by Cindy Stark
He nodded, but his suspicions remained. “Correct me if I’m wrong. You and ol’ Chief Parker got a thing going, don’t you?”
She widened her eyes into innocent ovals. “If by thing you mean we’re dating, then yes, that is correct.”
His whole body stiffened. “Did he send you here to work me over?”
Soft alarms in her head grew louder. “Work you over? Of course not.”
An unfriendly wall sprang up between them. “You ain’t telling the truth. I can see it in your eyes.”
She lowered her emotions to a less intense level, hoping to cause a similar effect in his. “I have no reason to lie, Mr. Mosley. I’m just curious. That’s all. I didn’t know Valerie all that well, and I suppose I have this need to find out if she somehow caused what happened to her.”
She held up a hand. “Not that there’s ever a good reason to commit murder. But if she somehow played a part, then perhaps the rest of us are safe from the same fate. Does that make sense?”
He nodded, slow and suspicious.
Even if he didn’t completely relax, she congratulated herself for getting a handle on the situation. And what she’d said about needing to feel safe was true.
He studied her with intense eyes that left her uncomfortable. “If you’re asking for my opinion, I’d say she asked for it. If she treated the rest of the world the way she treated me, she likely had more than a few enemies.”
She lifted a curious brow. “Anyone specific?”
He lowered his eyelids into slits. “You say you want to be safe from the killer, but don’t you think that sticking your nose in where it doesn’t belong, might just make you a bigger target?”
A chill raced over her, and she considered the possibility that his words might be a threat. “I…wasn’t trying to be pushy. Like I said, just curious.”
A smug look crossed his face. “Have you talked to Amanda?”
She bit her bottom lip and shook her head. She’d never heard of Amanda before now.
He gave her a satisfied nod. “Maybe you ought to look in her direction and not mine.”
“Amanda. She’s…”
He snorted. “I’ll let you and your bloodhound nose figure that one out.”
He pointed a fork toward the apple pie with only one bite taken from it. “I got better things to do.”
His actions indicated he was done with their conversation, but she wasn’t quite yet. Yes, she wanted more information on anyone he might suspect, but she also yearned to know more about him.
Worse, she sensed this would likely be the last time he’d consent to converse with her. She didn’t want to push him or put him on the spot, but she’d worn out her welcome too soon.
“Before I go, I just want to ask one thing. Some have mentioned that you might have threatened Valerie in the past. Is that true?”
His tight features turned a mottled red. “Listen, lady. I came here tonight to enjoy a nice piece of pie and relax. I’m not here so you can pester me with your obnoxious questions. Got it?”
Dang it. Push harder or retreat?
Sometimes, a person had to trust her gut and forge ahead. “Does that mean you’re denying it?”
He stared at her for a long, hard moment. Then he stood fast enough to make her jump back against her seat in surprise.
“I thought I just made it clear I wanted to eat my pie in peace, and yet you’re still here, butting into people’s business where you don’t belong.”
She scrambled for a response, but he picked up the plate holding his pie before she could say anything. She hadn’t meant to force the guy to take his pie home. “I’m sorry.”
He shook his head in disagreement. “No, you’re not. Since you’ve ruined my appetite, I think I’ll let you have it.”
She opened her mouth to apologize.
Instead of words flowing out, the crusty slice of pie hit the side of her mouth, scratching her jaw, before plopping into her lap.
She stared at him in shock.
He nodded, satisfied. “Maybe that’ll teach you to keep your mouth shut and stop bothering people.”
Bob turned and strode from the café with his shoulders hunched and a slight limp to his gait.
Cora stood open-mouthed as Bob walked past her and out the door. Hazel was sure she had the same look on her face as Cora.
The second he was gone, Cora rushed toward her. “What did you say to him?”
Hazel wiped remnants of apple filling from her cheek and the side of her mouth, subconsciously registering the sweet taste of the filling. Then she scooped the mangled slice from her lap and plopped the mess onto the plate.
She sighed and met Cora’s gaze. “I asked him if he’d threatened Valerie in the past.”
Cora widened her eyes in disbelief and pulled a stack of napkins from the silver container on the table, sliding them to Hazel. “You can’t just blurt that out. Especially not to a man like Bob.”
Hazel clenched her jaw as she attempted to wipe the sticky mess from her fingers. “I didn’t just blurt it out. I was polite and asked many other questions, too. I would think an innocent person would react with a civilized response.”
Cora glanced toward the door where Bob had been only moments before. “Does that mean you think he might be guilty?”
She wished she could say he was, if only because he’d assaulted her with pie. A crime on many levels. “I don’t know.”
Hazel lifted her gooey hands. “It’s hard to think rationally with all this going on.”
Cora stared at her and then tucked in her lips, attempting and failing to withhold a chuckle. “Come on into the kitchen. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Hazel nodded and followed her friend through the thankfully-quiet café and back to a sink. She could hope no one had overheard or witnessed what had happened, but she had a feeling she wouldn’t be that lucky.
Cora turned on the water. “Maybe you should steer clear of this case. I know you like to help Peter, but you seem to be under a dark cloud today.”
Hazel snorted a half-laugh. “I woke to an owl outside my window this morning. You know what superstitious people say about that.”
Hazel expected her to crack a smile or a wise joke, but she glanced at Hazel with a look of concern in her eyes. “That’s not an old wives’ tale, Hazel. Owls are very bad omens.”
She shot her a skeptical look “You’re kidding me, right? Just adding a little insult to injury so that I’ll stay out of crime investigating.”
Cora shook her head, her eyes deluged with serious sincerity. “I’ll be at your house first thing in the morning. We’ll fix this before it gets out of hand.”
Alarm struck inside her. “Before it gets out of hand?”
“Think about it, Hazel. First, you find a dead body. That right there suggests it’s a bad omen.”
“You found Valerie’s body, too,” she countered.
“But you’re the one who suggested that we go to her house, so technically, you found her. Second, you have an irate Liesl show up at your shop and threaten you. Now this. You can’t deny you have some bad mojo swarming around you.”
Her pulse jumped. “Swarming?”
Hazel glanced about the café as though searching for the next source of danger. “You make it sound like something might attack at any minute.”
Cora shook her head in a reassuring way. “No, no. Things come in threes. You should be safe for today. Your house is protected, so you’ll be okay until I get there. We’ll worry about tomorrow in the morning.”
Hazel was certain she’d worry about tomorrow all night. “Can I stay here until you close and beg a ride home? I’m feeling a tad vulnerable.”
A consoling smile bloomed on Cora’s face. “Of course. Finish cleaning up, and order anything you want off the menu.”
“Could I get a slice of apple pie?”
Cora snorted. “After all that, you want more?”
She shrugged. “It did taste really good.”
Five
Hazel was a tangled mass of nerves and anxiety waiting for Cora to arrive the next morning. Sleep was apparently worried that her bad luck might spread because it avoided her most of the night, along with Mr. Kitty and Clarabelle. Not that she wanted nocturnal visits from her grandmother’s ghost, but Hazel would have appreciated a comforting presence from someone.
Peter had called that morning, but she couldn’t burden him with her silly superstitions while he was caught up with Valerie’s murder investigation. He had more important things to worry about.
She’d like to discount her unlucky situations as unfortunate coincidences, but she’d learned what might be trivial in other areas of the world seemed to be stronger in Stonebridge. She’d learned to take curses and hexes seriously. Ignoring a dark omen might not be the smartest thing.
The second she heard Cora’s car in the drive, Hazel left her perch on the couch and dashed out the door to greet her. The sooner they put Cora’s defensive tactics into place, the better. “Good morning!”
She hurried down the steps, but her slipper came loose from her foot. The odd angle of it caused her to lose solid footing, and she half-stepped, half-tripped down the last stair. She grabbed for the railing, missed, and ended up landing knees and palms first at the bottom.
Jolting pain shot through her. “Son of a crunchy biscuit,” she said through clenched teeth.
“Hazel!”
Cora rushed forward and reached her as she flipped into a sitting position and inspected her throbbing hands. Dust covered her, and the impact had pressed tiny rocks into her reddened skin. Hazel brushed them away and glanced up.
Cora crouched down beside her. “Are you okay?”
She shook away her pain and embarrassment. “Just practicing my early-morning gymnastics. Nothing to worry about.”
Her friend gave her a knowing assessment. “We need to get you inside. Now. Back to where you’re safe.”
“You think I’m in danger because I’ve stepped outside my house?”
Before Cora could respond, a big crow swooped just above their heads, cawing as it did.
Cora gasped, stood, and held out a hand to Hazel. “Yes. I think we should go right now.”
The sight of the black crow convinced her she was right. A negative force seemed to be hovering around her, and she needed to pay attention.
Hazel carefully accepted Cora’s hand and pulled herself to her feet. Stinging pain vibrated from her palms and knees. One look at her torn, flannel pajama pants warned that she’d likely sustained a fair amount of damage to her knees. “Stupid stairs,” she whispered as she carefully ascended them and crossed the threshold back into her house.
She wasn’t sure if she really was safer or just the idea of control appealed to her, but she was glad to be inside. Cora firmly closed the door behind her, and Hazel had the sudden urge to lock it even though that action wouldn’t help anything.
Cora gave her a once-over and shook her head in disappointment. “I don’t know what you’ve been messing with, but whatever it is seems to be some nasty stuff.”
Hazel accepted her look and shot back a defensive one of her own. She hadn’t brought this on herself. “I haven’t been messing with anything. No crazy spells. No blood magic. Honestly, I haven’t been stirring up anything that could be unsafe or controversial.”
Cora sighed. “Well, you’ve crossed paths with something. Best get cleaned up, and we’ll see what we can do to protect you.”
Hazel frowned and headed to her bedroom for a change of clothes, and then into the bathroom to wash her injuries and inspect the damage.
When she returned downstairs ten minutes later, she found Cora sitting at the kitchen table with two cups of tea and a red velvet bag in front of her.
Cora assessed her with an uneasy gaze. “How are you?”
Hazel held up her right palm and showed off the single bandage she’d placed there. “I think I’ll live.”
Cora didn’t crack even the tiniest smile, which further worried Hazel. “This is nothing to trivialize.”
She sank into the chair next to Cora and slid a cup of tea closer. “I know. What I don’t understand is why everything seems to be so much more serious or potent here in Stonebridge. It’s not like I haven’t heard of omens, but I’ve never had to worry overly much if a black cat crossed my path, you know?”
Hazel’s thoughts flew to Mr. Kitty’s girlfriend, the sleek black Sorcha, and she flicked a worried glance toward Cora. “You don’t think this all started when Polly’s cat started hanging around mine, do you?”
Cora waved away that worry. “Black cats aren’t bad, so don’t worry about that one. That’s a fake superstition, probably made up by a cat-hater centuries ago.”
She exhaled in relief. She’d hate to think she’d have to make Mr. Kitty choose between her or his love.
“As for the reason things are stronger here,” Cora continued. “I believe it’s because, whether some in town like it or not, the violent history of the past left its mark. One can’t invite powerful negativity and then expect there to be no consequences of said actions.”
She supposed that was likely true. “Even though most of us living here now aren’t inviting any such negativity.”
Cora gave her a solemn nod. “Yes. Even though that’s true. Most of the townsfolk may no longer be persecuting witches, but the fear and hatred still thrive below the surface, meaning this beautiful place where we live hasn’t fully healed from past injuries.”
Hazel lifted her cup and sipped, allowing the warm mint tea to soothe her aches inside and out. “Sad, that. Isn’t it?”
Cora shrugged. “Sins of the father…”
“Maybe one day, we’ll figure out a way to fix it.”
“I hope so.”
Hazel shifted her gaze to the red velvet pouch resting on the table. “In the meantime, what have you brought to help me?”
Cora flashed a quick grin and then untied the ribbons that held the bag closed. She dumped the contents onto the table. Two crystals created soft thuds as they made contact with the wood surface, and a fat, golden-brown acorn rolled toward her.
Hazel stopped it with her hand. “You truly believe a piece of jade, a tiger’s eye crystal, and an acorn will help?”
She knew the power crystals could hold, but the items didn’t seem strong enough for this type of magic.
Cora slid the smooth, rounded piece of jade and the striped brown and gold stone toward her. “They’ve been proven to break bad omens. I think you can trust them. I’d also offer some advice. Tomorrow when you wake up, make sure you get out of bed on the same side you got in.”
Her blood chilled. For the past two mornings, she’d done neither. Yesterday, she’d climbed out the opposite side because she’d wanted to see out the window, and this morning, she’d done the same because she was too lazy to get up and walk around the bed to open the blinds. “Seriously?”
Cora pinned her with a grim look. “I’m very serious. You don’t want to take chances.”
Hazel dropped her gaze to the light amber-colored tea. “No, indeed, I don’t. I sort of wish I could stay inside my house until this all blows over.”
Her friend snorted. “Pretty sure omens don’t just blow over.”
She lifted her gaze. “Even if I wish they would?”
Her friend shook her head. “Sorry.”
Hazel pondered her situation, wondering how she’d gotten into this mess. “Why me?”
Cora’s gaze turned uncertain. “Who knows? Some believe owls can be a signal a pregnant person will have an easy labor.”
She snorted. “I’m not pregnant, and I think my owl has made it pretty clear it wasn’t sent as a good omen.”
Cora lifted the teacup to her lips and sipped. “It can also be a bird of prophecy.”
“Then we’re all doomed because it’s not going to be a good prophecy.”
She shrugged. “Just saying.”
The whole thing had turned int
o a cloud of doom that seemed to surround her. “How about we talk about something else?”
“Probably best.”
Hazel eyed her friend. “Last night, before the pie to the face, Bob mentioned a person named Amanda and that, if I wanted to nose around, I should investigate her.”
Cora slid a sideways look in her direction. “Talking about the murder investigation is sort of like talking about the omen, don’t you think? Finding the body was part of your bad luck.”
She considered that for a moment and then shook her head. “I say they’re separate. Otherwise, you’re implying that my bad luck transferred to Valerie, and I can’t believe that’s true. My bad luck was in finding her. It was her bad luck that killed her.”
Cora studied her for a minute and then cracked a smile. “I’m sure you’re right.”
Hazel gave her a decisive nod. “So, Amanda…”
She frowned. “I don’t think I know an Amanda. Does she live in Stonebridge?”
“No idea. I think Bob took great satisfaction in dangling that before me without any real information.”
“Hmm…” Cora took another sip and then shook her head. “The only thing I can think would be to ask Katelyn. She and Valerie were best friends, and I’m sure if there was an Amanda in Valerie’s life, Katelyn would know.”
She lifted her chin in acknowledgement. “Katelyn. Grocery store. She’s probably working today, and I need to pick up a few things. If only I wasn’t afraid to step outside.”
Cora chuckled. “Don’t worry. You’ll be fine.”
Six
An hour later, Hazel was dressed and ready to head to the grocery store. Cora and her reassurance that everything would be fine was long gone, and Hazel struggled to step foot outside her front door and the protection her house offered.
Which was completely silly.
She had the acorn in her pocket and the jade and tiger’s eye stones tucked safely in her bra. Her ankle still ached from her earlier spill, but despite all the bad things that had happened to her during the past two days, she had to admit she was fine.
Valerie was much worse off, and Hazel yearned to find her killer. To do that, she reasoned, she’d have to leave her house.
