A Witch to Remember

by Heather Blake

  “Well, you know you have at least one steady customer.” I looked over at Sylar. He dabbed at his forehead with a napkin and kept glancing at the door. “Do you know if Sylar is waiting for someone?”

  “I’m not sure,” she said. “But I am. A catering appointment.” She glanced at her watch. “Who’s now five minutes late.”

  As the scent of coffee rose enticingly, my gaze lingered on her mug. It took all my effort not to lean over to breathe in the steam.

  “Would you like a cup of coffee, Darcy? I can get you one.”

  “No—no thanks,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s just …”

  Her eyebrows dipped low. “What?”

  “I’m trying to cut back on coffee is all. Loving coffee makes that really difficult.”

  She laughed. “I can’t even imagine. I drink five or six cups a day.”

  “No need to rub it in,” I joked.

  She slid her mug away from me. “I’ll just remove temptation.”

  “I take it Feif hasn’t shown up here again today?”

  She shook her head. “Not that I’ve seen. You haven’t found him yet?”

  As the blender whirred in the background, I said, “He seems to have vanished this morning.”

  “On the run? That doesn’t seem like the behavior of an innocent man, does it? Oh, there’s my appointment.” She set her mug behind the counter and signaled to Ula that she was heading to her office. “I’ll see you later, Darcy. I’ll let you know if I see Feif.”

  As she rushed off, I looked down the bar top at Sylar, who was still dabbing his face with a napkin. Sweating profusely at the sight of me didn’t seem like the behavior of an innocent man, either.

  I headed his way, and the closer I got, the more he perspired. I sat on the empty barstool next to his. “Hi, Sylar.”

  “Darcy.” He nodded, fidgeting on the stool.

  Ula slid my shake in front of me, and I thanked her. I took a sip, nearly moaned at how good it tasted, and then said to him, “How’re you doing?”

  “As long as Dorothy’s locked away, I’m fine.” He kept dabbing his forehead and cheeks, his actions belying his words. “She’s not getting out early, is she?”

  Not unless she broke out. It was a thought that almost caused me to start sweating as badly as Sylar. I wrapped my hands around the cold drink, and suddenly realized Ula had put it in a glass and not a to-go cup. She was busy with another customer, so I let it go for now. “No,” I said to him. “She’s not getting out early.”

  Hopefully I sounded more confident than I felt.

  “Good, good,” he said, more to himself than me. “That gives me some time.”

  “Time for what?”

  “To get out of town.”

  “I knew you wanted to leave, but so soon?” I asked.

  “As quickly as I can.” He looked toward the door. “I’m waiting for Noelle Quinlan. She’s meeting me about selling my house. She assures me it’ll sell quickly.”

  No doubt about that—unless Dorothy burned it to the ground first.

  As troubling as that thought was, I couldn’t shake what Vince had said about the possibility of Dorothy being poisoned. Then something Sylar had said the other day came back to me.

  I should have seen it coming, with the way she was talking crazy on Friday night. I found her up in the damn tree again.

  What if she had gone there not only to spy on him—but to confront him? Had she suspected he’d been the one poisoning her? It was an easy leap to make—I’d done it myself a few moments ago.

  I pushed the glass back and forth between my palms. “You said you spoke to Dorothy Friday night …”

  Dab, dab. “Yes?”

  “Behind your shop, right?”

  “Yes? What’s this about, Darcy?”

  “You said she was talking crazy. Did she happen to say anything to you about poison?”

  His eyes flew open, his cheeks reddened, and he started dabbing at his forehead more vigorously.

  “Sylar?” I pressed. “Did she say anything about someone poisoning her?”

  He opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, a loud voice filled with irritation came from behind us. “You’ve wasted my time. You need to leave. Now.”

  Sylar and I swiveled on our stools. Stef was pointing a woman toward the front door.

  I almost fell off my seat. “Carolyn?”

  Carolyn Honeycutt looked my way and frowned deeply.

  I looked at Stef’s angry face and knew I had to find out what their meeting had been about. “What’s going on?”

  Stef said, “You know her, Darcy?”

  “She works with the festival.” I held Carolyn’s gaze. “And I have a few more questions for you.”

  “More? How is that possible?” she asked.

  “Darcy?” someone called out. “Your order’s up.”

  I glanced at the other end of the bar and saw Joelle, the hostess, with a paper bag in her hand.

  “Hold that thought. I’ll be right back,” I said to Carolyn.

  I wanted to ask her what she knew of Kindred Tours. It seemed an important part of the puzzle, and I was grateful to Pepe and Mrs. P for tracking down that particular clue. And I wanted to know why Carolyn had made an appointment to talk with Stef.

  Trying to keep an eye on Carolyn, I quickly paid for the order. She was digging in her purse while holding what looked to be a deep conversation with Sylar. A fuming Stef watched them both from behind the bar.

  As I signed the credit card receipt, I glanced back at the trio.

  Carolyn was gone.

  Of course she was.

  “Where’d she go?” I called out.

  “Just left,” Stef said, pointing over my shoulder.

  I turned in time to see Carolyn barreling out the front door. I abandoned the lunch sack on the bar top and quickly went after her, nearly knocking over a busboy in the process. The sunshine practically blinded me as I ran outside. Shading my eyes with my hand, I scanned all directions, but didn’t see any hint of her, and suspected she’d made a run for the Enchanted Trail, behind the restaurant. She had too much of a head start on me for me to track her easily, and I was forced to give in to the fact that she had slipped away.

  For now.

  Pivoting, I marched back inside, gathered the to-go bag and the shreds of my patience where this case was concerned, and sat myself down next to Sylar again.

  “Who was she?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

  “Carolyn Honeycutt,” I said at the same time Stef answered, “A phony.”

  He raised a glass. “To the phony Carolyn, who just very generously paid my tab.”

  I frowned at him. “Why would she do that?”

  “Said she knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of your questions and told me to drink up for fortification.”

  “Well, isn’t she just the sweetest,” I said sarcastically.

  Sylar waved at someone over my shoulder, and I turned and saw Noelle Quinlan speaking with Joelle at the hostess station.

  “Darcy, Stef,” he said with a stiff salute and hurried away. He said something to Noelle, she nodded, and they strode out of the restaurant without looking back.

  “Is that Carolyn woman involved with Feif?” Stef asked, her arms crossed over her chest. “She made a phony catering appointment just to grill me about him.”

  How had Carolyn even connected Stef to Feif? “It’s complicated,” I said. My phone buzzed. It was a text from Nick—he was waiting for me on the village green. “Could I please get a to-go cup for this shake, Stef? I need to get going.” I handed her my glass.

  She turned for a paper cup, and over her shoulder, she said, “It’s strange is what it is. The sooner all these psychics get out of the village, the better.”

  As I said my goodbyes and headed for the green to meet up with Nick, I realized two things. One, I never had gotten that answer from Sylar about Dorothy regarding the mention of poison.

  And, two, I
was in full agreement with Stef.

  In fact, I wished the psychics had never come in the first place.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Sorry I’m late,” I said as I hurried up to the picnic table. I gave Nick a kiss and handed him the bag. “If you don’t have anything pressing after lunch, you might want to track down Sylar to ask a few questions.”

  “Like?”

  “Like, did he poison Dorothy?”

  Nick’s eyes flew open wide, and the dappled sunlight brightened his dark-brown irises. “Poison?”

  I quickly filled him in as he unpacked the bag from the Stove, placing all the goods onto the scarred wooden table.

  He frowned at the contents he’d laid out. “Are fries and a shake really the only things you’re going to have for lunch?”

  “You know my stomach’s been a mess,” I said. “They’re the only things that sounded good.” I didn’t mention how the combo of garlic fries and chocolate torte had also sounded amazing for a brief moment, because I’d come to my senses where that pairing was concerned.

  The sea breeze picked up as he pulled me into a hug, held me close. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to.

  I wrapped my arms around him and rested my head on his chest. “Longest week ever.”

  “It’s only Monday,” he said, and I could feel his lips curve against my temple as he smiled.

  “Exactly. But after tomorrow …”

  He gave me a kiss. “After tomorrow …,” he echoed with a nod.

  We sat down, and I said, “In addition to Sylar, Carolyn Honeycutt was also at the Stove. She wanted to talk to Stef about Feif. I can’t quite figure out how she knows about Stef’s connection to this case.”

  “Your guess is as good as mine. If she’s looking for Feif as well, she’s probably following the same bread crumbs we are.”

  It was yet another question to ask Carolyn when I saw her next.

  The canopy of an oak tree cast the picnic table in shadows, and I was grateful festival scents were blowing downwind. “Any signs of Feif on your end?”

  Nick unwrapped a chicken sandwich and said, “No, he’s still MIA.”

  I jabbed a straw against the picnic table, freeing it from its wrapping. I stuck it into the tall paper cup and took a sip of the shake. I winced, the sweetness overwhelming.

  “Something wrong?” Nick asked.

  “My taste buds are apparently in full revolt. This tasted just fine ten minutes ago, but now it’s too sweet.”

  He pulled it over and took a sip. “It’s sweet, but not overly so.”

  “That’s because your taste buds aren’t in cahoots with your topsy-turvy stomach. I’ll trade my shake for a bite of your sandwich.”

  With a smile, he handed me the whole sandwich and unwrapped his second one. As we ate, I explained the conversations I’d had with Carolyn, Stef, and Vince today.

  “I’ve been thinking about what you said about Dorothy being poisoned,” Nick said. “We might not need to test the hair Amanda has. I’ll make some calls to have labs drawn on Dorothy. If she’d been systemically poisoned, it’s bound to show up in her blood, one way or another.”

  Talking about poison must have made him lose his appetite, because he didn’t finish his sandwich or fries. He dumped the remnants back into the sack and balled it up.

  “Can Dorothy refuse testing?” I asked, thinking about her hands-off approach with Dennis Goodwin.

  “Unfortunately, yes, but why would she? If she’s been poisoned, it only helps her case. Her lawyer will support consent, I’m sure. If not, we get a court order.”

  He dumped the trash, including the half-full shake, which was apparently too sweet even for him. We crossed the street, headed for home to wash up and check on Higgins before getting back to work.

  “Will positive labs get her released sooner?” I asked as we walked up the driveway.

  “No,” he said. “That’s not going to change, one way or another. She’ll just start receiving any necessary medical treatments while she’s on hold.”

  That was good news, and while I didn’t want to think about her escaping the psych ward, I thought it best to warn Nick.

  As he unlocked the mudroom door, he said, “Unfortunately, I don’t have the authority to allocate security at the hospital. We’ll just have to hope Dorothy doesn’t have the kind of powers she needs to escape.”

  Hoping, I feared, wasn’t going to cut it in this case.

  Rage and hatred.

  She’d been kicked off the Coven, reprimanded, her powers suspended. She had everything riding on her agenda to take over the Eldership, which would be considered only if Harper declined the role.

  Dorothy had a lot at stake tomorrow night, and my gut instinct told me she wasn’t going to miss that ceremony. And if the Elder was renewed, I had the feeling Dorothy wasn’t going to take that news well, either. In fact, all hell was probably going to break loose.

  I took a deep breath before I freaked out. Precautions, my mother had said. No one knew what she was up against more than the Elder. I needed to keep faith that any trouble Dorothy might cause would be squelched quickly.

  Nick went upstairs, and as I let Higgins out I wished with all my might that my mother would show up just so I could give her another hug, but I didn’t see any sign of a mourning dove outside. There was only Higgins, who was licking the patio door. Drool slid down the pane.

  My phone buzzed, pulling me away from the door. It was Glinda, ready to start the search for Feif once again. I told her I’d meet her in front of Spellbound in ten minutes. Hopefully we’d come across Carolyn as well.

  I let Higgins inside, gave him a cookie, washed up in the downstairs powder room, and then went to the foot of the stairs. “Nick?”

  Annie came slinking down the steps, stretching her paws out with each step. I picked her up and scratched under her chin.

  A moment later, Nick slowly came down the steps, holding his stomach. I set Annie down. “What’s wrong?”

  “My stomach … I’m a little queasy.”

  I knew queasy. This wasn’t it. His face had lost all color, his hair was damp with sweat, and he was breathing rapidly. I shook my head. “It’s probably food poisoning. Honestly, I don’t know why we eat at the Stove with their history of food gone wrong.”

  Even as I said it, my stomach started acting up more than usual. Sympathy nausea, I told myself.

  He abruptly bolted for the powder room. I paced the hallway, wincing every time he was sick. When he finally opened the door, I said, “We need to get you to a doctor.”

  “No,” Nick said, leaning against the wall. “I’ll be okay.”

  But his actions defied his words. He spun, ran back into the bathroom, and slammed the door.

  I was going to get sick myself if I kept listening, so I opened the front door and stepped outside for fresh air, gulping it in like I’d been oxygen deprived.

  “Darcy?” Cherise leaned over the fence, a sun hat shading her face. “Is something wrong?”

  I took one look at the kindness in her eyes and burst into tears.

  Next thing I knew, she was hugging me, and I was babbling every last secret I had.

  “Come, come,” she said, leading me back into the house. “Let’s have a look at Nick and then we’ll deal with the rest.”

  Nick stumbled out of the bathroom as we walked back inside. Higgins was going round in circles, crying.

  “I don’t—” Nick took a look at us, then fell to his knees.

  “Nick!” I cried, running to catch him before he fell forward onto his face.

  Higgins laid down next to Nick and put his head on his foot. He kept whimpering.

  Cherise was already rubbing her hands together. “Darcy, Dennis is next door. Go get him. Now.”

  I wanted to argue that I needed to stay with Nick, but when I saw her grim expression I took off running. Terry must have seen me coming, because he already had the door open as I raced up the steps. “Dennis,” I gas
ped.

  Dennis, who stood behind his father, took one look at my face and followed without argument.

  It couldn’t have taken more than a minute before we were back in my foyer. Cherise had her hands on Nick’s chest, just below his collarbone.

  Cherise said, “I’ve called an ambulance.”

  Dennis dropped down next to her. “Heart attack?”

  “Food poisoning,” I said, kneeling down and taking hold of Nick’s hand. It was cold and clammy. “It came on so fast.”

  Cherise shook her head. “No, dear. Not food poisoning. Just poison. Antifreeze, if my abilities to detect what’s in his system are correct, and they always are. What has he ingested lately?”

  Oh, god. I’d worked another case once where antifreeze had killed a woman. My heart pounded. “Lunch. A chicken sandwich. Some fries. What he didn’t finish is in the trash can right across the street, near the picnic table under the oak tree.”

  Dennis ran out the front door.

  I met Cherise’s gaze. “Is Nick going to be okay?”

  She said, “I’ve counteracted most of the toxin. He’ll need fluids, though, so it’s best he take a trip to the hospital. He’ll be fine soon enough.”

  I exhaled. “You’re sure?”

  She nodded. “It’s good you saw me when you did, or this would have been a vastly different outcome. I’ll clean up and meet you at the emergency room.”

  My eyes blurred with tears as Nick squeezed my hand.

  Not a minute later, Dennis came running back up the steps with the empty paper cup that had once held the banana shake. “The poison was in here. I can smell it. Most of the contents leaked into the trash, but there’s still enough remaining to test for evidence. And the squad’s on the way down the street,” Dennis added, right as the ambulance pulled up in front of the house.

  The EMS team rushed inside, and I spotted a police car pull up behind the ambulance.

  “You’ll come with us?” I asked Dennis as the emergency team worked on Nick.

  Dennis nodded. “I’ll be right behind you.”

  I watched with tears in my eyes as Nick was loaded into the ambulance, and I was shaking as I got in behind him.

  It wasn’t until we were out of the village and well on our way to the hospital that reality truly hit me. Someone had poisoned the milk shake.