Hex to Pay: A Witch Detective Cozy Mystery

by Stevie Day

  Her phone was ringing. It might have been ringing for some time before she noticed, she wasn’t sure. Grabbing it out of her back pocket—foolishly hoping it was somehow her father—she read the screen: Mr. Lewis, the director of the pet shelter she volunteered at.

  Normally she would answer, but now she just stared at the screen, paralyzed by her panic and confusion. It stopped ringing and forty-five seconds later the voicemail icon appeared at the top of her screen. She pressed it and punched in her four digit code, then listened to the message.

  “Hey Alice,” Mr. Lewis began. “Um, just checking in. You were supposed to come by 11 today? And, um… you didn’t. Which is okay and all. I mean, I’m not mad or anything. You know how much I appreciate you and all the volunteers and the work you do. But it’s not like you to be late or not show up. So I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Please call me when you get this. Or at least shoot me a quick text so I don’t worry. Thanks, Alice.”

  “Shoot,” Alice said out loud. She’d completely forgotten, which was yet another thing she never did. She punched a quick message: “So sorry, Mr. Lewis! Minor emergency this morning. Be in soon!” then pressed send.

  A few seconds later she got his reply: “Glad you’re okay! See you when you get here!”

  Alice rushed to her room to get dressed and, as she was doing so, was relieved to realize her panic was fading. Her heart was still pounding and her mind was still racing, but the total dread and feeling of losing control was subsiding. Maybe the distraction of a phone call was just what she’d needed?

  Now dressed in a simple t-shirt and jean shorts, Alice grabbed her keys and headed for the door. With one hand on the knob, she paused and looked over her shoulder. Mr. Ploppers was sitting in the kitchen doorway, still staring at her. His eyes had returned to their normal green with black slits, and for that she was grateful.

  She walked a few steps over to him and bent down. She reached out to scratch his ears, but he pulled away, which broke Alice’s heart. She didn’t know what he was feeling, not for sure. Was he angry at her? Afraid? Either way, their friendship suddenly seemed damaged and Alice had to fight back tears.

  “I won’t be long, Mr. Ploppers. Just a couple of hours at the shelter, then I’ll be back to figure this out. I promise.”

  He meowed once, and that was all Alice could take. She raced out the door.

  13

  Alice sat in her old station wagon and tried her best to collect herself. She was late, and she hated being late, but taking that one extra minute before leaving could do a world of good for her psyche. Her heart had slowed down to something closer to normal, which was good. But her mind still raced.

  One thing was for sure: dabbling in dark magic had been a terrible mistake. She didn’t know why it had caused her to lose touch with her magic, but she was certain that was the cause. And being unable to contact her dad to get an explanation had made it all that much worse.

  How long would this last? What would she have to do to get it back? Was there a ritual, a spell?

  What if it was gone for good?

  No. That thought was too much to bear, so she forced it aside. For now. Alice wasn’t the type to avoid issues, but she was also wise enough to recognize her own frazzled state. Now wasn’t the time to try to solve everything. Best just to get to the shelter and occupy herself with some work.

  She put the key in the ignition and turned it. Ol’ Gertie just sat there, refusing to start. Alice’s eyes grew wide as the realization dawned on her. Ol’ Gertie was ancient and beat up, and for the past few years had run only because Alice would sprinkle a little magic on her. And right now, Alice had no magic to sprinkle.

  How long had it been since the car had any real mechanical service other than an oil change? Alice couldn’t remember.

  “Keep it together, Alice,” she said. “Keep it together.”

  She got out, slamming the creaky door shut. It was a beautiful day, and the shelter was only about a half hour’s walk. She loved to walk. So maybe a nice walk on a clear day was exactly what she needed.

  The walk wasn’t exactly what Alice needed. It was humid, sticky, and uncomfortable. These were things that normally didn’t bother her much, but today she grumbled the whole way.

  When she got to the shelter, Mr. Lewis was there to hold the door open. The tall, slender man welcomed her inside.

  “Shoot, Mr. Lewis, I’m sorry. I didn’t even think to call or text. My car wouldn’t start and I just started walking.”

  “It’s not a problem at all, Alice. I was just worried.” And he was. Alice could see it on his kind face.

  “How about we just chalk this up to a ‘bad morning’ and see if the day can be saved with a ‘good afternoon’?” she asked.

  “Sounds like a plan,” he answered with a relieved smile.

  “Whatcha got for me?”

  “First, make sure you grab an extra volunteer shirt from behind the desk.”

  “Doggone it!” Alice yelled, slapping herself on the leg. “I can’t believe I forgot my shirt on top of everything else.”

  “No worries, Ali—”

  “It’s a worry to me!” she snapped and immediately regretted it. “Oh jeez, Mr. Lewis. I’m so sorry. It’s just been—”

  “A bad morning,” he finished for her. “I know. I’ve had them, Alice. We all have. Stop being so hard on yourself.”

  Alice nodded and lowered her eyes. “Thanks. I guess I’m just not used to bad days.”

  He laughed. “Then you’re incredibly blessed. Even more reason not to let a single bad one get you down.”

  Alice had to wonder, though… What if this was just the first of many more to come? What if she messed up so bad that she never got to use magic again? What would she do then?

  “Anyway,” Mr. Lewis continued. “I’m really glad you’re here. Someone dropped off a feral cat in a crate sometime before we opened this morning. Just left her on the doorstep. She’s filthy, angry, and terrified. Every time any of us have tried to reach in to pull her out, she hisses and scratches. A real wildcat.”

  Alice giggled. “Literally.”

  “Hmm,” Mr. Lewis said, realizing his unintended joke. He smiled. “I guess I’m pretty clever, even if it is an accident.”

  Alice laughed again, extremely grateful to have her mood lightened.

  “Anyway!” her boss started again. “I told everyone to just back off until you got here. You’ve always had a way of calming the animals, and I figured I’d give you a shot at her.”

  “Oh, man,” Alice said. “So the poor thing had to stay in that crate all morning because I’m having a bad day and was late?”

  Mr. Lewis waved her off. “Stop worrying. We put food and water in there. She’s fine. And while she hasn’t touched her food, she did drink a bit.”

  “Okay. I’ll see what I can do.”

  “If you can, bring her right over for a flea bath. Give her a good cleaning. She’s filthy and I don’t want to take any chance of her infesting the rest of the shelter.”

  “Will do,” Alice said, while giving him a thumbs up.

  “Gretchen’s back there. She can help if you need it.”

  “Oh, jeez,” Alice said. “Which Gretchen is it today? I don’t think I can take mean Gretchen.”

  “Hard to tell.” Mr. Lewis frowned ponderously. “She tried to take the cat out and got scratched pretty good. So she might be a little grumpy about that. But overall I think she’s nice Gretchen today.”

  Alice had her doubts. “Well, she’s always nice Gretchen to you, Mr. Lewis.”

  “Oh, I’ve seen mean Gretchen, believe me.”

  Alice rolled her eyes playfully and made her way toward the back, stopping by the desk to grab a volunteer shirt and throw it on over the shirt she was already wearing.

  Mr. Lewis ran a spotless and conscientious shelter, and Alice had always been proud to volunteer here. While potential pet adopters largely had free rein to wander around the place, “the back”
was generally off limits without an invitation and escort. It wasn’t that there was anything seedy going on. The workers simply needed an area where they could wash, clean, and care for the more troubled animals.

  Troubled shelter animals were one of Alice’s specialties.

  She went in the back and immediately spotted the crate containing the feral cat resting on the washing table. She started to walk toward it when she spotted Gretchen with her back turned, puttering about on the other side of the room. Alice inhaled deeply and said in as even a tone as she could muster, “Good morning, Gretchen.”

  “Morning?” Gretchen barked without looking away from whatever had her attention. “Is that supposed to be a joke?”

  Great, Alice thought. Mean Gretchen, after all.

  “Yeah, it kinda was,” Alice said, trying her best to avoid sarcasm. She suspected the older woman might have been bi-polar. One day she could be sweet and caring, worrying about Alice and her private life. The next she could be cold and dismissive, haughty and judgmental.

  She also believed Alice was a witch.

  Alice was confident Gretchen didn’t know she was a witch. She just believed she was a witch. Gretchen had caught her levitating a long-eared rabbit one day, something Alice tried her best to pretend hadn’t happened. But on top of that, Gretchen had also seen Alice “talk” to the animals numerous times, seemingly getting them to do whatever she asked.

  And somehow, somewhere, Gretchen had made the connection that Alice simply must be doing it all by magic. And if she was doing it all by magic, then she must be a witch.

  Alice had been kind of impressed that Gretchen had figured out the truth. But ultimately she thought it best to downplay the magic, to make it seem like it was all in Gretchen’s imagination. That didn’t really stop Gretchen from making the occasional comment though, which Alice simply laughed off.

  And for the record, the levitating bunny had the time of his life.

  “You gonna talk to that cat?” Gretchen snapped almost expectantly.

  “I’m gonna try, yeah,” Alice said, moving toward the crate. “She scratched you?”

  “Yes, she most certainly did,” Gretchen said, moving toward Alice and the feral cat.

  “I’m sorry to hear that. She must be really scared.”

  “Scared’s no excuse.”

  “No, I suppose not.” Alice peeked inside the crate, a small, dirty beige contraption barely large enough to hold the cat within.

  “Whoa,” Alice said. The cat was filthy, all skin and bones. She guessed the animal’s fur was white beneath all that dirt, with some black spots of various sizes on her back and face. There was no way Alice would be able to guess her actual age, but she was definitely an adult cat.

  The poor thing sat scrunched up all the way in the back of the cage, her wide eyes staring at Alice.

  “Hey there, sweetie,” Alice cooed. “How’re you doing?”

  The cat didn’t react at all.

  “Well, do your thing, Alice. Talk to the animals,” Gretchen prodded, arms crossed.

  Since arriving and talking to Mr. Lewis, and now Gretchen, Alice had forgotten all about the events of the previous night and this morning. That had been good for her anxiety, which she suddenly realized was gone. But with Gretchen’s mocking of her ability to seemingly talk to animals, it all came back to Alice and hit her like a ton of bricks.

  “Oh no,” she whispered. “I can’t. What was I thinking?” She turned and faced Gretchen, eyes wide while panic suddenly rose up again as if it’d simply been hiding out of sight, ready to strike at a moment’s notice. “I can’t talk to this cat!”

  Gretchen was taken aback and actually retreated a step away from Alice. “What…? What do you mean, you can’t talk to it?”

  Alice’s hand went to her mouth as she tried desperately to again slow her suddenly racing mind and rapid breathing.

  “I just… I can’t,” was all she could manage.

  Gretchen looked at her, silent and confused. She put her hands on her hips and let out one of the judgmental harrumphs that Alice had always been able to smile and laugh off. Now it just made her want to cry.

  Just then, Mr. Lewis came in.

  “How goes it, ladies? Any luck?”

  The two women looked at each other in silence. Mr. Lewis, to his credit, immediately recognized something was off and walked over to Alice. “Alice? What is it?”

  “I’m so sorry, Mr. Lewis. I… I think I should’ve stayed home today.”

  “Alice, how many times do I have to tell you? It’s fine! It’s okay to have a bad day. Go home. We can handle this little gal.”

  “Are you sure? I mean, I could—”

  “Nope, I won’t hear any more. Go home.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Lewis. I’m really sorry. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

  “Nothing to make up for, Alice. Just feel better. Gretchen, you mind giving Alice a ride home? Her car is broken down.”

  “No, that’s not necess—” Alice started.

  “Okay,” Gretchen said, though her snappy tone was replaced with one that was bordering on understanding. “I thought I was having a bad day, but clearly something’s got you very upset. Maybe on the drive you can tell me about it.” She brushed past Alice and Mr. Lewis as she headed out the door.

  Usually mean Gretchen and nice Gretchen days were mutually exclusive, but it seemed to Alice that nice Gretchen may very well make an appearance today.

  That, or Gretchen simply took solace in someone else having a worse day than her. Either way, her mood seemed to be better.

  Mr. Lewis laughed once the two were alone. “Now that I think about it, maybe I shouldn’t have volunteered her to drive you.”

  “It’s okay. She can actually be all right to talk to sometimes. I don’t have a lot of… older women in my life.” It was true; Gretchen was a bit older than Alice’s mother would have been, but any older woman seemed to help fill the void Alice sometimes felt, at least slightly.

  “Okay, Alice. See you in a couple of days. Call me if you need anything.”

  “Will do,” she said. Before leaving, she made her way over to the crate and the scared cat inside. “And I’ll make it up to you too, sweetie. I promise.”

  14

  Gretchen’s Honda Civic was a luxury car compared to Alice’s 70s-era station wagon.

  Alice wasn’t exactly in the mood to spend more time with Gretchen, but the drive was much shorter than the walk. It would be over quickly, even if Gretchen was driving twenty-five miles per hour in a forty-five zone.

  “Thanks for the ride, Gretchen,” Alice said once they turned down the main road.

  “Yeah,” Gretchen grumbled, rubbing at the cat scratches on her arm.

  “Do you remember the way? It’s been awhile since you—”

  “I remember, dear.”

  The ‘dear’ felt tacked on, like she was trying to soften her initially snippy tone. Alice appreciated the effort, at least.

  “What are you working on these days?” Gretchen asked, continuing to make an effort to soften her tone.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You’re still a ‘private eye,’ right? You got any cases or whatever?”

  “Well, yeah. But nothing I really want to talk about. Err, client confidentiality and all.”

  “I understand. It must be easy solving cases, huh? Just wave your magic wand, cast your magic spell, and have the answer just handed over to you.”

  Alice laughed awkwardly, unsure how to respond. Usually it was easy to laugh off Gretchen’s “magic” comments, but with all magic having escaped her since last night, Alice didn’t find it so funny anymore.

  Alice tried to change the subject. “What about you? What are you up to?”

  “You mean besides picking up your slack?”

  “Jeez, Gretchen. It was one day. You know I’m not usually late.”

  “Well, don’t let it become a habit. I’ve got other things to do besides cleaning up the me
sses all you people leave for me.”

  Alice slumped back in her chair, praying for this ride to end. Perhaps if she jumped…?

  “I just expected more out of you, Alice. You remind me of a younger version of myself.”

  Alice cringed, thinking, Oh Lord, I sure hope not.

  “I had so much potential, so many things I could have accomplished, but I didn’t keep high enough standards for myself. Now look where I am.”

  At least Alice and Gretchen both agreed that the older woman could be living a better life.

  Still, Alice made the conscious choice not to defend herself and to simply remain quiet. She couldn’t think of a thing to say, anyway. And at this point, she was starting to wonder if Gretchen were right. Alice had definitely lowered her standards for herself last night…

  She focused her eyes on the passing trees.

  Gretchen continued, though this time she lost all her bite, sounding more hopeless than anything. “I just… You’re okay, Alice. I don’t want to see you become like so many of the others.”

  “It was just one bad day, Gretchen.”

  “Okay, good. People rely on you, Alice. Animals too. Your work is important and—”

  “Please, Gretchen,” Alice whispered.

  Gretchen held up a hand. “Okay then.” She picked up speed and soon arrived at Alice’s house.

  Alice barely waited for the car to come to a complete stop before hopping out, mumbling a perfunctory “Thank you,” before running into the relative safety of her home.

  Alice slammed the front door shut. She rarely carried a purse, so all she had in her pockets today were her car keys and phone. She tossed the keys on the little table by the door and was about to do the same with her phone when she spotted Mr. Ploppers.

  He was sitting back on his haunches on the other end of the front hall, staring at her. No greetings. Not even a meow.

  Alice couldn’t figure out what to do next. She just stood by the door, looking back at Mr. Ploppers.