Nefarious Nine: A Cozy Mystery (Teas and Temptations Book 9)

by Cindy Stark

  His lips curved into a placating smile. “I’ve been doing investigations for years, Hazel. I’m certain of the date, and, yes, I glanced at our receipt, too.”

  “I know that you know what you’re doing,” she conceded. “But it would make things easier if you were wrong.”

  He slid a sideways glance toward her. “Not up for the legwork this go-round?”

  She frowned. “I’d be totally up for it if everyone in town wasn’t constantly watching me. It’s driving me a little crazy.”

  “You’re the hot, new commodity. The stuff of legends,” he teased.

  She rolled her eyes. “Stop. You know as well as I do that there are more than a few who’ve tipped their hand and made it clear they don’t approve of witches. In fact, Tony spouted today that some are calling for your resignation.”

  Her heart rippled with guilt at the negative impact she’d had on his life. “Is that true?”

  He exhaled a deep breath. “Don’t worry about it. There are always troublemakers in town that aren’t happy with something I’ve done. Mayor hasn’t said anything, and until he does, I’m not going to worry about it.”

  Hazel considered Mayor Elwood and his wife, wondering which side they’d chosen. She’d known them both for a while now and had gotten along with them well. In fact, Sandra had trusted her enough to admit to cheating on her husband years ago, a fact that could damage her and her husband’s reputations, which Hazel had kept to herself. Perhaps she could consider them on her side.

  Suzy approached, carrying a tray with their sandwiches.

  Hazel grinned when she spotted the pickle on her plate, nested next to potato chips. “Looks delicious. Thank you.”

  Peter echoed her sentiments.

  Suzy kept her gaze on Peter and smiled. “Enjoy.” She turned without acknowledging Hazel at all.

  Hazel lifted her hands in question. “What am I? Chopped liver?”

  He chuckled. “I think she likes me, which means she can’t like you.”

  She snorted. “No ego at this table.”

  He shrugged, looking every bit the confident police chief. “Women love a man in uniform. What can I say?”

  She folded her arms and regarded him with a teasing stare. “Are you saying this happens to you often? Do I need to be worried about other women hitting on you?”

  A laugh escaped him, and he covered her hand with his. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Parrish. I only have eyes for you.”

  She grinned. “Good thing, or I might reconsider stepping up my hex game.”

  ****

  An hour later, Hazel and Peter arrived back in Stonebridge. Peter turned onto Main Street, and Hazel caught sight of a crowd of people gathered in the distance.

  She squinted to see better. “Are they in front of my shop?”

  Peter paused and then nodded. “Looks like it. I hope it’s a friendly gathering because I don’t see any of my men in attendance.”

  He parked in the closest space he could find, across the street from her teashop. He took her hand as they crossed Main Street and approached the group.

  Several noticed their arrival, and, by the time they stepped up onto the cobblestone sidewalk, the crowd had hushed, and everyone stared.

  Peter cleared his throat. “Problem here?”

  Margaret peeked her head above the crowd. “No, no. It’s all good.”

  People stepped back, and Hazel found Margaret buttoned and belted into a brown tweed coat identical to the one she’d seen on Kate Middleton in a magazine recently. Her black hose and heels seemed oddly out of place in small-town Stonebridge. Gretta’s sister, Katie, wore jeans and a cream, cable-knit sweater, looking bland in comparison.

  Margaret lifted both hands as though to prove their innocence to Peter. “We were only having a discussion. Right, everyone?”

  Some nodded, but others grunted in disagreement.

  Eddy Jackson folded his arms, pushing out his biceps. His eyes had darkened to the color of his almost black hair. “I’d say we have the police chief’s secretary—”

  “Administrative assistant,” Margaret corrected.

  Eddy rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Margaret is trying to convince us all that we should forget Hazel has tainted blood and go about our merry ways.”

  Peter made to approach Eddy, but Hazel stopped him with a squeeze of her hand. Instead of responding, she flipped her gaze to Margaret. She wanted to hear what her friend had to say.

  Margaret smoothed her coat. “As I was saying, I think if we take an honest look at the situation, we’ll see that we have nothing to fear from Hazel. She’s lived with us for months without causing any trouble.”

  “I could name a few problems,” Quentin Fletcher called from the other side.

  Hazel narrowed her gaze at the annoying man and dared him to blame her for anything. She’d been a perfect, upstanding citizen…except for spiking a few teas. And performing a few blood spells.

  But those were all done with a pure heart and in the best interest of the town. And they were nothing they needed to know about.

  Mrs. Tillens raised a white-gloved hand. “What if she turns someone into a frog?”

  A laugh burst from Hazel, and she quickly covered it with a cough. “I don’t turn people to frogs, Mrs. Tillens. Couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

  Unless her mother had forgotten to mention that, too.

  Others piped up with questions, talking over each other.

  Margaret curled her thumb and forefinger between perfectly-colored red lips, and her shrill whistle cut through the chatter. “All right, everyone. Calm down. I think what we need is an opportunity for everyone to ask Hazel questions, but in a dignified manner.”

  Hazel widened her eyes, wondering where Margaret was headed. She could lead Hazel down an uncomfortable, if not dangerous road if she wasn’t careful.

  Margaret shifted a sly smile in Hazel’s direction. “I propose we have our first-ever Ask-A-Witch night.”

  Ask-A-Witch?

  “How do you feel about that, Hazel?” Margaret asked. “Would you be willing to give the town some insight into what it really means to live with a witch in our town?”

  She nodded without hesitation. “Yes, of course. If it would make you all feel better, I’m happy to have a frank discussion. I’d like people to understand my version of witchcraft. Bring it out of the dark and into the light so that no one needs to fear it.”

  The crowd dissolved into multiple incoherent discussions.

  “Does that mean yes?” Margaret said loudly.

  Some nodded or murmured their agreement. Others still grumbled.

  Mrs. Tillens sent Hazel a warm smile. “I think it sounds lovely. I’ll come up with some great questions, dear.”

  “Yeah,” Quentin called. “I’ll have some doozies. Hope you’re prepared, witch.”

  Hazel swallowed and smiled. “I’ll do my best.”

  “Done,” Margaret said. “Watch for flyers around town for the date and time. I’ll post as soon as I have everything put together.”

  A blond-haired boy about five years old tugged on his mom’s hand. “Will there be ice cream?”

  Margaret glanced down at him. “Austin has a fantastic idea. Let’s make it a fun evening with delicious treats, too. It will take a little more work to pull it together, but I’m up to the task.”

  Peter slowly closed his eyes and shook his head as though he thought they were all crazy.

  Margaret’s smile only grew bigger. “Don’t worry, Mr. Boss Man. It won’t affect my work.”

  He lifted both hands in defeat. “I’m for whatever brings peace to the town. Let me know what I can do to help.”

  Others barraged Margaret with ideas, excited to join in. Apparently, the idea of a party made everything okay in Stonebridge.

  Peter tugged Hazel back from the group and escorted her inside the teashop. The door closed, muffling the sounds of party volunteers, and she was grateful to be out of the line of fire.

  Peter
tilted her chin upward, his eyes lined with concern. “Are you really okay with this? They could ask some tough questions.”

  “Honestly, I’m a little nervous. But communication is better than speculation, right?”

  He shrugged and then nodded. “I suppose.”

  “Then it’s an opportunity I shouldn’t pass up.”

  Peter pulled her in for a tight hug. “Be brave then. I’ll have your six.”

  She shot him a look of confusion. “Six?”

  He chuckled. “Six, like on a clock. You’re in the twelve position, and I’ve got the other side covered. Get it?”

  “My six. Yes.”

  She placed her hands on his cheeks and kissed him, thanking the universe for saving the best man for her.

  Fourteen

  Hazel received the summons to appear before the coven’s council at exactly midnight. She and Peter were half asleep, and the incessant tapping on her windowsill startled them both. Especially since their bedroom was on the second floor.

  Peter was out of bed with a gun in his hand before Hazel could get her bearings. His actions sent her heart racing, and she blinked to clear the sleep from her eyes. She wasn’t sure if she should prepare to fight or if the sound came from something more innocuous.

  Staying low, Peter cautiously approached the window. He lifted a corner of the blinds and peeked out. “What the…”

  He opened the blinds with a jerk on the cords. They rose with a whooshing sound and revealed something flapping on the opposite side of the window.

  Hazel slid from bed, and the late-night chill surrounded her. “A bird?”

  “A raven,” Peter corrected. “It has something in its beak.”

  She blinked several times, wondering if she was dreaming.

  When she stood next to Peter, she could see that she wasn’t. “What on earth?”

  Peter released a snort of incredulity. “Call me insane, but I think it’s trying to deliver a message.”

  Hazel could open the window, but the screen would remain a barrier, and she wasn’t about to fuss with that in the middle of the night. “Then it can deliver it to the back porch.”

  She’d heard of witches using birds to deliver messages in the past, but she’d thought that mode of communication had disappeared with the dark ages. Seriously, a text message or phone call would have been just fine.

  She flipped on the hall light as she exited the bedroom, taking care not to trip down the stairs as she descended. She turned toward the kitchen and headed for the back door with Peter right behind her.

  He reached for the doorknob before she could. “Let me look first.”

  A shiver left her uneasy. She hadn’t considered the letter might come by way of nefarious means, but perhaps she should have.

  Peter opened the door a few inches to look out, but the second he did, the raven flew through the opening and entered the kitchen.

  Peter cursed.

  Hazel gasped.

  The bird flapped erratic wings as it circled the ceiling, and she sensed it was as nervous about this delivery as they were.

  She opened her hands, palms up. “Here,” she coaxed.

  The large black bird dove toward her, and she ducked her head instinctively. The corner of the envelope hit her on the crown of her head, and she whipped open her eyes as it fell to the floor.

  The raven resumed its frantic flying, setting Hazel’s nerves on edge. “Open the door, Peter. See if it will go out.”

  Peter pulled the door open wider than he had the first time, and the bird soared out into the midnight sky. The frenzied energy evaporated the second Peter shut the door, and all was quiet once again.

  Hazel bent to retrieve the delivery. The envelope had been crafted from handmade paper, and the thick fibers left the surface bumpy. That, along with her name written in calligraphy, intrigued Hazel.

  Peter strode to her side. “Who’s it from?”

  She turned the envelope over and shrugged. “It’s addressed to me, but no return address.”

  She snorted. “Because why would it need one when delivered by bird?”

  Peter clearly wasn’t as entertained by the method of delivery as she was. “Open it.”

  Hazel lifted a corner of the envelope and slipped her finger inside. Carefully, she tore it open. Inside, a sheet of similar paper waited for her. She pulled it out and unfolded it.

  “You are hereby summoned to appear before the Stonebridge Coven Council,” she read aloud although Peter stood right next to her and could clearly see for himself.

  She lowered the summons and shifted her gaze to Peter. “They couldn’t just send a text message?”

  “Hazel. They want to meet with you right now.”

  She jerked her gaze back to the rough parchment and quickly read the rest of the message that stated she should head toward the Chickatawbut Woods on the edge of town and then wait for further instruction. “Now? But it’s the middle of the night.”

  Peter ran a hand through his rumpled hair, obviously not thrilled with their invitation either. “I wouldn’t go.”

  She wished she could ignore it, but the idea of ignoring them set panic in her heart. “But what if they need me?”

  He shot her a skeptical look. “They’re not even nice to you. Besides, it could be a trap.”

  Hazel bit her bottom lip and glanced at the handwritten summons. “Maybe so. The Chickatawbut Woods? As far as I know, the coven has always gathered where we met Polly and Fauna the other night.”

  Peter shot her a knowing look. “Seems suspicious to me.”

  Her phone buzzed on the kitchen table and gave her a fright. She hurried to grab it. This time, they’d used modern means to contact her. “It’s Cora. She says they know the summons has been delivered and to come now.”

  Peter moved to her side and took the phone from her hands. “It’s from Cora’s number, not necessarily Cora. There’s a big difference there.”

  His insistence aggravated her.

  She quickly tapped out a reply, speaking as she did. “Prove this is you. Who is Mr. Kitty’s girlfriend?”

  Only Polly, Cora, and Peter would be able to answer that question.

  Her nerves twisted as she waited for a response.

  Peter shook his head. “I don’t like this.”

  Her phone buzzed again, and she glanced at it. Her lips curved into a smile. “Sorcha. She’s right. I need to go, Peter.”

  He sighed. “Not without me.”

  She sent him a heartfelt smile, grateful for his love and support. “Thank you, Chief Parrish.”

  She replied to Cora’s message, stating that she would be ready to go in five minutes.

  When they were settled in Peter’s cruiser, he started the engine. He shifted his gaze to her and lifted a sardonic brow. “Are late night jaunts going to be a regular thing with you? We never discussed this before the wedding.”

  She gave him a friendly punch to the arm. “Shut up and drive.”

  Peter took the long way to the edge of town, ensuring that no one followed. When they neared their destination, Hazel messaged for further directions.

  Cora instructed her on where to turn, where to park, and how far to walk into the woods.

  Chilly, midnight air accompanied them on their silent walk through the trees. Peter said nothing, but she couldn’t ignore the tension rolling off him.

  When they’d almost reached their destination and a message came telling her where Peter could wait for her, he balked. “You’re crazy if you think I’m letting you wander off alone.”

  She understood and appreciated his concern. “It’s an official coven meeting, Peter. I have to go alone.”

  He held tight to her hand and shook his head. “Not happening.”

  She squeezed his hand. “Really. It’s okay. I can sense the cloaking spell just a few feet over. They are likely meeting in the trees just beyond us. I’ll be fine.”

  “But if you’re not fine, I won’t be able to find you.”
<
br />   Cora appeared from between two pines. She wore a fantastic purple and black flowing skirt, a heavy black cloak, and the pointed hat she wore, complete with black feather plumes and deep purple and periwinkle flowers, gave Hazel a serious case of hat envy.

  “Hazel. Peter. Welcome.” She greeted them both, her voice sounding cordial yet official. “Peter, you will need to wait here.”

  He frowned.

  Hazel lifted on her tiptoes and placed a kiss on the corner of his lips. “See? I’ll be fine, and I’ll be back soon.”

  He met her with a fierce gaze. “You’d better, or I’ll burn down this whole forest looking for you.”

  Cora widened her eyes in surprise.

  The coven might not be particularly happy with her, but they were her people, and a few were good friends. “Don’t worry,” she reassured.

  Hazel left Peter’s side and linked an arm with Cora. “He’s a little protective.”

  Cora chuckled. “Rightly so.”

  Hazel gave one backward glance and slipped between the trees where Cora had emerged. A cacophony of arguing voices greeted her. The coven was literally only feet from Peter, but neither of them had heard a word of the discord brewing behind the veil.

  Some of the members were people she barely knew from town, and she’d had no idea witch blood flowed in their veins. They’d truly remained hidden.

  Polly caught sight of Hazel and Cora and drew her brows together. “I’ll have order,” she said to the group.

  When some continued to debate in lowered tones, she repeated her adamant request. “Order. Please.”

  Everyone quieted, and a few cast furtive glances at Hazel. All wore their finest witchy attire, leaving her to feel significantly underdressed and uncomfortable. Though the latter may have been caused by the multitude of mixed feelings swirling about the trees.

  Polly caught her gaze. The leader’s flowing green skirt and hat covered with wild flowers suited her much better than the no-nonsense clothing she usually wore. “We apologize for the late hour and last-minute notice, Hazel, but after the commotion you’ve stirred in town and the dire circumstances you’ve put us in, we had to take every precaution.”