by Paula Lester
Before I could figure out how to respond, I was staring at the closed white door.
He’d slammed it in my face.
Chapter 6
THERE’S NOTHING LIKE trying to make breakfast and get ready for a day at work when you really didn’t sleep. I mean, I supposed I slept some, but after my weird interaction with Crosby, I’d tossed and turned most of the night. When I managed to nod off, my dreams were strange and stressful.
So, I was in the kitchen trying to make myself some coffee, but my vision was bleary. Not only that, but my coordination also left much to be desired, so I kept dropping everything. That’s how Dixon ended up with coffee grounds all over his furry head.
The cat gave me a glare and shook his head, sending the dark, wet grounds flying all over Aunt Dru’s perfectly clean kitchen floor.
I shuffled over to open the closet door and pull out a broom and dustpan, but when I turned around, my aunt stood in the doorway.
She took one look at me and hurried forward to take the broom out of my hands. “You look dreadful, honey. What’s wrong?”
“I didn’t sleep very well last night,” I admitted, feeling my shoulders slump in exhaustion.
Aunt Dru clucked her tongue. “I can’t say that I slept all that well, either.” She got to work sweeping up the coffee grounds. Dixon sat to the side watching her, a grumpy look on his feline face.
“Were you worried about the Trio?”
She nodded, stopping to lean on the broom for a moment. “I’ve known Marian for a long time. It’s... sad what happened to her. But I’m even more concerned that there was no ascension. Something has to be done about that and quickly.”
“What can we do? Is there someone we can consult about it? Who’s in charge of the Trio and the ascension and all that?” I was listening carefully to my aunt, but I trained my eyes on the hot, brown liquid dripping into the coffee carafe. My fingers itched to pour myself a cup, but I knew I needed to wait until it was completely done brewing, or it would taste bitter.
Aunt Dru finished sweeping and put away the broom and dustpan without answering.
Finally, the coffee machine sputtered to a halt, and I poured myself a big cupful and sank onto a chair by the old wooden kitchen table.
Dixon, who appeared to have forgiven me, came over to rub his head on my shin. I reached down to give him a scratch on the head. “You’re a good boy.” His fur was free from coffee grounds, so that was something, at least.
Aunt Dru brought her teacup to the table and sat across from me. “I suppose there is someone, somewhere who manages the Trio, but I’m positive I don’t know who it is.” She gave me a tired smile. “That’s above my pay grade, I’m afraid.”
“Okay, well, until that person arrives and takes over, I guess it’s our job to try to figure out what’s going on and fix it.”
Aunt Dru nodded. “I guess so. I’m sure Kressida will have something to say about it too. After all, she should have ascended to Crone. She must wonder why she hasn’t.”
“I have to go to work, but I’ll keep my ears open today for anything that could help us.”
Aunt Dru studied my face closely. “There’s something else going on, isn’t there? What is it?”
How did she do that?
I sighed heavily. “Nothing, really. It’s just something that happened with Crosby.” All of a sudden, I didn’t want to continue. Which was odd because, usually, I was eager to ask Aunt Dru’s advice on anything that came up in my life. Luckily, a sharp bark interrupted us before she could demand answers. “That’s Juliet wanting to come in,” I said unnecessarily. I’ll go open the door.”
I jumped up, raced to the front door, and pulled it open to let the border collie rush in. I expected her to go straight to her food dish, but she didn’t. Instead, she stopped near my feet and sat down, craning her neck to peer up at me. “You’re in trouble,” she said bluntly. Of course, most everything she said was blunt. Juliet didn’t speak in long, drawn-out sentences. She was a more practical dog, and that came across in her speech patterns.
“Trouble?” I glanced out the door, half expecting there to be a bad guy out there. But everything looked peaceful, and I shut it again.
“Bernie came by this morning and told me you are the person everyone thinks killed that lady,” Juliet said. “I told him there was no way it was true, but you know how cats are — especially stray ones. They just can’t be reasoned with most of the time.”
I blinked rapidly, trying to catch up with the conversation. “I need my coffee.” I headed to the kitchen, Juliet on my heels. I hoped that, once I’d gotten more caffeine into my system, perhaps what she’d said would make better sense.
“Good morning, Juliet,” Aunt Dru greeted the border collie.
“Juliet says she’s had a visit from Bernie the stray cat this morning and that I am suspected of having killed Marian. I don’t really understand it all, so I thought I’d better get some coffee and pull you in on it.” I dragged in a deep gulp of coffee and then winced. It was still quite hot. But the slight discomfort in my mouth was all worth it once the lovely caffeine hit my system. I filled Juliet’s food bowl and watched her munch away for a few minutes. When she stepped back, obviously finished, I said, “So, Bernie thinks I killed the Crone, huh? Where’d he hear that?”
“The network.”
I exchanged a glance with my aunt, who shrugged. She didn’t know what our dog was talking about either.
“What’s the network?” I refilled my coffee and sat back down.
“Animals. Sometimes, we need to pass information along, so we have a network.”
“You mean like a grapevine?”
Juliet blinked at me and didn’t answer.
“Okay, so you and Bernie are part of a network of animals that pass along information to one another.” I gave Juliet a chance to add or correct something, but she didn’t. “And this network is working on the issue of the Crone’s death?”
She lowered her chin to her chest and then jerked it up again, in a reasonable imitation of a human nod.
“Is there anything other than me being a suspect that the network has learned?”
“Yes.”
My heart rate increased. Did the animals know something useful? I raised my eyebrows and waited for the dog to continue.
“The one who smells like sweet candy usually wears pink socks,” Juliet said. “And the man near her cries more than most human men, and the one with wavy hair eats lots of cheese. We wish she’d share.”
“Who? Are you talking about the Trio and their Guards?”
Juliet’s large, brown eyes regarded me, but she didn’t answer. I sent a questioning look toward my aunt.
Aunt Dru shrugged. “I don’t think they use human names like we do.”
“Okay.” I thought about it for a moment. How could I figure out who the animals were talking about?
But before I could think of another question, Juliet stood. “I need to check Susie and the lambs.” She headed toward the living room.
I grabbed my coffee cup and followed her. “Will you tell me when you hear more from the network?”
“Yes.”
I opened the door and watched the border collie pad across the porch, down the steps, and toward the paddock. In the field, I glimpsed Susie and her babies. The mother sheep munched grass, and the babies frolicked around, leaping and twisting as they played.
I felt Aunt Dru arrive next to me, and I turned toward her. “So, that was interesting. Not sure how helpful it will be, though.”
“We may not be able to interpret the animals’ information well enough for it to be of use to us.” A frown pulled at both sides of her mouth, and I studied her closely. She looked tired, yes, but it was more than that. Aunt Dru looked older than she had the day before. The age lines, which usually added softness and humor to her expression, now made her look weary and worried. On a whim, I gave her a hug. She hesitated for a second before squeezing me back.
&nbs
p; “I need to get to work. But I’ll call you if I have a break.”
“Have a nice day, honey.” She managed a smile, but it looked forced.
As I backed my car out of the driveway, Aunt Dru stood on the porch and watched me, hugging herself tightly, as though it were colder than it really was.
She wasn’t acting like herself, that much was for sure. Did she know something about the situation with the Trio she wasn’t telling me?
WORK WENT SMOOTHLY. I had been a little concerned things would be awkward between Jeremy and me after our strange date, but he was as friendly and easy-going as always. I didn’t have any time to call Aunt Dru or think much about the situation with the Trio, but the moment I walked out of the clinic late in the afternoon, my mind snapped back to the puzzle.
Who had killed Marian and why? Those were the basic questions we needed to answer. But there were so many questions without answers leading up to that. Starting with—who would want the Crone dead?
Immediately, my train of thought ran right off the tracks. It was obvious I didn’t know enough about the Crone or the Trio to even answer that most basic of questions.
I needed a suspect list before I could do anything.
And the only person I knew who had any idea about the workings of the Trio or any of the people involved with it was Aunt Dru. So, I drove home and was glad to see her car in the driveway. I realized part of me had been concerned she’d take off. Of course, that was crazy. My aunt would never run away from me.
But she had been acting really strange.
It took me about fifteen minutes to find my aunt, but I finally did — in the flower garden at the very edge of our vast back yard. It was the flying dirt that caught my attention. I couldn’t see her until I got within a few feet because most of her body was buried under a bush.
As much as Aunt Dru had tried to teach me about plants and gardening, not much of it had ever really taken root in my mind. I was always much more interested in fauna than flora. Guilt stabbed me at the thought. Gardening was one of only two things Aunt Dru had tried hard to teach me in my youth. She’d also tried to get me to learn more about my magic, but I’d always resisted. Because of it, now I was in a situation where the Trio may find me to unsafe to deliver the rest of my power to. In fact, they could take the magic I did have away.
I gave myself a little shake, trying to get rid of the thought. There wasn’t time for me to wallow in self-deprecation. Having my magic taken away wasn’t the only concern I had right now—I was a murder suspect, and I had to focus on figuring that out.
I didn’t want to startle my aunt by speaking from directly behind her, so I tried to make vibrations in the ground by stomping my feet as I approached and giving my throat a little clear. It worked, and she scooted out from under the bush, flipped onto her bottom, and blew a piece of hair out of her face. “Oh. Hi, honey.”
“Hi.” I looked around, noticing the piles of weeds strewn all over the edge of the back yard. “Have you been at this all day?”
The hair had fallen back into her face, so she brushed it away with a dirty hand and left a trail of mud on her forehead. Her gaze followed my gesture around the yard, and she blinked in confusion. “I guess so. I had no idea I was out here so long. I guess I got lost in my thoughts.”
I offered her my hand and then helped her to a standing position. I felt a frown pull on the corners of my mouth when her fingers trembled a bit in mine. I gave them a squeeze, wondering whether it resulted from low blood sugar or something else. “Did you have lunch?”
She shook her head and fell into step next to me. I kept her hand in mine as we made our way to the farmhouse’s back door. “I guess I forgot.”
My lips pressed together firmly. I didn’t like that she hadn’t taken care of herself well that day and wished I hadn’t had to go to work. As soon as we got into the house, I sent my aunt to her room to wash up, and I got started on dinner. By the time she returned to the kitchen, I had some chicken sizzling on the countertop grill and was chopping vegetables for salad.
Silently, my aunt jumped in to help, and we worked in tandem to finish up. It wasn’t long at all before we were seated at the table, munching away.
Aunt Dru closed her eyes and chewed a mouthful of chicken. “This is delicious, honey. You seasoned it perfectly.”
I chuckled. “It just tastes extra good to you because you skipped lunch.”
She shook her head and pointed her fork at me. “Nope. Your cooking is improving.”
With a shrug, I got up to clear off the dishes. “At least something is.”
“You’re referring to your magic, right? Don’t worry about that—you’re doing fine.”
“I suppose. Hopefully, it’s enough.” I turned to face her as I leaned against the counter. “We need to make a suspect list. Obviously, everyone who was in the suite is highest on the list but the window was open. It would take some doing since it was the top floor, but I guess it’s a possibility someone came through it. And there’s always magic, right? So, do you have any ideas about who may have wanted the Crone dead?”
She didn’t meet my gaze. How odd. I couldn’t remember a time in my life when my aunt hadn’t looked me straight in the face when discussing something with me.
It was an uncomfortable feeling, and I squirmed. I turned around and ran water into the sink, deciding I needed to occupy my hands. But the uncomfortable feeling remained.
“Many people would want her dead,” Aunt Dru finally said. “There are many times during the work of the Trio when they make someone unhappy. Often, many someones.”
I thought about it for a moment as I scrubbed plates. “Is there somewhere we can look up recent rulings by the Trio? Maybe we could make a list of suspects from that.”
Aunt Dru paused in her task of wiping down the now-empty table. “I think so.” She shook her head. “I don’t know how to access it. It’s been a long time since I was privy to anything like that. But I may talk to someone who is. I’ll let you know what I find out. But, honey, I want to tell you something important.”
I turned away from the sink, wiped my hands on a dishcloth, and raised my eyebrows in a question.
“You need to tread lightly here. Be careful what you uncover.” She finally met my gaze for a moment, but her eyes darted away fast, like a frightened hummingbird. “Some things are better off being left in the past where they belong.”
“What do you mean?”
But Aunt Dru only shook her head. It was clear she would not elaborate.
I drew in a deep breath. “Do you know what I need? A change of scenery and some exercise. Would you like to go into town with me and have a stroll?”
She smiled, and it made me feel better to see the familiar look on her face, even though her coloring was still paler than usual. “That sounds lovely.”
We were both quiet on the short drive to Superior Bay. I parked near the harbor, and we walked along the boardwalk for a while, in companionable silence.
A group of tourists ahead drew my attention. It was late in the year for large groups like this but not unheard of. Superior Bay ran on tourism during all seasons, but the height of summer and the dead of winter were the highest-traffic times. People came in the summer for the Superior Bay Dog Show and to hike, bike, and boat in the nearby wilderness. In the winter, it was snowmobiling and cross-country skiing that drew them. Even autumn was great for trips to see the fall foliage. But this late-summer of increased rain and in-between temperatures was typically light on tourism.
The group ahead of us laughed and took pictures with Lake Superior as the backdrop.
I noticed my aunt’s forehead crease a bit as we passed them, but she didn’t say anything.
We turned and headed toward the quaint downtown area to stroll past the shops.
The sidewalks were buzzing with out-of-towners. And, for the first time, something about them dawned on me. They weren’t regular tourists. They had a strange aura about them. I turned to my a
unt. “These people . . . they’re like us, aren’t they?”
She nodded once but didn’t expand on my words.
Why were there so many witches in Superior Bay? “Does this have something to do with Marian’s death?” I kept my voice soft.
She nodded. “Yes. And, more than that, it’s because there’s been no ascension. Those who have been witches for a while can easily feel that disturbance. They’ve come to see what’s going on, and some of them are probably hoping their daughter will be chosen as Key.”
My mind chewed on that as we walked. I saw Superior Bay residents interspersed with the visitors. Their faces were all puzzled. They knew something was amiss about the huge influx of people.
But that wasn’t my primary concern. What Aunt Dru had said about the ascension had gotten my gears turning.
Kressida should have ascended to the position of Crone, with Marian dead.
Could she have killed Marian to get that promotion?
Chapter 7
SINCE IT WAS BASICALLY physically impossible for me to walk past Stroves’ Bakery without stopping in, Aunt Dru and I took the opportunity to get some coffee and muffins. With a little sigh, I chose decaf and then patted myself on the back for not over-caffeinating.
The place was bustling, but we squeezed in at a small round table in the corner. It was a pleasant spot for people watching. Julia, behind the counter, was super busy and only gave us a wave in passing. My best friend thrived in this sort of situation—she loved the bakery and adored being busy. Still, I could tell she wasn’t feeling exactly like herself. It appeared she was a little . . . frayed around the edges, and I could only guess it had to do with her new boss, Delilah Stroves’s niece, Becky.
My attention strayed to the other customers, most of whom I didn’t know. A few locals came in, but they appeared startled when they looked around and saw all the newcomers, and they ordered quickly and left just as fast.
