A Trick for a Treat (A Wayfair Witches' Cozy Mystery #3)

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A Trick for a Treat (A Wayfair Witches' Cozy Mystery #3) Page 11

by A. A. Albright


  ‘They both went out with Jasper,’ said Finn. ‘And even though Emily didn’t go out with him, he definitely tried it on with her. Plus, she walked his dog. That means everyone has a connection to Jasper. The victims and one of the suspects. Everyone except you. Can you think of anything, Lassie? Anything at all?’

  She growled. ‘I don’t have anything to tell you. As far as I can tell, the only reason I’m in here is because you and your Peacemaker buddies have a thing against weredogs.’

  Finn blanched. ‘I know you barely know me, Lassie. But believe me when I tell you I have nothing against you, or any other weredog. The only thing I care about is getting to the bottom of this so I can get you out of here.’

  She gave him a puzzled look, retracting her teeth. Then she turned from him and looked pleadingly at me. ‘You must have a theory about this, Wanda. You always have a theory. You figure everything out.’

  I took her hands in mine. ‘I’m going to think about this day and night, Lassie. If I have to go without sleeping, I’ll figure it out. Do you believe me?’

  She hung her head. ‘How’s Max coping?’

  ‘I haven’t seen him yet. I came here as soon as I could. Do you want me to pass on a message when I get home?’

  She blinked back tears. ‘Tell him ... tell him I love him, and I miss him. And tell him ... tell him I swear I didn’t do it.’

  I pulled her in for a hug. ‘I don’t need to tell him that, Lassie. Max knows as well as I do that you’re innocent.’

  We stayed with Lassie a short while more. I knew she was being honest, and I couldn’t think of anything else to ask her. I just hung around as long as I possibly could because I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving her there alone.

  When we left the cell, Finn approached the nearest guard. ‘If anyone so much as touches a hair on that weredog’s head,’ he said with a snarl, ‘they will answer to me.’ He grabbed his fellow Peacemaker by the collar. ‘And just so you know – I have eyes and ears everywhere.’

  13. Good Golly

  The next couple of days were miserable. Max was terrified over what might happen to Lassie. Her trial was set for the week after Halloween, and with no lawyer to fight her corner, it wasn’t looking good. He spent the time calling up all of Lassie’s friends, speaking to her housemates, trying desperately to help my coven find the reason someone would have set Lassie up. But she was popular and loved by all. And although Lassie’s flatmates swore they had never seen that potion-making equipment before, it wasn’t something I wanted them to swear to in court. Unfortunately, I was learning all about the warped way in which the Magical Law system operated. If Lassie’s flatmates said anything to defend her, it would be twisted to make them look like accomplices.

  I could see only one way to help Lassie and Emily, and that was to find the real murderer.

  On Monday morning, I woke up feeling more exhausted than I had when I went to bed. It didn’t help that there was an annoying screeching noise coming from somewhere. I groaned and kept my eyes closed, as a squeaking began to join the screeching.

  ‘Dizzy, who are you fighting with now?’

  I felt his little wings flurry around my face. He landed on my shoulder and whispered, ‘She’s about to start singing again. Cover your ears.’

  I sat up, looking around. A parrot was sitting on my windowsill. The beak opened, and the bird began to sing. Well perhaps the word sing is a bit of an exaggeration.

  ‘Good morning, good morning

  Wanda Wayfair I bid you good morning ...’

  ‘Was that a song?’ I rubbed my eyes and squinted at the bird. ‘I mean, it wasn’t very long, and it didn’t rhyme.’

  The parrot flapped its wings and said, ‘I shall sing another, then.’

  Just as it began to warble, ‘Good Golly Miss Holly,’ I covered my ears.

  ‘I take it you’re Holly Golly’s familiar, then,’ I said over the racket. ‘So maybe it’s better if you stop singing, and just tell me what you know so I can find your witch’s murderer.’

  The parrot finished its song, then alighted to my bedside table. ‘So you know why I’m here?’

  ‘Uh huh. It’s not my first rodeo. What’s your name?’

  ‘Molly Golly.’ The parrot smiled and extended a wing.

  ‘You ... want me to shake your wing?’

  ‘Oh dear.’ Molly Golly sighed. ‘You’re not really as refined as I was hoping for.’

  I was rescued from making a very rude reply by a loud knock on my door.

  ‘Are you all right, Wanda?’ came Max’s worried voice. ‘It sounded like you were being strangled in there a minute ago.’

  ‘Come on in, Max. I just have a visitor, that’s all.’

  Max entered the room, shielding his eyes, with Wolfie padding behind him. ‘It’s not Gabriel, is it?’

  I threw a cushion at him. ‘Of course it’s not Gabriel, you idiot. We’ve had one date – and I didn’t even know it was a date to begin with.’

  ‘Seriously?’ Max scrunched up his forehead and sat on my bed. ‘He never shuts up about you. How could you not know?’

  I decided not to even try and answer that one. I was just about to introduce Molly when Wolfie lunged.

  ‘You!’ snarled the dog. ‘You came to Jasper’s house. You stole my peanuts!’

  Molly rolled her eyes and flew out of the dog’s grasp. ‘I like peanuts. You had a bowl of peanuts. I took your peanuts. As a guest in your house, the correct response would have been, “Oh, I see you like peanuts, Molly. Perhaps I could fetch you some more.”’

  I grabbed Wolfie before he could lunge again. ‘So you two clearly know each other,’ I said, rubbing behind the Wolfhound’s ears to calm him down. ‘I’m guessing that your witch was one of the many female guests at Jasper Jaunt’s house, then, Molly?’

  Molly fluffed up her wings. ‘Not just any guest. The most important. I don’t think I’d be exaggerating to say that my Holly was the one who made Jasper give up on his philandering ways forever.’

  I forced my eyebrow to remain unraised. ‘Oh. That’s ... nice. Really nice. Molly, were you there when Holly bought a box of heart-shaped chocolates?’

  ‘Bought!’ The parrot let out a haughty laugh. ‘Holly Golly does not buy chocolates. Holly Golly is given chocolates. On a regular basis by her many fans and admirers.’

  Oh, my stars. I sincerely hoped I could solve this murder very quickly. ‘Of course,’ I said. ‘How could I have been so silly? So tell me, were you there when Holly received those chocolates?’

  ‘Of course. We were together in her little red corvette, driving along the cliff road and singing.’

  ‘Wait,’ Max interrupted. ‘I thought witches didn’t drive.’

  ‘Witches do not drive,’ said Molly. ‘Usually. The car was a gift from the werewolf. A declaration of his utmost undying love.’

  ‘No it wasn’t,’ said Wolfie. ‘It was just an old one Jasper had lying around.’

  The parrot held her head high. ‘As I was saying, Holly and I were driving along, singing together, when the chocolates appeared on the dashboard with a very romantic note. I shall sing what we were singing at the time. It might help with the investigation.’ The parrot broke out into a song I didn’t recognise. ‘I am so sexy, the boys all want me. I am so sexy, la ta ta ta ti.’

  ‘That was Holly Golly’s latest,’ Max muttered. ‘Got to number one in the witch charts.’

  Between Gabriel’s Wyrd News persona and the song I’d just heard, I was beginning to think witches had questionable taste. ‘Lovely song,’ I told the bird (integrity would have to wait until the murder was solved). ‘But maybe you could tell me more about the chocolates. Did Holly know who they were from?’

  ‘Well, there was a note.’

  I sat up. There hadn’t been a note found in Holly’s bag or in her clothing. ‘Where did she leave it? Did you read it? What did it say? Who was it from?’

  ‘Of course we didn’t read it. Holly was always getting choco
lates. Do you really expect her to read the words of every single fan or admirer?’

  ‘No, of course not. Why should she care about the people who made her rich and famous? Molly, where is this little red corvette right now?’

  ‘Why, it’s parked in front of Holly’s amazing mansion, of course. Would you like me to show you?’

  ≈

  Holly’s amazing mansion was on the east side of Riddler’s Cove, along with a whole lot of other mansions. Max and I flew there together on my wizard broom, with Dizzy and Molly flying alongside. When we finally arrived, we saw an enormous group of mourning fans outside the gates of the house, all leaving flowers and crying over the loss of Holly.

  ‘Ah, our fans.’ The parrot beamed magnanimously down at the crowd. ‘I shall go and entertain them while you search the car.’

  A moment later, we heard the parrot break out into Holly’s latest. Shockingly, Holly’s fans not only didn’t mind, but they began to cheer and clap and sing along.

  The car was parked by the front door, and luckily the driver’s door was left unlocked. Max, Dizzy and I jumped in, searching the vehicle for the note. After a few minutes, Dizzy squealed, ‘Aha!’ pulled a piece of paper out from the back of the dashboard, and handed it to me:

  Dearest Holly,

  Good golly, how did I ever let you go? I was stupid. I was wrong. When you told me you were the most beautiful and talented witch in the world, I was too stubborn to see the truth. But now I know, Holly. I love you with all of my heart, and so I have bought these delicious heart-shaped chocolates, as a representation of that love. Please eat them all, and don’t share them with anybody.

  All my love,

  Jasper Jaunt.

  ‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’ asked Max. ‘About the handwriting?’

  I nodded. ‘You’re right. This is the exact same as the notes we found in Jasper’s house.’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Dizzy. ‘But one of those notes swore to destroy everyone and everything that he loved.’ He nodded his head over to the front gate, where Molly was beginning another song. ‘Do you really think Jasper could have loved a witch who had that parrot as a familiar?’

  14. Carmel Plimpton’s Playpen

  I wish I could say that the note somehow saved the day. Instead, it became just another piece in the puzzle that I couldn’t quite connect together. The handwriting did match the notes my mother’s magic had reproduced, and neither (unsurprisingly) matched Jasper’s, Emily’s, or Lassie’s handwriting. I knew that if I could just think about it more clearly, I might be able to crack it. But it was incredibly difficult to think at all, let alone clearly, when you had a parrot singing at you for hours on end.

  When it was approaching five, and finally time to leave for my Simple Spells and Incantations class, I felt almost relieved. As I was putting my coat on, though, the parrot stayed firmly by my side.

  ‘I think I’ll come along and entertain you while you learn,’ she said. ‘Sing along while you do your spells.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I just can’t risk it. So far only my coven knows that I can communicate with familiars after their witch is murdered. If it becomes common knowledge, the murderers will just make sure to kill the familiars while they’re at it.’

  The parrot fixed me with a suspicious squint. ‘What about Max?’

  ‘What about him?’

  ‘He isn’t in your coven and he seems to know everything about you.’

  ‘Yeah, but ... he’s Max.’

  ‘I see your point. I usually only talk to witches. Can’t stand weredogs, as it happens. But when I’m talking to Max I almost feel like talking to him is talking to you. You’re inseparable, you and that boyfriend of yours.’

  ‘He’s not my ... oh, I don’t care anymore.’

  Her squint intensified. ‘Wait ... all of Holly’s fans saw me with you today.’

  Cat in a hat! I bit down on my tongue. ‘That was unfortunate,’ I said eventually. ‘I can only hope that in their grief they thought you were back from the dead to bring them comfort. I mean, it is close to Halloween. Anyway, that’s what we’ll have to tell Holly’s fans if they ask. Because my power really does need to remain a secret for as long as possible.’

  She fluttered to my shoulder and pecked me with her hard little beak. ‘Not to worry. I won’t tell anyone about your power. And I won’t tell anyone that you’re in love with Max, either. Now go off to class. And don’t worry – I shall spend the time while you’re away practising songs for your return.’

  ≈

  When I arrived at the school, my young nemesis Candace was there, along with Tommy and some of the other kids I hadn’t seen since my last class with Mizz Plimpton.

  They were waiting quietly outside the classroom door. Candace’s hair, of course, was immaculately styled. She had it French braided with a bright orange ribbon tied at the bottom.

  ‘I do like to wear autumnal colours this time of year,’ she said, when she saw me noticing her ribbon. ‘You know, to celebrate Halloween. Although I doubt you’ll have much to celebrate come the holiday. Seeing as you’re going to fail this class.’

  I narrowed my eyes at the little witch. Ten or not, she needed a talking-to. ‘What is it with you, Candace? Don’t you get it? There are murders going on in Riddler’s Cove right now. Real, horrible murders. So why would you have it in for me, when all I want to do is make your home town a safe place to live?’

  ‘Bullying my best student again, I see?’ Mizz Plimpton stalked towards me on her usual impractical heels.

  ‘Sure. Whatever. I was bullying her again.’ I smiled up at the teacher (her heels gave her at least six inches on me). ‘By the way, I have to tell you how much I’m enjoying working with your son. He’s a real breath of fresh air. I really believe he’s going to make some long overdue changes in the Peacemaking force.’

  Her left eye began to bulge. I gave myself a few silent congratulations. It usually took me a little longer than that to make her twitch.

  I smiled even more widely and waved a hand to the classroom door. ‘Well, after you, Mizz Plimpton.’

  Her face lowered towards mine. ‘This is how it’s going to go, Miss Wayfair. For the following week, every single afternoon, you shall practise wand control with this class. There will be an exam at the end of the week. It will be pass or fail. Next week, every morning at seven am, you shall practise travelling with me. Alone. At the end of that week, there will be a second exam. Again, it will be pass or fail.’

  I gave her my most winning smile yet. ‘Well, that sounds just delightful.’

  A noise began at the back of her throat, like a balloon beginning to lose its air. ‘It will not be delightful. It will barely be endurable. I shall make your life a living hell, each and every minute. I shall set you tasks so hard that you will cry tears of blood. During both of your examinations, I shall test you in every way possible. You will grow to hate me even more than you hate me right now. And there will not be a thing you can do about it. Because you, Miss Wayfair, are in my playpen now.’

  ‘Well, jeez,’ I said. ‘If I’d known it was a playpen, I would have brought some toys.’

  The sound grew louder. The twitching recommenced. But just when I thought I’d finally broken her, she held her head high, and marched through the door.

  ‘Maybe I could play with yours,’ I called after her. ‘Do you have a rattle? I like rattles.’

  I know, I know. Pride cometh before an incredibly difficult class and all that. With time and maturity, I might learn to handle witches like Carmel Plimpton with dignity. For now, I’d just have to live with my childish self.

  ≈

  Usually, when you’re suffering through misery, time has a habit of dragging. But that week, despite the horror of Carmel Plimpton’s lessons, time was flying by – and not in the good way it flies when you’re having fun. Oh no, time was flying by in the way it does when you have a deadline in five minutes and you haven’t even started the work yet. You know, the
scary way.

  After Halloween, Lassie and Emily would stand trial for murders they hadn’t committed, and we were no closer to discovering the culprit. I spent every spare moment working with my coven, but we still hadn’t tracked down the writer of the notes. And in between those spare moments, I somehow managed to carve out training time with my mother.

  Despite being called Wanda, I had absolutely no affinity with wands. They were a teaching tool, meant to educate young witches on how to control and direct their power. And whilst I could control and direct, as soon as I put a wand in my hand it became far more difficult for me to do either. To help me get used to the Stick of Evil (as I had named my wand) my mother had me use it to boil the kettle, close the curtains, flush the toilet ... basically, she had me use my wand for everything. It still didn’t feel nearly as natural to me as pointing my finger, but thanks to my mother, my wand control had vastly improved.

  Because it was all too clear to Carmel that I’d been practising, she decided to make the first of my two exams as difficult as possible.

  ‘I would like you to be able to demonstrate wand control from a distance,’ she told me. ‘Come Friday, you will be commanding your wand to perform subtle elemental spells up to five miles away.’ She smirked. ‘I hope that’s not too much of a stretch for you.’

  I thought of the curtains I’d recently set on fire. ‘Of course not,’ I said. ‘Hell, make them ten miles away for all I care.’

  Luckily, my mother was a far better teacher than Carmel. I was now able to light a candle without destroying nearby soft furnishings. After a few days, I was even able to place the candle outside and light it from half a mile away. We worked with as many elemental spells as we could. Finally, the day of my first exam arrived.

 

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