A Witch to Remember

by Heather Blake

  “She does seem the type to fly off the handle,” Harper pointed out.

  “Are you all out of your minds?” Carolyn asked.

  “That remains to be seen,” Harper mumbled.

  I swatted at her. “Don’t make me send you back behind the shelves.”

  “Hmph,” Harper grunted.

  Carolyn said, “Feif wanted Leyna back for the money. I have enough money, thank you. I wanted Leyna back because I missed her. It’s that simple. I would have found a way to join her and Feif on tour one way or another—assistant, tour manager, something. I was disappointed when Leyna said no to the contract, but I wouldn’t have killed her over it. I eventually would have moved here to this village, maybe bought a shop or two.”

  “That’s not creepy at all,” Glinda said dryly.

  “I know it’s a little creepy,” Carolyn said. “But I don’t care. I didn’t care. Leyna was the only friend I had.”

  It was more than a little creepy, I thought, thinking about how Feif had called her a stalker. I sighed. If Carolyn was a true sociopath, she’d just keep on lying to us.

  But even as I thought so, I recalled the first time I’d seen Carolyn, in front of Divinitea after the fire. I could easily picture her reaction when Leyna’s body had been brought out. That raw grief. There was no faking that level of emotion.

  Which didn’t match at all with the sociopath theory. A true sociopath wouldn’t have had that kind of response. Sociopaths lacked empathy.

  I held Carolyn’s gaze. “All we want is the same thing as you, Carolyn. We want to know who killed Leyna. We know it wasn’t you.”

  “We do?” Glinda and Harper said at the same time.

  “I do,” I said, keeping my gaze on Carolyn. “I saw you that day in front of Divinitea when Leyna was carried out. I saw your pain. You might have lied to us about many things, but you didn’t kill Leyna.”

  “Of course I didn’t!” she said. “Haven’t you been listening to me? I loved her.”

  “Then help us figure out who killed her. We need all the facts to do that,” I said. “You and Feif have lied about so much, we don’t know what’s true.”

  “Pretty much everything I’ve told you is the truth. I just left out a few details, like me owning the majority share of the festival. I grew up in an extremely wealthy family. I had no siblings. Friendships were hard because I never knew if I was being used for my money. I kept to myself, which made me socially awkward. When my family first acquired the festival, I visited one of the fairs undercover to check on it, to see how it was run, see where changes could be made.”

  “Like Undercover Boss?” I asked.

  “Exactly like that. No one knew who I was, because the festival was purchased under an LLC. And no one with the festival cared one bit who I was as a customer—to them I was just money in their pockets. Until I met Leyna. I sat with her as she read me, and she truly seemed to care. She saw the loneliness, the distrust, my cynicism. She offered to have coffee with me that day, just to chat.”

  It was entirely likely Leyna had also known Carolyn was hiding her true identity, but I suspected the need to connect with someone as lonely as she was outweighed the secrets Carolyn was keeping.

  “We became friends. It was hard to see her go when the festival left town, so I became a groupie. Leyna eventually got me a job,” Carolyn said, using air quotes around job.

  I was definitely never using air quotes ever again.

  “You see, my lies are harmless,” she went on. “However, Feif’s lies tend to destroy people’s lives.”

  “And we’re supposed to believe you now?” Glinda asked. “Why?”

  “I don’t really care if you believe me or not,” Carolyn snapped. “Nothing’s going to bring Leyna back at this point.”

  “Do you truly think Feif would have killed her?” I asked. “He doesn’t really seem the violent sort.”

  Carolyn said, “Even the most docile people might get pushed to their limits if their deepest, darkest secrets were going to be exposed.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Glinda asked. “Had Leyna threatened to expose a secret of Feif’s?”

  “Yes,” Carolyn said. “I heard them fighting in the office at Divinitea on Saturday. I had arrived for my reading appointment early, so I was waiting for her in the reading room. Their voices carried easily. I eavesdropped. Sue me.”

  “What did she threaten him with?” I asked.

  “She told him that she never wanted to see him again, and that if he ever came back she was going to tell the world he was a phony. She accused him of having no psychic abilities at all. He tried to deny it, but she said she could read him perfectly, and always could. She read him in that moment, too. His panic, his fear. He argued that it would always be his word against hers, and that he wasn’t one to back down. Then she had him thrown out.”

  “Feif is a fraud. I knew it!” Harper said excitedly.

  A fraud, maybe.

  But we still didn’t know if he was a killer.

  “Did you see him go back to the office?” I asked. “After he snuck back in?”

  “As much as I want to say yes, I can’t. Someone came down the hallway to use the restroom, and I had to stop eavesdropping and go back into the reading room. Every time I poked my head back out, someone else was in line. Next thing I knew, the alarms were going off.”

  “But you weren’t wet,” I said, frowning at the discrepancy.

  “I climbed out the window before the sprinklers went off. There was already so much smoke …” A tear slid down her face. “I never would have thought Leyna wouldn’t make it out. And I can’t say for certain that Feif is the person who killed her, but he’s the only one with motive. That’s why I went to see Stef Millet yesterday at the Sorcerer’s Stove. I wanted to make sure she knew Feif’s game. He’d been bragging yesterday morning that she could clear his name. I wanted to warn her of his charms, because I could see him manipulating her into going along with any lie he fed her. He’s that persuasive.”

  Motive always led to the killer, and Carolyn was right—Feif had a great motive if he’d silenced Leyna to keep his big secret. I also recalled that Ve had said she’d seen Carolyn lurking in the doorway of the reading room, which gave Carolyn’s story credence.

  “However, Feif’s witness—Stef—wasn’t open to hearing what I had to say, and that tells me one thing.”

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  Carolyn’s eyes narrowed. “Feif already got to her.”

  But I knew he hadn’t, so I didn’t know where that left us. Except back at square one.

  “You’re going to need to talk to the police,” I said. “They need all this information on record, especially since you’re leaving town soon.”

  “I will,” Carolyn said. “I’ll go over there right after I leave here.”

  I didn’t quite believe she would do as she said, so I was glad when I saw Nick pass in front of the shop’s window. The front bell jangled as he came inside.

  “Perfect timing,” Glinda said. “Carolyn, meet your police escort, Nick Sawyer.”

  Carolyn’s mouth dropped open, then she snapped it closed again.

  “He’s Darcy’s fiancé and the chief of police. Hi Nick,” Harper said. “Just another quiet day in the village, eh?”

  I smiled at how Harper had listed Nick as my fiancé first. The order of importance said a lot about Harper’s family values.

  He smirked. “Is it ever quiet when Darcy and Glinda are together?”

  “Isn’t that the truth?” Harper nodded.

  I said, “Carolyn called us annoying.”

  Nick’s brown eyes flared with amusement. “Was she wrong?”

  “Not the point,” Glinda said, cracking a smile.

  “Can we go?” Carolyn asked. “I have a driver arriving soon to pick me up.”

  “By all means.” Nick swept an arm in front of him, inviting her to lead the way.

  Despite her hurry to leave town, I knew Nick w
ouldn’t let Carolyn go without getting every last detail from her.

  If, that is, she was telling the truth. I thought she was, this time around.

  But I’d been wrong about her before.

  I put my hand on Nick’s arm as he started walking away. “Before you go, have you had any luck finding Feif? We haven’t been able to.”

  “No,” Nick said, shaking his head.

  Carolyn stopped in her tracks. “Feif cut and run? That little weasel. He’s probably halfway to Tulsa by now. How much more proof do you need that he’s guilty? Only guilty people run.”

  Glinda pointed at the suitcase. “Aren’t you cutting and running?”

  “Touché, again. But I’m not guilty.”

  “So you say,” Glinda said.

  She shot her a dour look.

  “Besides,” I said, “if Feif skipped town, why did he leave his suitcase and laptop back at the Pixie?”

  Harper said, “If I was skipping town, I’d leave some important stuff behind to make it seem like I was coming back soon. It would give me more of a head start.”

  She said it with such authority that it sounded as though she’d put some serious thought into the subject at some point. Which should have worried me, but my mind was too busy processing everything Carolyn had told us.

  We chatted with Nick for a few moments before he and a reluctant Carolyn left for the police station.

  The story Carolyn had told about what she’d heard and seen at Divinitea rang true, and it did seem as though Feif was the only one with motive, but …

  “What’s wrong?” Harper asked me. “You have a strange look on your face.”

  “There you go calling me strange again,” I said.

  She sighed. “Darcy.”

  “You don’t believe Carolyn’s chain of events?” Glinda asked. “Because I don’t. I’m not sure we can trust her at all. Talk about a weasel.”

  “I honestly don’t know what to believe at this point,” I said. “But I’m suddenly having trouble with the idea of Feif being guilty.”

  “Really?” Glinda asked. “Why? Because I can easily see him killing Leyna to keep his dirty secret of being a fraud. His livelihood depended on that information never getting out.”

  “Oh, I can see him killing her if she threatened him,” I said. “Everyone has a breaking point. And I can even see him lighting a fire to cover his crime. That’s not what I’m having trouble with.”

  “Then what?” Harper asked.

  I looked between the two of them. “How did he know to plant Leyna’s hairpin on Dorothy? He doesn’t know Dorothy from a hole in the wall. How would he know to frame her for the murder?”

  Glinda opened her mouth, closed it again.

  Harper said, “Village gossip? I’m sure it made the rounds to all the psychics.”

  “Maybe,” I said, not really believing it.

  I was certain there was more to this case than we’d discovered, and I was glad we were going to be meeting with Amanda.

  With any luck, she’d be able to help us break the case wide open.

  Because right now, it felt as though we were not only running in circles, but also running out of time.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  After seeing Nick take Carolyn away for questioning, Glinda and I decided to run home to our respective houses to check on our dogs, then meet up again at the Gingerbread Shack to talk to Amanda Goodwin.

  At home, I let Higgins out, checked voice mail, ate a frozen peppermint patty, worried about the phone call coming later in the day, and tried not to stress about the Renewal.

  It wasn’t long at all before I was back outside, my face turned toward the sun. I was due at the bakery in fifteen minutes, which gave me plenty of time to swing by Third Eye to talk to Sylar.

  But as I approached the shop, I was dismayed to see it was closed, even though it was business hours. There was a sign on the door that explained that the shop was closed for a few days due to a family emergency.

  I wondered if he considered trying to pack up his life, sell his house, and settle his business affairs in the three days Dorothy was locked away an emergency. If so, then yeah, he was in full crisis mode.

  I glanced across the square to the neighborhood where he was renting an apartment. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time now to drop in on him at home. It was too far for me to get there and back before I was due at the Gingerbread Shack.

  I did, however, have time to stop at the Stove.

  Walking quickly, I tried not to think too hard about where I was going and why. I just wanted to get in and out as quickly as possible. It wouldn’t take but a few minutes to speak with Ula and Stef, to find out what they’d told the police. And also try to see if I could ferret out any further details about what had happened yesterday afternoon.

  When someone had tried to poison me.

  My stomach hurt as I pushed the thoughts away and pulled open the door of the restaurant.

  It took only a matter of seconds, however, to learn that my trip here had proven fruitless as well. It was Stef’s day off, and Ula wasn’t working until later on.

  With that information, I headed back out feeling increasingly frustrated.

  I crossed the green, heading for the bakery for the second time today. I pulled open the door, sucked in a lungful of decadent scents, and waved to Evan, who was helping a customer. Neither Glinda nor Amanda had arrived yet, but I was happily surprised to see Starla sitting at one of the high-top tables, poring over photographs.

  “What’s all this?” I asked as I sat next to her.

  Her blonde hair was pulled up in a tight topknot that accented her beautiful bone structure. A set of three bracelets clinked harmoniously on her arm as she pushed photographs into a pile to clear a space on the table. “Glinda asked for my help in copying these old photographs for Vince. I thought I’d take some time to sort them before taking them to my studio.”

  “She did?” It seemed a little insensitive to me, given Starla’s history with him … and Glinda. Starla’s friendship with her had come a long way—light years—but I didn’t think they were close enough quite yet for such a favor.

  “Well, I kind of forced her to let me do it. Glinda only asked me for a recommendation on where to get it done, and when I told her I’d be happy to do it, she balked.”

  Now that made more sense. “Because the albums are for Vince?”

  Starla nodded. “She didn’t want to put me in an awkward spot, but I’m happy to help. Truly.”

  “That’s because you’re the nicest person in the entire world.”

  Laughing, she said, “I wouldn’t say that, but Vince and I are still friends, and I think it’s sweet that he wants to learn as much as he can about his sisters when they were younger. It’s probably a little hard on him that he missed out on that time with them. He’s come a long way.”

  He had. There was a time, out of anger, he had cut himself off from everyone and everything. These days he was becoming more active in the community and was a prominent and charitable entrepreneur, a loving brother, a great boyfriend to Noelle, and a good friend.

  A long way was an understatement.

  I picked up a photo of Zoey riding a bike. She looked to be about seven or so and was missing a front tooth as she smiled for the camera. I also noticed the bruises on her arm that looked a lot like finger imprints. It made my heart hurt.

  Starla leaned against the stool’s backrest and adjusted the spaghetti straps of her sundress. “By the way, I haven’t found a single bad picture of Glinda yet.”

  “I’m not sure she can take a bad picture.”

  Starla grinned. “I might start trying to photograph her in awkward moments. Chewing. Coughing. Something. Just to see if it is possible.”

  I laughed. “I dare you.”

  “Oh, it’s on.” She grimaced as she picked up a picture. “Do you think we were ever this gangly?”

  I glanced at the photo of Zoey as a teenager at some sort of school d
ance. Her reddish hair was pulled back, which made her braces and austere nose stand out even more. She was smiling, though, and it looked like she was truly happy in that moment. “There are many times I’m glad we don’t have photographic evidence of our awkward teenage years.”

  Starla, who was a hybrid Wish-BakeCrafter, had grown up being unable to be seen on film as well. I said, “I cringe when I think about some of my fashion choices.”

  “You should have seen my hair the time I decided I really needed a perm.”

  “Oh no.”

  I laughed. “Oh yes.”

  “I kind of wish I could see that, actually.”

  “And I’m kind of glad I can’t grant that wish.” By Craft law, Wishcrafters couldn’t grant the wishes of other Wishcrafters.

  Evan came over with a plate of cupcakes and a cup of coffee and set them in front of me. His ginger hair was slicked back in a mini pompadour, and there was a smudge of flour on his chin as he smiled. “I heard you’ve been running around the village like a madwoman. I thought you could use a little sustenance.”

  Starla snagged the plate. “Maybe these should be withheld as an incentive to tell us about your wedding dress. Pepe and Mrs. P were in here earlier and wouldn’t say a word—for a change. C’mon, one little detail, Darcy.”

  “One detail? Okay. It’s white,” I said.

  They both groaned.

  I smiled. “I want it to be a surprise. Pepe and Godfrey worked so hard on it.”

  “They’re magical,” Evan said in a whisper. “How hard could it have been?”

  “How hard was it for you to make Harper’s birthday cake?” I asked. “Thank you, by the way. It was beautiful.”

  He made a sour face. “Point taken, and you’re welcome.”

  “For all your running around, did you ever catch up with Feif or Carolyn?” Starla asked. “Pepe and Mrs. P left us on a cliffhanger.”

  “With Carolyn,” I said, explaining the big bombshell that she owned the majority of the festival. “But it looks like Feif skipped town. No one’s seen him since yesterday morning around eight.”

  “I saw him after that,” Evan said. “Around eight fifteen, eight thirty.”