Witch of a Neighbor (Witch Reborn Book 6)

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Witch of a Neighbor (Witch Reborn Book 6) Page 7

by Belinda White


  I had a feeling that Nancy pretty much split the money she earned with Mason. That boy was getting more and more magic stuff and props for his act every single week. Far more than his meager allowance would allow.

  Then again, the two of them were partners with the show. A combination magic and ventriloquist performance. Sassy, the doll, was pretty much the show-stopper. And yes, I still had to suppress a shiver every single time I saw that doll. Every time that the doll was mentioned for that matter.

  We had a past, me and that doll.

  Granted, that past had now been explained and my recurring nightmares had disappeared, for the most part anyway, but that still didn’t mean I didn’t remember the terror of them.

  Sassy freaked me out. Nothing much I could do about it, though, but grin and bear it. The way things were going, Nancy and Mason just might become famous with that show of theirs.

  If they ever got me to agree to that YouTube video scheme of theirs.

  I was still dragging my feet on giving the okay for that one. Mind you, that wasn’t stopping them from making the videos, just from sharing them online.

  If ever they got my nod, the two of them intended to be able to hit the ground running. Knowing them, they’d take the world by storm, too.

  Kind of why I was dragging my heels so hard. I wanted them to have a regular childhood to remember before the fame and fortune hit.

  And yes, just maybe I was personally dreading that fame and fortune part, too. A lot of work goes into that kind of thing. Work that wouldn’t be just on the kids.

  Orville looked over at me. We were still out in front of the shop.

  “I was thinking we might drive out to pay a brief visit to Trent Jones,” he said.

  I nodded. “Funny. I was thinking the same thing.” There had to be some kind of connection between Morgan getting worried and acting all paranoid and the last burglary she’d done. And as far as the records showed us, that burglary was the theft of that guitar from the Jones’ residence.

  Sounded like a logical place to start to me.

  Chapter 12

  The Jones’ residence was a nice one. Not overly showy, like my sister Sapphire’s new digs, mind you, but nice all the same.

  A two-story home with a large wraparound porch and perfectly landscaped yard and grounds. The backyard had an in-ground pool with a gorgeous deck and even its very own little changing house.

  For the record, that little changing house was bigger than the one Patty currently lived in full time. She was into the whole tiny home thing. The pool house was plenty big enough for that kind of thing. If one was into that sort of living.

  Me? I liked my space, dang it. Where did those tiny house dwellers keep all their stuff? And how did you go through life without accumulating stuff to keep, to begin with?

  I mention the pool, and the pool house, because that’s where we found Trent Jones. After getting no answer from ringing the doorbell, Orville and I had walked around the home to the backyard.

  Trent was currently in the process of opening his pool.

  “Isn’t a little chilly yet for outdoor swimming?” I asked him, eyeing the pristine water of the pool. Funny how I’d never considered how nice it might be to have one’s own personal swimming hole. Might just be something to consider. After all, I didn’t have to save my money for the Wilson property to go on sale now. That would not happen again any time soon.

  The man turned to face us and straightened. He must have recognized Orville because he didn’t appear too upset about the two of us taking the liberty of tracking him down.

  “Actually, it’s just about perfect weather for it.” Then he smiled. “If one has a pool heater of course.”

  “Ah,” I said. That made sense.

  He held out his hand to Orville and then to me for a quick shake. My estimation of the man went up a peg or two for that. Most people fail to offer a handshake to a woman partner. It felt good not being forgotten with that courtesy for once.

  “What can I help you with today, sheriff?”

  Orville shook his head. “I gave that title up months ago. I’m just a private Joe now. Nothing official at all about our visit, but I do have some questions for you, if you could spare a few minutes.”

  The hesitation was brief, but it was there. For a split second there, I thought we were about to get to our walking papers. After all, Private Joes, as Orville called us, couldn’t really require anyone to volunteer to talk with us. That perk left when Orville gave up his badge.

  Finally, he motioned to a set of chaise lounges by the pool. We all sat, and Orville glanced over at me. I gave him a curt nod. As far as I was concerned, this was his kind of show. We each brought our own talents to our little partnership.

  This kind of thing was Orville’s specialty, not mine.

  “I was wondering about that break-in you had a few weeks ago. I believe you had a guitar stolen?”

  Trent nodded. “That’s right.” He didn’t sound too happy about it, either. “I have guitars that are far more expensive than the one they took too. Go figure they’d pass them up and take my own personal favorite playing guitar.”

  Orville frowned. “Could they have known it was your favorite?”

  The man shrugged. “It’s possible. I play with a few friends every now and again. Anyone who’d seen us play would see what guitar I favored overall.”

  “Was there anything else taken?”

  “Not a doggone thing. Just that one guitar. Well, and its case and stand. Like the burglar had an agenda or something. In and out pretty dang quick too. I was only gone for an hour or so that night.” He looked down at his feet. “We went to a party for my wife’s company. A senior executive was retiring or something. Mavis said it was a have to attend kind of thing. So we went. Didn’t mean I had to stay all that long, though. I got out just as soon as I could and came back home.”

  “And Mrs. Jones?” I asked.

  He glanced over at me. “She stayed a little longer. Her people, after all. She just required me to make an appearance. We had a deal going in that I’d stay an hour and then leave. Business parties aren’t my style.”

  “Did you discover the burglary right away?” Orville asked.

  Trent nodded. “Yes, I did.” He hesitated. “As I said, business parties aren’t my groove. I needed to play a little to soothe my nerves.” He grimaced. “Not that my nerves got soothed that night.”

  “And you called the police immediately?”

  Trent swallowed and looked away. “Pretty much, yes.”

  It was a struggle, but I kept my eyebrows down. They tend to go up on their own when I can tell someone is blatantly lying to me. And for some reason, Trent Jones was lying about that immediate call to the police.

  But why would he do that?

  He must have seen my look, even with my eyebrows in place, because after a few seconds, he went on to explain. “I wanted to see if anything else was missing first, you know? I mean, who goes to the risk and trouble of breaking into a place just to steal one thing?”

  Okay. So that made sense. In a way. I still didn’t like the way he had looked away when he’d first answered the question, though. Rather thought there was still a lie in there somewhere that we might need to dig out.

  “We keep calling it a break-in, but as far as I’ve read, there wasn’t any sign of forced entry. Was there?”

  Trent shook his head. “No.” His voice dropped. “For all the world, it was like they had a blasted key.”

  The man wasn’t meeting our eyes. I didn’t like that. I was starting to think that key comment was significant. Like just maybe Trent Jones had worked out all for himself exactly who his burglar had been.

  Very interesting thought, that.

  “Who had keys to your house?”

  Trent slowly raised his eyes to meet Orville’s gaze. “Supposedly? Just me and the wife.”

  “And why do you say supposedly?”

  Trent took a deep breath. “Because we hav
en’t lived here more than a couple of months. And I was stupid and didn’t have all the locks changed when we moved in. The front door, yes. But the back door’s lock had a chain, and I stupidly thought that was good enough.”

  “Was the chain cut?” I asked.

  “No. But they only work when you set them. Mavis wasn’t very good at remembering to do that.” He shook his head. “The door has a new lock now, of course, but too little too late for me.”

  We sat there in silence for a good, long minute. No way was I breaking it. I knew my man’s tactics by now. He was giving the man time to think about things. Like who he was talking to.

  Finally, Orville looked him dead in the eyes. “Is there anything you aren’t telling us about that burglary? Did you find any indication of who might have done it? Was something left behind?”

  Trent looked into Orville’s eyes, but I could tell the man wanted nothing more than to look away. Orville had hit on something, all right. Now it was just time to see if the man would own up to it or not. If he wouldn’t, then that said a lot right there.

  “I didn’t find anything left behind, no.” He hesitated, then took another deep breath. “Look, when I found the missing guitar, I did notice something. A hint of perfume. Not one of Mavis’s scents, either. My wife has finer tastes than that one.”

  “But you recognized it all the same, didn’t you?”

  He nodded. “I did. It was the same scent that Morgan Truesdell wore.” Yet another deep breath. “Guess that makes me a suspect in her murder, huh?”

  Well, yes. Now that the man mentioned it, it rather did at that.

  “Can I ask where you were last night and early this morning?”

  Trent looked down at his hands. “I was here. And no, I don’t have an alibi for that, either. Believe me, if I’d known I was going to need one, I would have had one. But Mavis is off visiting her sister in Oak Hill for the week. Helping her put together a wedding for her niece. I was here alone. Much as I hate to admit that.”

  “You know I have to ask,” Orville said. “Did you confront Morgan about the theft?”

  Trent looked genuinely shocked. “Over a scent of perfume? Are you kidding me? You know how sue-happy that woman is? The last thing in the world I wanted was to end up in an endless court battle because I'd defamed her good name or something. Besides, that guitar was insured at full value. I can buy another.”

  I nodded. “But you can’t really replace the memories you’d made with it, now can you?”

  “No. You’re right on that point. I’ll agree that this whole thing has left a very bad taste in my mouth regarding dealing with realtors. If I ever move again, God help my soul, I’ll sure as heck do things a lot differently. Vetting the people we are dealing with will be my first and foremost priority.” He paused briefly. "Followed closely by priority number two. Changing out the darned locks. All of them."

  I glanced over at Orville. I rather thought we were done here. He must have agreed with me because he stood and held out his hand to Trent. “Thank you for talking with us.”

  “Happy to help.” Trent hesitated. “I haven’t touched that insurance money yet, you know. If the two of you happen to come across my guitar, I’d be more than happy to offer a reward. And return the claim money, too, of course. But I would love to have that guitar back where it belongs.”

  “If we find it, you’ll be one of the first to know, I promise you,” Orville said.

  Trent followed us to the door and opened it for us. Then he laid a hand on Orville’s arm. “There is one more thing I think maybe I should mention.”

  Orville raised an eyebrow at the man but didn’t say anything. Most likely he didn’t want to spook him out of whatever he was about to tell us.

  “I’m guessing the two of you are looking into Morgan’s murder, right?”

  Orville nodded. “Among other things, yes.”

  “Well, one of the friends I play music with told me something interesting the other night after our session. According to him, Morgan Truesdell was about to kick Freddy Black to the curb. Lock, stock, and barrel. Sounds like he had a lot to gain by her not being around any longer to do that.”

  Orville got the name of Trent’s friend, and we left.

  A glance at the car's clock told me it was going on dinnertime. “We calling it a day?” I asked. Personally, I wanted a little talk with that friend, but I was afraid I knew what Orville’s answer would be.

  He nodded. “I don’t think we have much choice in the matter. People aren’t required to talk to us, you know. Showing up right at supper time won’t help our cause any.”

  Yup. Just what I figured the man would say.

  “And of course, the fact that your feeding schedule says it’s time to eat has nothing to do with that, right?”

  He just grinned at me. “No comment.”

  “And after dinner?”

  Orville scrubbed his chin. “Honestly? I think I want a chance to talk with Patty about what she found at Morgan’s place. Maybe do a bit of research too. It helps to know who you’re dealing with before you go and talk to people.”

  “So how early in the morning is too early to call on people? I mean, are there set hours for this kind of thing?”

  He chuckled. “Not set hours as such, but a good rule of thumb is to go by the nines. Never visit a person of interest before nine in the morning or after nine at night. Although, to be honest, with the early bedtimes of some people, I tend to cut things off at eight, unless it’s urgent business.”

  “All right, then. Let’s go feed that belly of yours.”

  Chapter 13

  I called home to check in with Kimberly and was told that I was not to stop out for food under any circumstances. She and Nancy had whipped up a good, wholesome meal, and she fully expected for us to join them.

  Who was I to argue with that?

  The meal turned out to be worth it, too. Nancy had taken a sudden interest in cooking lately, and Kimberly was trying to oblige her with lessons at least a couple of times a week.

  Not that it was all that much of a bother, mind you. It really just boiled down to getting free help in the kitchen. Not much to complain about, now was it?

  The night’s meal was a tuna noodle casserole with a freshly tossed salad topped with the dressing of our choice. Oh, and crescent rolls. Flaky, buttery crescent rolls. I could literally see Orville drool when he caught a whiff of them.

  Of course, I couldn’t say much. I might have drooled a drop or two myself. I do love my bread. I’d have to be sure to burn off a few calories tonight somehow. Maybe a nice walk up to the hilltop?

  I was rather curious to visit it again, now that I knew its secret. How could I have gone all these many years without knowing the magical ley line was directly beneath my feet?

  It was enough to make me want a closer look at the place. And yes, I already knew the place like the back of my hand. I should, considering all the blessings I’d received from the Goddess in that very spot.

  But still. I’d missed something important about my hilltop. Part of me had to wonder if there was anything else I was missing as well.

  So, once our bellies were full and Orville had wandered off to his little desk in the main living room, I slipped on a lightweight flannel shirt and headed out.

  For the record, I offered to do the dishes first, but Gray said that tonight was on him. I’d have to find a way to repay the two of them sometime soon.

  I would have asked Nancy if she wanted to come with me, but I knew within reason she would decline. The shop had gotten a care parcel today from the magical prop company that Mason ordered things from.

  Those parcels usually ended up with Mason and Nancy spending hours on end up in their playroom coming up with ways to work the new prop into an act. I was afraid I’d have to deal with the whole going public thing on their videos sooner rather than later.

  But not tonight.

  Tonight, my hilltop was calling.

  I BLAME THE CRESC
ENT rolls, by the way.

  That, or somehow someone had bewitched the path up to my hilltop to be twice as long and three times more strenuous. I know some witches who would likely have done that just to spite me.

  If they had the power in them. Which I doubted. The witches that held the most against me were the ones who didn’t have all that much in the way of magic.

  Which, in turn, was most of their problem with me. They seemed to think that my family and I hogged the lion’s share of the Goddess’s attention.

  Come to think of it, they just might be right about that. But then again, I wasn’t all that sure that any of them would be up to the challenges that the Goddess had put me and my family through because of our burgeoning power, either.

  With awesome power comes awesome responsibility. Didn’t someone famous once say that? Or was it a line from one of the movies that Orville was always watching?

  And yes, I was trying to keep my mind occupied with anything I could think of other than my labored breath and racing heartbeat by the time I finally reached the top. Not that it worked to any real degree, but I tried.

  Once at the top, I laid full out on the ground. One, I had little choice as my legs were nothing more than jelly at that point, and two, because I needed the strength that Mother Earth would give to me.

  Win-win.

  I’m not sure how long I laid there before I realized I wasn’t alone on that hilltop. I had two choices. One, I could open my eyes, bolt upright, and confront the intruder. Or two, I could lay here and send out feelers while I gathered myself.

  I never was much of a one to lay all my cards on the table right up front.

  “You can stop gathering magic, Opal. It’s just me, and I mean you no harm.”

  I opened my eyes slowly, but it took me turning my head to actually see the woman. Patience was standing right on the other side of my property line. As I said, my hilltop was pretty much divided.

  After giving her a small nod, I re-closed my eyes. I needed another minute, dang it all.

 

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