Curse of the Witch

by K E O'Connor

  Esmeralda shook her head. “It wasn’t an illness making her distant. If you ask me, dark magic was draining her.”

  There were several gasps from around the table.

  “Bastille didn’t use dark magic,” Auntie Queenie said.

  “That you know of,” Esmeralda said. “She wasn’t suffering a physical illness, but she was losing herself to the darkness. The signs were there, the pale skin, nervousness, withdrawal from society. She was in trouble.”

  “That can’t be right,” Lila said. “I never saw her using anything dark, and I never felt anything toxic from her. Dark magic leaves a residue, no matter how careful you are. It stains you like ink.”

  “There are cloaking spells that hide dark magic use,” I said. It hadn’t been so long ago that I’d encountered a member of my own bar staff who’d concealed her use of dark magic under a clever spell. She’d fooled us all.

  Lila shrugged. “If Bastille was using dark magic, I don’t blame her. She was desperate to find something to make her feel better. Perhaps she turned to the dark arts as a last resort. She felt like she had no other option. She longed to be well, and nothing worked for her.”

  “Whatever her health problems were, she’s at peace now,” Esmeralda said.

  “If you consider being murdered peaceful,” Auntie Queenie said.

  Esmeralda’s expression tightened. “I meant no longer in pain.”

  Auntie Queenie sniffed. “She could have asked for help.”

  “She was proud and fiercely independent,” Lila said. “You know that.”

  Auntie Queenie shuffled her cutlery around on the table. “I do. She never liked to complain.”

  Lila looked at me. “So, the angels aren’t close to charging anyone?”

  I glanced toward the restroom. Caprice had yet to return. “Would you be surprised if I suggested Caprice as the killer?”

  Nobody spoke for several seconds as they exchanged worried glances.

  Esmeralda was the first to speak. “Caprice has power.”

  “No, I can’t believe that,” Samantha said. “Caprice is a good witch. She’s not a killer.”

  “If not Caprice, then what about you?” Esmeralda asked.

  “What about me?” Samantha stiffened in her seat.

  “What’s your alibi for the time of Bastille’s murder?”

  Samantha’s gaze shifted to me. “I have an excellent alibi. I’ve already told Tempest and the angels.”

  I nodded, deciding not to share her late-night meeting with Toby. That was her secret to tell.

  Samantha glared at Esmeralda. “If we’re pointing fingers, then what were you doing sneaking out of your room late at night? Going to the garden to see Bastille?”

  Esmeralda’s jaw dropped. “Absolutely not. I visited Lila. I couldn’t sleep and knew Lila stayed up late. I went to her room, and we had cocoa together.”

  I looked at Lila, and she nodded. “That’s right. We sat up chatting for a while. I must admit I was tired and dozed off a couple of times, but that’s what happened. We were with each other. After we finished our cocoa, we both went to bed.”

  There were the alibis I’d been missing. Esmeralda and Lila were together when Bastille was killed.

  “What have I missed?” Caprice sat back in her seat and looked around. Her smile faded. “What’s wrong? Don’t tell me I have toilet paper stuck to the back of my pants?”

  “We were talking about Bastille’s murder,” Esmeralda said. “Remind us again what your alibi was?”

  Caprice blinked rapidly. “You know my alibi. I was asleep. After we finished partying, I returned to my room the same as all of you and went to bed. I didn’t stir all night.”

  “We only have your word for that,” Esmeralda said.

  “Now, now,” Lila said swiftly. “We’re not accusing anybody of anything. We’re just getting to the bottom of what happened to Bastille.”

  “You think I had something to do with it?” Caprice leaned back in her seat, a look of horror on her face. “Why would I kill her? We were friends.”

  “You teased her. You made fun of the fact she had to buy second-hand,” Samantha said. “I told you off about that several times, but you still kept on.”

  “That was our way,” Caprice said. “Bastille accused me of being snooty, so I teased her about, well, not having much money.”

  “Of being poor.” Samantha shook her head. “That’s not funny. It upset Bastille.”

  “She never said anything to me about being upset,” Caprice said. “If I’d thought I was hurting her feelings, I’d have stopped. I meant nothing by it. I’d always help her out if she ever got into difficulty.”

  “Bastille would never have asked you for money,” Samantha said. “It’s why she came to me when she couldn’t pay her medical bill. She knew what you’d say to her. You’d tease her about her lack of savings.”

  Caprice clutched her champagne flute. “Of course I’d have paid her medical bills if she was in debt. None of us wanted to see Bastille struggle financially. But she chose that life. She didn’t need to seclude herself and work part-time. It wasn’t my fault she was poor.”

  “It was your fault that you kept prodding her about it,” Samantha said.

  Caprice glared at her. “Why are you all picking on me?”

  “We’re not.” Lila looked around the group and sighed. “But we’re all anxious to find out what happened.”

  “As am I.” Caprice flung her napkin on the table. “I can tell you this right now. I didn’t kill Bastille. I loved her the same as any of you. Sure, we bickered, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t like her. Queenie argued with her much more than I did. Why don’t you call the angels in to arrest her?”

  Auntie Queenie opened her mouth to argue, but I grabbed her arm and shook my head.

  “Everybody take a breath,” Lila said. “We’re all getting worked up about nothing. We trust each other, and we all have alibis.”

  “Some of us have better alibis than others,” Auntie Queenie muttered.

  “We need to look outside our circle for the killer,” Lila said.

  “It seems you’re doing the exact opposite.” Caprice stood and shoved her chair back.

  “Don’t go,” Lila said. “We can’t fall out about this. We need each other.”

  “It looks like that’s exactly what we need to do.” Caprice grabbed her purse and stormed out of the restaurant.

  I exchanged a surprised glance with Auntie Queenie.

  She shrugged. “We’ve touched a nerve.”

  “No, she’s just upset.” Lila looked at the door as it swung shut behind Caprice. “Although, it is out of character. Caprice is usually so happy-go-lucky.”

  “Why run if you’re not guilty?” Samantha arched an eyebrow and took a sip of champagne.

  I looked at Caprice’s empty seat.

  Samantha was right. Caprice’s behavior suggested she had something to hide. It made her look guilty, but how could I prove that?

  Chapter 12

  I headed to the hotel the next morning with a freshly bathed and sweet-smelling Wiggles to speak to Caprice.

  Despite the best efforts of the group, they hadn’t been able to get Caprice to return to the restaurant last night. In the end, we’d stayed and eaten, but everyone was mourning the loss of Bastille and not in the mood for fun.

  The party had broken up early, with promises to meet the next day and get to the bottom of what happened to Bastille.

  I’d been tempted to visit Caprice last night and ask her why she’d stormed off but decided she needed a night to cool down. Everyone showed their grief in different ways, but she shouldn’t have reacted so sharply. We were all under the spotlight for Bastille’s murder, and Caprice knew she’d have to face questioning, just like the rest of us.

  “You’re looking handsome today,” I said to Wiggles.

  “I’m still not talking to you.”

  I tilted my head, tempted to point out that was exactly what
he was doing. “Did you enjoy your stew?”

  “Yes.”

  “And your bath?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you want to know if I found the killer?”

  Wiggles snorted. “If you had, we wouldn’t be up so early, marching around before we’d had anything to eat.”

  It looked like I had some making up to do with my hellhound. “How about a muffin?”

  “Make it a tray of muffins, and I might be open to negotiations.”

  I shook my head as I walked into the hotel reception to find the owner, Tabitha Dimples, behind the desk. Her glasses were perched on the top of her head as she smiled up at me.

  “Tempest, how’s everything? How’s your auntie doing? I bet she’s in shock after what happened to her friend.”

  “She is. We’re doing our best to figure out what happened. Actually, that’s why I’m here. I was hoping to speak to Caprice. Have you seen her around?”

  “I have. She was up early today. She left about an hour ago.”

  My eyes widened. “Left as in checked out?”

  “Oh, no. She said she couldn’t sleep and was going for a walk and to get breakfast. She’ll be back.”

  I let out a relieved sigh. For a second, I thought Caprice was making a run for it. “You’re sure about that?”

  “Absolutely. Her room’s been cleaned, and her things are there.” Tabitha sucked in a breath. “Why? You don’t think she’s got anything to do with what happened in my beautiful garden, do you?”

  “No. But I have a few questions to ask her.”

  Tabitha shook her head. “It’s a tragedy. All my flowers are dying. I think they’re in mourning, too.”

  “They are?”

  Tabitha nodded. “Flowers are sensitive to bad vibes. I’ll have to get some cleansing magic from Aurora’s store to remove the negativity. And there’s nothing like a murder to bring down the reputation of an establishment.”

  “I’m sure Bastille would agree. She’d much rather be alive and eating a croissant from the buffet than her cold body being pored over by the angels.”

  “Oh! Of course. That was insensitive.” Tabitha pulled her glasses from her head and placed them on her nose. “I’m sad about what happened. I just wish it hadn’t been here. I don’t want to get a reputation for running a haunted hotel.”

  “You never know. It could be good for business.”

  Tabitha peered at me from over the top of her glasses. “Business is just fine as it is.”

  I repressed a smile. Some people coming to Willow Tree Falls might expect to see a ghost or two. “I’ll come back later and see if Caprice has returned.”

  I tapped my fingers against my arm. I couldn’t put it off any longer. It was time to pay a visit to someone who left a bad taste in my mouth. I needed to confirm Samantha’s alibi, and that meant a visit to Toby Matlock. I was also interested to see his reaction when I mentioned his relationship with Samantha. I had to make sure he wasn’t cheating on my sister.

  We left the hotel and walked to the other end of the village, where all the expensive houses were built. It was a short walk, but every step took me closer to luxury I could never afford.

  Wiggles wolf-whistled as we approached Toby’s house. “Here’s a guy who knows how to spend too much money.”

  I had to agree. Toby’s house was an enormous three-story building. There were brick chimneys on either end and a gravel driveway that curved around a lawn large enough to build several more houses on. Giant stone dragons sat atop pillars at the entrance of the driveway.

  “I can see why your sister is into this guy,” Wiggles said. “He’s got more money than sense.”

  “Aurora’s not that kind of woman. If Toby doesn’t treat her well, she won’t stick around, no matter how loaded he is.”

  “It happens. Money attracts hot women. And a lot of money makes plain, boring guys handsome. Even a mean guy can be tolerated if he showers you in giant dog bones.”

  “I get that, but Aurora has her own money. She’s a successful business woman.”

  “She doesn’t have this kind of money. Aurora doesn’t have giant stone dragons sitting outside her door. And if I’m not mistaken, that car is worth more than everything you own times about a hundred.” Wiggles ambled over to a sleek, black car.

  I had no clue about cars, but this one looked fancy. Few people drove in Willow Tree Falls. Everything was easy enough to walk to, and magic often interfered with electrical equipment.

  “Let’s hope Mr. Fancy Pants lets us in, looking like this,” Wiggles said. “I should have worn my bow tie.”

  I resisted the urge to smooth my hair and check if there was mud on my boots. Toby would have to take us as he found us. I knocked on his door, and we waited.

  I looked at Wiggles. “Sorry about not helping you out of that hole. I didn’t think you were in trouble. I did look for you.”

  He inspected an urn by the door. “I know. I heard you calling.”

  “You should have shouted. I’d have found you.”

  Wiggles wriggled his nose. “I might have found an interesting smell. I didn’t want to be distracted.”

  My eyes widened. “You little sneak. You’ve made me feel terrible, and all the time, you could have come when I called you. You fell into that hole after I left because your nose led you into a trap.”

  He glanced up at me. “The hole had a currant bun at the bottom. I couldn’t leave that for anyone else to find.”

  “I thought you said the scary hole had a snake in it.”

  “There was a sharp stick. In the right light, it looked like a snake.”

  “So you fell in the hole because you were after food?”

  He shuffled his paws. “I might have climbed in and gotten stuck.”

  I snorted a laugh. “Was the bun worth it?”

  “Not really, it was stale.” Wiggles nudged me with his nose. “Anyway, apology accepted.”

  “Apology taken back,” I muttered.

  A seven-foot butler with a blank expression on his long, pale face opened the door. He peered down at us without speaking.

  I cleared my throat. “Hi, there. We’re here to see Toby. Is he in?”

  “Name?” The zombie-faced butler’s voice resonated in his broad chest.

  “Tempest Crypt and Wiggles.”

  “Do you have a meeting?”

  “Nope, just passing and wanted to say hi.”

  He nodded before pushing the door shut in our faces.

  “I’ve never seen him before,” Wiggles said. “Do you think he’s alive?”

  “His skin is weirdly pale. Maybe Toby made him in his creepy lab in the basement.”

  “Built from the body parts of his victims.” Wiggles shuddered.

  My eyebrows shot up. “What victims?”

  “You know, all the people who’ve crossed him. I bet Toby doesn’t do the killings himself. Maybe his butler does it for him. Toby’s built himself a lethal assassin.”

  I stared at the door, wondering if it would be rude to make a run for it. “I’m sure he’s a lovely guy when you get to know him. He’s just on the large side.”

  “The creepy large side. Have you ever read Frankenstein?”

  “Have you?”

  “I watched the movie. This is Frankenstein’s monster, the twenty-first century version.”

  “Toby is not Doctor Frankenstein.” But he was an enigma and one I was determined to get to the bottom of if he continued to date Aurora.

  The door opened again, and the butler gestured us inside.

  I looked around and failed to prevent my jaw from dropping. We’d stepped inside a palace. The walls were a sumptuous deep red, and my boots sunk into the thick carpet.

  “This way.” The butler turned and walked ahead of us, his long arms hanging loosely by his sides.

  Before I could stop him, Wiggles bounded ahead and walked alongside the butler, looking him up and down. He sniffed his leg and backed away.

  I s
hook my head as I took in the rest of the surroundings. I was no expert, but the oil paintings and vases I passed looked ancient and expensive.

  The butler stopped by a door and knocked before pushing it open. He gestured for us to go in.

  I poked my head inside. Toby sat behind a large carved oak desk. He was in a library, the walls covered in books, and an enormous fireplace dominating one wall.

  “Tempest, what a delightful surprise.” Toby pushed back his chair and stood. “Do come in.”

  I entered the room. “Nice place you’ve got.”

  “It suits my needs.” Toby looked down, and his smile faded. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but no animals are allowed in the house. It’s my allergies, you see.”

  I’d forgotten Toby wasn’t a fan of Wiggles. I looked at him. “Are you okay to wait outside?”

  “He’s welcome to go in the garden, so long as he promises not to make a mess.” Toby waved Wiggles back with a hand. “Feodor! We have an issue.”

  The huge butler appeared in the doorway.

  “Take this dog outside and keep an eye on him.”

  “I don’t need keeping an eye on,” Wiggles grumbled.

  “I mean, keep an eye on my plants. Some of them are valuable. I’ve cultivated them for years. I’d hate to see any... accidents happen.”

  “I don’t trust the zombie butler,” Wiggles muttered to me. “He might make me his next meal.”

  “You’ll be fine. Just keep out of his reach.”

  Wiggles gave Toby the stink eye before turning and stomping out of the library. Feodor closed the door, leaving us alone.

  “What do I owe this honor?” Toby gestured to a couch.

  I perched on the edge of it. “Since things are getting serious with Aurora, it would be good to get to know each other better, just the two of us.”

  Toby reclined on his own couch and crossed one leg over the other. His smile looked indulgent and a little smug. “You’re right to be protective of Aurora. She’s a beautiful, charming woman. I know many men who are interested in her. I consider myself fortunate that she has chosen me. I adore your sister. She’s delightful company, and I couldn’t be happier.”

  “I like Aurora too. But I’m worried about how fast things are moving between you.” I shifted on the couch. Despite the comfy padding, I couldn’t get settled. “There’s talk of you moving in together.”