by Willow Mason
Other towns? But we’d only just set up shop together. My mind stuttered to a halt.
“Thinking of moving on, are you?” Jared put a hand on my back as he joined us. “Don’t blame you. After Auckland, this place can feel pretty cramped.”
“No, I—”
Pru walked inside and whatever Patrick had been about to say stopped. She did a double-take, then wandered over, waving hello to Jac on the way past. “Is this a private meeting or can anyone join?”
Jared’s hand dropped from my back and he gave her a welcome kiss on the cheek. “You took your time. How far away can you park when there are no other vehicles on the street?”
She blushed and glanced back over her shoulder. “I got caught up outside the realtor’s office. There’s a nice property there in my price range.”
“The bazillionaire options?”
“Don’t tease. I’m well-off not wealthy. I’d have to kill off a few more husbands to get into that price range.”
My eyes widened in shock at her banter and Pru suddenly appeared unsure. “That was just a joke,” she hastened to add, rubbing at her temple. “I’m not used to being in social situations. I need to relearn how not to put my foot in my mouth.”
“Sorry, that’s my bad. I’m used to seeing you…” My words dried up as my mind fumbled to think what it had been trying to say.
“Without a poltergeist screaming in the background?” Patrick suggested. “I take it your morning visitations are at an end.”
Pru nodded, her eyes glinting for a second before she tipped her head back and the threatening tears obeyed gravity. “It’s strange. I thought I’d miss him, but knowing the whole apparition was just accidental made it a lot easier to let Andrew go.”
“I’m glad.” Patrick pressed a hand to the side of her arm. “You deserve a fresh start.”
“Oh.” She opened her bag, pulling out a letter. “Solomon Armstrong sent me this. It’s an explanation of his actions and an apology.” Pru reread the words for a second, then stowed it away. “It seems heartfelt.”
“Did the police get in touch?”
She nodded to me. “Yes, but as I thought, they don’t have enough evidence to prosecute. The sergeant told me they could probably get the crown to press charges about the medication change, but even then…” She shrugged. “It’d be a lot of time and trouble and the likelihood with a first offence is he’d get away with community service.”
Patrick crossed his arms. “Which he deserves.”
“Yes, but…” Pru waved a hand in the air. “He didn’t intend any real harm. I think the sleepless nights since you visited him have probably worked well enough.”
“What about writing a letter back?” I jerked my chin at her bag. “Solomon lost a colleague he didn’t particularly like and got a job promotion. Maybe if he knew how Andrew’s loss affected your life, if he carried your grief on his conscience, it might lighten your load.”
Pru’s expression grew thoughtful and she pulled away from Jared. “Maybe. I’ll have to think about it.” She clapped her hands together. “But right now, what I want is to replace everything the poltergeist broke in my house.”
Jared huffed with amusement. “Two minutes ago, you were house hunting.”
“And what’s your point? You haven’t heard of boxes? They’re these amazing things that let you take objects from one home to another.”
“We must be getting on,” Patrick said to Wes as Jac came over. “It’s great to see you back where you belong.”
Wes threw an arm around Jac’s neck. “I have to keep checking you’re here.”
“If you want to double-check, how about pouring a nice hot beverage down my throat?”
“I guess that’s my cue,” Wes said, waggling his eyebrows. “You sure you won’t stay for a cuppa?”
“Yes,” I said as Patrick’s feet turned back towards the kitchenette. “We’re sure. There are a thousand and one tasks to fix up today, otherwise, we’ll be working all weekend.”
Jared shook his head and chuckled. “Working, she calls it.”
“Hey. Could the unemployed amongst us quit throwing stones? I’m doing my best.”
“Drop by later,” Patrick called as he shuffled me out the door. “We might have a job opening.”
“Might we?” I stared hard at him as we walked along the footpath. “What’s that about?”
A silence lengthened as his face twisted and pulled through a dozen different expressions. My hand closed into a fist as my nerves tightened. What had he said about working in other towns?
“Just… Perhaps it’s time we thought about expanding.” He pointed to the real estate office window, some of the signs for rental spaces yellowing with age. “An office in the centre of town would be great and…” His voice dropped low. “It’s been very kind of you to put me up at your house but it’s well past time I find a place of my own.”
“Oh.” I faced forward with my cheeks burning. “Seems a bit wasteful to get an office along here when we’re only a twenty-minute walk from home, anyway.”
“I thought you might want your privacy. It must be hard to live and work with somebody.”
Must it. I blinked hard and concentrated on my feet for the rest of the walk home.
On our arrival, we found Aunt Florentine sitting in the kitchen, an empty cup in front of her that indicated she’d been there a while. “I wanted to check in and see how things are going,” she said with a bright smile. “Paisley has been educating me on all the familiars living out back. It’s been quite a revelation.”
“I’ve love to know more as well,” I said, sitting down with a sigh as Patrick excused himself to the office. Annalisa raised her head from the prime position in the midday sunlight, then settled it back on her crossed paws. “Annalisa filled me in on some of it, but I’m embarrassed at my ignorance.”
I petted the cat; glad she was moving forward. “Is Wendy dropping by? I heard it’s a teachers-only morning at school.”
“Yes, she is,” the girl announced from the front door. “How’s my best princess doing?”
Wendy clapped her hands together. “That sounds lovely. It’ll be an adventure.”
Annalisa stirred at the suggestion, casting a worried glance towards the cupboards.
“Because some of us don’t know how to pace ourselves,” I said with a laugh, stroking her back. “There’s plenty of food in the deep freeze.”
“The butcher assures me it tastes the same, either way.”
“Fine,” I said with a wink to my aunt. “In that case, we’ll take them everything out of the freezer and we can buy you something fresh and juicy afterwards.”
“Ugh. Sounds appalling.” Genevieve stood in the doorway, rubbing a hand through her messy topknot. “I haven’t received an invoice for the last case. Does that mean it was a freebie?”
“No, it wasn’t,” Patrick said, appearing magically at her shoulder. “I’ve emailed it to you.”
“Who uses email these days?” The supreme rolled her eyes. “Can you keep an eye out for it?” she asked my aunt. “I’ve left my inbox alone for so long, I’m afraid to look.”
“How about I print you out a copy?” I offered.
“And kill a tree? We’re trying to be ecologically sustainable around here. Climate change targets apply to us as much as any other local body.”
I giggled at Patrick’s bemused expression. “Shall we just whisper the total to you, then?”
“Send me a request through whatever the latest payment app is. I’ve got them
all.”
My aunt tipped her head back and mouthed, “I’ll sort it.”
“Are you going to put the kettle on or what?” Genevieve strode across to the last empty chair. “I’m parched.”
“Really? I suppose I should tag along then.”
“Because it’s your job, you mean?” my aunt teased.
“Is it, though? Or is it something my assistant could handle?”
“We’ll all go,” Wendy declared. “Since so many of you don’t have familiars yet, you can adopt one and that’ll be the end of the problem.”
“Some of us are in mourning,” Genevieve snapped back, the jollity disappearing. She exchanged a glance with my aunt, then pressed a hand to her cheek. “Sorry, I didn’t…”
As I hefted the frozen goodies into a carry bag, Jared knocked on the door, apparently the only person left in town who remembered the ability. Pru stood behind him, adjusting and readjusting her horn-rimmed glasses.
“We’re about to go visiting,” I said, quickly explaining the mission. “You’re welcome to join.”
The talk died down as we got farther into the woods, our passage slowed by the riotous foliage spouting fresh twines and burgeoning branches in the late summer heat. As we neared the clearing that was home to the cast-offs, Genevieve clicked her fingers.
“I nearly forgot to say, I’ve commissioned Maribelle at the library to write a new history of Scarlett O’Malley.”
A trace of the ghost’s incredible sadness pulled at my chest for a second, then departed, leaving me breathless. “That sounds like a fantastic idea. I wish all history could be righted so easily.”
Jared pulled away from Pru to race ahead, then ducked back, smiling broadly. “It appears news of our arrival has preceded us.”
I frowned as we pulled into the clearing, then gasped at the array of familiars, all waiting for us. “Hello,” was the best I could manage, followed by a wave.
A squirrel, two possums, and a Pukeko were scattered among the more common cats and dogs that spread across the enclosure. As they introduced themselves and we passed out the contents of the carry bag—apologising for the hours of defrosting still to go—the familiars relaxed, chatting and talking over each other as they held us in rapt attention.
“This was a fantastic idea,” Wendy said, stroking Paisley while the cat basked in the sun. “If I want to become a peacekeeper, I hope you’ll stick around to help me.”
Genevieve frowned at the pair and I caught her inference. The mystery of the potion still weighed heavily on her mind. If the pairing was down to Paisley’s interference, then their bond turned from a triumph to a tragedy.
I was still musing about Wendy’s strong will and the unlikelihood a cat could bend it when Jared dropped down to do a roly-poly in a pile of sweet-smelling grass.
“Why not?” He ignored her shrill command and rolled back and forth again, laughing when Meep raced across to join him and enthusiastically licked his face.
Wendy stepped forward. “It’s where she dumped the potion when she decided not to use it on Violet.” The girl crossed her arms in defiance of the anticipated reprimand.
Jared sprang to his feet and jumped away. “Is it on me?” He twirled in a circle, staring over his shoulder. “Did I get it anywhere?”
He obliged, sending a few clinging blades of grass flying.
“Wait.” Genevieve held her hand up. “Since when did you communicate with your mind.”
“Eh?” Jared stared at her in confusion. “I’ve been able to hear the familiars since I was first bitten.”
“But you were talking back the same way.”
Jared stared at Meep.
The chihuahua shook his head.
Annalisa nudged the backs of my knees, chuckling with amusement.
“Stop laughing,” my aunt scolded the panther. “Jared, we can reverse this spell for you. Don’t worry.”
“Reverse what?” He held his arms wide open and Meep jumped into them, snuggling up against his neck.
Genevieve walked over and gave Meep’s belly a rub. “Werewolves don’t usually have familiars. I’m sure this is unorthodox for a reason.”
She held up her hands and backed away. “Just keep it in mind, that’s all.”
Patrick’s frown told me that once again he was missing out on half the conversation, so I quickly filled him in. “I wouldn’t mind a familiar, either. Talking to a pet in your head sounds like great fun.”
I relayed the message to Patrick, though he seemed to have understood most of it given the lizard was now ensconced in his shirt pocket.
“Perhaps there’s a spell in the library to make that work for you,” the supreme mused.
My aunt rolled her eyes. “Or we could just leave it as it is and let them find their own way to communicate with each other. That’s what normal humans do. Not everything has to be hocus-pocused to work.”
She put an arm around my shoulder, giving one quick press before she took it away. Jared had taken Meep over to be introduced to Pru and Aunt Florentine seemed amused at the spectacle. “Looks like your man overflow situation has worked itself out nicely.”
I frowned at her, not understanding, and she jerked her chin to where Pru and Jared were now talking, heads close together.
“Ooh, gross. She’s like double his age.”
“Yeah, but she’s also wealthy so that doesn’t matter.”
When my eyes widened with shock, Aunt Florentine laughed. “Just kidding but why would you try to put them in separate buckets when they belong in the same one?”
“Okay, your bucket analogy needs some work, but I’ll let it slide for now.”
“I meant the analogy not their friendship,” I grumpily retorted. The twinge in the back of my throat might have heralded otherwise, but I swallowed hard to make it disappear.
“If Pru’s buying a new house and they’re moving in together, I wonder if I could grab her old place,” Patrick suggested. He tickled Ferdinand under the chin. “What do you think?”
The question hadn’t been directed at me, but it didn’t stop me from answering. “I enjoy having you at the house. It’s great to be able to… you know.” I stared at the ground, surprised my head hadn’t exploded into flame given how hot my cheeks were. “Discuss cases and everything.”
Aunt Florentine glanced to the supreme and they both burst into laughter. “Sure. Discussing cases. Always the highlight of the day.”
Patrick gave them both the side-eye but, if anything, that just increased their enjoyment. “I like living there, too.”
My head bobbed up. “Then why are you insisting on moving out?”r />
“Jared suggested you might appreciate being on your own for a bit.”
Oh. Did he?
I chewed on my bottom lip, before shaking my head. “No. Not at all.”
About the Author
Willow Mason is the author of Witchy Paranormal Cozy Mysteries.
She lives in a small town in New Zealand, far too close to the beach and fantastic walking trails to get nearly as much work done as she should. Until someone bestows magic powers on her, she’ll just keep hoping for the invention of self-cleaning dishes and self-washing clothes.
www.willowmason.com
Also by Willow Mason
How to Stone a Crow (Witch Like a Boss)
How to Fly a Pig (Witch Like a Boss)
Owl or Nothing (A Very Shifty Mystery)
Pixie-lated (Newborn Pixie Cozy Mystery)
A Bone to Pixie (Newborn Pixie Cozy Mystery)
Pixie Me Up (Newborn Pixie Cozy Mystery)
Newborn Pixie Cozy Mysteries – Books 1-3
Selective Spells (Beezley and the Witch)
Vexatious Voodoo (Beezley and the Witch)
Muddled Mutt (Beezley and the Witch)
Beezley and the Witch: Books 1-3