Life's a Witch

by A. M. King

  “Neither do I. No wonder you wanted to cut the police force budget. You wanted fewer cops on the force and to have them too busy to investigate your dealings in the town and then the murders. Oh, you’re good, in a bad way, but it will cost you.”

  “So what if I’ve killed that no good Jonathan and his lover. They deserved it.”

  “No one deserves to be murdered, Mayor Francis.”

  “Well, you can’t prove it.”

  “Actually, I just managed to catch your confession on tape, Mayor. My cell phone has been recording.”

  He looked stunned.

  Moments later, Trey along with a team of Toronto officers stormed the apartment. It was good timing. She’d sent an emergency text to Trey.

  Later, after Jonathan’s ghost vanished and she said goodbye, knowing he was probably able to cross over now, she would send a copy of the recording to the police for evidence. She would, of course, leave out the part about Mayor Francis calling her a witch. She couldn’t let that go on record.

  Detective Trey walked over to Febe who was a little shaken. “You okay?” he said, soothingly. She found the sweet scent of his aftershave oddly calming.

  “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I’m just...I don’t know...a little shocked, I guess.”

  She was grateful that Jonathan did his part to play along, knowing that Conrad would be listening in and confront Febe afterward. Though Jonathan did kill his girlfriend Ericka, Febe had convinced Jonathan to help her get Conrad/Mayor Francis locked away for murdering him since technically, he’d run Jonathan over in Blackshore Bay before the slow-release poison Ericka left for him took full effect.

  “Hey, it’s okay. It’s quite crazy what happened here. I’ve seen a lot in my line of business, but nothing like this. Which brings me to another question.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You sure you don’t want to join the force?”

  “You mean working for the cops and all? Gee, I don’t know about that.”

  “You have a knack for solving crimes, Febe. Not to mention your psychic ability.” He arched his brow in such a cute and sexy way.

  Febe sighed. Her heartbeat fluttered in her chest. “I think I’ll stick to what I know best, but hey, if you guys ever need my help with anything.”

  He grinned, showing his dimple.

  Trey was so much different from her ex-fiancé Jonathan. But he was still human and she was a witch. Could this ever work between them?

  Chapter 25

  “So imagine that,” Aunt Trixie laughed as she sat in the living room at the Victorian, “Jonathan and his pretend auntie who turned out to really be his lover were both murdered. And ha, they killed each other. Seems like they deserved each other.”

  “Aunt Trixie!”

  “What?”

  “That’s not very nice and that’s not exactly what happened. Yes, they’d planned to kill each other, but then Conrad, the concierge, who happened to be Mayor Francis helped them along.”

  “And all because Jonathan, the part-time ad agent, part-time paranormal investigator was on to the Mayor’s shapeshifter shenanigans.”

  “Exactly.” Febe still couldn’t believe all the twists and turns in this case. Talk about a web of deceit.

  “Well, that sums it up then,” Aunt Vanity interjected. “So are you planning on seeing that hot cop again?”

  “Vanity, don’t encourage the girl to break the rules. You know she can’t see a human.”

  “And why not?”

  “Because magic folks and non-magics don’t mix. You know that,” Aunt Eartha said.

  Febe’s heart sank.

  Why was she feeling so down in the dumps all of a sudden? Was it because the one guy with whom she clicked, unlike any guy she’d ever dated or met, happened to be from a different species?

  How unfair was that?

  Talk about a pathetic situation. She finally found a guy she really liked and he couldn’t even know she was a witch.

  “It’s hard for me to even think about trusting a guy again after what Jonathan did.”

  Aunt Eartha told Febe, “Don’t be too hard on yourself. You gave him a second chance and everybody deserves a second chance. You were just trying to help him out. You did your part.”

  “You’re giving the child bad advice, Eartha,” Trixie said. “Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me. She should have realized once a creep, always a creep and keep the hell away from that venomous snake.”

  “But how could you say that? She really wanted to believe that he could change. That’s not a bad thing.”

  “If it’s with a bad person it is. I’m not saying you can’t help somebody in need. That’s always a good thing. We’re supposed to even feed our enemies if they’re hungry, but it doesn’t mean we have to sleep with the enemy.”

  “Who says anything about sleeping with the enemy?”

  “I’m not finished,” she continued. “It doesn’t say we have to sleep with the enemy or ever trust them again or let our guard down. You need to learn how to protect yourself, darling. You can forgive, but don’t leave yourself open to being hurt again. Keep your shield, don’t abandon it.”

  Aunt Eartha rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Anyway, the girl needs our support, not our judgment, Trixie. She had to help Jonathan or she would have been a prime suspect in his murder.”

  “Fine.”

  “Thanks, Aunties. I’m really appreciative. I just...I just can’t believe what’s transpired in the last few weeks. It all seems so surreal. First, I have to deal with being a witch,” the words were hard for Febe to formulate, “and now all of this. I can see dead people as if they were still alive. I’m a ghost whisperer. Sheesh. And all this time I thought I had limited skills with my liberal arts degree.”

  Aunt Eartha smiled. “You have plenty of skills, darling. Magic is very powerful, but it’s not just the magic you can perform and will learn to perform over time. It’s the magic within you. The magic of belief and hope. That is more powerful than many things.”

  “Thanks, Auntie.”

  Epilogue (Sneak peek of Chapter 1 – Witch You Were Here)

  “There’s room on my broom for you.”

  - Author Unknown

  A week later, Febe caught a glimpse of hot Detective Trey over by the plaza. They were finally going to meet up for their first official date: lunch at the Blackshore Bay Pizzeria, an upscale restaurant on the other side of town.

  Trey had wanted to pick Febe up at the Victorian mansion she shared with her aunties and sister, but she insisted he meet her at the plaza instead. She didn’t want him coming to the home right now. There were too many strange things happening.

  It was the anniversary of the end of the Salem Witch Trials. A day when all witches celebrated emancipation from the most horrific period in their history. So the house had a lot of visitors past and present.

  She thought about one thing: could this lead to anything? Could they really make a go at their relationship? A witch and a human?

  Trey was gazing into his smartphone. Probably playing a game. She admired everything about him. He was so cute, she sighed. She was about to go over to him when a cold draft suddenly blew around her.

  The scent of perfume wafted to her nostrils and poof. The ghost of her grand Auntie Hex from 1676 appeared beside her.

  Okay, she was so not used to this. When would she ever get used to this? Life was so much simpler in the city before she came of age as a witch, before she knew about her heritage and her family blood line. And oh, yeah, her immortal auntie who just happened to pop in once in a while. Apparently there were mortal and immortal witches. Aunt Hex was one of them. She wished in her heart that her mother could have been immortal. If only...

  Aunt Hex observed the mortals with fascination and curiosity on their cell phones, staring into the screen like zombies waiting to be liked on their social media apps.

  “Is that all they ever do? It’s like they’re under a spell. Fixated with t
heir devices instead of each other. What a bore the twenty-first century has become.”

  “Aunt Hex! Nice to see you too. And no, they’re not boring. It’s just the way things are today. Gadgets. Almost everyone has a smartphone these days.”

  “Smart phone. What about the other phones? Are you saying that Bell invented a dumb phone?”

  “No. Not at all. He was a very clever man. The father of telephone communication.”

  “And a very nice gentleman, too.” She sighed. “He was such a gentleman. I remember him dearly.”

  “You do?

  Febe had to get used to the fact that Aunt Hex had been around for centuries and had met a lot of historical figures. How interesting was that?

  Aunt Hex continued to observe with fascination. “Mortals everywhere gazing into glass screens in the palm of their hands. Some whispering commands.”

  “Commands?” Febe asked, confused.

  “Yes, like that one.”

  “Siri, call Dave,” Trey said into his smartphone, unaware that Febe and her Aunt were nearby watching him.

  “Calling Dave on Facetime,” a disembodied voice sounded through the phone’s speakers answered.

  Aunt Hex grinned and shook her head.

  “Aunt Hex. What’s wrong?” Febe asked.

  “Oh, nothing. I think it’s so cute. Aww.”

  “What’s cute?”

  “These mortals, practicing magic with their...things. Cellular phones.”

  “They’re smartphones, Aunt Hex. And I wouldn’t call it magic. It’s Wi-Fi and advanced voice technology.”

  “Oh, is that what you call it?”

  “No. That’s what it’s called.”

  “Oh, please,” she said rolling her large brown eyes framed with thick, black lashes. Where did she get those lashes? They looked as if she’d come out of 1967 instead of 1676.

  “Look at them,” Aunt Hex continued. “I could do so much more. Summoning any spirit to help me get what I want. And what’s with that incantation, Siri? Who’s Siri?”

  Febe rolled her eyes. “It’s not an incantation. It’s...part of an app or something. Listen, never mind. It’s been what? Two hundred years since you came here?”

  Febe had heard so much about her Aunt Hex and had seen tons of photos of her over the centuries in her family’s album that she felt as if she’d known her all her life.

  Aunt Hex shrugged casually. “Something like that.”

  “Well, there’s this thing called technology or magic or whatever you call it and lots of people have access to it.”

  “Back in my time, if you were caught doing that sort of stuff, making things happen, speaking to things to make things appear, you’d be burned at the stake. Lucky for them it’s not the 1690s.”

  “Of course. We’ve come a long way from the Salem Witch Trials of Massachusetts,” Febe said, “Billions of folks have access to Wi-Fi in their hands. They can make things happen.”

  “Don’t they realize they’re living in magical times?”

  “I don’t think they do,” Febe grinned. “Anyway, Auntie Eartha told me you’d be visiting soon.” Or rather, she warned me you’d be visiting soon.

  Febe had just gotten used to her new-found heritage. Some people come from a line of lawyers or doctors or politicians. She came from a line of witches. Imagine that!

  It took a bit of getting used to, but she had. Of course, she didn’t know she was a witch until very recently when she came of age. The witches in the Summer Sisters household came of age at twenty-five when their powers suddenly...happened. Wishing for things to happen and suddenly, Bam! Just like that. It happened. Wish craft. And then one thing led to another.

  “I’m here for the anniversary of the end of the Salem Witch Trials, of course. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  “Of course.”

  “What are you doing in this part of town?”

  “I just thought I’d see my favorite grandniece. Congratulations on coming of age.”

  “Thank you.”

  “And when’s the last time you spoke to your sister Marsha?”

  Febe sighed. “Too long. We’re hoping she could make it but she hasn’t returned any of our calls or messages yet.”

  “I see. Well, give it more time.”

  Aunt Hex thought for a moment. “I guess I’ll be seeing my darling nieces now. Your aunties. I hope Vanity and Trixie are behaving themselves.”

  Febe playfully rolled her eyes. “I guess. As much as they can.”

  “Right.”

  “I have a lunch date with that guy over there, but I will catch up with you soon, okay?”

  “You’re dating a mortal?”

  “Not exactly. Well. We worked on a couple of recent murder cases in town.”

  “Ah, of course. Witches have always been good in helping the law find the killers with our psychic witching abilities. Good job.”

  “Thanks.” Febe swallowed hard. Aunt Hex was right. She felt terrible going out with Trey knowing she had to keep her secret from him. How far could this relationship really go?

  Aunt Hex vanished into thin air.

  Febe walked across the street towards Trey.

  “Hey, you look beautiful.” His smile was warm and genuine.

  She wore a black T-shirt and knitted cardigan with slim-fitted jeans that hugged her curvy hips. Her purse was slung across her chest, resting on her right hip.

  “You look good, too.”

  “So you want to go to the Blackshore Bay Pizzeria?”

  No, I’m sorry but I can’t, Trey. As much as I’m attracted to you and you’re attracted to me, I’m a witch and you’re a mortal. There’s no way we should be seeing each other. We need to keep our distance. If we fall too deep in love, my magic might be revealed to you and it could spell disaster for us.

  “I’d love to,” Febe said, gently ignoring the voice in her head. She hoped she would not live to regret it.

  * * *

  Two hours later, Febe felt on top of the world after her lunch date with Detective Trey. They’d had a grand time talking about all sorts of stuff. She couldn’t believe how much they had in common. They laughed at the same jokes, shared the same views on things happening in the world, they liked the same music, the same foods. Talk about a match made in heaven. How could it be so wrong for them to be together?

  So what if he was a mortal and she was a witch, right? They could make this work, couldn’t they?

  As she walked up the stone pathway to the Victorian, she noticed Mr. Dawes looking out of his window, peeking between the blinds.

  Febe’s skin prickled. She had a strange feeling about him. She wanted to use a reveal spell to find out what was up with him.

  It was bad enough he was always watching the house. He was also in the same area where she located a body in the park the other week. The man was as strange as they came. Not to mention he was there when her mother died, but the police did not suspect him.

  She turned and walked over to his front yard and up the stone steps leading to his front door. She knocked the brass door knocker and he promptly opened the door. She was going to gently confront this man, once and for all.

  There were witches next door at her Victorian due to the anniversary celebration. Was he aware? Did he suspect something? Was he the one that sent that note to the Summer witches about being careful or one by one they’d be gone?

  “Good afternoon,” he said, his lips thinned.

  “Hi Mr. Dawes. How are you doing today?”

  “Good.”

  Okay, so there’s no ‘I’m good, thank you, and how are you doing?’

  “Um. I was just wondering if I could have a word with you for a moment.”

  “Come in.” He eyed her with suspicion.

  She saw a parchment paper on the table in the foyer. It was the same type of parchment that was used in that note.

  Who was this man?

  Febe’s witching instinct kicked in. Heat rushed through her veins. You ca
n do this, Febe. “Commanderio Reveal Yourself to Me.”

  There was a strange gust of wind that blew into the home. Febe’s limbs felt weak and numb. Then...

  Mr. Dawes pulled off his mask, only it wasn’t just a mask. It was some sort of magical cover-up.

  Febe’s jaw fell wide open.

  Mr. Dawes then revealed his true identity to Febe. Or rather, her true identity.

  * * *

  Available now! Witch You Were Here (The Summer Sisters Witch Cozy Mystery Book 3).

  * * *

  Thank you for reading this installment in The Summer Sisters Witch Cozy Mystery series.

  Coming soon...

  More magical stories set in the cozy small coastal town of Blackshore Bay in The Summer Sisters Witch Cozy Mystery series.

  The Summer Sisters Witch Cozy Mystery series:

  Witch Happens (Book 1)

  Life’s a Witch (Book 2)

  Witch You Were Here (Book 3)

  Witchful Thinking (Book 4) *coming soon

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

  A.M. King enjoys reading and writing cozy mysteries. Join her email list for updates on more cozy mysteries that will make your toes curl and your heart smile. You can send her an email at annmarieking.author@gmail.com with the subject line: Email Sign-Up.

  She loves to hear from readers.