by Ruby Loren
I looked away, not wanting to intensify the moment. “I don’t think she was particularly psychic. I know that even the gifted don’t see everything coming, but she got in such a mess during the last murder investigation.”
A small satisfied smile crept onto the detective’s face. “That was my feeling, too. I have my suspicions that, in order to make up for a shortfall of actual supernatural talent, Bridgette Spellsworth made her money in a different kind of business.”
“What are you thinking?” I asked, not wanting to jump the gun.
The detective shot me a knowing look. “In a town full of secrets, I think one woman found out a few of them and sold her silence at a price.”
“She was blackmailing people.” Before I’d come back to Wormwood, that would have surprised me. But my own mother had even dabbled in that business, and I had become the secret keeper of her old arrangement. It made me all the more ready to believe that Bridgette had been involved in a similar scheme.
“She wasn’t psychic. How did she find out about these secrets?” I mused aloud and then thought about everything I knew about Bridgette… and the stories that were told about how to spot frauds in the psychic community. It was claimed that you could get away with having no talent at all, if you were able to read people and observe them. “She must have noticed things,” I concluded.
Most frauds were exposed in a town like Wormwood, but Bridgette had always ploughed on - although, I’d never heard of her accurately predicting anything, just giving good advice. With the blessed gift of hindsight, I realised it was pretty suspect.
“I think observation was one of her talents. She probably heard a lot of gossip, too, speaking one on one with people. And with the right questions asked in a standard reading, I’m sure it wouldn’t have been too difficult to persuade her clients to open up and reveal enough information for Bridgette to work out certain things about certain people,” the detective suggested.
“Who were the people making monthly payments?” I asked.
The detective gave me a conflicted look.
I gave him an annoyed one right back. When he’d tried to arrest the vampire, he’d been forced to reveal his knowledge of the supernatural in front of me. At first, I’d hoped that he’d done it to keep me out of danger with the vampire, or perhaps because we’d built trust doing research together. After this conversation, I just felt like the situation had forced his hand.
Sean shut his eyes for a second, probably seeing all of my thoughts written on my face. “It’s like I said… there were a lot of names. Unfortunately, in the accounts only the last names were given, but the families that are implicated are numerous and often very high profile within this town. Bridgette’s list included the Hex family, the Ghouls, and the Starbrights.”
I blew air out through my nose. Surprise surprise. The mayor was involved in something else suspicious. What if everything he was currently up to was a way to get rid of whatever messy trails he’d left littering his past? Bridgette could have been part of the clean up operation he was currently undertaking. “Have you questioned them all?”
“Those families and the others. None of them have admitted to being blackmailed. Whether that’s because Bridgette warned them about what would happen to them if something were to happen to her, or because they know how guilty it might make them appear, I’m not sure, but it’s essentially a dead lead. No one is talking. Aside from that… I have a list of names of people who booked appointments in the week before her death.”
I felt my forehead crease. “Why do I get the feeling that this is the part you wanted to talk to me about?” My spidey-senses were definitely tingling.
“Maybe you’re psychic?”
I blinked. Had the detective just made a joke? He carried on talking before I could think on it too much.
“Your aunts were on the customer list in Bridgette’s diary for that week. She would have seen them on the day of her disappearance. Did you know that they had an appointment with her?” He took a piece of printed paper out of his pocket and slid it across to me.
I glanced at the photocopy of the diary and shook my head. “I’m sure I can find out. Have you already asked them?”
Now it was the detective’s turn to shake his head. “I’ve mostly been working on trying to get those being blackmailed to admit that it was happening. Now, I’m focusing on what occurred in the days before the murder. Will you tell me what you find out? I think that families are more likely to tell each other the truth than those outside of their inner circle.”
I thought about the magically-binding promise that my aunts had made to me. “I’m sure you’re right. I’ll do it.” I had no problem with that. I wanted to know the answer myself. My aunts had promised to no longer keep secrets from me, but neglecting to mention that they’d been to see a fortuneteller on the same day that I’d found her body in the woods was a pretty big thing to forget to mention.
I emerged from my inner thoughts and read the meaning of the serious expression on the detective’s face. “You’re thinking that it was probably someone she saw recently who did this to her. After all - if her blackmail arrangements had been going smoothly for years, why would that suddenly change?”
“That is what I’m currently investigating. I’m not ruling anything out. There’s always the possibility that one of her regular payers had a change in circumstances that made it so they couldn’t pay up any longer. Or, perhaps she tried to coerce the wrong new client. Either is a possibility.”
“That’s a long list of suspects.”
“It is. It’s what’s slowing down the investigation. Well - as well as being stretched pretty thinly, due to it becoming necessary for the police to work overtime keeping the peace around here.”
“I think people are just trying to take back control of their town because they’re feeling threatened,” I said, suddenly vocalising something I’d been watching happening and feeling growing for a while now. In fact, ever since Bridgette’s body had been found. It had been bad when a stranger had been murdered and the finger pointed at all of us, but this was one of our own who was very definitely dead… and her killer was probably one of us. Wormwood had always been weird, but it had never been deadly, and I thought that the community was not ready for it to turn into that.
“I know. I’ve seen it happen before in other towns.” The detective’s mouth was a thin straight line. “That’s why I’m doing everything I can to handle this situation as sensitively as possible. I don’t want this to turn into a town where lynch mobs rule and we all have to live with the consequences. This case needs to be solved as swiftly and as quietly as possible.” he narrowed his eyes at me, and I knew he was thinking about the next edition of Tales from Wormwood. The magazine would be going to the printers soon. I hoped I’d have a better story about the murder than what I had at the moment.
“You know I’m going to write an article about what happened, but… I’ll keep what you’ve just said in mind. I won’t be inspiring any vigilante action.”
“Unless you’re the one doing it, right?” Detective Admiral raised his eyebrows, and there it was - that same unimpressed and disappointed expression he’d used on me when he’d found me with the murderer the last time something terrible had happened in Wormwood.
“And how would that case have ended for you, if I hadn’t gone on my little research mission?” I was fed up with the detective’s towering disapproval, when we both knew he wouldn’t have been able to put the one responsible for all of the terrible crimes away, if it weren’t for my involvement.
“I would have done it the legal way. The result would have been the same in the end.”
I shook my head. “I can see why you’re willing to believe in the supernatural without seeing it, if you believe something as ridiculous as that.”
We lapsed into silence, both watching the other warily.
“Keep the diary copy. Sometimes it helps to actually have concrete evidence of the things you’re cla
iming. I should be going. I came to ask you a question, and I got my answer,” the detective announced, pushing himself up from the chair and walking away to the door.
I got the distinct impression he wasn’t talking about the answer I’d given him regarding my aunts.
15
The Cabin in the Woods
“Did it slip your mind to tell me that you paid a visit to Bridgette Spellsworth on the day that she died?” I said when I walked down the stairs for breakfast the next morning.
My aunts stopped fighting over the coffee pot and looked at me. I wasn’t sure if it was part of the magical promise they’d made, or not, but guilt was written across their faces. I raised my eyebrows at them, waiting for the big explanation.
“We knew your witch trial was coming up and we just wanted reassurances that you were on the right path. We thought that, if we could get a glimpse into your future, it would be reassuring,” Minerva began, looking sideways at her sister as she said it. “I didn’t really consider that it was later that very day she was killed. That poor woman.”
I folded my arms. They were going to have to do a lot better than that. “Why would you go to Bridgette Spellsworth? You used to live in this town. I haven’t even been back long, and I never heard anything about her predictions as a fortuneteller. Why pick her to go to?”
“She came into the shop and talked like she knew you well. We thought she would be able to help us gain some insight into what was to come,” Linda said, holding her right hand up in the air. “Cross my heart and hope to die!”
“We’re under a truth spell, remember?” Minerva muttered.
“What exactly happens if you don’t tell me the truth?” I asked, curious.
“Terrible things,” Linda said, wiggling her fingers in the air ominously.
“Careful, or you’ll set it off.” Minerva sighed. “You get a very unsightly and uncomfortable rash that won’t go away until you apologise to the person you spelled yourself not to lie to, and you tell them the truth.”
“But… avoiding the truth is okay. Just so long as you don’t actually tell a lie,” I summarised.
The guilty looks were all the confirmation I needed that my observation was correct.
I spread my hands flat on the table. “What did she tell you?”
My aunts exchanged a look. I resisted the urge to magic up a weapon capable of destroying the entire kitchen.
“Bridgette said that you would come through it victorious. And you did,” Minerva said.
“That was it? That was the entirety of the reading?”
Linda dodged past her sister and flashed me a smile. “No, she also said that you weren’t going to be the disappointment that the Salem family feared. You would surprise us all. But there was definitely something about the way she said it that made us think it might not be a good surprise.”
“And she was right,” I finished, so my aunts didn’t have to.
“You’re not a failure or anything that our family will be ashamed of. We just don’t properly understand your gifts yet. But we will, and I think all of us here know that you are likely to be the most talented Salem in several generations. Perhaps ever,” Minerva told me.
I watched her for any signs of a rash appearing.
Aunt Linda watched, too.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake! You two are just as bad as each other,” Minerva complained. “Hazel, you will never be a disappointment to us.”
“Is there something about our family that I should know? I don’t know anything about the other Salems because of my mum being excommunicated. All things considered, I’m not sure that I want to know more about a family who does things like that, but… should I be aware of anything in particular? Don’t!” I said when my aunts made to look at each other, presumably to silently decide upon a story to sell me. “Just tell me… why does it matter to the family if I’m any good at magic or not?”
“Old magical families can be pretentious,” Minerva began.
“Stuck up,” Linda translated, completely unnecessarily.
“However, whilst your mother disobeyed Salem family law, the mystery surrounding your provenance, and what kind of witch you might turn out to be, has meant that there have been many eyes on you, waiting for this moment.”
“It’s kept the Salems in gossip for the past however many years old you are,” Linda explained. “You’re a wild card. Everyone knew that either your mother picked someone completely unsuitable and so normal it would have enraged the family that she was shunning their magical blood, or she went completely the other way and did the deed with a man that the Salems definitely wouldn’t have approved of because of some kind of rivalry.”
“Might there have been a specific family you had in mind when thinking about the second option? I’m assuming we’re going with the second option now?”
“It does seem likely,” Aunt Minerva concurred. “Unfortunately, no. Witches and witch families are very old indeed. The Salems have their fair share of rivals and enemies.”
“More than their fair share,” Linda added.
“So… no one has any idea who my father really is,” I concluded. I knew it was something I would forever wonder about, and something I also hoped I would one day find out the truth about. Someone had to know. And recently, Wormwood’s secrets had been leaking out at the seams.
“Now that you’ve made it through your witch trial, the family might start to show more of an interest in you,” Minerva explained.
“Well, I’m not interested,” I said, feeling a sudden fire spread through my veins. A family who only decided they wanted you once you’d become powerful, and therefore useful, were not a family I wanted to be a part of. My aunts had turned up at my door when I’d been on the eve of coming into my magic, but they’d made it clear that they’d come as soon as they were able after my mother had died and her exile had been lifted. And if there was any doubt at all left in my mind, one simple question would clear it up.
“If I’d turned out not to be a witch after all… you’d still have stuck around and been my aunts, right?” I asked, watching them both very carefully.
For once, there was no exchange of looks or hesitation.
“Of course we would have stayed,” Minerva assured me.
“You’d have needed us even more if you hadn’t been a witch. People are mean,” Linda said, smiling lovingly at me.
No rashes appeared, but I hadn’t expected them to.
Even though my aunts sometimes tried my patience, and I hated when they kept things from me, I knew that I had grown to love them in the short time we’d been living together. They were my family. And family stuck together, no matter what.
I smiled. “Just between us, Detective Admiral might be popping by soon to ask if Bridgette tried to blackmail you and that’s the reason why you decided to kill her.”
Aunt Minerva dropped a fork on the floor, before hurriedly picking it up. “She did no such thing. As we’ve just discussed, we don’t have deep dark secrets that we’re keeping from you, or anyone else in this town for that matter. It was just a reading and nothing more.”
“Huh, still no rash,” I said with another smile. “There’s something else, too. The detective knows about the supernatural.”
My aunts did their favourite exchange of looks thing.
“That’s unusual for a man with no abilities of his own. Are you sure he’s completely…”
“…human?” Aunt Linda finished whilst her sister searched for the right word.
I shrugged. “Who knows who anyone really is in this town? I haven’t seen any signs of magical abilities, but I know there’s more to it than just magic. He could be a shifter, or something else entirely. But I don’t think so.” My gut feeling was that Detective Admiral was a man who was in the know, but an exceedingly reluctant knowledge holder. I still hadn’t forgotten the way he’d reacted when the frog plague had hit the house, courtesy of Aunt Linda. Now that I knew he’d always known how they’d appea
red, I found I was more disappointed with the way he’d reacted than if he’d been genuinely baffled.
“I think the wisest course of action right now would be to keep your head down. If the detective is right about this theory of blackmail that he’s clearly following up, then it wouldn’t be a smart thing to investigate too closely. Bridgette Spellsworth is all the evidence you need that there are some people who will do anything, rather than have their secrets exposed,” Minerva warned me.
I sighed. “I know it’s probably dangerous, but the detective is stretched pretty thinly. The fact that he’s even talking to me about any of this… What if it’s a cry for help?” I looked out of the corner of my eye at my aunts. They weren’t buying it. “I need something good for Tales of Wormwood, or people will stop advertising. There has to be drama and an inside look at this case. The best issue to date was the one when I wrote up everything I did when I was investigating the last murder in the forest. I could really do with a repeat of that. Minus the part where I nearly died,” I allowed.
“If money’s the problem, you know we can help you with that,” Aunt Minerva said, walking over and resting a hand on my arm.
I shook my head. “It’s not money, not anymore. It’s about doing something that I want to do and making it a success, because I put the work in to make it that way. It’s having something in my life that I can control the outcome of.” I looked at my aunt, willing her to understand. With my magic inexplicable, and still not completely in my control, I needed this. What’s more, I didn’t want magic to be my entire life. I wanted to achieve the goals I’d set prior to becoming a witch.
It was that line of thinking that sent me back to Wormwood Forest that night.
After the conversations I’d had with both my family and those interested in this murder case, the wisdom of wandering the forest late at night was questionable. There was someone dangerous still at large in Wormwood. Worse than that, tensions were running high, and any suspicious activity could tip the town over the edge and into full lynch mob mode. Revisiting the scene of the crime would definitely fall into the category of suspicious behaviour, but I had to go back.