It Takes a Witch: A Wishcraft Mystery (6 page)

Mimi gave him a little finger wave. So did I. His features darkened.

“Dad has his
it’s time to go
look on his face. I’ll see you around, Darcy.” She scampered off.

I was still looking at Nick when Evan came back.

He followed my gaze and whispered, “He’s a bit easy on the eyes, isn’t he?”

“A bit.” I felt a blush rising.

He said, “He’s single. Are you?”

“Technically, yes. But not looking.”

“Too bad. He hasn’t taken his eyes off you since you came in. I could feel the heat across the room.” He fanned his face dramatically.

“It’s the rash.”

He laughed. “Where is Alexandra, anyway? She said she’d stick around to give me the antidote.”

As we looked around, Mrs. Pennywhistle came tearing in from the back of the store, wild-eyed, with her hair more on end than usual. She raced past us and stiff-armed the front door. It thrust open, and she rushed into the dark rainy night, a fading pink blur.

I glanced at Evan. “What was that all about?”

His eyes were round with amazement. “I don’t know, but she sure can hustle for an old lady.”

Very strange. Mrs. P was about as outgoing as a person could get. It wasn’t like her to storm out without so much as a good-bye. If the stricken look on her face was any indication, something had upset her greatly.

“Do you think we should go and check on her?”

“At that speed we’ll never catch her.” His eyes softened. “I’ll go by the Pixie Cottage tomorrow morning with some scones and make sure she’s okay.” He looked around again. “I still don’t see Alexandra.”

“Do you really trust her to give you more lotion?”

“She’s really very good at what she does. Just a bad batch this one time. She said she was staying late to talk to Sylar about something. Grab that side of the table, will you?” He made a flipping motion. We flipped the table over and folded in the legs.

“Meeting with Sylar? About what?” I couldn’t imagine Sylar wanted anything to do with the woman—not after the way he reacted to seeing her, not to mention the wish he’d made.

Huh. Maybe it had been granted after all, since she was nowhere to be seen.

Evan’s brow wrinkled. “Not sure.”

Hopefully not for any face creams. “Well, I haven’t seen her since the meeting ended.”

I wish Alexandra Shively would go away forever
.

A chill ran up my spine.

“I’m not sure how much longer I can deal with this rash.” He scratched his cheek. “That antidote has to work.”

“Have you thought about seeing a doctor?”

“I will if I have to. Hopefully Alexandra has the cure. She said she’s been working on one.”

He scratched some more, and I had to wonder just what had been in the lotion in the first place. If Alexandra considered herself a Crafter, she could have been toying with any number of herbs or extracts that would cause a reaction modern medicine wouldn’t know how to treat. I made a mental note to talk to Ve about it—maybe she had some tips or tricks to help Evan.

Nick and Mimi left. Marcus, too—without an introduction to Harper, as far I knew—and just about everyone
else had gone as well by the time I finished helping Evan load his van.

I met up with Ve and Harper at the register, where they were chatting with Gayle and Vince.

He was saying to Harper, “So we’ll see you tomorrow morning?”

Harper’s cheeks turned red. “Bright and early.”

What was this about?

“What’s this about?” Ve asked as if she had read my mind. “Did I miss something?”

Harper rocked on her heels. “I’m going to be working here at the bookstore part-time.”

“We’re glad to have her,” Gayle said. “I’ve not met someone so knowledgeable in so many genres since my Russy died.”

I noticed Vince’s frown and wondered how he and Gayle got along. Was Harper about to become a pawn in some sort of power play they had going on?

Harper’s vast knowledge came as no surprise to me. As an English lit major, she loved all books, all genres, and a bookstore was her kind of heaven—even if I thought it might not be the best use of her degree.

I opened my mouth to ask her if taking this job was such a good idea, but quickly snapped it closed. It wasn’t my decision to make. I couldn’t keep watching over her, trying to protect her, trying to make her decisions.

“If that’s okay with you, Ve?” Harper added.

“Whatever makes you happy.” She patted Harper’s cheek. “We should get going home, though. Tilda shouldn’t be left alone for so long with Missy.”

Tilda was the family cat, who was none too pleased with a new dog in the house.

Ve looked around. “Has anyone seen my scarf? I found my sweater, but not my scarf.”

“Not since you handed them both to Sylar,” I said.

“Maybe he still has it,” Ve said. “But has anyone seen
him
? He was supposed to walk back with us.”

“He was here a minute ago,” Gayle said.

Ve looked toward the back door. “He probably stepped outside for a moment. He wants me to think he quit smoking, but I know he still sneaks a few cigarettes a day.”

“I’ll check for him,” I offered. I cut through the romance section and walked along a narrow hallway, past a restroom, a small kitchen, a storeroom, and an office.

I opened the back door and was surprised to find Sylar kneeling on the ground, an unlit cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Rain fell steadily.

Sylar’s glasses wobbled on his nose as he looked up at me, his face drained of color. Rain dripped off his chin. It was then that I noticed that he was kneeling over someone.

I stepped forward. Alexandra Shively lay on the ground. My breath caught when I spotted Ve’s beautiful turquoise scarf knotted tightly around Alexandra’s neck.

“We need to call the paramedics,” Sylar said in a small voice.

There was no use. Alexandra’s face was swollen, blood trickled from her nose, and her eyes were wide-open and bulging, but not seeing anything at all.

She was very clearly dead.

F
luffy white clouds hung low in the morning sky when I woke up to the
tap, tap, tap
of water dripping from the gutters. For a second I was disoriented, wondering where I was, where Troy was, and why his side of the bed was cold.

Then realization struck hard and fast, like a sucker punch in the gut. I rolled over, hoping the swift pain would subside quickly. It usually did. I came nose to nose with Tilda. The Himalayan’s light blue eyes shone as she swiped a paw playfully at my cheek and flicked a whisker in my direction. She let me scratch behind her ears and reluctantly let out a soft purr.

It was progress. I was on a mission to win her over. If the fur balls hacked up on my bedspread every other day were any indication, Tilda wasn’t happy I had moved in. Over the past few days, though, I felt more and more like she was coming around. She often followed me when she thought I wasn’t looking, and now here she was purring in my bed.

I glanced around for Missy, who usually slept with me, but she must have cleared out when Tilda came in. Smart dog—Tilda’s claws were sharp.

As I stretched and yawned, I squinted at the small digital alarm clock on the nightstand. It was just before seven. The storms had lasted most of the night, but today
was supposed to be warm and sunny. A perfect June day.

I listened for sounds in the house—the perking of the coffeepot, Missy’s toenails on the wooden floors, the soft drone of the morning news.

All was quiet except for the squeaking of the floorboards down the hall. Someone was awake. This early it had to be Aunt Ve. She was definitely an early riser, often up and about as early as five a.m. On the flip side, she was usually tucked into bed with a romance novel and a mug of peppermint tea by ten every night.

We were a lot alike. I was usually up bright and early and tucked into bed at a reasonable (well before midnight) hour, which might sound boring to some, but to me…it was comfort. I found reassurance in routines, in regularity.

When Troy and I first started dating, he said he found my quirks charming. By the time I kicked him out, my quirks had turned into excuses for his bad behaviors. I didn’t like to travel, to entertain, to go out every night…to give up on a marriage because of a few difficulties. No, those were
his
specialties.

I rolled into the middle of the bed just because I could and tried to tell myself I enjoyed all the extra space. Scratching Tilda’s head, I listened to her purr as I contemplated buying a twin mattress.

I tried to recall what time Aunt Ve had finally come in last night but realized I didn’t know. I’d planned to wait up for her but had fallen asleep sometime around three. Last I’d seen of her, she was still at the bookstore and was waiting for Marcus Debrowski, whom she had retained on Sylar’s behalf, to return. Turned out he was the best Lawcrafter around. From there, she planned to go to the village police station, where Sylar had been taken to be questioned more extensively by local detectives.

Things weren’t looking too good for Sylar at this
point. I couldn’t help but think back to the wish he had made about Alex. Had Sylar taken matters into his own hands? Hard to believe he would, especially since people knew of his intense dislike of Alex, but I didn’t know him well enough to judge if he was capable of committing cold-blooded murder. I didn’t want to think so. Didn’t want to think someone I’d found likable and pleasant could have a darker side. But I also knew people were complex and complicated. Nothing was black-and-white. No one was perfect, and heaven knew we could make mistakes. And hide who we truly were, good or bad. Or both—I’d certainly been fooled before.

And well, wasn’t I hiding, too? I was a witch. It had been almost too much to comprehend at first, but as the days slipped by and I used my powers more and more, the truth of who I really was had begun to slowly sink in. Not that I could tell many about it.

Tilda swatted my face again, this time with a bit of claw and a sharp
rrreow
.

Apparently I’d been fooled again, this time by a fluffy white and gray Himalayan in need of an attitude adjustment. “Just when I was beginning to like you,” I said to her.

Tilda stared at me with an air of superiority before hopping off the bed. She pranced to the door, threw a look over her shoulder, and let out a sharp, insistent, thoroughly ticked-off
rrreow
.

It was a familiar meow. She was hungry. (She was always hungry.) Odd that Ve hadn’t fed her already…usually it was the first thing she did every morning.

I grabbed my glasses from the nightstand—I was in no mood to deal with my contacts—and pulled my hair into a loose ponytail. After slipping on a pair of shorts, I zipped up a sweatshirt, brushed my teeth, and finally followed a prissy Tilda along the upstairs hallway to Ve’s room.

The door was open wide, and her bed hadn’t been slept in, which meant she probably never came home last night.

The wood floor creaked under my feet, which roused Missy from Harper’s room across the hall. Whereas Tilda was reserved, Missy was all enthusiasm. She charged through the doorway, her feet nearly flying out from under her, an out-of-control snowball. She lost her footing and slid straight into Tilda and both bumped into the wainscoting. Tilda shrieked and hissed and started swiping, claws fully extended. Missy, perpetually optimistic, licked Tilda’s ear and then yelped as claws made contact with her nose. More hissing ensued before Tilda gave one final swipe and took off.

“You certainly know how to make an entrance.” I rubbed Missy’s curly-topped head and checked for damage. A small scratch ran across her nose, but it wasn’t too bad. I was glad to see some of her former wild and crazy attitude come through. Maybe her shift in personality was just a result of growing up. I supposed that made perfect sense, and I felt no vet appointment was needed after all.

Harper stuck her head out the door. “Everything okay out here?”

I noticed her hair was wrapped in a towel—she’d been up for a while apparently. “Fine. Missy had a little run-in with Tilda. You’re up early.” She rarely woke up this early voluntarily.

“I start my new job this morning, remember?”

In the midst of all that had happened last night, I had forgotten. Harper had a new job at Spellbound Books. I opened my mouth, but before I could get a word out, she said, “And don’t try to talk me out of it.”

I snapped my mouth shut, reconsidered my choice of words, and said, “Is the bookshop even open today? After what happened last night?”

The murder. I didn’t want to say the words aloud. I
didn’t even like thinking them. My mind flashed to the image of Alexandra in the back alley, and my stomach rolled.

And to think that I had considered the Enchanted Village so safe. How wrong I’d been!

Harper leaned against the doorframe, her eyes filled with curiosity. “Did you get a really good look at the body?” She’d always had a morbid interest in forensics. “I’ve been thinking a lot about it, and maybe there’s a clue on Alexandra’s body as to who really killed her. Because it couldn’t have been Sylar.”

“No, I didn’t get a good look,” I lied, very clearly picturing Alex’s lifeless body. Harper would be beside herself with the details of Alex’s bulging eyes, swollen tongue, and bluish coloring. “Besides, I’m sure the police have it covered.”

I also thought there was a reasonable chance Sylar had killed Alex, but I kept that opinion to myself. Last night, as soon as the police had taken Sylar away, Ve and Harper had gone back and forth about who the “real” killer could have been and had even started making a list of possible suspects. I thought of the two of them playing detective and almost groaned. Harper was all about a good cause, and if she felt Sylar was innocent, I could only imagine the lengths she’d go through to prove it.

And Ve. Poor Aunt Ve. She was as caught up in what happened as any person could be. Last night she had loudly and insistently proclaimed Sylar’s innocence to anyone who would listen.

Harper lifted one eyebrow as though she thought I was crazy for putting all my trust in the police, but she didn’t press for any gruesome details. “As far as I know, the store’s open, and I’m due in at eight. I thought I’d get there early—it’s important to make a good impression, don’t you think?”