Witch Way to Hallows' Bay: A Brimstone Bay Mystery (Brimstone Bay Mysteries Book 2)

by N. M. Howell

  And yes, I know, ghosts aren’t actually white. It’s just an expression. So, sue me.

  “We’ve got you on tape admitting to murder, Mrs. Wong,” Officer Trenton said. He was standing beside her, his hand firmly grasping her shoulder.

  Grace blinked, and her expression began to change as the reality of what was happening seemed to finally come crashing down on her. She began to shake.

  “No, it was a mistake,” she said frantically. “It wasn’t me. I was just talking big.”

  “You did something terrible, Grace,” I said. “You’re not getting out of this one.”

  Grace’s eyes grew wild. “It was him!” she shouted as she pointed towards Zack on the ground. “You saw him with your own eyes. He went back to cover his tracks. He did it so he could be with me!”

  “Don’t implicate me in your mess,” Zack shouted back. “You’re an evil, power-hungry whore with no conscience.”

  “You said you loved me,” Grace yelled. She was crying now. “You told me you loved me, remember?”

  “How could I love such a monster?” Zack pushed himself up and tried to steady his breathing with a few deep breaths.

  “I did it for you,” Grace sobbed. “Baby, you can’t let me go to jail. Do something. Save me.”

  “You didn’t do this for me,” Zack spat. “You did this to advance your career.”

  Grace screamed a loud, blood-curdling scream, and everyone in the room covered their ears to protect themselves from the nearly inhuman sound.

  She then took advantage the opportunity and twisted out of Officer Trenton’s grip, and lunged forward toward the officer with the gun.

  “Grace, no!” I called.

  But it was too late. Grace ripped the gun from the unsuspecting officer’s hand and waved it above her head as best she could with both hands cuffed together, and she continued screaming at the top of her lungs.

  She shot two shots into the ceiling before Officer Trenton threw himself at her and tackled her onto the floor.

  On her way down, she fired a third shot at the room, and a number of us screamed and threw ourselves onto the ground. My body shook as I pressed my face to the floor, my hands covering my head instinctively.

  I never understood why characters in movies reacted that way to a gun shot. It’s not like your hands covering your head could stop a bullet. I began to laugh nervously to myself at the thought. Who knew I would ever experience it first-hand? At least, now, I understood the reaction.

  The officers in the room sprung to action immediately, but I felt like the world was moving in slow motion around me. My ears were ringing, and I watched as Grace was dragged out of the room and the gun was seized by another officer.

  I slowly pushed myself up off the ground. My heart was pounding, and Jordan wrapped his arms around me and held me close as I shook.

  A moment later, he pushed away from me and stepped towards Zack, who didn’t seem to be moving.

  “Zack?” I asked, kneeling down beside him after following Jordan’s lead. When he didn’t answer, I put my hand on his shoulder and pushed him over so he would look at me.

  Zack’s lifeless form fell backward toward to floor, revealing a gunshot wound in the middle of his chest.

  “Oh, my God,” I jumped back and stared down at him. “Oh, my God!” I screamed.

  Jordan threw himself down on the ground next to Zack and listened for his breathing. He then felt for a pulse on both his neck and his wrist, and immediately placed his hands on his chest to begin CPR.

  I watched as he withdrew his hand after the first compression, his hands dripping with blood from the wound.

  Jordan looked up at me and shook his head. “He’s dead.”

  I fell to my knees and stared at the body. “I..” I couldn’t formulate a coherence sentence. I took a shallow, shuttering breath and tried again to speak. “But he was just alive.”

  Jordan wiped the blood from his hands onto his pants and came to wrap his arms around me again. I couldn’t stop shaking, and could barely hear Jordan’s words of comfort that he was whispering into my ear.

  The officer Jordan called Josh came back into the room, and took in the scene.

  “Dammit,” he swore. He moved towards the body and went through the same motions that Jordan had done.

  “He’s dead,” I said, stating the obvious.

  “Yes,” Josh agreed.

  Josh looked up to Jordan with a sympathetic look on his face. “Why don’t you take her home. We’ll call you for a statement later. Right now, we’ve got our hands full.”

  Jordan nodded. “Alright. Thank you.”

  Sheriff Reese was in the back, helping the other officers deal with Grace. We passed Mayor Scott on our way out of the restaurant. The Mayor looked solemn and didn’t speak. He was simply looking down at the body and shaking his head.

  Jordan put his hand on the Mayor’s shoulder, who then snapped his head up as if he was breaking himself from a trance.

  “Why don’t you go home,” Jordan said. “Sheriff Reese and the officers can handle this. Go home and relax. We can grab a beer tomorrow and talk about this if you like.”

  The Mayor nodded and Jordan patted him on the back and he walked by us and out of the restaurant without saying a word. I sometimes forgot they were friends, but, right then, I was grateful for it. Mayor Scott would have a mess to deal with once word got out about what happened, and I was glad that he had someone to talk to about it to keep him sane.

  “My sweater,” I said as Jordan pulled me through the front door of the restaurant.

  He raised his eyebrow and looked down at me. “What about your sweater?”

  “Office,” I said. I was finding complete sentences difficult. I suspected that I was in shock.

  Jordan nodded then led me towards the office door. It was unlocked, and we headed upstairs to my work to get my sweater.

  I stopped abruptly when we reached the upstairs door and stared into the room at the scene that lay before us.

  JoAnn was cowering in the back corner; her hands were over her ears, and she was rocking back and forth. Her face was pale and she didn’t even seem to notice we had come in.

  There were three bullet holes in the floor around her desk.

  “Oh, my God,” I said. I ran over to JoAnn and held her face in my hands.

  “JoAnn,” I spoke gently to her, and she slowly met my gaze. “JoAnn, are you okay?”

  “The floor has holes in it,” she said after a long moment.

  “It does. Grace had a gun.”

  JoAnn stared at me with wide eyes then nodded.

  I glanced back to Jordan who was already on the phone.

  Jordan muttered a few words and hung up, and not a minute later Mayor Scott walked through the door.

  He walked over to JoAnn and crouched down next to me.

  “Hey, JoAnn,” he said. “Why don’t we get you out of here? Let’s go back to my office and have some hot tea, okay?”

  JoAnn looked up to him and nodded. “Yeah, sure. Thanks. That would be nice.”

  He helped her up, and I handed her the jacket that was on the back of her chair.

  “Thank you,” she managed a half smile.

  “You okay?” I repeated. I really didn’t know what else to say.

  She shrugged. “Yeah, I think so. Sorry. Just a bit… shaken up. There are holes in the floor.”

  I hugged her and could feel she was still shaking. The two of us felt like cold Chihuahuas, unable to stop our shivering.

  “I’ll have this repaired as soon as I can,” Jordan said, motioning to the floors.

  JoAnn nodded. “Was anyone hurt?”

  I exchanged looks with Mayor Scott and Jordan.

  “Why don’t we go have that tea,” Mayor Scott said.

  I smiled at JoAnn. “That sounds like a great idea. We’ll chat soon.”

  The Mayor led JoAnn out of the office, leaving Jordan and me alone.

  I reached my hands for him, and he pul
led me in for another hug. I pressed my face into his chest and tried to force myself to not think about what had just happened downstairs. He smelt like vanilla and sawdust, and I focused on his scent, allowing it to consume my thoughts. I felt calmed, and, after a few minutes, I could have easily fallen asleep in his arms.

  “Why don’t we go to your place,” Jordan said. “Let’s get away from here.”

  “That sounds great.”

  Jordan held my hand and led me down the stairs and to his car that was parked just down the street. He helped me into the passenger seat and buckled my seatbelt for me. It was as if I had lost all ability to function properly, and all I could do was stare forward and try to maintain even breathing.

  “It’s normal to experience shock after witnessing something like that,” he said soothingly to me. He squeezed my hand after climbing into the driver’s seat and started the car.

  I looked out the window and nodded. “Okay.”

  “Let’s get you home,” he said.

  We took off down the street, the flashing lights of the police cars fading behind us as we drove away together in silence.

  17

  Bailey, Rory, and Jane were waiting for me at the house when we arrived, and I could tell by their expressions that they were not expecting to see me looking the way I did.

  Jordan walked me into the house, and the girls stepped aside to let us through.

  It was a testament to how great my housemates were that they recognized how distraught I was and didn’t bombard me with questions the moment I came home.

  “I’ll make tea,” Rory said right away, rushing down the stairs to Mrs. Brody’s apartment.

  Mrs. Brody appeared a moment later and looked me up and down. “Better come down, dear.”

  Jordan looked down at me, and I nodded my approval. We walked down the stairs to the basement apartment, hand in hand, and I curled up in a ball on the old vintage couch in the living room.

  Jane and Bailey sat beside me on the couch, and Jordan found a seat on the chair opposite me.

  “Here’s some tea. It’s a blend of chamomile and citrus.” Rory brought a tray with a tea pot and six cups on it a few minutes later.

  “Let me help with that,” Mrs. Brody said. She ran back into the kitchen and rummaged through her large cabinet and brought out a jar filled with some sort of dark crushed herbs.

  “This will make you feel better.” She brought the jar over to us and sprinkled the herbs into my tea cup.

  “Looks like you could do with some, too, dear,” she said to Jordan. She sprinkled the herbs into his cup as well before he had a chance to protest.

  We all sipped the tea in silence, and I could feel everyone’s eyes on me.

  Whatever Mrs. Brody put in the tea, I was grateful for it. I could feel the warmth filling my body; a sense of calm washing over me.

  A soft meowing came from the far side of the room, and three adorable little cats came walking towards us. Big fat Momma and her little kitten Agnes flopped down on the floor at Mrs. Brody’s feet, and Soot came and jumped up on my lap.

  As per usual, he flopped on his back, expecting tummy rubs and attention. Leave it to the cat to make everything about him.

  “So,” Bailey said after a few moments of silence. She glanced nervously between Jordan and me. “Was the date that bad?”

  I nearly spit out my tea as I laughed. I supposed that’s how everything must have looked to them. The last we spoke, I was headed out on my date with Jordan.

  “Wasn’t the best date in the world, I’ll admit that much,” Jordan said.

  I did my best to smile. “Yeah, it could have gone better.”

  Everyone seemed even more confused by what we had said, and my housemates sat there staring at me as I sipped my tea.

  I sighed and rubbed my eyes, trying to think of the best way to summarize the events of the past few hours.

  “Grace Wong is in jail, and Zack Brendon is dead.”

  Silence. I sipped my tea as I let my words sink in with those around me.

  “Grace is in jail,” Rory repeated.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Zack is dead,” Bailey repeated.

  “Yes.”

  “What the heck did you guys do on your date?” Jane asked.

  While it may not have been appropriate given the situation, I couldn’t help but laugh. I let the laughter consume me, and soon the whole room was laughing. It felt good, and I could sense the tension leave my body.

  I wiped tears from my eyes and tried to bring myself back to the present moment.

  “Tell us what happened, dear,” Mrs. Brody said.

  I blew out a sigh and prepared myself to relive the events of the evening.

  “Jordan and I saw an interview with Grace on TV during our date. She was all excited about expanding Trey’s restaurant chain and just announced their opening in Italy,” I said.

  “We clued in right away,” Jordan continued. “Trey never would have allowed the expansion if he were alive. He wanted to settle down and sell off some of his restaurants, but Grace was lying on TV, saying that it was Trey’s dream to expand.”

  “So, you’re saying Grace is the murderer?” Bailey asked. Everyone in the room looked shocked.

  I nodded. “Yeah, and we got her to confess on tape.”

  “Wow,” Rory said. “I can’t believe that.”

  “She seemed genuinely upset at the party,” Bailey said. “I didn’t think there was any way someone could fake that sort of emotion.”

  I shrugged. “She’s a good actress, I guess.”

  “And what did you mean about Zack? How can he be dead?” Jane asked.

  “Grace shot him,” I said, rubbing my temples in attempt to subside the headache that I could feel building in the back of my head.

  “What?” Rory stared at me incredulously. “I don’t understand.”

  “Turns out he was covering up her tracks,” I said. “When we saw him in New York, he wasn’t there to steal the story. He was there trying to protect Grace.”

  “And she shot him because of it?” Rory asked.

  I shook my head. “After we caught her in her lie, the police stormed in and arrested her. Only, she had a gun and ended up shooting at the room. Jordan and I were lucky we didn’t get shot. Zack wasn’t so lucky.”

  Mrs. Brody was shaking her head as if she wouldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Those poor boys.”

  “Wait, so this means Mrs. Pots is clear?” Rory asked.

  I blinked and sat up. “Oh, yeah, I completely forgot. She must be out by now.”

  Mrs. Brody pushed herself up from her chair. “I’d better go check on her. Make sure she’s okay.”

  “I’ll come, too,” Jane said.

  “Same,” Bailey added.

  “I want to come, too” Rory agreed. “River, are you coming?”

  I shook my head. “No, thanks. I don’t think I can handle that right now. I just need some space.”

  Rory came over and put her hand on my shoulder. “Is there anything you need?”

  “No, thanks,” I smiled. “I’ll be fine. I just need to sleep, I think. Give Mrs. Pots a big hug for me, will you?”

  Rory nodded. “She’ll be wanting to give you one in person, I’d imagine, seeing as you’re the one responsible for setting her free.”

  “And Jordan,” I said. “He was pretty much the brains behind the operation.”

  Jordan smiled and I winked back at him.

  I then began to blush because I realized how stupid I must have looked winking at him like an idiot.

  I hid my head in my hands and willed myself to magically disappear. Unfortunately, my magic doesn’t work that way.

  Mrs. Brody and the girls left to go to the Sheriff’s office to see Mrs. Pots, leaving Jordan and me alone in the house.

  “I need some fresh air,” I said.

  Jordan nodded. “Sure. Where?”

  “Let’s go down to the beach,” I suggested. The waves wer
e calming, and I was beginning to become a firm believer that the salty sea air could cure just about anything.

  Jordan and I walked through the yard, which still had the decorations up from the party, and descended the steep staircase down the bluffs to the beach below.

  The night was windy, and the waves crashed hard against the shore. The immense noise from the ocean made my problems seem small, and it was a refreshing feeling.

  Jordan held my hand as we walked.

  “So, does this mean we’re dating now?” he asked.

  I laughed. “I don’t know. Does it?”

  “Well, we went on a date,” he said. “And I did make you weak in the knees that one time.”

  I nudged him with my shoulder as we walked. “Did not.”

  “Did, too,” he said. “Besides, I plan on taking you out on more dates, so I think that technically means we’re dating.”

  “Technically,” I agreed.

  The moment was ruined when my phone rang, and I saw Sheriff Reese’s number appear on my screen.

  “Better answer that,” Jordan said. “Could be important.”

  I sighed and swiped my phone to answer.

  “Hey, Sheriff,” I said.

  “We found the original source of the spell,” the sheriff said.

  I stopped walked and turned to Jordan.

  “How? Who was it?” I asked.

  Jordan raised his eyebrows, but didn’t interrupt.

  “That Steve guy was quite the talker, apparently. They took him in for questioning in New York, and got the name of the man who gave him the spell that killed Trey Wong. He was arrested about an hour ago.”

  “Who was it?” I asked.

  “Some bartender from one of those underground nightclubs,” he said. “Apparently, he’s a shifter, or whatever you call those people these days. Miles Cochrane.”

  I froze in place. “Miles from Shine nightclub?”

  “That’s the one. You know him?”

  “No, but I know someone who does. Thanks, Sheriff.”

  I hung up the phone and stared wide-eyed at Jordan. My headache began to come back full force, and my head felt like it was about to explode.

  “What’s going on?” Jordan asked.

  “They arrested the man responsible for the spell.”