Why was it that bad or dangerous events always attracted a crowd? It seemed like without fail, anytime something bad or horrible happened, people wanted to gather around and just gawk. Apparently, Which Village was just like any other place, except for the fact that a few of the people watching had horns. One person had tiny little wings that looked like they should be in a cartoon about fairies. Another had a big, black robe on. Overall, this was the first time I’d seen the citizens looking less than human. Usually, I felt like everyone was very concerned with appearing “normal.”
We drove as close as we could, but thanks to the fire department, the police cars, and the crowds, we couldn’t drive directly to the house.
"Someone torched it," I murmured, taking it all in.
"Shit," Eliza said.
We parked down the road and then walked over to the house. Somehow, the short journey seemed to take a million years. The property was swarming with professionals: cops, firefighters, and a few official-looking people who seemed like they were used to being in charge.
"Excuse me?" Eliza said to a woman who had her back to us. She had a long dress on. "What's going on?"
"Eliza?" The woman turned, frowning at us. "What are you doing here?"
"Helena, you know why I'm here." Eliza stared at the woman, who was simultaneously trying to figure out who I was and why Eliza had shown up.
"Hello," the woman said to me. "I don't believe we've met. I'm Helena Porridge."
"That's an interesting name," I said, shaking her hand. "Jaden Quartz."
"I think you win the prize for interesting names."
"Thanks, I guess." I jerked my head toward the house. "That's my house."
"That's Alicia's house."
"Yeah, and mine. We owned it together," I said. "What happened?"
Helena was obviously the person in charge. I wasn't quite sure how. She was tall, though. She kind of towered over both Eliza and me. The softness of her skin made it impossible to tell how old she was. I was getting that vibe a lot from this place. Was she 30 or was she 75? I had literally no way to know. She wasn’t the first person I’d met who seemed ageless.
I made a mental note to ask Eliza about that later. Would I be able to acquire this ability to look young forever? No wonder people liked witches so much.
"Helena is the mayor," Eliza said, explaining to me who she was. I appreciated that she didn’t wait and make me ask.
"Okay."
"And the leader of a coven," she added.
"Eliza!" Helena screeched.
Eliza only shrugged.
"She's Alicia's daughter. She was going to figure it out sooner or later."
Helena only sighed and shook her head.
"Privacy seems to mean nothing to some people," she muttered.
"Please," I said, trying to diffuse the argument that seemed to be brewing. Apparently, these two had a history, and it wasn’t pretty. "What happened?"
"Nobody saw anything," she said. "It was called in by a neighbor."
She gestured vaguely toward a woman with pink braids. My eyes narrowed, and I started marching over to Natasha before anyone could say anything else. Natasha was standing and speaking with a police officer. She had her arms crossed protectively over her chest, and she was holding none other than Jasper.
"Oh, Jaden!" She said when she saw me. She scurried over. "I found Jasper in my yard this morning. He seemed so scared." She held him out, but I glared at Jasper.
"Get lost, cat," I said.
Jasper got down and scurried away. Natasha only looked surprised.
"What was that all about?" She asked as Jasper ran off.
"You don't want to know. That's not my mom's cat, either."
"It's not? But he's always in her yard!"
So, it was just a misunderstanding, was it? I still wasn’t completely sure whether I should buy it or not. Natasha definitely seemed like the kind of person who was innocent, but that didn’t mean much. A lot of people seemed like they were things other than what they were. For example, my mother seemed like she was a human and not a witch. My husband seemed like he was dead and not secretly alive. Lots of people could play tricks on their loved ones.
"Natasha, I need to ask you something."
"Okay?"
"Are you and that shapeshifter trying to rob my mother?"
"What?" Natasha squeaked out. She burst into tears and shook her head. "No!" She didn’t ask me who the shapeshifter was.
"You don't need to cry," I pointed out the obvious. "You just need to answer the question."
"I don't even know you," she said. "Why would I tell you anything?"
Eliza and Helena appeared: one on either side of me. They looked at Natasha, and then at me, and then back to Natasha.
"She had the cat," I pointed out. Suddenly, I felt a lot less like an almost-35-year-old woman and more like a 10-year-old girl who was snitching on the little kid across the street. How childish did I seem right now?
That bothered me a little bit, but what bothered me even more was the fact that neither Helena nor Eliza looked alarmed.
"Natasha," Eliza said. "You've lived across from Alicia a long time."
"Yes," Natasha said. "And it's nice to see you again, Miss Eliza. My condolences for your loss," she whispered.
"It's fine," she said tightly.
We all knew that it wasn't fine. I knew more than anyone else here just how not fine losing your partner actually was. Few things in life were as horrible and unforgiving as having someone you adored pass away. It sucked. Badly. The thought that Stanley might secretly be alive didn’t take away the pain I felt from his loss. For one thing, I didn’t know if I could believe it, and I didn’t want to get my hopes up that he might be somewhere, lurking around. It still scared me that he might have faked his own death, but not told me.
"We need to talk," Helena said.
"I don't have anything to say," Natasha crossed her arms over her chest and glared directly at me.
Eliza started mumbling under her breath, and Natasha's mouth suddenly closed tightly. I realized immediately that Eliza had put some sort of spell on her, and suddenly, Natasha couldn't speak at all! She shook her head as she tried to speak, but no words came out.
"Bring her into the house," Helena said, glancing around to make sure nobody else had noticed. "I'll meet you there shortly."
She turned back to the firefighters and other emergency technicians who were trying to get the fire under control. Eliza gestured for me to stay with Helena while she carefully guided Natasha back to the pink house across the street.
"So you're Alicia's daughter," Helena said, looking at the workers.
"Yes."
"And you came to town after her death."
"Yes."
"To sort out her affairs, is that right?"
"Yes."
She turned to me and looked me up and down. I had the feeling that Helena was used to having people pay attention to her. She had an air of importance about her. Probably, she liked feeling like the most valuable and intelligent person in any room she walked into. I understood why.
"What's your beef with Natasha?" She wanted to know. Apparently, it had been quite obvious that I wasn’t pleased to see my mother’s neighbor at the crime scene.
"Do you know her?" She probably did. If Helena was the mayor, then she probably knew more about the people of Which Village than anyone could possibly believe. That could be a good thing, or it could be horrible. I didn’t know Helena, so I really had no idea as to whether she was a good person or a bad person or somewhere in-between.
"She's a good witch."
"That must count for something," I said. I couldn't quite get a read on Helena. She was clever, to be sure. She was definitely a very powerful person. I had a feeling that as the mayor and coven leader, she probably knew everything that went on in Which Village: who came, who left. She was the type of person who was used to getting her way. Was she the type of person who got angry when someone cr
ossed her?
"It does," she said. "So, what do you think happened to the house?" She turned back toward my mother's cottage. It was going up in flames, and I was sad about that. It was disappointing, but not for the reasons she probably thought.
There had been so much of my mother in that house. I'd wanted to go through her things. I'd wanted to see what there was to learn about her. So far, all I'd discovered was that my mom had a penchant for potions, and that she'd been working on a cure for werewolves.
If her recipe had been in the house, it was long gone by now. I had a feeling that my mother was cleverer that that, though. If the recipe was anywhere, it was in the notebook I'd pulled from the library basement. Well, either that, or Stanley had it.
If he was actually alive.
He'd always been a sneaky bastard, but I'd never had thought he would be the type of person to fake his own death. What other explanation was there, though? Who else could my mom have been talking about?
Quartz was a type of rock, okay, but her note hadn’t made it seem like she was talking about that. Besides, why would she have capitalized the “Q” if she was writing about rocks and not about my husband? I was almost certain she was working on something with him: something they didn’t want me to know about.
"I should be asking you the same question," I said to Helena. "You're the one in charge here."
"True," she said, nodding. "And what I think is that it's quite suspicious you come to town and the house burns down the next day." She shrugged, glancing over at me. She seemed to think it was some sort of “gotcha” moment, as though my arrival meant I was the one who burned down my mother’s home.
Instantly, I disliked Helena. Maybe it was a witch’s intuition, but I suddenly had the distinct feeling that she and my mother had not been friends. I made a mental note to ask Eliza about that later. Helena seemed like kind of a busybody, and she seemed like kind of a know-it-all, too.
"Technically, I came into town two days ago," I pointed out, irritated. I choked my anger down, though. I didn’t want her to know her comment had rubbed me the wrong way.
"That doesn't exactly convince me of your innocence."
I shrugged. I didn't come to play games. I didn't really care whether Helena Porridge liked me or not. She had a dumb name, and she was kind of crabby. She was also wildly suspicious, but of the wrong person.
"I'm not here to impress you," I told her. "I'm here for my mom."
"Then why didn't you come while she was alive?" Helena asked sharply. "Why are you just now showing up? Call me crazy, but it seems quite strange that you show up and then this happens." She waved her hand in the direction of the fire, and I turned and walked away.
I'd heard enough.
It sucked that I hadn't come and seen my mother sooner. It sucked even more that I was about to come into my witchly powers and didn't have anyone to guide me. Oh, I supposed that Eliza would probably help me out, but it wasn't really going to be the same.
Was it?
I missed my mother dearly, and I regretted that I hadn't been a good daughter to her. It made me feel a little sick to know that she had been alone at the end, and that I hadn't been there for her.
Had Stanley?
That thought kept bugging me, nudging at the back of my mind. Why did Mom say the person with her was called Quartz? Mom and Stanley were both very careful when it came to revealing their identities to people. Even when he was alive - if he was actually dead - Stanley had always been careful when it came to sharing personal information.
It was strange. Had she used his name on purpose as a sort of clue? Had she known that someone might try to kill her?
I marched across the street to Natasha's house, and I opened the door without knocking. I went inside, ignoring the fact that the house was perfectly decorated or that it smelled like cookies. Of course it smelled like cookies. Why wouldn't her house smell perfect?
Eliza and Natasha were in the kitchen, and Natasha still looked like she couldn't speak. Eliza was just sitting there.
"What are you going to do to her?" I asked.
"Wait for Helena," Eliza shrugged.
"Why are you going to wait?"
"She's the coven leader."
"That doesn't mean she's a good person," I pointed out. Natasha's eyes got wide. Interesting. So, she didn't like me insulting her leader.
Eliza just shook her head.
"You have a lot to learn about the politics of being a witch."
"Did my mother have a lot to learn, too?" I asked. That was what I really wanted to know. Had Mom upset the wrong person? Had she made a mistake in her calculations?
"Your mother was a sassy witch," Eliza laughed. "And she always got her way."
"Sounds like Mom," I said. I sat down and looked at Natasha. I was ready to ask her some questions. "Eliza, can you let her speak? I have a couple of things I want to ask her."
"You mean that you don't want to wait for Helena?"
"That's what I mean."
Eliza considered the wish for a second, and then she murmured an incantation. Immediately, Natasha's mouth opened, and she acted like she was about to scream. I quickly slapped my hand over her mouth.
"Don't you dare scream," I said. "And if Helena comes in, act like you can't talk. Got it?"
Natasha nodded, and I released my hand. She looked younger now. She was wildly ageless, as most of the witches seemed to be, but right now she looked like she was in her twenties. She looked scared, and I felt a little bad.
"What do you know about Jasper?"
"Jasper? The cat?"
"He's not a cat. He's a man."
Her mouth dropped open and she shook her head.
"There's no way. He's been lurking around your Mom's house for weeks."
"For weeks?"
"Yeah," she nodded. "I thought it was your mom's cat." Then she sighed and shook her head. “I guess that’s who you meant when you were talking about a shapeshifter.” She looked upset that she hadn’t known, and I almost felt bad for her.
Almost.
"Have you seen anyone else lurking around?"
"There's a dog that comes by sometimes," she shrugged. "But that's it."
"Did my mother ever tell you she wanted to get a pet?"
"Well, no," she shrugged.
"What about any of the other neighbors?"
"The only other person who ever talked to your mom, well, that I know of, was Fiona Wellington."
"She lives next door," Eliza supplied helpfully. "She and your mom kept a polite distance."
"Yeah, they hated each other," Natasha said.
"Why?"
Eliza sighed heavily.
"Alicia was a very kind person, and obviously, I loved her a lot, but..."
"She could be abrasive," Natasha finished for her. "She could be pretty blunt, and not everyone likes that. Oh, I didn't mind, but I'm not your normal everyday witch."
"You aren't?" I asked.
"Nope. My mom was a witch, and my dad was a polar bear shifter."
"So, can you shift into a bear?" I asked.
"No," Natasha smiled sadly. "I never learned how. My dad died when I was a kid. If I have the gene, which I'm not sure I even do, then it never seemed to unlock. Strange, right?"
"I'm sorry," I said. She seemed really disappointed.
"It's fine."
"We're trying to figure out what happened to my mom. I caught Jasper in his human form looking through her stuff."
"That son of a..." Natasha shook her head, frowning. "I am so sorry, Jaden. I didn't know. I swear it."
Somehow, I really believed her. Probably, I shouldn't have, but I did. Natasha didn't seem like a terrible person. She seemed like she actually liked her neighborhood.
And it seemed like she had really cared about my mom, albeit in a platonic sort of way. That was part of what made the next question so hard. I didn't want to hurt Eliza, but I had more questions.
"Natasha, you watch the neighborhood a lot,
right?"
"Are you saying I'm a busybody?"
"No."
"Yeah, I do."
"And you see people when they're coming and going?"
"Yes."
"Did you see anyone the day my mom died?"
"Just Eliza."
"What about other days?"
"What do you mean?" She asked.
"Did you see other people come and visit my mom? Anyone regularly stop by?"
I had a theory, and I wanted to know if it was crazy. I kind of felt like I was going crazy. I wasn't sure if it was because I'd been in Which Village for a few days, or if it was because I was about to get my powers.
Natasha hesitated.
"Natasha?" Eliza pressed. "It's okay."
"I know you two were lovers," Natasha said. "I don't want to get anyone in trouble."
Eliza tensed, but nodded again.
"It's fine," she said. "Who did you see?"
"There was a man," Natasha said. "He only came about once a week."
"A man?" Eliza frowned. I knew what she was thinking. She was wondering if my mom had been unfaithful, but I didn't think that she had been. I thought it was the opposite. I understood why Eliza might be worried, though. The librarian had seen my mom with some guy she seemed to know very well, and know Natasha was basically backing that up.
"Yeah, I'm really sorry," Natasha blurted out. "I mean, I don't know what their relationship was or anything, but he only came over when it was dark out. Never in the daylight. I mean, I don't even know if I could recognize him. She hugged him though,” Natasha whispered. “I probably should have said something earlier.”
That confirmed my suspicions that my husband was alive, and that he'd been working with my mother. What other man would my mom hang out with? As far as I knew, she’d never had a male friend in her life. Her note, coupled with the brick through the window, made me think that my husband was lurking around Which Village and that he was giving us clues and trying to quietly help us solve my mother’s murder.
What I didn't know was why.
"Jaden?" Eliza looked at me.
"I think it's what I said earlier," I whispered. I didn't want to say, "I'm pretty sure my husband faked his death." I didn't want to freak out Natasha. Besides, if Helena came barging in, I didn't want Natasha telling her all of this stuff.
A Hex a Day (Which Village Book 1) Page 7
