The Witch Weekly: a paranormal cozy mystery (The Fairyvale Mysteries Book 2)

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The Witch Weekly: a paranormal cozy mystery (The Fairyvale Mysteries Book 2) Page 14

by Sofia Belle


  “Maybe he stopped by and saw them. He could’ve taken Trisha with him over to Reynolds’ to use as a hostage.”

  “But what about the car?” I blinked, still not quite connecting the dots. “Dan’s car was at his place.”

  “Maybe he has another. Maybe Trisha has a second car, I don’t know. We can find out all that information on the way over. Can you drive? I have a few calls to make.”

  “I was born for high speed car chases.”

  “This is not a high speed car chase, I just need you to drive across town.”

  “At very high speeds.”

  “At normal speeds.”

  “Let’s go,” I said with a sigh, taking my keys back from him. “You are no fun.”

  Chapter 25

  “That was not normal speed.” The Chief’s fingers gripped the door handle so hard I thought he might just snap it right off before he could get out of the car. His feet hit the ground almost before the wheels stopped spinning.

  “It wasn’t so bad,” I said. “I’m a good driver.”

  “Yeah, if you’re trying to hit every one of the lines on the street. You’re all over the place.”

  “Shh, no time to talk about my driving habits, we’ve gotta get a move on.” I hid a smile as we crept towards Reynolds’ house. It was fun bantering with the Chief, even if the circumstances were a bit unusual. It reminded me of old times. Back when we were kids and teased each other like best friends do.

  The neighborhood was quiet tonight, as one might expect from a residential neighborhood well into the night. We’d parked a block away, just in case something was up at Reynolds’ house. On the way, the Chief had called the other cops and let them know what was happening and where we were headed, just in case. Then he said he’d call in thirty minutes. If he didn’t call, that was their cue to get over to Reynolds’ ASAP.

  In the meantime, they were tasked with pulling all of the information they could on Trisha, Dan, Reynolds and Hank—anything that might have been missed in the investigation already.

  This time with a special focus on additional vehicles under any of their names, or any blueprints they could find in Hank’s inbox or computer programs. If all was well here, then the Chief would call them back in thirty minutes for a report on the information the other cops had found.

  The Chief’s hand snuck up to his waist, where I knew a gun sat just above his hip.

  “I’m glad I have you to carry the gun,” I said. “I don’t have a gun.”

  “You’re not supposed to have a gun, you’re a reporter.”

  “That’s right. My pen is my weapon.”

  “Are you nervous? Is that why you won’t stop talking?”

  I fell silent as we neared the front lawn. “What’s the plan?”

  “We don’t know that anything is wrong. It’s the middle of the night, so we are going to walk up to the door and knock. If there’s no answer, or if something seems off, well…”

  “You’ll let me see if the door is unlocked?”

  “You didn’t hear that from me.” The Chief shot me a knowing gaze. “Are you ready?”

  I nodded.

  Stepping up to the front door, the Chief raised a hand. He paused for a moment, moving between me and the entrance. Then, he knocked.

  There was no answer for a long moment. So long, we both leaned in to listen. My hand was itching to work some magic on the doorknob, but the Chief held up a finger as if listening to something I couldn’t hear.

  He poised his fist to knock again, but before he could do so, the door swung open.

  My mouth almost hit the floor as Trisha smiled, said hello, then pointed a gun in the Chief’s face.

  “Welcome to the party, you two,” she said. “Sorry I forgot your invitations. Come on in. If either of you try something dumb, the other one will be missing a face. That’s not very romantic now, is it?”

  “We’re not on a date,” I said, trying to slide sideways. Out of the corner of my eye, I’d spotted a rake leaned up against the side of Reynolds’ house—probably from the other day when I’d walked in on him mowing the lawn. Thank goodness he kept up with the yard work. If I could get a few more inches to the right, I might be able to grab the handle…

  “We are on a date.” The Chief turned to face me. His voice sounded angry, but his eyes had a calm and calculating expression in them.

  “No,” I said, playing along. “I turned you down, Chief. I’ve been turning you down for years. Don’t you dare call this a date.”

  “I’ll call it what I want.” He stepped closer to me, giving me no choice but to take a step back towards the rake.

  The man was brilliant. No wonder he’d risen so quickly through the ranks in his job. The Chief not only maintained an expression as readable as a rock, but he had good instinctive reflexes. I considered myself quick on my feet, but his little role play game was beyond good.

  “I’m not yours for the taking.” I stood my ground this time, waiting for his move.

  “Stop it, love birds,” Trisha said, waving a gun in our general direction. “Get inside.”

  “Not until she admits this is a date.” The Chief’s eyes flashed with something resembling apology before he raised his hands to my shoulders and gave me a push backwards.

  The “push” was light as a feather, and hardly enough to make me sway. However, he made it look real, so I did, too. Stumbling backwards, I toppled off the stairs and landed in a crouch on the ground. Only one more step before the rake was within my grasp.

  “Oh, I see what you’re doing. Get your ass up here before I shoot a hole in you and that rake,” Trisha said. “Nice try. For a second, you had me fooled into thinking this was a real fight. You two have enough sexual tension between you both that I can hardly stand it.”

  “What gave it away?” I growled, raising my hands and taking a step closer to the front door.

  “The shove.” She shook her head. “I know of the Chief. I’ve heard stories about him—he’d never push a lady, especially one he loves.”

  “He doesn’t love me,” I said. “We’ve been on one date.”

  “Have you asked him?” Trisha raised an eyebrow. “It’s love.”

  My heart pumped faster than it’s ever pumped before as I let my gaze fall onto the Chief’s face. “Is that true?”

  “I’m afraid it might be.” He reached a hand out, gently helping me onto the stairs beside him. “That’s what I was hoping to find out over the next seven dates. To see if you feel the same way.”

  I blinked, my gaze drawn to the ground. “I didn’t know.”

  “I didn’t either. But it’s surprising what happens when someone shoves a gun in your face and threatens to shoot you.”

  We shared a wry smile.

  “Rosie, this doesn’t mean anything,” he said, taking my hands in his. “I still want to take things slow. I want to date you and get to know you. Maybe I always had feelings for you, and they never left. I don’t know.”

  “I don’t know either,” I said. “But I’d like that. The dates, I mean. I’ve never had such an interesting first or second date.”

  “These don’t count,” he said. “I get a fresh slate.”

  “Nobody’s going on any dates if you don’t step inside the house in the next ten seconds. This is making me woozy,” Trisha said. “I’m going to count to three.”

  Before she started counting, the Chief grabbed my hand and pulled me over to the entryway. For a brief second, I contemplated using magic. We were in a sticky situation here for a few reasons. Magic was not allowed in the presence of others unless absolutely necessary for self-defense.

  I could probably make the argument that having a gun shoved into my face was enough of a threat to need magic. On the other hand, I was doubtful that Trisha had plans to shoot the Chief of police. There’s no way she would get away with it.

  Also, if I used magic now, there’s no telling what would happen. Both her memory and the Chief’s would have to be wiped—ass
uming they weren’t magic—and that could be troublesome.

  All things considered, it’d be best to wait until after Trisha had divulged her plans so we knew what she was hiding, and hopefully where she was hiding it. If we were extra lucky, we might even find out who’d killed Hank. Chances looked high she had a hand in things, whether or not she’d done the actual murdering, it was too difficult to say.

  Lastly, if the Chief wasn’t magic, his memory of this moment would have to be wiped. A small part of me wanted that to happen. The same part of me that was scared and full of self-doubt. But another part of me wanted him to remember this moment, to remember the promises he made to take me out on dates. To remember saying the word love.

  “Upstairs.” Trisha poked me in the back with the gun, and I lurched forward.

  The Chief reached out to steady me. “Watch it,” he growled to Trisha. “If you want to threaten someone, make sure it’s me. Not her. She doesn’t have a part in any of this.”

  “Oh really?” Trisha asked, a sugary sweetness to her voice. “I thought she was writing about Hank for the Construction Times.”

  My face flamed red. “You knew that wasn’t real from the start.”

  “I know exactly who you are honey. You write them motivational posts for The Witch Weekly.”

  “It’s not my idea to write those,” I grumbled. “I’m known for my investigative reporting.”

  The Chief shot me an I can’t believe this expression, and I fell silent.

  “Did you like the show I put on for you two?” Trisha bobbed her shoulders up and down. “That’s what you get when you try and spy on my house. Rosie, if you thought that was sneaky hiding under the picnic table while I talked to the Chief… try again.”

  “You sounded so sad,” I said, my voice trailing off. “I believed you. That you were in mourning.”

  “Yeah, maybe I should’ve been an actress. I’m pretty good, if I say so myself. A fact that Hank couldn’t appreciate.”

  “Hank?” A shudder ran through my spine at the way she threw out her ex’s name without any sign of remorse whatsoever. “What does Hank have to do with your acting abilities?”

  “We were going to be a team. The perfect team. But he didn’t want to cooperate.”

  “With what?”

  “Move in there. Rosie, sit against the wall. Chief, handcuff her. If you do a bad job, I’ll just have to shoot her instead, so make it good.” Trisha led us up the last few steps and past the open door to the bathroom, which was a complete and utter mess.

  Tiles everywhere, piping poking out every random direction, holes on every surface; the place was dangerous.

  “Did you take a sledgehammer to the bathroom or what?” I asked, as she yelled at us to keep walking. “I was here the other day, and it didn’t look like that. Where is Reynolds by the way?”

  “He’s in his room.” The way Trisha’s voice lilted into almost a happy laugh churned my stomach. It was becoming apparent quite rapidly that Trisha was off her rocker, which made me wary of anything that made her sound excited. “Don’t worry, he won’t be going anywhere at all. Not anytime soon, at least. Don’t bother to yell—he’s currently indisposed to chat back.”

  The Chief’s eyes flashed dark for a moment, and I worried he might talk back. Or worse, lash out. In fact, I was a little surprised that he hadn’t tried to overtake Trisha yet, however that could probably be explained by the fact that she kept the gun pointed at my back. Knowing the Chief, he wouldn’t risk an innocent person’s life if at all possible, and I didn’t doubt that Trisha would pull the trigger if either of us made a move.

  “Handcuffs,” she said. “Now.”

  Moving close behind me, the Chief left enough distance between us so Trisha wouldn’t have a reason to be suspicious. He was near enough that his presence was comforting, the tickle of his breath on the back of my neck reminding me that he was a professional. If I had to choose a buddy to be handcuffed with in this sort of situation, he wasn’t a bad option.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “Try to relax.”

  Inhaling deeply, I tried my best to let my shoulders relax, but it was hard. Especially with Trisha watching so closely. “He’s handcuffing me, okay? Are you going to tell us what’s going on?”

  “You walked in at the wrong time.” Trisha’s eyes never left the Chief’s hands as he snapped the cuffs around my wrists. “Good, now sit.”

  I slid to the floor. “What’d you do with Hank?”

  “I didn’t do anything with Hank.” She looked down and fiddled with her nails, then pointed the gun at the Chief. “You. Go against the wall. The opposite wall. I need you.”

  “You’re a liar,” I said, my words hot as they spilled from my lips. “You killed Hank.”

  “No, the wine killed him. At least that’s what I hear.”

  “How’d you doctor the wine? That was Jo’s bottle,” I said. “Don’t you feel guilty at all for letting an innocent person take the fall for your crime?”

  “What crime?” She raised her eyebrows and spoke so sweetly, so sarcastically I wanted to shake her until she told us the truth. “They found Jo. There’s no evidence to suggest anyone else killed Hank. Maybe she was sleeping with her or something, who knows.”

  The tone of her voice was bored; too bored for someone who’d been dating him for so long. “You never loved him.”

  “I did.” Her eyes sparked with an emotion, and I knew as soon as I’d said it that I’d struck a chord. “I loved him. We went through lots of ups and downs.”

  “But something changed,” I said. “Something changed, and he stopped loving you.”

  “We were together a long time. We just needed to spice up things.”

  “So you proposed a plan, and he didn’t like it,” I said, wracking my brain for whatever the plan might be. Some sort of hint that’d keep her talking. “A plan that had to do with Reynolds’ construction… You wanted whatever was in that secret hiding spot!”

  “What secret hiding spot?”

  “We saw the blueprints.” The Chief jumped in from the opposite corner. “We know Hank was working on a project for Reynolds. What we’re not sure of is whether or not he knew what it was for.”

  “Of course he didn’t!” Trisha shrieked, losing her cool. “You think Hank was the brains of the operation? Come on. That man was happy to do what people told him to do. Did he question the blueprint? No.”

  “But he left it sitting out on his desk, and you saw it. You recognized it,” I said. “I don’t know how.”

  “Because of the hints Hank kept dropping. He kept telling me that Reynolds made him sign some confidentiality contract or whatever—fixing toilets doesn’t require confidentiality unless there’s something he’s trying to hide. So yes, I poked around and found the plans. I compared them to other plans.”

  “And you saw the same thing I did,” the Chief said. “A safe built into the floor and disguised as plumbing. A cubic foot of space to stash something he didn’t want found.”

  “What’s in there?” I asked. “What did you find?”

  “The safe’s not finished yet,” she said. “Which is why Reynolds is still alive. And now, you two will have to join him in getting dead just as soon as we find the valuables. If you hadn’t asked so many questions, I might have let you stay alive, since I’m going to be disappearing anyway.”

  “You don’t have to kill us,” I said. “You can still disappear.”

  “Yeah, you might let me go,” she said. “But the Chief—he’s got too strong of a moral compass. He’d hunt me down until he found me.”

  “That I would.” He spoke with a level voice. “And you’re a fool if you don’t think the rest of the force will go after you if you shoot me. It’s best if you turn yourself in.”

  Trisha laughed. “I’ve worked too hard for that. Now Chief, you walk in front of me. You’re going to tear up some tiles for me. Use those manly arms your girlfriend loves so much.”

  With a hesitant gl
ance in my direction, the Chief took a few steps forward. “Are you okay?”

  “Of course she’s okay,” Trish said, as I nodded. “For now. The way to keep her okay is to get to work. I want every tile out of that bathroom floor.”

  “What makes you think the valuables are in the floor?” he asked. “Why wouldn’t they be in a safe or something?”

  “Reynolds said they were in the floor. I believe him, since I used some pretty convincing tactics to make him talk.”

  I flinched, not wanting to know the extent of those tactics. “Is he hurt badly?”

  “He’ll survive. If we get the valuables.”

  “Wait here,” the Chief said. “I’ll get you out of this, just don’t do anything rash.”

  I looked up as Trisha directed him out of the room with the gun. Just before he disappeared into the bathroom, I called toward him. “I couldn’t do anything if I wanted to with these handcuffs on—it’s not like I can magically unlock them!”

  Trisha glared at me, but she must have agreed that magic was complete and utter nonsense because she kept walking. The Chief, however, snuck a glance over his shoulder, and I could’ve sworn the corner of his mouth twitched upwards in a smile. Hopefully he’d gotten my hint. Hopefully I hadn’t spilled the beans about magic.

  Leaving the handcuffs in place for now, I listened as Trisha instructed the Chief to dig up this tile, pull that pipe, move that board. He worked for a few minutes, but he must not have turned up anything at all based upon Trisha’s increasingly profane words.

  “Hurry up,” she snapped. “We don’t have all day. You don’t find something in the next ten minutes, and one of the other two guests in this house is going to start hurting. I’ll probably start with Reynolds and save the girl for last.”

  “I have no clue what I’m supposed to be looking for, or where I’m looking for in the first place.” The Chief’s voice sounded thin with exasperation. “Did you even think to ask Reynolds? It’s his house.”

  “He’s currently not available for questions.”

 

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