Spell Booked (Retired Witches Mysteries Series Book 1) (5 page)

BOOK: Spell Booked (Retired Witches Mysteries Series Book 1)
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“I guess there’s no real hurry, is there? The medical examiner will have her for a while.”

“That’s true. I’ll let you know how that goes. She tried to fight off her attacker. I hope we’ll have some DNA to help locate him.”

“Thank you for whatever you can do. If Elsie or I can be of any use in the investigation, let us know.”

He squeezed my hand as I got to my feet. “Don’t worry, sweetie. We’ll find him.”

“I’m going to take a quick shower and get dressed. Are you going to get some rest before you go back out?”

“No. Lisbet is already waiting for me. We’re gonna go over and see the ME. You should probably try to get some sleep. Did you have something planned for today?”

“Not really. I’ll probably open the shop for a while. I have to check on Olivia’s cat.”

“Why don’t you bring him here? I’m sure Isabelle won’t mind. We could take care of him.”

Of course he had no idea. Isabelle hissed at the very thought as she listened to us from the screen door.

“We’ll see,” I promised. “I’ll talk to you later.”

I took a quick shower as Isabelle sat on my bed and promised dire consequences for any cat I brought home. She still knew plenty of spells, she told me, from her time as a witch. She could use them if necessary.

“It won’t be necessary.” I dried my brown hair. I could still manage to keep it that shade without a trip to the hairdresser, although once it had turned pink. My son had thought it was cool. I’d had some explaining to do.

I took out one of my favorite outfits, one that Olivia had given me for my fiftieth birthday. It was exactly the color of my blue eyes, a cornflower shade. I asked at the time if she’d spelled it, but she’d sworn that she’d found it in a little dress shop at the Outer Banks.

The dress fit like a well-worn glove. I loved it, and the tiny matching jacket that had puff sleeves. I put on my cauldron and chain, the symbol of my power as a water witch. That had come from Elsie the same year.

That had been eight years ago, a good year for me. My magic was still strong, and Mike was still living at home. He was always practicing basketball in the driveway and playing video games until I yelled at him to go to bed.

Sixty wasn’t looking as promising as fifty had. I had dreaded it for a while. Now with Olivia gone, the dread had become reality.

I slipped my feet into worn, but serviceable, black pumps—would Olivia’s ghost ball return? It was unusual for a witch to avoid moving on after her death. Sometimes there was unfinished business.

Olivia’s death had certainly left a lot of questions unanswered. There was no time to prepare. She might decide to defy the laws of nature to find some peace.

Joe kissed me quickly on the cheek when he had changed clothes and was ready to go. “Be careful today,” he warned. “We don’t know yet what happened to Olivia, or if it might affect you in some way. You and Elsie watch your backs. Don’t take any unnecessary chances. Call me right away if either of you think of anything that could help us find her killer.”

I hugged him tightly and gave him a proper kiss before I put on my makeup. “You don’t have to worry about us. Elsie and I know how to stay out of trouble.”

CHAPTER 5

Show yourself now to me,

Man of unknown identity.

Let your light be clearly seen,

So we may find where you have been.

I picked Elsie up at her house. She hadn’t driven in years.

Aleese answered the door. She had the brilliant copper red hair in tight curls that her mother had passed down to her. She also had Elsie’s diminutive height and petite build. But she had her father’s mournful brown eyes.

“I can’t believe you’re here today, Molly.” She closed the door after I’d walked inside the foyer of the old house on Grace Street. “You and Mother were out very late last night. I don’t know if she’s even up yet.”

“Of course I’m up.” Elsie bustled down the stairs, her purple hat with green flowers matching her dress. “I haven’t slept past six
A.M.
since before you were born, Aleese.”

Aleese was an accountant—very good with numbers but not much of a people person. She tended to be very serious and didn’t see the world as her mother did, with humor and tolerance. The death of her young husband hadn’t helped matters.

“I really don’t think the two of you should go out today, especially to that terrible shop. Mother told me what happened to Olivia. Do you think it’s a good idea to hole up in that dusty old place after that?”

“I don’t think it makes any difference,” I replied. “No matter where we are today, Olivia is still dead.”

“Besides, it will be better at the shop,” Elsie added. “That’s where the three of us have always gone. And there’s Harper to check on, you know.”

Aleese gave in with a heavy sigh. “Molly is much younger than you, Mother. She can recover from these things much faster than you can.”

Elsie picked up her purple bag. “I’m not dead yet, dear. I think I still know when I can go out. I’ll see you later. Have a nice day at the office.”

We marched out the door together.

“I believe Aleese is thinking of herself as your mother again,” I remarked as we got into my car.

“She’s always thought of herself that way.” Elsie held on to her hat as she got in. “It’s her most annoying trait. How is Joe doing?”

“He’s been very kind and careful around me—when he isn’t asking me dozens of questions about Olivia. He even made breakfast this morning after he worked all night.”

“Wasn’t that considerate?” She pulled on her seatbelt. I fastened it, as I always did, since she could never find the clip. “You know, my husband couldn’t even make food on the grill. I wouldn’t have considered it much of a kindness to have to eat his breakfast.”

I laughed at that. Elsie’s husband, Bill, had been a lot older than her and had strong traditional ideas about the roles of men and women. He wouldn’t have cooked or cleaned if it had meant his life.

“So, what are we going to do today to find Olivia’s killer? You’re the detective’s wife. I assume you have some ideas.”

“I’ve thought a lot about it. We should start at the shop and do a locator spell from there. If Brian wasn’t careful and left some of himself there, we should be able to find him.”

She nodded. “That sounds like an excellent place to start. And very ambitious. Do you think we can pull it off?”

I wasn’t sure and changed the subject. “Joe asked about Olivia’s will and what would happen to her belongings.”

“I’m assuming they’ll come to us.” Elsie shrugged. “I’m sure she didn’t have a will. I can’t imagine who else would get her things.”

“I can.” I glanced at her as we stopped at a red light. “Can’t you? Remember what happened with Darla Linsky?”

She looked confused for a moment and then her green eyes sharpened into focus. “Oh, that witch from Morehead City who moved here and wanted to join our coven. I remember her! She was an earth witch, so it would’ve been a perfect match.”

“But she was struck and killed by that woman driving a pink Cadillac. She died with no will, and the Grand Council took everything. That could happen with Olivia.”


No!
That would be terrible. There has to be something we can do to keep that from happening.”

“I don’t know. We can talk to Olivia’s lawyer. He might have some idea of a relative, however distant, who could be her heir.”

“That’s a good idea. Let’s do that after we find Olivia’s killer and convince Dorothy that she’s the witch for us. Sounds
easy
.” She laughed at her simplification.

I laughed at
her
as we pulled into our parking space at Smuggler’s Arcane. There was already a mud-colored Volkswagen Beetle parked in the space beside us. To our complete surprise, Dorothy Lane got out and waited for us. She was dressed in street clothes this time and appeared more coherent.

“Well, I declare.” Elsie slapped her thigh. “Will wonders never cease?”

Dorothy didn’t look any less afraid than she had last night. She was trembling as we approached her. Her smile was tentative.

“Good morning,” Elsie greeted her. “Don’t you think morning is the best time of the day?”

“Not really.” Dorothy hunkered down in her jacket. “Can we talk?”

We went inside, not caring if our companion saw us open the spelled door without a key. Thank goodness it worked. That would have been embarrassing since were trying to recruit her.

“That was kind of cool.” Dorothy smiled a little, a chipped tooth exposed. It made a whistling sound with her
s
’s. “Can you do all kinds of little tricks like that?”

“Oh, that’s not a trick, dear.” Elsie was quick to point out. “It really happened. These aren’t parlor gimmicks magicians do.”

“Why me?” Dorothy took off her coat and put her enormous multicolored bag on the table. “Why were you stalking
me
to be a witch?”

I took off my coat too and stowed my bag behind the counter. “We weren’t stalking you exactly. Our friend—”

“The dead one?” Dorothy asked.

“Yes. Olivia Dunst. She saw you one day at the library and recognized you as an earth witch. We observed you for a while, until we could get a sense of who you were and what you were like. Not anyone would do, you know.”

“That’s kind of creepy, even for a witch.” She peered closely around the shop again. “So you two are
really
witches? Good witches, right?”

“Don’t be silly,” Elsie said. “There are no good or bad witches. Just witches. Like you.”

“Me? I’m not a witch. Maybe I look like one.” She peeked in an antique mirror. “What’s an earth witch?”

“An earth witch gets her strength from the earth,” I explained. “You’d feel strongest in a forest, for instance. I’m a water witch. I feel strongest around the river and the ocean, so Wilmington is a good place for me.”

“Not so good for me,” Elsie added. “I’m a fire witch. In this town, there’s so much water that it’s a little suppressive. I’m strongest with a fire close by.”

Dorothy nodded, taking it all in. “What kind of training are we talking about to be a witch?”

“There’s no training. I mean”—Elsie stumbled in her explanation—“there are spells and incantations to learn, and some herb lore. It helps to understand the natural world because our abilities derive from nature. Otherwise, you’re either born a witch or not.”

“If I was born a witch, how could I not know after all these years? Nobody ever said anything.”

“You were orphaned,” I tried to explain. “The chances are good that your mother and grandmother were witches too. Most girls get their information from the women in their families as they’re growing up. In your case, there wasn’t anyone to teach you.”

“And what do you want me to do? Do we dance around naked in the moonlight? Do we ride goats or something?”

I gazed into her haunted, questioning eyes. “Why did you come back, Dorothy?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. After I left here last night, I kept thinking about you, and this place. I had some really freakish dreams. When I woke up this morning, I knew I had to come back.”

“There’s a bond between witches that can’t be broken once you become aware.” I put my hand on her shoulder. “You learned that there was something else in the world yesterday—something you didn’t know was possible. You’ll never be able to forget it. You may choose not to practice magic, but it will always be part of you now.”

She bit her lip. “You didn’t answer me. What do witches
do
?”

“We observe and protect the laws of nature. We interact with the natural elements of the world. But Elsie and I have been witches for a long time. Our abilities are fading. We need new witches to take our places and to continue adding spells to our spell book.”

As Dorothy digested all of that, Elsie went off describing the history of witches, of how they had helped defeat Hitler in England during World War II and had kept terrible things from happening all over the world. It was a rich and heavily embroidered tale, but one I could see had impressed our new recruit.

“That sounds awesome.” She grinned. “Who
wouldn’t
want to do that? Where do I sign up?”

Elsie and I exchanged glances. I knew we were both thinking the same thing.

As much as we needed Dorothy, things had become rather complicated to try to take in an uneducated witch. Our hunt for Olivia’s killer could get dangerous.

“We would definitely love to have you with us,” I assured her.

“But now is not a good time,” Elsie continued. “We have to track down Olivia’s killer. It could get very sketchy, not the best opportunity for a new witch.”

Dorothy shrugged. “I’m not afraid. I want to help. How was your friend killed?”

Elsie went into detail on Olivia’s death in the alley. “You see, you wouldn’t want to be involved.”

To her credit, Dorothy swallowed hard and made her decision. “I want to help. I’m sure I’ll learn a lot about being a witch by helping.”

“Okay,” Elsie agreed. “If that’s what you want.”

“I don’t think it’s that easy,” I interrupted. “We’ll be using magic that she won’t be able to use for years. It’s not a good idea.”

“Please, Molly.” Dorothy put her hands together like a child, her large brown eyes beseeching my approval. “Let me help. Even if I can’t do the magic, I’ll know it exists.”

Elsie played with a reddish ringlet near her ear. “And there’s always the chance that we’ll be able to tap into her fresh, young
magic
.”

I sighed. This was really not in any plan we’d ever formulated for a new recruit. But neither was Olivia’s death. As with many things that seemed to happen out of order, sometimes it was best to go with what you had. That was part of the natural way of the world.

“All right. Don’t blame me if things get a little strange.”

Dorothy squealed and hugged me. She took a step back. “Is that okay? Do witches hug? I wouldn’t want to do something I wasn’t supposed to.”

“That’s fine.” Her naïve enthusiasm was refreshing. I felt jaded beside her.

“No,” Elsie said. “It’s not fine if you don’t hug
both
witches. Otherwise the other one—
me
—might get offended.”

Dorothy hugged Elsie too, and we sat down.

“We need to start here at the shop. Brian was here with Olivia. We know he touched certain things, which left behind part of his essence. That will be our best way to track him.”

Elsie was already brewing the potion that would allow us to see where Brian had been in the shop. The steam from it began to rise and slowly fill the room.

“Do we need special glasses?” Dorothy whispered. “Like 3D or something?”

“No.” She was going to have to learn to keep still. “What we need is quiet so we can concentrate on finding our strengths to add to the potion, which will make it work. No tool or herb will work without the magic we give it from inside ourselves.”

“Okay.” She closed her eyes tight and wrinkled her nose as she concentrated.

The steam continued filling the shop. Harper hid in the back room where we kept some of our rarest artifacts and medicinals.

“How long will this take?” Dorothy whispered. “I only ask because I haven’t had coffee yet, and I’m afraid I’ll fall asleep.”

“Shh!”
Elsie frowned.

Another few minutes passed. The steam was beginning to pick out Brian’s footprints on the hardwood floor. As it rose upward, it would show his fingerprints—and hopefully more about him that we could use.

“It might help if I knew what Brian looked like,” Dorothy said.

“It has nothing to do with that.” I didn’t open my eyes. “It has more to do with patience and quiet.”

“Sorry. I guess I’m a little fidgety.”

By this time, it was possible to see everything that Brian had touched. The steam showed dark places where he’d fingered books and touched vials and powders in paper.

“Wow!” Dorothy opened one eye and looked around. “I can see it. How awesome is that?”

“It would be a lot more awesome if you didn’t tell us about it until the potion is finished,” Elsie snapped.

“Sorry.” Dorothy closed her eyes again and sighed.

The steam reached out for the image we needed, creating a ghostly replica of Brian. It was an odd picture since the strongest image of him was when he was standing with his arm around Olivia right before they left the shop. With his arm up around empty space, he looked as though he might fall over.

BOOK: Spell Booked (Retired Witches Mysteries Series Book 1)
6.88Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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