The Midsummer Murders

by Jill Nojack

  “No. She was in a hurry. When I put a bee in someone’s ear, it stings. I don’t remember her stopping for anything.” Her eyes rolled to the right for a moment, recalling, then flicked back to Natalie’s. “But there was a second customer in the shop, now that I think about it.” Lilith slapped a hand on the counter, hard. “I should have realized! She followed the girl out. She must have seen what she had on offer.”

  “And that customer was?”

  “I never occurred to me there was a connection.” Lilith made a sour face. “It was Raven.”

  “Thank you. You’ve been most helpful.” Natalie pivoted on one heel as she turned, eager to be away now that what she suspected had been confirmed. She wouldn’t have to make her case to Robert for full access to the evidence on the unreliable testimony of Twink’s dream. Then she stopped and added, “Oh, and just so you’re aware, if I find you sneaking around William now that you know he’s returned, I’ll have your guts for garters, dear.”

  ***

  Natalie flipped the sign to closed as she entered Cat’s Magical Shoppe. Her eyes scanned for customers. She didn’t see any, so she made a quick tour through the shelves to make sure.

  Two members of the choir, Sarah and her partner Prudence, huddled together over one of the bins of herbs, talking excitedly, “Dittany! How much should we get? If we use it with roses—”

  “Sarah, Prudence,” Natalie interrupted. “Out.”

  “But dittany! It sells out so fast. Just let us grab some and—” Sarah began.

  “Now. I won’t say it again.” Natalie glared.

  The women grasped hands under the implied threat and hurried toward the door.

  Gillian’s voice followed them with, “I’ll hold some for you!”

  Gillian and Cassie had been working on a batch of small, woven good luck charms that were strewn across the counter. They’d infuse them with their magic; that would help the charm’s wearer think before acting and show restraint instead of making snap decisions. As far as Natalie was concerned, that’s what luck was anyway.

  Gillian said, “If you keep talking to the punters like that, there won’t be anyone left to support the store. What’s crawled up your knickers this time?”

  “I need your help. I need the Triple Goddess.”

  “The Maid, Mother, and Crone ride again?” Cassie asked. “Okay, so...that usually means something big is up?”

  “As you know, I haven’t officially involved myself overmuch in the investigation of the current mysterious deaths in town.”

  Two heads nodded from across the counter, and Gillian replied, “Robert can’t understand it. He’s sure there’s magic involved.”

  “And yet, he had no explanation for how there could be magic involved when not a trace, not a drop, not an atom of it can be found at the scene or on the bodies. He has always insisted that it’s not my business unless magic is in play.”

  “And you always listen to what you’re told.” Cassie smirked.

  “Of course I don’t! Nor should you. Not blindly. It’s just that he was right this time. There was no magic. And I have enough to do making sure this town stays safe without running off on wild goose chases after natural, rather than supernatural, killers. Perhaps with our combined powers we can do better than I have been able to manage on my own.”

  “Okay, so what do you need us to do?” Cassie asked.

  “My new information points toward this being the work of a witch after all. It’s highly likely that one of Ruby Averill’s possessions may have present at each of the deaths. It’s a perfume bottle decorated with rubies that got to Giles by way of an anonymous drop off at Ling’s Things. My best guess is the bottle is the cause of the problem, but it is still only a guess.”

  “Ruby Averill?” Gillian asked, as her eyes opened wide. “Are we going up against Ruby Averill?”

  “Nothing to worry about from that quarter. She died last month. And, I hate to admit it, but Gladys—Lilith to the two of you—is right. The object at the center of my investigation may have been created by a copycat, someone who believed Ruby’s power was increased by the rubies. And perhaps it was. Unless Ruby’s grimoire also surfaces, we’ll never know for sure. But even so, we have a scene to investigate in which her lingering magic may be involved. And if it isn’t, it may be the work of a living witch—a more dangerous prospect. The probable presence of the same ruby-decorated bottle at each scene cannot be coincidence.”

  “You’re right.” Gillian relaxed a little. “Although, even with a dead witch of Ruby’s power, we must use extreme caution. There was never any question she was a dark practitioner.”

  “Yes.” Natalie’s head bobbed in agreement. “But I’m not sure what our approach should be. We’ve got to find the magic. We’ll need access to the scene of Raven’s death. I’m just unsure how to best assess it.”

  “What about the consciousness-sharing ritual that allowed the Maid, Mother, and Crone to trace the path of magic through the woods that time?” Gillian suggested.

  “Hmmmm...” Natalie said, raising a hand to rest on her chin. “That’s an interesting thought. It would—”

  “Oh, yep!” Cassie interrupted, “We’d be able to figure out the moment when the magic disappeared, right? Because you said before that there was no magic at all at the death scenes, and there should have been some still sitting around, even after the witch died. Except, ummm...yeah, second thought, that ritual wasn’t much fun.” She shook her head vehemently, thinking about how little fun she’d had the last time they used it. Like scary levels of not fun. She rethought. “No! I’m not doing that again.”

  “Yes, yes, an unpleasant experience for you. Best not to dwell on it. Gillian’s right, the ritual to join our consciousness might work.” Natalie’s brow scrunched in concentration, reviewing the idea. “But it required us to borrow the eyes of the forest to show us what we were looking for. Unless Raven kept a large number of plants—I’m sure any pets would have been removed by now—it wouldn’t be useful.”

  “Will William know if she had anything like that?”

  “I doubt it. He’s not directly involved with the investigation. It happened in Salem, and he hasn’t pushed to be more involved because of his geographic restrictions. The last thing he needs is to go “poof” with one of his fellow officers watching. But he’ll take another look at the crime scene photos, so he may be able to let us know if there’s anything in the house we can use. I’ll follow up tonight. In the meantime, we all need to keep thinking about alternatives. Be ready to go tonight if I call you.”

  “We can’t, Nat. The final planning meeting for the Midsummer Festival is tonight. It’s going to go on for hours. There’s so much left to do, and I need to make sure the shop is represented well,” Cassie said.

  “She’s right,” Gillian agreed. “And I can’t skip out early, either. It helps Robert if I can be there to run interference with some of the more demanding shop owners about their arrangements. He doesn’t need the stress. Yes, he pretends everything is fine, but I’m worried about him. He’s distracted and unfocused. I can’t even consider not being there.”

  “Fine, then. Try to get along without me. I’ll do some further research and hope I can keep everyone from being turned into piles of sand before then. Tomorrow night?”

  “I’m good with that,” Cassie replied.

  Gillian nodded. “Also me.”

  Natalie stalked out, cataloging and reviewing all the spells she’d used or read about over the course of her lifetime. One of them had to produce answers. Witches’ lives depended on it.

  ***

  “Taylor residence. Marcus speaking.”

  “Hey Marcus!” a female voice replied, “I’m so glad I got you instead of your mean old grandmother.”

  “Okay,” he said tentatively, not recognizing the voice.

  “It’s Mindy,” she continued.

  “Oh, hi.” He’d intentionally not given her his number when she’d given him hers, and he
kept telling Twink that Mindy wasn’t interested in him, but if she was calling him out of the blue by looking up the landline....

  “I have great news about that perfume bottle Twink wanted.”

  Good. She was calling about Twink, not to get around Twink. “Yeah?”

  “It’s back in the shop. You want first shot at it for her birthday present, or do you want me to call her instead?”

  “I want it! Wrap it up and I’ll come get it.”

  “You mean now?”

  “You at the shop?”

  “I could be. If you take me to Salem for ice cream after. I’m dying, absolutely dying, for salted caramel in a waffle cone, and Dad says no way can I have the car just for that. He thinks I haven’t been driving long enough to go out on my own at night. I can’t wait until my mom makes him get me my own car. He’ll cave pretty soon, but until then, I gotta beg rides from friends where I can. And most of my friends are in Salem so they don’t like to come all the way out here twice just so we can get a cone.”

  Good again. She clearly said friends. “Sure, I can do that. Ice cream is something I can always get behind, and Twink is in Boston with her cousin tonight seeing a band they both like, so I have some free time. I can’t stand that band.”

  “Krewl Kewl? I heard they were playing.”

  “Yeah, that’s them.”

  “I can’t stand ‘em, either. We have so much in common! See you in about an hour at the shop?”

  Marcus glanced at the time, then put the phone back to his ear. “That works. I’ll be there.”

  He went back to the kitchen and read a book while waiting for the roasted chicken to be ready to come out of the oven. Tom Sanders had given him one of the recipes from the diner, and he was sure his Gram would like it. It would be out of the oven in about ten minutes, and she’d promised that if he did the cooking, she’d be on time for dinner. She usually made it when she gave her promise, as long as she wasn’t stopped by cops or curses.

  He heard the front door open.

  Good. He set the salads he’d just made on the table, leaving the one he’d prepared for Bill—who was sure to be “just passing by” at dinner time—in the fridge.

  The two of them. Sometimes it was like they were the teenagers.

  ***

  Natalie was already heading up the stairs when she processed the enticing scent filling her home—chicken and herbs, cooking to perfection. She backed up and zoomed to the kitchen, realizing that she was, in fact, quite hungry now that her head wasn’t locked exclusively into the pursuit of arcane magic. But she would have to go back on her promise to Marcus.

  When she reached the kitchen, the table was set, and he was just moving the chicken from the roasting pan to a platter.

  “I know I said we’d have dinner together tonight, but there’s been another death. I have to put my head into the family books to try to find a ritual that will allow me to look beyond the surface of the scene. But make me a plate, and I’ll appreciate your efforts while I study.”

  “It’s the same as the last two? The death?” he asked, as he placed a plate with chicken and vegetables next to the salad bowl.

  “Yes. And if you’ve stowed extra salad in the fridge by some odd chance, add it to yours. William is banished for the night. Send him away if he stops by unannounced.”

  “Not doing that,” Marcus replied, pulling the plate back from where he held it out to her. “You’ve got a phone. If there’s a chance he’ll stop by, you tell him. Disappointing Bill is your job, not mine.”

  Her eyes narrowed, and she wove her fingers together across her narrow chest, then untangled them and took her phone from her pocket. She did have to remind him he needed to remain focused on finding the bottle. She could kill two birds with the same digital stone. She tapped in the words, mouthing curses as she backspaced several times to start again, then returned it to its original space.

  “There. Taken care of.” She held out a hand for the plate, which he handed to her with a smirk. That boy and that smirk. He certainly knew how to keep her on her toes.

  “I’m going out tonight anyway, if it’s okay. I’ll be back early. I’m picking up Twink’s birthday present and then heading into Salem for ice cream.”

  “I thought Twink was in Boston tonight.”

  “She is. I’m going with a friend, Mindy Li.”

  “I see. And Twink would approve of this?”

  “Probably not. But she should. She can’t keep getting crazy every time a girl talks to me. If she can go out without me, I can go out without her.”

  Natalie locked down her face into what she hoped was an unreadable expression to avoid broadcasting her dismay. It was the boy’s decision who he saw and who he didn’t, but this did not seem like his wisest relationship decision. “Maybe you should mention it to her beforehand?”

  “I can’t. I’m only going because Mindy’s doing me a favor opening up the shop tonight so I can pick up the gift. She wanted a ride over to Salem in exchange. So I can’t tell Twink. She’ll want to know what the favor was, and then I’ll end up telling her because she won’t leave me alone about it, and it would wreck everything.”

  “I see. Well, she does have a passion for pretty things. I hope you’ve chosen wisely if you’re willing to risk her ire.”

  “I have. For sure. She’ll love it.”

  “That reminds me I need to think of something suitable as a gift myself.” She turned to the kitchen arch to head back up the stairs, her full plate in hand, but turned back to say, “Do you think she’d like some of our dessicated supplies? The more expensive ones she’d have trouble stretching to on her own? Exotic insects? A batwing or two, perhaps. It would help her craft. I could teach her more complex spells that require a touch of animal nature to succeed.”

  “Sure. I think what she’d really like is a couple of slimy toads, though. I mean, it’s her birthday. Go big,” he deadpanned.

  She glared at him, then hid her own smirk as she turned away again. It was clear she needed to put a little more thought into it.

  ***

  Cassie’s voice sliced through the general hubbub at the council table where Robert and Gillian were meeting with the local shop owners. “Does anyone know if Bob Crowley will let us set up parking in his field this year? Because I drove by there this past week, and it looks like he’s planted it out.”

  “Has he?” Gillian looked concerned. “If so, that’s going to be a problem. We don’t have enough parking to accommodate the festival without it. I just assumed.”

  Heads nodded at the table. “I saw the same thing,” the owner of the Toadstone Tavern said. “I thought the committee already knew about it and had made other arrangements.”

  “No,” Gillian said. “It’s the first I’ve heard of it. Robert?” she asked, turning to him.

  “I haven’t talked to Crowley. I can’t believe we’re only two days away, and we won’t have anywhere for visitors to park.”

  He looks tired, Cassie thought. She was used to him being sharp and full of energy. Just like Natalie, who’d been in his grade at their one-room schoolhouse in Giles as children. Cassie never thought of either of them as old. But Gillian was right to worry. Robert didn’t look good. Even his voice was weak, tired. Worn out.

  He didn’t need any more stress, that’s what Gillian said. Cassie had an answer.

  “We can put the overflow parking out at the campgrounds in Giles Woods.”

  “That’s a hike to get into town,” someone said. “Who’s gonna want to walk all that way? Crowley’s field has always been the best choice since it butts up against Giles Road and it’s a quick, straight shot into downtown.”

  “We can ferry people back and forth. Cat’s Magical Shoppe will rent a passenger van and donate it to the festival, but we’ll need a driver. Someone who isn’t busy with their own businesses downtown.”

  “The city can supply a driver from the festival traffic control fund,” Robert said. “The pound is closed during th
e festival. I’ll ask Junior Rangel. I’m sure he’ll be happy to have the hours.”

  “I do not like the idea of Junior Rangel,” a woman’s voice said. Cassie turned to see Ling Li standing up to speak, her round face wearing a look of disapproval. “He is not a reputable person. Should we not put our best foot forward as a town?”

  “Junior is perfectly reputable,” Lavinia Green replied. “You just don’t like him because your daughter stole my Fluffy, and he took her back.”

  “Your dog was abandoned. It would have starved without my daughter finding it.”

  “No, she would have come home if your daughter hadn’t locked her up in your shed. She always comes home.”

  “No matter. I do not wish to argue about a dog. But Junior is a drunk. He should not be the first face people see when they come to this town.”

  “Junior doesn’t drink anymore. He’s done with that,” Another voice chimed in. “I hadn’t seen him sober since we were fifteen until a little over a month ago, but he sure is sober now. And who are you to say who should represent the town? You and your family have only been here for five minutes. I have friends in Salem, you know. And people talk. Strange how your Caucasian husband has an oriental name. Did he take yours instead of you taking his? Because who in Giles with any sense would have anything to do with an Averill? Bunch of stuck up, evil busybodies, that bunch.”

  There was a collective intake of breath among certain “musical” members of the crowd, and their eyes turned to Ling Li, waiting for a confirmation or a denial. They got neither.

  “Fine,” she said. “If Mr. Rangel is not drinking anymore, then I do not object to him. I only want my beloved adopted town to be able to put its best foot forward.”

  Cassie’s eyes moved to Gillian’s. It was clear from her expression that Gillian hadn’t known about Ling’s Averill connection. And if neither of them had, Natalie hadn’t either.

  16

  “I told you I do not know how the bottle came to me!”

  “But you’re an Averill? At least, your husband is?” Natalie demanded.