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Authors: Heather Blake

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BOOK: Gone With the Witch
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My jaw dropped.

She giggled again, swatted him, and stepped into his arms for a steamy kiss that had my eyes widening, then squeezing shut, as the kissed morphed into a grope-fest with X-rated intensity.

Ew, ew, ew.
Ivy was not paying me nearly enough to witness this.

Baz said, “Soon, my dear one, soon. We'll be together. All our dreams will come true.”

“Promise?” Natasha asked, cuddling close to his chest.

“I promise. I love you.”

“Not as much as I love you.”

I was feeling a little queasy as they fell into another steamy embrace.

When they parted again, Baz said, “‘Well
 . . .
I guess we'd better get Irving's car and get out of here.'”

It took me a moment to recognize the quote from
Roman Holiday
. That's right. Baz had an Audrey Hepburn obsession. And now that I looked more closely at Natasha, I saw that she resembled the famous actress quite a bit, with her thin petite stature, her triangular face and big brown eyes.

It couldn't be a coincidence.

Natasha laughed and swatted him, promising to see him later. She fluffed her hair, and sashayed down the hallway. At its end, she turned left, back toward the showroom.

Baz watched her go, then tugged Audrey's leash. At the end of the hallway, he turned right, heading toward the dog yard.

Blinking in disbelief, I took a deep breath, tucked the spy pen back into my pocket, and was about to follow Natasha when I heard the barest puff of an exhalation.

It hadn't been mine.

The noise had come from behind me.

Close behind me.

Adrenaline shot through me, and bumps formed on my arms as I suddenly suspected I wasn't alone.

Bracing myself, I slowly turned and gasped. Sunshine
spotlighted the woman standing there, which made her look like an angel with her beautiful fair skin and long blond hair.

But I considered her to be a devil in disguise.

She let out a gusty sigh. “Why am I not surprised to see you here, Darcy Merriweather?”

Chapter Five

S
etting a hand over my pounding heart, I backed up a step and leaned against the door. “I'm not sure,” I said to Broomcrafter Glinda Hansel as I tried to catch my breath, “because I'm surprised as hell to see
you
here.”

Her nose wrinkled, and the barest of smiles graced her sparkling pink glossy lips. “Did Ms. Goody Two-witch just say ‘hell'? I don't believe my ears.”

“What can I say?” I drew my shoulders back and tugged the hem of my T-shirt. “You're a bad influence.”

At that she laughed. It was a beautiful melodious sound that only added to her angelic appearance. She adjusted the strap of a pink sundress and said, “I'll deny it to my last breath.”

Glinda and I had our many differences, and were what some would call frenemies. Friendly enemies. We were working on being more friends than enemies, but change was hard. We'd become set in our ways over the
past year. She'd once had romantic feelings for Nick, and had used her prior relationship with his former wife, Melina (they'd been best friends as teenagers), to get close to his daughter, Mimi. It had been a brilliant plan to worm her way into their lives.

Once Glinda realized how committed Nick was to me, she'd eventually moved on from him and was currently dating Liam Chadwick, a talented village artist. Even still, about six months ago, her dislike of me got the better of her, which had resulted in her leaving the village police force and driving what we all thought was a permanent wedge between herself and Nick and Mimi.

However, it turned out that her feelings for Mimi hadn't been an act, and we'd all eventually called a truce in the interest of Mimi's happiness.

Glinda's and my mutual love for Mimi was truly the only thing holding our so-called friendship together, but that lone tie was enough to firmly anchor our acquaintance.

“Aren't you supposed to be downstairs with Clarence?” I asked, wondering what she was doing up here.

Clarence was Glinda's energetic golden retriever. I had a fondness for him, despite whom he belonged to. He was entered in the Wag It category and had a good chance at winning.

“Liam's with him.” She pursed her lips. “Aren't you supposed to be with Missy?”

“Evan's covering for me while . . .” I broke off, not wanting to explain why I was following Natasha, who was now out there somewhere, possibly tripping or poisoning people, namely Marigold Coe. “Actually, I need to get going.”

Glinda grabbed my arm as I turned. “What are you doing up here, Darcy? Did Vivienne Lucas hire you, too?” Suspicion clouded her blue eyes. One sandaled foot tapped a furious beat against the tile floor.

It took me a moment to process what she'd said. “Vivienne? No, I'm working for Ivy.”

In addition to putting her Broomcrafting talents to good use at the local art center creating beautiful wooden crafts, Glinda had recently opened a PI agency here in the village, and she hadn't lacked for clients. One of whom was apparently Vivienne Lucas.

Glinda let go of my arm, and a pale blond eyebrow shot upward. “
Ivy
hired you to watch Baz Lucas?”

“No, not Baz,” I clarified. Sunlight streamed in through tall paned windows, highlighting dust mites floating in the beams. “So, Vivienne hired you to tail Baz?”

“Yep,” Glinda said. “To catch the cheating bastard in the act.”

I suddenly recalled that butt pinch in the hallway and felt heat flooding my cheeks. If Vivienne had hired Glinda, then she had to have suspected Baz was stepping out.

“Do you ever wish you could change the future?”

Vivienne's words from yesterday swirled inside my head, creating a tiny storm of empathy, but now I realized what she meant by saying she was trying to take control. Good for her.

Shaking my head, I said, “I can't believe he's cheating.”

“Well, believe it,” Glinda said. “He's a cheating dirty dog.”

It certainly seemed that way. “How long has he been seeing Natasha?”

“I'm not sure.” She tucked a long blond strand of hair behind her ear. “I've been on the case for a month, but can never seem to catch them in the act. I have a couple of silhouetted pictures and some blurry video of them sneaking around in the dead of night, but nothing definitive. Baz is extremely careful when they meet. He makes sure of that. The money, you know.”

“Money?” I said, not really following.

“He's loaded, remember?”

I did now that she mentioned it. He came from old money. The kind that built additions onto museums and hospitals.

“He and Vivienne have an ironclad prenup,” Glinda explained. “If they divorce, she gets a pittance. Unless . . .” She tipped her head, allowing me to fill in the blank.

“He's caught cheating.”

“Right. They have an infidelity clause. If he's cheating, she gets a windfall. Ten million.”

“Say what?” I squeaked out. “Ten
million
?”

“Yep,” Glinda said. “And if I can deliver irrefutable proof of his cheating, she's going to give me five percent of that as a bonus.”

Five percent.
Five hundred thousand dollars
.

Oh. My. Gosh.

“Which is why you couldn't have come in here at a worse time. I'd have had video evidence of Baz and Natasha canoodling if you hadn't stuck your nosy head in here when you did.” She held up her smartphone, which was playing the video. It showed Baz sneaking into the hall closet, then Natasha joining him a moment later.

“Did you just say the word ‘canoodling'?” I couldn't help teasing.


You're
a bad influence, Darcy Merriweather. And no offense, but I'm just going to delete the part of this recording where you snuck in here. I see enough of you in person, thank you very much, so I don't need to hold on to this as a keepsake.”

“Actually, I might be able to help your case.” It was the least I could do to help Vivienne.

“How so?” Glinda asked.

I held up my pen. “It has a hidden video camera. I
had it running the whole time Natasha and Baz were in the hallway.”

Her eyes widened. “I could kiss you, and that's saying something.”

“Please don't.” I suddenly frowned as something caught my eye.

“You don't have to make that face. I can assure you I wouldn't enjoy the kiss, either.”

The video she'd taken had been playing on a loop while she was speaking, and I reached out and snatched the phone out of her hand.

“Hey!” she exclaimed.

My hand shook as I said, “How did you do this?”

“Do what?” she asked, sounding as if she were dealing with a crazy person.

Maybe she was, because I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Maybe I was losing my mind.

I held up the phone. “This! How am I on this video? Do you see me?”

“Have you gone batty, Darcy? Of course I see you. I was recording when you came in—” She abruptly stopped talking and her eyes widened as realization hit. “I—I don't know.”

So I hadn't been seeing things.

My image was on this video.

Me. With my long dark hair and golden blue eyes.

It was startling to say the least.

Because I, as a Wishcrafter, should have been nothing but a bright white light on this video.

I reached for the doorknob. Forget Natasha. I had a bigger problem.

I had to find Ve.

*   *   *

Glinda was hot on my heels as I rushed down the grand staircases toward the showroom. We weren't the only
ones in a hurry. Starla was taking the steps upward two at a time, headed toward me, her camera in hand.

I thought for certain she was going to say something about capturing a Wishcrafter image, but instead she said, “Darcy! I've been looking everywhere for you. Evan's been stalling the judges. They can't judge Missy without you there.” She grabbed my hand, and her blond ponytail swished side to side as she pulled me along. “You're about to be disqualified.”

At the bottom of the marble staircase, I glanced around the event hall and said, “Do you know if Ve is back from lunch? Have you seen her? I've been calling her cell phone, but she's not answering.”

There must have been something in my tone that had alerted her to trouble in the air, because she stopped dead in her tracks. “She's not back yet. Why? What's wrong?” She flicked a glance at Glinda and frowned.

Glinda held up her hands in surrender. “It has nothing to do with me. This time,” she added under her breath. She skirted around us and headed straight for Vivienne Lucas.

I turned my attention back to my friend. “Have you taken any pictures of Ve or Evan?”

Confusion flickered in Starla's blue eyes. “Not specifically because, well, you know, but I'm sure there are a few shots with them in the background. I haven't reviewed the photos yet, but I'll just delete those ones. Why?”

“It's the strangest thing. Take a look at the photos. I bet you'll be surprised by what you see. Glinda had this video—”

“Darcy!” Evan yelled, cutting me off as he stomped toward me. “The judges finished with Natasha five minutes ago and are waiting for you. Come on!” He grabbed my hand and tugged.

Like brother, like sister.

To Starla, I said, “Please go find Ve for me.”

With a nod, she spun around and hurried off.

I stumbled along until Evan suddenly let go of my hand, stepped behind me, and pushed me forward, his hands firmly on my shoulders as though he was suspecting I'd flee at first chance.

Truth was, the thought had crossed my mind.

Right now the Pawsitively Enchanted competition was the last thing on my mind. Something big was going on in the witch world, and I needed to make sure Ve knew about it.

“Here she is,” Evan said brightly as he presented me to the judges. “I told you she'd be right back.” He bent and picked up Twink, gave my arm a squeeze, and blended into the crowd.

As my gaze flicked over the judges' faces, I pasted a fake smile on my face. “Hello!”

“Nice of you to join us, Darcy Merriweather,” Dorothy Hansel Dewitt said, her tone dripping with condescension.

Dorothy, Glinda's mother, and I had a long history of disliking each other. She was short, busty, and crazy as a loony tune.

“Sorry,” I said. “I, uh, the restroom had a line . . .” Not entirely a lie.

Next to Dorothy, Ivy Teasdale was giving me an icy glare. No wonder, as I'd obviously not been keeping an eye on Natasha as I'd been hired to do. She was clearly unhappy with me.

I peeked across the aisle to find Natasha grinning at me like the Cheshire Cat over the rim of a cardboard coffee cup. She was obviously enjoying the fact that the judges were clearly displeased with me.

Titania had fallen asleep on her velvet cushion, and the half-naked men were nowhere to be seen—probably on their lunch break.

I noticed that the coffee cup in Natasha's hand looked as though it had come from Baz and Vivienne's display—it was that telltale Tiffany blue.

Had she no shame at all?

Had
he
?

Now that I knew they were carrying on, I couldn't help replaying Natasha and Baz's every interaction today and wondered how I'd misread the obvious signs. The gooey-eyed glances. The giggly conversations. Sure, I'd witnessed them, but I had chalked them up to Baz's flirtatious personality. It made me a bit queasy as I looked his way. His attention, however, wasn't focused on Natasha right now—it had been captured by the whispered conversation going on between Vivienne and Glinda.

Vivienne's eyes had narrowed, her lips had pursed, and her face had flushed as she glared at her husband.

With her hands fisted at her sides, it was obvious she was infuriated. No doubt, Glinda had just informed her of Baz's exploits.

With a big grin, family friend Godfrey Baleaux stroked his white beard and said, “You're here now, Darcy, and that's all that matters. Let the judging begin!” His big belly jiggled, straining the buttons on his vest as he chuckled.

The event photographer busily snapped pictures of Missy in her pen as Reggie Beeson bent down and made a noise that sounded like a combination kiss and cluck. Missy trotted over to her, her tail wagging, probably expecting another dog cookie.

Missy's tail stopped wagging when she realized no snack was forthcoming.

I understood her disappointment. I could use a cookie right about now, too.

I set the spy pen on my display table and tried to focus on the judging. I scooped up Missy and held her
close to my chest. Her heart beat rapidly beneath my hand, and I stroked her back to calm her down a bit. The judges stepped over, one at a time, for a closer look at Missy's eyes.

Her tiny tail wagged as Godfrey said, “Soulful eyes.”

It thumped harder as Reggie leaned in and said, “Lovely. Just lovely.”

Ivy shoved a pink streak strand of hair out of her eye and spent more time looking at me than Missy. She mouthed,
You're fired,
then quickly stepped backward.

My jaw dropped, but I couldn't quite defend myself to Ivy at this moment.

And after a moment of consideration, I asked myself why I would want to. I shouldn't have taken the job to begin with. I'd known it when Ivy hired me, and I knew it now.

I had to learn to say no.

Being fired was a
relief
.

After the judges departed, I'd pack up, find Aunt Ve, have lunch with Nick and Mimi, and then Missy and I would go home. She'd be thrilled.

As the event photographer snapped photos, I eyed his fancy camera and wondered what would show up on his display screen. Was he capturing a white starburst? Or was my true image showing up?

I couldn't quite ask without raising suspicions.

Dorothy moved in for her time with Missy, and the little dog bared her teeth and tried to nip her.

BOOK: Gone With the Witch
7.26Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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