Murder's a Witch: A Beechwood Harbor Magic Mystery (Beechwood Harbor Magic Mysteries Book 1)

by Danielle Garrett

  Nick smiled. “I just moved here, actually.”

  “Oh, well then, in that case, welcome!” She reached out her hand. “I’m Cassandra, but everyone calls me Cassie.”

  “Nicholas Rivers.” Nick replied. He flashed a pointed look at me. “People usually call me Nick.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Nick. Where are you from originally?”

  Cassie and her younger sister, Kirra, were born and raised in Beechwood Harbor. They thrived in the small town life and were incredibly warm and welcoming to newcomers. It was part of the reason that Cassie and I had become such fast friends even though she wasn’t a supernatural and didn’t know that I was a witch. She had been assigned to training me as a barista once I got the job at Siren’s Song and we bonded over those first few weeks. After everything that happened in Seattle and the other havens, I was nervous about adjusting to life in a non-magical community but after meeting Cassie, I relaxed and decided that maybe it would be a change for the better. For that, I would always be grateful to her.

  Thinking back to my own arrival in Beechwood Harbor, I couldn’t fault Cassie for being so sweet to Nick. It was just her nature and something that I appreciated about her, despite her hospitality’s current beneficiary.

  “You live here?” I interjected, thinking back to our conversation in the bushes. Hadn’t he said he’d come into town on a case? And to check out the Beechwood Manor since he was nearby. He hadn’t said anything about living here.

  “Yes, as I said, recently relocated,” Nick said, his tone butter smooth. “From the LA area, actually.”

  Cassie shot me a strange look, confused by my sharp tone, and then turned her smile back on. She leaned over toward Nick. “That sounds exciting. I’ve never been to California.”

  A cold shiver snaked up my spine. Years had passed since the last time I was in Los Angeles. But still…something about it didn’t sit right. Nick was a long way from home. And I wanted to know why. Last night, he told me he was in the area working a case. Judging from the fact that we first met in my front yard, and then less than twelve hours later he was at my place of employment, I couldn’t help but wonder if the target of this case was me.

  “You should go someday. I already miss the sunshine.”

  Cassie laughed, the sound light and bubbly. “You’ll get used to the weather here, I promise. Summer is right around the corner and we’ll have some of that sunshine for ourselves.”

  Nick grinned at her. “That’s good to hear.”

  “If you need to know where anything is, just stop in, or give us a call.” Cassie reached over to pick up a business card for the shop from a stack on the counter in front of the register. She handed it to Nick and smiled. “See? It’s a magnet so you can slap it right on your fridge.”

  “Clever,” he said, inspecting the glossy magnet. “Thank you, Cassie. It was very nice to meet you. Caffeine is my lifeblood, so I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other quite often.” Nick flashed a smile at me. “Holly, always a pleasure.” He lifted his paper cup like he was making a silent toast before he turned and left the small shop.

  He walked out of sight, throwing us another wave as he passed by the last of the large windows along the front wall. Cassie waited a full beat before she lunged at me and grabbed my arm. “Finally! How long have I been begging for some decent looking guys to move into town?”

  “Hey!” Lionel Murray, one of our regulars took umbrage from his corner table. “I’m right here, Cassie. Anytime you need a handsome man to take you out…”

  She gave a nervous laugh. “Right, Mr. Murray.” She twitched her fingers in his direction and he flashed a smile before hunching back over his keyboard. He was at least twenty years older than Cassie and usually smelled like cigar smoke. As soon as he was occupied again, she winced and then lolled her head, her tongue sticking out like a dead fish. Well, if fish had tongues anyways…

  I shuddered at the strange thought. “Well, he’s all yours, Cass.”

  Cassie folded her arms. “Yeah, I noticed you were a little…frosty. What was that all about?”

  I paused, wondering if I should tell her about my original meeting with Nick, but quickly decided against it. If she was truly interested in him, who was I to spoil it for her? Then again, I was close friends with Cassie, which meant that if she and Nick hit it off, I’d be stuck dealing with him a lot more. And I already had a feeling our interactions were going to be too frequent.

  I forced myself to stop wandering down rabbit trails, and smiled at my friend. “I didn’t mean to be. He’s just not my type. I’m sure he’s great.”

  Cassie grinned and peeked over at me from the corner of her eye as she rearranged the trays in the case. She worked quickly, consolidating pastries and organizing what was left after the morning rush. “You’ve got Adam anyways.”

  “What?” A surprised laugh burst from my lips. “No, no. That’s so not true!”

  Cassie smirked and closed the case back up. “Sure, sure, keep denying it. He lives what, five feet from you? There’s no way you can be that close to someone so delish and not notice.”

  If only she knew the truth.

  Adam St. James was a shifter and if I’d sworn off relationships with non-supers, then I’d doubly sworn off shifters. Nothing but trouble. And not the fun kind.

  “Oh, I’m not saying I haven’t noticed him. Adam is not the kind of guy to go unnoticed.” I laughed and shook my head, thinking about the wannabe Casanova. “But trust me. We’re just friends.”

  “Mmhmm. Right.” Cassie giggled and rounded the counter to go wipe down the tables. I smiled as she gave Mr. Murray’s table a wide berth. “All I’m saying is that if Adam ever looked at me the way he looked at you, I would have a really hard time turning him down.”

  I rolled my eyes. That was Adam.

  “I’m happy just being a crazy cat lady,” I said, smiling across the room at Cassie. I leaned against the back counter and picked up my now-cold latte. “Boots is the only man I need in my life right now.”

  Cassie roared with a peal of laughter. “That’s just sad!”

  I grinned. “What can I say, he gets me.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  IT WAS MY SHORT day at Siren’s Song, so after I put in my four hours, I left Cassie and Frankie to close up and headed back home. I barely got three steps inside the expansive foyer of the old home, before I was greeted by Posy, her face pale—well, more than normal anyways—and a roar of shouting ricocheting down the hall from the direction of the kitchen.

  I scrubbed a hand down my face. Peg had remained in a grumpy mood all day and chased Cassie and me around the small shop, barking at us like an obnoxious ankle biting dog. I peeked out at Posy through my fingers. “Do I even want to know?”

  “Probably not. But you need to fix it before they tear each other apart. They won’t listen to me.” Her expression resembled a librarian who just caught someone putting a book away in the wrong place.

  I glanced down the hall on the other side of the grand staircase and stared longingly at the door to my room. If I bolted, I could lock myself inside before anyone else realized I was back home again.

  Posy glowered at me. “They’re one step away from getting booted! I can’t take this stress!”

  I huffed. I didn’t need to ask who they were. She was referring to Adam St. James, resident shifter, and Lacey Vaughn, our vampiress-slash-pageant queen.

  I grimaced before I asked my next question. “He didn’t ask her out again, did he?”

  She shook her head. “Worse.”

  “Worse?” My eyebrows shot up my forehead. “What could he have—”

  I stopped. “He didn’t?”

  Posy nodded. “He did.”

  “He’s an idiot…” I groaned and balled my hands tight against the rush of magic that threatened to spill out.

  Posy shrugged her silvery silhouette shoulder. “No arguments from me. Back in my day, shifters lived in their own communes. Not by their own choice, m
ind you. Now, thanks to the council, they just run amok!” Posy glided up toward the ceiling. “I’m going to rest. Fix it, Holly.”

  Before I could object, she shimmered out of sight. She spent most of her time at the Beechwood Manor and while she no longer had a room, she mostly occupied the attic and it served as her sanctuary away from the rest of us. I’d been up there once, and found it was littered wall to wall with old trunks and boxes. I had no idea what they contained. I’d been ordered not to go rifling through them by Adam when I first moved in. He’d been living at the manor for a few years and knew all the rules. Not that it kept him from breaking them on a semi-regular basis.

  Whatever was in the attic, it soothed Posy’s ghost-anxieties and kept her energy balanced. If I were a betting witch, I would guess that there wasn’t anything special in the attic that calmed her, it was just the absence of the insanity that spilled out all over the rest of the house.

  “No rest for the witches, huh?” I stalked to my room, opened the door, and let Boots out. “Hey pal. You wanna come sharpen your claws on a couple of troublemakers?” Boots rammed his head against my leg and then went to weaving in and around my feet as I slipped out of my black knit sweater. I tossed the garment onto my bed before closing the door again. “Well, come on then,” I said to the orange butterball with legs.

  Truthfully, he’d be no match for a vampire or a shifter—especially not Adam’s beast form, a huge, black dog that was closer in size to a grizzly bear than a Labrador. But it helped me to have Boots at my feet.

  I went down the hallway and stopped short, my hand resting on the swinging door that led into the kitchen.

  “Fleabag!”

  “Fanger!”

  Oh, good, the mature phase of the argument had clearly begun.

  I pushed into the room, balled my hands, and planted them on my hips. My glare cut to Adam first and then to Lacey. They were squared off against each other, one on either side of the L-shaped counter. At my entrance, they both stopped shooting daggers at each other, and turned them in my direction.

  “Are you trying to get us all evicted?” I growled.

  Adam folded his arms across his broad chest and smirked. “Don’t worry, gorgeous, if we get evicted, I’ll take care of you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Adam, don’t start.”

  Adam flirted as naturally as most people breathed. It was embedded in his DNA.

  “This isn’t any of your concern, witch,” Lacey said, her tone just as cold as the look in her almost black eyes.

  Boots hissed.

  “Shouldn’t you be in a coffin somewhere?” I asked Lacey. “Sun’s still out.”

  Lacey launched over the counter, but I flung a shielding spell at the last moment, blocking her from me. She bounced off like a Frisbee hitting a tree trunk. “You little…”

  “Watch it, princess.” I turned to Adam. “And you, what on earth is your problem?”

  “You’re going to have to be more specific,” he replied, his smirk still in place and his tone like honey, slow and lazy.

  Ugh.

  I narrowed my eyes. “Why are you stirring up trouble with Lacey?”

  “It’s fun,” he said, shrugging his broad shoulders.

  “You’re that bored?”

  “I told you to go chase a bone at the park,” Lacey offered, picking invisible lint off her merlot colored t-shirt.

  “Helpful,” I muttered. That explained what Adam was bent out of shape about.

  Adam gestured at Lacey. “Ice queen over there was traipsing around in her crown and sash. What was I supposed to do, Holly? You know that’s too much temptation for me.”

  I stifled a smile. Lacey had recently decided to participate in a Ms. Undead pageant—or, at least that’s what Adam and I had taken to calling it when she wasn’t around. Whatever it was actually called, it was a beauty pageant for supernaturals, and Lacey was determined to get the first place crown. She practiced constantly, mostly in the late afternoon, between the time she woke up and the time the sun went down, when she could leave the manor without being reduced to a pile of cinders.

  Lacey stomped her high-heel clad foot on the tile floor and glared over at Adam. “The pageant is in three weeks! I have to practice and I can’t do that with you mocking me!” Lacey whined.

  I hated it when she whined. It gave me flashbacks to my academy days, listening to the prissy girls in my spellcraft classes. They weren’t actually talented enough to be there, but had powerful parents who ensured their places in class. Since the lessons were over their pretty little heads, they would spend the entire lecture whining and gossiping in the back row.

  Adam spread his hands wide. “I can’t help it if you look ridiculous.”

  Lacey started for him, hurtling over the counter. I casually flicked my wrist, throwing another invisible wall up between the two of them. “Stop it! Both of you!”

  Adam chuckled, which only infuriated Lacey more. She bared her fangs at him and he mocked an expression of horror. “What would the judges say about that face? It’s not very pageant-y. Pageantesque?”

  “Adam!” I balled my hand tight to keep from slamming him with a stunning spell. If only to get him to shut up for five minutes.

  “Okay, okay.” He pocketed his hands. “I’m done. I swear.”

  I eyed him suspiciously. “I hope so. We have bigger problems to worry about than pageants.” I hadn’t planned on bringing those problems up, but if it would get them backed down a step from homicide, it would be worth it.

  “Like what?” Lacey asked, her tone incredulous, daring me to come up with something more important than her precious pageant.

  I sighed heavily. “There’s a paranormal investigator in town and he’s trying to lead a tour, here, at the Beechwood Manor.”

  “What?” Adam turned to face me, as though he’d forgotten Lacey existed altogether.

  “He can’t do that!” Lacey exclaimed.

  “I know.”

  “How did you find out?” Adam asked.

  “I caught him last night, sneaking around in the bushes under my window. It looked like he was taking pictures or video of the house. He came into Siren’s Song this morning and I told him off again, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to get to one of you, or—” I rolled my eyes upward to the ceiling, toward the bedroom of our fourth roommate.

  Lacey shuddered.

  “Gary?” Adam supplied.

  I nodded. “Although, I would love to meet someone brave enough to talk to him…”

  Adam smirked. “He’s not that bad, guys.”

  Lacey pursed her lips. “He has a bad aura.”

  Adam grinned and opened his mouth. I knew that whatever he was going to say would drag us away from helpful. I held up a hand, silently begging him to stop. He swallowed down his comment and turned his attention back to the real problem. “What’s this guy’s name?”

  “Nick Rivers. Apparently he’s a private investigator from Los Angeles. I don’t know what kind of case he’s working but he apparently moved up here recently.” I had shockingly few details about him, considering that our two meetings had provided plenty of time to gather information. Something that I was usually pretty good at. “Anyways, he told me that he runs paranormal investigations on the side and heard about us…well, more accurately the manor…and now he wants to lead a tour here. He even offered to cut me in on some of the profits.”

  “That’s disgusting,” Lacey scoffed, wrinkling her nose.

  Adam grinned ruefully over at her. “You sure about that, Lace? Sounds more like an evening buffet for your kind. You know, like one of those, casino style, all you can eat deals.”

  I squeezed my eyes closed. “Adam…not helping.”

  Lacey hissed and flashed her fangs at him. Boots growled and jumped up onto the counter between them. I darted forward and grabbed the brave—though sometimes ill-advisedly so—cat and tucked him under my arm. “Come on, guys. Let’s work together. If Posy hears about this, she’ll
bust a gasket and you all remember what happened last time…”

  Lacey and Adam both sobered at my reminder. Posy was the original owner of the Beechwood Manor along with her husband Earl. Earl was the businessman who had been largely responsible for raising Beechwood Harbor from a small fishing village into a thriving trade outpost. When Earl passed away, Posy went mad with grief and jumped off the cliffs. As a result, she’d become bonded to the manor and hadn’t been able to find the peace she needed to fully let go of this world and move into the next. Most of the time she coped with her circumstances and remained well-balanced—though usually borderline grumpy—but there were times when it all got away from her and she’d make life miserable for the rest of us, mostly because weird things would start happening around the house.

  A few months after I arrived in Beechwood Harbor, it was discovered that the manor had a termite problem. The idea of a colony of termites gnawing through the foundation of the home she loved so much sent her over the edge. Before the exterminator could arrive to properly handle the insects, she’d flown into a panic and inadvertently jammed all the doors closed. Adam had been out running the woods at the time and hadn’t been able to get back in the front door. Instead, he’d been caught, butt naked, banging on the front door of the manor, by Mrs. Miller and her Pomeranian, Snowbell, as they passed by on their evening walk. Lacey ended up trapped in her room and hadn’t been able to go out for the night. The entire thing was a fiasco. Eventually Posy calmed down and apologized, but she explained that it was out of her control. If things went wrong, especially things involving the manor, she panicked and it was impossible to tell how that panic would affect the house itself.

  If she found out that a horde of tourists were going to show up with ghost busting gear…

  I shuddered to think of the consequences.

  “Okay. So, what should we do?” Lacey asked. “Should we send Adam over to rough this investigator guy up?”

  “Thanks for volunteering me,” Adam muttered. “Ten minutes ago, I’m a fleabag, and now I’m your hero?”

  Lacey rolled her eyes. “Hero? Hardly…”