Spellbound Seven

by Cindy Stark

  “Good morning to you, too,” Cora said under her breath.

  Hazel twisted toward her friend with a questioning look. “What was that all about?”

  Cora shrugged. “Liesl is usually super friendly. Maybe it had something to do with her hair?”

  She covered her mouth to restrain a chuckle. “That seems so out of character for her, doesn’t it? Not that I don’t love bright red mermaid hair. I adore Fauna’s turquoise tips, too, but Liesl is one of the most reserved people I know.”

  Cora lifted her cup but paused before sipping. “Totally out of character.”

  Hazel considered that for a minute more.

  Cora shifted in her seat, pulling Hazel back to the present. “Speaking of characters, Timothy Franklin was in the diner this morning.”

  She lifted her brows in concern. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, except every time I see him, I worry he’s going to point a finger in my direction and yell for the town to lynch me.”

  A chill raced over Hazel. “I have exactly the same response. Luckily, he doesn’t drink much tea.”

  “You’re super lucky. He comes to the café at least once a week. If I see him and John Bartles or Samuel Canterbury acknowledge each other, it’s even worse.”

  Both Sons of Stonebridge and both frightened her as well. “Is Samuel Canterbury back in town? I’ve never met the man,” she said in a quiet voice.

  Cora shook her head. “Not yet. Thankfully. He spends his summers fishing in Alaska, but he’ll be back before long.”

  “While Timothy was there, he let it be known that he’ll be out of town for a few days and needs volunteers to cover the library.”

  Hazel widened her eyes and leaned closer. “Seriously? I didn’t think Timothy would ever let anyone rule over his prized books but him.”

  Cora shrugged. “It’s rare. He usually only leaves town once a year when he goes to visit his mother in Florida.”

  Hazel leaned back in her chair and chuckled. “I’m so volunteering for this.”

  Cora looked at her like she was crazy. “Why?”

  She returned the same look. “Hello? Free access to his secret, private books. A chance to read all the stuff he thinks he needs to monitor so closely.”

  Cora’s shoulders dropped. “Oh, right. Problem is he locks them up while he’s away. No free access to anything but the public stuff.”

  Hazel narrowed her eyes and dropped a thoughtful gaze to the golden orange chrysanthemums she’d recently potted for her outdoor tables. She didn’t like Cora’s answer at all.

  She glanced up. “Does he lock them up in the library or somewhere else?”

  Cora lifted a shoulder and let it drop. “Not sure. It’s not a question a person can ask without raising some suspicion.”

  Hazel stole a strand of hair from her own ponytail and wound it between her fingers before dragging it across her lips. “I’m still going to volunteer. Timothy spends so much time in that building. Even if the books aren’t there, I bet he’s left something incriminating behind.”

  “You don’t think he’d lock that up, too? Or burn it?”

  She grinned. “He’s not the type to burn anything that might have historical value someday. Look how carefully he watches over documents from the past. I bet he’d love it if there’s a tome someday in the library that describes how he and his cronies eliminated the witches from Stonebridge.”

  Cora nodded thoughtfully. “I think you’re right on that point.”

  She curved her lips into a sly smile. “As for anything that’s locked up? Well, isn’t that what witchcraft is for?”

  Cora lifted questioning brows. “Does that mean you’ve learned a spell to break locks?”

  “Not yet. But I have Clarabelle’s book for reference. She seems to have known all the bad spells. I’ll see what I can find in there.”

  If that proved pointless, she could also check Glenys’ spell book since she was in jail and no longer needed it. At some point, she might give it to Glenys’ replacement, if there would be one, but she or he hadn’t arrived in Stonebridge yet.

  Yips and barks from down the street drew their attention. So much for a quiet morning.

  Hazel stood when a gorgeous German shepherd with a bright blue collar sprinted past their table, obviously enjoying its freedom. “Isn’t that—?”

  An adorable Jack Russell terrier barked furiously as it chased after the German shepherd.

  Hazel turned to Cora with a puzzled look on her face. “Aren’t those Valerie Lindquist’s dogs?”

  Before Cora could answer, a fluffy apricot poodle pranced down the cobblestone sidewalk toward them, with a barking border collie trying to herd it into the road or perhaps back home. Either way, the dog wasn’t having any luck.

  Cora glanced up and down the street. “I believe they are. I wonder how they got out.”

  Hazel sighed, remembering how hard of a time she’d had trying to catch the two poodles that she’d had growing up when they’d managed to escape. “Who knows, but someone needs to let Valerie know.”

  Cora pulled out her phone. “I called her just last week to schedule an appointment for my hair. I have her number right…here.”

  She tapped her phone and then lifted it to her ear.

  Hazel held Cora’s gaze as they waited several long seconds. Finally, Cora tapped her phone again and set it down. “She’s not answering.”

  Hazel nodded toward her teashop. “Gretta’s got the place covered. Why don’t you and I take a quick walk? She’s only a couple of blocks over.”

  Cora sipped her tea and then stood. “Should have known we wouldn’t escape our morning walk.”

  She snorted. “Yeah. Should have known.”

  Two

  Hazel and Cora strode fast toward Valerie’s house, and Hazel glanced at her friend. “This is worse than our regular walk. We’re practically running.”

  Cora snorted. “I guess we should be grateful something got us off our bottoms, but I swear, this isn’t the first time someone has had to chase down her dogs. I doubt it will be the last.”

  A determined chihuahua skittered toward Hazel and Cora as fast as its small legs would carry it. Hazel eyed it and prepared to scoop it up the second it came close enough. “Valerie sounds very irresponsible. If one of her dogs runs into the road at the wrong moment, it could easily be hit by a car.”

  “Exactly. Some have petitioned the mayor’s office to enact a two-pet limit per household, but the mayor himself has three dogs, so he’s loath to do it. People here love their animals.”

  Hazel grabbed Cora’s elbow and brought them to a stop. “Hang on a second. Let me see if I can catch this one.”

  She crouched and waited for the little dog to approach. “Hey, puppy,” she said in a singsong voice.

  It continued in their direction, it’s tiny tail wiggling as fast as its legs trotted.

  Hazel held out a hand in greeting. The dog slowed long enough to sniff but didn’t seem inclined to stick around. She wrapped her hands around its belly and scooped it toward her chest. “Hey there, little fellow.”

  The dog squirmed against her, now desperate to be free. The nails on its back feet dug into the underneath of her forearm, forcing her to drop it.

  “Ow.”

  “Careful,” Cora cautioned. She tried to catch the little dog, too, but it managed to evade her grasp. “If Valerie can’t round them up, Peter’s men or the county’s animal control might have to.”

  Hazel twisted her wrist, looking for damage. She exposed a long red streak on the tender underside. At least it hadn’t broken the skin.

  She sighed in disgust at the lack of care the dog’s owner showed. “She should pay for her irresponsibility. It’s only right.”

  Cora sighed. “I agree. What they really need is to have a law for irresponsible pet owners.”

  Hazel nodded as they resumed their walk toward Valerie’s house. “I’ve talked with her a couple of times but don’t really know her. I
tried to get an appointment with her when I first moved here, but she was all booked up, so I’ve been going to a stylist in Salem. But I’m wondering, if she’s that careless with her dogs, how do people in town trust her to do their hair?”

  Cora began pumping her elbows like she usually did when they walked. “Not sure, but she does know her way around a good cut and color. She’s usually booked out at least six weeks. Most of the women in town go to her.”

  Hazel supposed everyone had her strengths and weaknesses.

  They turned a corner, and Cora pointed down the street. “It’s the slate blue house on the left.”

  Their feet crunched on the gravel drive as they approached. The grass needed to be mowed, and weeds grew amongst a riot of sunflowers. Even though everything wasn’t neat and tidy, her yard did have a wild loveliness to it. As if the plants and trees belonged more to the Blessed Mother than to any person.

  The front door was closed, but Cora didn’t head in that direction. She chose the red brick path toward the side of the house. “The entrance to her shop is around this way.”

  A six-foot-tall chain-link fence stood just beyond the side door that led into the house. The gate was wide open. “I guess this is how they got out.”

  Cora frowned. “She needs to make sure the latch is all the way down every time, and she doesn’t.”

  Her friend knocked on the beauty salon door and then opened it. The ammonia scent of hair dye greeted them, and country music played from a speaker on the small desk that appeared to function as Valerie’s base of operations. An appointment book lay open near the speaker with most spaces filled in with names written in pencil. Many were first names only and no phone numbers.

  A salon style sink and chair sat empty on the opposite side of the room. A couple of gray padded folding chairs had been placed along the edges, possibly for waiting clients or accompanying guests.

  Hazel approved of the many green plants that flourished in the welcoming space and the gorgeous crystal vase of long-stemmed red roses that sat on a table near Valerie’s workstation. Hazel glanced at the card nestled in the middle of them. “Love BW,” she muttered.

  “Valerie?” Cora called out and moved farther into the room.

  Hazel followed behind. As much as the area had been set with cheerful things, an ominous darkness hovered in the air. “Something’s wrong,” she whispered.

  Cora nodded and quickened her footsteps. She opened another door that led into the rest of the house.

  Hazel stepped into a small kitchen highlighted by creamy walls and dark cabinets. Sheer curtains covered the windows and fluttered with the slight morning breeze. Dirty breakfast dishes waited in the sink, and Hazel sensed Valerie was a busy woman who struggled to manage her life.

  “Valerie?” Cora yelled louder this time.

  No response.

  A quick search of the house proved pointless. Cora led the way back to the kitchen. “I’m worried. It’s not like her to leave everything open and not have her dogs secured while she’s gone.”

  “Maybe we should try calling her again.”

  Cora drew her brows together in concern and nodded. She slipped the phone from her pocket, tapped the screen a few times, and held the phone to her ear.

  Hazel met Cora’s gaze when she heard the ringing, but it took her a second to realize the sound came from the open window and not Cora’s phone.

  Cora seemed to come to the same conclusion and lowered the phone from her ear. They both hurried toward the back door. Hazel flung it open, and they rushed down the steps into the yard.

  Hazel stopped short when she spotted Valerie lying motionless beneath a large oak tree near the corner of the house. Cora gasped, and they strode forward.

  Valerie’s long auburn hair laid spread upon the green grass. One arm was tucked beneath her while the other had been flung out to her side. Her lifeless eyes stared into the heavens as though she’d watched her spirit rise into the sky.

  The only thing that looked particularly out of place beyond the odd angle of Valerie’s body was the bright red dog collar around her neck.

  Though, visually, everything seemed serene, a dark presence hovered in the air around them

  “Blessed Mother, help us.” A cry of anguish escaped Cora, and she clamped a hand across her mouth.

  Hazel wrapped one arm around Cora while she pulled the phone from her pocket with the other. She quickly dialed the police station and reported the crime.

  Cora sank beside Valerie and carefully reached out toward the poor dead woman’s face.

  Hazel snatched her hand before she could reach her. “Don’t touch anything. In fact, we should move away from the body. This is a crime scene.”

  Cora stood, stumbled backward, and turned to her with despair in her eyes. “Oh, Hazel. I can’t believe it. Who could do such a thing?”

  Hazel stared hard at her friend. “How well do we know Liesl Goodman?”

  She straightened and gave Hazel a disturbed glance. “No.”

  Hazel lifted her hands, palms up, in a questioning gesture. “You saw her. Riding from this direction like the devil chased her, with her new, bright red hair.”

  Cora turned her back to the body. “We don’t even know if Liesl had Valerie color it today. She could have dyed it days ago.”

  “No,” Hazel countered. “She was in the teashop yesterday afternoon, brown hair and all. She had her hair done this morning. I’m almost certain.”

  She shook her head. “Still, I can’t make myself believe that docile Liesl could be capable of such rage. Definitely not over hair.”

  Sirens wailed through the quiet morning, and Hazel and Cora both glanced toward the gate. Hazel gestured with a nod of her head. “Let’s meet them at the curb so they know where to find her.”

  Cora clutched her stomach. “If it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll stay out front, and you can show them back here. I can’t bear to look at Valerie again. I don’t know how you do it.”

  Hazel linked her arm through Cora’s and walked toward the tall chain link gate that stood wide open. “I guess I try to help Peter where I can because I believe people like Valerie deserve justice. I can’t undo the murder, but I want to help make sure the person who did it doesn’t get away scot-free. That would make the crime that much more heinous, don’t you think?”

  She exhaled. “Of course. I’m always grateful others have the stomach for it.”

  Officer John Bartles was the first on the scene. His warm brown eyes were heavy with concern. “Hazel. Cora. Are you both okay?”

  Cora nodded. “We, uh…”

  She looked to Hazel to continue.

  Hazel squeezed her hand in support. “We were having tea outside my shop a little while ago when we spotted Valerie’s dogs running down Main Street. Cora tried to call her to let her know, but no one answered. So, we decided to walk over to let her know they were free again.”

  She thumbed over her shoulder. “We found her in the backyard. She appears to have been strangled.”

  Cora shuddered. “If it’s all right with you both, I’m going to sit on the porch stairs. I need a few minutes.”

  John patted her shoulder, and, once again, Hazel had a hard time recognizing the nice man as someone who could persecute witches. “No problem, Cora. You rest, and we’ll get a brief statement in a minute.”

  He glanced to Hazel. “Want to show me where you found her?”

  She nodded and led the way into the backyard.

  Officer Bartles crouched next to the body and lifted Valerie’s wrist to check for a pulse. “Any signs of witchcraft at play?” he asked Hazel without looking at her.

  She rolled her eyes, disgusted with his question. “No. None.”

  He dropped Valerie’s hand and stood. “How long ago did you discover the body?”

  He met her gaze, and she shivered. This was the man she feared. “We were in the house for a minute or so, looking for her in there. Cora tried to reach her by phone again, and we
heard the ringing coming from outside. I called the police immediately, so…”

  She paused to pull out her phone and check the time she’d dialed the emergency number. “Twelve minutes after ten.”

  He nodded and then glanced over her shoulder.

  Hazel looked back toward the gate to see what had stolen his attention, and she found Peter striding toward her. He held her gaze for a long moment, and she knew he wasn’t happy to find her there.

  She’d explain later that he couldn’t blame her. She and Cora had been trying to do a good deed and had no idea what they’d stumble into at Valerie’s house.

  Peter shifted his gaze to his officer. “Give me an update, Bartles.”

  “I’ve been on the scene for five minutes. Checked the victim for vital signs. Nothing. I haven’t called for the coroner yet. Hazel and Cora were the only two on scene. It appears that Valerie’s dogs running free alerted the ladies that something might be amiss, and they walked over to notify Valerie.”

  Peter glanced at her in question.

  She wanted to declare she hadn’t been meddling but couldn’t in front of his officer. “All of her dogs were running down Main Street. I almost caught a chihuahua, but it escaped.”

  Peter nodded and turned to John. “Call the coroner. Get a couple of units to pick up her dogs. They might carry clues. Call animal control if necessary. Find someone to take the ladies to the station for formal statements.”

  He nodded and headed for the front yard.

  Hazel bit her bottom lip and waited for the officer to disappear. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of John, but not long before we saw the dogs, Liesl Goodman rode by on her bike. Her hair was bright red. I’m talking mermaid red.”

  He lifted his brows. “That’s not uncommon these days.”

  She offered a raised brow of her own. “It is for Liesl. You know how conservative she is.”

  He shrugged. “No, not really.”

  “Well, she is. And not only did she have bright red hair, but she wouldn’t look at Cora or me when we tried to wave. She quickly turned off Main Street instead.”

  A pacifying smile crossed his lips. “Hazel, just because she had red hair and didn’t wave, doesn’t make her a killer.”