Broomsticks and Burials

by Lily Webb

  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear there was something about this you didn’t want me to know,” I said.

  “Wrong. I’m trying to keep you out of legal trouble and, more importantly, alive,” Mitch said. “The last thing I need on my record as editor of this paper is two dead reporters.”

  “Which is exactly why we need to help usher the police along,” I said.

  “Zoe, are you even listening to me? Drop it. Whatever you think you know, whatever leads you think you’re chasing, let them go. Keep your head down and do your job,” Mitch said.

  “Fine,” I sighed, throwing my hands up in the air. What else could I say? Clearly, Mitch didn’t want to hear any of it.

  “I’m serious, Zoe. I’d better not ever get another call from the police about you,” Mitch said.

  “Are we done here? As you reminded me, I have a job to do, and this meeting has already put me behind,” I said. Mitch gave me a dark look and nodded.

  I threw the door open and didn’t bother closing it. If I couldn’t work on the story directly for fear of Mitch finding out, I’d just have to be more surreptitious about it, and the only person at the Messenger I trusted enough for help was Flora.

  She grimaced at me when I reached her desk.

  “So? How much trouble are you in with the boss?” she asked.

  “Oh, you know, just your regular ‘why are the police calling me about you?’ sort of thing,” I said. Flora blanched.

  “What?” She asked.

  “Long story short, I wasn’t with Beau all night Saturday. I paid a visit to the cemetery,” I said.

  “Zoe, that’s an active crime scene,” Flora breathed. “Are you trying to get yourself in trouble?”

  “No, but it seems trouble has a way of finding me no matter where I go,” I said. “Anyway, I need your help with something.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that.”

  “It’s nothing risqué. Say I wanted to look up someone’s personal history. Where could I go to do that?” I asked.

  “The Internet, most likely,” Flora said.

  “Okay, but where specifically? Does Moon Grove have public records online anywhere?” I asked.

  “What exactly are you looking for?”

  “I’m trying to trace someone’s family tree,” I said.

  “Who’s? And why?”

  “Opal Cromwell for, uh, reasons,” I said. Flora sighed and shook her head at me.

  “There you go again. Zoe, you just got chewed out by Mitch for this. You really don’t take no for an answer, do you?”

  “Nope, and I’m not taking it from you either,” I said.

  “Fine. I’ll help you find what you need, but you have to tell me why you want to know first,” Flora said.

  I sat down on the corner of her desk and looked over my shoulder. Mitch stood leaning against his office door scowling at me. I resisted the urge to stick my tongue out at him, the jerk.

  “I ran into Valentine in the cemetery Saturday night,” I whispered. Flora’s eyes went wide.

  “Yikes,” she said.

  “Yeah, pretty much. Anyway, he suggested Opal might be hiding something about her history and I want to know what it is,” I said.

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know, he didn’t say. It seems like everyone in this town is incapable of telling me things directly,” I said, and Flora chuckled. “Wait, you’re like seven-hundred years old, why don’t you know everything about everyone here?”

  “Moon Grove isn’t that old, Zoe, and I haven’t been here my entire life,” Flora said as she reached for her phone on her desk.

  “Fair enough. What are you doing?”

  “Looking Opal up on Parapedia,” Flora said.

  “Why not use your computer?”

  “Are you kidding? Mitch can see any and everything we do on these machines,” Flora said.

  “Smart,” I said. “What’s Parapedia?”

  “It’s a site that has history on everyone and everything in town, but it’s editable by anyone, so you have to take what you read with a grain of salt,” Flora said.

  “Oh, so it’s like Wikipedia.”

  “What’s that?” Flora asked.

  “Never mind. Anyway, what do you see?” I asked, leaning over to look at her phone’s screen.

  “Nothing too interesting so far. Wait, what’s this?” Flora asked, pausing to zoom in on something. After a few moments, she looked up at me with wide eyes.

  “What? What is it?”

  “It’s vague, but this article says it’s unclear who Opal’s father is,” Flora said.

  “What? Seriously? Lemme see,” I said. Flora handed me the phone, and my eyes flew over the article. One sentence, in particular, caught my attention:

  “According to official documents, Opal Cromwell was born in 1956 to Pearl and Balder Cromwell, though these records are disputed due to rumors of Pearl’s alleged affair with another warlock.”

  The realization hit me like a speeding broomstick.

  “Flora, this is it! When I talked to her a few days ago, she mentioned some rumors suggesting she wasn’t who she said she was. This is what she’s trying to hide!” I said. “It all makes sense. She’s working with the vampires to help her cover it up.”

  “Hold on, Zoe. Like I said, these articles are editable by anyone. This could be the work of someone who isn’t a fan of Opal trying to smear her,” Flora said.

  “True, but it still adds up. We need proof. We need to see those documents,” I said.

  “How?”

  “Would the police have them?” I asked.

  “Maybe. I mean, I assume they’d have records of some sort on Opal since she’s on the Council and running for Head Witch. From a security perspective, they’d almost have to have something,” Flora said. I looked at her with a smile.

  “I don’t like that look,” Flora said. “What are you scheming?”

  “Do you think your friend Ewan might be able to help us get access?” I asked. Flora groaned.

  “I’m not sure that’s appropriate, much less legal,” she said.

  “Neither is murdering a reporter, but hey, here we are,” I said.

  “Zoe, I haven’t talked to Ewan much at all in the last year, I don’t think—”

  “I know, but please, Flora. This is the most solid lead we’ve found so far, and if Ewan knew he could do something to help figure out what happened to Harper, he’d want to,” I said. Flora sighed.

  “Okay, you’re right. I’ll call him when I get home, but I can’t promise anything,” Flora said.

  “Thank you, Flora. I’d hug you, but somehow I don’t think that would put good ideas in Mitch’s head,” I said, glancing over my shoulder again. He wasn’t there, thank goodness.

  “Probably not. What are you going to do in the meantime?”

  “I’m going to talk to Opal, see if I can’t shake some info loose from her family tree,” I said. Opal did tell me her door was always open for me, and I intended to take advantage of it.

  “Good luck. I’ve heard it’s hard to get anything useful out of her,” Flora said.

  “We’ll see about that,” I said. I winked at Flora and stood to make my way to the door before Mitch had the chance to stop me.

  The Town Hall’s main chamber was quiet when I arrived a few minutes later, which wasn’t a total surprise given it was a Monday. As if she’d been waiting for me, Lena’s smiling face appeared a few seconds after I’d entered. Khalvorr, the gargoyle that gave me the pat down the last time, was still posted outside Opal’s office.

  “Hi, Zoe, how are you?” she asked.

  “Doing well, thanks. You?”

  “Busy and stressed this close to the election. Only one more week to go! But other than that, I can’t complain. Can I help you with something?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I’d actually like to talk to Councilwoman Cromwell for a quick minute if she’s available,” I said. Lena frowned.

  “I do
n’t know about that. She’s been so busy in her office today that I haven’t seen her come out once,” Lena said. “Though she did tell me not to disturb her if at all possible.”

  “All I need is five minutes, tops,” I said. Lena chewed her lip but eventually shrugged.

  “Okay, let me check with her and see,” Lena said and shuffled down the long hallway to Opal’s office door. She knocked three times.

  “Councilwoman? Zoe Clarke is here and would like to speak to you. She says she only needs five minutes,” Lena said. Moments passed, and no answer came, or at least not one I could hear. Lena knocked again, louder this time.

  “Councilwoman?” Lena shouted. The gargoyle by her door growled. “Councilwoman, are you there?”

  “Maybe she snuck a trip to the restroom?” I suggested.

  “I don’t think so. I would’ve seen her,” Lena said. She knocked again and waited but still nothing. “I’m sorry about this. Let me check on her, she might’ve fallen asleep from all this work,” Lena laughed.

  “Sure thing, I’ll wait,” I said, shrugging. Lena turned the doorknob, pushed the door open, and stood rooted to the spot for a few moments before she let out a blood-curdling scream.

  “Councilwoman!” she shouted, one hand clapped over her mouth. The gargoyle shoved past Lena into Opal’s office, slamming the door behind him, and I ran to Lena’s side.

  “What is it? What happened?”

  “She’s dead. She was sitting behind her desk and her tea, it was spilled all over her robes and…” Lena trailed off, tears sparkling in the corners of her eyes. “How did this happen?!”

  “Stay here. I’m going to get the police,” I said.

  “Zoe, I-I swear, I didn’t know, I had no idea, I—”

  “It’s okay, Lena. I believe you. Just stay here and try to keep calm,” I said. “Can you do that?” Lena nodded, despite the tears streaming down her face.

  I ran out of the Town Hall and up Luna Street to the police station where I burst through the glass doors in a huff to find a bewildered Ewan with his feet on his desk and Chief Mueller looking less-than-enthused to see me. The feeling was mutual.

  “Come to apologize already?” Mueller grumbled.

  “No, it’s Opal Cromwell. She’s dead,” I heaved, my hands on my knees as I tried to catch my breath.

  “What?”

  “You heard me, the Councilwoman is dead!” I screamed. Mueller charged out from behind the front desk and stopped inches away from me.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. I was just at Town Hall to interview her, and when her assistant, Lena, went to ask if the Councilwoman would see me, she found her dead in her office,” I said. “I ran over here as fast as I could.”

  “Barrett, move. Now!” Mueller barked but didn’t wait for Ewan to stand before he rocketed out of the station. I stood in a daze as Ewan scrambled to gather his things.

  “Stay here. We’ll need to question you,” Ewan said. His hand was on my shoulder, but I hadn’t felt it until I heard his voice. I nodded, and he ran out after Mueller, leaving me alone in the station. A row of plastic chairs lined the nearest wall, and I sank down into one of them as my heart slipped into my stomach.

  I couldn’t believe it. Opal Cromwell was dead — and so was my lead.

  Hours later, Mueller and Ewan returned with Lena and Khalvorr in tow, all of them looking grim. I still hadn’t left my chair.

  “Zoe, we need to ask you some questions,” Ewan said, motioning for me to follow him to his desk.

  I barely registered his words, but my subconscious must’ve understood because I forced myself out of the chair and shuffled over to him on autopilot. Mueller led Lena and Khalvorr away to another room.

  “Have a seat,” he said, motioning to the empty chair across from his. I did, only because I was afraid I might float away if I didn’t have something firm to hold. Two people were dead now, one of them was a candidate for Head Witch, and I couldn’t shake the feeling it was my fault.

  Ewan pulled a spiral-bound pad from the drawer in his desk and cleared his throat.

  “Did you see or hear anything suspicious on your way to Town Hall today?”

  “No. Nothing,” I said.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure. I was in a hurry to talk to Councilwoman Cromwell for a story, I wasn’t paying much attention,” I said.

  “I understand. Did you notice anything suspicious while you were inside Town Hall?”

  “No, not really. It looked the same as it always has, though it was quieter than usual,” I said.

  “I see. The Councilwoman’s assistant told us you’ve spoken with the candidate before. Based on your talks, do you think there could be anyone who might’ve wanted to harm the Councilwoman?”

  “No. I mean, I don’t know much about her or her ties,” I said. “Ewan, what happened?”

  “I can’t discuss details, Zoe. I’m sorry,” he said.

  “She was poisoned, wasn’t she?”

  Ewan didn’t say anything, but the dark look on his face as he leaned back in his chair told me everything. Against my better judgment, I focused on his eyes and jumped into his thoughts.

  This should never have happened. It wouldn’t have happened if the gargoyles kept watch over Opal’s office when she wasn’t there, he thought.

  “Are there any details, anything at all, you think we should know about the Councilwoman?” Ewan asked, snapping me out of his thoughts. “Anything she might’ve told you that would be of interest?”

  “Honestly, no,” I said. “It was all by-the-books election conversation. Do you have any idea who might’ve done it?”

  “I told you, Zoe, I can’t comment,” Ewan said. “Believe me, I want to, but I can’t.”

  “That’s okay, I get it.”

  “Maybe you should take the rest of the day off. I’m sure your boss will understand,” Ewan suggested. It wasn’t a bad idea.

  “So I’m free to go? What about Lena and Khalvorr?”

  “We still have more questions to ask them,” Ewan said. “Call me if you think of anything, Zoe. Any help is appreciated.”

  “I will. Thanks, Ewan,” I said and shuffled out of the station back to the Messenger as numb as a zombie.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Mitch sent the entire staff home early that afternoon. Flora walked me to our place and tried to talk some comfort into me, but I was barely aware of any of it. She even brewed me some sleep-aiding tea and tucked me in on the couch with Luna, but it wasn’t enough to calm my mind.

  As lifeless as I felt physically, my head was alight with anxious energy. I couldn’t shake the urge to do something, anything, to try to make sense of what happened — because it was at least partially my fault.

  No matter how many times I said it, in my head or aloud, it never got easier to accept: Opal Cromwell was dead.

  What if it was all because I wouldn’t stop chasing Harper’s story? If I’d just listened to Mitch and backed off from the beginning, would Opal still be alive? More than that, would Moon Grove be okay in the aftermath? It wasn’t often that a candidate for Head Witch was killed — and on the heels of a journalist’s murder, no less.

  Not even the dry history of The Origins of Witchcraft could take my mind off things or put me to sleep, which was what I knew I needed. Even if only for a couple hours, I had to switch my brain off, forget about everything, and try not to drown in guilt.

  Instead, I laid on Flora’s couch wrapped up in a blanket with Luna curled in my lap, and stared at the clock as it ticked on slower than I ever thought possible.

  I couldn’t wait to see Raina again. There were so many questions I needed to ask her, and I hoped she’d have answers because if she didn’t, who else could I ask?

  “Hey, how are you feeling?” Flora called from her bedroom door just before sunset, a mug of tea in her hands. Luna groaned as I rose.

  “Flat. That’s the best way I can describe it,” I said. Flora frowned and
came to sit down on the couch beside me. She rubbed my knee.

  “I understand. Listen, I know what you’re probably thinking. This isn’t your fault, Zoe,” Luna said. I laughed and shook my head.

  “That’s exactly what I needed to hear, but I still can’t believe it,” I said. “Why couldn’t I just listen to Mitch?”

  “If you spent your life doing what other people said, you wouldn’t be Zoe Clarke,” Flora said, smiling. “I know it’s hard, but try not to beat up on yourself.”

  “What am I going to do, Flora? I feel helpless,” I said. “What if everyone here blames me too and Mitch fires me, and then I get thrown out—”

  “Relax, Zoe. You’re spiraling. Don’t do that,” Flora said.

  “That’s easy for you to say.”

  “Stay focused on what you can do. You have another lesson with Raina soon, right?” Flora asked.

  “Yeah, in about fifteen minutes, and it can’t come soon enough.”

  “Good. That’ll help. You’d better start getting ready.”

  Luna hopped out of my lap to the floor to stretch.

  “Flora’s right,” Luna said. “There’s a good chance Opal might’ve gotten caught in the web without you stirring the pot. Besides, if you hadn’t, we wouldn’t know any of this. We can still figure out what happened to both Harper and Opal.”

  “I owe them that much,” I said as I stretched my arms toward the ceiling. “Thank you both.”

  “What good are friends and talking cats if we can’t help you work through things?” Flora asked. I laughed and gave her a hug, careful not to touch her wings.

  “I’m happy we’re friends,” I said.

  “Me too, Zoe,” Flora said. “Now get going. Don’t let this stop you. If anything, it should make you want to work harder.”

  “You’re right. Thanks, Flora,” I said as I stood and straightened my clothes and hair to make sure I didn’t look like a complete emotional wreck.

  “Anytime.”

  The cool evening air brought me somewhat back to life when I stepped outside and headed across town to Raina’s house. I knocked three times on her front door and was surprised when her sister, Circe, opened it. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying.