The Affairs of Witches

by Paula Lester

  Julia shook her head. “I haven’t had a chance to. Things at the bakery are just so chaotic. For instance, today I had to go to the grocery store after work and pick up some extra things in order to have enough for tomorrow. If we have another day like today was, though, we’ll be out of everything. I can’t talk Becky into making a second order this week—she just doesn’t understand business. I guess it’s impossible for her to understand that we have a bunch of additional people in town and they all want scones and cupcakes. And if we don’t have them available, we just lose that business forever. It’s just one of those things you learn with experience, I guess, and she has none.” She gave me a pointed look. “Hey, speaking of all the out-of-towners, it seems like they might have something to do with . . . you?”

  “In a roundabout way, I guess they do. How did you figure that out?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Well, you didn’t need to be a detective to catch on to it. I mean, not only do these people have a strange air about them, which I assume has to do with magic, but many of them also asked outright about you.”

  “Me?” My eyes flew wide. “What were they asking about me?”

  “Mainly whether I knew you, and when I said yes, then the gloves were off. They asked me about everything from your favorite color to whether I had ever seen anything unusual occur around you. They were quite digging about you being a witch, but, of course, I didn’t let on that I knew anything.”

  My body sagged with relief. “That’s good. Thank you. I really don’t know who all those people are or why they’re asking about me. I’ve tried to ask my aunt about it, but she’s acting sort of strange, and I haven’t been able to really get it out of her.”

  “What about the other thing?” Alyson asked softly. “You know, the horrible murder. Have you gotten any closer to figuring out who did it?”

  “We were just talking about that,” Crosby said. “Willow was telling me she suspects Kressida, who was Marian’s friend.”

  All of their eyes shifted to my face, their expressions full of question marks. “Well, I guess I don’t really know if they were friends. They seemed to be. And I don’t know if I really suspect her, but I was just telling Crosby that she would have something to gain by Marian’s death.”

  Alyson’s eyebrows rose a fraction. “And that is?”

  “Ascension to Crone. I guess that’s the way it’s supposed to work when someone in the Trio dies—the next person sort of rises to take their place.”

  Alyson pressed her lips together and nodded. “Okay, so you think Kressida killed Marian in order to get a promotion?”

  “Well, when you put it that way, it doesn’t really sound likely,” I said grudgingly.

  But Crosby shook his head. “Ambition is a common trigger for murder. Right along with money, passion, and sex.”

  I shuddered a bit, thinking about what it would be like to want a promotion so badly that I would consider murdering someone. Of course, that would never happen to me. But I knew so little about the world of witches or Trio itself, not to mention Marian and Kressida and their histories, that I couldn’t say whether it was a possibility in this case.

  “There’s something else,” I intoned as a new thought occurred to me.

  “What is it?” Crosby looked eager.

  “When Aunt Dru and I were in Stroves’ Bakery earlier, we ran into this couple—Albert and Lila. They mentioned something I thought was odd, but I didn’t think about it too much until just now. Lila mentioned they had been in town since Saturday. That was before the Crone was killed, which doesn’t really make sense because Aunt Dru told me these witches came to town after her death because they could sense that the ascension didn’t happen.”

  Crosby squinted, as though he were examining the thought in writing instead of in his mind’s eye. He nodded once. “That is suspicious. We’ll have to talk to them and see if we can find out why they came to Superior Bay.”

  “It sounds like you have two good suspects now.” Alyson reached over to squeeze Julia’s knee. “I think I should get you home, so you can rest up before tomorrow.”

  Julia nodded and got slowly to her feet. “That sounds good. I’m going to take a long, hot bath and then watch some mindless TV until I fall asleep.” She turned and gave me a wink. “You stay out of trouble.”

  I widened my eyes to look innocent. “When do I ever get into trouble? You’re the troublemaker in our group, not me.”

  Crosby chuckled. “She’s got you there, Jules.”

  Julia huffed and crossed her arms. “I don’t know what the heck you two are talking about. I’m always a good girl.” She turned and stomped away in mock indignation while the rest of us laughed uproariously.

  For that moment, as I laughed and watched Crosby guffaw, it felt like the Four Musketeers were back.

  Chapter 9

  DESPITE EVERYTHING on my mind, I slept like a rock that night, probably because I had slept little the last couple of nights. I was glad my body took over and forced my mind to rest, and I felt much better as I headed to work.

  I was a little bothered because I hadn’t seen Aunt Dru that morning—her bedroom door was firmly closed, and I didn’t want to bother her if she was getting some good sleep. Still, I was itching to ask her more about Marian, Kressida, and the Trio. But I had to get to work, so it would have to wait.

  At lunchtime, I ate my sandwich from home quickly and then headed outside for a walk. I tried to do that as often as I had a chance because it helped me clear my head. Being a veterinarian was wonderful, but it came with some stress. Of course, I had it easier than most—I could talk to the patients and ask what was wrong if I got some private time.

  As I wandered along the bustling streets of downtown Superior Bay, I let my thoughts wander. But no matter how I looked at it, my suspicions returned to Kressida, Albert, and Lila. I needed more information to narrow it down further.

  “Why, Dr. Morgan. I’m surprised to see you here at this time of day.”

  My chin snapped up at the words, and I blinked a few times, trying to orient myself. I’d been so lost in thought that I hadn’t really been paying attention to where I was going. Now, I saw I was standing in front of The Witch Supply Store. And the man who had spoken to me was Max, the shop owner.

  The Witch Supply Store was a tourist trap, filled with crystals and rocks and incense and tarot cards.

  I loved it.

  For most of my life, whenever I felt low, I’d head to this place, go right to the back, curl up in a chair and read the interesting books on the shelves. Max and his wife, Cordelia, indulged me. They never made me pay for anything or rushed me out.

  Of course, I knew most of what was in the store wasn’t real witch stuff, but I still soaked it in like a sponge, especially when I was feeling off somehow—different from everyone else.

  “Hi, Max. Um, yes, I’m surprised to find myself here today too.” I chuckled. “I guess my feet brought me without input from my mind.”

  His laugh mirrored mine, and the dark-haired, middle-aged man opened the shop door and swept an arm. “Well, come on in, Doc. Have a look around. Maybe the universe led you here for a reason.” He winked and rubbed his ample mid-section. “I’m heading to lunch, but you’re always free to hang out here and browse. Just make sure the cat doesn’t sneak through the door when you leave.”

  I knew I should decline the invitation and head back to work instead. But, once again, my feet had their own idea, and I entered the shop.

  With a last wave, Max headed toward the back of the store, probably to eat a sack lunch or something. The shop cat rubbed my shins. “Hi there, Fox. How are you today?” I bent down to ruffle the brown tabby cat’s ears.

  “Not great,” she grumbled. “There haven’t been mice in the store for ages.”

  “That’s probably because you’re such a good mouser,” I told her with a smile. “All the mice in the area have likely learned this isn’t a safe place for them.”

  Even though her
facial muscles couldn’t pull it off as well as a human’s could, I could tell Fox was pouting. She sat down, licked her front paw, and then rubbed it on an ear. “Well, that’s no fun. I wish I could go outside and track some more down. But Max and Cordelia don’t let me out.”

  “That’s for your own good, though. It can be dangerous outside for cats. Trust me, I’m the one who has to patch up the kitties when they get into a tangle with another cat or, worse, a groundhog or skunk. Plus, there are cars out there and you may get hit or picked up and taken home by another human who thinks you’re homeless. You’re much better off staying in here where it’s cozy, even if there aren’t any mice.”

  “I suppose.” Her tone made it clear she didn’t really agree with me. Then, she craned her neck to peer closely at my face. “I’m supposed to show you something.”

  Surprised, I kneeled down to get closer to her. “What do you mean?”

  Instead of explaining, Fox said, “Follow me.” She took off toward the back of the store.

  Lurching to my feet ungracefully, I followed the cat through the empty store to the back corner where a cozy seating area was set up. I had spent a lot of time there reading over the years, but it had been a while since I’d had time. Immediately, the books called to me, and my eyes slid over some of their spines. My fingers twitched, as though itching to grab a book off the shelf and begin reading. I didn’t have as much time for reading for pleasure as I liked anymore. Seeing the books and feeling the urge to devour them caused me to make a mental note that I needed to carve that time back out somehow.

  But before I could choose a book, I drew my eyes back to Fox. She had jumped up onto the edge of a bookshelf. She reached out her delicate paw and touched a huge, leather bound volume. “This one.”

  I narrowed my eyes and stepped forward to grab the tome she’d indicated, taking in the title with surprise. “The Works and Workings of the Most Magical Trio,” I murmured. “The Trio. Fox, what is this book?”

  But when I looked up, the cat was gone. I turned in a circle looking for her, thinking she must’ve crawled somewhere while I was grabbing the book, but she really wasn’t in the seating area anymore. Where had she gone?

  But I didn’t wonder about it for long because my attention was drawn back to the enormous book in my hands. It was heavy, and I crossed to set it on a small table next to a comfortable, light-blue armchair, which I sank into. I had enough wherewithal to glance at my watch before diving into the book. I needed to get back to work in about ten minutes, and there was no way that would happen unless I left the shop right then.

  I rummaged in my crossbody purse for a second, found my cell phone, pulled it out, and called the clinic.

  “Superior Bay Veterinary Clinic, how can I help you?” Theresa’s voice was friendly and inviting.

  “Hey, it’s me. What does my schedule look like this afternoon? I can’t make it back by the time afternoon appointments start up.”

  I could hear the clicking of Theresa’s computer keys over the line, and then she said, “You really don’t have much this afternoon. Nothing for another hour. Would you like me to move your appointments to Dr. Miller’s side?”

  I thought about it for a moment. My gaze dropped to the book in front of me, and before I could give it any more thoughts, I said, “Yes, please. And tell Jeremy thank you for me. If you have any trouble or someone doesn’t want to move, call me, and I’ll come back.”

  “You got it, boss. Have a good afternoon.”

  I ended the call and slipped the phone back into my purse. Then I cracked open the huge book. The pages were slightly yellow but soft and not at all brittle. Still, the tome gave off the feeling of age. The font was an ornate one that I had to concentrate hard on reading, but as I did so, it seemed to get easier, as though the words became clearer and sharper.

  I paged through the book. It included gorgeous illustrations that appeared to be hand-painted. I didn’t even have to read anything to understand immediately that the book was about, the Crone, the Crux, and the Key. The pictures made that more than obvious. Oh, they weren’t pictures, necessarily, of Marian, Kressida, and Celeste. Still, something about the way the women in them held themselves, probably along with the title of the book, made it obvious.

  But who was the fourth woman?

  She was in many of the pictures but always standing off to the side a bit, never in extreme proximity to the other three. It gave the feeling that the fourth woman was bearing witness somehow—watching and gathering information. There was a benevolence about her that made her spying non-ominous.

  I peered more closely at one picture and read the caption: The Messenger Watches the Trio and Reports What She Sees to the Throne. Without a Messenger, the Trio Is at Risk.

  Messenger? I’d never heard that term. What did it mean?

  “I see my Foxy has shown you what you needed to see today.”

  My head whipped up at the voice, my heart pounding faster until I recognized Cordelia, the shop owner’s wife, leaning against a stack of books nearby. “Oh, I didn’t realize you were there. Um, yes. This book seems fascinating.” I tried to keep my tone light. I was supposed to be perusing a fiction title in a tourist trap witch-related shop, not gathering valuable real-life information about current events in my life.

  Cordelia snorted. She had wavy, waist length black hair and had pinned a purple flower into the right side of it. Her eye shadow was the same shade of lavender and accentuated her face’s lovely, oval shape. “Fascinating is an understatement.” She pointed at the open tome in front of me. “That book has more information in it than you could ever absorb. You can’t take it out of the shop, but you can come and look at it whenever you need to. The information it contains about the Trio is likely to become very important to you over the next few days.”

  I blinked a few times, not really knowing what to say.

  Cordelia giggled and stepped closer. “I’m a witch,” she whispered. Then, in a normal voice, she said, “my husband doesn’t even know. But I had a hand in helping him choose what type of shop to open.” She waved a hand around the room. “Most of what we have here is not real, but I do occasionally get a few things that are, just in case someone needs them. Over the years, your aunt has been one of my main customers, but I’ve also kept a few things on hand for you when you came in. Druida and I wanted you to have solid information to find when you needed it. And sometimes, something just arrives. Like that.” She gestured to the book in front of me again. “In those cases, I don’t know who sent it. I didn’t order it. But I knew immediately it was for you. So, I did a minor spell—just something to encourage you to come this direction.”

  That explained why my feet had wandered here seemingly of their own volition. They’d been responding to Cordelia’s spell. I didn’t know whether to feel uncomfortable having been led that way or grateful that she’d known how to do it. I tapped the picture in front of me. “Do you know much about the Messenger?”

  She shrugged a little. “Only what most witches know. That she’s tasked with monitoring the Trio and reporting back to the Throne.”

  “What’s the Throne?”

  Another shrug. “It’s all very mysterious, but I think it’s a queen or something. Your aunt might know more, and that book may describe it better.”

  I felt the pulse of my phone against my hip and dug it out to glance at the screen. “I’m sorry, but I should take this.”

  Cordelia nodded and left the seating area to give me some privacy. I answered the call, which was from the clinic.

  “I’m sorry, Dr. Morgan, but Ellen Sweet, who has an appointment in fifteen minutes, doesn’t want to see Dr. Miller. She says she’s set on seeing you and suggested she might be angry if she didn’t get to.”

  “Okay, I might be a couple of minutes late, but I’ll be there.” I ended the call, and with one last look at the picture, closed the book. With reluctance, I replaced it on the bookshelf where I’d found it and headed into the main room
of the shop. Cordelia was behind the checkout counter, and she gave me a curious look. “I have to get going, but I would like to look at that book more later.”

  “Of course. Come in anytime you like. And if you need to come outside of the shop’s hours, just call me, and I’ll come and let you in.” She handed me a business card. On the back, she’d hand-written a number, as though she’d expected the situation.

  I slipped the card into my purse. “Thank you. You know, I’d like to talk to you some more about all this. Maybe we can have lunch or something soon.”

  “I’d like that.” She smiled. “I don’t have much opportunity to talk with other witches.”

  As I approached the front door, Fox jumped out in front of me. “You’re leaving already?”

  “Yes. I have to get back to work. Thank you for showing me the book.”

  She cocked her head. “Are there mice at your clinic?”

  I laughed and shook my head. “No, I don’t think so. We have too many cat scents around.”

  She tipped her head the other direction. “That’s too bad. What about at your house?”

  “Sorry, but no, again. Dixon keeps them out of the house, and I’m pretty sure Juliet keeps them out of the barn. I think you may have to resign yourself to the fact that you’re a retired mouse-hunter and just enjoy your kibble.”

  The cat huffed and stalked away, head held high.

  With a chuckle and a last wave at Cordelia, I left the shop. As I hurried back toward the clinic, I thought about the Messenger and wondered who it was and whether it had anything to do with Marian’s death.

  Chapter 10

  AFTER I’D FINISHED with Ellen’s two kittens, I left the clinic. Initially, I’d planned on heading back to The Witch Supply Store, but a wave of fatigue made me head for Stroves’ Bakery instead.

  There weren’t nearly as many people packed into the place as there had been the day before, but there were a few out-of-towners sitting at tables. I talked to Julia for a few minutes, got my coffee and a toasted bagel with cream cheese, and headed for Albert and Lila, who sat looking at a newspaper and sipping from mugs at a corner table. “Mind if I join you?”