The Violet Countercharm: A Paranormal Cozy Mystery (Hattie Jenkins & The Infiniti Chronicles Book 2)

by Pearl Goodfellow

  “Nevermind whadda I got, what are you doing, boss-lady? Why aren’t you telling David what’s going on?” Shade’s eyes were comically wide.

  “I don’t know! “I threw my arms up in an exhasperated confession that I had no idea what I was doing. The truth was, now I was up to the wire, I was scared to death of losing my best friend, over a pretty overwhelming accusation of his girlfriend being a killer. “Look, Shade, I’ll deal with it now. Just catching my breath, now give me what you’ve got.” I dragged in some deep breaths while Shade shared what he knew.

  “Well, while she went to ‘use the phone’,” Shade began, giving some rather comical furry-pawed air quotes. “I saw Amber pluck one of the violet blooms from the bouquet on the table and squeeze a few drops of its essence into David’s champagne flute. And, then she muttered the words: ‘Amame’.” Shade’s expression was grave.

  “I’m a me?”

  “Amame. It’s a love spell. And, lucky for you, my area of expertise. The honey isn’t just putting moves on your honey. She's not trying to kill the Chief; she’s working the love mojo on him. The violet in the center of the table? Remember what Verdantia said about violets making the best love potions?"

  What was the one better way than killing the person you wanted out of the way? Controling them.

  And, man, oh man, would people do stupid things for love. If Amber could seduce David, make him willing to do whatever it took to make her happy, they could actually manipulate control of the entire GIPPD.

  As awful as it was starting to sound, I felt like I was only seeing part of the dastardly plan.

  “I have to break the spell, Shade. Before it’s too late.”

  “It may already be too late, boss-lady. Remember what Onyx said? ‘Tempus fugit’?”

  “Yeah. So?”

  “It may just be time to say ‘tempus fuggedaboutit.' If Amber has the Fae on her side? We may not stand a chance.”

  Not accepting my cat’s doom filled plea, I pushed past Shade and opened the door…where I ran straight into Amber.

  18

  Hex Support

  “The cat’s right, Hattie. It is too late. David’s mine. I’ve been working that love spell on him for weeks now. It’s so deep in his system, there’s nothing that can purge it. Unless you happen to have an alicorn lying about. And they’re hard to come by these days, what with all the poaching, don’t ya know.”

  I whipped Grammy Chimera’s wand from my cloak, unsure of just what I intended to do with it. (I confess, I did briefly think of sliding it into one of her flaring nostrils.) Amber’s eyes grew wide and the charm of her necklace pulsed even brighter.

  “Where did you get that? That’s Uirgae Malum. That belongs to the Fae.” She made a sudden lunge for the wand.

  “Protego!” The charm for “protect” exploded from my mouth and a ball of light burst from the end of Uirgae Malum. The sphere of power hit Amber square in the gut and sent her catapulting backward. I used the opportunity to run. I ran straight into David’s chest.

  “Hattie? What’s going on? Where’s Amber?”

  “David! David! It’s all a trick. None of it’s real. She’s been lying the whole time!”

  “Don’t listen to her, David!” Amber’s voice screeched as she came down the hall.

  “Amber killed Spithilda, David. She made her a poke sallet. Just like that one. Only, the one she prepared for her aunt, she prepared purposefully incorrectly, knowing that it would kill Spithilda.”

  David shook his head. Hard. He was trying to clear through the clouds of Amber’s love potion.

  “I mean it, David. She’s a lunatic. Are you going to believe her over your true love? Me? She’s a cat lady for crying out loud. She’s just jealous of what we have, so she’s trying to weasel her way back onto the case so she can get close to you.” Amber gripped her necklace, hard.

  David’s eyes turned to that stormy grey once again. “Didn’t…I…tell…you…to stay off the case?!?” David pulled out his own wand, something I hadn’t seen him carry in decades. Then he raised it. Right…at…me.

  “Implexa!” he cried. Amber’s braided rug unraveled at the speed of light and twisted around Amber’s body until she was completely bound, head to foot. Before I could wrap my brain around what just happened, Remulus bounded into the room and toppled Amber to the ground. His huge, hairy form sat flat on Amber’s chest, slobbering drool all over her.

  She writhed under him, but Remy wouldn’t budge.

  “Get this oaf off of me!” she cried.

  Remy leaned his shaggy head close into her face and his chest rumbled with a low, threatening growl.

  “Told you he was our only witness.” It was David’s voice. David’s very normal, not-mad-at-Hattie voice.

  I whirled. David stood there, grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

  “What? How? Who?” I blurted.

  “What happened is Amber’s spell was broken. How? There might have been a splash of Goldenseal in my champagne. Goldenseal the foe of potion and poison. Who? Well, you can thank Gloom for that.”

  He gestured to my only girl kitty, who was sitting proudly next to an empty champagne flute.

  “Gloom? You did this?”

  “What?” she shrugged. “I was out walking Remulus and the big galoot decided to take off running. I might have just let him go, but he’s growing on me. He doesn’t mind if I complain a little every now and then.” Gloom gave her canine friend a tender head pat.

  I raised an eyebrow.

  “Anyways, I chase after him, and he starts running through these fields. I have sticker burrs where no lady cat should have sticker burrs. Pretty soon, I realized we were in Spithilda’s Goldenseal patch. Remy had run nearly all the way home. The crazy dog just kept bounding around this field. I kept trying to lead him home, but he wouldn’t leave. Just jumping, leaping and barking, you know the uncouth way dogs do? With that complete lack of self control they have? So, I think I finally understood what he was trying to tell me. I don’t speak dog — it’s too primitive — but, somehow I understood that he wanted me to take some of the plant. So, that’s what I did. I know it wasn’t exactly a legal move, it being private property and all.”

  “And I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” David said.

  “Saved your bacon, didn’t I?” Gloom countered. David shrugged.

  “When we got back to the Apothecary, Millie told us what was going on and that you’d come here. I figured we’d better hightail it up here in case you needed our help. I brought the plant with me. I think Remy wanted me to. And, turns out you did. Need our help, that is.”

  “I’m glad you came. Thank you, Gloom.”

  “Just consider me ‘hex support’.” She looked up with expectant eyes until I gave her a good scratch under the chin.

  I turned to David. “I really thought for sure you were getting ready to hit me with that spell.”

  David reached for my hand and squeezed. “Hattie, even if I had been under Amber’s spell, do you really think I would do anything to hurt you? You’re my best friend. I’ve always got your back.”

  Grammy’s Chimera’s wand suddenly went very warm in my hand. David took a surprised step back. I held the wand between us. The carved symbol of the crossed swans glowed. Suddenly, the burnished wood of the symbol turned to gold. The magical light faded slowly away.

  “What does that mean?” David asked.

  “It means our Hattie has found her center. Now, she just has to protect it,” Onyx said.

  “Well, you can always count on me, Hattie,” David said.

  “I’m really glad to hear that. I have a feeling it’s going to be put to the test…plenty. Something’s coming. Something terrible. And Spithilda’s murder was just the start. Which reminds me. You had better get Amber’s necklace. It’s a powerful magical amulet and better off in the custody of the GIPPD until we can get it to Talisman.”

  David started to move to Amber, pulling an evidence bag out of his pocket.
>
  I took off my iron pentacle. “Wait! You had better put this in the bag with it. Iron will neutralize it. Who knows what kind of control it could exert over anyone who handles it. Look what it did to poor Amber.”

  “Poor Amber? She did murder her own aunt, you know,” David snapped the necklace and deposited it into the evidence bag with the iron charm.

  “Why did she murder Spithilda?” Midnight asked. “It’s not like she could inherit the money, what with Spithilda’s Mortis Haereditatem curse.”

  “Spells are a lot like the law. Unfortunately, there always seems to be a loophole. After our meeting with ‘Alban Dewdrop’, something hadn’t felt quite right to me. I did some research and found that Hyraceum Crystal, Amber’s mother, had taken over the real Alban Dewdrop’s position as Chair for The Mutley Crew years ago, anticipating her sister’s generous legacy to the organizations. She might not have been able to inherit Spithilda’s money, but as legal Chair of The Mutley Crew, she would have been able to control, and more importantly, spend it. And, Spithilda knew no different. Hyraceum just kept emailing her as Alban Dewdrop, so correspondence between the two never faltered. Acting as Alban, Hyraceum made big promises for Spithilda’s donations to the charity. Goes without saying that this kept Roach’s contributions flowing and her generosity inflated. I’m sure once the police do an audit on how much money the organization t00k in from her death, it will be quite breathtaking. ”

  “It’s true,” Amber blubbered. “My mother orchestrated the whole thing. She forced me to kill Auntie Spithilda and to join the GIPDD to get close to the investigation…and to Chief Trew. I was cast off to Nanker Isle two years ago, as a ruse. To blur any connection I had to Mag Mell and to her; my mom. I was miserable on Nanker and mother knew it. But, I wasn’t allowed home. I lost all my friends, and spent my working time, instead, with a bunch of old crones who lived in the past. They knew nothing of the new magic, or the modern ways. Nothing but clueless fanatics of the Dark Ages. They spoke only of days long gone; before the Burning Times. Oh, and their Wyrmrig altars and homages? They think he’s returning to the physical world, you know? They truly believe that he’ll be walking this earth in the not too distant future! Ha! What a bunch of luddites!”

  Wyrmrig?

  Amber must have seen the brief flash of confusion on my face, because she waved away her last remarks, evidently dismissing the legends that the residents of Nanker had so eagerly talked about . “Day after day I walked home in the rain; the never-ending rain, among those menacing Nanker rock fields. God, it was a miserable place. Every day was bleak and lonely. But, I was just a cog in the wheel, and it was all part of their master plan.”

  “What ‘master plan’?” David asked.

  “I don’t know. They don’t trust me with details since I’m not Fae.”

  “But, your father?” I started.

  “Is a Merchant Sailor mom hooked up with when Dad wasn’t looking. I’m just a witch. And not a very good one at that.”

  “Where’s Hyraceum now?” I asked.

  “Very likely back on Mag Mell. We went to the The Mutley Crew offices, but the toadstool portal had been destroyed. And, as you know, we have no extradition treaty with Mag Mell.”

  “So, she gets away scot free?”

  “I wouldn’t say ‘scot free’. We know what she’s up to now, or at least part of it. We have her crystal. The Talisman Elders may be able to use it to scrye and determine more details of this ‘plan’. Whatever it may be. Clearly they needed a lot of money to get this plan in motion though. ”

  Remulus yawned mightily.

  I let out a nervous chuckle. “Goodness. I guess I’d better be getting these guys home.”

  “And I have intake paperwork for GIPDD’s newest tenant,” David said as he gestured to Amber.

  “See you around?”

  “You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried, Hattie.”

  I really hoped my smile wasn’t as big and dopey as it felt.

  Epilogue

  It was two weeks after the Spithilda Roach case. Despite the rumors of a Fae uprising, all remained quiet on the shores of Glessie Isle. Hyraceum’s charm had been shipped off safely to Talisman for further study on its magical capabilities. Amber was incarcerated, for even though it was suspected her mother had had her under magical control, Talisman laws on murder were pretty cut-and-dried. Her case is under appeal, however.

  A new chair was appointed for The Mutley Crew. Violet Mulberry graciously stood up and volunteered for the position. Her first official act was to print a calendar featuring all the dogs available for adoption as a fundraiser. In every picture, each dog had fabulously rainbow colored hair.

  We had found a new home for Remy, but only after it met with Gloom’s approval. She absolutely demanded that she have visiting rights. So, now Carbon hangs out from time to time at Maude’s and Gloom spends her Saturday mornings…her bright, sunshiny, gorgeous Saturday mornings, at Verdantia Eyebright’s hanging out with her new pal.

  Gloom wasn’t the only one in our little household who had done some growing. I ran my finger over the golden outline of the swans on Grammy Chimera’s wand. I had put my toe back in the magic pool. I wasn’t ready to swim the Channel yet. Heck, I wasn’t sure I was even ready to dog, er, cat paddle. I had finally started to accept that magic was a part of who I was and to deny it was to deny myself. It seemed like David, I mean, Chief Trew might be coming to similar conclusions about his own magic. I wondered what other conclusions he might be coming to.

  More than anything, I’m just really happy that my most morose of kitties, Gloom, had come to the rescue with The Violet Countercharm. My little heart goes pittapat when I think of what could have happened. I shudder to think. I will never look at African Violet’s the same way again, though.

  So, anyway, life goes on. I would take it day-by-day. Meanwhile, I’ll open up The Angel every day. Mix my herbal remedies for my customers. Try to keep Jet from breaking everything I have in stock. Keep Carbon from setting everything ablaze. And try to remember Grammy Chimer’s wise words.

  There’s a little magic in everything, if you’ve half a mind to look.

  About the Author

  Pearl lives in Toronto, Canada with her lazy ginger tom, Charley-Farley.

  Raised in the mystical Westcountry of England, Pearl draws her inspiration from the legion of historical sites to be found in that beloved part of the world. She believes that history is romantic. And also mysterious. Which would explain her passion for Romantic Mystery!

  She invites you to find a comfortable nook -- a pot of tea and lemon squares close by --and fall head over heels in love with the tales you read here.

  Oh, and keep in touch if you can. She'd love it!

  Yes, Please!

  @PearlGoodfellowbooks

  www.soarfreepublishing.com/pearlgoodfellow/

  pearl@soarfreepublishing.com

  Also by Pearl Goodfellow

  Filthy Witch and Dead Famous