by Maeve Hart
Poor Little Witch Girl
Witch Cozy Mystery
Maeve Hart
Book 2 The Reluctant Witch
Copyright © 2017 by Maeve Hart
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 1
The night was darker than normal and strangely quiet. The bright stars and moon were covered over by a blanket of dense clouds. Every time I changed into a wolf I knew that was how I was meant to be. That’s why I’d never fitted in with the women in my family who’d tried to raise me to be just like them—a witch.
While we were running, Jacques nudged me, prodding me to move faster to catch up with the rest of the pack. I obeyed and once I was with them, the rain pelted down on us. Lightning flashed across the sky, lighting up the trees around us as though it were daytime. Then we were plunged back into thick darkness. Out of the silence, thunder shook the ground and in a panic the pack scattered.
I felt someone run past me so I ran with them, unaware of what was going on. I just sensed that I had to get away and I was running fast. When I calmed down, I stopped and realized I wasn’t with the pack. I was alone with Kylie, who I’d been warned was untrustworthy. Fear rippled down my back. She must’ve had some power over my brain to make me follow her.
We stood face-to-face, staring at each other as the rain pounded down on us. I looked behind me once again, wondering where Jacques and the pack were. Kylie bared her teeth and I saw a mouthful of large, pointed white fangs. Then she growled a mean, low growl.
I knew I had to fight her then and there. This was a test and I had to pass it. I had to show that I deserved to be the Alpha’s mate. This was the life I’d chosen now and I couldn’t go back to my old life as a reluctant witch with a struggling interior design business. I had to be with Jacques and this was the only life I wanted.
I bared my teeth and growled back at her, pulling myself up to full height with my four paws on the ground. I could feel my fur bristle and then I saw something in Kylie’s eyes. Was it fear? Did she doubt her ability to beat me in a fight?
When her attention was taken by another bolt of lightning, I lunged at her, grabbing her around the throat with my teeth. I held her down against the ground with the full weight of my body and once I sensed her submission I let her go. She got up and scampered away, whimpering. I knew my teeth had barely pierced her skin. Kylie hadn’t expected me to retaliate.
I headed back to where I had last seen the pack. Soon I picked up their scent slightly to my left and then I saw them. Another loud clap of thunder sent the pack scattering once again. This time Jacques ran at me and stayed close to me, nudging me back toward the house.
After a hot shower, when I was in the safety of Jacques’ bedroom in the house at the compound, I told him what had happened. He’d felt that I was in danger.
“You did the right thing standing up to her like that. Now you know that she’s someone you have to watch out for. Never let her get one up on you.”
I nodded.
“Exactly like I have to do with Seamus,” he said.
“Apart from that, I enjoyed the run.”
He pulled me down onto the couch with him. “I’m glad. It was strange how that storm came out of nowhere.”
“Yes, and I couldn’t believe how loud that thunder was.”
Jacques and I were about to go down to the lower level of his house for breakfast the next morning when my phone sounded. I picked it up and saw from the caller ID that it was Detective Andrews. In an instant, my tranquility vanished and I was drawn back into the deep murkiness that had surrounded my late fiancé’s murder weeks before. I looked up at Jacques and he nodded, telling me he thought I should answer it.
“Hello.”
“Hello, Destiny.”
“Detective Andrews, is everything alright?”
He coughed and hesitated before he spoke again. “I wonder if you might meet me somewhere for a drink or even a cup of coffee?”
My heart pounded and I was glad Jacques trusted me, unlike Don who had always been suspicious and thought I was cheating on him. With his acute hearing that came from being a shifter, I knew Jacques had just heard what the detective said. Jacques lifted an eyebrow slightly and nodded again.
The detective had mentioned weeks before that he wanted to take me out for a drink or dinner when ‘everything was over,’ but everything wasn’t over until someone was in jail for Donald Farrell’s murder. Donald’s sister, Jennifer, was out on bail for Don’s murder and yet to stand trial.
“Sure. When would you like to do that?”
“Would Thursday work for you?”
“Yes. Where should I meet you?”
“Are you still living at the last address you gave me?”
He meant the loft apartment. Jacques owned the whole building and he held it in the name of an entity that couldn’t easily be traced back to him. My cover story was that I was housesitting for a client. “Yes. I’m still there.”
“I’ll collect you at eleven in the morning?”
“Yes, that’ll be fine. I’ll see you then.” I was disturbed by him contacting me out of the blue, and not saying what it was about. The appointment being in the morning told me it was more business than social. A quick glance at Jacques told me he was also worried. “What do you think that’s about? Do you think something else has come up? A new witness has surfaced, or another one of those horrible old neighbors of mine has decided they’ve seen something else?” I bit the inside of my lip.
Jacques shook his head. “No. I’m sure they wouldn’t waste time looking for other suspects once they’ve arrested someone. The police take the easiest route.”
“They haven’t had the trial yet, though. I hope they’re not going back to thinking I killed him.”
“If Andrews had new information to implicate you, he would’ve arrested you. He wouldn’t have asked you out for a drink. He’s obviously attracted to you.”
I looked away from him, knowing he was right about the detective. I had to admit I had felt a twinge of attraction to the detective too, but it wasn’t in the same league as my feelings for Jacques.
No matter what Jacques said, I still feared ending up in jail. It was unfortunate that my neighbors had heard my last argument with Don. He’d physically abused me and I’d ended up with bruises. I was scared the police could twist what happened and make it look like I’d killed him. I only hoped the toxicology report would come back soon, and if the poison in his system was confirmed, I’d be in the clear.
Jacques cut through the concern swirling in my head. “Just go and see what he wants. And you should spend a few days at the loft until you’re ready to move here permanently.”
I nodded, agreeing that it was best to stick to our original plan of me
staying in the loft in the city until after the trial.
“You should touch base with your family, I suppose. I know you want to.”
“It wouldn’t hurt to call and see them, and Abbie.” Abbie was my best friend since school. She was now my only friend since Don had somehow gotten rid of anyone who even looked like they might become a friend.
“Just be careful,” Jacques said, looking concerned again.
“I know. I will.”
“We’ll head off as soon as you’re ready.”
“Now?”
“Yes, right now. We’ll take the chopper and I can do some business over the next couple of days while we’re there.”
“I’ll pack my clothes.” I couldn’t move on with my life until Jennifer had been convicted and the trial was over.
He pulled me into his arms and hugged me. I relaxed and knew everything would be all right. I still didn’t know what Jacques saw in someone like me. He was a handsome billionaire and I wasn’t a model or a movie star and certainly didn’t look like one, but still, I wasn’t going to waste time trying to figure it out. I knew our attraction went beyond the physical plane; we’d connected on a different level than a physical one as soon as we saw each other.
I’d met Jacques in my dream the night before my engagement party. My dream became real when there he was standing before me not long after Don asked me to marry him. The attraction was intense and I knew Jacques felt it too. Jacques was Don’s boss and Don must’ve seen the way we were staring at each other because he made a lame excuse and whisked me away. Two days later, I found Don dead in my apartment.
Jacques unlocked the door of the loft and I walked in. This was the first time I’d seen it with the furniture Jacques and I had chosen together online. I’d given workers a detailed list of where I’d wanted the furniture placed. My belongings were also there in boxes. One advantage of dating a billionaire was that I didn’t have to lift a finger.
The penthouse was where Jacques mainly stayed in the city. He kept a collection of cars there and used a helicopter when he had to go between there and the compound. Conveniently, there was a helipad on the roof. Jacques had renovated the loft so I’d have somewhere to stay until we were ready to officially be a couple.
Since Jacques was a shifter and a billionaire, he felt he was a target and kept away from law enforcement as much as possible. With the police in constant contact with me over the murder, Jacques and I couldn’t always be together.
“It’s stunning,” I said, when he opened the door of the loft apartment.
“I’m glad you like it.”
“I do. It’s magnificent.” I set my small suitcase down and he did the same with the larger one.
“You stay here and have a look around and I’ll get the other bag.”
“Okay.” It was so nice to be with someone even-tempered after being in an abusive relationship with Donald Farrell. When Jacques walked out the door, I headed to the main bedroom. A king-sized bed took center stage and like in Jacques’ bedroom at the compound, there was a seating area to one side. Behind the bed was the ensuite and walk-in wardrobe. I would definitely feel comfortable living here—too comfortable.
Next, I explored the other two bedrooms and was pleased that the place had turned out just as I’d envisioned. Jacques had surprised me by turning my initial concept into the finished product. I was glad it had all worked. When I strolled back into the main living area, I saw boxes on the floor in the corner.
Jacques walked in with another large suitcase. “That’s it.”
Nodding my head to the boxes, I said, “My whole life is in those boxes. I should have an art exhibition and call it, ‘Life Boxes.’”
“You could pitch that idea to your mother.”
I laughed. My mother had many weird and wonderful artists exhibit at her downtown art gallery. Many of the sculptures and even the paintings were things I thought could barely be considered art.
“Your life is more than things.”
“I know that, but these are all the things I’ve collected along the way. The important things.”
He closed the distance between us, placed his arms around my waist, and pulled me to him. “I’m going to miss you.”
“Me too, but it’s only going to be for a couple of days.” We’d discussed that I should be here alone while he would stay close by at his penthouse.
He kissed my forehead. “I know. Make the most of it. The sooner you want to live with me permanently, the better I’ll feel. Visit Abbie and your family and do what you have to do to make it look like you’re living a normal life.”
“I will. I’ll call Abbie soon.”
“I’ll be on my way. I’ve got a meeting to get to.” He leaned down and kissed me on my lips before he walked out the door. Then, he stuck his head back around the corner. “Don’t enjoy your date with that detective too much.”
I giggled at him calling it a date. “I won’t. Don’t worry.”
“Call me.” He gave me a quick wink and then he was gone.
I didn’t know that it made sense for me to pretend I was living at the loft for the sake of my family and the police. If the police were suspicious of me they would know everything about me by now anyway. They would’ve had me followed and tapped my phone, and they’d know about my involvement with Jacques. But still, it felt good to have a place to come to while I was adjusting to living with the pack. They were a little overwhelming at times.
I looked at the boxes and was daunted, not knowing where to start. What was the point of unpacking them all if I was going to live with Jacques permanently in the not too distant future? My best guess, although Jacques had never said so, is that he didn’t think I would be totally in the clear with Don’s murder until Jennifer had been convicted and sentenced.
After taking a peek into a few of the boxes, I decided to leave most of the things packed and just put out the knickknacks and retrieve my clothes. That way, the place would look like it was lived in. The rest of the boxes, I’d leave in cupboards.
The first box was filled with shoes. That was easy. I took them into the bedroom and placed them in the shelves of the walk-in wardrobe.
When I opened the next box, I saw the mail that I had taken from my old apartment the day I’d gone back to collect my things when the forensics had finished. Thinking that it was junk mail—perhaps a bundle of information about a cruise—I opened the letter first and found I was right. It was junk mail from the drycleaner where Don always had his shirts pressed. He wouldn’t allow me to press them even though I’d offered. He’d guessed that my domestic skills were much like my cooking skills and he was right.
Next, I ripped open the package and was surprised to see a loose-paged handwritten document, all in Don’s handwriting. I estimated there were two or three hundred pages all up. My gaze swept across the first page and when I saw Jacques’ name, along with my own and that of my grandmother, my stomach lurched. I had no idea what it was about, but I sat down and started at page one.
Chapter 2
The document in my hands was headed ‘Case 98B.’ I had no idea what that meant. I read on:
Jacques Hunter and Gabriel Morrison are one and the same. This report will outline the activities of Gabriel Morrison based on information that I have gathered over the several months of my employment with his company.
I began my employment with Gabriel Morrison’s company two years ago in an effort to gain insight into his personal practices.
When his parents were killed, Gabriel Morrison went underground, protected by his paternal uncle. He reappeared years later, living under the alias ‘Jacques Hunter.’
Gabriel Morrison is not a member of the human race—his species is not human.
It has been verified that Herbert Mortimore Morrison, Gabriel Morrison’s grandfather, had dealings with Esmeralda Stephens hours before he disappeared just over fifty years ago.
To further the ongoing investigation, I pursued Esmeralda Stephens’ gr
anddaughter, Destiny, and we began dating. Thankfully, she is a simple woman and to this day has no idea that her grandmother has been under investigation. The difficulty in this situation was that I had to have Destiny believe I was going to marry her, otherwise she might have walked. Destiny Stephens has no idea I questioned her grandmother about the shifters.
When I visited Esmeralda Stephens on the pretense of learning about her granddaughter, I asked her about killing the Alpha shifter, telling her I’d overheard a conversation between Fauna Stephens and Destiny Stephens when they were speaking of it. It was known among the family that Esmeralda killed the Alpha. Esmeralda became suspicious when I mentioned him. I had to reinforce that I was there to ask questions about her granddaughter, Destiny Stephens, and I was merely curious about the story I’d heard. When I asked if the Alpha was Herbert Morrison, she was visibly shaken and asked me to leave.
Once the man who is now calling himself Jacques Hunter realizes what I’m doing, he will move in on Destiny to get closer to the woman who was most likely the last person to see his grandfather alive, Esmeralda.
I lifted the large envelope the document had come in and looked for a return address. There wasn’t one. Had Don ordered this to be mailed in the event of his death so I would learn the truth of what was going on? That seemed the only reasonable explanation. I’d collected it from the mailbox at my old apartment, just days after I found him dead.
I read on. The next page read: Information I know to be true so far.
Jacques Hunter is the Alpha shifter and is assembling a pack.
Circumstantial evidence suggests that Esmeralda Stephens killed Herbert Mortimore Morrison, for reasons known only to herself. There is not enough evidence for an arrest, let alone a conviction.
