The Affairs of Witches

by Paula Lester

  Crosby groaned. “I can’t believe Superior Bay has had another murder.”

  “Yeah, that’s two in three months. Maybe you don’t need to go to Detroit for experience,” I jibed but then winced at my own joke. Too soon. “Listen, I’m starving. Can I go now?”

  “Yeah. Just don’t leave town. I’ll find you later.”

  I rode the elevator down and hurried out of the hotel, glad to be done with the place and back out in the sunshine. My stomach was insistent that I deal with it right away, so I stopped at a sandwich place on the boardwalk and ate on their outdoor patio. The chill in the air was worth it to be out in the open. Funny how that huge penthouse had seemed to close in after Marian was killed.

  Once the sandwich was gone, I walked back to my car and drove home, feeling more normal with every bit of distance I put between me and the Flying Fish Hotel.

  Aunt Dru was on the porch, doing some knitting while Dragon slept by her feet, and I climbed the stairs and sat beside her. “Marian’s dead,” I said, not knowing how to approach it any more gently.

  But she wasn’t surprised. She simply nodded. “I know.”

  “How?”

  “Dory called me.”

  Of course. The town gossip would have been onto the news of another murder in Superior Bay like wool on sheep. “I’m sort of the prime suspect right now. Marian’s Guard and Celeste both accused me.”

  “I have more bad news to add to that.” She set aside her knitting and turned toward me. “Kressida didn’t ascend.”

  I blinked a few times before my brain caught up. I’d learned enough during my time with the Trio for Aunt Dru’s words to snap into place. “It’s supposed to happen automatically when the Crone dies? The Crux ascends into her position?”

  “Yes. And the Key ascends to Crux. They should have both ascended immediately upon Marian’s death. Then, a new witch should have been delivered to serve as Key. But none of that has happened.”

  “So, that means . . .” I prompted, studying her softly wrinkled face.

  “It means there’s no Trio right now. And without it, the magical world could erupt into chaos.”

  “Chaos?” I squeaked. “What does that mean, exactly?”

  “The Trio holds sway over all witches and wizards who may use their powers for destruction. Either they take their power, or they influence the practitioner enough through threats they stay in line.” She reached down to stroke the sleeping beagle’s forehead, smiling when his ear twitched. He was growing into his ears, but they were still huge compared to his face.

  “Okay. So, evil witches may do nasty stuff with magic?”

  “Yes. Other supernatural creatures will crawl out of the woodwork, looking to make trouble too. With the Trio disabled, there’s basically a huge power vacuum in the magical world.” Aunt Dru didn’t meet my gaze. “We could be in serious trouble if we don’t figure out why there was no ascension.” She finally looked at me. “Apocalyptic-style trouble.”

  I blew out a breath. So, not only was there another murder to solve in my sleepy little town, and not only was I currently the prime suspect for said murder, but if we didn’t figure out what was going on, and fast, the entire world could also explode into magical mayhem and death.

  Fan-freaking-tastic.

  Chapter 5

  I CHEWED MY LIP AND stared out the window of Jeremy’s practical little two-door Chevy car as we traveled to Red River. He stole a few glances at me as he drove, and then finally ventured a question. “Everything okay?”

  I gave a start, and guilt crept over me. I gave Jeremy a small, wry smile. “I’m really sorry I’m distracted. I keep thinking about that murder that happened over at the Flying Fish Hotel today.”

  He relaxed a little, as though relieved that I had been thinking about a grisly murder. The thought made me want to laugh, and I had to stifle it so I wouldn’t look like a crazy person, chuckling at inappropriate times. Jeremy had probably been wondering if I was acting distant because I didn’t want to be on a date with him. Of course, that wasn’t true. I’d been excited enough about going to dinner with him to have Julia and Aly come over to the house and help me get ready.

  I glanced down at my outfit and tried to be surreptitious about tugging the skirt down over my thighs a little farther. Julia had had way more of a hand in choosing my outfit than I had intended, and the black dress had a slightly lower V-neck and a significantly higher hem than I was usually comfortable with.

  “Yeah, that is an upsetting situation, isn’t it?” His brow furrowed slightly as he studied the road. “It’s really crazy that two people have been killed within a three-month time period in Superior Bay. I wonder when the last murder was before these two.”

  “About fifteen years,” I answered absently.

  He shot me a surprised look. “That was a rhetorical question. I’m surprised you know the answer.”

  “Crosby told me. Plus, my Aunt Dru remembers it. It was kind of awful. A woman was pushed off the cliff into Lake Superior during a storm. They never found the killer, either, though everyone around here suspects the husband.” I shivered a little at the thought of standing on the hiking path atop the high cliffs overlooking the vast lake and suddenly being shoved in by someone you loved and trusted. What a horrible way to die.

  “Well, that’s super horrific.” Jeremy confirmed my thoughts, shivering a little himself.

  I found it endearing that he felt creeped out, just like I did. “Let’s change the subject.” I slapped my thighs and then immediately regretted it, hoping I hadn’t just drawn his attention to my short skirt. I really needed to learn to resist Julia’s wardrobe suggestions.

  He shrugged. “I’m happy to talk about whatever’s on your mind, even if it is incredibly depressing.” He glanced over and winked.

  Since the topic of Superior Bay’s murders had been exhausted, the next topic that came to mind that I really wanted to discuss was Crosby potentially taking a job in Detroit. Of course, that was not even within the realm of something appropriate to talk about with Jeremy. I cast my thoughts about in search of a proper topic of conversation for a first date—one that didn’t involve another romantic interest or a death.

  I winced and had to smooth my face back out so Jeremy wouldn’t notice. What was I doing thinking about Crosby as a romantic interest? He was one of my best friends, yes, and it was a little upsetting to think about him moving to Detroit because then we’d be the Three Musketeers instead of the Four Musketeers. Our group had already experienced that once, when I went downstate to veterinary school, and I wasn’t eager to live that way again. It really taught me how close my group of friends was and how vital they were to my happiness.

  Come on, Willow. Get a hold of yourself and think of something to talk to your date about. There must be a thousand women who would trade places with you in an instant—Jeremy is cute, successful, and sweet.

  Luckily, I was spared the hard task of thinking of something to talk about when Jeremy pulled the Chevy into a parking spot outside the Paggiato Italian Eatery. “Stay right there,” he ordered before jumping out of the car and hurrying around to open the door for me.

  I surged out of the car as fast as I could, eager to get through that awkward moment of trying to maintain modesty during the difficult maneuver. I wobbled on my high heels for a second before I could get myself steady, with Jeremy’s hand on my elbow. I hated high heels, but both Julia and Aly had insisted I needed to wear them with the black dress. I knew my friends were right—I would look ridiculous in flats or flip-flops, but I’d still tried to argue myself out of wearing the dangerous footwear.

  Normally not a fan of being led places, I was relieved when Jeremy kept his hand on my elbow as we walked into the restaurant. How horrifying would it be if I lost my footing and crashed onto the pavement? That would be a first date story for the history books, for sure.

  For the next ten minutes, I was blissfully exempt from having to come up with topics of conversation as we ch
ecked in with the maître d’, followed him to our cozy table for two in the back corner—complete with a flickering pink candle—and perused the menu before ordering pasta, salad, and wine. But when all that was over, we stared at each other across the round table in silence.

  “What were the bloodwork results on that—”

  “Hey, how did that one dog do with—”

  We dissolved into laughter after trying to speak at the same time. Jeremy shook his head and grinned. “I can’t believe we both just tried to talk about work cases. What is wrong with us?”

  “I have no idea. Here we are, out for a nice evening at a fabulous restaurant, and all we can think to talk to each other about is work. We really have problems.” I glanced at the server and mumbled a thank you as he dropped off our wine. I took a sip, reveling in the lovely, dry Merlot. “This is good.”

  He tried his too. “Wow, this is fantastic. It reminds me of some I got one time at a tiny little café in Paris.”

  “You’ve been to Paris? How cool. I’ve never been out of the country.” I twirled the stem of the wineglass between my fingers. “I have aspirations of going to Dublin, though. My father’s family is Irish.”

  “If you like Irish music, I know a great local band that plays on Friday nights at the Dog Door Pub,” Jeremy said. “I’ll take you sometime if you want.”

  I gave him a small nod, but internally, I wondered if I really wanted to commit to a second date. As much as I tried to keep my focus on the man in front of me, my thoughts kept drifting toward Crosby. I couldn’t help but wonder if there was any way to talk him out of taking the job in Detroit now that I’d acted supportive of him going.

  The food came, and conversation flowed easier as we discussed how delicious it was and segued into our favorite foods and restaurants. It was a relief to settle in and eat.

  “Would you like to take a walk?” Jeremy asked when we were outside the restaurant again after dinner. “Maybe out to the pier?”

  I hesitated, looking down at my heel-clad feet. I winced. “Can I take a raincheck on that? My footwear isn’t the best for it.”

  “Yeah, of course. Come on. I’ll take you home.”

  The ride back to Superior Bay was quiet until Jeremy broke the silence. “You’re not feeling this, are you?”

  My head snapped up. “What?”

  He gestured vaguely around. “This date. You’re not really into it.” When I objected, he hurried on. “It’s totally cool. I can tell you have something else on your mind. Do you . . . want to try this again some other time?”

  I tipped my head and felt my brow wrinkle. “I’m sorry. But you’re right. I do have a lot on my mind. It has nothing to do with you. I really like you.”

  “I get it. We’ll try again when whatever’s got you perplexed is over.” He gave me a wink and pulled into my driveway.

  Once again, he motioned for me to stay put and hurried around the car to offer a helpful hand. He walked me to the door.

  “Would you like to come in? I bet Aunt Dru has some lemonade made, and you can see how much Dragon’s grown.”

  He smiled but shook his head. “I think I’ll get going home. Thank you for a nice evening.”

  I watched him descend the steps and waved as he backed out of the driveway. With a heavy sigh, I turned back toward the door but stopped, my hand hovering an inch from the knob.

  Once again, my thoughts dwelled on Crosby. It seemed almost inevitable that he’d take the job downstate. The thought made my stomach flip. I turned away from the door, plopped onto a porch chair, pulled my phone out of the tiny purse I’d taken on the date, and hit Julia’s name.

  It only rang twice. “Hey, girl. Give me all the deets. Is he a good kisser?”

  “I wouldn’t know. He just dropped me off and went home. We’re going to try another date later.”

  Silence filled the line for a few moments, and I imagined Julia’s pixie-like face scrunching as she tried to make sense of what I’d said. “Well, we were supposed to get drinks tonight, remember? Wanna meet at the Landing and get drunk?”

  I snorted out a laugh. “I’ll meet you at the Landing after I change my clothes, but I’m not promising anything about the drunk part.”

  “I’m already here. Hurry up.”

  The line went dead, and I stared at the phone in disbelief for a moment, surprised Julia hadn’t waited for me. I shook my head. Maybe she’d been afraid I wouldn’t make it and didn’t want to give up drinks.

  When I got to the Landing twenty minutes later, I found Julia at the bar with a cosmopolitan in front of her. When she saw me, she motioned for Steve, the bar’s owner, and he brought me one too.

  I took a sip. “Mmm. So yummy.”

  “So, what did you mean about you and Dr. Hottie trying your date again later? What was wrong with now?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. Just not feeling it, I guess. I have a lot on my mind.”

  “Yeah, I get that. I can’t think about much besides Becky Stroves and how she’s ruining my bakery.”

  My eyebrows felt like they were leaping off my face. “Your bakery?”

  Pink color rose in her cheeks, and she lifted the Cosmo. “Slip of the tongue. But that’s not the point. She’s a menace. She’s going to drive the bakery into the ground.”

  I thought her slip of the tongue was more telling than Julia was admitting, but it wasn’t the time to push it. “What are you going to do?”

  She took a sip of her drink, stared into it for a minute, and then gave a long exhale. “I think we’re bad at getting drunk.” She glanced at my glass. “You haven’t even drank a quarter of yours.”

  I shrugged and took a tiny sip. “Don’t change the subject.”

  “What am I going to do?” She tapped ruby red nails on the counter. Suddenly, her expression brightened, and she straightened. “I’m going to talk to Delilah.”

  I gave her a double-take. “Say that again.”

  She turned toward me, and her tone was excited. “I’m going to go talk to Delilah. She may be a murderer, but she has to still care about the business she built. She won’t want it ruined by her successor.”

  “Um. Okay. I guess that makes sense. A little.” I tipped my glass to watch the pink liquid spin around. “Maybe.”

  She squinted at me. “What’s wrong with you? You’re not a hundred percent in this conversation. Haven’t you been doing your be here, now affirmations like I taught you? Mindfulness, girl. It’s where it’s at.”

  “Well, no. I haven’t. And I’m thinking about Crosby. He told me he’s thinking about taking a job in Detroit and moving away.”

  “And you’re upset about that.” Understanding flooded Julia’s features. “Oh, of course you are.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  She widened her eyes and put on an innocent look. “Nothing.”

  “It means something, Julia. You never say anything you don’t mean. Come on. Out with it.” I gave her my best stern look. The one I gave pets when they wouldn’t hold still for a nail trim.

  Her right shoulder rose and fell delicately. “It’s just that you’re into him.”

  My jaw dropped.

  “Don’t look at me like that. It’s true. You’ve been into him for a few years now.”

  “I have not!”

  “Oh, come on! Save that fake outrage for someone who doesn’t know you as well as I do.” She patted my arm. “I’m your best friend. Have been since we were five. And you, my dear, like Crosby Patterson. Like, you like like him.” She sipped the Cosmo and batted her eyelashes at me.

  I pursed my lips and thought about trying some more denials. But something stopped me.

  Could Julia be right?

  “That’s not all.” She interrupted my self-examination. “He’s into you too.”

  For the second time in a minute, my jaw seemed to unhinge. “He is not!”

  “Totally is.” She rocked back on the bar stool and looked smug.

  “How d
o you know that?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Remember that little speech I just gave you a minute ago? About how you’re my best friend and I know everything about you? Yeah, ditto for Crosby. Plus, you’re both just so obvious.”

  “Okay, now I know you’re messing with me. Crosby does not act like he’s into me at all.”

  She burst into laughter, and I glanced around, feeling self-conscious. She just kept laughing until she was wheezing, bending over, and holding her side.

  I jabbed her with an elbow. “Stop that!”

  “It’s just so rich!” She wiped at her eyes. “You really can’t see it, can you?” She shook her head. “This is so totally Willow. You were like this in high school too. Brett Raverly had to basically fall all over himself before you noticed he liked you. He even had to ask you out several times before it sank in.”

  I crossed my arms. “That’s not true.”

  “Yep. It is. And it’s the same thing now.” She leaned close. “You like Crosby, and he likes you. Go tell him you don’t want him to move to Detroit, girl.”

  I studied her face for a moment. She seemed sincere. And suddenly, I was off the stool and heading for the door. “Pay for my drink, will ya?” I yelled over my shoulder. “You owe me for not telling me this sooner.”

  I was pulling into Crosby’s driveway before I knew it. I threw the car in park, hopped out, and hurried across the yard toward the brick ranch before I could think better of it. I pounded on the white door and then stepped back, a flutter dancing in my stomach.

  The door opened, and Crosby looked surprised. “Oh, hey.”

  “Are you into me? Like, do you like me? Romantically, I mean.” I stammered to a halt. Way to sound like a weird stalker, Willow.

  His jaw clenched, and I could see the answer written all over his face. The denial was plain as day, and my heart seemed to sink into my abdomen. But that was stupid, wasn’t it? What did it matter if he liked me? I didn’t have a crush on him.

  Did I?

  Then something strange happened. The denial flitted out of his expression. He lifted his chin. “Yeah,” he said. “I am.”