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

by Danielle Garrett

  “Is he hulking, surly, and reeks like boiled cabbage?”

  “Um, yes on the first two. I don’t know about the smell…” My lips curled back just thinking about getting that close to him.

  Honeysuckle stroked Weeble’s head as the dog sat still, staring at me. “Sounds like a real problem, dear.”

  “Yes…” I debated whether or not to bring up the murder investigation. It would likely only rile Honeysuckle up. She tended to get off track when questions weren’t direct and to the point. She was more like a talking dictionary. I winced at the unflattering comparison. After all, she was still my family.

  “You look good, dear.” Honeysuckle’s eyes went bright. “Tell me, have you met a nice young wizard yet?”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “You stop that right now, Holly Boldt!”

  Now she remembers my name.

  I cringed. “Sorry, great-grandmother Honeysuckle. But no, I’m not looking for a wizard right now.”

  “Then what are you doing?”

  I sighed, not supposing she would care much for the truth. Working at a coffee shop in a human community, dodging flirtatious shifters, and getting tangled up in a murder investigation weren’t the kinds of dreams she likely held for me.

  As the guardian of the Larkspur, I was supposed to be off taking the witching world by storm. I should be conquering new realms, inventing ways to bring further peace between supernaturals, and finding the answers to all of the mysterious unknowns of life.

  Instead, I was banished from the havens, on a short list of troublemakers with the SPA, and worrying that the gargoyle in the room above mine might come crashing down and rip me into tiny, bite-sized pieces.

  Seeing as how I was currently the only person able to communicate with Honeysuckle—at least, as far as I knew—I decided to fudge the truth a little.

  “I’m working with SPA on a new, top secret project. That’s why I really need to know about gargoyles.”

  Okay, so I fudged the truth a lot.

  She’d probably forget it within the hour anyways.

  “Ooh! That sounds most exciting!” Honeysuckle clapped her hands and Weeble barked his approval. “I do hope that you’re not interacting directly with those beasts though, Holly. They’re nasty, vile creatures.”

  I had a feeling.

  “They are blood-thirsty savages, not fit for the supernatural or human world. If you ask me, they should have all been sent to the Otherworld long ago.” Honeysuckle shuddered.

  “What is it that they do?”

  “Make trouble,” she replied, giving me a definitive nod.

  Helpful.

  I tried not to sigh. “Do they kill witches and wizards?” That was the most pressing question.

  “If they think it will serve them. Sure.” She shrugged, as though I’d asked if they liked pizza with thin crust.

  I shuddered and dared another peek up at the ceiling. The light fixture had stopped shaking and I realized the stomping had as well. I’d gotten so wrapped up in my conversation with Honeysuckle that I hadn’t noticed when it stopped.

  “What about humans?”

  Honeysuckle gave me a dark look. “They have a long and violent history with all species, Holly. They prey on humans because they see them as weak and defenseless. They make a sport of hunting them.”

  “Hunting them?” I grimaced and bundled the covers on my bed up around me, as though a cocoon of blankets could keep me from feeling the fear that crept over me at Honeysuckle’s dark proclamation.

  She nodded. “Yes. As I said, Holly, stay away from them. I can only hope the SPA is asking your assistance in ridding the world of them altogether.”

  The image started to fade and my heart squeezed. There was only so much time to talk. The magic couldn’t sustain long conversations.

  Honeysuckle’s expression shifted into a smile. “It looks like it’s time for me to go, dear. I do hope you take my advice.”

  “I will, Great-grandmother. I’ll stay clear of any gargoyles.”

  There was no sense in worrying her.

  Her smile widened. “I meant about finding a nice, young wizard.”

  She winked and then the image flickered out entirely, leaving behind nothing but murky shadows and the echo of her parting words.

  I snorted as I closed the locket and slipped it back over my head. “Right, that’s just what I need. More complications in my life.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  SIREN’S SONG WAS set to reopen in a little over an hour. So far, the five of us had worked to get things cleaned and set up, while Phillip holed away in the back office and made phone calls. The floors were mopped and polished to a waxy sheen. All of the tables were set up and loaded with bountiful floral arrangements that had been dropped off by Mr. and Mrs. Carson, who ran the florist shop in town. I found it odd that Phillip—a shrewd businessman—had spent so much money on flowers, but I supposed it was his way of bringing some beauty in to lighten the mood that could possibly dip low with the freshness of the murder still on everyone’s mind.

  I was in the back room with Cassie, working on checking in a large delivery of pastries and baked goods from a bakery and cake shop in the next town over from Beechwood Harbor. The smell of the array of treats was mouthwatering and I was secretly hoping to find something that had come in damaged just so that Cassie and I could split it.

  A bell sounded from the front and Cassie peeked her head out to see who had come in. “Oh no…”

  I set my clipboard on the work bench and went to join her at the curved archway. I poked my head out and sighed. “Incoming.”

  Gretta was striding through the shop, a tight smile across her face as she took in the flowers and the new light fixture that Phillip had installed with Frankie and Paisley’s help earlier that morning. She locked eyes with Cassie and me before we could scramble out of her way. “Ladies, you can point me in the right direction. I heard you’re under new management.”

  That was an odd way of putting it.

  Cassie nodded. “That’s right. Set to reopen in just over an hour for the afternoon rush.”

  “Mmhmm. Well the flowers are a nice touch.” She brushed off the front of her brown apron and specks of potting soil fell to the freshly polished floor. She didn’t seem to notice. “Before you open, I would like to speak to the new owner. I need to go over the rules and regulations for being a part of the Old Town Harbor Shoppes.”

  Cassie smiled sweetly. “Of course, Gretta. Let me just tell Phillip you’re here.”

  I snorted. A cage match between Gretta and Phillip would be a popcorn-worthy affair.

  Gretta shot me a dirty look and then gave Cassie a brief nod. “I’ll be waiting out front. It’s more of a walking tour.”

  I bit back a laugh. Gretta strutted off through the shop, and a second later, the bell rang on the front door. Cassie and I giggled together for a moment before she slapped on a straight face and went to knock on the door to the office. I returned my attention to counting muffins. Frankie and Paisley came in through the side door. “I still think it’s weird,” Paisley whispered.

  “I know, but there’s nothing we can do about it.”

  “What are you guys talking about?” I asked, looking up from my count.

  Frankie looked from Paisley and then back to me. “It just feels…odd. You know, the flowers, the happy little signs all over town.” He held up one of the bright fliers they’d been in charge of distributing. “It’s like this is supposed to be a celebration.”

  Paisley nodded. “I get that the show must go on, but we’re one confetti toss away from this being a party.”

  “I mean the police tape just came down,” Frankie added, his expression dark.

  “It did?” I’d been stuck inside all day.

  “Yeah. Chief Lincoln was out earlier. Phillip went out and they exchanged words. Next thing I know, Chief took it down. He didn’t seem very happy about it.”

  I nodded, but my thoughts were amblin
g away. Phillip had gotten snippy with Chief Lincoln? And won? What was going on around here?

  Phillip’s office door opened, and Cassie came out with Phillip on her heels. From the look on his face, he was ready to do battle again. Cassie must have warned him what was coming.

  Cassie led him outside and returned a minute later, unable to stop smiling. “This is gonna be good.”

  We all crowded around the front, fluffing floral arrangements, sweeping already immaculate floors, or wiping clean counters. Whatever we could do to get the best seats for the show unfolding on the front walk. Gretta waved her arms frantically, gesticulating at a furious pace as she took Phillip on a tour of the sidewalk in between the two shops.

  “What do you think she’s telling him now?” I asked.

  Cassie gave me a sideways grin. “Probably explaining the proper placement of the public trash cans.”

  Paisley snorted a laugh. “It’s like Mr. Clean and the teapot from Beauty and the Beast.”

  I cracked up. “That’s giving Gretta a lot of credit. Wasn’t the teapot nice? Friendly?”

  Cassie laughed along with me. “You’re right. That doesn’t quite fit.”

  Frankie pointed out the window. “Oh! Looks like she might have moved on to appropriate sayings for welcome mats.” We watched as Gretta’s arm swung down to draw Phillips attention to the ground.

  Paisley wiped away the tears from the corners of her eyes, her face beet red from laughing so hard. “As if anything other than Welcome is ever appropriate.”

  “And don’t get me started on the ones with cartoon dogs and cats on them,” Cassie said, mock horror infused in her tone.

  “I’m shocked he isn’t taking notes,” I added, giggling uncontrollably with Cassie. “Someone should go take him a notepad.”

  We all doubled over but it was cut short when Phillip barked something inaudible at the determined woman and made his way back to the front doors of the coffee shop. We all sprang back into action.

  The bell sounded as Phillip came back inside, looking a little dazed. “Leathery old bird,” he mumbled under his breath, stalking back through the shop to his office.

  “Apparently, that went well,” I deadpanned. We all snickered together and then went back to work.

  Hours after the re-opening, Siren’s Song was still full to the point where even the back patio was standing room only. Not that anyone seemed to mind. As a small town, Siren’s Song was the only coffee shop and its closure, even though it had only lasted a few days, had affected a lot of people who considered a daily stop as an important part of their life’s rhythm. Still, I was surprised to see how big the turnout was. Didn’t anyone have jobs?

  I was also surprised that Phillip was missing from his big moment. After all of the time he spent overseeing every detail of the prep for the reopening, he was strangely absent from the event itself. Before I could go looking for any sign of him, a person I hadn’t expected to see at the event waltzed through the doors, and strode right up to the counter where I was manning the espresso machine.

  I reached up and absently smoothed my hands over my hair. “Adam? What are you doing here?”

  He smiled at me. “Thought I’d come see how the re-opening was going.” He paused to scan the busy room. “From the looks of it, very well.”

  I adjusted my headband the second before his eyes returned to mine. “Yeah, it’s a bit of a madhouse. You want me to make you something? Decaf of course.”

  Adam laughed. Caffeine had strange effects on shifters. According to Adam, some shifters like the way it makes them feel, but he was not in that camp. His eyes dropped to what was left of the pastries in the front case and I smirked. “I should have known.”

  “I’m all about the snacks,” he said. “Let me get one of those frosted things.”

  “A cinnamon roll?” I prompted.

  “Sure. Actually, two. I mostly just want the frosting part.”

  I laughed and grabbed for a waxy pastry bag and a set of bamboo tongs to pick up the rolls. “I swear, you’d eat a car tire if it was coated in frosting.”

  “Hardy har.”

  I handed him the bag. He reached for his wallet but I waved him off. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll pick it up. You got dinner and dessert the other night,” I said, shifting my weight back into my heels.

  Adam grinned at me. “That’s because that was a date, gorgeous.”

  My cheeks warmed. I wasn’t sure how I felt about dating Adam. It went against all my rules but somehow it was happening anyways. I was about to argue, that it wasn’t really a date, but dropped it. Which was a good decision, as two seconds later, Nick came through the front door.

  Adam watched my face fall. “Holly, come on, you know I’m just—”

  “No, no. It’s not that,” I hissed.

  He whipped around and saw Nick headed straight toward us. “Who is that?” he asked out of the corner of his mouth.

  Nick took his place in line behind Adam and I grit my teeth. “Hello, Nick,” I said, leaning around Adam to flash him a polite smile. “This is Adam. He lives at the manor too.”

  Nick approached the counter and stood to the left of Adam. He lifted a brow at me. “Adam? Wasn’t that the name of that stray dog?”

  Adam’s jaw flexed as he turned to face Nick. Nick offered his hand, but Adam ignored it. “So, you’re the one rummaging through the bushes in the middle of the night?”

  Nick paled. Adam had a good couple of inches and probably twenty pounds of muscle on him. Clearly not an equal opponent, especially when Adam was radiating sheer hostility. “My apologies. Adam, was it? As I explained to your lovely roommate here, I was in the wrong, and have no intention of snooping around in the future. All good?” He offered his hand again. A gentleman’s apology.

  Adam gave him another hard glare but then took his hand. “I hope you’re being straight with her. For your own good.”

  Nick gave a brisk nod. They dropped their handshake and he took a step back. He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. A pang of guilt hit my stomach, but I wasn’t ready to call off Adam just yet. Nick needed to know that he was on a dangerous path if he kept poking around the manor.

  “You’re really a ghost hunter?” Adam folded his arms and sized Nick up. “Aren’t you a little old to be chasing a bunch of fairy tale stories?”

  Nick sighed. “You know, I obviously made a mistake in coming here. Holly, I had some information to share with you, but I’ll come back some other time.” He retrieved an envelope from the inside of his jacket, holding it up for a moment, before he took a step toward the door. My eyes locked onto the envelope as my nerves flared with panic. Information! That was what I needed, even more than peace and quiet at home.

  I lunged forward. “Nick, wait!”

  He paused and glanced from Adam to me.

  “What kind of information?” I asked, shooting Adam a pleading sideway glance.

  Adam set his jaw. “I was just leaving anyways. Holly, I’ll see you at home.”

  I sighed. Mental note to self, remind Adam that I’m not a tree he can mark up with his scent.

  Adam grunted at Nick and then made his way through the crowd and back outside. I returned my gaze to Nick who still appeared ruffled over the entire confrontation. Not that I could blame him. Adam could be quite intimidating when he wanted to be.

  “I’m sorry about him,” I said, sheepishly.

  Nick eyed me for a long moment, his expression like he was trying to work out a puzzle, but it faded with the blink of an eye. “It’s fine.”

  I smiled softly. “Listen, Nick, I should also say that I’m sorry for the way I stormed out the other night.”

  He held up a hand. “No, don’t worry about it. We obviously got off on the wrong foot. But that’s all behind us now. I’m bowing out of our deal. I’ll steer clear of the manor.” He gave a small smile. “The way I see it, we both live in a very small town, there’s no sense in letting an awkward first impression create bad bloo
d. Friends?”

  I nodded. “Friends.”

  My fingers were itching to get my hands on whatever was in the envelope in his hands. Nick glanced around the room behind him. No one was paying much attention to us. A few of the gossip queens glanced over, but then quickly returned to their conversation. Some of which was undoubtedly about me. And Adam. And Nick. I winced at the way that could all be spun.

  “Don’t open it now.” He slid the envelope over the counter and I gathered it into my apron pocket to look at later.

  I nodded but couldn’t resist running my finger along the seam. “What’s the gist?”

  Nick swiveled a look around me. “Phillip Tanner. The guy on the lawsuit paperwork.”

  My heart slammed against my ribcage. “You mean my new boss?”

  Nick’s eyes went wide. “What?” he spat.

  I leaned in close. “He owns this place.”

  He blinked a few times, slowly, as though he couldn’t fully process what I’d said. “Any chance you can take a break?”

  I cut a glance to Cassie who was on her scheduled break. She was occupying a corner table, flipping through her phone, her face grim. I returned my eyes to Nick. “Not yet. I have to wait for Cassie. But I was going to take out the trash…” I jerked my head toward the direction of the alley.

  “Got it. Can I get a large mocha before you do that?” He asked, flashing a grin.

  “Nick,” I groaned.

  “You’re fast. I’ve witnessed it first-hand. Remember the first time I came in? Then again, that probably had more to do with the fact that you wanted me out of here as soon as humanly possible.”

  “I plead the fifth,” I replied, with a soft laugh. “But you’ve made your point. Large mocha, coming right up.”

  When Nick had his mocha in hand, he left the shop. I waited a beat and then disappeared into the back and started gathering the trash before anyone else came up to the counter for a refill. “Paisley, I’m taking this out,” I called to the blonde who was standing in the middle of the back room. She was hunched over, working to pull the plastic stopper out of a large jug of mocha mix.