“That would be my ancestor, Nicholas Remy,” Sera said with a smile. “He was the local magistrate. Well, he built the first portion anyway—a typical, two story, first period home—it’s been through a few transformations since then.”
“Really?” Mallory said, “Nicholas Remy, huh?” Balthasar had said that Nicholas Remy was his grandfather. “I bet the local home renovators, Jack and Juniper would love to take a peek inside. Do you know what’s changed?”
“There are records of everything, but I haven’t really looked to closely. I know there were two additions done before the 18th-century, giving the house a typical colonial five-bay facade.
“Ooh, you sound like you know what you’re talking about.”
Sera laughed. “Not really. It’s just been written down a lot that way.”
She cleared her throat, “Was your ancestor related to a witch hunter?”
Sera shrugged. “I don’t know. My family was very secretive. That’s kind of why I moved here—to learn more.”
“Well, let me know if you find anything out. I love learning about the town’s history.”
TWENTY TWO
W ith the manor settled and the weather halfway decent, Mallory and Eve decided to go into town to have a coffee with Pike. Apparently, the whole town had the same idea. The line-up was all the way down the sidewalk.
“Geez. Do you think we should go in and help?” Mallory asked.
“Does a squirrel have nuts?” Eve replied, pushing people aside so they could squeeze through.
“Hey! No cutting.” One of the regulars shouted.
“Shut it, Harold, or I’ll cut you.” Eve hollered back.
They’d only been there a few seconds when Mallory felt a chill sweep from behind her. Great. Her own personal ghost had arrived. As soon as possible, she would find Star and see if there wasn’t some way to lay this ghost to rest. Ooh, and she needed to remember to ask her about Willa. There was something weird going on there.
“I need a word,” he said, glaring at Eve. “Ditch the old hag.”
Mallory shot the ghost a dirty look. She had half a mind to sick Eve on him.
“Is it me or is it getting colder in here?” Lulu, Pike’s business partner, asked, coming up to greet the ladies.
“Yeah, temperature must be dropping again. Where’s Pike?”
“Oh, I sent her home. The baby was fussy and there was just no room for them in here. You got an octopus, you wanna lend me. I’m busier than a one-legged man in a butt-kicking contest.”
“I’ll stay and help Lulu. You go check on Clara, Pike and the wee babe, okay,” Eve said.
“You sure, you don’t need my help too?”
“Nope. Too many cooks in the kitchen.” Eve said, “I’ll have this place whipped into shape in no time.”
Mallory nodded and Lulu hugged her. “Come on back for a coffee later and give that baby a kiss for me.”
“Simpering, blubbering females,” Balthasar grumbled as Mallory walked out of the café with him at her side.
“They are not,” Mallory scolded him when they were out of earshot. “You’ve probably never known anyone like Eve or Lulu.” Mallory waved to Rebel as she passed her on the opposite side of the road. “Women are different now. I don’t expect you to understand that, being a woman-hating witch hunter and all.”
“Mind yer words, girl!”
“Or what? You’ll go all Vigo on me and slime Bohemian Lake?”
He laughed–a loud, arrogant kind of laughter like you’d expect from a big witch hunter. “Whatever does that mean?”
“It’s a reference to a movie, Ghostbusters. You know what—never mind.”
Mallory continued walking for about ten minutes, doing her best to ignore him just as one of the local seniors, Mrs. Miller boogied by in her souped-up scooter, a cigar dangling from her mouth. She had short silvery white hair and long, bony fingers that rested on the arms of the wheelchair. She was wearing her favorite Conway Twitty sweatshirt and brown pants, along with some bright yellow rubber boots.
The smoke blew in Mallory’s face as she passed–a sweet smell of fruit-scented tobacco.
“Now that’s a man I can relate to.” Balthasar said.
Mallory growled in frustration. “That’s Mrs. Miller and she’s an old woman... not a man.”
“But her hair…”
“Be quiet!” Mallory warned, seeing the new brunette—Sera Priest—approaching.
“Mallory. Nice to see you again. Where are you off to?”
“Oh, just headed to check on a friend. Pike Hart.”
“The café-owner?”
“Yes, she’s just had a baby and Finn’s working so I just want to check in since the phone service has been spotty.”
“That’s very nice of you. Oh, and you know how we were talking earlier about the witch hunting stuff.”
Mallory shot a silencing glance over at Balthasar and then nodded.
“I found an old book at the house and you’re right. There is a record of a witch hunter in my family.”
Mallory nodded. “Interesting. Why don’t we chat about that tomorrow? I need to get to Pike’s.”
No sooner had the girl walked away than Balthasar was gloating. “Well, that explains it then, doesn’t it?”
“Explains what?” Mallory asked, rather annoyed.
That girl’s the last of my line–far as I can tell. She must be the reason I’m here.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“You figure that out, and Poof! I’m gone.”
“Why don’t you test the ‘I’m gone’ part of that sentence. I don’t want you to scare the baby.” Mal looked around and realized she was talking to air.
Shaking her head, she continued out of town until she was on the dirt road that led to the Old Mill’s front door. She knocked.
“Come in!”
Pike’s aunt, Clara Hart glanced up from the scarf she was attempting to crochet.
“Hey, Clara. How’s it going?” Mal took off her raincoat and hung it on the rack. “Where are the other women of the household?”
Clara pointed to the staircase behind her. Apparently, the old woman wasn’t feeling chatty today. Mal thanked her and kept moving in search of the mom and new babe.
“And be quiet,” Clara growled. “That baby’s abrasive when she’s woken from her sleep.”
“Gee. I wonder where she gets that from,” Mallory mumbled as she grabbed hold of the banister.
“Are you calling me abrasive,” Clara challenged.
“Why, I would never,” Mallory said with a grin.
Clara huffed out a breath.
Mal wandered through the second floor until she found Pike on the floor of the baby’s room. The baby was sitting in her vibrating chair beside an unconscious Pike—wide awake and cooing.
Pike opened her eyes, looking stunned.
“Oh my God. Pike! Are you okay? Did you fall or something?” Mallory dropped to her knees while simultaneously pulling out her cellphone. “I’ll call Finn.”
“God. No!” Pike said, sitting up. “Don’t you dare! If you touch that button, you will die a slow and painful death.”
“What? Well, why are you on the floor?”
“Oh, that,” Pike said a little too calmly. “I guess I fell asleep. The baby wouldn’t go down in her crib so I finally just put her in the chair and sat down beside her. I guess I fell asleep first.” Pike burst into tears. “I’m just so tired.”
“Oh, Pike, I’m sorry.” Mallory hugged her friend. “Go lay down. Let me spend a little time with the baby.”
“No, Mal. Thank you but it’s time to feed her.” Pike reached forward to unbuckle her. “It’s not that bad. These damn hormones. I can’t wait until I feel normal again. Uh, can you carry her for me? I think my legs went to sleep.”
Mallory gladly picked up the smiling infant and cradled her to her chest, walking behind Pike down the stairs to the kitchen.
“Why don’t I mak
e us some tea while you breastfeed?”
“Sure, I can only handle herbal right now.”
Mallory nodded as she switched on the gas burner. “So, have they figured out who killed the High Priestess?” Pike asked.
“No, the ME is performing the autopsy this morning. I hope he finds something to help us. But that’s what I came to talk to you about.”
“Really? Why? What’s up?”
“Well, it’s about your friend Willa.” Mallory said as she set about grabbing teacups from the cabinets.
“You can’t possibly think she’s involved in this?” Pike said as she settled into the corner of the couch beside Clara, who was smiling and chatting to the baby.
“I don’t know what to think, but she’s missing. At least, I think she is. I was hoping you could help me track her down. I’ve tried her cell phone and her house and no one’s answering.”
The water was ready by the time she found a small teapot.
“Oh god. That’s awful. I’ll go check her parents place. What should I tell them if they ask why I’m looking for her?”
“I don’t know. According to the Hubbard girl, you know Cotton’s niece, Lizzy.”
“Sure. I mean, I don’t really know her-know her, but I know of her.”
“Well, she replaced Lise as my assistant manager. Anyway, I caught her coming out of the passage with the dead witch, Sylvia’s grimoire yesterday. According to her she found it outside Edwin’s door.”
“Sorry. Who’s Edwin?”
“He’s Sylvia’s assistant or he was. He’s dead.”
“Holy crap!”
“Yeah, one of the guests was complaining about the noise coming from his room. She tried to find Willa to check on him but Willa was MIA. So, she goes and finds the book there. After that I go into the room and find Edwin murdered. Lizzy tells me she saw this very book in Willa’s cubby earlier and thinks that maybe she stole it from Sylvia’s room.
“Wow.”
“Right?!”
“So, what do you think?”
“I don’t know. It doesn’t sound like Willa to me. I mean, she’s never been a thief but honestly, how well can you know someone you babysat as a kid. She’s a brilliant chef but I have no idea whether or not she’s capable of murder, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’m gonna go check Star’s place next. Apparently, they’re a thing, or at least Willa felt that they were. Star was rebounding from her marriage to Sylvia.”
“The dead witch?”
“The one and only.”
“Wow. This sounds like a soap opera.”
“Tell me about it.”
TWENTY THREE
M allory put down her teacup. Real tea, not like the stuff she’d had at Pike’s house. She was now back at Star’s shop explaining the situation while Balthasar hovered impatiently in the corner.
Star frowned, brows knitting over her tired puffy eyes. “I just can’t believe it. Willa… a murderer. I mean, she was definitely jealous of Sylvia, but... a murderer… no.”
“So, she hasn’t come by here. You haven’t seen her today?”
Star shook her head. “The last time I saw her was when I was talking to you. She took off and that was it.”
“Alright, well if you hear from her then let me or Kaden know, and be careful. If it is her then you could be in danger too.”
“Of course.” Star nodded.
“Anyway, there’s a few things I need to talk to you about.”
“Go ahead!”
“Do you know what Malleus Maleficarum means?”
“Of course, but wherever did you hear that.”
“The morgue after you left. I touched Sylvia.”
“You did what? Necromancy is very dangerous, Mallory. I don’t want you doing that again.”
“Fine. Trust me, I didn’t like it.”
“So, what did you see?”
“A shadowy figure in a black robe wearing a cross. They wouldn’t come into focus but I feel like Sylvia was trying to communicate the words, Malleus Maleficarum to me. So, what does it mean?”
“Loosely translated it means, The Hammer of Witches, but basically it’s referring to the Medieval Witch Hunter Book written in the 15th century. Sylvia once claimed that she knew where it was, but when I pressed her about it, she denied it.
Mallory sighed. “I think it may have got her killed. Now for the second thing I need to talk to you about—the séance. Remember how I told you I was hearing a voice. Well, we conjured someone alright but it wasn’t my father.”
“That’s not possible. I was very specific. Not just any spirit could come through like that.”
“We did and he’s here. He’s apparently related to the new girl in town.”
“Really? I guess that could explain it.”
“I’m glad you think so. But you haven’t heard the best of it yet. Star St. James, white witch–meet Balthasar Popescu, witch hunter.”
“I told ye I’m reformed,” Balthasar objected.
“A witch hunter?” Star’s jaw dropped. “He’s here?” She lowered her voice, “Could he be the one killing? Did he take possession of Willa? Oh, Goddess.”
“Star–”
“I did not kill the witch—Sylvia. No.” Balthasar sketched an elegant bow to her. “I told ye I’m reformed.”
Mallory was getting impatient. “He says it’s not him. He’s reformed. So, how do we help him move on?”
Star lowered her voice, “Are you sure you believe him? He could be lying. What if he’s able to possess people? That brick… ”
“I believe him but he still needs to move on. So, how do we do it?” Mallory asked.
Star walked around him with her eyes closed and presumably her mojo working. “I’m not sure,” she said finally. “He must have some sort of unfinished business.”
Balthasar interrupted. “Well, aye. I guess I do. I need help to clear my name.”
“Clear your name?” Mallory laughed. “Clear it of what? Everyone knows you were a witch hunter. You’ve admitted it. Even if you were a reformed one. You still did it.”
“I did,” he agreed. “But that wasn’t the reason I was hanged. I was innocent.”
“Innocent of what?”
“The murder of my wife.”
“Your wife was killed? That’s awful. I’m sorry.”
“My poor children were left to fend for themselves.” He stroked his chin. “What if I’m here to help that girl. She’s family. Besides, I can help ye find who murdered the witch in the tree and the lad in the bath. Ye need me too, girl.”
“Okay. Who killed them?” Mallory scoffed.
“I don’t know yet–but I could be helpful,” he said with great confidence. “It’s the smell of blood. T’would be all over him.”
Mallory thought about his offer. Maybe he knew something the rest of them didn’t. He was a ghost, and ghosts were supposed to know things–see things normal people couldn’t from the other side.
“All right,” Mallory agreed finally. “I’ll help you, and you can help me. But we need some ground rules.”
“I don’t take to rules well,” he growled, dark eyes fierce. He paced about one inch above the floor.
“Stay out of my room when I’m sleeping and no hanging out in the bathroom for any reason with me. You have to keep your distance. And no starting up conversations or making demands while I’m with people who might think I’m crazy talking to you.”
He agreed. “Done and done. Ye know, ye barter like a man. That must be why ye aren’t wed at such an old age.”
Mallory ignored the misogynistic comment. “Deal?”
He spit on his hand and reached it toward her. “Deal–and no going back on it.”
Lucky for her he wasn’t real enough to have spit that Mallory could touch. “Good. You can start by leaving right now and going wherever it is you go when you disappear.”
He frowned and growled at her again, but he disappeared.
“Is he gone?” St
ar asked. “Wow! I guess I don’t need to keep researching auditory ghosts now. It’s just as well, all I could find so far, were references to hallucinations.” Star rolled her eyes.
“Do you think he’s actually related to that new girl, Sera?”
“I think it’s the only thing that could have brought him and held him here. Blood is immensely powerful. It’s hard for any spirit to get a foothold in our world much less be able to speak to the living. There must be some purpose. Could she be the killer?”
“I don’t know.” Mallory remembered the girl mentioning a book. And hadn’t Hatti said, they’d had a diary stolen? She’d have to check it out. “It’s weird to think I’m helping a witch hunter,” Mallory admitted.
Star shrugged. “He said he was reformed.”
Mallory was preparing to leave when Captain Cody Lumos walked through the door of Peace and Light.
“Mal. Ms. St. James.” Cody smiled. “I’m sorry to interrupt but I’m sure by now you’ve heard about Mr. Poe.”
Star nodded.
“I have to look into it, and I’ve been told you threatened him the night of your wife’s murder.”
“Great. So, now I’m a suspect again.”
“It’s not personal.”
“Really? Well, if I killed Sylvia, why would I also murder the main suspect? It makes no sense. I’ve known about Eddie for several months. I loved Sylvia, but I was the one who decided to move here to start a new life and respected her decision to stay in California. If you genuinely love someone, then you want them to be happy, whether it is with you or another person or in another place. And if I was going to murder her, why would I wait until she came here? It’s too obvious.”
“What you say is logical, but there is the fact that your new girlfriend seems to have left work in the middle of her shift and no one has seen her since. Who’s to say she didn’t murder your wife in a fit of jealousy or maybe you two were in on it together. Either way I’ll need an alibi.”
Star shook her head. “Fine, whatever. I never returned to the manor after the visit to the morgue. You know that! You drove me home. I spent hours with the local funeral director skyping with another in California trying to honor my wife’s wishes.”
“Great.” Cody said, flipping his notebook open. “I’ll just need the number for that local funeral director.”
Ouija, Death & Wicked Witchery Page 11
