“Scared?” I grinned. “It’s just a dog.”
I went into the kitchen to place my book, I needed to clear the ammonia from my nostrils before I could even think about doing anything else.
“I’m sorry,” he said, rubbing his back up against the side of my legs.
“It’s fine, I mean, it’s not, but I’ll fix it.”
I had a quick fix, magic, well I wasn’t going to get on my hands and knees for something I could do with the click of my fingers. Sucking in a deep breath, I pushed through to the living room.
This type of magic was practical, somewhat telekinetic in spirit, but there was a lot more to it. I squeezed my eyes together for a moment as I pictured the room how it had been, completely clean and rid of dirt and filth, even picturing my favourite lemon smelling cleaning supply in mind. “One, two, three.” I clicked both my fingers once.
The room was back and my nostrils where filled with lemon. Using magic, any type of it burned energy, it was why I wore a pentagram necklace, it had been blessed with an abundance of energy, the type that kept me in check.
“I’ll feed you now,” I said to August as he meowed at my feet. “Anything else you want to tell me? Did you destroy any other part of the house while you were at it?”
He didn’t respond, only left my feet to the kitchen where his bowls were. He had enough material in the house to scratch up a mess, but he also had a lot to play with in the spare room, that’s where I’d relocated his scratching posts to, even if it did drive me up the wall at night when he decided he couldn’t sleep.
I stood on a foot stool to look at the back of the cupboard. “You can have the rabbit in gravy,” I said. “Unless you want me to switch you out for dry food?”
“No, no, no, I’ll take the rabbit,” he said.
“I’ll have to go buy more soon,” I said, pulling out the packet. “Unless you’re okay with having rabbit for the next week.” Emptying the sachet of food into his dish, I watched him stick his tongue out. “Well, all the chicken and tuna is gone.” On the fridge was a list of ingredients to go shopping for, I added cat food to the list.
All I’d had to eat today was a sandwich and an assortment of cake slices, only nibbles and the occasional spoonful of frosting. I hated eating too late, but I had no choice some days, and now I was starving.
Tonight’s meal of choice was fresh salmon and couscous. It wasn’t the fastest meal to make or prepare, but it was my favourite.
“Goddess of life, Goddess of light, bless this meal,” I said, squeezing a lemon wedge across the fish, as I placed it on a tray in the oven. “Goddess of the moon, Goddess of the night, provide to heal.” I added a dash of salt to the couscous.
While waiting on my food I flicked through pages of my book of shadows, landing on a blank page. I tapped my finger twice on it to reveal a title, REJUVINATING SKIN, the words forced me to stare at myself in the reflection from the kitchen window.
“I’m not old,” I said to myself. “I’m perfectly young.” But it was no secret I’d been looking at trying to create a balm for my face to pick the wrinkles from falling around the side of my eyes and wherever else they found themselves sitting.
Sniffing the air as I attended to the salmon in the oven, I was transported to a first date way before Peter and Cowan Bay. A teenage heart in love, it filled me with a warmth the pillowing steam from the oven couldn’t compete with.
“Why don’t I get fish?” August asked, scratching his paw against the granite counter.
“Because that would mean buying twice as much, and your food is a quarter of the cost,” I said with a hum of laughter as I plated the fish across a bed of couscous and veggies. “Anyway, you ate all the food so it can’t have been bad.”
Carrying my plate through to the dining room, August followed, weaving between my legs. “I deserve salmon after the day I’ve had.”
“After your day?” I chuckled. “When I go shopping, I’ll grab you some of the fish ones,” I said.
Living in Cowan Bay meant seafood was always freshly caught, and there was the river that ran through the town of Belsy. Belsy was a twenty-minute drive from the village, we were right out on the bay, and given another fifteen years, I’m sure half the village would be under water too.
“I really wish you had thumbs,” I said to August as I gathered food on my fork before scoffing it down.
“Why?”
“So you could run me a bath,” I said.
With my son away I had no family around, and nobody to look after August when he went on a little panic around the house, or to run me a bath when I got in from work, or cook – the thought tickled me inside, my son never cooked, and he’d always moan about doing anything anyway.
I had time before I’d be in bed sleeping to have a soak in the bathtub. Armed with my lavender oils, camomile lotions, and scented candles, I was ready to relax.
Sitting in the bath, I read Elizabeth Gilbert’s Eat, Pray, Love. It was my third time around and a healthy distraction, it taught me it was okay to be alone and single, especially at my age. Although I didn’t need validation, it was just nice to hear.
“Gwen,” I heard from the door, followed by August’s scratching.
Blocking him out, I went back to reading.
“Gwen,” his sharp voice came again.
Surrounded by cold water, I blinked my eyes open. I must’ve dozed off. My skin resembled an old prune, shrivelled. My jaw chattered as I pulled the plug and blew the candles.
“Coming.”
August stood at the bathroom door when I greeted him with the towel around my body.
“You’ve been in there for an hour.”
“I was taking a nap,” I said, turning the bathroom light off.
I didn’t make it a regular habit of sleeping in the bathtub, but sometimes after a busy day, it couldn’t be avoided, least not when you were adding all the essential oils to the tub.
Climbing into bed as August jumped in at the side. “Night,” he said, clawing at the sheet.
“Night.” I reached around in the darkness for my eye mask on the bedside table.
I wasn’t sure when I first woke in the night, but it left me breathless, it left me with a sense of deflation. I sucked deep and tore the eye mask up over my forehead to see August’s yellow eyes glowing at me.
“What happened?” he asked.
I wasn’t sure. “A nightmare,” I said, although I couldn’t recall anything happening in the dream, it was fleeting, and by the time I caught my breath, the brief memory had vanished. “Just a bad dream,” I reiterated, mainly for myself.
A heavy thudding came from the door when I woke next. Pulling my eye mask away to see the morning light break through the curtains and August scratching the duvet at my side, trying to bury his head.
The thundering knocks came once again.
“I thought you were supposed to protect me?” I said, tutting my tongue against the roof of my mouth.
“Who is it?” he asked, shivering.
I wasn’t sure who it was, but whoever it was better have a good reason for waking me at 7 A.M. even though I would’ve been waking within the hour.
Quickly, I wrapped my nightgown around myself and slipping my necklace over my head. The knocks came once again, this time I was already storming down the stairs. Through the glass panelling at the side of the door, I made out the figure of a man I didn’t expect to see at my house so early.
Forcing a smile as I opened the door. “Detective,” I said.
“Morning, Mrs Harkin,” he said, nodding his head.
I coughed loudly into a fist. “Waterhouse, Ms Waterhouse,” I corrected him.
“Aye, I’m sorry,” he said. “May I come in, I have some news.”
I glanced behind myself. Ideally, I didn’t want the man anywhere near my house, there was too much of value for him to look at. “I woke up, the house is a mess.”
“It’s Marissa,” he said.
My skin, already tin
gly. His eyes drooped, the way a dog would when they’d been chastised. But this wasn’t that, this was different. “Yes?”
“She’s dead.”
My tongue swelled in my throat, my eyes transfixed on him, my sweaty palm slicked around the door handle. “I—I—I—” I fell backward to the ground, my vision hazing as I stared up at the ceiling.
CHAPTER 5
I came back to consciousness moments later with August’s hissing. Through hazy eyes I saw Detective Hodge kneel beside me, his lips moving but for the life of me I couldn’t make out the sound coming from them, nor did I want to hear, there was very little he could say that would erase the thick layer of bumps swollen on my skin.
“Gwen, are you okay?” his voice finally broke through.
The hissing from August got louder, so much that the detective stepped back on his feet.
I shook my head. I wasn’t okay, but how could I possibly put that into words without first throwing up the contents of yesterday’s dinner.
Finally, I stood with the detective’s help and got my voice back. “You best come in,” I said, ushering him through to the living room.
Being clairsentient meant being susceptible to the feelings of others, and the feeling of shock and pain travelled through the detective’s voice and body, it was what caught me off guard, the initial shock, the pulse of energy bashed me into the ground.
We both sat on the sofa in the living room.
“I’ll make us some tea,” I said, standing.
Detective Hodge shook his head. “I’m fine.”
A chuckle left the back of my throat, mainly out of nervousness. “Think I’m going to poison you?”
His stern look didn’t appreciate the joke. “I’ve actually just had a coffee,” he said.
“Okay, well I need something to drink,” I said. I also needed five minutes to think. I left August in the living room, I knew he’d make sure the detective stayed put without trying to get his grubby fingers over everything.
Through the kitchen window I immediately noticed my hair was a frizzy mess on top of my head. I tried my best to comb it out with my fingers. It was no use, they were trembling.
With my shaky hands and my fingers loose around the teakettle, I almost dropped it. I placed it over a hob and let the cool sensation, the sound of bubbles boiling on the surface washed over me. I closed my eyes, clearing internal space.
“This has to be a joke,” I grumbled as I prepared a clean cup. I needed something to calm me, to remove the shakes from my hands and balls of my feet. The news left me on edge, an edge I never wished to climb on and for the life of me I couldn’t find where to back off into safety.
Once I’d made my calming tea, I went back to the living room, taking plenty sips to pre-empt the onslaught of nerves.
“Gwen, I know you’re friends with Marissa,” he began as I took my seat. “But—”
“But?”
“Yes, we need to ask everyone.”
I craned my neck back. “Need to ask everyone what?”
He tilted his head from side-to-side. “Well, someone’s dead, and we have reason to believe it was not under natural or normal circumstances.”
“You think I did this?” I asked, my breath hitching at the back of my throat. His beady eyes looked me over as I pulled the teacup to my mouth, sucking the liquid through my teeth.
“Gwen, you were at Marissa’s house yesterday, we have witnesses who place you there. We also have evidence.”
I placed the cup on the coffee table, my fingers shaking as I did. “We’re friends,” I said. “I—I—I didn’t kill her.”
He nodded, although the scrutinising squint in his eyes didn’t vanish. “Friends have been known to do a lot worse,” he said. “Now, I have a few questions.” He dug deep into his pocket and pulled out a notebook with a small pen inside the ring binding.
“No, I’m not going to answer your questions, not if you think I had anything to do with this. My friend has been found dead, and you won’t even let me take it in, instead, you want to jump down my throat and treat me like a suspect!”
He nodded. “Stay calm, it’s just routine questioning.”
I grabbed my tea, clenching the warmth tight between both hands. I tried not to drink too much at once, I didn’t want to pass out again. After all, I’d eaten nothing to line my stomach with. “Okay,” I said, calmly with a gentle nod of my head.
“Where were you between the hours of 9 P.M. and 10 P.M. last night?”
I shrugged. “In a bath, I fell asleep reading.”
He jotted my response in his notepad. “You know it’s dangerous to sleep in the bathtub, you might drown.”
My jaw clenched and my teeth tapped harshly together.
He nodded to me with the top of his head. “How was your relationship with Marissa?” he asked.
“Fine,” I said. “She’s—she was more like a sister to me than anything.”
“You’d have no reason to argue with her then, would you?”
“Argue?”
He dotted his pen on the notepad. “A few weeks back someone said the two of you were arguing about something in the café.”
A waved a hand at him. “Sisters argue,” I said. I took a deep breath, trying to pinpoint the exact moment he was referring to, I didn’t argue often, especially not in public places like the café, it must’ve been something important.
“It was something to do with your thing,” he said, referring to the coven.
I knew what he meant, we’d argued about the amount of crystals necessary to ward a house, Marissa was insistent on doubling each measure as a precaution at the time, I told her one at each entry point. “It wasn’t an argument,” I said. “We were having a discussion and obviously it’s something we’re both passion about.”
Derick, the detective, scribbled more notes into his book. “Do you have any idea who might’ve had something against Marissa?”
I shook my head. “No, I mean, our children grew up together.”
He nodded. “We’re trying to get a hold of her daughter at the moment, is there any way you can contact her?”
“I have a number for—”
“No, no, no, I mean.” He tapped a finger to his temple twice. “Can you get in touch with her?”
My face winced up into a frown. “No, you’ll have to go about it yourself, Detective, her daughter left years ago and I’m sure she doesn’t intend on coming back to be interrogated by the likes of you.”
“The likes of me?” he scoffed.
“Yes, I bet if I was still married to that pig, you wouldn’t even have the gall to come around and accuse me of—of—of murder!”
He gulped hard in his throat, it made a thick heavy clench. “Do you have any idea who she was seeing yesterday?”
“I’m sure she has a client book around somewhere in her house,” I said. “And if you find her cat, bring her over her, I can only imagine she’s distraught.” If anyone knew anything about what had happened it was going to be Marissa’s cat, she wouldn’t speak to strangers, a talking cat would’ve been grounds for its immediate death, but stranger things had happened.
“We’re searching the house now,” he said, scribbling more notes. He folded the notepad before tucking it away inside his trouser pocket.
“If you don’t mind me asking, who found her?”
“I’m not at liberty to reveal that information,” he said, his knees cracking as he stood and stretched himself out.
“Is that all the questions you have?” I asked, taking a sip of tea before placing it on the coffee table. “I’m not sure how much of a help I can be, I’m just in shock I wasn’t there for her. I can’t believe she’s gone.”
“That’s everything,” he said. “If you find out anything else, please contact me, you have my number.”
I ushered him out the door, shaking his hand before he left. It was all I needed, the physical touch, even the briefest connection to feel the emotion running through his body
. It was electric, nerves, perhaps the caffeine in him, but it was drowned out with uncertainty, he clearly had no leads.
“Of course,” I said.
He climbed back into his car as I waved him off, and for a moment, everything seemed okay until I turned and shut the door, shut the outside world off.
I crumbled to my knees and let August sit on my lap.
“It’s okay,” he said, pawing his way to my face. He licked at the tears on my face. “I’m sure they’ll catch the person who did it.”
“I’m not so sure.”
I spent the next thirty minutes sipping on the tea and laying on the sofa. A witch’s energy lived on around us, everyone, but unlike a human, a witch’s spirit found its way into the ether instead of wandering Earth looking over loved ones.
She was really gone. I focused on the energy of the coven, and the cornerstone that she was, was no longer there, her powerful beacon of beaming energy had disappeared. After finishing the tea, my body rested until I woke at 8:30 A.M.
“You don’t have to go into work,” August said as I glanced at him laying on my stomach. “But you do have to feed me.” He opened his mouth wide, almost in a yawn, but it was to show me how hungry he was.
After feeding August, I whipped up a couple eggs and milk into a scramble and plated them on toast. I had to keep my energy levels high, there was no use in wasting the little energy I had remaining on burning myself out.
CHAPTER 6
As an out and proud witch, I was used to all eyes being on me, there was rarely a day when everyone wasn’t looking my way for one reason or another, I didn’t particularly mind it, but today was different, today people had pity in their eyes, and if it wasn’t in their eyes, it was in the energy they gave off when they passed by.
I waited in my car, watching seagulls as they dove mercilessly for food on the ground and squawked as they fought over old pieces of bread.
Several taps on the window rocked me from the seat. I placed my hand on my book in the passenger seat by instinct. Rosie’s big beaming face smiled at me.
“How’re you feeling?” she asked, her voice muffled behind the window.
Muffins, Magic, and Murder Page 3
