The Locked Room Murder: A Witch Cozy Mystery (A Bluebell Knopps Cozy Mystery Book 1)

by Nancy McGovern

  “Blue, maybe you should take the afternoon off.” Nolan looked worried. “I don’t remember any lady.”

  “Neither do I,” Betty said, concerned.

  “But she was right here!” Bluebell yelped.

  The door clanked, and Sheriff Catherine Niles walked in. “Howdy.” She smiled at the patrons as she walked up to the counter. “Boy, Betty. If it gets any hotter today, I’m going to have to go to work in my swimsuit and install a pool in the lobby.”

  “Sheriff,” Bluebell said. “Did you… did you see a woman in a beret go past as you came in?”

  The Sheriff shook her head. “Nope. Though I guess the heat’s gotten to me. I thought I saw a huge flash in here, but I must have imagined it.”

  “I saw her, I really did.” Bluebell said.

  “Everything okay, Blue?” Catherine cocked her head, looking concerned.

  “Just the heat getting to her,” Nolan said. “She fell asleep at the counter right now. Must have had a dream.”

  “I didn’t. We came in just two minutes ago, right? And it’s 2.55 already!” Bluebell gasped. “I have to be at the salon by 3! Nolan, we have to leave now!”

  “All right.” Nolan looked confused. “I guess I lost track of time flirting with you, Betty.” But he didn’t look as if he quite believed it.

  “Well, you’re welcome to come lose time whenever you like.” Betty smiled. “See you later, Nolan. Bye Bluebell!”

  “Take care,” Sheriff Catherine said. “Don’t let the heat make you lose your mind, now.”

  They got back to the salon five minutes late, and to Bluebell’s surprise, her mother was waiting outside the door.

  “Honestly, Bluebell. I told you to be back by 3!” Jill said. “How do you ever expect to run this place one day if-”

  “Sorry, Jill, all my fault.” Nolan popped his head out of his car. “I lost track of time at the diner.”

  “Well…” Jill wrung her hand anxiously. “The lady’s waiting for you, Bluebell. She was here ten minutes early. I offered to start her off with a shampoo-blow dry, but she refused. She said she wanted to talk to you first. Wouldn’t take off her beret either.”

  Bluebell gaped at her. “Did you say beret?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “Never mind why.” Bluebell rushed inside.

  The lady had her legs crossed and was reading a magazine in the lounge section of the salon. She looked up and Bluebell felt a little tickle around her neck.

  “Bluebell Knopps.” The lady gave her a rather toothy smile. She was tall and thin, with sharp cheekbones and a slightly horsey face. She wasn’t very beautiful, but had an intelligence in her eyes that was nothing short of arresting.

  “Yes.” Bluebell didn’t know what to say. Somehow, she didn’t think the woman was here because she needed a hairdresser.

  “So this is your job?” the lady asked with a laugh. “A hairdresser? Interesting.”

  “My mom’s been one for twenty years,” Bluebell said. “I’ve always been interested in fashion myself.”

  “Yes. I did some research. Everyone was surprised you didn’t go to college, considering your dad’s a vet and all.”

  “Why would you do research on me?” Bluebell asked. “And what did you do at the diner? I know I didn’t fall asleep. What’s going on?”

  “Honey, are you alright?” Jill stuck her head inside the door.

  “I’m fine mom, but-”

  “She’s fine, Jill,” The woman said. But this time, her voice was deeper, throatier. An echo formed around it. “She’s fine. Your daughter’s fine. But you’re not. You’re not feeling well. You don’t have much work today, so you’re planning to go home and rest. Right?”

  A glazed look came into Jill’s eyes. “Right,” she said. “I’m not feeling well. I want to go home and rest.” She shut the door, and headed to her car.

  “Mom!” Bluebell looked at her, alarmed, and then back at the lady. “What are you doing to her!”

  “Don’t worry, she’ll be fine.” The lady shrugged. “Just a little garden variety hypnosis.”

  “Hypnosis? That’s it! I’m calling the cops!”

  “Sure. Go ahead and do that.” The lady shrugged. “They’re bound to believe you. Especially when they call Jill and she says she’s certainly not been hypnotized.”

  “Who are you and what do you want with me? You did something at the diner too, didn’t you?”

  In answer, the woman swept off her beret, and let a tumble of curly hair fall to her shoulders. Each strand was a brilliant blue.

  “Right,” Bluebell said weakly. “The blue haired lady from Irma’s B&B.”

  “Also known as Mathilda,” the Lady said. “That’s your godmother Mathilda to you.”

  “You’re not my godmother! My Aunt Maria is my godmother,” Bluebell said. “She used to be a hippie just like my parents, which is why my name is Bluebell instead of something sensible like Susan or Ellen.”

  “Your name is lovely,” Mathilda said. “It suits you perfectly. Besides, I’m not a regular godmother. I’m a fairy godmother.”

  “A fairy godmother?” Bluebell blinked twice. “Wait one second.”

  “Sure.”

  Bluebell raised a hand, and pinched herself very hard, with the other. “Ouch!”

  Mathilda raised an eyebrow. “I’m real, Bluebell.”

  “Why are you here?”

  “Well, You’re a witch,” Mathilda said matter-of-factly. “You’re about to turn 21, and as you saw today at the diner, that’s around the time your powers tend to get a little out of control. I’m here to help you with that.”

  “This is ridiculous!”

  “Is it?” Mathilda asked.

  “If I’m a witch, that means you are, too?”

  “Yes.”

  “Prove it, then. Make me fly.”

  Mathilda shrugged. “It’s a little difficult. How much do you weigh? I’d have to do some calculations, and I’d need my cauldron to cook up a potion.”

  “See? You’re bluffing. Thought so. The whole… whatever it was you did to my mom, she’s obviously in on the prank. And at the diner… I don’t know, I probably fell asleep like Nolan said.”

  “This would be so much easier if you just believed me,” Mathilda said. “But I understand your reluctance. I felt the same way when I was your age. All I can say is, I’ve come to guide you. And as a present for your 21st birthday tomorrow, I’ve come to help you cast any spell of your choice. Wisdom is a good spell, definitely something you need. A spell for strength if you like. My own choice at 21 was a spell for attractiveness, I hope you choose better than I did.”

  “I don’t want anything to do with you,” Bluebell said. “Thank you and goodbye!”

  “Look, I’m staying at Irma’s all week,” Mathilda said. “The offer of a spell and guidance only lasts a week anyway. You have to ask me thrice, and then I cast it. That’s the way it works. If you do the right thing, you’ll come see me soon. If you choose badly, you’ll regret it all your life. Okay? I’ll leave you to your thoughts now.”

  Bluebell watched her walk away. “I’m never coming,” she shouted. “I’m a normal girl. I’m no freak!”

  “You’re no freak,” Mathilda agreed. “But you are a witch, and sooner or later, you’ll come to terms with it.”

  Profoundly shaken, Bluebell did the only thing she could think of doing, taking refuge in Steve’s arms. She closed up the salon feeling strangely blank, her mind at once full of thoughts and completely empty. She found her way to her car, and rushed to his office.

  “Steve!” Bluebell stormed into his office. He looked up in surprise.

  “Blue,” he said, a little flustered. “Are you alright?”

  “We need to talk,” she said.

  “Yes, we do. Maybe you can wait an hour?” He looked at his watch and sighed. “4 o’clock.”

  “No. Steve, I really need to talk right now.”

  “Okay, I guess I won’t get much work done an
yway when you’re like this,” Steve said. “Hang on. Let me grab my coat. We can go… let’s go to the diner.”

  “I’d rather talk in private,” Bluebell said.

  “I know, but I think it’ll be better if we did this at the diner.” Steve said. “Come on.”

  Ten minutes later, they were seated at the diner, a pot of tea between them.

  “I think I might be going mad,” Bluebell said. “I don’t know what to think. I don’t know where to start.”

  “Look,” Steve said. “I know we haven’t spoken since last week, and I get that you have every right to be angry at me.”

  “What?” Bluebell looked up, surprised. “No… that’s-”

  “The thing is, Bluebell, I’ve been thinking all week,” Steve said. “I’ve been thinking long and hard about you and me. How we’re so different.”

  “Right.” She looked around and realized that the diner was filled with people she knew. Oh my God. Was he going to propose now? Like this? “Steve, before you say anything-”

  “No. I really need to say it,” Steve said. “I really need to. Please? I think I have to do it all at once or I just won’t be able to.”

  “Steve…” Part of her felt charmed. Part of her wondered if she could even accept. After all, she’d just found out she was a witch. If it were true - and that was a big if - she’d need to know a lot more before she made a life-changing decision like agreeing to get married.

  At the very least, she’d need to know if it were even allowed for a witch to wed a mortal. Not that it mattered. She’d give it all up to be with Steve. She smiled at him, at those familiar chocolate eyes, and the slight stubble on his chin. Just being around him made her feel happier, calmer. She’d loved him since she first set eyes on him at sixteen, and nothing had changed in the five years since. He was so much a part of her - he’d seen her grow up, he’d been there for her when she needed him - and he made her so much happier just by existing. Other people might think she was settling down too young, but she couldn’t imagine herself with anyone else.

  “All right,” she said. “You go first.”

  “Okay,” he said. “Bluebell, I-”

  “Yes!” she said, unable to tamp her excitement.

  He raised an eyebrow. “What?”

  “Er, I mean… yes, go on.”

  “Fine. As I said, I’ve been thinking about us. We’ve been together for two years now, and it’s been good. I feel like we developed a strong bond. But at our core, you and I are very different people, with very different things we want out of life. I guess what I’m trying to say is, what works for us when we’re young won’t work as we grow older.”

  “What?” Bluebell stared at him. “What?”

  “I didn’t want to do this tomorrow, since it’s your birthday. I didn’t want to do it today either. But then I realized I was just postponing the inevitable. I didn’t want to drag you and me along too much,” he said. “I want us to break up, Bluebell.”

  “What!” She thought her jaw must have slammed the floor. “B-break up?”

  “I’m so sorry I had to do it this way,” he said. “The thing is, I’ve been feeling this way for a while and I never knew how to tell you.”

  “For a while?” She stared at him. It was as if the Steve she knew had been replaced by an alien. “But… you were planning on buying me diamonds and telling me how pretty my eyes look just last week, and Nolan said you bought me a ring!” Bluebell cried. “Steve, you can’t be serious! I thought you loved me. I thought you and I were meant to be together forever!”

  “Well, I guess it’s all just too much too soon for me,” Steve said. “Blue, we need to find ourselves first. We’re too young to make big decisions like marriage right now. We need to break up. I need to get my head back straight. Focus on my career, and then, maybe then, we can be together.”

  “Do you not love me anymore?” she asked, tears clouding her vision.

  “I love you,” he said, fiercely. “I wish I could make you see that right now, I just can’t be with you. My career is on an upward trajectory. I just need time away. Please, Bluebell, don’t make a scene. Not now. Just give me time.”

  “So take all the time you need. We don’t need to be married,” Bluebell said, wiping her eyes. “We don’t need to decide anything. We can just carry on the way we’ve been doing. Right? You and me, boyfriend and girlfriend...”

  “No,” Steve said. “I’m going out of town all of next week again. I’m very sure about this. Right now, we need to break up, Bluebell. That’s the only way I can get my head on straight again.”

  *****

  Chapter 3

  A Spell For Disaster

  “No fury like a woman scorned,” Veronica said as she threw back her head and downed a shot of vodka. “Right, Blue?”

  For a while after Steve had paid the bill and left, Bluebell had just sat at the diner, awkwardly trying to pretend she wasn’t crying. She’d texted Veronica Berns, her best girl friend, and they’d quickly made plans to meet at the local bar. By 11 pm, they’d had a proper party, with Veronica, her boyfriend Mitch, Mitch’s best friend Lance, and Dottie, who was crushing on Lance.

  They’d moved from the bar where Bluebell had drowned her sorrows in mint margaritas, to Dottie’s ice-cream shop, where Bluebell was now drowning her sorrows in a fudge sundae while the others played darts and occasionally chugged from the open bottle of vodka Dottie had produced.

  “I just don’t understand it,” Bluebell said. “I mean, I know I’m sad, but most of all, I’m confused. Steve and I are so good together, right Veronica?”

  “The best,” Veronica said. “You guys are the best. I always told myself that I wanted what you had, a guy like Steve. To be honest, before I met Mitch, I was even jealous.”

  “You were?”

  “Yeah, I always liked Steve.” Veronica gave her a slanted, boozy smile. “But you know what, after today, I see that Steve is a scumbag. You can do better Bluebell. You’re way too good for him!” She hiccuped.

  Mitch snuck behind her and she gave a scream as he dropped an icecube down her back.

  “Mitch! Stop acting like you’re 12!”

  “Well stop sitting here and being sad, both of you. Steve was a jerk anyway. Forget him, Bluebell. I’ll introduce you to some of my buddies at work. One or two of them are even decent looking.”

  “It’s not about looks.” Bluebell dropped her spoon, and felt even more despondent. “I really loved Steve. I can’t explain it. In my mind, the story of my life always had him in it. He was my happy ending.”

  “There’s no such things as happy endings.” Veronica waggled a finger at her. Mitch scooped Veronica up, and whispered something in her ear. She giggled and screamed, and he carried her over to the others.

  Feeling even lower, Bluebell decided to sneak out of the shop. Maybe she could call Steve. Yes. That was a great idea.

  She snuck out and was walking on a dirt road now, vaguely aware that she was heading deeper into the woods. She hadn’t drunk a drop, but the events of the day made her feel dazed. Sadly, she realized that it was past midnight, which meant she was now twenty one.

  She rang Steve’s phone, and started speaking even before he could say a word.

  “Steve, I know what happened,” she slurred. “I guess you just got cold feet. That’s all it is. We’re so good together, you’re going to see that! You have to see that! You love me, I know you do!”

  There was a click. He’d hung up on her. If there was one thing Steve had never done before, it was hang up on her. On her birthday too.

  Ignoring the wrenching feeling in her heart, she tried to ring him back. The air around her seemed to hiss a little, and then, out of nowhere, Mathilda appeared.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Mathilda said.

  “Oh, you!” Bluebell gave her a cross look. “I haven’t had a stroke of luck since you appeared in my life!”

  “So it seems,” Mathilda said.

 
“You can admit it now, you were joking about me being a witch, weren’t you?”

  “I wish I was,” Mathilda said. “You’re a hot mess right now, Bluebell. Happy Birthday anyway.”

  “So you’re still insisting that you’re a witch? Fine. You owe me a spell, right?” Bluebell laughed.

  “I do.”

  “Well if there’s something you can do, bring Steve back to me. That’s the spell I want you to cast.”

  “Bluebell, get a grip. If you were sober you wouldn’t-”

  “Oh, but I’m not sober,” Bluebell said. “I’m drunk on love. This is the perfect way to figure out if you’re a cheat or not, right? So cast your magical spell, grand witch. Get me my boyfriend back.”

  Mathilda sighed. “Look, why don’t I meet you again tomorrow. Being a witch isn’t casual business. You can’t just interfere with free will. Now you’ve asked me twice. Be warned that I’ll be forced to cast the spell whether or not I want to, if you ask again. Please make a better choice. Wisdom is the best-”

  “This is my third time asking!” Bluebell said. “Cast it!”

  Mathilda looked pained. “It is your third time asking,” she said. “Okay. I’ll do it, but believe me, you’re going to regret this.”

  *****

  Birds chirped around her. Something brushed against her hair and touched her cheek. A ray of sunlight somehow managed to coax its way under her closed eyes. Bluebell grumbled and shifted in her sleep. Her pillow was particularly uncomfortable, she thought. Insistently, something brushed against her hair again.

  She woke up, and gave a little cry. She was lying on the grass in a little circular meadow, surrounded by pine forests. She was wearing the same clothes she’d had on last night. One shoe was off, and the other dangled precariously on her foot. She backed up, looked around, and tried to make sense of it all. She had a vague memory of Mathilda telling her she’d regret something… and Steve!

  Steve was in front of her. He was sitting cross-legged on the grass, looking very serious.

  “You called me,” he said. “Bluebell. You called me back.”