Instead I saw his smiling face and kind brown eyes in pictures of him building a house for Habitat for Humanity with his uncles, going with his grandmother to help feed a colony of feral cats she looked after, of him in church with his mother. And so many shots of Thomas and his two much younger sisters enduring toe nail paintings and tea parties, always with that smile. It appeared that he’d been something of a live in babysitter and raised by a single working mom.
Her page broke my heart. There were so many comments offering condolences from her friends and family, with her sister popping in to say that the mom was checking her page as often as she could bear to look, but it was just too difficult and she was still in shock.
One thread was particularly informative. For a moment, I wondered how people could post such private things so publically, but it was the easiest way to keep everyone up to speed. Apparently, the state police weren’t releasing the body until the full autopsy was completed and the toxicology report came back, so there was no way to plan a funeral.
Kyle commented that he and his friends had been asked to stay in the area, but they had no intention of leaving until they could take him home anyway. He also said that the police suspected foul play, no surprise, and that the town they were in was ‘out of this world, in a really creepy way’. I guess that shouldn’t have surprised me either.
Geez. Thomas was only 21 and had just celebrated his birthday a few months ago in typical human style, bar hopping with his friends. Juno, Alicia, and Kyle really showed him a great time because he was the youngest of the group and that was the first time they’d all been able to go out together, with their legitimate ID’s anyway.
Judging by the throwback pictures of them as kids, it seemed the group had been tight since grammar school in their hometown suburb of Boston. Between these photos and the reactions I saw at the crime scene, it was nearly impossible to imagine that one of them had killed Thomas. Plus, Zinnia said they’d all been in their rooms at the Inn and he had left alone after getting a phone call from what sounded like a girl he was interested in.
So I had to find the girlfriend. I’d gotten the name from eavesdropping on the cops, so it wasn’t hard to find Kaitlynn Emerson. I was definitely surprised when I saw her profile picture. I shouldn’t have been, I was aware that she was in Dewdrop. But I never would have suspected the airhead with the duck lips and gaudy fake wand taking selfies everywhere.
She was bouncing all over the cemetery the night after Thomas’s murder like she didn’t have a care in the world. It was hard to imagine that she hadn’t heard about his untimely death. Even if it was just a fling, wouldn’t she be upset? At least a little disturbed? It should have rained on her selfie parade just a bit.
And what a selfie parade her Facebook was.
Kaitlynn didn’t have scores of photos of her doing good deeds, unless one considered posting pictures looking down her shirt a good deed, which I’m sure some of her 1842 friends did. All in all, her profiles weren’t atypical for a girl her age, really. If there were any shots of her with Thomas during her relationship, she’d deleted them.
But some had just tagged her in a throwback picture on his page. Her hair was shorter and darker, and her face rounder, nearly cherubic with youth. And then, right before my eyes as I refreshed, she posted a similar picture with the words ‘I can’t believe he’s gone. RIP Tommy xoxo.’ I refreshed again to see a new folder filled with pictures of them together. Their relationship must have been in high school because they’d attended prom and homecoming together and the last shot was them at graduation.
That was three years ago, though. Ancient history as far as college kids are concerned. Could she still be upset about their breakup? Enough to kill him?
I refreshed Facebook and saw that one of her friends had posted condolences on her wall. Kaitlynn had replied when I reloaded again and I stalked the thread for the next twenty minutes, hoping that she’d say something useful. She didn’t.
Bliss whined under my desk and nudged my foot with her nose. She had no problem letting herself out because she was the smartest dog in the world and could unlatch the screen door, but she wanted me to come with her. I decided that I could use some fresh air and give my eyes a break from the computer screen.
I followed her around for a while outside, deadheading flowers and saving seeds as she dug around for moles. There were very rarely any moles to find and when she did, she ran them up across the road instead of killing them. I think the crazy mutt just liked digging holes. The gravel on the driveway crackled and I turned my head to see Wesley driving back with Dot in the front seat, still in that white dress.
“You didn’t bring a change of clothes?” I asked as she got out of the car.
“I didn’t think I’d want to stay around as long as we did,” Dot replied. “And the dress is pretty comfortable anyway, you know, because it conforms to your body perfectly and hems itself to match your height. Plus I spilled coffee down the front of it and it didn’t stain.”
“You did that on purpose just to see the magic, didn’t you?”
“No, her hands were really shaky when we got to Wicked Brew.” Wesley offered a paper to-go cup with hearts drawn all over it. “The twins sent you some coffee.”
“Potion free,” Dot added.
“Thanks,” I said. “So, how was it?”
“The town is definitely, to use Maudrey’s favorite words, in a tizzy.” Dot bent down to pet her cats that had wandered over to greet her.
“But there were no pitchforks,” Wesley said. “Which I have to admit I found a little disappointing because I was ready to throw down this morning. You know, verbally.”
“Everybody was there waiting for you, Gemma. There was a crowd outside the door at Spark and Elements.”
“What did they want?”
“To see the cards. And to know what you saw last night when you got them. I didn’t tell.”
“They all had to make do with ‘sensing my energy’ to confirm I’d gotten the blessing. And…” Wesley held up a carved wooden box overflowing with potions and protective talismans. “I got a gift basket, since Hetty clearly wants me to live. Belinda wants me to come by her house for a free sigil tattoo.”
“Belinda tattoos people?” I asked.
“Apparently.”
“I’m pretty sure she also wants you to impregnate her,” Dot murmured.
“Yeah, I picked up on that part, too.” Wesley shook his head. “But like I said, no pitchforks. Everybody wants to know if you’re okay.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, it was weird,” Dot started. “Every witch in town was really supportive.”
“They all know about the Cognata spell you cast at the museum. Amethyst tattled.”
“And now that it’s out there that Thomas was legit murdered, they’re all so… I don’t know. Feeling remorseful? Ungrateful?”
“There was an introspective vibe, for sure,” Wesley said.
“Really?” I asked. “From the self-absorbed witches in Dewdrop?”
“Oh yeah.” Dot’s eyes widened as she nodded affirmatively. “Did you know this happened twice before?”
“What did?”
“Hetty’s freak out,” Wesley replied. “She went off on everybody once in 1932 because they weren’t doing enough good during the Great Depression. And, uh…”
“1857,” Dot finished. “She was upset about slavery.”
“Wow. No, I didn’t know that.”
“Ariadne was giving a history lesson by the well in the middle of the square,” Dot said. “And people were actually listening.”
“Then they all started brainstorming about how to make things right. Dewdrop might be starting a homeless shelter soon. Or at least a homeless cat shelter. And the proceeds from Aunt Clea’s potions are supposedly being sent to Thomas’s mother.”
“And everybody is angry at Eliza.”
“Everybody,” Wesley repeated, comically mimicking Dot’s bobbing head and crossed
arms.
“What else is new?” I scoffed.
“No, they are really pissed off, Gem.”
“Why?”
“Because she overstepped Hetty and tried to take your cards!” Dot informed me. “The Goven held a meeting late last night without her or any of the Earth witches.”
“Dang.” I rifled through Wesley’s gift basket and picked out the three most powerful talismans for him to wear. “Were the cops still there?”
“Yeah, taking statements. No Kavanagh, though,” he replied, pulling the first necklace over his head. “The tourists are still around, too.”
“And everybody is being crazy nice to them.”
“Tabitha was even letting them buy kittens.”
“What?” I balked.
“You know, if the kittens matched up with the tourists. Energetically,” Dot explained. “She does kind of have a surplus of kittens right now. Wesley might even be getting one.”
I felt my face light up. “Really?”
“I am not taking that kitten,” he shot back.
“Oh, but it was perfect for you,” Dot squealed. “Puuurrrfect.”
“How perfect?” I asked. Wes always wanted one when he was younger.
“So perfect. It’s on hold.”
“She’s not on hold!” Wesley protested.
“Oh my Goddess, you so want that kitten,” Dot teased him. “You just called it a she.”
“I did not…” He let out an exasperated sigh. “I’m taking a nap.”
“A cat nap?” Dot called after him.
He glared at us over his shoulder as he disappeared into the house. Bliss appeared at my side with a wriggling mole held gingerly in her teeth. Dot’s cat Mr. Patches spotted the prey and licked his lips. He leapt at Bliss’s face, sending her flying up the driveway in a cloud of dust, hungry felines trailing close behind.
Dot stood with her hands on her hips, watching the race. “You know, I think your dog has an ongoing mission to rescue moles from the cats.”
“I think she might.”
“Well, I’m going to get changed. I might take a nap, too. We were up pretty late last night.”
“You deserve it,” I said. “I’m glad hyacinth duty wasn’t too horrible.”
“It was kind of horrible,” she laughed. “But I’d do it again.”
“Like, the day after tomorrow, maybe?”
She gave me a ‘no duh!’ look and nodded. “Oh, that reminds me. The sidewalk sale has been pushed back because off all that’s happened and something about Venus being in retrograde.”
“Pushed back how far?”
“A day or two,” Dot laughed. “I think it had more to do with Venus than the murder.”
“Probably.”
“A lot of witches think if our prices are low enough it would count as goodwill toward Woodshade.”
“Those witches wouldn’t happen to be carrying extra inventory that they made for the sidewalk sale, would they?”
“Oh, of course not!” Dot answered sarcastically as she turned and started walking toward her cabin. “How could you ever had suggested such a thing, Gemma? For shame!”
I laughed and shooed her off to her nap. Bliss stomped down the driveway panting, flanked by disappointed cats. I took her inside and started stalking around on the internet for more information about Kaitlynn and found her Twitter account.
I can’t believe I’m stuck in this creepy town and have to miss work tomorrow! #RIPThomasMadigan but this is really inconvenient
Thank GOD! got a hotel in Woodshade only a few more hours in this freak show. #RIPThomasMadigan
Hmm. Posted 20 minutes ago. Looks like someone is in a hurry to leave. I refreshed the page and saw another tweet.
Oh no, can’t leave yet getting questioned by the police in a few minutes! sooo nervous #RIPThomasMadigan
With the all clear from my brother and cousin, I decided that it was safe enough to try my luck in town snooping around. I’d exhausted all my online options and that was the only place I’d find any extra clues. Not to mention, I was very curious to check out a remorseful, introspective Dewdrop. That surely wouldn’t last very long.
If I was going to do that, I needed to protect the cards. Dewdrop had a non-existent crime rate, well, at least it had until the recent murder, but I couldn’t take any chances. There honestly wasn’t much I could do to keep them safe magically. Any witch that was serious enough to burglarize my house could break any spell I was powerful enough to cast.
Thankfully, these would be difficult to detect. There were virtually no family artifacts exclusively from Wonder to create a tracking spell that would lead a thief to something of hers. I set up protections on my bedroom door and window so it would appear that I was hiding them there in case anyone came knocking. Then I took a stone wrapped in a scrap of gray of cloth outside and buried it behind my house, just in case someone was watching.
In reality, I took the cards to my aunt’s cottage. Nobody malicious would bother them, if for no other reason than they didn’t want to spend the next half hour gossiping or being lectured about whatever happened to be on the old witches’ minds, which is what I almost got stuck doing. Almost.
I decided I should stop at the Dewdrop Inn first and ask Zinnia if Kaitlynn had been up in her room when Thomas got that phone call. If she had, she couldn’t have been the killer. But the police had probably already done that, right? If she’d had an alibi, why would they be interviewing her?
Maybe I’d get lucky and see her taken away in handcuffs. Surely one of her friends would snap a picture of the iconic moment for her Facebook wall.
Chapter 16
The town square was unusually quiet when I pulled up in front of The Sizzling Cauldron. Apparently, I’d missed the introspection. It was just as well, because I wasn’t in a mood to be mobbed anyway. I didn’t actually go inside the restaurant for that reason, but I was happy to see that the boycott was over and it was nearly half full with witches gobbling down fried foods. As I recalled from my part time waitressing job in college, that seemed pretty good for a late afternoon between the lunch and dinner rushes.
I stepped into the lobby of the Inn and saw Zinnia’s eyes light up. “Gemma!”
“Hi…”
“Oh, my Goddess Gemma, you were so right. It wasn’t pixies.”
“I’m still wondering if my life would be easier if it had been.”
Zinnia mused on this for a moment, then shrugged. “So, did you bring them with you?”
“What?”
“What?” she repeated, her brow furrowing together unevenly as if I was insane. “The cards!”
“Oh. Um…”
“Let me be the first to offer you the chance to do your readings here. No one uses the lobby much and all this beautiful furniture goes to waste, really. Can you imagine if I actually had to dust all those nooks and crannies in the woodwork? I don’t see how humans keep up with it!”
“Yeah, I—”
“Were you already thinking of doing readings here? Is that why you came? My grandmother told me that her third cousin used to scry here back when she ran it. She had a corner set up over there with drapes she could close for privacy. Apparently, there are pictures, I’m trying to track them down. You could do the same, we still have the drapes. She was very popular.”
“I haven’t even thought about doing readings.” I couldn’t even shuffle the deck, but I wasn’t about to admit that.
“The drapes are emerald green, but we could change them or you could bring your own,” Zinnia answered as if she hadn’t heard me, probably because she wasn’t listening. “And I’m sure you’ll be doing readings at Wicked Brew, I know how close you are to your cousins. They do have a lovely picture window that would bring in business. I just want to let you know that I have no problem with that. No problem with that whatsoever. I’m not interested in competition. Cooperation, Gemma. Cooperation is the new trend around Dewdrop and if you ask me, it’s high time. High time, I say.”
She had a lot to say as always. Sheesh. Zinnia was babbling on about how nice the front window was at The Sizzling Cauldron, too, but she understood that the grease in the air could be a problem. I was just trying to collect my thoughts and find a way to get a word in edgewise.
“Actually,” I cut her off because that was the only way, “I can’t start doing readings here or anywhere because—”
“You can’t use the cards yet,” Zinnia interrupted me, as was her conversational style. That wasn’t what I was about to say, but that didn’t make it any less true. “Don’t worry about that, Gemma. Don’t you worry about that in the least! I’m sure any of the scryers around here would be more than happy to teach you, even if you’re not a…” She trailed off and looked down at her hands.
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