Killer Witch in Westerham

by Dionne Lister

  We turned a sharp left and in a few metres came to a T-intersection, at which I chose to turn left. After three more turns, we came to an enclosed area that was just big enough for the park bench and pedestal-style bird bath in its confines. “One of my reading spots. It was great for escaping my mother—she doesn’t like the maze.” His smile had disappeared, and he worried his bottom lip between his teeth. “Um, sorry about before. Even though she can drive me crazy, she, my brother, and I are close. We stuck together after my father left when I was ten. Mum’s super protective of me. She’s paranoid that women want to use me.” He shook his head. “And is that such a bad thing anyway?” His half-hearted grin was lopsided, and I could see why he was the current darling of the cinema.

  “I don’t know. Is it?” Okay, so I thought it was, but this was me being diplomatic.

  “I asked you first.”

  I shrugged. If he wanted honesty, that’s what he’d get. “It depends on whether you’re using them too. If not, I can see how it would get tiring and depressing to have people hanging around hoping a bit of fame rubs off on them. And I guess you’d never know if they were there because they liked you for you, or if it was just the fame.”

  “Gotcha!” He shot me once with his finger pistol.

  I wrinkled my brow. What the hell?

  “You do know who I am.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I recognised you, but fame doesn’t impress me. Sorry. I like to go by who the person is. Are they nice? Yes—awesome. No—they can take a hike.”

  He nodded, his expression thoughtful. “I can respect that.”

  “Great. Is there—”

  “Jeremy! Jeremy, I need you inside now!” came from outside the maze.

  He rolled his eyes.

  “Jeremy!”

  “I have to go. Are you finished here?”

  “Is there any more to the garden other than the maze?”

  He nodded. “When you come out of the maze, turn right and walk around it. At the back is an informal garden, weeping willows, and a stream. There’s also a tall hedge to the right, and the barn conversion’s on the other side of it, but I don’t think you need to see that. Up to you. I’ll see you inside soon.”

  “Thanks.”

  I followed him out of the maze, to his scowling mother. She stabbed me with her gaze before turning to her son and softening her expression. “Gran needs help with the sandwiches.” While he’d been irritating when we’d first met, he hadn’t been so bad since then, and right now, he had my sympathy. He’d actually turned out okay for someone with such a strange parent.

  I wandered around the border of the maze further into the yard, my shoulder aching from the weight of my equipment. I opened the bag and took out my Nikon. My button-pushing finger itched to get started.

  At the end of the maze, the land sloped gently down to a line of weeping willows. That must be where the creek was. In between the maze and willows was an expanse of grass interspersed with mature trees. Drooping white-petalled blooms and happy yellow bulbs flowered amongst the fiery leaf litter in the dappled shade of the shedding trees. Birds hopped from branch to branch and flitted from tree to tree. I squeed at a group of squirrels who scrambled up and down the trunk, manically changing their minds about whether they wanted to be on the ground or in the tree.

  I framed the scene and took a few snaps. I’d definitely get Marcia and her clan out here later for a group shot. I checked my watch—I’d been here for twenty minutes. Gah, time to get a move on. I hurried down to the line of melancholy trees bowing over the creek. It was a fair distance away, and I was puffed when I reached them.

  The stream was pretty much a river, spanning at least four metres bank to bank. The water flowed lazily, but the bent rushes on both banks indicated fast-flowing water had recently trampled through. The air was cooler amongst the willows. Matching trees framed the opposite side, a forest of autumnal brilliance at their backs. So pretty.

  I brought my camera to my face and focussed the lens. There was more shadow than light, and to get the best pics, I’d need my tripod so I could slow my shutter speed without compromising on clarity. I clicked off a couple of test shots. Although the light would change before I was out here again, it would still be good to have a reference. I focussed on the wood’s golden hues, and the light dimmed, the only illumination coming from the full moon shining above. What the hell? I hadn’t blocked my magic—I hated to do it, and normally I only did it to avoid copping a see-through person in my viewfinder.

  Across the water, a body appeared on the ground between the willows and thicker woods. My heart raced. Dead bodies had never appeared unasked before. Was this going to be my new normal? I blinked away the tears burning my eyes.

  Crap.

  The woman’s long hair fanned out around her head, and she was dressed in some kind of long formal dress, which hugged her body, but I couldn’t tell the colour in the dark, which was a good thing, considering. The skin on her face was gone, and a heart-shaped hole had been cut out of her dress on the left side of her chest. Had someone cut out her heart? My head spun as blood drained from my face. Get it together, Lily. You can’t tell, so stop guessing and freaking yourself out. It was too dark to discern if there was a wound. I swallowed my horror as I clicked the shutter button several times. I wasn’t sure if the image would wait for me to change to a zoom lens, but I had to try since I couldn’t cross the water—it was too wide and deep, and there was no bridge—yet I couldn’t get much detail. I swapped lenses and tried again.

  Nope. Damn it! She was gone. I took a few deep breaths and stared at the spot across the river without my camera filtering the view. That poor woman.

  My phone rang, and I jumped. I fished it out of my pocket with shaking fingers. “Hello?”

  “Lily, where are you? Everyone’s arrived, and we’re waiting for you in the conservatory. It’s time to start the photos.”

  “Ah, I’m just checking out your gorgeous property. I’ll, ah, be there in two minutes.”

  “Goodo. See you soon.”

  I lifted my camera one more time, but no luck. I didn’t want to call on my magic, in case someone inside felt it and wondered what I was doing. What if Marcia or one of her family had murdered this girl? Or what if she was one of them, and they didn’t want to be reminded? Not to forget that I couldn’t explain how I knew about the body. I’d have to text James and tell him to research it quietly.

  I grabbed my phone and photographed two of the photos showing on my Nikon’s screen. Then I typed out a text, added those photos, and pressed Send. As I was walking back to the house, the phone rang. I didn’t even need to look at the screen. “Hey, James. I’m just at a job. I can only talk for about thirty seconds.”

  “Jesus, Lily. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. A bit shaken, but I couldn’t get very close, and it was dark, so I didn’t see every gory detail. I have no idea how long ago it happened, but it was at night. Not sure what season either.”

  “Okay. I’m going to get Millicent to run a check on missing persons. This could’ve happened twenty years ago, for all we know.”

  “Yeah, I suppose so. Although I have a feeling it wasn’t quite that long ago. Her hairstyle and dress didn’t look that old-fashioned, but then again, it was dark.” The conservatory door was open, and Marcia was waving. “I gotta go. I’ll call you when I get home tonight.”

  Today was going to be a long day while I waited to find out about the mystery woman. Who killed her and why? Who was she? She’d looked as if she was in her late teens—way too young to die.

  I pushed my shoulders back and pasted on a smile. Then I walked through the door… into complete mayhem.

  A man I hadn’t yet been introduced to stood with hands on hips, toe to toe with Jeremy’s mother. He was shouting. “Damn it! How many times have we been through this?” Three of the younger children were running around the family room. One of them had some kind of food—which may or may not have been bacon—and w
as dangling it in front of a small, brown terrier, who was doing its best to grab it. It barked as it chased the laughing, squealing kids. One of Marcia’s older granddaughters was yelling at the kids to stop. Jeremy was nowhere to be found.

  “Lily, I’m afraid things have gone rather pear-shaped.” Marcia placed a gentle hand on my arm.

  “Hmm, yes. Would you like me to get some shots, or is this something you’d rather forget?” I turned to her with a wry smile.

  She stared at the fray, a thoughtful expression on her face. She shrugged and gave me a cheeky grin. “Why not? I’m only eighty once. Maybe one day we’ll look back at this and laugh.”

  I grinned and changed lenses to my 50 mm. I focussed on Jeremy’s mother, who was waggling her finger in front of the other man’s face as she ranted. Gah, I hated when people did that. Click.

  The dog growled. An earnest game of tug of war between the young girl and dog played out on the floor. I moved carefully—so as not to startle anyone—but swiftly towards them. Click, click. I’d snapped off quite a few pics when the dog wrenched its head sideways, securing the salty morsel once and for all. Game over. Dog: 1, little girl: 0. Although she was giggling. I was sure she felt like the winner for all the fun she’d had. I took a few pics of her enjoying the moment before I turned to eyeball what else was going on.

  Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong, ding dong. “Oh, for heaven’s sake! Hold your horses.” Marcia hurried to answer the doorbell. I went with her, ready to take more photos—who knew, I might get a great reunion picture of her greeting someone she hadn’t seen for years.

  I pointed my camera and focussed on the front door. Marcia opened it. I click clicked. Jeremy, cheeks flushed and face set into a stony expression, pushed past us and slammed the door on an army of photographers jostling and shouting behind him. I lowered my camera and bit my bottom lip. Marcia and I shared a worried glance before she went after him.

  Not wanting to add to the unsettling start to the day, I cut off access to my magic. The void that opened inside me left me yearning for something. It was like an itch you couldn’t scratch, one that was bone deep and all-consuming. Suck it up, Lily.

  I lifted my Nikon to my face—hiding behind it. Even though I knew people could still see me, a sense of security and the possibility of getting candid shots that cut through the veneer my subjects presented to the world thrilled me. Even with the void, I was the proverbial pig in mud.

  “Who told them I was here?” Jeremy faced his family, hands on hips. “I’m waiting.” His family’s concerned gazes pinged from him to each other.

  Finally, his mother said, “Well, you won’t stay famous if nobody hears about you for a week. Give the public what they want. I’ve sacrificed too much to see you waste it all because you want privacy.” Sadness shadowed her eyes. “When you’re gone, I miss you terribly. The sooner you can come home for good, the better.” Okay, so maybe some of her anger was driven by fear of losing him. She really did care.

  I’d slowly orbited the crowd, and I stood side-on so I could snap both Jeremy and his mother’s faces. I wasn’t sure if Marcia really wanted this recorded, but I wasn’t going to interrupt and find out. She could always ask me to delete everything later.

  Jeremy’s face slackened. “You? You sacrificed? You used to complain when you had to drive me to auditions when I was a teenager. You begged me not to take jobs overseas, and when I did, you refused to talk to me until I came home. I’m the one getting up at five in the morning and working twenty-hour days for weeks on end.”

  “But you don’t understand—” She reached out to him.

  He put his hand up. “I don’t want to hear it.”

  Jeremy’s brother put a calming hand on his arm. “Why don’t we go upstairs and cool down. What about a game of Assassin’s Creed?” The brothers looked at each other, their eyes filled with meaning only those two understood.

  The brothers turned and walked towards the stairs to the upper floor.

  “Get back here, now!” His mother started after them.

  “Let them go, Catherine.” Marcia put herself between the fleeing young men and her daughter. “Don’t ruin my birthday again, or you won’t be invited next year.”

  Catherine took a step, and someone—I had no idea who—whispered, “Inheritance.”

  My eyes widened. Really? Who were these people? Although, Marcia wore a smirk. Had she said that? I wasn’t sure if I was more or less disturbed.

  Jeremy and his brother had disappeared up the stairs, and my camera was trained on Marcia and her self-satisfied grin.

  “Hey, camera girl. It’s time for you to leave. I think you’ve seen quite enough.” A burning tingle zapped along my arm. Was Catherine going to hurt me with magic? I snapped open my portal to the magic river and created a return-to-sender spell.

  An invisible force shoved me as her spell met mine. I stumbled back but managed to keep my feet. Catherine wasn’t so lucky. She flew backwards and landed on her bottom. I blinked. What had she tried to do to me?

  The gaggle of family, young and old, stared, mouths agape.

  Marcia was first to recover. “What in God’s name did you do that for? If you weren’t my daughter, I’d be calling the PIB right now.” She turned to me. “Are you all right?”

  My heart thudded a thousand beats per minute, but other than that, I was pretty sure I was okay. I looked down at myself just to make sure. Yep, no frog legs or missing anatomy. I checked my camera. It was okay, and the photos seemed to still be there.

  “I think I’m okay. What spell did you cast, and why? I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  She slowly stood, glaring at me the whole time as if it were my fault she’d fallen. Well, it was kind of my fault, but not really. If she had kept her witchiness to herself, none of it would have happened. “I don’t trust you. You’ll sell those photos to the media, make my son look bad.”

  “You mean make you look bad.” Marcia rolled her eyes. “I truly am sorry, Lily.”

  “So she tried to delete my photos?”

  She turned to Marcia. “I’m just protecting my son. Has everyone forgotten about that crazy stalker who almost killed him?” Marcia frowned and shook her head slowly. Catherine turned back to me.

  The fact that Catherine was happy to ruin a human’s morning of work annoyed the squirrel happiness out of me. Gah, what a mess.

  Bong, bong, bong. The deep chimes silenced the chatter. “Never a dull moment around here,” said the balding old guy—I’d forgotten his name, and honestly, there were too many for me to remember. “Do you want me to get it, love?”

  “Yes, please,” said Marcia. “But we’re not expecting anyone else. If it’s another grimoire salesman, I’ll scream.” Door-to-door grimoire salesmen were a thing? Who knew?

  “Canape, anyone?” Huh? One of Marcia’s adult granddaughters held out a plate of little savory pastries. They smelled delicious, but timing…. Adults and children hovered around the platter and dug in. It was always a good time to eat in this house, apparently. Maybe they were all used to the drama?

  “Marcia, if you would rather I came back later this afternoon, when everything’s settled down, I’d totally understand, and I’d be happy to deduct some of my fee.” Why would she want all the bad stuff recorded? We had enough for the day. We really did—well, at least I had.

  “Oh, no, Lily. I want everything documented.” She gave me a reassuring smile.

  “Ah, okay. If you’re sure.”

  “Extremely, but only if you’re okay to stay after that incident. And actually, I’m going to give you a bonus for having to put up with that.” She shot a death glare at her daughter, then looked back at me. “I truly am sorry. If she tries anything else, I’ll kick her out.”

  “You wouldn’t!” Jeremy’s mother’s eyes were wide.

  “Try me, Catherine.” Marcia lifted her chin, her back ramrod straight. Was she really eighty today? She could easily pass for forty right now with all the “I’ll take y
ou on” vibes she radiated.

  Catherine’s tone regressed to a whingy five-year-old. “But I was only trying to protect our family. Why do I always get blamed for everything?”

  Marcia shook her head.

  “Just wait here, and I’ll get Jeremy.” The bald guy—I think it was Marcia’s brother—returned with the witch who had arrived via the reception room. Not a grimoire salesperson, apparently. Just for fun, I took some shots of the new girl, who looked to be in her late twenties. She wore a sexy red dress and matching shiny red platform heels. Her straight blonde hair was in a pixie cut, and her artificially plumped lips were painted scarlet. She was gorgeous except for her huge lips, which were so obviously tampered with that they looked weird. Subtlety, people, subtlety.

  Why did so many women embiggen their lips? It was such a thing, even with women my own age and younger. What was wrong with normal human lips? Since when did they become not enough? I had a huge suspicion we were all being conned by plastic surgeons. I mean, why were all the ones on television men who needed to take their own advice and have Botox and their lips plumped according to their definition of beauty, yet we were the ones forking out for something we didn’t need? I should come up with a spell so that we all thought we were beautiful regardless of our lip plumposity.

  Catherine bore down on the new girl. “Do you work with my son, then?”

  “I did.”

  “So, what are you doing here?” Catherine folded her arms. I hoped the new girl had her return-to-sender spell up—she was going to need it.

  “I heard he was coming back here for his grandmother’s birthday, and since we’re together, it’s only right that I should be here.”

  Catherine looked her up and down. Her smile, when it materialised, was not kind. “You’re not his type. He doesn’t go for slutty Americans, and your accent is terrible. So common.”

  My mouth dropped open. I was about to defend the poor girl when Jeremy came down the stairs. His face drained of colour. I felt bad, but I pressed the camera button. Click, click.

  The new woman’s adoring smile lit up the room. Something didn’t add up.