It's All Sixes

by Cindy Stark

  “Is this because you think I tried to kill myself?”

  Hazel couldn’t bear to give her an honest answer, so she tried for a half truth. “It’s because I’m worried about you, and I care.”

  Anya gave her several short nods in response. “Okay, then. Thank you.”

  She needed only a few moments to gather some personal things, and then they stepped out into a light rain. Scents of earth rose up to greet them, and Hazel filled her lungs with the delightful smell.

  Anya turned her face to the sky, and a look of peace settled over her.

  Hazel sent silent thanks to the Blessed Mother for her gifts that day. When she’d headed to Anya’s she hadn’t expected to return with a houseguest, but everything about it seemed right.

  Police science might solve many things, but her magic was what had sent her to Anya’s today, and she couldn’t be more grateful. She’d help this dear lady through her tough times, and they’d both be the better for it.

  Fifteen

  Hazel stood in the quiet of the workroom at her teashop and measured a scoop of lavender buds. She added them to the mint leaves she’d already poured into the tea strainer and closed it. She’d long loved the soothing qualities of lavender tea, and the idea of enhancing it with mint intrigued her. If it worked well, she could add the new blend to her summer collection.

  The tinkle of the bell on her outdoor registered, but she didn’t react. Gretta would handle any customers who came in.

  “Hey, beautiful.”

  Hazel inhaled a sharp breath and turned to find a sexy police chief standing in the doorway to her workroom. An easy smile slid across her lips. She loved his surprised visits. Well, any visits, really. “Hello, handsome.”

  Peter stepped in and sidled up next to her. “Whatcha brewin’?”

  She lifted the tea strainer. “Sniff.”

  He did as she requested and drew his brows together. “Mint and …lavender?”

  She widened her eyes in appreciation. “Very good, Chief Parrish. You’re turning into a regular connoisseur.”

  He grinned. “I happen to have a connection to a beautiful w—woman.”

  She shook her head in mock warning. She knew as well as he did that he’d almost slipped and labeled her a witch. Then she smiled. “Lucky you.”

  “I’d say.” He glanced to the tea strainer. “Is it any good?”

  Hazel anchored the tea strainer to her favorite teacup, lifted the ceramic pot of hot water she’d retrieved a few minutes ago, and poured. “We’re about to see.”

  He sniffed again. “Smells good. I bet lavender would go really well with lemon, too.”

  She nodded slowly and thoughtfully. “Hmm…I like the idea. Maybe I should create a summer line of lavender teas. I could use your idea, this one, and then one with, say…chamomile for bedtime.”

  Peter slid an arm around her waist, touching her but not hampering her in her work. “Sounds like a great plan.”

  She checked her watch to time it and then turned to him, slipping her arms around his neck. “You know I love you for your brilliant mind.”

  He gave her a quick peck on the lips. “Funny, that’s the same reason I love you.”

  Hazel lifted a flirtatious brow. “You love me for my mind?”

  He grinned. “That and a few other things.”

  She chuckled and rolled her eyes at his response. “Is there a reason you stopped by, or did you just miss me?”

  He groaned. “How can I answer that? I’ll get more brownie points if I say to see you, but then I won’t be able to tell you what I’ve learned.”

  She furrowed her brows, pretending to seriously consider his question. “Hmm…that is a conundrum. I would say you should always tell the truth and accept the consequences.”

  “That could be dangerous territory for a man.”

  She sent him a teasing smile. “Could be, depending on the woman.”

  Peter studied her for a long moment. “I guess I’ll have to take my chances. My official response is that I’m using the pretense of delivering information on Scooter Maccarino so that I can see you.”

  She drew his head down to hers and kissed him. “You’re too smart for your own good, and don’t keep me waiting any longer.”

  He pulled back, and she sensed the shift into police chief mode. “I don’t think Scooter is our man.”

  “Why not?”

  “I wish you could have been present when we paid him an official visit so that I could get your impression, but to me, he seems a broken man, lost in his sadness.”

  She opened her hands, palms up. “Sounds like a reasonable motivation for me.”

  “Yeah, except there was no fire, no anger left in him. Just utter sadness. Not only that, but when I told him the reason for our visit, he seemed genuinely surprised to learn that Isaac was dead.”

  “Did he seem happy about it?”

  Peter shook his head. “No. He almost seemed sad to hear that news, too. Like he’d lost all the joy in his life and lived a defeated existence.”

  She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Could have been a ploy.”

  He smiled. “I don’t think so, but that’s why I wish you would have been there. You have a keen sense of seeing what others don’t.”

  “It’s called empathy, dear Chief. Being more sensitive to others can be a blessing or a curse.”

  He nodded thoughtfully. “I suppose so.”

  Hazel checked her watch and then lifted the strainer from the cup and set it on a nearby tray. She surveyed the color of the tea and sniffed it. “That should be enough. I’ll let it cool a bit, and we can taste.”

  Peter nodded. “You know, then, Scooter is one less suspect to consider, which doesn’t bode well for Anya.”

  She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. She didn’t do it.”

  Hazel turned and stared him directly in the eyes. “If you trust my intuition, then you’ll believe me when I say I’ve tested her honesty, and she did not kill her husband.”

  He snorted. “How does one test her honesty?”

  She leaned into him and placed her mouth close to his ear. “I used a truth candle.” She pulled back and checked his reaction.

  He seemed skeptical but didn’t outright deny its validity. “Is that a thing?” he asked in a low voice.

  She nodded. “I believe it with my whole heart.”

  “Are you willing to bet your life on it?”

  She leaned close again. “I was willing to give up a month of my life to find out.”

  He stiffened. “You what?”

  She sent him an exasperated look. “I needed to know.”

  His aura darkened. “You do realize that’s a month of my life you also volunteered because I don’t want to be in this world without you.”

  Her heart melted. “It’s probably only from a year that I’d be senile in a nursing home, and we’d be too old to recognize each other.”

  He didn’t seem to be pacified. “Can you guarantee that?”

  “Well…no. But, Peter, Anya wanted to end her life over this. A month of mine for years of hers. That seemed like a fair trade.”

  He snorted. “She said she wasn’t trying to commit suicide, that she’d been upset and hit the tree by accident.”

  That’s what she’d told Hazel, too, but she still wasn’t sure. “Can you guarantee that, Chief Parrish? The poor woman needs someone to believe in her, and she desperately needs a friend. Now that I’ve given her my full support and have her staying with me for a few days has made all the difference in her demeanor. She really needs someone to care.”

  He sighed and plowed his fingers through his hair. “All right. It’s not worth arguing about anyway since it’s a done deal. But I do need a promise that you will not attempt anything so dire again without at least talking to me.”

  She smiled. She could do that. “Deal.”

  She lifted the teacup and sipped, and then handed it to him. “Pretty good, I’d say. Though I might like it better with
a touch of honey.”

  He sipped and nodded. “Hmm…yeah. Might need some sweetness.”

  Hazel added a teaspoon of honey and tried it again. “Yes. Oh, yes. I really like that.”

  He tried it again and smiled. “I think you have a winner.”

  “Perfect.”

  She paused to write the recipe in her book and then turned to him again. “So, let’s say the murderer isn’t Anya and isn’t Scooter. Who would be your next consideration?”

  “His brother, Edmond. He’s made no attempt to disguise his loathing.”

  “But doesn’t that make him less suspicious? Wouldn’t a murderer hide something like that?”

  Peter took another sip of tea and made Hazel smile. “Not necessarily. Haven’t you ever heard of hiding in plain sight?”

  She sighed. “There is that. What about the quacky doctor in Boston? Any luck in that regard?”

  “Not sure. We did find an oncologist by the name of Charles Beidleman, but he hardly seems like the person we’re looking for. I’m having Margaret make more calls this afternoon to health food stores and homeopathic doctors to see if she can get a positive result. I’m not holding my breath, though.”

  Hazel considered that. “Maybe I could visit with Gretchen again and see if I can gain any more information. Maybe I’ll tell her my mother is looking for a natural doctor.”

  He smiled. “Couldn’t hurt. Sometimes the back doors are the best way to get in the theatre.”

  She laughed. “And sometimes witchy ways are better than police procedure and science.”

  He pulled her into his embrace. “I’m not one hundred percent convinced that’s true.”

  She grinned. “Well, here, then. Let me convince you some more.”

  She captured his lips, and he tightened his hold on her. If only she could stay in this moment forever.

  Unfortunately, he broke their kiss and released her. “I need to head back. Let me know what you find out from Gretchen.”

  “I will.”

  She walked with him until they stepped outside her shop. The bright summer sun warmed her, but her heart ached for Peter already. “Gretchen will have to wait until tomorrow, though. I’m supposed to meet with the coven again tonight.”

  “The coven, huh? Sounds fun.”

  “Not fun,” she countered. “Well, the Solstice celebration might be fun, but I can’t stand Polly.”

  His brows shot toward his forehead. “Polly’s a witch? Never would have guessed.”

  She clenched her jaw and silently berated herself. “Shouldn’t have said that.”

  He lifted a finger and traced it down her cheek. “Look, Hazel. I know that you need to keep their identities safe, but I hope you know me well enough to know that I would never do anything to endanger them or you. I’m not asking you to tell me who they are, but if you ever slip like you did, just know their secrets are safe with me, okay?”

  Her heart swelled with love. “Thank you, Peter. I do know that, and I’m grateful that I was smart enough to fall in love with a man with your integrity.”

  He smiled. “Okay, then. I’ll see you later. Call me.”

  She nodded and watched the man of her dreams saunter back to work. She was a very lucky girl, indeed.

  Sixteen

  Hazel was on the brink of her first celebration with her new coven. Summer Solstice, Litha, the longest day of the year had always been one of her favorites. The Solstice festivities of her past had been beach bonfires with lots of food and laughter. She wondered what they’d be like now that participants had to keep their heritage hidden. She hoped the night would still be special even if it was different.

  Cora had warned her not to wear anything out of the ordinary to the Solstice festivities, which totally bummed her out. But, she’d worn her floral skirt and bright lemon-green peasant blouse in town before, so no one should pay her much mind.

  Anya had told her she’d be spending the evening in her paint studio, so that worked out well for them both. When Hazel had explained that she’d likely be out for the better part of the evening and to not wait up, Anya had decided to stay the night in her own bed to see how she’d do.

  Hazel was grateful Anya had found a spark of inspiration again and that she seemed eager to be back in her own house. It gave her hope.

  She packed the two plastic jugs of chilled cinnamon and honey tea she’d brewed earlier and a sleeve of plastic cups into a backpack and zipped it. No one would know that she wasn’t carrying water or perhaps a picnic to eat in the woods.

  Not that she expected anyone to see her.

  Hazel headed for the back door but paused before reaching for the doorknob. Something buried in her subconscious held her back.

  She knew what it was. She’d been trying to push it out of her head for days but couldn’t.

  Polly.

  And Genevieve’s spell book, which technically belonged to Polly now that Belinda had passed on.

  Hazel didn’t want to give it to the rude and snippy witch. She didn’t think she deserved it. She certainly wasn’t sure Polly could be trusted with those powers.

  Yet, she couldn’t stop thinking about it, either. Maybe it wasn’t up to her to decide. Maybe that was best left to the powers in the heavens.

  She growled and grumbled, and then hurried to her bedroom to retrieve the spell book and tuck it into a protective case. Just because she’d have it with her didn’t mean she had to relinquish control. She’d bring it and watch Polly. Then maybe she’d have her answer as to what she should do.

  When Hazel stepped out the back door into her yard, the evening sun still rode high in the sky, which was typical of the longest day of the year. As she slipped into the trees to follow the familiar path through the woods, Mr. Kitty stepped in beside her.

  She glanced down at him as he strode proudly next to her, his tail straight except the little curl at the end. “I didn’t know you were invited to this party.”

  He gave her a short, snippy meow but didn’t bother to look at her as if she’d insulted him with her question.

  She chuckled. “Sorry. Of course, you’re invited. I’m sure Sorcha will be there, too.”

  Mr. Kitty didn’t answer, but she noticed the extra sassy sway to his butt and tail. He could be such a stinker, but he was her stinker. She thought back to the first time she’d encountered him in Clarabelle’s house.

  They had come a long way since then.

  She’d been afraid of him. Afraid of spells. And very afraid of letting Peter anywhere near her.

  Uncertain and sometimes scary times had led her to a good place. She hoped the future continued down the same path.

  Hazel neared the meeting spot and sensed the warning spell that the coven had put in place in case anyone came too close. The moment she passed through, she heard them. Her new family. Witches that she hoped, in time, would come to accept her as one of their own.

  As much as she didn’t care for some of them, she knew they were stronger together. And really, they’d judged her without knowing her. She might have done the same with them.

  Though, if Polly turned out to be like Glenys, this could all end in certain disaster.

  The others, including Cora, arrived sporadically over the next twenty minutes. They laid their Solstice hot and spicy food offerings on a red and orange plaid throw. Polly and several others laid blankets on the wild grass and provided them all a place to sit.

  The mood was much lighter than the previous times she’d met with them, and Hazel sensed that whatever their feelings were for each other, the witches had cast them aside for this evening.

  Victor lit the traditional fire, though theirs was nowhere near the roaring bonfires on the beach she was used to. Probably best considering the town where they lived and the dry tinder scattered all around them.

  Didn’t matter.

  They filled their plates, talked and laughed. Between the spicy soup, cinnamon bread and her tea, Hazel’s mouth buzzed with heat. No one watched he
r with suspicious eyes like they had before. Hazel wondered if she’d truly been accepted and that they’d moved beyond that phase, or if this was a temporary cease fire.

  After nearly an hour of joviality, Polly stood with her beautiful black cat cradled in her arms and glanced over the group. Her expression turned serious, but Hazel sensed no malice coming from her. In fact, watching Polly stroke Sorcha’s fur eased the negative feelings inside Hazel.

  Polly couldn’t be all bad if she and pretty Sorcha adored each other that much.

  “Thank the Blessed Mother,” Polly said. “That we can all be here tonight to celebrate Litha. Though we still live in uncertain times, we are certainly much safer than our ancestors.”

  Murmurs of agreement echoed through the group.

  “Would that someday we shall all live in peace.”

  The group of witches lifted traditional pewter goblets filled with cinnamon tea or mulled wine. “To peace,” they said in unison.

  Hazel drank and enjoyed the sense of community that surrounded her. These people were her people. Despite their differences, they all wanted the same thing.

  Peace and the right to live how they desired.

  “Even in these uncertain times, we can follow what Litha stands for.” Polly continued. “The Summer Solstice reminds us we must continue to look for the light, for the power of life over darkness, and to remember to live life to the fullest each day. Here’s to a blessed summer for us all.”

  They all toasted and drank again.

  Polly started to step away but then paused. “Don’t forget to take home some ashes from the fire for your gardens. I brought plastic baggies. Just make sure the ashes are cool first.”

  People chuckled at her advice as she returned to her spot on the blankets. Sorcha immediately climbed back onto her lap.

  As much as Hazel disliked Polly, she had to concede she was good for the group. She could see that Polly cared deeply about the town and what had happened with their ancestors just as she did.

  Perhaps giving her the spell book that rightly belonged to her line was the right thing to do. It might do wonders in helping to bring the group together.