A Murder Most Rosy: Supernatural Witch Cozy Mystery (Harper “Foxxy” Beck Series Book 3) (10 page)

My phone buzzed— thankfully on vibrate— and I scrambled to answer it, hissing and cursing into the receiver when I did.

“You’re with him now,” Grandma said. It wasn’t a question.

“Yes, Gran, I am. I’m also on a
covert
mission in a very
quiet
factory, so if you’ll excuse me−“

“You’ll have to undo the spell over that teacher,” she said, completely ignoring me.

“No problem,” I whispered. “Magic dies with the owner. Easy solution.”

She clucked her tongue. “The spell has already been cast. The woman will go on in her state until it wears off.”

“How long will that take?”

“Time means little to me.”

I wanted to punch the wall and roll my eyes at the same time. The woman chose the worst moments to butt into my life and be mysterious. Of course, she might have just not known— or forgotten. If I were a centuries-old witch, I’d probably be missing a few tidbits here and there, too.

Shaking my head even though she couldn’t see me— I thought—I said, “I don’t know any spells that complex. You’ll−“

“It is as simple as unraveling a knot,” she said, and I knew I’d made her angry in some way. “Even the lowliest of witches could do it.”

“Then it shouldn’t be any trouble for you to−“

“Bring the boy by later. I’ve taken a liking to him.”

And then she was gone, leaving me more worried about Cooper’s well-being than ever before. The last person she’d taken an almost liking to was sneaking around under the nose of a killer warlock and his undead slave. Not exactly daisies and white picket fences.

Moving forward and putting my phone away, I slipped on some unidentifiable liquid and went down hard on my already abused knees. The sound was like thunder in the very silent factory, and I winced, rolling behind a pile of trash. Almost immediately, I heard the sloppy footfalls that would likely haunt my dreams for years to come.

Kara lumbered into the main room, pausing to look around every few feet to check for me. I held my breath as she made her way over to where I was hiding. If she found me, I wouldn't hesitate to shoot—or, at least, I hoped I wouldn't— but the gunshots would likely bring Norbert.

When she got within sighting distance of me, I held my breath, praying to the God I didn't believe in anymore, that she wouldn't find me. I didn't pray for myself— nothing could make me do that— but for Cooper. I had to get him out of this.

I'll never know if God interfered, but Kara walked right past me, heading into the next room without so much as sniffing in my direction. I was up and running toward where she'd come from in the next moment. Moving as silently as I could, I raced up a myriad of open stairs to the second level where there were corporate offices.

In my haste, I almost ran past the one that held Cooper, and I kicked myself before heading in. He was tied to a chair, still in in his dinosaur pajamas, with a piece of cut tape over his mouth. Though I'd thought of doing that to him many times, the sight of it drove me into a fit of rage.

I swallowed that anger, moving toward him and ruffling his hair like his father always did. "Hey, kid." I was going to have to rip off the tape, so I distracted him, pointing to the floor. "This is some pretty great shag carpeting. Think I could take it back to the Wheel?"

He winced as I peeled it away from his skin, and I vowed Norbert would pay dearly. "It's stuck on the ground pretty good. Maybe another time," he said.

Ignoring his tough guy act, I pressed a sloppy kiss to his forehead. "You alright, kid?"

Cooper nodded. "Mr. Mason didn't hurt me. And he said he'd let me go as soon as you got here."

Maybe I'd kill him a little quicker, then. Less pain involved.

I untied him from the chair and practically carried him out the door— though, as he pointed out, he could walk. I kept circling around him, even on the stairs, trying to keep my eyes on everything at once. We were mere yards from the door when I heard someone entering the room.

"There you are, Harper." Norbert sounded like he was greeting an old friend for tea.

I squeezed Cooper’s shoulder and pushed him toward the door. It was obvious he wanted to stay with me, but I cut off any arguing with my best "mom" look and sent him packing. There was no way both of us were going to be stuck in here with a maniac. The door slammed behind him and locked with a decisive click.

He came closer to me, taking off his glasses so he could clean them. I wasn't sure I wanted to know what was all over them— you never knew with witches. "I'm so glad we could be alone."

We weren't really, and that was on the forefront of my mind as I kept a watch out for Kara. She wasn't a zombie in the traditional sense of the word, but she was rotting from the inside out. Gangrene held little appeal for me.

"We're not alone," I told him, referring to his victim.

But he took it a whole different way, his face twisting in a way that made him look completely foreign from the sweet, nerdy teacher I'd known. "Your boyfriend is outside— where he'll stay. I've erected wards for our privacy."

That accounted for the magic pulse I felt going through the place. I tried not to let my dismay show on my face, because I needed Norbert to stay calm and reasonable. It didn't help that I wasn't feeling either of those things.

"How could you do this, Norbert? Kill Kara and kidnap Cooper?" I left out the part about him horribly reanimating her like a doll he could play with. My stomach wasn't strong enough to talk about it, especially when I considered actually using my magic to undo her state.

The darkness inside of me rippled at that, expanding in my chest. It was just as eager as the night I'd almost killed that mugger in Miami. Time had done nothing to dull the sharpness of that violent need.

"I didn't mean to hurt Kara," he said. "I loved her. She saw me when no one else did."

"But she didn't love you." I took a shot in the dark. "She loved Officer Kosher."

A large crack appeared in the wall next to us, making a ripping noise that had me stumbling backward. We both looked at it with surprise, which was a little worrying because he'd been the one to do it. I'd felt the power lash out of him, and if he wasn't in control of it...

I needed to get out of there.

"You women," he said in disgust. "You always go for the macho cop type— the one that shoved kids like me into lockers."

"We're awful that way." Or so I'd heard. Before Wyatt, I'd have never considered dating a former jock— mostly because I'd also been that kid stuck in the locker. But it hadn't always been the muscle heads doing the bullying. Children were less discriminating with their cruelty than adults.

His eyes widened. "But not you, Harper. I knew the moment I met you that you were different."

"Is that why you put a gris-gris bag under my pillow? Just like you did to Kara? That's not exactly "different" behavior."

"I thought it would clear up her... doubts about me. Make her love me like she loved that dumb detective," he sneered. "But it was too strong. She... lost her way. With you, I was careful— not as strong a dose went into your gris-gris."

‘Lost her way’ was a polite way of saying she'd gone insane with the dosage of "love" he'd given her. It'd probably been doubly harmful when the subject already loved someone else. Really loved, though it killed me to admit someone could feel that way about that awful Kosher.

"Did you push her off the balcony?"

His expression became stricken. "Of course not! She jumped."

"Because you wouldn't lift the spell. Even after you saw what it was doing to her."

Another crack marred the wall. "I'd rather she be dead than with that man!"

Someone started pounding on the door that I'd come through, and my stomach sunk. "Harper!" Wyatt's voice was like a shot to the heart, because Norbert's face transformed completely when he heard it. "Open this door!" 

"You're not leaving me for him," he told me, the calm before the storm. "I promised myself a long time ago I would never be alone again. You're
mine
."

He picked up a tire iron from the floor, one of the many potentially dangerous items lying around. It took on a new aura in his hands, practically glowing and pulsing with intent.

While he went for the tire iron, my hand twitched toward the gun strapped to my ankle, but he was too fast, and I abandoned that plan in lieu of the old standard by which I live: run.

I sprinted toward the stairs, diving around him when he took a swing at me. Really, were all my romantic entangles doomed to end badly? I couldn’t catch a break with the men-folk.

We were no longer playing nice, so I called behind me, “A tire iron? Seems a little hands-on for a man like you. Sure you don’t want to just magic me off that loft?”

The stairs creaked and groaned under my weight, which I thought was a little excessive. A part of the roof directly above the stretch of second floor that hung out over the main factory floor had caved in, and I could see the sky. It was too far away from me to escape through, and it had let in rainwater sometime in the last week, making my path slippery and treacherous.

              I hit my first patch of sludge and almost slid clear off the side, which was not railed off. For a second, my foot was in open air, and I felt my body headed to join it. My heart jumped out of my chest, but I managed to catch myself before I went over.

              Norbert laughed, right on my heels as he stepped over the last stair. “I won’t have to use this tire iron, after all! You’re gonna fall right over. Just like Kara.”

              I hated it when bad guys were mouthy. That was my job.

              But, speaking of Kara, I’d forgotten to keep a weathered eye out for the undead teacher. Cold arms with strength like steel wrapped around me from behind. She lifted me from the ground, ignoring my kicks as if they were nothing, and held me in place.

              Norbert came over, raising his strip of metal over his head. “I’m really sorry it had to end like this. I thought you were special.” He was so sweet and earnest, it made my teeth ache.

              “I am special, you psycho,” I grit out, struggling against Kara like a madwoman. She was strong, but I was flexible and slippery.

              “Hold her still,” Norbert commanded, and the arms around me tightened, making breathing impossible.

              The tire iron came down at the same instant my head went back. My skull whacked into Kara’s with enough force to knock someone out— if they were alive. All it did was make her drop me, but it was a moment too late.

              Instead of the head blow he’d intended, the iron struck me directly on the collarbone, and a sickening crunch— like someone had stepped on a bag of crackers, but louder— echoed throughout the factory. My scream joined that sound a moment later.

              Pushing Kara away from me, I stumbled down the strip of balcony, holding onto my injury. My head was spinning, and the pain in my chest was so excruciating I could barely see through it. The world had been consumed by shades of lesser and greater pain with my collarbone at the center of it.

              Norbert came after me, looking concerned. “Now, if you hadn’t fought so much, you wouldn’t be in any pain right now.”

              I spat at him, calling him every name in the book— a book I’d practically written. In the background, I could hear Wyatt yelling and bludgeoning the door, trying to break it down. If I could’ve managed it, I would’ve told him not to bother. Magic couldn’t be broken by brute strength.

              The weapon was up over Norbert’s head again, gleaming in the florescent lights and ready for violence. He’d be on me any second, and I struggled to put my hands up to ward him off. They wouldn’t do much good against a tire iron.

              There are those moments in life that inexplicably slow down against your will. You see them in perfect, multifaceted vision and with surround sound. But you’re just helpless to watch as they pass you by— like you’re the supporting characters in a horrible play.

Norbert’s foot slipped as he took his final step toward me. The mud and rainwater mixed under his boot to bring him down. Stumbling backwards, his eyes got real wide as the upper part of his body hung exposed over the side of the loft, feeling every inch of space between him and the floor.

The next moment, he dropped like a stone over the side of the loft. Before I even realized I was moving, I was right on the edge, his hand clasped in mine.

We both looked down to the sharp edges of broken, metal machines below. A body would break almost immediately once hitting those solid edges, crumpling like paper.

Swinging his head back up, Norbert looked me in the eyes. I was sweating from struggling, trying to bring him back up, but he wasn’t helping. And I wasn’t known for my upper body strength.

“Pull yourself up, idiot,” I growled.

He smiled, his eyes slightly unfocused. “I knew you were special.”

Then, he let go.

“No!” I shouted, but it was already too late.

His body hit the metal machines and shattered into a million pieces. I looked away, not wanting to see, but I’d already seen too much. A rush of power burst through the factory, wiping out the barriers that had kept Wyatt out and us in.