Witch Inheritance (A Mackenzie Coven Mystery Book 1)

by Sonia Parin

  A best friend, yes. But not the best of role models for a witch in the making. “Um… Okay, I’m open to suggestions. Here, book, book, book, book. Here, boy…” She sensed Mirabelle rolling her eyes.

  “Picture the book coming to you.”

  Lexie flexed her fingers and stretched her hands out. “Do I need to close my eyes?”

  “Whatever works. Just hold the image in your mind.”

  “Here we go. It’s worth a try.” Something in the top shelf shifted. Lexie focused on gold binding and lapis lazuli scrollwork. Another book shifted. And another and another.

  “Your thoughts are too hazy. Try to be more specific. Think St James.”

  All the books that had slipped to the edge of the shelves, slipped back into place. Lexie scanned the shelves and focused on the family name.

  Something moved behind her. Lexie swung round and looked at a painting above the stone fireplace. It rattled against the wall. “I think we’re on to something here.”

  “Focus on the name.”

  The painting moved, much like a door would, slowly easing open.

  “Well, well. Look at this...” The book sat behind the painting, in a small alcove built into the wall.

  “I hear someone coming. Quickly, put it away,” Mirabelle urged.

  Reginald strode into the library wearing a deep crimson satin robe. His cousins followed behind him.

  “Is he quiet dead?” someone asked.

  Reginald came to a stop in front of the desk. “He appears to be.”

  “No pulse,” Lexie offered. “I’m sorry for your loss. We should call the authorities now.”

  Reginald cleared his throat. “No need for that. Taffy has already alerted our people.”

  “Who are they?”

  He dismissed her question with a slight wave of his hand. “Everyone back to bed. There’s nothing else to see here.”

  They all responded without a murmur or the slightest hint of curiosity about what had happened.

  “Not you,” he said to Lexie.

  She tried to move but her feet failed to respond. Lexie eyed the window behind the desk.

  “Sit.”

  “I prefer to stand… by the window.”

  “Sit.”

  “If you insist.” She sat next to the woman who still hadn’t stirred. “Any idea who this is?”

  “She is my fiancée. Henrietta Smithson-Wight. She arrived earlier than expected with some other guests.”

  This must have been after the incident at lunch, some time during the early afternoon while she’d been out cold, Lexie assumed.

  “There was to be an announcement this weekend. My uncle Henry had given his approval for our marriage to go ahead.”

  Lexie frowned. She ran her fingertip between her eyebrows as if trying to smooth over her frown but it remained in place. Had she imagined it or had Reginald sounded incensed by his uncle’s approval?

  He turned to face her, his hands behind his back. “Now that he’s gone, your services will no longer be required.”

  “Oh…” When he moved again, she thought she caught sight of a shadow which was odd because there was nothing odd about a shadow… except this one appeared to be…

  Like an inky black fog.

  “You don’t need to concern yourself with any of this. So you are free to leave.”

  Concern? Lexie drew a blank. What did she have to worry about? “All right. Fine. I’ll do that.” In fact, what was she doing up and about at this time of night?

  His gaze slanted toward the bookshelves. “You may leave now.”

  “Okay.” She rose and made a beeline for the door while a part of her balked.

  Whoa. Hang on.

  She’d come to the library to look for something…

  She turned to close the door and saw Reginald standing in front of the bookshelves, brushing his fingers along his chin much the same way she did when she was trying to figure something out.

  “He doesn’t know where the book is,” she murmured and remembered. Yes. She’d come looking for the St James family book.

  “That doesn’t sound right,” Mirabelle whispered. “The heir would have been prepared for this moment. Henry would have shown him the book and given him clear instructions.”

  “Maybe it’s not Henry who wasn’t Henry, but rather Reginald who is not… Reginald.”

  “An impostor?”

  “Does it matter? You heard him. I’ve been dismissed. I can go home. This no longer concerns us.”

  “No, you can’t leave.”

  “I can’t? Why not?”

  “We have unfinished business,” Mirabelle said. “Henry’s request still stands. When we enter into an agreement, we must see it through to completion. There is no way around it.”

  “But—”

  “Reginald should have known better than to ask you to leave. He, of all people, would know the rules. Unfinished business would only hover over us like a dark cloud.”

  “And if Reginald is an impostor?”

  “More reason for us to hang around and figure out what’s happened.”

  As Lexie made her way up the stairs, she saw new faces peering around corners. The newly arrived guests, she presumed.

  “What’s happened?” one of them asked.

  “There will be an announcement made in the morning,” Taffy said as he strode along the hallway. “Everyone, please return to your bedchambers.”

  As Lexie reached the top landing, she looked down in time to see Reginald’s fiancée step out of the library looking as if nothing had happened.

  Had she been beguiled into complacency?

  The day she’d arrived she’d felt Reginald standing at the top of the stairs looking down at her. She’d had the strange sensation of him trying to get inside her head…

  Her thoughts shifted, almost as if someone had given her a prompt.

  Lexie tugged at her faded t-shirt. Why was she dressed in such dreadful clothes?

  Sighing, she returned to her room and changed into a flowing nightgown made of the softest silk. She swirled around. She could live like a princess for the rest of her days and never worry about anything… She could…

  Her fingers twitched.

  She looked around her in confusion. An overwhelming impulse surged through her and she propelled herself toward the window, drawing it open to stick her head out.

  “Whoa. That was close.”

  “Lexie, what’s been happening? We need an update.”

  “Hey, Cat. You missed all the excitement. Henry’s gone. And we found the book—”

  “Mirabelle told me. It’s strange. It should have been kept in a prominent place. Like a trophy. Not hidden away. The book is an object of pride for the St James family. We’re now thinking it must have been tampered with. Has anything else happened?”

  “The guests arrived early. In fact, now that I think about it, that sort of adds to possible suspects.” Lexie blinked hard and told Cat about seeing Reginald’s fiancée coming out of the library.

  “Are you suggesting Henry was killed?”

  “Well, yeah. Isn’t it obvious?”

  “It might be to you, but not to me. If Mirabelle had had any rising suspicious she would have mentioned them, but she didn’t.”

  “So I’m the only one who sees it. That’s odd because half the time I’m floating around in a daze. I’m surprised I haven’t burst into an endless rendition of all the tunes from The Sound of Music.”

  “I didn’t know you were a fan of musicals.”

  “I’m not.” Lexie made a choking sound. “I once broke up with a boyfriend because he lived for Gilbert and Sullivan. Every weekend he had to see a production even if it meant traveling across the country for it. That exceeds enthusiasm and verges on unhealthy obsession. I swear he was planning some sort of musical wedding.”

  “Have the authorities been called in?”

  “No, Reginald said they were contacting their people, whatever that meant. As for his fianc�
�e… I’m thinking she might be in on whatever is going on. Reginald mentioned getting approval for his marriage. When he said it, I had the impression he harbored some resentment.”

  “Maybe Henry wasn’t entirely pleased with his heir’s choice of bride,” Catherine suggested.

  “For the sake of argument, let’s say Reginald didn’t have a choice.”

  “A forced marriage?”

  “That would be incentive enough to want to give Henry the flick and take over the inheritance so he can start making his own decisions and choices.”

  “You might have something there. Did you manage to look through the book?”

  “No. Reginald sent me on my way. Oh… before I forget, he doesn’t know where the book is.”

  “Impossible. He has to know. Henry would never have been so remiss.”

  “Henry probably thought he’d outlive them all,” Lexie suggested.

  “The more I think about it, the more I believe there’s something strange about that book. It’s supposed to contain the names of the heirs and the words for the seal that puts in place the protection over the house and prevents three of us from entering at once.”

  “There must be more to it than that. House St James is…” Lexie tried to put her finger on that special something she felt about the place. “It makes me think of Disney World where everything is bright, beautiful and wonderful, but there’s also something lurking about.”

  “Maybe something’s been added to the book.”

  “Added or taken away. Remove a brick from the foundations and, in time, everything comes crumbling down.”

  “Did you sense the malevolent presence near the book?”

  Lexie shook her head. “The inky black fog was nowhere to be seen… or felt. Hang on…” She leaned out the window and scooped in another breath. “Actually… I think I saw it. Maybe I’m wrong and it was just a shadow. I think I should pull up a chair and curl up here by the window. Hey, there should be some sort of hazard pay involved. Compensation for the risks I’m taking. No one mentioned anything about me jumping right into the thick of murder and mayhem.” She waited for a response. “And stop ditching me.”

  “Sorry, I thought I felt someone nearby. Mirabelle is going through the records to see if there have been any reported incidents in the past. As far as she knows, this is the first time House St James has experienced… well, we haven’t determined what this is so we can’t put a name to it.”

  “Death by inky black fog.”

  “That is merely the tool, and we’re not even sure that’s what caused Henry’s death. Still… we have to figure out where it is coming from, who is behind it all.”

  “What if the person behind the inky black fog killed Henry? He’d been drinking. Who knows? He might have been poisoned.”

  “We’ll have to go down and get the book but be careful.”

  “We? You’re way over there, in the safety and comfort of your cozy cottage while I’m the one sticking my neck out.”

  “Where’s your gratitude? When you called for our help, we threw ourselves into the task. Do you have any idea what it took for me to play the piano?”

  “Thank you. I’d forgotten.”

  “Not that we expect any gratitude. We all try to do our part.”

  “Go ahead and say it. I should stop grumbling and get on with it.”

  Lexie heard whistling.

  “Right. Let’s do this. I’m going to make sure the coast is clear. Reginald must have given up his search by now.” She strode toward the door. “Hang on. Henry might still be there.”

  “And? What do you think he’ll do? Reanimate himself just so he can scare the daylights out of you?”

  “Tease all you like.” She strained to hear the slightest sound. “I feel you breathing down my neck.”

  “That should reassure you. I’m sticking close to you and… I’ve got your back.”

  Reaching the end of the hallway, she looked around the corner and raised a halting hand. “There are people outside the library,” she whispered. A man emerged and stood by the library door looking in. “Okay, looks like they’re taking Henry away. I’m guessing that’s the family doctor and he’s probably signed a death certificate. That means he didn’t find anything suspicious about Henry’s death. It’s too convenient.”

  “You’ve developed quite a few opinions.”

  “I’m getting into the spirit of this. Henry didn’t look ill so his death couldn’t have been expected. Also, Reginald said he was getting ‘his people’ to take care of things. Doesn’t that sound suspicious to you?”

  “This does complicate matters. And I see you didn’t bother to change out of your silk nightgown. Are you getting attached to these clothes?”

  “Don’t know what you mean.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Like I could’ve danced all night.”

  “That’s what I mean.”

  Lexie rolled her eyes. “Okay, they’re carting him away now.” She watched Reginald walk the man she assumed was the doctor to the door. “I’m going to have to return to my room. He’s bound to come up this way.” She tiptoed back and stood behind the closed door with her ear pressed to it. Ten minutes later, she heard footsteps walking past her room and along the hallway. Lexie waited a few more minutes and then made her move.

  Once in the library, she went straight to the painting hanging over the fireplace and withdrew the book from its hiding place. “I’ll have to risk turning a table lamp on.” She set the book down on a side table and turned to the first page. “Nothing but names. All handwritten.”

  “Maybe the magic is in the actual writing or it could be a combination of the writing and the spoken word.”

  Lexie looked over at the desk. The glass had been cleared away. “I wish I’d had the foresight to hide the glass. It might have had traces of the drink. We could have had it tested for any suspicious substances.”

  “This isn’t an episode of CSI.”

  “So what exactly is it you girls do? I am getting the feeling there is something more to the both of you than I originally imagined.”

  “We… We assist with problems and find solutions.”

  “Do you have any idea how cryptic that sounds?”

  “Obviously, if someone comes to us it’s because they know we have special… powers, so the issues we deal with are unusual.”

  “Let me guess, one of your gifts is avoidance. You’re not exactly being straight with me.”

  “You’re accusing me of avoidance? You, who took a ten year break away from your duties and true heritage…”

  Lexie tapped a page. “All the heirs are listed in succession. Back in the twelfth century, the head of the house ended up crossing several heirs off the list.”

  “Victims of plague?” Catherine suggested.

  “Or other types of interference.” Lexie turned the pages until she found the most current one. “Here’s the list of Henry’s successors. Okay, this is interesting and changes everything. Evangeline Hemsworth is older than Reginald and listed above him. How did we actually come to think Reginald was next in line?”

  “We assumed.”

  “Did we assume or were we led to believe it? I wonder if Evangeline knows how to find the book?”

  Chapter Eight

  “How is everyone doing this morning?” Lexie asked as she took a seat next to Ellsworth James.

  It was the morning after Henry’s unexpected demise. Taffy had brought her breakfast in bed and had told her everyone would be gathering in the morning room promptly at eleven.

  Once she’d stopped trying to figure out why she’d been included, she’d fixed her focus on preparing for the gathering by spending half an hour with her head sticking out the window and breathing in fresh air until it made her feel herself again. She hoped the effects would see her through the meeting.

  Ellsworth glanced at her. “I thought I’d have trouble sleeping but the shock must have knocked me right out. Dreadful business a
nd the timing could not have been worse.” He drew her attention to the small group clustered by the drinks cart Taffy had brought in. “Our new guests are not taking it well.”

  “I met Henrietta last night,” Lexie said thinking there was nothing wrong with drinks at eleven, although she’d never tried it herself…

  “Ah, yes. The screamer.”

  “How well do you know her?”

  “I know of her. It was the whole purpose of this weekend. Introduce her to the family. Get to know her… She hails from an industrious lot. Most of them are inventors of sorts. Her money comes from a vitamin supplement business.”

  Alchemists.

  The word popped into her mind and stamped itself there. Once this was all over, she’d have to get some pointers from Mirabelle. In the past, she’d had intuitive thoughts, answers to questions she would never in a million years have been able to even understand. She guessed it had something to do with connecting with nature… to the flow of energy and the greater intelligence around her.

  “Are we all here?” Reginald asked, drawing everyone’s attention to him.

  Ellsworth looked over his shoulder and then leaned toward Lexie. “We are missing someone,” he murmured.

  A brief look around the room was enough to determine who the missing someone was.

  Evangeline Hemsworth.

  “As you may have heard, Henry St James died suddenly last night.” Reginald’s voice took on a somber tone. “His private physician has confirmed he had been experiencing some serious health concerns which he had chosen to ignore.”

  Health issues. How convenient. So, according to Reginald, Henry had died of negligence.

  Evangeline still hadn’t made an appearance and Reginald didn’t seem at all concerned about her absence.

  Lexie wondered if he realized his behavior gave rise to suspicion.

  What would he say if someone pointed out the oversight?

  She wouldn’t be surprised if he apologized and put it down to the lingering shock of his uncle’s sudden demise.

  “After giving the matter serious consideration, it has been decided the weekend’s house party will proceed as planned…”