by Cindy Stark
Today was different. The moment the newspaper hit her front porch, she tightened her robe and pounced on it like Mr. Kitty on a piece of chicken.
She wrapped her fingers around the black and white print and quickly stepped back inside the house.
The scent of fresh ink hit her nose as she unrolled the paper, and then she gasped.
Stairs creaked as Peter descended. “Well?”
Hazel held the paper up for him to see. “Front page. I feel like the photo of my face is bigger than the real one.”
Peter chuckled and approached. He took the newspaper from her and nodded. “Not quite, but it’s close. Stonebridge’s Next Generation of Witches,” he said as he read the headline.
Her heart cringed. “I guess now everyone knows.”
He placed a quick kiss on her cheek. “They did anyway.”
“Yeah…”
He took her hand and led her to the couch. “Let’s check it out.”
Hazel sat next to him and leaned against his arm as he straightened the paper. She scanned the small print, looking to see if Gracie had included the important stuff or if she’d misquoted her in any way.
She breathed a sigh of relief when she finished. “Gracie actually did a really good job. She’d said she supported witches, but I wasn’t sure until now.”
“Told you she was a good soul.”
Peter flipped to where the rest of the story appeared on page three.
Another, smaller headline caught Hazel’s attention, and she gripped Peter’s arm. “Look. Witches, a Rebuttal.”
“Rebuttal?” Peter mumbled and scanned the page. “Dennis McPherson has written an opposing view on having a witch in residence.”
Hazel read the story, and her blood heated with each passing word. “He actually quotes Samuel Canterbury.”
“If we allow this travesty to continue,” she said in a low, mocking voice, “Stonebridge will become corrupt and fall into decay like other towns have done in the past. Our economy will be ruined, and our children will turn to Satan’s ways. We might as well burn down the whole town first.”
She continued to read and then scoffed. “Eddy Jackson says I hurt his sister with my witchy ways. How dare he? I was totally there for Susan after John died. I visited her. Took her tea…”
Yes, she’d infused her tea with magic to help Susan sleep, but the keyword there was “help”.
Peter crumpled the paper and threw it on the couch next to him. “What a joke. What was the point of having an article about you if they were just going to follow it with that crazy nonsense? Nothing like drawing a line down the middle to divide a town.”
Hazel shook her head in disgust. “I should have known Samuel’s not going to let this go without a fight.”
Peter slipped an arm around her shoulder and tugged her closer to him. He kissed her hair, and she soaked up the comfort. “I say he’d better watch out. He might get more than he bargained for. Right now, he probably thinks there are one or two more of you out there. If the whole coven steps up to fight, he’ll be the one run out of town.”
If, she thought with a heavy heart. So far, none had come to her aid. “Except, I don’t want anyone to run him out of town. If he leaves, it will be harder to bring him to justice for Sarah’s murder.”
Peter’s irritation morphed to anger. “Good point. All he’s done by voicing his opinion is given me more motivation to bring him down faster.”
Hazel lifted her gaze to him. “Any ideas on how to do that?”
“Not yet. I’ve been working on a timeline for that day, listing Sarah’s movements as best I can. Her death cemented some things very clearly in my mind but decimated others.”
She could only imagine. “Do you know for a fact that Samuel was in town during that time?”
He slowly shook his head. “Working on that, too. If I can get any kind of concrete evidence that links him to the murder, I can get a warrant to search his bank records, see if he made any purchases in town around that date.”
Fearful thoughts whispered that they might not ever solve the case. “You do realize this might be hard to prove without a confession.”
He shrugged, but she caught the torment beneath his casual gesture. “Then I’ll get him to confess.”
Her mind wandered to a spell she’d cast before when she’d needed Glenys to confess. “I could force him to tell the truth.”
He whipped his gaze sharply toward her. “I won’t have you give up a year of your life for that. Sarah’s gone. Nothing we do will bring her back. But I’ll die first before I’ll let him steal anything else from me, including a second of your life.”
His declaration warmed her heart, and she placed a hand on his cheek. “Then we’ll figure out something else. He’ll pay for what he’s done. Not only to Sarah, but for the contention and heartache he’s caused this town.”
“He and too many others. It’s continued for centuries.”
“True, but he’s brought something that simmered beneath the surface to a full, roiling boil that has hurt people I love. Enough is enough.”
Hazel’s phone rang, echoing from the bedroom upstairs. She slid from his grasp. “I’d better get it. I doubt it’s my mother this early, but it could be Cora.”
She raced up the stairs and was lucky enough to answer before the caller hung up.
“Hazel? It’s Gracie Adkins from the Sentinel.”
A smile flew to her face. She really liked this young, spunky reporter who had the guts to take her side. “Good morning, Gracie. Just read your article. It was fantastic.”
“Thank you,” Gracie replied, but something in her voice caught Hazel’s attention. She didn’t sound as happy to have the headline news of the day as Hazel had expected she might.
“Is something wrong?”
Gracie blew out a breath. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you could tell. I suppose great intuition goes along with being a witch.”
Hazel narrowed her gaze and ignored the reporter’s comment. “Gracie, what is it?”
A silent pause followed.
Then Gracie sighed. “I’m sure it’s nothing. I’ve been getting flak from some people in town for writing the article, which I expected. It’s just…I don’t know how to explain it.”
That didn’t set well with Hazel. “I’m so sorry. How can I help?”
“I’m sure you saw the article Dennis wrote. He’s been my biggest source of contention. He is outright speaking against you.”
The thought that her heritage brought trouble to others bothered her. “Please don’t feel like you need to defend me.”
“It’s not just you, Hazel. I’m defending all the witches who may or may not live here, including those persecuted in the past. The things that have happened are not okay.”
She couldn’t argue with that.
“I’ve spoken to my editor about my concerns, and he agreed to let me do a follow up article to Dennis’s rebuttal. I think I need to set the record straight about a few things, and I was hoping we could meet.”
Hazel couldn’t deny her that. “Of course. Anything you need. Today? Tomorrow?”
“I’d like to do it as soon as possible. I want things on record in case…”
Apprehension sparked. “In case what, Gracie?”
Hazel caught sight of Peter standing in the bedroom doorway and flashed a worried gaze at him.
He narrowed his eyes in response.
Gracie paused again. “Really, it’s nothing. Can’t write a controversial article and not expect a response from the public, right?”
Her response didn’t ease Hazel’s fears. “Gracie?”
“It’s all right, Hazel. I lost my big girl panties there for a minute and let my fears get the best of me.”
Hazel could better grill Gracie in person about what caused her fears and maybe even cast a protective spell on her. “How about Cora’s in fifteen minutes?”
Gracie’s relieved chuckle spoke volumes. “That would be great.
I’ll leave my house to head there now and wait for you.”
Hazel and Gracie said their goodbyes, and then Hazel shifted her gaze to Peter. “It was Gracie. Some don’t like what she wrote. No surprise there. But she’s hoping to follow up with another article to answer accusations in Dennis’s.”
“And?” he prompted.
He’d picked up on her anxiety as easily as she had Gracie’s. “And I’m worried. She seemed scared of something.”
Peter crossed to the closet and pulled out a fresh uniform. “Has someone threatened her?”
Hazel shook her head. “Not that she mentioned. Really, it’s what she didn’t say that has me concerned.”
He studied her with serious eyes. “Don’t doubt your intuition. She did put herself out on a limb. I’ll go with you to Cora’s and see if she’s okay with me assigning extra officers to patrol her street and the Sentinel’s office.”
“I think that’s a good idea. Maybe you can convince her to not go anywhere alone, either.”
Ten
Fifteen minutes later, Hazel arrived with Peter in his police cruiser at Cora’s Café. They strode toward the front doors with purpose, and Hazel tried to rein in her fearful imagination.
Peter held open the door for her. She entered and immediately scanned the restaurant for Gracie’s blond curls. When she couldn’t spot the reporter, Hazel’s worry deepened.
She quickly searched again. “She’s not here, Peter.”
He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Don’t panic. She could arrive at any minute.”
Her anxiety wouldn’t be quelled. “She left before us. She should be here.”
Peter took her hand and led her forward. “Let’s grab a booth close to the front door so we can watch for her.”
Cora arrived promptly with an order pad in her hand. “What can I get you folks this morning?” she asked brightly.
Hazel shot her a panicked look. “Have you seen Gracie? Has she come in yet?”
Cora’s aura dimmed to a grayish-yellow and concern filled her gaze. “Gracie Adkins?”
“Yeah,” Peter answered, his voice filled with uneasiness that added to her increasing dread.
Cora glanced between them as though searching for visual clues. “No. Not this morning.”
Peter reached for Hazel’s hand and squeezed. “She should be here soon then. How about a couple mugs of Spiced Chai for us while we wait?” he said to Cora.
“Sure thing.”
Cora seemed reluctant to turn away, but she did.
Sitting and doing nothing would drive Hazel insane. “Can we put out a missing persons alert on her?”
Peter caught her gaze and held. “She’s not technically missing, Hazel. She’s only a few minutes late. Why don’t you try calling her?”
Hazel gasped at her idiocy in not having already done that. She pulled out her phone and hit redial on Gracie’s number.
She held out hope as the first ring echoed in her ear. Then two rings. Then three.
After the fourth ring, Gracie’s friendly voice came across the line and said she was unavailable to take the call and to leave a message.
Hazel ended the call and turned her fearful gaze to Peter. “Voice mail.”
Peter clenched his jaw and studied her face. He tapped his fingers on the table as though that helped him process information. “I don’t like this, either.”
Fear trembled inside her. “What do we do?”
He jerked his head toward the café’s counter. “Ask Cora for to-go cups and meet me outside. I’ll call dispatch and have them put out the word to look for her. Let Cora know that she’s to call us if Gracie shows, and we’ll take a drive out to her house.”
She parted ways with Peter and approached the counter. Cora had teacups ready to deliver to them. Hazel tried for a smile and failed. “Could we get those to go?”
“Of course. No problem,” she answered but her usual cheeriness was gone.
Cora cast a quick glance to both sides of herself, and Hazel followed suit. The older men who could be found there daily seemed ignorant of them.
Cora pulled two Styrofoam cups from beneath the counter and lifted her brows in question. “Okay?” she asked softly.
Hazel gave a slight shake of her head.
Cora studied her for a long moment, and the tension caused by their inability to have a free conversation radiated from her.
She placed lids on the cups, and Hazel slid a ten-dollar bill toward her. “Thanks so much. We’ll talk later,” she said in a low voice.
Hazel picked up the two cups and headed for the door.
Outside, she caught Peter just as he finished speaking with dispatch on his shoulder mic. “All units are on the lookout for her car.”
She passed a cup of tea to him, and they hurried toward his car. Peter opened her door, but before she could climb inside, she caught a flash of ginger fur racing down the cobblestone sidewalk toward her. She turned in that direction and found Mr. Kitty making a beeline for the car. He jumped onto the passenger seat before she could react.
She stared at her cat with surprise.
Hurry.
Mr. Kitty’s voice echoed around her.
Silent alarms blared in her head, and she turned to Peter. “Did you hear that? Mr. Kitty says to hurry.”
She didn’t wait for Peter’s response before she scooted onto the passenger seat next to her cat and reached to close the passenger door.
Peter stopped her, looking perplexed. “I didn’t hear anything.”
She huffed in exasperation. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s go. Something is telling me this is bad.”
Peter didn’t use his siren as he drove to Gracie’s house, but he didn’t keep to the speed limit, either. He turned on several streets, taking sharp corners as he headed toward the south end of town.
He came to a sudden stop in front of an older, one-level house, and shoved his car into park. “That’s her Mustang.”
Hazel clambered out of the cruiser. Peter and Mr. Kitty did the same. She eyed the late-model black muscle car that waited in the drive and tried to ignore the trepidation growing inside her.
An oppressive hush weighted the air. Skeletons of trees stripped of their leaves by frosty nights stood sentry around the house. Even they seemed to warn that Hazel would find nothing good inside the walls.
She couldn’t be certain, but she swore she sensed the taste of death, and it sickened her.
She rushed toward the door. “Hurry, Peter.”
Hazel rang the doorbell repeatedly while Peter pounded with a heavy fist.
Then they waited.
No answer.
“This is bad,” she whispered.
Peter shook his head as though he wouldn’t believe it until he saw it. He lifted a booted-foot and kicked the door with a powerful thud. Splinters of wood shot from the doorframe, and the door flew open, banging hard against the interior wall.
Hazel tried to step inside, but Peter grabbed her with a firm hand.
He slid his gun from the holster and eyed her. “Stay close behind me. Don’t touch anything.”
A sickening shiver coursed through her. “Go past the kitchen and up the stairs. She’s in the bathroom.”
Peter clenched his jaw and led the way.
He stopped at the closed bathroom door and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket.
Her throat tightened. “She’s in there.”
He cursed beneath his breath and carefully opened the door.
Beautiful Gracie lay in a crumpled pile near the sink, her face turned away from Hazel. An open pill bottle rested on the floor next to her.
Peter rushed forward and dropped to his knees next to the body. He placed two fingers on her wrist. “Don’t touch anything. Call 9-1-1. I need an ambulance now.”
An ominous, empty darkness colored her vision, and she couldn’t move. Mr. Kitty brushed her leg.
Peter shot Hazel a fierce look. “Hazel. Call for help.”
She blinked as he started chest compressions.
Mr. Kitty glanced up at her and shook his head.
“Peter,” she said softly and approached. “It’s too late. She’s long gone.”
Not a trace of Gracie’s spirit remained in the room.
She knew it wouldn’t matter what they did. Gracie wouldn’t be back.
Hazel knelt next to Peter who performed rescue breaths, and she placed a hand on his shoulder. “She’s gone.”
He sat back on his haunches and looked at her with utter defeat. “No,” he boomed. “Call for help.”
She did as he asked, imparting pertinent information to police dispatch, and then hung up. The heartbreaking emotion vibrating in the room brought tears to Hazel’s eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
He stood, nearly knocking her off balance. Then held out a hand to help her up. “This is unacceptable. We’ve got to stop whoever did this.”
Hazel cringed at discussing murder suspects over Gracie’s dead body and tugged Peter into the hallway. Mr. Kitty followed and then disappeared down the stairs. “Whoever did this? Meaning Samuel and Timothy?”
“Them and whoever else is hiding in their shadows. I’m making a list and adding Dennis McPherson from the Sentinel. Not to mention Eddy Jackson.”
“You can add Quentin Fletcher, too.”
Hazel repeated the nasty things Quentin had said to her in the café earlier in the week. “He’s definitely a person to consider.”
Peter gave a firm nod. “That jerk. I should wring his neck.”
Hazel nodded in agreement.
Peter held up his hand, spreading his fingers wide. “That’s five suspects to start with if you include Samuel and Timothy.”
“Out of those five, I’d make Samuel the priority. Even though we haven’t been able to prove it, I know he’s the one who attacked Fauna. He has a dark heart, and I believe he’s more than capable of murder.”
“I agree, one-hundred percent. Pray we find a clue here that will help us.”
Hazel drew a strand of hair across her lips and tried to recall the last conversation she’d had with the reporter. “Gracie mentioned some in town were giving her flak, but she didn’t name names. She did say Dennis was her biggest source of contention.”
