Fiddling with his fingers and shaking. “Oh, Nora.”
“Greg, what happened?”
He stuttered over his words.
I pulled his hand into mine. “You’ve taken the bandage off?”
“It’s gone,” he said. “Absolutely healed.”
It wasn’t a shock to me. I knew what was going to happen. I was just surprised he’d taken the bandage off so soon. In the darkening blue sky with occasional flashes of neon blue, I noticed Greg’s hands were pitted in dirt.
“Gardening without gloves?” I asked, raising a brow at him.
“Ye—ye—es.”
“A little silly,” I chuckled.
“I need to tell you something,” he said, looking around himself. He itched his forehead, spreading the dirt like grease across his face.
“Go on, what is it?”
He peered over the car in the direction of his house. “I—I—I.”
“Are you expecting someone?” I asked, peering over as well. “Did you see anyone leave the road? I noticed blood on the floor.”
“Blood?” he gasped, dropping to his knees.
“Well?”
“No, no, no.”
I grabbed both of his hands, keeping him still. I looked him in the eyes. “Have you taken anything?”
His head shook. “Nora. I need to tell you.”
“What?”
“They’re watching you.”
THIRTEEN
Ivory had left for the evening when I arrived back with Greg, gasping and panting for air. I left him to clean himself off in the bathroom while I made coffee, or something stronger. He was making no sense, frankly, nothing was making sense.
I gently nipped my arm. “Nope, it’s all real,” I said, boiling water on the kitchen hob. I needed to add to my list, buy a kettle, something I could plug in.
Greg sat in the living room, wrapped in a blanket.
“What happened to you?” I asked, closing the curtains.
He looked at his hands, twisting his fingers together and pulling at the fabric wristband. “Strange things have been happening around Witchwood,” he said.
“I’ve been told.”
“It’s not safe.”
I sat beside him, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. “I hope you’re not worried about me,” I said.
“Well—I—I—”
“Think about it,” I said, “let me get the coffees.”
He shook his head. “Tea for me.”
He was right. I couldn’t be giving him something to keep his nerves on edge. It would only make him worse, and I couldn’t be responsible for that. He wasn’t in the right state of mind for me to be feeding him nervousness. I made him a special tea, something my mother would give me when I was frustrated with magic. It allowed me to mellow and ease into practice. Perhaps it would make Greg able to string a sentence together without his jaw gnashing or his fingers digging into his legs—or worse, my sofa.
Perhaps it had something to do with what Maureen was seeing, I pondered. Seeing ghosts always had a weird effect on people. The first time I saw a ghost, I didn’t sleep for an entire week, but that was also partly to do with a morbid fascination and plenty of research.
Greg’s body continued to shiver, even with the blanket. Another sign, the shivers. I placed his cup of tea on the table.
“Put your feet up,” I said, tapping my foot against the ottoman. “I don’t want you losing your mind on me.” I took the seat beside him with my coffee nestled in my hands.
“I have no idea what’s going on anymore,” he said, reaching forward for the cup of tea. “I—I—I—” a hard thud of a gulp came, sucking back the tea.
“What did you see?” I asked.
“It’s not—” he sighed.
“Tell me.”
He shook his head.
“Did you see a ghost?” I asked openly, trying to pull his gaze back to me.
“No, no,” he scoffed. “I don’t think the people around here are comfortable with having you around.”
“Comfortable?”
He wiggled his fingers in the air at me. “You know, magic.”
“Did you—”
“It wasn’t me.”
It wasn’t a crime for people to know, or for people to talk about it. But it was hardly a reason for Greg to be a wreck. I rubbed his shoulder. “But what’s got you all pent up?”
“I think there’s some real evil on the street,” he said.
I’d hoped the so far ominous darkness looming over Crescent Road wouldn’t travel, but if it had got Greg stirred up the wrong way, I couldn’t be too sure what to think. “And you said they’re watching me?”
“The neighbours.”
“All of them?”
He nodded, pushing the cup to his mouth and pouring all the tea down in one.
“Well,” I said, standing. “I don’t know what they’re looking for. I’m retired.” Although I guess that was one weird thing about me, that and being a witch. I’m sure there was more to their suspicion. Perhaps they’d seen Ivory at night.
“Because you’re a witch,” he said.
I twitched the curtains, looking through the small space. The fire engine was still there, water gushing from a hose over the house. People stood almost outside my garden fence, watching the firemen, although the wearing paranoia from Greg told me they were also spying on me.
“I think you should stay here tonight,” I said.
“Really?” he asked with a large smile.
“Yes, I do have a spare bedroom, but there’s so much clutter in there right now. You can stay on the sofa, if that’s okay.”
“Thank you,” he said, pulling the blanket over his arms tighter. “You know who the ringleader is?”
Considering I had little idea about any group at all. “No.”
“She’s called Janet,” he said. “She’s a bit snooty, she’s the town’s biggest gossip.” He huffed. “You tell her one tiny thing and all of a sudden, it’s a huge palaver.”
I had no idea who anyone was. My stomach grumbled, even though I’d just fed it coffee. “Would you like some pasta carbonara?” I asked. “I haven’t eaten yet.”
He shook his head. “I think I just need to sleep.”
That was the best idea he’d had all evening. I left him in the living room on the sofa while I cooked my dinner and began writing a letter to the Witches Council, pleading my case as to why I would be a great match to teach the next generation of investigators. It was the least I could do, given my abundance of time.
FOURTEEN
When I woke the following morning, Greg was no longer snoring his little head off on the sofa. I checked the kitchen, the bathroom, and the spare bedroom. But there was nothing. I even checked Ivory’s sleepaway, but nothing. She squawked at me, and I immediately closed the door.
I sat on the sofa in a huff. With the way he was in last night, I didn’t want him outside in his fidgety state, especially with these neighbours.
Scribbled on the back of a piece of paper, in the same messy style Greg had sketched in yesterday was a note. I picked it up, turning it over in my hands as I read what it said.
15 Eden Road – Janet
“The town gossip,” I scoffed. I couldn’t imagine one woman being at fault for putting Greg in that state. Well, I had her address now. Only I could go and see what she was really like.
I’ve confronted worse. Demons. Actual monsters. A gossip was the least of my worries. While I whipped up some fluffy scrambled eggs, I thought about a time when I’d defeated a nasty little goblin stealing chicken from a local farmer. Those were the days when I could spin spells around and around without any wear on myself.
“Goblins,” I grumbled to myself.
No two were the same. From beneath the depths, some created by witches, others developed from an outcry of a child’s powerful imagination. Even more reason to keep my home warded, make sure none of those came close.
I’d made many enemi
es as an investigator. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone was looking for me. Although the chances were low, if not locked away, monsters were taken back to the underworld – where they belonged.
With a coffee in one hand and my plate of scrambled eggs on toast in the other, I walked back into the living room. Quickly tidying away the blanket from where Gregory had been sleeping and fluffing out the cushions.
I closed the living room door and turned the TV on. Opening the curtains before I sat back down and resting my feet on the ottoman.
While eating breakfast, I watched a morning TV show where the hosts demonstrated weird products they’d purchased from the internet.
“An alligator head?” a woman shrieked, hiding behind a cushion. “Get it away.”
“A taxidermied alligator head,” the man chuckled. “Seventeen people have purchased this,” he said, reading from cue cards. He adjusted his tie, chuckling a little more as his co-host continued to shy away.
It panned to the alligator head.
I groaned with a mouthful of egg. “Great.”
There was a reason I didn’t eat while watching the TV. I grabbed the remote, pressing the red button at the top to cut the TV back to black.
After eating, I showered and contemplated what to wear. Even after taking a nap, all the whirling emotions around yesterday knocked me out after dinner, and I smelled of smoke. The house on the other hand had repelled any smoke when I expelled it.
If I was going to confront a neighbour, I had to look the part. I had to look smart. I dressed in a blue flowery blouse and jeans, adding a nice red fitted blazer to the look. In the mirror, I turned in a full circle.
“You got this,” I said, tying my auburn red hair back with a claw clip.
In my wardrobe, I had all my clothes unpacked, including the many capes that wouldn’t be appropriate to wear, at least not in public for day wear. When I was a working, I didn’t care too much, but now I was living here, I had to be careful not to estrange myself from the community.
On my way out the door, I grabbed the slip of paper with Janet’s address on it. I guessed estranging myself and confronting people weren’t the same, although I knew they would end up causing the same thing to happen.
Down at 15 Eden Road was a beautiful garden, flush with red rose bushes in bloom and a sheen green grass. I had half a mind to check whether it was real. Through the gate, a little bell sounded – the element of surprise was gone.
I knocked on the front door, straightening my blazer.
“Hello?” she called out, her voice muffled behind the wood.
“I’d like to talk,” I said. “If you could—”
The door flung open and up jumped a giant dog.
“Down!” the woman scolded.
It licked my face as I tried my best to dodge. Paws pushed on my shoulders. The dog was tall. Once it was down seconds later, I knew I’d seen the dog before. It was the alsatian that had pulled me over yesterday.
“Janet?” I said.
“Yes,” she grumbled, rubbing her eyes. They were raw, the sockets around her eyes were red and pink. “What do you want?” she asked. “I was busy.”
“I’m Nora, well, Evanora,” I said with a smile, correcting myself.
She coughed a little. “And? What do you want?”
Puzzled. I looked around to see the dog staring up at me, panting. She was dressed in a heavy robe with her pulled completely back. I tried glancing behind her, but she continued to move around. It was dark. “I—I—”
“Oh, god. Another one?”
“Well,” I began, pulling my blouse straight. “You’ve been telling the neighbours nonsense about me.”
“Nonsense?” she laughed. “You’re the one into all that.” She wiggled her fingers before clutching her mouth, coughing.
“It’s not hurting anyone,” I said.
“We’d rather you didn’t bring it to Witchwood,” she said. “We’ve seen our fair share of people around these parts, and we don’t need you in the mix.”
I had no idea why, or what she was referring to. I’d owned the house on the road for years. I wasn’t new to the town. “What have you been telling people?”
“The truth,” she snapped. Her hand vigorously attacked at her eyes, rubbing them. “The least they deserve.”
“I have eyedrops,” I said. “I’m not an evil person. Let me help you.”
She scoffed, coughing once again. “Not a chance will I let you try and spell my mind.” She bared her teeth slightly, her lips curling back.
“You don’t look well,” I said, “please, let me help.” I knew if I could help, even with human means, just a simple eye solution or an allergy tablet, I knew she’d realise I was a nice person.
“No!”
The dog barked, retreating inside.
“Leave,” she said, with one final cough. Spit came from her mouth, speckling my blouse. There was blood in it.
“Ick!”
She slammed the door in my face.
FIFTEEN
The woman was crazy when I met her yesterday. Her and her dog. And they were just as crazy today, even more so. I rushed back home, mumbling angrily to myself. The woman made no lie that she was gossiping about me. I’d done nothing to her, and she was out here, character assassinating me.
“I could show her,” I grumbled, slamming the front door behind myself. I glanced at the blood on my blouse. “Ugh.” I liked this blouse as well, it was a perfect introduction to the spring season. Not to mention, I hated the sight of the stuff.
“Quiet,” Ivory’s muffled voice commanded.
I took a deep breath and centred myself. I was overreacting. It was one person. There was no way she could have the entire neighbourhood at her beck and call, it was impossible in fact. Greg liked me, as did Maureen – I think.
In the bathroom mirror, I was face-to-face with the blood on my blouse once again. “You’ll have to get used to the stuff if you want to be an investigator,” my mother’s voice rang through me, almost like she was watching from some blasted crystal ball in Scotland.
I changed out of my blouse for a t-shirt.
The blood was still fresh, and it was crucial more now than ever that I dealt with it before it stained. There was a lot magic could do but pulling blood from fabric was something I’d have to use exact science for.
Drenched in cold water, I rubbed at the dots of blood with a bar of soap, lathering it against the cloth. I used the vigour of anger Janet had incited. I drained the water from the sink, filling it again and leaving the blouse in to soak.
“Greg could’ve told me she was at least crazy,” I said to myself, grinning at the oddity. It was incredibly weird, perhaps this is what was so weird about living here. All the strangeness, culminating in one place. Probably why there were many evil omens flapping around, they were the ones driving people over the edge.
I’ll have to see if he’s okay – he’d left without saying a word. He left the note, and that led me to be slobbered over by a dog and almost attacked by a crazy person.
“I’m going to Greg’s house,” I called to Ivory, picking my blazer up to examine it for blood – relieved there was nothing there. It was a hard call, the blazer was already red.
On the way to Greg’s house up the road, I felt the entire neighbourhood of eyes on me, staring through their windows. It was probably because of how Janet had behaved, but it sent chills through me. I gently crossed my fingertips over my rings, filling myself with self-confidence.
I walked slowly, looking at the house that had been on fire last night. It was fixed. Completely untouched. Surely, that was impossible. I continued walking, I didn’t want the rest of the neighbours to think I had anything to do with it.
All the lights were out at Greg’s house, the curtains were drawn. Not a single sign of life.
Pushing open the gate, a man in the house beside him cleared his throat. I hadn’t noticed him until the noise he made. He was a larger man, seated in a rockin
g chair on the grass beside his front door.
“Not been in all night,” he said, grooming a hand through his long thick grey beard. He placed a pipe to his lips. “He’s been a little oddball lately.”
“Any idea where he might be?” I asked.
The man shrugged, puffing smoke from his pipe. “Not the pub, Greg’s been sober five years now.”
“Sober?”
He chuckled. “Yeah, yeah.” He waved a hand. “Unless he’s off the wagon.”
My jaw clenched at the thought. He had been acting weird. I walked up the path to the front door. I knocked once, hard. The man repeated in a gruff voice that Greg wasn’t here, but I knocked again.
“Where are you if you haven’t been home?” I asked in a mumble.
The door was locked. This time, I made sure it was unlocked, pressing the handle it opened wide. I glanced at the man in his rocking chair. He was unbothered, looking off somewhere else, but I wasn’t sure if anyone else could’ve been watching me.
“Greg?” I called down the hall. “Greg, are you in here? I’m worried now.”
Heading down the hallway. I glanced into the living room; empty. The bathroom; clean. The bedroom; desolate. I continued to the kitchen. Well, Greg knew how to keep a house clean, I could give him that.
My eyes darted toward a glimmer of light. On the ground were pieces of broken glass. Shattered. As I moved around it, the streaming light from the window glistened over them. This wasn’t good. I turned around and looked in the sink.
Blood. Large blobs around the metal, mixed with the droplets of water. It extended and spread, slowly headed down the plug. Had Greg cut himself again? If he’d been cut last night, surely I would’ve noticed, surely he would’ve said.
The blood looked fresh.
Crunch!
SIXTEEN
I turned on the spot, grabbing the granite counter as I spun. My fingers tensed up like five-legged spiders, clawing for life.
The neighbour stood in the doorway of the kitchen. His body fit the width of the hallway. He let out a grunt, puffing smoke through his nose. “Clean,” he said.
Witchwood Cozy Mystery Bundle Page 5
