Dizzy Spells (9 page)

I shook my head. “No, I don’t think it’s
him.”
I hope it’s not him
, I added silently.

“Well, who then?” Thyme asked. “It fits with
the pattern of what his family always did.”

“Maybe it’s the person who paid him to
follow me. Maybe that person is the murderer, and they paid him to
take photos of me so they could Photoshop them onto the victim’s
photos,” I said. I thought that was clever of me, but Thyme looked
skeptical.

“That’s a bit of a stretch, isn’t it? And we
really don’t know if anyone has employed him to watch you, or
whether he just made that up.”

I shrugged. “No, not really. Whoever sent
those photos to the cop is obviously trying to frame me.”

“Well, we can’t let that happen then, can
we?” Thyme said. “I’m going to cast a spell.”

“A spell?”

Thyme nodded. “A spell to speed up the
forensic tests and prove that you had nothing to do with it. Do you
mind if we put a ‘Back in ten minutes’ sign on the door?”

“No, that’s fine. We don’t get many
customers on a rainy day, anyway.” I hurried off to do as she
asked.

When I returned, Thyme was in the process of
placing dishes on the floor. “Hey, see those four dishes?” she
said, putting the last one down. “Put one candle on each and light
them.”

I placed one candle upon each small dish.
“What happens next?”

“This is called a circle of protection. Some
witches, before they cast a spell, protect the area from harmful
and negative energies,” Thyme explained, walking to the center of
the candles. She then pointed at each one as she continued. “These
candles each represent one of the elements, as well as each of the
cardinal points. We’ll use them to call the quarters.”

“Oh,” I said. “Is this really going to work?
The forensic team will just randomly get the results faster? And
I’ve been reading up on witches. Isn’t casting a circle a Wiccan
thing, but you’re traditional witches, not Wiccan?”

“There are no rules, really,” Thyme
explained. “Traditional witches are usually eclectic. We borrow a
bit here, a bit there. Ruprecht doesn’t cast a circle, but I like
to, because it helps me focus. Sometimes I don’t, though.”

“Oh,” I said. “Sorry to ask. I’m still
fairly new to this.”

“We were all new once upon a time,” Thyme
replied, “and questions are good. Ask as many questions as you
like.” She turned to the first of the four candles. “I ask that the
God and Goddess bless this circle so that I may be free and
protected within this space. So mote it be,” she said, spinning and
pointing her arms around the circle. “Now I’m going to call the
quarters.”

I was lost in my own thoughts for a moment
or two, but then focused on Thyme as she went through all four
elements. “Guardians of the North, element of earth, I call upon
you to be present during this ritual,” she said. “Amelia, please
pass me some of that coffee.”

I fetched it for her and placed it in her
hand, making sure not to step out of the circle. “Here you go. So
coffee speeds up spells?” I asked.

Thyme nodded. “I’m adding it to this spell.
See, this is a yellow candle for communication.”

I then stood quietly, watching Thyme.

“Spirits and guides, I ask you now for
swiftness,” she said. “We seek for the authorities to hurry and
find out that the photos of Amelia were photoshopped. I thank and
release you now!”

I looked around the room, and at the same
time I could feel a strange sensation all around me. The flames on
the candles momentarily flared. At that moment I felt sure that the
spell would work—I just wasn’t sure exactly how it would work.

I smiled as a feeling of hope washed over
me. Maybe now things would get sorted out and the police would
believe me. Other than a few altered photographs and the corpse on
my porch, the cops had no reason to think I was involved in Thomas
Hale’s death.

The spell was over and Thyme had closed the
circle. “Okay, all done,” she announced. “We should be hearing from
the police sometime soon.”

“So how exactly is this spell going to work?
How will it affect the people doing the forensic tests?”

Thyme smiled. “The worst thing we can do is
to try to figure out
how
a spell is going to work. I asked
that the police would get the results that the photos were faked
quickly. The spell was to speed things up. How that plays out is
rather irrelevant. Don’t even think about it. Now we’d better hurry
and open the shop.”

Chapter 14

“They’ve put onion in it again,” I complained
bitterly. “I clearly told them that onion makes me sick.” I tossed
the whole salad into the trash.

“Couldn’t you have just picked the onion off
the top?” Thyme asked me.

I shook my head. “No. I get sick if I eat
anything that onion’s touched. Well, that only leaves the beet
fritters.”

After my trying day, I’d invited Thyme home
for dinner. Obviously, I wasn’t going to cook, so I’d bought take
out for us at the Middle Pub on the way home.

Bayberry Creek was a three pub town. In
Australia, towns are often categorized by their number of pubs, an
Aussie pub being a combination of hotel, bar and often a
restaurant. All three pubs in Bayberry Creek served good food, but
the menu at the Middle Pub was my favorite. They just seemed to be
a little overly fond of onion.

The TV suddenly turned on by itself.

Thyme let out a squeal. “How did that
happen?” she asked.

I groaned. “It’s the house. It’s become
obsessed with watching Mixed Martial Arts tournaments and a whole
lot of old martial arts movies—you know, Kill Bill, Seven Samurai,
or anything with Bruce Lee, Jackie Chan, Steven Seagal, Jean-Claude
Van Damme, Cynthia Rothrock and all those actors. Sometimes I’m in
the middle of watching a good movie and the house suddenly changes
the channel. To tell you the truth, I’ve given up, and I end up
watching those movies with the house.” I realized how strange that
sounded as soon as I said it, but if anyone would understand, it
would be Thyme.

In fact, after several attempts to watch
The Notebook
with the house changing the channel every few
minutes, we finally gave up and watched
Enter the
Dragon
.

We had just finished our meals when there
was a loud knock on the front door. I exchanged glances with Thyme.
“Who could it be?”

“Answer it and you’ll find out,” Thyme said
smugly. “I’ll take these plates to the kitchen.”

I rolled my eyes and hurried down the long
hallway of the house, dodging Willow and Hawthorn as I went. Why do
cats always try to trip you up when you’re in a hurry?

I could see the silhouettes of two people
through the stained glass panels of the old doorway. It was hard to
tell if the people were male or female through the pink and green
glass.

As I reached for the brass doorknob, I
peered through the glass panes, wondering if more bad news was
about to be delivered to me.

I opened the door with my heart in my mouth.
Standing there were the two detectives, Harrison and Sassafras.

“May we come in?” Harrison asked.

They weren’t holding handcuffs, which I took
as a good sign. Harrison was holding a folder. I wondered if he
went anywhere without it. After a moment of staring at them with my
mouth open, I opened the screen door and let them in. They followed
me into the living room.

Thyme hurried into the room. “Is everything
all right?”

Harrison simply glanced at me as he opened
his folder. He threw some photos onto the coffee table. They slid
across and stopped just short of going over the edge. “These are
the photos of you and the victim that we were sent.”

I raised my eyebrows at Thyme, but she
simply shrugged. The detective’s tone was accusatory. Had they
found out that I was telling the truth, or did they actually think
that the doctored images were real now? Panic set in as my
breathing became labored.

“You don’t have the results back from
forensics already, do you?” I asked him.

When Harrison shook his head, my heart sank.
“No, one of the uniformed officers who is a keen photographer had a
look at the photos.” He leaned over and picked up one of the
photos, and then held it up as if he were making a presentation.
“If you pay close attention to the edges of your image in the
photos, there’s an imbalance with the lighting. It’s hard to see if
you don’t know what you’re looking for. They have been
doctored.”

I breathed a big sigh of relief. “Does that
mean you believe me now?”

“We have to wait for forensics to give us
the official word,” Harrison said, “but for the purposes of our
investigation, we now know that those photos are fake.”

“And that means that we think someone
altered those photographs for a reason,” Sassafras said, his eyes
narrowed.

“Of course they did it for a reason,” Thyme
interjected, glaring at the cop. “Someone’s trying to frame Amelia.
Can’t you see that?”

“The evidence does suggest that someone is
trying to frame Miss Spelled, but who would want to do that?”
Harrison asked, focusing his gaze on me. “And how did they get
photos of you?”

“I really don’t have a clue,” I said. “None
of this makes any sense to me!”

“Oh come on,” Sassafras shot back. “If you
expect us to believe that someone is trying to frame you for
murder, you should be able to name at least one person that would
want to do such a thing. Are you saying you don’t know a single
person with a motive to bring harm your way?”

“No!” I said. “I’m the victim in this and I
don’t appreciate being treated as a criminal. I don’t know why
anyone would do this, but someone has!”

“Yes, someone who also has access to photos
of you,” Harrison added.

“Maybe this person killed Thomas Hale and
just wanted to pin it on the first scapegoat that they were able to
find,” Thyme said. “Perhaps they only chose Amelia because the body
was found on her porch.”

Harrison put his hands on his hips. “We
aren’t saying that suspicion is still focused on you,” he said,
staring at me, “but until we know exactly what’s going on and who’s
behind it, we need to investigate every possible avenue.”

I sighed and looked over at Thyme. She
didn’t appear any happier with the officer’s response than I
was.

“I still think you have to have some type of
idea who would do this to you though, in all honesty,” Harrison
continued. “It would help if you could give us a name. Do you have
any enemies? Who would want to do you harm? Maybe an ex-boyfriend?
A disgruntled business associate? An unhappy customer?”

“I really can’t think of anyone,” I said. I
had sent my ex-boyfriend to the hospital with food poisoning,
entirely by accident of course, but he was hardly likely to kill
someone just to frame me for murder. He was upset, but he wasn’t
that upset.

* * *

Later that night, after Thyme had left, I
decided to try a spell of my own. According to my notes, vanilla
and sugar were added to spells to make people well disposed to the
spellcaster. I sure needed that. The cops were no doubt still
somewhat suspicious of me, and Kayleen shook her fist at me every
time she saw me. That morning, I had even gone to the Post Office
to pay for a Post Office box and a mail redirect from my home
address to the box. I was irritated that I’d had to go to those
lengths and expense just because my mail lady had a personality
disorder.

I assembled the items for the sweetening
spell: self-lighting charcoal disks for burning incense, as well as
sugar, vanilla, honey, and clove buds for friendship, and rosemary
for happiness.

I stood in my kitchen and wondered what to
do next. I wasn’t going to cast a circle. After all, Thyme had said
that it wasn’t necessary for traditional witches, and I was a
traditional kitchen witch. At any rate, I wasn’t sure I would do it
correctly.

I wrote my intent on a piece of paper:
‘Everyone around me is happy.’

I got my ovenproof dish and set it in the
middle of the table. I half filled it with sugar, and then drizzled
honey around the edges. Everything I’d read said that honey and
sugar were used in sweetening spells. I put clove buds as well as
sprigs of rosemary from the garden on top of the sugar. Next to the
dish, I placed my small cauldron. It had been my aunt’s. I put
sugar in the cauldron.

I fetched the bottles of self-lighting
incense. I had sandalwood, basil, pennyroyal and rosemary. One of
the books in the house’s library stated that these were the
ingredients for ‘happy home incense’. I mixed them together in a
small dish.

I had also learned that birthday candles are
ideal for a quick spell. I shoved the birthday candle down into the
sugar, and luckily, it stood upright.

Now to start. I took a deep breath and lit
the birthday candle. I picked up a charcoal disk with tongs, and
held it over the flame. It fizzled and sparkled for a while, and
when it stopped, I dropped it into the cauldron. I then grabbed a
handful of the happy home incense and dropped it in the cauldron as
well. At once, it produced thick white smoke, which quickly filled
the room.

I turned my attention to the birthday
candle, but it had already burned down to the level of the sugar.
At that moment, the sugar burst into flames. My studies had
indicated that sudden flames were a good sign that the spell was
being fulfilled, so I didn’t know whether to be pleased or alarmed.
The decision was made for me when the flames reached the
ceiling.

I grabbed the first thing I saw, the
self-lighting incense, and threw it on the flames to douse them. It
had the opposite effect. By the time I’d filled a bowl with water
and thrown it on the flames, the kitchen was filled with smoke.