Something Wicked_A Witch Cozy Mystery Series

by Freya Darcy

  LATER, I’VE JUST FINISHED clipping my sleeping bag to the hiking backpack when Jaz swings into the room on her glistening webbing. I vaguely remembered that Judith and my father loved hiking and camping growing up and after consulting my new friend, House, I found a stash of near new condition gear near the back of the walk-in closet.

  “You can’t go.” Jaz says. “We still have training to do.”

  “I already said I’d go. Besides, this will give me the perfect opportunity to find out more about Meghan.” Grabbing up my backpack and phone, I quickly check the room before turning my attention back to Jaz. “Are you sure more training is even a good idea? Last night I summoned a storm that nearly washed us both away and woke up this morning with the hangover from hell.”

  “That’s why we need to train more,” Jaz says. “You’re like a big ball of energy right now. We need to focus on control. Once you learn how to control your power, you’ll be able to wield it better and not drain yourself so quickly.”

  “Yeah, that was bad. How did I even get back to my bed?”

  “That was easy, I tripled my size, wrapped you in webbing, and carried you to bed.”

  All the blood drains from my face and my spider phobia comes rushing back. “Um — Thank you?”

  “Yeah,” Jaz says with a wry smile. “I made sure to remove all the webbing, so you wouldn’t freak out in the morning.”

  I sigh and roll my eyes. “You told me all that just so I’d feel guilty about my spider fear, didn’t you?”

  “I would never be so childish.”

  PING! My classic alarm clock pings once for yes.

  “I’ll be back in a couple of days and then we can start my training again. I’ll be rested and hopefully you and House will have worked out your differences.”

  PING PING

  Chapter Nine

  AS IS THE NATURE OF my existence, when I try to start my car it merely makes a selection of clicking sounds and of course doesn’t start.

  “Ah come on,” I plead with very unresponsive machine. “Don’t make me call the biker mechanic. He’ll laugh and say something hurtful like, ‘I told you so.’”

  I try again. This time I may as well be turning the key in a toy car. Nothing. Not even a click.

  “Fine.” I huff and dig through my glovebox till my fingers brush against the sharp edge of the card he’d given me the other day.

  To Connor’s credit, he arrives in record time and even offers to drive me into town. So while he’s hooking up my car, I climb into the cab of his beat-up tow truck.

  I’d expected to find the cab littered with old fast food wrappers, beer cans, and maybe even a few magazines, but it’s oddly tidy. I wonder if he took the time to clean it out before heading over, I also wonder if I’m being a little judgmental right now. He’s been nothing but nice since I met him.

  “Ready to go, princess?” Connor says as he launches himself into the driver’s seat and belts up.

  “Don’t call me princess,” I reply. “And yes. Thank you.” I add the last part grudgingly, remembering my manners.

  He just chuckles and starts the engine, which purrs effortlessly to life.

  Pulling out onto the road, we drive in silence for a few minutes before he clears his throat and I wonder if I’m supposed to me making polite conversation. I flush and offer him an awkward smile. I’m not really very good at small talk and even worse when I’m sitting next to a ruggedly handsome biker.

  “I noticed the bags in the back,” he says after another stiff moment. “You’re not leaving, are you?”

  “No!” I reply, then soften my tone with a little laugh. “Way too many people are waiting in the wings to tell me, ‘I told you so.’”

  “Ah spite, I know her well,” he says with a bark of laughter. “At least ninety percent of my life choices were made out of spite.”

  Eyeing him I feel myself smiling. “Leader of the pack and running what looks like the only mechanic shop for miles. Not a bad result.”

  “To be honest, we wouldn’t mind a bit of competition on the mechanic front. We’re the only mechanic for three towns. A new one crops up ever other year, but it never lasts more than a month or two and we usually get stuck repairing their damage.”

  “Why don’t they last?” I’m genuinely curious. If other mechanics in the area are shutting up shop after a couple of months, many people might think the Dingo Boys were running them out of town.

  He turns right and we emerge from the thick woods into bright afternoon sunlight. “Lack of preparation, training, and business skills. Fail to prepare and prepare to fail.” He sighs. “And with that, I am officially my father.”

  That earns him a laugh, and I turn in my seat and lean my head against the chair as I listen. He has a nice voice and an easy way about him.

  “They see that a bunch of bikers are doing the job and think, ‘how hard can it be?’” He makes a face. “Then they open shop and realize that fixing cars requires actual hard work and skill and you nearly always end up covered in grease and oil.” He holds up a finger. “Always avoid clean mechanics, they don’t know shi—” he slides me a look and performs a toothy grin. “They don’t know a shin bone from a carburettor.”

  “Nice save.” I bite my lip, not sure how to ask the next part. “So...”

  He gives me a raised eyebrow. “So...?” When I don’t continue he says. “You want to know if I fixed Meghan’s car?”

  I look at him sharply but he just shrugs.

  “The fact that you found her isn’t a secret. Let me guess, you feel guilty because you saw her at her most vulnerable and don’t know anything about her. You feel responsible somehow.”

  “Is that weird?” I ask. “I’ve never found a body before. Thinking of her as the hanging girl in the woods just feels so wrong, but I don’t know anything else about her.”

  “Nope, not weird at all. Believe it or not, I don’t stumble over that many dead bodies either.”

  He taps his fingers on the steering wheel for a bit before continuing. “She was nice, I guess. We moved in different circles, so I didn’t know her that well. We went to school together and she dated one of the Dingos for a while during our senior year. Brought her car in for servicing and maintenance a couple of times a year.”

  “I heard she was engaged for a while?”

  “Yeah, some rich city boy.” He clears his throat and slides his eyes to me before focusing on the road again. “Don’t know what happened. Probably, he wanted them to live in the city and she wanted to stay in town. Maybe vice-versa.” He shrugs. “Meghan dated Derick too for a long time and they were still friends as far as I know, so he might have some insight.”

  I frown and look out my passenger side window. In my mind’s eye I remember the way Derick had been so careful that day, checking to make sure nobody was watching before slipping into the woods. What was he doing that was so secret? Surely it couldn’t have anything to do with Meghan? He and Payton seem so normal and friendly and not in the least bit murderous.

  Suddenly Payton’s behaviour and the way Derick had hung back on the day I’d found Meghan feels more ominous. Was there an alternate reason why they’re invited me to go camping?

  Am I that girl everyone yells at in horror movies for being too stupid to live?

  I’m being ridiculous and paranoid. Payton said there was a family and a couple of other people coming too. I remind myself that this isn’t some scary movie and suspecting everyone would drive me mad. Besides, it was equally possible that Derick had been sneaking into the forest to take a wizz.

  “You doing alright over there?” Connor asks. “Sounds like you’re doing some pretty hardcore thinking.”

  I smile over at him and shake my head. “My mind has been a dangerous place lately.”

  Holding a finger gun to his own head he says, “Oh yeah, I hear that.” And pulls the trigger.

  We arrive at his shop and I notice a few other cars up on platforms and a couple waiting. “I suppose ther
e’s no chance my car will be finished by Sunday?”

  Connor looks around the lot. “Easy-peasy. Most of these cars are waiting for parts. But I knew I’d be seeing you soon, so I took the liberty of acquiring the parts ahead of time.”

  I don’t know why that annoys me, but it does. “You’re pretty sure of yourself.”

  “Yes, mam.” He rests his forearm on the roof and grins across at me. “It’s not exactly raining car mechanics around here.”

  I mime a laugh even though I feel my face getting hot, remembering our last meeting and my unfortunate ringtone.

  “So where are you going, all packed up?” he asks.

  I don’t know how to answer that, so I stick with the basics. “Payton and Derick invited me on their camping trip.”

  He lets out a bark of laughter. “You’re going Bigfoot hunting?”

  “Lower your voice!” I hiss as a couple passing by throw me a look.

  “That is fantastic.”

  “Look, I’m not crazy.”

  “Never said you were, darlin’,” he says with a grin, his eyes actually shimmering with mirth.

  “Yeah, but you’re thinking it. It’s just a camping trip. The Bigfoot part is just to make it fun, like adding laser tag or paint-balling.”

  His shoulders start shaking. “Gotcha. Not crazy.”

  Walking around the back he grabs my bags and hands them to me. “Wait, here I’ve got something for you.”

  He disappears into his office and I hear a lot of clanking and not a little swearing until with a muffled shout of victory he emerges holding something small and rectangular his large, grease stained hand.

  “Here, in case Bigfoot gets frisky.” He holds up the object, presses a button and a long sharp blade springs out. “It was my mum’s. I reckon it’s waited long enough to be passed on. She called it her date knife.”

  As amusing as it is, knowing this big biker’s mother was a badass, I shake my head. “I can’t take your mum’s knife. You should keep it in case you have a daughter.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think that’s going to happen. I’m not really a family man.” He grabs my hand and presses the cool handle into my palm. “Mama said I’d know when the time was right to pass it on.” He winks and closes my fingers around it.

  “Fine,” I say feeling flustered and my face is hot again.

  “Don’t be afraid to use it,” he says, all serious now. “If someone comes after you, stab first, ask questions later.”

  “And if I need to hide a body, I have your number.”

  “My specialty.” He grins wide and I’m not sure if he’s joking.

  I back away, slipping the knife into my pocket. “I guess I’ll see you Sunday.”

  “Say hi to Bigfoot for me.”

  I’m tempted to flip him the bird, but I go with a polite smile and tongue poke before pulling my backpack on and marching away. I can still hear him laughing as I round the corner.

  Chapter Ten

  MY WALK TO THE MEETING spot takes me past the patch of woods where I’d found Meghan. I know I should just keep walking but something’s still niggling at me, I’m not even sure what exactly.

  Of course, she’s gone but I’m surprised by the relief of that. Did I really expect her to still be hanging here?

  A chill makes me shiver and I wrap my arms around myself.

  It’s the ladder. That’s what’s bugging me. I can’t explain it but something about the ladder being gone and the odd outline in the ground beneath the sturdy branch is almost screaming at me to join the damn dots already.

  The dream plays again behind my eyes. I’m running. No. Meghan is running. Running through the rain so afraid and confused. Was someone chasing her? The whole event is so chaotic that I can’t help but think she did in fact do that to herself during some kind of breakdown.

  Perhaps the recent breakup with her fiancée was simply too much. I remember my own feelings after breaking up with Craig. For a long time, I’d wallowed in a pit of depression and worthlessness, and I hadn’t even liked Craig that much towards the end. How horrible would all that have been if I’d really loved him?

  Slowly my gaze rises again to the sturdy branch and I remember that rush of relief, Meghan and I had felt looking up as the ladder rose up and the noose called so welcoming to—

  “What are you doing here?”

  I yelp and jump back guiltily as a familiar male voice snaps me back to the present.

  “Derick!” I let out a breath but everything inside me stays tense as he eyes me and steps closer from an even darker part of the woods.

  “What are you doing here?” I throw the question back at him. “Where did you even come from?”

  He clears his throat, his expression suddenly nervous as he looks over his shoulder and into the darkness of the woods behind him.

  Instinctively, my hand reaches into my pocket, where I wrap my fingers around the hilt of the knife, Connor had given me earlier.

  Something lights in his eyes and he looks up at the sturdy branch where Meghan had apparently taken her life.

  “It must have been a shock, finding her like that,” he says carefully.

  I can only nod.

  Did he just take a step closer? I hear the crunch of leaves, but his hands are still hanging loose at his sides, almost like he wants to put me at ease.

  My fingers tighten around the hilt. If this is going to happen here, then I may as well get some answers.

  “So, someone mentioned that you and Meghan dated,” I say, trying to nonchalant. Probably failing.

  He blows out a breath, puffing out his cheeks. “Yeah, we were on and off since high school, on for a bunch of years after.” His expression hardens for a moment, but he makes an effort to look unaffected with a shrug. “This place was never big enough or exciting enough for her. All she ever talked about was moving away to the city, but she never did anything about it. She tried to talk me into selling up and moving. When I said I wasn’t interested in ever leaving Radcliffe Wood she declared that I was too boring for her. That was our last breakup.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say, and the words sound weak in my ears.

  He crosses his arms and his jaw tightens. “I said some pretty nasty stuff during that breakup. Stuff I definitely meant... But I wish I hadn’t said.” He looks up at the branch again and his hands form fists. “If I’d just kept my mouth shut. If she hadn’t...”

  He lets out a cry and his fist slams into the tree to his left.

  I jump back with a gasp and it’s like he wakes up from a dream. Derick blinks at me and suddenly his anger is replaced with – embarrassment?

  “Kizz, I’m sorry. I’m freaking you out with stupid crap that I haven’t even thought about in over a year.”

  “No,” I’m quick to say and my finger slip away from the knife. “I was just being nosey. I should have minded my own business.”

  “Trust me, if being nosey is a sin, then this whole town is guilty as hell.” He holds out his hand to me. “Can we shake and draw a massive line across this incredibly humiliating moment?”

  I smile and take his hand. “Line drawn, and I’ve practically forgotten my own name in my effort to forget the last few minutes.” I smile, and he looks relieved. “But you have to promise to do the same for me. Believe me, there will be many times where you’ll see me either tripping over my own feet or stuffing them in my mouth.”

  His eyes narrow. “I’m not sure whether to agree or make sure I’ve packed my camera.”

  I’M NOT SURE HOW MUCH I trust Derick, but I figure if he was going to murder me horribly, he would have done it back when we were alone in the woods, not surrounded by curious adventure seeking campers.

  So, I relax and try to enjoy Payton and Derick’s dramatic monologue about the dangers of entering Bigfoot territory and the importance of not trying to sneak up on him or corner him in any way.

  “From what we’re seen, Bigfoot is a shy and gentle creature,” Payton is saying as she walks beside a
teenage girl and her brother, the parents clinging to each other not far behind.

  Two men armed with long nosed cameras and heavy-looking backpacks, puff loudly as they follow behind but seem good natured as they shoot quickfire questions at Derick about the woods and its hidden secrets, and Derick answers with heavy dollops of wit and charm.

  “To be honest,” Derick is saying. “We don’t know much about how he or they got here. But we suspect it happened the same way many non-native animals found their way here.”

  “Back in the days of the early settlers, traders used to bring anything they thought they could sell. Often, that included rare or exotic animals. Perhaps one of them stumbled onto an abandoned troop of baby Bigfoots and brought them over.”

  “Troop?” The teenage boy sneers. “Dr Houlihan calls them a herd.”

  “Gregory,” his mother admonishes, with an apologetic smile but Derick just grins and throws her a wink that makes her blush slightly.

  “Well,” Derick answers the boy. “She’s also correct. So far the Bigfoot community hasn’t been able to agree on a lot of the terminology so we all just sort of—”

  “Make it up as you go along?” the girl interrupts.

  “Jayne!” Her mother huffs and throws another embarrassed look around at us all. “Sorry.”

  “Come on, you two,” the father says good-naturedly throwing a twig at the back of both his teenagers heads. “You said camping was boring. So here we are, hunting an endangered cryptid. I bet Noel and Howard’s dads don’t take them on woke holidays like this.”

  Both the teenagers round on their father with matching horrified expressions.

  “Dad!”

  The rest of us laugh as the foursome continue to argue about the appropriate language of older generations. I swallow hard as my throat gets thick and my eyes sting a little watching the easy family teasing. It brings back memories of long car trips with Mum and Dad to visit Aunt Judith and Harriet.