Witches Just Want to Have Fun

by Amanda M. Lee

  I cast a wary look at Jareth. He wasn’t particularly beautiful. “I’m watching you.” I extended a warning finger so he would be well aware of exactly how serious I was. “Now … where is Maureen Doyle? We need to talk to her.”

  If Jareth was taken aback by the shift in my demeanor he didn’t show it. “She’s in the parlor.” He crooked his arm in my direction. “Would you like me to lead you in?”

  Not in this lifetime. “I think I’m good.”

  “I think she is, too.” Galen put his hand to the small of my back and graced Jareth with a warning look. “Take us to Maureen. As for the rest, we’ll talk about that later.”

  Jareth’s smile slipped. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

  “Because you’re not an idiot, despite the way you just acted.”

  “Maureen is this way. I’m sure she’ll be happy to see a friendly face.”

  MAUREEN DOYLE WAS INDEED relieved to see a friendly face. She hopped to her feet when Galen swaggered into the room, paying me no mind as she threw her arms around his neck and began to sob against his chest.

  “Please tell me you know who killed my daughter, Galen.”

  My heart clenched as the woman openly sobbed, Galen calmly rubbing her back as he attempted to soothe her. “I’m not happy about why you’re here, Maureen, but I am glad to see you.” Galen eased back so he could study the woman’s face. “We have a few things to talk about.”

  “Of course.” Maureen made room for Galen next to her on the couch, keeping her full attention on him and leaving me to sit on the matching sofa across the way. I tried not to cringe when Jareth sat next to me. “What do you know about Trish’s death, Galen? I need to know who killed my daughter.”

  “Well, Ashley Conner is in custody and the prosecutor is charging her,” Galen started.

  “Ashley Conner?” Maureen’s eyebrows flew up her forehead. “That can’t be right. Those girls were friends for years … like, real friends. They weren’t hanging out just to drive Gus and Henry crazy, no matter what those two idiots thought.”

  “They got in a fight the day Trish was killed.”

  “About?”

  “My understanding is that it was about a man they were both seeing.” Galen was obviously uncomfortable as he shifted on the couch. “I don’t believe either relationship was serious.”

  Maureen pursed her lips. “I don’t understand. Why were they dating the same guy?”

  “I don’t think ‘dating’ is the right word.” Galen’s discomfort clearly rose with each word. “It was Booker.”

  “Booker?” Maureen was astonished. “You can’t be serious. Those girls threw away their friendship on Booker? The man is notorious for sleeping around. I mean … that’s all he does.”

  “He looks good doing it, though,” Jareth muttered, taking on a far-off expression, which only served to confuse me.

  “The prosecutor is convinced that Ashley killed Trish, but I’m not sure that’s true,” Galen admitted. “The thing is, even though Trish and Ashley were angry with each other, Ashley looked genuinely shaken when she realized what had happened. She’s also not the type to kill someone over one fight.

  “Of course, I could be wrong,” he continued. “I’m going to continue my investigation, even though that’s not what the prosecutor’s office wants.”

  “I agree with you about Ashley.” Maureen was matter-of-fact. “The girl wasn’t allowed in our home for obvious reasons, but she was always pleasant and fun to be around when I did have the occasion to spend time with her at a public event. Maybe it’s just that I don’t want to believe she’s capable of killing Trish, but I would like you to continue looking.”

  “That’s the plan.” Galen lightly tapped her hand as he debated how to proceed. “I have some questions to ask you about the feud.”

  “Oh, geez.” Maureen made a disgusted face. “I’m so sick of hearing about that feud. That feud ruined my marriage and stole my child from me. I don’t want to talk about it.”

  I had no idea what she meant by that, but I was intrigued.

  “We have to talk about it.” Galen was firm. “Hadley talked to Gus at the bar yesterday. He got blitzed and was blathering on about a variety of things. He claims that he did not have an affair with Barbie Conner. While I don’t like speculating about idle gossip, I always heard that was the reason your marriage broke up. Can you enlighten me?”

  Maureen’s face remained blank. “Who is Hadley?”

  Galen gestured toward me. “She’s helping me in a freelance capacity. She’s May Potter’s granddaughter. I … she was with me when Trish’s body was discovered and wants to help me find out the truth.”

  “I see.”

  And, because she very clearly didn’t see, I averted my eyes.

  “I need to know the truth about why your marriage ended,” Galen prodded. “It might be important.”

  “I understand. It’s just that I promised Gus I’d never speak about it.”

  “I don’t think you have a choice.”

  “Probably not.” Maureen brushed her hair back. “Okay, here it is. Gus and Barbie weren’t having the affair. I always thought Gus had a thing for Barbie – was even jealous a time or two when I thought she was throwing herself at him – but he swore up and down I was imagining things.

  “I got so worked up at an Elks party one night that I ended up drinking with Henry,” she continued. “He thought the same thing I did. We had a few too many drinks and one thing led to the next … I’m sure you can figure out how things went.”

  I was officially horrified. “You slept with Henry?”

  “It was one night that turned into a few months,” Maureen conceded. “I don’t know why I let it happen. I was lonely at the time. Gus and I were constantly arguing. I was weak and succumbed … and it blew up my marriage.

  “Trish took her father’s side, of course,” she continued. “She was furious and thought I’d betrayed her as much as Gus. I tried to talk to her, thought I could make things better, but she refused to even accept my calls.”

  “Is that why you left Moonstone Bay?” Galen asked.

  Maureen nodded. “I thought a little space would do us good. I let Gus keep the bulk of the money in the divorce simply to get free and leave. After a few years, I met someone new. I invited Trish to the wedding, thought we could let bygones be bygones. She didn’t even bother responding to the invitation.”

  My heart went out to the woman.

  “Now she’s dead,” Maureen said, her voice thick with tears. “She’s dead and we’ll never be able to make up for lost time.”

  “Oh, that’s just so sad.” Jareth dabbed at his eye with a handkerchief and I couldn’t help but notice that his tears were tinted red. “It’s like a tragedy … and not a funny one like I prefer.”

  Everything about this day was turning into a tragedy.

  16

  Sixteen

  “Are you going to explain the vampire?”

  I waited until I was safely in Galen’s truck before asking the obvious question upon exiting the funeral home.

  “Jareth is … an acquired taste.” Galen kept his gaze on the road. “I’m sorry he did whatever he did to you.”

  “Hmm.” I made a noncommittal noise.

  “What did he do to you?” Galen prodded.

  “I have no idea.” That was the truth. “I went cold all over and felt fuzzy. I’m not sure what happened.”

  “He probably tried to glamour you.”

  I ran the word through my busy brain. “So … that’s true? I mean, vampires can really hypnotize people and make them think things?”

  “I’m saying that vampires have many powers and that’s one of them.” Galen chose his words carefully. “Humans are susceptible to vampires. Shifters are to some degree. As for witches … that’s more up in the air.”

  He seemed uncomfortable with the conversation so, naturally, I drilled down. “He said something about May being able to shut him out. Is that nor
mal?”

  “May was a very powerful witch.”

  That wasn’t daunting or anything. “I’m not a powerful witch.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I feel it.”

  Galen was calm as he turned off the main drag and onto a side street I didn’t recognize. “Hadley, you don’t strike me as the insecure sort so this … mood … confuses me. Why do you think you’re not powerful?”

  “I think that’s obvious. I can’t do any of the things May can do.”

  “You don’t practice,” Galen pointed out, parking in front of a nondescript bungalow with aquamarine trim. He left the engine running as he turned his full attention to me. “May practiced all the time. She researched. She loved living the life of a witch. You don’t have to be her.”

  I swallowed hard. “You want me to be, though.”

  “I don’t believe I ever said that.”

  “You did.” I was firm. “You said you wanted me to touch Trish’s body so I could see how she died. You only stopped yourself from pushing me to do it because you felt guilty.”

  “Wow. That’s one messed up brain you’ve got there.” Galen lightly rapped his knuckles on the side of my head. “That is not what happened. If you believe that, we need to have your vision and hearing checked.”

  I balked. “That is what happened.”

  “It’s not.” Galen kept his voice calm. “I shouldn’t have brought that up. It wasn’t fair to you. You’re still getting used to living on Moonstone Bay. Bringing up the things May could do – things she worked six decades to perfect – wasn’t fair to you. I’m to blame for thinking it was.

  “You grew up believing you were normal,” he continued. “You didn’t know any different. Why would you? If you had contact with May while growing up things might have been different. You might be a skilled practitioner now, even more powerful than May. We can’t go back in time and change things, though.

  “So … are you at a disadvantage when it comes to magic now?” Galen queried. “I guess so. Some might think you’re better off. You get to learn magic as an adult and not deal with all the immature stuff that adolescents deal with. I think you’re getting the best of both worlds.”

  He was so earnest he caused my heart to flutter. “But it would be better for you if I could help.”

  “I want you to worry about what’s best for you for right now,” Galen stressed. “You can’t learn everything overnight, and pushing yourself to be May is a bad idea. Do you want to know why?”

  I wasn’t sure. “Maybe.”

  Galen smirked. “Being May is a bad idea because you’re Hadley. You need to learn this stuff at your own pace, embrace the life when you want and not when you think you should. Don’t push yourself to be a superstar. Let it happen naturally.”

  “You seem convinced that I’m going to be a superstar. What if I’m not?”

  “Then you’ll still be Hadley.” Galen tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and lowered his voice. “It’s going to be okay. You’re overwhelmed by all of this. I shouldn’t have pushed you that night. It wasn’t fair.

  “I wish I could promise that people will stop comparing you to May – mostly because I think that’s detrimental to your mental welfare – but I can’t see it happening, so I’m afraid you’ll have to get used to it,” he continued. “May was beloved. I think you will be, too. But even if you’re not, that’s okay. Just be you.”

  I blew out a sigh. “I feel a little lost. When it comes to the stuff like you … and Lilac … and even Booker, I’m okay. I can figure it out. Sure, you’re a pain in the butt when you want to be, but it’s mostly in a charming way.”

  Galen chuckled. “That’s good to know.”

  “It’s just when I think about the other stuff … .” I trailed off, uncertain.

  “Stuff like being a witch?”

  “And Aurora being a mermaid … and you being a wolf … and that dude being a vampire … and shark shifters being real. It all feels so overwhelming sometimes.”

  Galen offered a sympathetic cluck as he smoothed my hair. “That’s normal. Anyone would feel overwhelmed in your position.”

  “I think you’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

  “Is it working?”

  I bit my bottom lip to keep from smiling. “Kind of.”

  “Well, that’s good.” Galen leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “If you get overwhelmed, I’m here to talk. I don’t know how much help I’ll be, but I’m always here to listen. I don’t want you internalizing this to the point that you explode. Let’s talk about these things before they get out of hand, okay?”

  “Yeah, well … .” I sucked in a breath and purposely returned to the problem at hand. I needed time to think, and it wasn’t going to happen if I had to explain my feelings in drawn-out fashion. “What’s the deal with this place? Who lives here?”

  “Henry Conner.”

  “Oh.” Realization dawned. “Are you going to ask him about the affair?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you going to ask him if he killed Trish?”

  “We’ll see.”

  “Oh, are you going to ask him if he knows his wife never slept with Gus?”

  “Ugh. You’re the most annoying sidekick ever.”

  “I heard that.”

  “You were meant to.”

  HENRY CONNER, HIS EYES red-rimmed, didn’t look happy when he opened his door and found us standing on his front porch. He stared for a long moment, blinked, and then made an unintelligible sound in the back of his throat.

  Galen seemed to expect the reaction because he didn’t appear upset by the greeting. “We need to talk.”

  “And what if I don’t want to talk to you?” Henry challenged.

  “I’m trying to make sure that the investigation into Trish Doyle’s death is complete – and the prosecutor wants to close it and focus solely on Ashley – so I think you should reconsider.”

  “Ugh.” Henry’s frustration was palpable as he left the door open and disappeared into the drab hallway. Galen ushered me inside ahead of him before closing the door and prodding me toward what looked like a living room. “Ashley isn’t a murderer, Galen. I’m not saying she’s perfect or anything – you of all people know that – but she’s no murderer. She wouldn’t have killed Trish.”

  “I believe you, but I can’t work on gut feelings alone.” Galen settled on the couch, motioning for me to sit next to him, and focused on Henry. “There’s a lot of evidence working against Ashley. You have to recognize that.”

  “What evidence?” Henry challenged. “As far as I can tell, you have no evidence.”

  “Well, for starters, she got into a fight with Trish at a bar earlier in the day. It happened in front of me, so I saw it, which isn’t good for her.”

  “A fight is not a murder.”

  “I agree.” Galen’s tone was calm. “We have more than that, though. Ashley has no alibi. She was front and center at the beer tent – apparently dancing and drawing attention to herself – until she conveniently disappeared at the same time as the murder. She was gone for at least forty-five minutes that no one can account for. That’s on top of the fact that the knife found lodged in Trish’s throat matches a set Ashley had in her house.”

  Henry balked. “You mean kitchen knives that anyone could own? Last time I checked the grocery store only sold one set. Everyone on this island has the same knives.”

  Galen shook his head. “The handle was unique, like a fake mother-of-pearl material. It looked to be an old knife. Ashley had three knives in a drawer that matched it.”

  That was clearly news to Henry as he paled considerably. “But … that’s still not proof.”

  “Henry, I’m doing my best here.” Galen rubbed his hands over the knees of his trousers. “We have some questions to ask you and it’s important you answer honestly. Do you understand?”

  Henry didn’t immediately answer, instead furrowing his brow and focusi
ng on me.

  “She’s my assistant,” Galen offered hurriedly. “She’s helping me on this case. It’s perfectly fine for her to be here.”

  “She’s your girlfriend,” Henry corrected. “Everyone in town knows you’re courting her.”

  Ugh. What is it with that word? “I don’t know that courting me is the correct way to put it,” I hedged.

  Galen cast me a sidelong look. “How would you put it?”

  Whoops. That set him off. “Oh, well … courting is just such an odd word.”

  “Moonstone Bay is odd. Get over it.” Galen focused on Henry. “She’s with me and we’re working together to find out the truth. She believes Ashley is innocent and refuses to take no for an answer, so you really want her on your side.”

  Henry scowled. “I never thought I’d see the day when our esteemed sheriff brought his girlfriend to work.”

  “Life is short.” Galen was easygoing but firm. “Live a little. Now, as for our questions, I want to start with your relationship with Maureen Doyle. How would you describe it?”

  Whatever Henry was expecting, that wasn’t it. His mouth dropped open and incredulity practically rolled off him in waves. “Excuse me?”

  Galen didn’t back down. “You heard me. What was your relationship with Maureen Doyle?”

  “I don’t see where that’s any of your business.”

  “It is if you want to continue helping Ashley.”

  I didn’t believe for a second that Galen would abandon his investigation if Henry didn’t cooperate. That wasn’t fair to Ashley, after all. I had to give him credit for being a good bluffer. Henry was so uncomfortable with Galen’s steady stare he could do nothing but move his lips – pursing and un-pursing them repeatedly – for a full minute. Finally, he found his voice.

  “We had a thing,” Henry barked, his eyes lit with fury. “It was a short thing, but it was a thing.”

  “My understanding is that it started at an Elks party, turned into a brief affair, and essentially ruined Maureen’s marriage to Gus,” Galen noted. “Is that how you see it?”

  Henry was flabbergasted. “Who told you that?”