I thought it over in my head. There were quite a few witches I hadn’t met, plus the girls from my potions class, Judy, and my mom. The only ones I knew for sure didn’t do it were in the class with me, and they were also the only ones I trusted. However, I wanted to learn as much as I could about what happened before discussing the possibilities with my new friends.
“I’m guessing that Judy was the first one to find Margot, so let’s talk to her,” I said.
Bart, Allen, and I walked over to Judy, who was staring down at Margot’s body. She had a blank expression on her face, and I couldn’t read what was going through her mind.
“Hey Judy,” I said. “I know you probably don’t-”
“You’re right,” she nodded. “I don’t want to talk to you.”
“If you cared at all about your friend, you’ll talk to Zoey,” said Bart bluntly.
Judy glared down at him. Her hand started to glow red, before Allen stepped in between the cat and the witch.
“Let’s keep the magic use to a minimum while we’re figuring this out, shall we?” said Allen. “Besides, the familiar is right. The more you tell us about what you saw, the better chances are that we’ll find who killed her.”
She thought about it for a moment, looking between me, Allen, and Bart. She dropped her shoulders and sighed. “Fine. What do you want to know?”
“When was the last time you saw Margot?” I asked. No point in any small talk.
“We went to the broom flying class since the other two looked lame,” she said. “Neither of us were paying much attention, and she was getting really antsy. She kept interrupting the lecturer, which I could see was getting on the teacher’s nerves. I don’t blame her. Margot can be a handful sometimes. Or… she could…”
“Is it possible your lecturer killed her?” I asked.
“No,” said Judy, shaking her head. “Margot told me she needed to go to the bathroom. I offered to come with, but she declined. I stayed and did my best to learn something I didn’t already know. After the chimes went off and Margot hadn’t returned, I left the class before everyone else to go look for her. The lecturer didn’t leave before me. When I got close to the bathrooms I found Margot… just laying there…”
“Was anyone else nearby?” I asked.
“I don’t think so,” she said. “I thought she was just messing around at first, so I went up and tried to poke her. I realized that she wasn’t breathing and I couldn’t get a heartbeat. I lost control, and just screamed, hoping someone could come and do something.”
“It was too late,” commented Allen. “Our medics determined that by the time Judy found Margot, she was already dead.”
“Is there anyone you could think that had ill will towards Margot?” I asked.
“Who didn’t?” she scoffed. “You met her once. She comes across as abrasive, she fights when she doesn’t need to, and she thinks it’s funny to insult people. I hate to say it, but she even got on my nerves from time to time.”
“So you wished her harm, too?” asked Bart.
“I’m not saying that,” she said, glaring at the familiar. “I’m just saying that even her close friends could find her to be too much sometimes.”
“Well, that doesn’t really narrow down the suspects,” I sighed. “By the way, have you noticed she’s looking a little… blue?”
“Are you making a joke that she looks sad that she’s dead?” asked Judy, not amused.
“N-No!” I said. “I mean, look at her skin. It’s a shade of blue.”
Judy looked closer at her friend, her eyes widening some. “You’re right… she does look a bit blue.”
“Any idea what could cause that?” I asked. “Any spells?”
“I don’t know of any,” she said, shaking her head.
I gave Allen and Bart a disappointed look. Hopefully I could figure that part out soon. I felt like I had a pretty good grasp on what Judy knew for the time being. It was time to move on.
“Thanks for your help. We’ve got a few other people to talk to.”
“Best of luck,” she said. “I think I’m going to go sit down.”
Allen and Bart followed after me as I made my way towards Samantha. Now that I knew the story of how Margot was found, I could talk to someone I was more inclined to trust.
Samantha was leaning against a wall, jotting some notes on a piece of paper.
“What are you writing?” I asked.
“Oh, just a list of ingredients for a new potion I’m trying,” she said, scribbling another thing before putting them back in her purse. “How’s the sleuthing going?”
“Not great,” I admitted. “All we know is that Judy found Margot in front of the bathrooms, and that a lot of people don’t like Margot. Did you ever interact with her?”
“Yes,” she nodded. “She was one of the meanest witches I’ve ever encountered, and that’s saying something.”
“She was mean to you?” I asked. I wasn’t surprised, but wanted her to keep talking.
“She took one of my potion seminars a few years ago, heckling me the whole time. I wasn’t able to get to any of my material because she kept cutting me off,” said Samantha, eyes narrowing at the memory. “The seminar ended and I got horrible reviews from everyone. Word got up to the Witch’s Board, and they said if I didn’t change soon, they would not invite me back to the conference anymore.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, giving her arm a squeeze. While I wasn’t happy she was dead, I was starting to see she had a lot of negative effects on people.
“It’s okay,” said Samantha. “I wish I could’ve convinced Margot to talk with me sometime before she died, though. I always strive to impart a love of potions in other witches, even though I often fail at it.”
“You know a bit about spellwork in addition to potions, right?” I asked.
“Of course,” she said. “You couldn’t survive attending this conference back in my day without understanding a few defensive and offensive spells. Why do you ask?”
“I noticed that Margot had a blue color to her skin that wasn’t there before she died,” I said. “Do you know of any spells that would do that?”
“Spells that turn you blue…” she mumbled, tapping her fingers on her chin. “Not that I know of.”
“Shoot,” I said. I felt like that was important, and I had no clue what caused the coloring.
“However… it could be from taking too much of a powerful sleeping potion, now that I think about it,” she said.
“Sleeping potion?” said Allen. “Why would she go to the bathroom to take a sleeping potion? It’s the middle of the day for you humans!”
“That’s why the potion was probably a murder weapon, rather than intentional,” said Bart.
“Oh…” cooed Allen. “I see.”
“Which sleeping potion does that?” I asked, thinking back to our potions class and how there were likely multiple types.
“Sleeping Spruce.”
“Wait… isn’t that the one that you said was your favorite?” I asked.
“It is,” she nodded. “Like I said, I suffer from bad insomnia. None of the other sleeping potions are enough to put me down for a full night, so I have to use it. It’s more dangerous than the others, but I’m very meticulous about how much I take.”
“What are the side effects of taking too much? Aside from turning slightly blue?” I asked.
Samantha fumbled with her glasses as she pointed at Margot.
“Death.”
Chapter 6
Samantha excused herself to go to the bathroom, leaving us to figure out who to talk to next.
“So we’re looking for someone that would have that sleeping potion?” asked Allen.
“Probably,” I said. Unfortunately, it would be easy for someone to just throw the bottle away, empty the contents into the bathroom sink, hide it, or just flat out deny having any on them. It wasn’t like we were going to go around, frisking everyone.
“That’s a little
strange that the killer would use a potion, don’t you think?” asked Bart.
“Why is that strange?” asked Allen. “Don’t potions and witches go hand in hand? There’s even a break out session on the topic at this conference.”
“Bart means that most of the witches here view potions as unnecessary, or the sign of a weak witch,” I said. The cat made a good point. “However, the killer could’ve used a potion in order to throw people off their trail…”
I let my sentence die as I saw my mom sneak off into the larger ballroom, attempting to cover her face. Was she trying to escape?
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I groaned, running down the hall after her.
I pushed the doors open to find her trying to go through another side door.
“Hold on, Miss Foster!” said Allen. If he thought being polite was going to help him here, he was sadly mistaken.
“Mom, it’s no use in running off,” I called out after her. “I’ll eventually find you anyway!”
My mom hesitated as she stood halfway in the door frame. She sighed, letting go and taking a step back into the ballroom.
“Look Zoey,” she sighed. “I know that you’re just trying to do your best, but we both know I had absolutely nothing to do with this. Also, it isn’t Foster anymore, it’s Edwards.”
“Oh. Sorry,” said Allen.
“I don’t know that you had nothing to do with this, and you tried to insinuate I was the one that did it just a few minutes ago,” I said, glaring at her.
“I was just having a bit of fun,” she smirked. “Obviously you couldn’t have done it. You don’t have the thick skin required to do it.”
“And you do?” I asked.
“To kill someone?” she scoffed. “If I have to. To kill Margot? That’s a waste of time. What would I get out of it?”
“Everyone had beef with Margot. Are you saying that you didn’t dislike her?”
“Dislike her? Of course I didn’t like her. She was an annoying little brat, that thought because she came from money she was hot stuff. It might impress other young people, but it sure didn’t impress me or the older guard.”
“I didn’t know she came from money,” I said.
“Of course she did. Why else do you think Judy hung around her all the time?” asked my mom, giving me a look like I was an idiot.
“Judy never mentioned that…” I said, thinking back to our conversation. Did Judy have some sort of monetary gain by killing Margot? Surely it would’ve made more sense to keep her friend alive and have her pay for things.
“Well, maybe Judy is the one that killed her then,” shrugged my mom.
“You’re being extremely quick to point the blame,” noted Bart.
“Do you want me to summon another muzzle for you?”
Bart glared at her but remained silent.
“There won’t be any need for that, Miss Edwards,” said Allen. “He does have a point, however. Whenever someone is even briefly mentioned as a suspect, you seem to immediately point the finger at them.”
“So?” she asked.
“So it makes you seem very guilty,” I said.
“I just speak what comes to my mind, Zoey, you know that.”
Did I. I learned early on to not ask my mom’s advice when trying on clothes. It wasn’t fun being told I look fat in every single top I put on when I was a teenager. She also scared off more than one friend that came over to study. Bridgette was the only one that ever came over to my house more than once.
“Do you have any proof that it was me?” she continued. “Or just that I help guide you in other, more realistic, directions?”
“Mostly the latter,” admitted Allen.
“So we’re done here?” she asked, looking at the three of us in turn. “I’m cleared by the Spanish Inquisition?”
“You’re still a suspect,” I said.
“Why?” demanded my mom. “You have nothing on me. You’re just using what little power you have right now to try and punish me.”
“No I’m not,” I said, angry that she would accuse me of such a thing.
“You’ve never been able to forgive me after your dad left,” she shrugged. “It’s not my fault he did. He just couldn’t handle me being a witch.”
“Oh yeah,” I nodded, feigning agreement. “I’m sure it had nothing to do with all the times you threw vases and plates at him.”
“This seems to be getting a bit personal,” laughed Allen nervously, glancing down at Bart.
“If I wanted to hit him with them, I would’ve,” she said.
“He never did anything to cause you to do that!”
“You always took his side,” she grunted.
My phone buzzed as we argued. I glanced down to see that Drake was calling. I felt bad, but I couldn’t really talk. He’d have to wait.
“See how defensive you’re getting about old history? You’re just doing all of this because your mad at me. I knew it!” she shouted.
“If I was just getting back at you, I’d just take you to Eleanor and the vampires right now!” I shouted back.
“Now ladies…” tried Allen.
“Um… you might want to calm down a bit,” cautioned Bart.
“I am calm!” my mom and I shouted at the same time.
Bart shrank back and shared a look with Allen. I felt a ping of guilt. My mom was bringing the worst out in me, but it wasn’t fair to Bart and Allen to yell at them. I was feeding into old feelings, and becoming like my mom. That was the last thing I wanted to do.
“Eleanor would never accept me as the killer, anyway,” smirked my mom. “I’m next in line to be a lecturer. Maybe this death will bring about the old days, and this conference will finally start bringing in top witches - such as myself - again.”
She thought she was protected because she was going to be a lecturer? Could she have killed Margot to bring back the old rules, that lead to a more deadly event?
I looked at my phone as it buzzed a second time. It was Drake again. Could something be wrong?
“Uh, hey, Drake,” I said, answering the call and taking a few steps away from the others. “Now’s not really a good time.”
“Dan just told me your mom is in town,” he said.
I let out a sigh. Bridgette must have told her husband that she saw my mom, who then mentioned it to Drake. I didn’t want anyone to know, especially him.
“Well, she’s really just passing through,” I said, not exactly lying. Hopefully she’d be gone again once the conference was finished.
“I know we’re still kind of early in our relationship, but I’d love to meet her!”
“I don’t know,” I said, nervously cracking my fingers. That would be disastrous. “She’s going to be gone after tonight, I think.”
“That’s fine!” he said. “I’d love to take you both out for dinner tonight!”
I turned to see my mom walk over, watching me.
“Who is Drake?” she asked loudly.
“Oh… you haven’t told her about me…” mumbled Drake.
I tried to cover the phone with my hand, accidentally nudging the speaker option. “Mom, not now.”
“Are you dating someone? Is he your boyfriend?”
“I get it if you don’t want to meet up since you haven’t told her about me,” he said, a ping of hurt in his voice.
With shocking speed, my mom yanked the phone out of my hand.
“Oh, I was just playing, Drake. Of course she’s told me about you,” she laughed, taking the phone off speaker. I tried to take the phone back, but she reached her hand out, palm facing me.
Seeing what was coming, I tried to counterspell, but was too late. A gust of wind sent me flying back twenty feet and over the setup chairs.
“Ow,” I said, getting back up to my feet. What kind of parents casts spells on their kids?
“I would love for all three of us to grab dinner tonight,” smiled my mom, waving at me. “And please, call me Melina.”
I jogged
back up towards her, keeping my mind as blank as I could in case I needed to try to counterspell her again. It was too late, though. She got what she wanted.
“That time is perfect. We’ll see you there,” smiled my mom. She handed the phone back to me, saying loudly, “Here’s Zoey!”
I glared at my mom, putting the phone back to my ear. “Sorry about that. She can be… a bit much.”
“No, I thought that went great!” he said. “Looking forward to seeing you and your mom in a couple hours!”
“M-Me too…” I said, trying my best to feign excitement as I hung up. This was going to be a horrible dinner, and Drake had no clue. I turned back to my mom, glaring. “Thanks for that.”
“Anytime,” she smiled. “Anyway, you can go and talk to the transmutation lecturer if you really don’t believe me. I was in her class the whole time.”
“Maybe I will,” I said.
“I do need to get going,” said my mom, glancing back at the side door. “We can meet up here again in a little over two hours. Like all the other witches here, I used my teleportation stone to get to the conference. We’ll have to use your car to meet Drake at the restaurant.”
“Where is it that you’re going?” I asked. “The conference is on hold, so there aren’t any more classes going on.”
“I’m going to meet with some old friends,” she said, before lowering her voice and leaning closer to me. “I recommend that you get out of here soon, too.”
“Why?” I asked, feeling my heart skip a beat. Did my mom know something I didn’t?
“Because that is not a flattering outfit for you to go one a date in,” she whisper back. “You should probably head home and change.”
I glared as she walked away and through the side door. I wish I could think of a way to cancel dinner with Drake, but it was probably too late.
“You know, I think humans have counseling or something that you two could go to,” said Allen. “I think there might some… unresolved… issues that you two have.”
“We’re fine,” I said. “We do this thing where we don’t talk or see each other for more than a day every decade or so.”
“That doesn’t seem damaging,” said Bart.
The Wrong Witch: Twistchapel Cozy Mystery Book 6 Page 4
