Murder & Macarons (A Stella Storm Cozy Witch Mystery Book 2)

by Amy Casey

  I got closer to the holding cell. But I couldn’t stop myself looking over my shoulder. I couldn’t stop looking around. Because there was something wrong about that figure I’d seen. Something distinctly creepy.

  A hell of a lot creepier than me in a clown costume, anyway.

  I stood at the door to the holding cell. Held my breath.

  I knew this was a risk.

  The ultimate risk.

  But I knew it was something I had to do.

  I took a deep breath, well aware that this could be dangerous. Because Thomas was magic. He was magic and he was no doubt more powerful than me.

  And he might just be a killer.

  If what Steve had told me was true… he might just be a killer.

  But hell. If I wasn’t going to hear him out, who would?

  I initiated a bout of formlessness and I stepped through the holding cell door, inside it.

  Thomas looked up at me right away—even if my invisibility was still active.

  “Hello, Stella,” he said. “I’m guessing you have a lot of questions for me.”

  Chapter 26

  So. Never expected I’d see you again. At least, not so soon after… well. That meal, anyway.”

  I listened to Thomas’ voice, and I was surprised how calm he seemed. But to be honest, even in the darkness, I could tell he didn’t look his best. He was pale when I’d last met him, but he looked a whole lot worse now. His hands were in cuffs, and he was leaning against the wall like he was waiting for something—some way of getting out of here.

  “Can’t you just, like, magic your way out of these walls?”

  Thomas smirked. “We can’t magic our way out of everything, Stella.”

  The way he said that, the way he smiled… it made me realise there was a lot about magic I still didn’t understand. Not even close.

  I looked back at him then. Thought about making a joke. Just something to break the ice. Then I realised I wasn’t here to crack jokes, or to break any kind of ice. I was here to learn the truth. “Let’s not beat around the bush,” I said.

  “Never found beating around the bush useful myself. I’m just surprised it was you my family sent to free me. I must’ve made a good impression.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “I’m not here to free you.”

  Thomas looked at me for a few seconds, visible confusion on his face.

  Then he smiled and shook his head. “Ah. That’s how this is. You’re not here to free me at all. You’re here to interrogate me.”

  “There are questions,” I said.

  “And there are answers to those questions. Some of them won’t be the answers you want to hear. But they are answers, nonetheless.”

  I thought about what Steve had told me. The shocking truth about why Thomas was inside after all. “You were at the wedding. Why?”

  Thomas twiddled with some of the material at the edge of his bed, like he was biding his time. Then he shrugged. “I’m always a sucker for a royal occasion like that. Besides, I was in town. So why not?”

  “Don’t bullshit me, Thomas. You were at the wedding, and according to the detectives, your fingerprints were found all over Andy Carter. When they stopped you going back to Nightthistle to investigate you, they found a large dose of poison in your possession. Andy Carter is dead and you’re in the spotlight. Don’t try telling me you came back here and this was just some sort of coincidence.”

  “Don’t you believe in coincidences?”

  “Not ones like these.”

  He smiled again. And it struck me just how different Thomas was, especially now he was out of his comfort zone, and lacking the control he so desperately valued. “I was at the wedding because I had to meet someone.”

  “And was that ‘someone’ Andy Carter?”

  “It was in fact him, yes.”

  That threw me a little. So much so that I didn’t know what to say next.

  “Derailed your trail of thought, hmm?”

  My mouth went dry. Was this an admission? Some kind of admission of guilt? “What… why were you talking to him?”

  Thomas stood up then. He walked over to me. And I felt my skin turning cold. Felt like turning away, backing out of this completely. Because I’d heard what I wanted to hear. I didn’t have to hear any more.

  He looked into my eyes, studied me closely.

  “I can smell your fear, you know? And I have to be frank. It is rather disheartening. I thought we got along so nicely at dinner the other night.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m starting to think maybe Aunt Hilda’s the good one after all.”

  Thomas laughed a little. “Oh, she is. She’s good. A little unhinged, but good. Far too good to have me as a son, anyway. But hey. I’ve tried my best. It’s just sometimes, the best isn’t enough. You know that too, don’t you?”

  I thought about my sleuthing. I thought about all the help I’d provided the police, only to be pushed back, time and time again. I couldn’t help but identify.

  “I was meeting Andy Carter because many years ago, he saw something he shouldn’t have seen.”

  “What did he see?”

  Thomas turned around. Looked right at me. “He saw Nightthistle.”

  I frowned. “But I thought only the magic could see places like that.”

  “And how do you know Andy Carter didn’t have any magic in him?”

  I didn’t know what to say. “I’m confused.”

  “Andy Carter was a changeling.”

  “A what?”

  “A changeling. Jesus, Stella, your paranormal knowledge really is weak, isn’t it?”

  “Just explain to me what a changeling is and stop stalling.”

  “Okay, okay. We have reason to believe that the real Andy Carter was taken away at birth, probably by some malevolent force that had been paid off by a family of trolls.”

  I blinked. “Sorry, I’m really not following here.”

  Thomas sighed. “You’re making it harder work than it should be. Just think of it this way. The man you knew as Andy Carter was a troll. Troll families usually feel like humans can raise their young better than them, so they do a deal with the… well, let’s just say they do a deal with the bad forces. And as a result, the child born of Roger and Eleanor Carter was taken away to a dark dimension, and in its place, young Andy Carter was planted.”

  “So Andy Carter was a troll?”

  “Bingo,” Thomas said. “Only later in life, Andy received his calling—a trip to a small town near Nightthistle to visit his new family. Problem was, Andy wasn’t interested in becoming a troll. He was too intelligent for that lifestyle. So he broke free and escaped. Only problem? Troll children don’t get a choice. They stay in the magic world or they die.”

  “So Andy’s family might’ve killed him somehow?”

  “Perhaps,” Thomas said. “But… aside from that. Andy was a menace. We kept a close eye on him and there were so many times we thought about paying him a visit, reminding him that Nightthistle must remain secret, no matter what.

  “Anyway. When things weren’t going quite as well for him and money started running low, he saw an opportunity. An opportunity to expose a secret.”

  “The secret of Nightthistle,” I said.

  “Exactly,” Thomas said. “So I came to pay him a visit. To have a… very stern word with him. To remind him that he wasn’t the first person to threaten to expose our town. And that there were repercussions if he did. Always.”

  “So you killed him?” I said.

  Thomas looked insulted. “Me? God no. But somebody did. And here we are.”

  As much as I found it hard to believe that Thomas had visited to have a “stern word” with Andy and yet somehow hadn’t killed him—as much as that motive added up—I found myself believing him. And I knew that was dangerous.

  “Then how did that poison you had on you get in his body?”

  Thomas half-smiled. “I said I didn’t kill him. I didn’t say anything about not slipping something into hi
s drink in order to wipe his memory.”

  Then it hit me. All of it clicked into place.

  “But I insist. As much as the police are trying to convince you otherwise… I did not kill Andy Carter. So I’ll ask you again, Stella. Do you still not believe in coincidences, and the danger they can pose?”

  I opened my mouth to respond. Because there was so much I wanted to ask Thomas. But I could see my body appearing again. And I knew I had to hurry. I knew I had to get out of here.

  “All I know is that I promised your mum that I’d make sure if you were telling the truth that I’d get you out of here, somehow.”

  “And do you believe I’m telling the truth?” Thomas asked.

  I opened my mouth again.

  Only this time, I didn’t manage to speak.

  Because the lights in the cell flickered on.

  Footsteps echoed down the corridor.

  Someone was here.

  And they were coming towards the cell.

  Chapter 27

  The second the lights flickered on and the footsteps echoed in my direction, getting closer and closer to the cell that Thomas and I were currently locked inside, I knew I had to get my shit together and hide. Fast.

  I looked around the cell. Saw the surprise on Thomas’ face. But he didn’t seem too alarmed. He was just looking at me like I was the one in the shit. And hell. He was probably bloody right. At least he was supposed to be here. I couldn’t say the same.

  The footsteps echoed ever closer. My heart raced rapidly. I knew I was running out of time.

  And then… it dawned on me.

  “I’m invisible,” I muttered, laughing a little as I spoke. “I’m standing here getting all het up and I’m actually invisible.”

  I looked over at Thomas, for some kind of moral support.

  But I could tell from the look on his face that something was amiss.

  “What?” I asked. “What is it?”

  He cleared his throat. “About that invisibility…”

  I didn’t know what he was talking about, not at first.

  And then I looked down at my hands and I realised right away why there was such concern on Thomas’ face.

  I could see my hands. I could see my arms. Dammit, I could see every bloody inch of my body.

  I wasn’t invisible. For some reason, my invisibility had elapsed.

  And I was standing here in a prime suspect’s cell trying to hold my shit together.

  “Can’t you, like, do something?” Thomas said.

  I glared over at him. “I dunno. I mean, you’re supposed to be the long-term magic dude who lives in a magic town. Can’t you tell me?”

  He shook his head like he was dismissing what I was saying, trying to figure out some kind of solution. “Well I dunno,” he said. “I mean, can’t you go invisible again?”

  “I’m sorry but is it easy for you, just turning invisible?”

  “Well. Kind of.”

  “So why aren’t you turning weightless? Why aren’t you sneaking out of here? If it’s all so easy, why are you locked up in this cell at all?”

  “Because I’ve been barred from using my abilities,” Thomas said.

  He spat the words out suddenly and violently. But when he spoke them, I got the sense that he hadn’t intended to speak them at all.

  I narrowed my eyes. The footsteps were getting closer. “What?”

  “I… I did something. Something that made the magic overlords somewhat hesitant to grant me abilities for the time being.”

  My heart started to pound. I felt like I was getting closer to something Thomas had been withholding from me. A further truth about him and Andy Carter. “And what was that?”

  “Look, it’s not how it sounds, okay?”

  “I’ll be the judge of that.”

  Thomas lowered his head, looked at the floor. Then he looked back up at me. “I might have tried to sort of kill somebody, kind of.”

  I narrowed my eyes. I couldn’t understand what Thomas was saying. I couldn’t focus on the footsteps. I couldn’t focus on anything. “You what?” I said.

  “It was a few months ago. It wasn’t without reason. They threatened my family, and I had to do something.”

  “But what you’re saying is you have the capacity to kill.”

  “What I’m saying is that’s the reason my powers aren’t as strong as they could be. But anyway. It looks like we’ve got company.”

  I heard the footsteps stop. I waited for the lock to turn, for the handle to lower.

  And I held my breath and did everything in my power to try and force myself back to invisibility.

  But it didn’t happen.

  It wasn’t happening.

  I was too weak.

  I was screwed.

  I waited for whoever was out there to step inside. And beyond my fear that it could be the police… there was something else. That faceless figure I’d seen. The figure just like the one Krissy Palmer’s ghost had described all that time ago. Who was it? And what did it want?

  I was about to give in, preparing my excuses right away, when I heard a throat clear.

  When I opened my eyes, I was surprised to see who was standing there.

  And by the look on her face, she was just as surprised to see me.

  “Tara?” Thomas said.

  Tara turned around to Thomas, looked at him, then back at me. “When I agreed to break you out of here, brother, I didn’t exactly sign up to let her free, too.”

  Thomas walked over to Tara, hugged her, something she looked not entirely comfortable about. When Thomas backed away, he looked right at her, smiled. “I owe you so much for this.”

  “Yeah. You do. If you hadn’t gotten yourself into this mess in the first place—”

  “I know. I know.”

  Tara looked over her shoulder. Then she held out a hand. “You coming?”

  I stood there, unsure what to do, what to say.

  “Trust me, woman,” Tara said. “I’ll happily leave you in here to explain things if that’s what you want. Fact is, we’re getting out of here, sharpish. Are you coming?”

  I looked at Thomas and I remembered what he’d told me about his history with Andy Carter. And then I remembered the reasons why his abilities had been neutered. He’d tried to kill someone.

  And he hadn’t been frank about that in the first place.

  So who knew what else he could be hiding?

  I looked him in the eye and I wasn’t sure what to say, or whether to trust him. I wasn’t letting him slip off my radar. Not entirely.

  Because he was a piece of this puzzle. Whether he liked it or not.

  “Are you coming?” Tara asked.

  I took a deep breath. Swallowed a lump in my throat.

  Then I grabbed Tara’s hand.

  If there was one thing I needed, it was to get out of here.

  But Thomas wasn’t out of the picture just yet.

  Chapter 28

  I’m sure I don’t need to tell you twice that returning to Witchy Delights the next morning after the few days I’d just had wasn’t easy at all.

  It was snowing. Which was just bloody typical. I mean it looked nice and all. Made the small town of Goosridge look picturesque. But it was April. April wasn’t supposed to be snowy season. April was supposed to be the dawn of summer. It alarmed me, because it made me wonder whether we were going to have a summer after all, or whether it’d just be another write-off.

  But then I really had bigger problems on my plate at the moment than whether we were going to have a nice bloody summer or not.

  Mary was beside me. She was saying something, but I didn’t know what. Wasn’t really listening, in all truth. All I could think about was the case.

  Andy Carter’s death.

  The deal he’d made with Herbert Young and Stephen Hankinson.

  The old antagonism with my cousin, Thomas, who had gone to the party to confront him.

  What did it all mean? Where did it all link toget
her?

  I felt a sharp hot pain on my left arm and almost jumped out of my skin.

  “Ow!” I said, turning around and seeing that Mary had planted a spoon on my arm.

  “Got your attention finally?”

  “That hurt.”

  “Oh, it’s not that bad. Your mind makes it seem worse than it is because it’s shocking.”

  “Shocking?” I said, holding up my arm, which had gone red. “Does that look like my mind playing tricks to you?”

  Mary looked at it, concern on her face. Then she looked at the spoon. “Oh, damn. I think… I think I got the wrong spoon.”

  “Yeah. I think so too.”

  I turned away from Mary, served a customer. But they didn’t get the usual friendliness. Didn’t get the usual kindness. I was way, way beyond that.

  “You’re going to have to pull it together, Stella.”

  “You’re telling me to pull it together?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, I am. The way you’re acting, you’re going to put customers off.”

  “Oh, most of them are tourists anyway. We’ll probably never see them again.”

  Mary sighed. “You don’t really think that.”

  I looked at her. Got close to saying that I did. But then I found myself sighing, too. “I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s just been a—”

  “Rough few days. I get it. You’re not the only one, okay?”

  I felt guilty then. Mary did look tired. I knew she struggled with insomnia, and that insomnia sometimes spilled over into general anxiety and depression. I felt selfish for being so self-centred. Especially over a case that wasn’t even mine to solve.

  “I should be there for you more,” I said. “I’m… I’m stupid sometimes.”

  “Oh, I know what you’re like when you get your mind set on your mysteries. But hey. You just need to remember sometimes that you don’t always know best, girl. And that sometimes you don’t have to go all guns blazing on these things on your own.”

  I sighed. “You always know where I’m coming from. How are you, anyway?”

  “Oh, you know me,” Mary said. “Neurotic as hell, but I’ll get by. I always do.”