Witchwood Cozy Mystery Bundle
Page 18
“You could grab a little plant pot and grow one straight from your kitchen window sill,” Greg added.
I batted my eyelashes at him. “With such a professional gardener on my doorstep, I’m sure I can skip the easy ones.”
Cassandra turned again, walking quickly ahead.
As we reached the house, I heard a squeak followed by a deep purr, almost as if thunder was crashing above us.
“Strange,” Greg remarked, looking around. “Thought it was going to be a nice day. I’ll have to bring the washing in off the line.”
A deeper roar erupted.
“What the—” I began, my forehead scrunched in thought.
“It’s the TV,” Cass said, pushing hard on the gate. “We should really go and turn it off, save the world, all that.” She rushed up the path.
Greg placed a hand to his face. “I’m always forgetting about the TV too,” he chuckled. “I think I’ll bring my washing in, to be on the safe side.” He waved before heading further up the street toward his house.
“Nora,” Cass said from the front door, ready to enter. “Quick!”
“What’s happened?” I asked. “I never leave the TV on.”
“Nora. Quick.”
I rushed after her.
FOUR
The thunderous purr came again once we were inside. Cassandra continued to rush, headed toward the kitchen. She zoomed out of the back door and into the garden. I followed on her heels, my mind processing what I’d heard, trying to piece together what was happening with the family to warrant two officers and a subsequent visit by an ambulance.
“Stop it!” Cassandra shouted.
I stood at the doorway, glancing out over the garden I saw a huge white leopard snarling up at Ivory. She flapped her wings at it, blowing large gusts of air. Stepping back in shock, I couldn’t believe my eyes, and I’d seen a lot in all my years. “What?”
“Jinx,” Cassandra continued. “Turn back now.”
My hand clung to a door handle. “Jinx?” I questioned.
Cassandra sighed, pressing a hand to the animal’s forehead. “I mean it, Jinx,” she said, glancing to me. “Sorry, Nora.”
“It’s fine,” I replied.
Ivory hurled a gust of wind at Jinx, battering her backwards. “Told you cats were bad news,” she snapped.
“Ivory,” I grumbled. “You’re supposed to be in bed.”
Jinx transformed, shrinking back into the cat I knew her as.
Finally, I stepped outside, comfortable I wasn’t going to be attacked. “What happened?”
“Well, Jinx has the ability to tran—”
“No, no, why are you awake?” I directed my body at Ivory as she settled on the grass.
“That screech.” Referring to the woman from Mercy Avenue. “And then that feral being scratching at the shed.”
“Jinx?” Cass said. “Is this true?”
“Maybe,” she replied, slipping between Cassandra’s legs.
Approaching Ivory, I let Cassandra deal with Jinx as she wrestled her into her arms. I knew Ivory well enough to know she was territorial, and even though Jinx turned into a killing machine, Ivory’s sonic scream could deafen anyone. A definite advantage whenever I found myself in a sticky situation.
“Listen,” I said to her. “We need to all get along, and if we can’t, then none of this is going to work, and I know you desperately want a case to work. This is the next best thing, we’re helping out a trainee.”
She rolled her neck, almost to represent the rolling of her eyes. “It’s been weeks, this town is boring,” she said. “Well, other than the vampires, and the lizard people.”
“Maybe,” I said, squinting in thought. A smile touched my lips. “Maybe you should see if you can find a case. Anything you want to look into, anything that doesn’t feel right. I want to know.”
She snapped her beak in excitement. “I can do that.”
And I knew she did it excellently. “Good,” I said. “Now, go rest.”
“Aren’t you going to tell me about the woman who screamed?”
I smiled, forgetting where I was and who I was speaking to. “Sure.” I didn’t know where to begin. “It was down the road, I wasn’t able to get much. The police were there, I tried to listen in but became a little distracted, so I didn’t catch everything they were saying.”
Ivory scoffed. “Bet she was the distraction.”
Well, she was right, but I wasn’t going to tell her. “No, no, no,” I lied. “There were many people there. I think the woman had a mental break about something, not quite sure what, but it wasn’t pretty.”
Perhaps what I was feeling came directly from the mother. If she was projecting and I was an open receiver, it was plausible.
“You should get some rest,” I reiterated. “Especially if you’re going to hunt for a case tonight.”
It was one way of finding a case. That, or wait for the Council to give one to Cassandra.
Once I was back inside the kitchen, I found Cassandra boiling the teakettle on the stove. I closed the door and sighed against the counter.
“Sorry about that, Nora.”
“Oh, it’s fine.”
“Tea?”
I plucked a hand to my eye level, admiring the milestones in my career, represented as augmented rings.
“Nora? Do you want some tea?”
“Oh, yes. Always,” I said with a wide grin. The more time I had alone from daily adventure, the more I found myself in thought. The old times were often the good times.
Cassandra combed her fingers over the three gemstones she’d picked out. “I can’t get a read on this one,” she said. “It fascinates me.”
Pulling my glasses away, I rubbed at my eyes. “Let me see,” I said, moving away from the counter. “Which one?” I asked, placing the glasses on my face.
She presented a small blue chunk from the palm of her hand. “This one.”
“Kyanite,” I said. Although I only had a small bit, I knew the material often ran in large blocks. It looked like driftwood with a coat of blue paint, already peeling away from weather and erosion. There were many types. The type I had was in its natural form, unpolished and untouched. “It’s a material with no positive or negative energies,” I said. “A connector or amplifier. It doesn’t hold energy or give energy; probably why you can’t get a read on it.”
“What do you use it for then?” she asked.
“Many things,” I replied. “Meditation. Great for clearing excess mental baggage. We all have it. You should give it a go.”
“Meditation is something I’ve struggled with,” she said. “I do need a good clean.”
“There are that also metaphysical applications,” I added. “Contacting the dead, telepathy, opening all number of psychic clair senses.” That led me to another question, and it was a wonder I hadn’t already asked it. “Do you have any gifts, like that?”
She tilted her head slightly as she shrugged. “Not that I know.”
“Would you like one?” Through her clenched teeth, I wasn’t sure if it was good or bad. “Blessings and curses,” I chuckled.
“My mother was clairvoyant for a number of years. She often said, ‘gifts come and go’.”
“Well then,” I began as the teakettle whistled with steam. “You can certainly open up temporary pathways with the kyanite.”
She smiled. “I have always wondered what it would feel like to see the future.”
I glanced at another gem in her collection. “The yellow apatite is excellent for that.”
Biting into her bottom lip with excitement, I saw this was the job for me. Seeing the pure happiness on someone’s face when teaching them about all the gifts they had at their fingertips; it was often something young witches weren’t taught by their parents.
FIVE
Stewing over my thoughts in the garden, sat on a chair as a breeze rolled through the trees at the far end. I noted how well of a job Greg had done cleaning the garden and mapping out s
pace for the wooden decking.
I sipped my fruity blackberry tea. “Did someone die?” I asked aloud.
Something had happened to the family on Mercy Avenue, and I needed to know if it was worth me helping them out. The smell of food being prepared wafted from the kitchen window. Cassandra was making dinner; a shepherd’s pie.
“Is she mentally ill?” I quizzed.
I was doubtful. Anything like those would’ve had more press, perhaps more police and an ambulance. I’d seen situations where someone had died and how the emergency services would react. They would cord the area off, have a team investigate, and make sure there was nobody around the house.
The back door swung open. Cassandra popped her head out to see me. “Dinner’s ready.”
“Oo.” I rubbed my stomach over my cardigan. “I’m starving.”
Carrying the chair back inside, I noticed Cass had already placed two plates of food on the table. There was minced meat in onion gravy, mashed potatoes, peas, carrots, and two large Yorkshire puddings on the side.
“What do you think?” she asked.
“Wow,” I said, frankly stunned by the effort she’d put in. “Who taught you to cook?”
She shrugged. “I didn’t know what I wanted to do for the longest time, so I learnt to cook from the chefs in the family house. It’s how I got the job at the Kingsway’s so easy.”
I took my seat at the table as she collected a small porcelain pot filled with gravy, placing it between the two plates. “A little extra for pouring.”
As soon as Cassandra was seated, I tucked into the food, piling mashed potatoes, minced meat, gravy, and a small helping of veggies on a fork with my knife. It was divine. I’d have to get her to cook more often if this is what she was producing.
“Save yourself room,” she said. “There’s dessert.”
Of course, the human body had two stomachs, one for the main meal, and a second smaller stomach for desserts and snacks. It was human anatomy 101 – or so I told myself when I went in for seconds sometimes.
Pacing myself, I wondered about other questions I’d yet to ask her.
“So—” we both began at the same time.
“Oh, go ahead.” I rolled a hand, offering her space to speak.
“No, no, what were you going to say?” she asked.
I shrugged the weight of my body from side-to-side. “I wanted to know if you had any fears,” I said. “I have a fear of blood, I know, an investigator who doesn’t like blood.”
She chuckled. “Spiders.” Her eyes shut immediately. “I carry peppermint oil with me everywhere I go, and everywhere I stay.”
“Have you—”
“—come across the spiders in the room?” she asked with a shudder, finishing my question off. “Yes. One in each corner.”
I was supposed to clear those out. Given the condition of the room, I was surprised there weren’t more, but once everything was cleared out, they had no more boxes to hide inside. I probably displaced many clusters. “Luckily there weren’t more.”
“So, I have a question,” she said. “The first job I had, the Council gave me it directly. How do they get cases to you?”
“Well, sometimes you do your own thing,” I said, “but sometimes they send you a letter with information, especially if they know you’re close to a report or sighting—or whatever it is. You can also request specific places.”
She nodded along. “It was never explained to me.”
“It never is,” I replied. “You learn as you go, as you do with everything in life.”
“Have they sent anything yet about a case?”
I shook my head, wiping my mouth on a napkin. “When I know, you’ll know.”
Her drive reminded me of mine when I was starting out. I wanted the rush solving mysteries, fighting crimes, and chasing evil gave me, but everything came in its own time and it couldn’t be rushed, even if you tried.
After dinner, we settled into the living room with some tea. Relaxing our stomachs before filling them with more food. I took a sneak peek into the refrigerator to see strawberry cheesecake set in a circular dish. It surprised me, I didn’t know I had all the ingredients to make one.
Cassandra flicked through channels on the TV while I rested my feet on the ottoman and swilled a spoon around in my teacup, watching the liquid spin mindlessly.
“Nora, Nora,” she said. “Look.”
A familiar scene appeared on the television. The road of Mercy Avenue pictured in all its glory. A male reporter stood with a microphone close to his lips.
“Turn it up,” I said.
She fiddled with the remote for a moment, trying to adjust the volume.
The man’s voice grew louder. “—no sign of forced entry.”
The screen cut to the news presenters in the studio, one shuffling paper while the other nodded to what the man had been saying.
“What else have the police been able to say?” the presenter asked.
It cut back to the man. “Well, Carol, they’re unsure what to make of it. The boy’s favourite teddy bear had been taken. Given that there’s been no forced entry, there’s some suspect it could be premeditated, or the boy simply ran away.”
“It’s their son,” Cass said.
The emotions from earlier came rushing back. The thundering outpour of both shock and frustration. My eyes watched the screen, unwavering from the information.
“There we have it,” the news presenter said. “Benjamin Hughes, a 9-year-old boy in Witchwood, Kent, has been missing since this morning. Sources say it’s too soon to tell, however, there are currently officers walking through Witchwood’s vast woodland, but there is no trail.”
The man who’d been sorting paper cleared his throat. “There’s not a single trace to say the boy has been there at all, but the officers are doing everything in their power to find him. If anyone has any information, please contact the local authorities.”
Cass spoke again, I know because I watched her lips moving.
“Oh, that poor boy,” I finally said, clenching my stomach. “I may need an early night.”
“Are you feeling okay?” she asked.
“I think everything today has got to me,” I said. “The thought of children going missing, it’s not worth thinking it could happen. I don’t even have children, but I can only imagine the torture it causes.”
Cassandra reached out across the sofa and touched my arm. “Is there anything we can do?”
“I can ask Ivory to look through the woods tonight,” I said. “Perhaps a better hand than the police spending their entire night scouring it.”
And I did ask her before heading to bed. Ivory usually spent most of her nights in the woodland, scouting for small rodents. She did say she wanted a case, and this was definitely something for her, even if it wasn’t hunting a crazed demonic force.
SIX
The next morning, I woke to a gentle patter at my bedroom door. I turned over in my bed, hoping it was nothing more than a draught of air running through the house. The patter came once again, this time, I peeked slightly to see light streaming in through my closed bedroom curtains.
“Nora? Are you awake?” Cassandra’s soft voice spoke.
A grumble left my throat. “Huh? Yes, yes.”
The door opened. Cass stood with a large smile on her face. “Morning,” she said, adjusting a thick headband around her forehead. She appeared quite out of focus, somewhat in a white haze of fluffy clothes. Her arms dropped to her waist. “Want a coffee?” She looked like she was ready for an afternoon in a fancy spa.
“What time is it?” I asked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
“Just after nine.”
That was late for me, or early if I was working a night shift. “Oh, goodness,” I grumbled, turning in my bed to see the blurry clock on the nightstand. “Yes. I will.”
“I’ve got some sausages and bacon under the grill.”
Divine. I was suddenly starving. “What’s the celebra
tion?” I wondered with a slight chuckle, reaching out for my glasses.
“Oh, nothing,” she replied. “You seemed a little down. I figured I’d treat us to a real hearty breakfast.”
Definitely the way forward. “Perfect,” I said. “I’ll be ready in a sec.”
Cassandra closed my bedroom door and left. I wondered if I’d been low yesterday, I felt off because of what happened, but that was nothing more than a case of being surrounded by several people and a distraught mother.
My mind escaped to think of Ivory and her night, wondering whether or not she’d found anything about the boy, or the police investigation—I shouldn’t even be working the case; it’s for the police. I shook the thought, if she had found anything, she’d have woken me within the instant.
In the kitchen, Cassandra had prepared two plates at the table with a small rack of toast in the centre. On the stove, the tea kettle whistled, and two pots bubbled.
“Good news,” she said with a nod. “The milkman came. No more black coffee, and I’ve got some scrambled egg on the go.”
Perhaps I needed it more than I thought. I’d never pegged myself for a witch who felt so intensely, in fact, it was an asset. I wasn’t receptive to others’ feelings in any clairsentient way, so that couldn’t have affected me. “All smells delicious.”
She waved me into a seat. “One sugar or two?”
“One,” I replied, sticking my forefinger in the air.
It had been almost a week since I’d had a nice milky coffee in the morning. I knew a lot of people preferred their coffee dark and strong, the type to put a kick in your step and a jolt in your veins. I needed a mellow start, like a cushioned hug.
“What’s all this for?” I asked as approached the table holding a hot tray in a gloved hand.
“Like I said, just a treat.” She plated rashers of bacon and sausages. “Beans and scrambled egg?”
“Of course,” I replied. It wasn’t quite a full English, but it had all the basic components; meats, beans, toast, and a helping of egg.
Before we could begin tucking into the food, a knock came at the front door. We both stared at each other. Neither of us expected any guests.