by Lily Webb
“Yeah, I have a perfectly reasonable one. I was there for a political town hall along with the other candidates running for Head Witch, as you well know,” I said.
“So I did. But what I don’t know is how you came into possession of a coin associated with the National Wand Association — a coin that only members of the organization receive when they join?” Mueller asked as he flicked the coin into the air and caught it. He slammed it face up on the table.
“If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a hundred times; it wasn’t my coin. After Lydia’s attacker dodged my binding spell, someone in the crowd bumped into them and knocked them down. The coin fell out of their robes in the scuffle and they disappeared. I picked it up and the next thing I knew Ivy was behind me shrieking about how I’d killed her sister,” I said.
“I have to admit that version of events sounds much more believable,” Mueller said as he sat down across from me in a rickety folding chair that squealed protests against his weight.
“Look, I’m sure you’d like to jail me as much as anybody else in this town, but I didn’t kill anyone.”
Mueller chuckled and shook his head, his jowls flapping. We’d had our fair share of conflict thanks to me sticking my nose in his investigations over the last few months, but I doubted he’d believe I murdered someone — not after all the cases I’d solved for him.
“No, I don’t want to jail you, at least not for this,” he said, smirking. “The trouble is, I have no one else I can point the finger at so why don’t you tell me any and everything you remember one more time?”
“Okay. The short version is I was answering a question Lydia asked me during the town hall, and the next thing I knew, some unhinged warlock had a wand pointed at her back,” I said. “What more do you need?”
“What kind of question did Lydia ask you?”
“She wanted to know what each of the candidates planned to do about the wand reform issue,” I said and Mueller raised one of his eyebrows at me.
“Now that’s interesting,” he said. “The biggest proponent for wand reform got killed while asking about it. What are the odds?”
“Math isn’t really my thing, but I’m willing to bet they’re slim. Honestly, it doesn’t feel right. I can’t put my finger on it, but something doesn’t add up,” I said.
“Agreed,” Mueller said. “So what do you think really happened then?”
“They planned it; they must have,” I said. “For starters, it’s no coincidence that the attacker sat right behind Lydia. That wasn’t on accident, and this attack wasn’t random.”
“If you keep this up, you’ll be taking my job someday,” Mueller said.
“Don’t worry, that’s a job I never want,” I said.
“You’re smart to think so,” he said. “Anyway, that fits with the attacker dropping an NWA coin, though I’m skeptical that wasn't part of the setup too. The NWA is way too cautious to let something like that happen.”
“Do you really think the attacker planted a coin on themselves in the off chance someone stopped them?” I asked as I picked the coin up from the table and slid my fingertip along its edge.
“Stranger things have happened around here, that’s for sure,” Mueller said with a shrug. Boy, did I know that, all too well.
“But why would they target Lydia Crowe?”
“You’re joking, right? Zoe, if you really want to be Head Witch, you need to be more on top of things than this,” Mueller said. “Lydia and her sisters are the three most prominent supporters of wand reform and the NWA has been attacking them relentlessly since they introduced their measure to restrict wand sales a few months ago.”
“So you think this is purely political? But that doesn’t add up either, because surely the NWA is smarter than to hire assassins to take out their political opponents, right?” I asked. Mueller threw his hands in the air.
“After the things I’ve seen happen around here for the last few months, I rule nothing out anymore. It’s also possible that the attacker acted alone. Maybe they were all raged up on NWA propaganda and decided to take things into their own hands,” Mueller said.
“Wait a second, Lilith only knows how many cameras were in that room. Surely somebody got pictures of the attacker, or maybe even video?” I asked.
“Probably, but no one‘s come forward yet and if they’re worth their salt, they won’t until they’ve tried to sell whatever photos or video they have to the highest bidder.”
A realization struck me like a hammer against an anvil. “You only have to talk to one,” I said.
“What do you mean?”
“There was a photographer sitting right next to Lydia when the attack happened, and I guarantee they have photos. Maybe not during the attack itself, but definitely before and after,” I said.
“Do you have any idea who this photographer was?”
My hope deflated at the question.
“Honestly, no, I don’t have a clue. I’d never seen him before, but I’m sure I could ask around. It’s not like this town is big, and the media professionals all seem to know each other,” I said, already thinking of Beau who I knew was in the waiting room. If Beau didn’t know who the photographer was, he could point me to someone who might.
“I’m no political expert, but it might not be the greatest idea for a candidate to go poking around asking questions about a murder,” Mueller said. He had a point there, I couldn’t argue. But if I didn’t ask, who would? And more than that, if I didn’t figure out who killed Lydia, it could sink my campaign. Talk about a Catch-22.
“No, probably not, but I don’t want this hanging over my head for the rest of the campaign. We have to figure out who’s responsible for this,” I said.
“Agreed, and it’s obvious it wasn’t you,” Mueller said.
“Good. Does that mean I can go now?”
“I have no compelling reason to keep you. But do me a favor, who and wherever you ask about this, try to keep it quiet, please?”
“I’ll do my best,” I said. “Can I hang on to this coin? Something tells me it might jog memories.”
“Sure, good thinking. Maybe we can learn to work together after all,” Mueller said.
“Thanks, I hope so,” I said and pushed back from the table. Mueller offered me a hand, and we shook on it, though I wasn’t sure what good it would do. I stood, and he walked me out of the tiny interrogation room into the lobby where my entire team sat waiting for me. As expected, Beau was the first one to notice.
He bolted out of his chair and ran. His hair stuck up in every direction, his eyes looked hollow, and when his hands met my shoulders, he seemed defeated.
“So? What’s going on?” he asked.
“Nothing. They’re letting me go for lack of evidence,” I said, feeling Mueller’s eyes boring into my back as I spoke.
“That’s fantastic news, though I hardly expected otherwise,” Raina said as she drew up beside Beau looking equally exhausted. Grandma and Mallory joined shortly after, and much to my surprise, Flora Gemwood, my fairy ex-roommate and coworker at the Moon Grove Messenger, was there too.
“Flora? When did you get here?” I asked.
“I came over as soon as I heard the police had taken you into custody. Mitch has us working overtime on the story, and it doesn’t sound good so far,” Flora said.
“How bad are we talking here?”
“The story is already getting blown out of proportion,” Flora said. “Nobody really knows any facts, so they’re filling in the blanks.”
“What does that mean?”
“What Flora is trying to say is that the media assumes you’re responsible,” Raina said and my stomach flipped.
“I don’t understand. How could anyone think I had anything to do with this? I was standing up on stage when the attack happened answering a question,” I said.
“The running rumor is that you or someone on your behalf paid a third party to take out Lydia,” Flora said.
“That’s absurd!
Why would I want to hurt her?”
“Allegedly because she wouldn’t support your campaign,” Flora said.
“That’s the exact opposite of what happened. I turned her down, not the other way around,” I said.
“We’ll have a spell of a time getting anyone to believe that now,” Raina sighed.
“Not if we prove you’re innocent,” Grandma chimed in. “Far as I can see, that’s our only way outta this.”
“Even if we proved it wasn’t me, we don’t have time to recover from this. I’m doomed,” I groaned. Then I realized: this was a political hit job, designed to kill two witches with one spell; they removed Lydia from the picture entirely and took my campaign down simultaneously. As heinous as it was, I had to admit it was brilliant.
“It ain’t over till it’s over, Sugar,” Grandma said, resting her hand on my shoulder.
“She’s right. We’re here for you, no matter what. I can’t speak for everyone else, but I’ll do whatever I can to help you figure this out and get your campaign back on track,” Beau said as he pulled me into his arms to give me a hug. The sweet, familiar scent of him gave me just the comfort I needed, and I squeezed him tight.
“That goes for all of us,” Flora said. “Why do you think I’m here?”
My throat tightened as my eyes burned.
“I don’t know what I did to deserve you guys, but I’m glad I have you,” I said.
“The feeling is mutual,” Mallory said. “So, what’s our strategy? We need to get out there and get moving on this fast.” I could always count on her to cut right to the point, and I loved her for it.
“As difficult as it will probably be, I need to find out who the photographer was beside Lydia,” I said. “I assumed that between Beau and his contacts, we’d be able to narrow it down pretty quickly.”
“Wait, are you talking about Damon Fade? The super tall, brown-haired guy?” Mallory asked and my heart skipped a beat.
“You know who he is?”
“I mean, I think I do, assuming we’re talking about the same person,” Mallory said.
“How do you know him?” I asked.
“Well, I wouldn’t say I know him so much as I know of him. He’s a photographer for the NWA’s official magazine,” Mallory said, and the air left my lungs like someone had punched me in the gut. It was so obvious that it hurt.
“We need to go over to the NWA office before Damon has the chance to destroy those photos. Something tells me it wasn’t an accident he was near Lydia.”
“Hold on now, slugger. Don’t go gettin’ yer panties in a bunch just yet,” Grandma said, holding me in place by my shoulders.
“What do you mean, ‘hold on?’ We need to move and fast,” I said and tried to shrug out of her grip but Raina reinforced it.
“I understand the urgency, Zoe, but we have to be careful how we handle this,” Raina said. “The NWA is immensely powerful, and like it or not, we’re still in the middle of a campaign. You aren’t a journalist anymore, you can’t go running after people like you used to do; think about how it will make you look. Every eye in town is on you, now more than ever,” she said.
“She’s right. Besides, Damon isn’t going anywhere, and if he really saw anything or got it on film, I highly doubt he’ll be in any hurry to destroy it — especially not if he was part of the plan,” Mallory said.
“Then what am I supposed to do, just sit by and let this quietly ruin everything?” I asked.
“No, here’s what you do: first thing tomorrow morning, hold a press conference. Condemn the attack, express your condolences to the Crowe sisters, and set the record straight. Part of the reason things are spiraling out-of-control right now is because no one really knows what’s going on. We need to fix that first,” Mallory said.
“And a press conference has the added benefit of drawing, well, the press,” Rena said. “You’re a genius, Mallory. Truly a genius.”
“I’m not following. What’s so smart about it?” I asked.
“Do you really think the NWA will miss an event like this?” Mallory asked, and my eyes went wide. “If they really are trying to smear your campaign, and I wouldn’t put it past them, they won’t skip an opportunity to make you look even worse.”
“And they might send Damon,” I whispered. “But how are we going to make sure they do and get him alone so I can talk to him?”
“Easy, you offer him an interview — an exclusive one,” Mallory said.
“That’s perfect! You know, I really don’t pay you enough,” I said.
“You don’t pay me at all, remember?” Mallory asked, smirking.
“Right. So remind me why you stick around again?”
“It’s fun to watch you flail,” she said and hugged me while I laughed.
“Should I call the higher-ups at Channel 666 to let them know you’re giving a statement tomorrow?” Beau asked.
“That’s a great idea,” Raina said. “The more people who know about this, the better. We have to get out in front of it and control the narrative before it controls us.”
“See, what did I tell ya? It ain’t over till it’s over,” Grandma said. “We’re a team, so if your ship goes down, I reckon we’re all goin’ right on down with it. Now come on, let’s get you home and rested. You’ve got an even bigger day ahead of you tomorrow.”
“You’re innocent until proven guilty,” Flora said, smiling. “I’ll let the Messenger know about the conference, too.”
“Don’t worry about the details, Zoe. Mallory and I will arrange everything, just try to relax,” Raina said.
“Right, relax, forget about an accusation of murder. Easy.” I sighed as Beau slipped his arm into mine.
“Let me walk you and Elle home. I don’t feel comfortable with you being alone,” Beau said, and I didn’t dare say no. If someone would go to such lengths to wreck my campaign, I didn’t want to guess what else they might try.
Chapter Five
The chatter from the crowd outside seeped through the thick stone walls of the Moon Grove town hall, and though I tried not to think about how many people were there, I couldn’t.
“Zoe? Did you hear what I just said?” Mallory asked, peering at me through her glasses and waving a hand in front of my face. Grandma frowned and exchanged a worried look with Mallory.
“Sorry, I zoned out for a sec,” I sighed. The voices outside were distracting — anyone would’ve struggled to stay focused when nothing but stone walls separated them from an angry mob.
“It’s okay, I understand. Better you get it out of your system now,” Mallory said.
“Thanks. What did you say?”
“I asked if you were feeling good about this, but I think I know the answer to that question,” Mallory said.
“It’s just that I know that no matter what I say, the reporters out there will tear me limb from limb, and I don’t blame them. If it were me covering a candidate in this situation, I’d do the same thing.”
“True, but fixating on that isn’t helping you feel any better. You need to focus on delivering the message in the best way you can,” Mallory said.
“She’s right, Sugar,” Grandma said, resting her hand on mine. It was a small gesture, but it was exactly what I needed to pull me out of my head and into reality. I couldn’t afford to space out when I got in front of the cameras, I had to sell it if I wanted them to believe me.
“I know, I’m sorry. Let’s go over the lines one more time,” I said, and Mallory smiled at me. The statement wasn’t long, just short of an entire printed page, but I hoped it would at least corral the ring of fire closing in around me and my campaign.
We ran through the speech in less than five minutes, just as we’d planned. I’d known for months that Mallory was an incredible researcher, but I’d never seen her skills in writing shine as brightly as they did in the statement she’d written for me.
“I know I’ve been saying this a lot lately, but I want to say it again: I really couldn’t be doing this wi
thout you, Mallory,” I said. She beamed at me and threw her arms around my neck.
“You’re the closest thing I have to a real friend, why wouldn’t I do this for you?” she asked.
“Wait a second, are you saying we aren’t really friends?”
“I mean, we never made it official, did we?” she asked.
“I didn’t think we needed to; wasn’t it implied?”
“Oh, Lord have mercy, of course y’all are friends,” Grandma said, waving our nonsense away. “Stay focused, y’all. Now ain’t the time to be jokin’ around.”
“Sorry. Okay, Zoe, if you remember nothing else when you get out there, take this with you: whatever you do, mention nothing about being framed or set up,” Mallory said. “That’s what they want you to say so they can box you in. Strongly deny the allegations, reaffirm your commitment to Moon Grove and your campaign, condemn the attack on Lydia in no uncertain terms, and call it a day.”
“And don’t forget, you ain’t gonna up there alone. You got a dog pile of friends out in the crowd,” Grandma said. “I already seen Beau out there with his assistant, and the Messenger staff is too.”
I nodded my agreement and shook my hands to fling off the nervousness.
“Oh, and if you see Damon, play it cool. He never responded to our offer for an interview, but that doesn’t mean he won’t show up, and we don’t want to seem overeager,” Mallory said.
“Got it. Why are you telling me all this, anyway? Isn’t this Raina’s job? Where is she?” I asked. It seemed more than a little odd to me that my campaign manager wouldn’t be present for a monumental moment like this.
“She’s around here somewhere. I think she’s talkin’ with Mr. Highmore,” Grandma said.
My ears perked up at that. What could she need to talk to the Head Warlock about without me? Were the two of them cooking something up to help clear my name? Prior to my announcement I was running for Head Witch, Heath promised he’d do everything he could to help me get elected — maybe Raina was cashing in on that favor.
“You look pale, Sugar. You should have a swig of water before you go out there,” Grandma said as she forced a paper cup into my hand. I didn’t know where she’d gotten it, but I was thankful and sucked it down in a few gulps, anyway.