The Good, the Bad, and the Witchy: A Wishcraft Mystery

by Heather Blake

  Nick’s gaze met mine, and he held it for a long, long time.

  Finally, I said, “We have company, Mimi.”

  Her head came up, and she quickly wiped away her tears. “Dad! Look!” She grabbed the sketch pad and ran over to him.

  As I stood up, I heard his sharp intake of breath.

  “It’s Mom!” Mimi said.

  “I can see that,” he said hoarsely. “Beautiful.”

  Mimi nodded, and Missy pranced around their feet.

  My heart squeezed—not in jealousy, but because it felt so full.

  “Come on, Missy, let’s go show Aunt Ve!” Mimi ran out the door, then turned around and ran back inside, nearly knocking Nick over in the process. She once again threw her arms around me. I kissed the top of her head, and she let go and dashed back outside. I felt her love for me in the pounding of her heart against mine, in the way she held me tight, and the glow in her eyes.

  And my heart felt just a little bit fuller. Any more and it might burst.

  I folded the two chairs and put them aside.

  Nick wandered over to me. There was moisture in his eyes. “You just gave her the best present of her life,” he said softly.

  I shook my head. “You have that the wrong way round.”

  Pulling me into his arms, he looked me in the eye.

  Kaboom! The fullness was too much to bear, and the mush and gush and love spilled over, filling me with warmth from head to toe.

  Nick lowered his head and kissed me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and settled in. Here, in his arms, felt like home. His kiss made my knees weak, my soul sigh. I didn’t want to let him go. Ever.

  * * *

  “Ever” came approximately ten seconds later when I heard Archie’s imitation rooster cry—his calling card announcing his arrival.

  “That’s for me,” I said to Nick, dragging myself away from him.

  “Lousy timing.”

  “Agreed.”

  I grabbed my winter coat and my sketch pads, and Nick carried my box of trinkets for me. Archie in all his brilliant glory sat on the back porch. He blinked slowly at us, then started singing “Love Is in the Air.”

  I groaned. “You’ve been talking to Ve.”

  He laughed, then turned serious as he bowed and said, “The Elder has agreed to your request. She will see you at seven thirty tonight. Go alone and do not be late.”

  He flew off, continuing to sing as he settled into his cage. Tourists walking by stopped and stared at him. He was such a show-off.

  “The Elder?” Nick asked as we walked into the mudroom.

  “I think she may know something about Michael’s death.” I shared with him my recent conversations with Trista and Michael, and what I’d overheard upstairs.

  With an angry set to his jaw, he said, “Let me know what the Elder says. We’re hitting nothing but dead ends.” He winced. “Bad choice of words.”

  Ve was in the kitchen, pouring a cup of tea. Mimi sat at the counter, staring at the picture of her mother. Nick walked over and put his arm around her, and Ve gave me a loving smile.

  “Did you talk to Harriette?” I asked him.

  “Stonewalled,” he said. “She’s a tough cookie and lawyered up after the first couple of questions. If I want more answers from her, I’m going to have to arrest her.”

  Ve gasped. “Surely she had nothing to do with Michael’s death. She’s eighty years old!”

  Nick said, “At this point I’m not ruling anyone out. We did uncover that she’s been making large withdrawals every month for the last year. It’s unclear where the money was going.”

  Were Lydia’s fears founded—about Harriette’s fiancé using her for money? Had she been doling cash out to him regularly? Or had the missing money been a payout for Michael’s spell? “Have you checked Michael’s bank accounts yet?”

  “Still working on that,” he said. “Is Michael here? We can ask him.”

  “Not right now. He disappears a lot. Did you search Harriette’s house?” I asked.

  He nodded. “I found the dress she wore last night and sent the feathers to the lab, but the snips you saw missing from the greenhouse had been returned by the time we arrived.”

  So either they hadn’t been the pair used to stab Michael, or someone had replaced the lost pair pretty damn quick.

  “I need to talk to Amy,” Nick said, breaking the ensuing silence. “Is she still here?”

  Ve sipped her tea. “Upstairs.”

  Mimi’s head popped up. “Amy’s here?”

  “Long story,” Ve said. “Long, long story.”

  I rubbed Missy’s head and said, “I’ll get her.”

  At the top of the steps, I poked my head into Ve’s room. Nothing was amiss, and no one was there. The mystery woman—the Elder—had moved along. Across the hall, I tapped twice on the guest room’s door before pushing it open. “Amy?”

  Whump, whump. Michael was here—somewhere—but I didn’t see his sister. “Amy?” I repeated, walking over to the bed and giving it a pat down. There was no sign of Amy or the cloak.

  I checked the bathroom, and all the other rooms on the second floor. Finally, I walked back into Amy’s room. I noticed her cell phone sitting by the bedside table. Without feeling a shred of guilt for violating her privacy, I flipped it open and scrolled through old messages. One had come in twenty minutes ago—just before five thirty.

  It’s Fisk. Meet me at R’s.

  “R? Who is R?” I said aloud.

  Whump, whump.

  “Do I know R?” I asked Michael.

  Yes.

  Well. That was interesting, because I couldn’t think of a single R related to this case.

  “So, Amy’s definitely gone?” I asked.

  He flickered once.

  Yes.

  I stared at the phone. The number Fisk used had come up unknown. Maybe tracing that number would lead to R. And Fisk. And now Amy. And maybe, I hoped, a killer.

  Chapter Twenty

  Mimi had just left to take Missy for a walk when I came down the steps. I set Amy’s cell phone on the counter next to Nick’s elbow and said, “She’s gone. The cloak, too.”

  “Have mercy,” Ve said. “She can move freely around the village in that cloak.”

  I thought about what the Elder had said about Amy’s invisibility and hoped she was using the cloak at all times.

  Nick picked up her phone and did the same thing I had done—scrolled through old messages.

  “Who’s R?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said, “but Michael says I do.” I glanced at Ve. “Do you know an R related to this case?”

  Ve started ticking off fingers, “Fisk, Amy, Dash, Trista, Lydia, Willard, Harriette, the elusive Louis, Imogene, Ophelia, Bertie . . .” Ve snapped her fingers. “Bertie’s real name is Roberta!”

  “I’ll send an officer over to her place,” Nick said. “I need to make a call. I’ll be right back.” He went out the mudroom door just as the office phone rang.

  “I’ll get it,” I said.

  I rushed down the hallway and grabbed the phone as it trilled a second time. “As You Wish, this is Darcy. What is the wish you wish today?”

  “Darcy, it’s Hot Rod again.”

  “Oh, hi, Hot Rod,” I said loudly.

  I heard commotion in the kitchen, and Ve came scurrying into the room, rubbing her hands in delight.

  “Listen,” he said, “I was tied up at a job and can’t make it there tonight. Just hang on to the money for me, okay? I’ll pick it up Monday.”

  “Monday?” I echoed. “Not tomorrow?”

  Ve’s face fell.

  “I already have plans,” he said.

  “Do you want me to just put it in the mail?” I asked.

  Ve shook her head so vehemently that her hair twist came loose. Coppery strands framed her face.

  “No. Monday’s fine. I’ll see you then.”

  I gently put the phone back in its cradle and went and put my arm aro
und Ve.

  “He’s not coming?” she asked.

  “Nope. Got held up at a job.”

  Ve drew in a deep breath and started worrying her hands, twisting her fingers. “Oh dear.”

  “Maybe this is a sign that you should focus on your relationship with Terry,” I said.

  She stuck her tongue out at me and went back into the kitchen.

  With a smile on my face, I followed her. Nick came back inside, and a moment later, Mimi burst through the doors, saying, “Look who I found!”

  For a second my hopes rose that she’d found Tilda while out on her walk—until I saw Glinda Hansel stroll in behind her.

  Talk about deflation.

  “Hansel?” Nick said. “What are you doing here?”

  She still looked exhausted, which still cheered me up, but even with the puffy eyes, dark circles, and village police uniform she was stunning. I sat on a stool next to Nick.

  Her gaze flicked to the drawing on the countertop, and her face lit up. “Oh my! Melina!”

  Mimi bounced over, Missy cradled in her arms. “You knew my mom?”

  Glinda’s personality took a one hundred and eighty degree turn. She picked up the picture and smiled, ear to ear. She’d gone from beautiful to dazzling in a split second.

  That didn’t cheer me up at all.

  “We grew up together,” Glinda said, her eyes glittery.

  “You did?” Nick asked. “I didn’t know that.”

  “Melina never mentioned me to you?” Glinda asked.

  “No,” Nick murmured.

  It wasn’t odd to me that this was news to Nick because he once told me that Melina spoke little about her life in the village after she renounced her Craft. It was as if she had wanted to leave it all behind.

  It was odd to me that Glinda hadn’t mentioned it to him before now.

  “We were best friends,” Glinda said. “We lived right next door to each other until Mel’s mom moved them to Rhode Island after graduation. Oh, the stories I could tell!”

  Ve shot me a look. I didn’t even try to decipher it.

  Missy wiggled in Mimi’s arms, and she set the dog on the floor. Missy walked over to her dog bed, turned three times, and settled in. She didn’t close her eyes to sleep, however. She just lay there listening.

  “Really?” Mimi’s eyes were the size of saucers.

  “Definitely.” Glinda soaked in the artwork. “Where’d you get this picture? I didn’t think any existed. It’s so good to see her again.”

  “Darcy drew it,” Mimi said.

  “Oh,” Glinda said flatly.

  Nick said, “What are you doing here, Hansel?”

  Glinda set the drawing back on the counter, and her personality zipped back to tough-girl cop. “The phone company finally got back to us with a trace on Amy Healey’s cell phone. Guess where it is?” she said with a bit of a snarky tone.

  Nick picked it up off the counter and wiggled it. “Right here.”

  Glinda’s eyes narrowed. “What is it doing here?”

  “Amy left it here earlier,” he said. “But she’s gone now.”

  “Is she?” Glinda asked, eyebrows raised.

  “Yes.” Nick set the phone back on the counter.

  “Can I see you outside, Chief?” Glinda said tightly.

  He nodded once and didn’t look back at me as he followed her outside.

  “What’s going on?” Mimi asked as the back door clicked shut.

  “A power struggle, I’d say.” Ve tucked the loose strands of her hair back in place.

  My stomach ached a bit. I wondered if Glinda was giving him the same warning she’d given me. I’d debated whether to tell him about it—because it had seemed like it had been born of jealousy. But now I wondered if what Ve had said might be closer to the truth. Maybe this wasn’t about jealousy at all. Maybe it was about Glinda’s trying to move up the ladder at the police department.

  Nick came back inside alone.

  “Where’s Glinda?” Mimi asked, craning her neck toward the door.

  “I sent her to check Bertie’s house.”

  Since he’d already sent an officer to do that, I had the feeling he just wanted to get rid of her.

  I was beyond grateful for that.

  There was, however, a set to his jaw that I didn’t like. She’d definitely given him the same warning she’d given me.

  What did he think about it?

  “We should go,” he said to Mimi.

  Uh-oh. I didn’t like his reserved tone.

  Ve clapped her hands. “I’ve ordered pizza for dinner. Surely you and Mimi can stay a little longer.”

  “Higgins . . . ,” Nick said.

  “Oh, I checked on him a little while ago,” Mimi said, “before I came back here. Walked him and fed him. He’s fine. So we can stay?”

  Nick looked pained, but I knew he’d never refuse his daughter. Slowly, he nodded.

  “Good, good.” Ve smiled. “Mimi, grab some plates. We’ll set up in the family room like a picnic. Nick, while we have you, maybe you can share what happened at the festival today with poor Imogene. I heard some sore loser accosted her?”

  Nick shook his head. “There was no accosting, but someone did slip something into her drink.”

  “Like a roofie?” Mimi asked as she opened a cabinet.

  We all stared at her.

  “What?” she said. “We learned about them in school.”

  “Not a roofie,” Nick said with a slight smile. “She fell ill and was taken to the hospital. She’s doing much better and has already been released. Fortunately, she hadn’t had too much of the tampered drink or the situation could have been far worse.”

  “Sheesh,” Mimi said. “Those bakers take their pies seriously.”

  I smiled. She sounded a little like Evan.

  “Yeah,” Nick murmured.

  “Do you know what the drink was spiked with?” Ve asked.

  “Not yet,” he said, fussing with Amy’s phone.

  By his demeanor, I could tell he was lying. He knew. And because of the way he was acting, I could guess what had been in the drink.

  Antifreeze.

  The link was disturbing. The public didn’t know that antifreeze poisoning had killed Michael. The only ones who knew were the police, me, the killer—and me. And now Imogene had nearly suffered the same fate? It worried me that the killer had an eye for more victims. I had gone from thinking that the Wickeds had been involved in Michael’s death to being concerned for their safety. Did they know something about the killer’s identity? Were they all going to be targets now?

  Nick slid a surreptitious look my way, and I frowned at him.

  This silence of his was because of Glinda. What she’d warned.

  And, damn it, I couldn’t blame him for keeping information important to the case to himself.

  I sighed.

  He put his hand on my leg and gave it a squeeze.

  It didn’t make me feel better.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said, and went upstairs to get my laptop from my room. I figured I’d get a little work done while we waited for the pizza to arrive. And I hoped it would take my mind off the tension with Nick.

  I brought my laptop downstairs and into the family room. I clicked on the gas fireplace and turned on a few crystal table lamps. It wasn’t a large room, but it was my favorite in the house. It was comfy. Cozy. Home. Bookshelves lined one wall and were stuffed with everything from Harlequin romances to Chaucer. The couch was big, deep, and the most comfortable piece of furniture in the house. Club chairs upholstered in bold-colored florals faced the sofa, but I bypassed those and sat on the deep-pile area rug in front of the coffee table. Mimi crowded in next to me.

  “What are we looking for?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure,” I said to her. “I’m trying to find Fisk, and other than Michael and Amy, there aren’t many people who know him well. I talked to his mom today, and she has no idea where he is.”

  “Would sh
e tell you?” Mimi asked.

  I smiled. She was a smart girl. “She’s the one who hired me to find him.”

  “She did?” Nick said. He sat on the couch, holding a mug of coffee. I was pretty sure that Ve had laced it with bourbon—I could smell the sweetness of the liquor in the air.

  “Trista thinks he might be in danger.”

  His face darkened. “And what would you do once you found him, since you know how hard we’ve been searching for him?”

  Yep. Glinda had definitely gotten to him.

  Great.

  “Well,” I said, “I’d let his mother know where he is. That’s what I was hired to do.”

  Mimi said, “Maybe you should hire Darcy, Dad.”

  Missy barked as if in agreement.

  Nick said nothing, but he fairly gulped his coffee.

  I typed Fisk’s name into the computer. There wasn’t a single hit. Not even a Facebook account. Dead end. “Not even a little. It’s hard to find someone based on only a first name.”

  Carrying a tray, Ve came in from the kitchen. “Have you had any luck finding Louis, Darcy?”

  “Are there any Crafters named Louis?” I typed “Louis” and “Enchanted Village” into the search engine.

  Ve tucked her legs beneath her. “Not that I can recall off the top of my head.”

  The search engine spit out some results, but nothing that seemed relevant.

  “If Louis exists,” I said, “he has to be a Crafter, right? With Harriette’s snobbery, she’d never marry a mortal, would she?”

  Ve chuckled. “The heart wants what the heart wants, Darcy.”

  I refused to look at Nick. “I suppose.”

  Mimi said, “Try typing it in the other way.”

  I glanced at her. “What do you mean?”

  “We just finished reading ‘Jabberwocky’ in school. . . .”

  “Lewis Carroll!” I exclaimed. “You’re brilliant, Mimi.”

  “What am I missing?” Ve asked.

  “Maybe I’ve been spelling Louis wrong,” I said. I typed in “Lewis,” “Enchanted Village,” plus the village’s zip code into the search engine.

  I squealed when a White Pages listing came up.

  “Lewis R. Renault,” Mimi read.

  Ve leaned forward. “Renault, Renault. I know that name. How do I know that name?” She looked at Nick.