The Affairs of Witches

by Paula Lester

  “I’m sure she is.” Aunt Dru scooched to the edge of the sofa and pushed to her feet. She turned and gave me a small smile. “I’m tired, honey. I think I’m going to lie down for a little while.”

  I bit my bottom lip as she walked toward the staircase. Frustration threatened to overwhelm me. But then I noticed how small she looked. How frail.

  The thought occurred that maybe she didn’t like hiding things from me. Maybe it was hurting her as much to do it as it was hurting me to have it done.

  I breathed out the questions I wanted to throw at her retreating back, letting them die on my lips. Whatever was going on with her didn’t matter. I’d figure out some other way to help her.

  Regardless of what she wasn’t telling me, I trusted her. There was no way she’d killed the Crone.

  I grabbed my phone and tapped a few names to start a group text. Aunt Dru may not be willing to help me save her, but I knew some people who would.

  Chapter 12

  “OKAY, SO, YOU’RE SAYING these people can take your power away?” Alyson’s face was just a little paler than normal. We were on the front porch of the farmhouse. I’d thought about gathering everyone somewhere else, like maybe at Crosby’s house, so as not to disturb Aunt Dru, but I decided it was better to get up front and personal with my attempts at protecting her. I was willing to give her some space, and she seemed to be super upset about whatever it was she was hiding, but I wasn’t particularly willing to tiptoe around in the shadows and try to save her if she wasn’t willing to help us save herself. She hadn’t come out of the house, though, and had not indicated she even knew we were out there.

  Crosby shook his head. “I don’t care whether or not they’re witches, they’re all in my jurisdiction, and they won’t be removing anyone’s power without the department’s say-so.”

  I rolled my eyes. “And how, exactly, are you going to stop them?”

  He squinted at me. “I have no idea. But we will.”

  Alyson used her most soothing tone. “But Cros, you can’t put the other officers at risk like that, can you? They know nothing about the supernatural world. You can’t expect them to just jump in and start fighting witches without that information, can you?”

  He glared and surged to his feet to pace around the creaky wooden boards of the big porch. “No, I guess I can’t.” His hands balled at his sides. “This is so frustrating. Why can’t they just back off and let us handle things?”

  “Lila doesn’t seem like the type of person to let anybody else handle anything, really.” I twisted my fingers in my lap. “She’s kind of mean.”

  Alyson reached down to pet Dragon’s soft head. The puppy slept on her feet. “I think we have to assume that the human police department—present company excluded—isn’t going to be able to help us with this problem. So, the best thing we can do is figure out who did kill that poor woman and sic the witches on that person instead of on Aunt Dru.”

  I smiled slightly at her use of the term. All of my friends called her Aunt Dru, as though she were their own. And she had always treated them as though they were too. “The two best suspects I can think of are still Kressida and Lila,” I said.

  “By the way,” Crosby interjected, “I’m not signing off on siccing the witches on anyone in my community. Just so you know.”

  Alyson waved a hand. “That was just a figure of speech. Don’t worry.”

  He scowled, clearly getting the idea she was only placating him. But before he could argue more, another car pulled into the driveway.

  As soon as I recognized it as a black Cadillac, my stomach clenched. The car came to a complete stop, and Griffin got out of the driver’s seat. He opened the rear driver’s side door and offered a hand to help Celeste out.

  When she saw me, her smile brightened, and she bounced her way up onto the porch and flopped into a chair. “Sorry to interrupt, but I got bored at the hotel. The Crux is spending all her time holed up in her room, and the other Guards are mopey.” She waved a hand. “Not that I blame any of them, but I have nothing to do. I thought I’d come out here and see if you were around—which, I see you are.” Her eyes slid to take in each of my friends as Griffin climbed the porch stairs and leaned against the railing just behind the Key. “I’m interrupting, aren’t I?”

  “Maybe you can help us,” I said. I did some quick introductions, then said, “We were just having a discussion, trying to figure out who may be responsible for Marian’s death.” I tried to say it gently, figuring it was probably a very sore subject for Celeste. And she winced and squirmed a little bit but then stilled and seemed to steel her spine. “Have you come up with anything?”

  I leaned forward. “Do you know Lila and Albert? I don’t know their last name, but they’re witches who arrived in Superior Bay before the Crone’s death. Actually, there are a bunch of witches in town, but those two seem to be the most vocal. It’s almost like they’re in charge of the rest of them.”

  Celeste’s jaw tightened. “I know them.” Her tone was tight. “Lila had hoped that they would make her granddaughter Key, and of course she’s distantly related to Kressida, so she wants her to be Crone. Lila has not been very nice to me since I ascended to Key.”

  I exchanged glances with Crosby and then Alyson. “So, she was unhappy with the make-up of the Trio, then.”

  Celeste nodded. “Very. Wait, you think she may have killed Marian? Like, to make room in the Trio hoping her granddaughter would ascend this time?”

  I didn’t answer, but Celeste must’ve taken that for affirmation because she pounded a fist on her thigh. “I can’t believe that woman. I mean, I knew she was kind of a jerk, but it never would’ve occurred to me she would do something like this.”

  Alyson held up a hand. “We don’t have evidence that Lila and Albert did this,” she reminded Celeste in a gentle tone. “We’re just trying to create some ideas to follow, hoping to gather proof. Can you think of anyone else who may have wanted Marian dead? You were very close to her, around her a lot, I assume.”

  Celeste nodded eagerly. “Oh, yes, we were together almost all the time, the three of us.” She glanced over her shoulder at Griffin and smiled. “Actually, the six of us. Of course, we are free to pursue our own interests, but really, we are most comfortable when we’re together, so that’s how we spend most of our time.” She shook her head, sending her curls to bouncing. “But I can’t think of anyone who would’ve hated her enough to kill her. I mean, sure, people rarely like our rulings. And we have to take power from supernatural beings once in a while. Any or all of them could be angry enough to try to plot murder, I suppose. And some could get into the penthouse through mystical means. But it would take forever to sift through that list and track each person down. Besides, most of them are nowhere near this place.”

  I wanted to ask Celeste about Kressida and whether she thought the Crux could have killed the Crone, but I couldn’t figure out how to pose the question delicately. It was clear from the time I’d spent with them that Celeste thought incredibly highly of Kressida. The Key seemed to be eager to help us, but I had an inkling that if I made some veiled accusation about Kressida, that would end abruptly. I exchanged glances with Crosby, and I could almost see his thoughts going in the same direction as mine. He didn’t ask about Kressida either.

  My eyes lifted to take in Griffin. “What about you? Can you think of anyone who had the means and motive to kill the Crone?”

  Griffin looked surprised at being addressed. I got the idea the Guards were most comfortable blending in with the scenery. Like the Trio were the important ones, and the Guards were there to facilitate their work.

  Griffin shifted a bit uncomfortably on the railing and crossed his arms as though to guard himself from my questioning. He shook his head sharply a few times. “The Crone was grumpy,” he breathed. “But all Crones are. I think Celeste is correct, that it was likely someone the Trio ruled against. That or someone who was unhappy that their relative didn’t make it onto the Trio
last time.”

  “When was the last time the Trio got a new member?” Crosby spoke up.

  Celeste raised her hand like a kid in elementary class. “Oh, I know that one. It was me. Our last Crone passed away about five years ago, and that’s when Marian and Kressida both ascended. I was living in Philadelphia. I was studying my magic, and my teachers said I was doing very well.”

  “Teachers?” I’d thought family taught witches about their power.

  Celeste nodded, a shadow passing over her face. “I’m adopted. My parents aren’t witches, but they knew what I was and hired teachers for me. When the Trio showed up—well, the Trio minus the Crone, out of the blue one day, I thought they were there for my evaluation. You know, like we’re here for yours, Willow?”

  I nodded and smiled, trying to encourage her to continue.

  “Anyway, I guess they were there to deliver the rest of my power, but I also ascended to Key that day.” Her face fell. “I had to pack and leave my home right away. I wasn’t ready for that. I mean, I’d been planning to go to college, but this was . . . different somehow.” Brightening again, she gave me a dazzling smile. “But Kressida was so nice. She was almost like a mom to me. She and Pence both felt like parental figures, and they helped me get adjusted. I’m still homesick now and then, but I love my new life and my spot on the Trio.”

  “Pence?” Alyson piped up.

  “Yes, the Crone’s Guard. He’s around the same age as Kressida, and the two of them are close friends.”

  My phone rang, and I held it up to check the screen. “It’s Julia,” I announced before tapping to answer. She hadn’t responded to my earlier texts requesting people to come out to the farm to help me with the investigation. “Hey, Jules. What’s up?”

  “Willow! I need help. Is there any way you and the guys could come out to the bakery?” Her voice was strained, just on the edge of panic.

  I looked around at everyone on the porch. It almost felt like we were just about to make a big breakthrough. But I couldn’t ignore the pleading note in my friend’s tone. “I can come. I’ll check with everyone else. What’s going on?”

  “I’ll fill you in when you get here. Just, please, get here soon.”

  She hung up without saying goodbye. I explained the situation, and Alyson and Crosby got to their feet immediately.

  Griffin offered Celeste a hand, and she stood too. “I guess I’ll head back to the penthouse.” Remorse colored her tone. “I should see if Kressida needs anything. But thanks for the chat. It was a pleasant distraction for a little while.”

  We all walked down the steps toward the Cadillac. “You can hang out with me anytime you want,” I said. “If you get bored or sad or whatever, just text me or come on over.” I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile.

  I must’ve hit the mark because Celeste launched herself into my arms, giving me a tight squeeze. “Thank you,” she whispered into my ear.

  She and Griffin got into the Cadillac and left, and Juliet spoke from her spot next to me. “Not the same soap,” the dog said. “The same family. Like you and Aunt Dru.”

  My eyes widened as I watched the dog trot away. To Crosby and Alyson, I said, “Did she just say Celeste and I are from the same family?”

  Of course, not being able to hear animals speak, my friends just widened their eyes and exchanged uncomfortable looks. I waved off their questions and hopped into the car.

  Great. Just what I need. Another mystery to solve.

  Chapter 13

  IT WASN’T IMMEDIATELY obvious what was wrong at the bakery. In fact, it looked like there was a line of people waiting to get in, which is always a good look for a business. I thought maybe that was the issue—Julia needed help because the place was super busy.

  But when we got to the front of the line, the man there delivered a scowl to me as I reached to open the door. “Why should you get to go in and we can’t? We’ve been waiting here for over an hour trying to get in. No cutting!”

  He jerked his thumb toward the back of the line, and my eyes followed his gesture. I realized the line was long. Was he saying all these people had been waiting an hour to get into the bakery? I peered through the window in the front door to find the place empty. A frown pulled down the corners of my mouth. Why couldn’t anyone get in if the bakery wasn’t full?

  I tried the door. It was locked. But almost as soon as my hand hit the doorknob, I glimpsed Julia’s face, popping out from the kitchen. When she saw me on the other side of the door, she hurried over, unlocked it, and opened it just far enough to yank me inside. Then she repeated the move with Crosby and Alyson before slamming the door shut in the grumpy customer’s face. He fumed even more, his complexion turning bright red, and his fists contacting the door, causing it to rumble on its hinges.

  “Wow.” Alyson had wide eyes as she watched the angry customer. “That guy really wants baked goods.”

  “Hey, Jules, how come you’re not letting any of those people in?” I looked around but still couldn’t identify the problem.

  She threw up her hands. “I can’t make anything! I sold out of all the stuff I made yesterday and this morning, and now I don’t have any brown sugar at all. And I’m completely out of cash to go buy any to get me through the afternoon. I can’t get a hold of Becky, and this whole thing is just such a . . . such a . . .” Instead of finishing the sentence with a word, Julia let out a long, pained groan.

  Alyson threw her arm around Julia. “I have some money. You can borrow it to get the brown sugar. How about I run out and get it for you and bring it back? That way, you won’t get accosted by those people when you try to leave.” She looked over her shoulder toward the customers on the sidewalk outside the bakery.

  I had expected the line to thin out once Julia let us in and not the others, but it looked like it had grown longer. “I can’t believe they’re waiting,” I said in wonder. “I mean, I know your baked goods and coffee are great, Jules, but I don’t know if I’d wait in line for it.”

  “I know. They’re crazy. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m glad they love my stuff and keep coming here, so I can keep my job, but right now, it’s just nutso.”

  “Come on, Aly,” Crosby said, “I’ll give you a ride to the store. We’ll be back in just a few minutes. Is brown sugar the only thing you need?”

  Julia rubbed her temple furiously. When she pulled her hand away, there was a red mark from the vigorous motion. “Um. Let me think. We’re getting low on chopped walnuts too. I can do without those if I really have to. But Mrs. Warner will be by this evening for her walnut-chocolate chip cookies, and she’ll be disappointed if they don’t have the nuts in them. So, yes, walnuts. Oh, but they’re kind of expensive.” She winced and wrung her hands.

  I’d never seen Julia act like that before. She was always so cool and collected, especially where the bakery was concerned. I threw an arm around her too, so that Aly and I flanked her, holding her between us. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. We’ll get your ingredients, you’ll get your baking done, and all the customers, including Mrs. Warner, will be totally happy. Then, we’ll put our heads together and figure out what to do about this Becky thing.”

  Julia looked over at me, hope easing her expression. “We will?” She sounded like a small child trying to get reassurance from a parent that there was no monster under the bed.

  I squeezed her tightly. “We will,” I said firmly, trying not to think about my own problem that needed tremendous brainpower to solve. How was I going to spare any for hers?

  “Okay. Okay. Thank you, guys. I just totally panicked. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t come to help.”

  Crosby took Alyson’s elbow, and they darted outside. I grabbed the door and pulled it shut as quickly as possible, twisting the lock home before angry Mr. Customer could shove his way in.

  “Let’s get everything ready, so when they get back, we can just add the brown sugar to whatever you’re making and get it going,” I suggested.
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  With relief written all over her face, Julia led me into the kitchen, and we spent the next twenty minutes mixing up ingredients. When Crosby and Alyson returned, they had not only brown sugar with them but also some white sugar, the walnuts, chocolate chips, eggs, and milk.

  “Oh, my goodness, you guys are lifesavers,” Julia cried. “I’ll get Becky to write you a check as soon as I find her. I’m so sorry you had to spend your own money for this.”

  Alyson shrugged. “It’s no sweat. Anything for you.” She smiled before crossing the kitchen to wash her hands and put on an apron. She glanced at me and Crosby. “I’m going to stay here and help Jules for a while. If you guys want to head out and keep working on that other thing, you can go ahead.”

  Julia jerked her head up from the dough in her hands, alarmed. “Other thing?” She smacked her forehead, leaving a floury smudge. “Oh, Will. I forgot all about that. I can’t believe you’re here helping me when you’re a murder suspect.”

  “Aunt Dru’s a suspect now too,” Alyson said with a wince.

  Julia jumped, even more alarm settling on her face.

  I shook my head. “It’s okay. I’ll always come help you when you need it. Aunt Dru and I will be fine. You focus on this.” I gave her a quick, tight hug.

  Then, I exchanged a glance with Crosby, who nodded curtly, and we headed out the back door, hoping to avoid the line of angry customers out front.

  Once we were back outside, I turned to Crosby. “I have to go to the clinic for a little while. Do you want to meet up again later to continue our discussion?”

  He nodded. “I’m also going to do some digging into Lila and Albert’s history. I’d like to find out where they’re from, exactly, and whether they have records or anything like that.”

  “That sounds like a great idea to me. I’ll catch you later.” With a smile and a wave, I headed away from my friend and toward the clinic. My thoughts were consumed with the last thing that had happened out at the farm—Juliet telling me I smelled like Celeste. She’d indicated it was as though we were from the same family, but that couldn’t be right. Well, I suppose it could be right. Maybe we were distant cousins or something? Celeste had said she was adopted, and I wondered how much she knew about her biological family.