Cursed on the Second Date: A Witchy Cozy Mystery (Cursed Coven Cozies Book 2)

by Daphne DeWitt

Hearing the door open, I looked over at it and saw Bobby and Mason walking to us. “Hey, guys. Are you two here because you did something very stupid and need a lawyer?” I asked.

  If that was the reason they were there, it wouldn’t have been the first time. They were pros at getting into trouble. It was like it always seemed to find them.

  “Surprisingly no. I’m here to talk to you. I just happened to run into Bobby as I walking here,” Mason said, taking off his baseball hat and turning it backward.

  “She’s busy right now. We have people to question about Bobby Matthew’s death and unless you have information about that for us you will have to wait to talk to her,” Daniel said, giving Mason the stink eye.

  “I can speak for myself, Atlanta. Mason, why don’t you come over tonight and we can talk.”

  He smiled at me and gave me a hug before walking out of the building. “Please don’t tell me you’re here for Malady too,” Daniel said, looking at Bobby.

  “Nah, Malady’s cool, but she never was my type. I’m here to pick Abigail up. We’re going on a brunch date,” he said, smiling at Abby like she hung the moon.

  I didn’t know brunch dates were a thing or that Abigail and Bobby were a thing either.

  Something was definitely up with Bobby. Last time I saw him around Abigail, he ran the other way. He wanted absolutely nothing to do with her and me being me I started to get suspicious. Abigail was up to something, but I had no time for CW teenage drama. Not at that moment.

  “Bye, guys,” Abigail said, grabbing Bobby’s hand and pulling him out of the door. He followed her looking like one of those cartoons with hearts for eyes.

  Cade watched them until they disappeared. “When did that happen?” he asked.

  “I have no idea,” I told him, shaking my head, “But, I’m guessing when she found out you were coming into town.”

  Abigail was pretending to be happy, but it wasn’t to make Cade jealous. No, it was because she was the type of girl who would never let him know she was heartbroken. She didn’t believe in crying it front of people. The mean girls never do.

  “Can Cole and I talk to you alone? I’d like to get out of Cat’s Cradle as quickly as possible,” Cade said, pointing to my office.

  “Because you don’t want to run into Abigail again?” Daniel asked, his tone making him sound like Dr. Phil.

  “Well, for that reason and because mom thinks we’re in Atlanta. She would burn us at the stake Salem style if she knew we were in the same town as Abigail Norwood,” Cole told Daniel, patting his brother on the shoulder. A shudder of something like anger ran through me. I knew the way Cole’s family felt about mine, but that didn’t excuse it. These were good people, my family, and I hated the idea of anyone thinking otherwise. Even if, admittedly, I couldn’t accuse the brothers of such.

  “Yeah, let’s go talk, so you can go on about your day. Daniel, please excuse us for a few minutes. When I finish talking to them we can head out,” I told him, leading the twins into my office and closing the door.

  My office didn’t offer much privacy. It was practically a glass box with a door. I felt like I was in a museum exhibit every time I saw at my desk. Daniel was in his office leaning against his desk with his arms crossed over his chest watching our every move. If he could have only heard our conversation. “What do you need us to do?” Cole asked, sitting on my chair and snooping through my papers on my desk.

  The Blackwater twins had zero manners.

  “Cole, I need to you talk to Bobby and I need you to stop looking through those legal documents,” I said, talking to him like he was a toddler.

  “Oh, sorry,” he said, looking down at the papers, “I’m nosey by nature. Does he stare at you like that all the time? If so I would invest in some blinds. It’s a tad bit weird.”

  Cole waved at Daniel causing me to giggle, but not too much. If I had laughed too loudly, my office would have probably shattered all around us. You know what they say, life in a glass house.

  Looking in the direction of Daniel’s office, I saw that he was still watching us. Cole was right it was a bit weird.

  “Cade, I need you to drop by this cupcake shop call Cherry on Top and find out everything there is to know about the owner, Pearl. She’s one of our suspects.”

  “Sure thing. Let’s go, Cole.”

  The twins walked out of the door at exactly the same speed. They even waved at Daniel at the same time. I always found twins who were just alike creepy. Abigail and Agnes were polar opposites. The only thing they had in common was their appearance. When one went left the other went right. Abigail preferred chocolate ice cream while Agnes always went with strawberry. See? Nothing alike.

  Gathering my things, I walked out of my office to meet Daniel who was standing by the door. “They’re nice guys,” Daniel said, dodging eye contact with me.

  “Just admit it, they give you serial killer vibes,” I said, pushing the door open.

  “Okay, fine, I feel like they should be on a Criminal Minds episode,” he said, pressing the button on his key to unlock his car.

  “I’ll be sure to tell them that you said that,” I told him, getting in the car.

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “Oh, but I would.”

  I wasn't going to tell them at least not yet. I liked having something to hang over Daniel’s head and watching him squirm because he always acted so tough.

  It was oddly enjoyable.

  11

  “Did Mr. Landry fax over Bobby’ autopsy?” I asked Daniel, sipping my peach iced tea while we waited on Oliva Matthews to join us. She had agreed to meet up with us in Cat’s Cradle to talk to us about Bobby.

  We needed all the help we could get even if it was from one of our top suspects. You know what they say ‘Keep your friends close, but keep your suspects closer.’ The actual saying said enemies, but it was the same thing.

  Kind of.

  “Yes, he did. I have it right here,” he said, reaching in his briefcase and pulling the document out. He placed it on the table for me to read before sipping his hot black coffee.

  “I don’t know how you can drink hot coffee in this muggy weather,” I said, shaking my head before reverting my attention back to the paper in front of me.

  It stated that Bobby was poisoned, but they couldn’t detect what the poison was. All they knew is it was mixed with lemonade, and it was trace amounts of it. Whoever put the poison substance in his drink wanted to make sure he was dead as a doornail.

  “They couldn’t find out what the substance was that killed him, that’s strange,” I mused out loud.

  “That’s what I said,” Daniel said, covering his mouth as he chewed on his egg whites.

  I felt bad for him as I poured extra syrup on my French toast. Wait, no, I didn’t.

  “Bobby was poisoned?” a woman asked from behind me.

  Turning around, I saw Oliva. Her eyes were puffy and red. And I couldn’t help but notice she looked exhausted. As if she hadn’t slept in days.

  “Y-yeah, he was. How are you holding up?” I asked.

  She was about to answer when Daniel started laughing out loud. Kicking his leg under the table, I smiled up at Oliva. “Sit down, Oliva, and Daniel here will go fetch you some coffee.”

  “I will?” he asked with a tone that said he didn’t want to do it.

  Digging the heel of my shoe into his foot, I watched as he jumped up. Heels hurt, but they come in handy as weapons.

  “Do you take your coffee with cream and sugar? Or do you order iced tea at a coffee shop like a weirdo?” Daniel asked Oliva, but he was looking right at me.

  I wasn’t the weird one, he was. He was drinking scalding hot coffee in the Georgia heat. Meanwhile, I was sipping on arctic temperature sweet tea with a twist of peach flavor.

  “No tea. Coffee, black and as hot as they can get it,” she said, earning a smile filled with approval from Daniel as he walked away.

  Coffee in the heat must have been an Atlanta thing. They proba
bly drank slushies in the winter too. Atlanta wasn’t far from Cat’s Cradle, but boy it was like another planet as far as I was concerned.

  “Back to Bobby. We received a copy of his autopsy this morning via fax, and it turns out he was in fact poisoned. Now, they aren’t sure what substance was used only that it was mixed with his drink,” I told her, studying her face to see her reaction.

  It was usually easy to see when someone was guilty, but not with Oliva. She had one of those faces that you couldn’t read no matter how hard you tried.

  “What do you mean they don’t know what was used to poison him?” she asked me as Daniel set her coffee in front of her.

  I knew I was supposed to be paying attention to her questions and being professional. But it was hard to do when the heat steaming from her cup of coffee was hitting her face. I was waiting to see if all of her makeup peeled off like a mask or her hair frizzed up because of the humidity. It was very distracting.

  “She zones out sometimes,” Daniel’s annoying voice boomed, pulling me out of my own head.

  “What? Oh, sorry,” I said, feeling my cheeks heat up with embarrassment, “Do you use a setting spray on your makeup?”

  Oliva looked very taken back by my question, but I needed to know it was going to stay put and not slide down her face, so I could focus on the case instead of her makeup. “Um, yes, but I’m not sure what that has to do with Bobby’ death.”

  “Me either,” Daniel said, tapping his finger on his chin.

  “It doesn’t. It just looks amazing,” I said, lying straight to her face and hoping she bought it.

  Her makeup looked horrible. She was wearing glitter eyeliner, let me repeat glitter eyeliner. I fought the urge to tell her that the ninety’s called and they wanted their eyeliner back, but I held it in.

  “Thank you,” she replied with a confused expression.

  “I’m sorry, where were we?” I asked, attempting to gather my thoughts.

  “The substance that poisoned Bobby, Suzie Q,” Daniel said, resting his chin in his hand.

  “Oh, that’s right. They are not sure what it is. They’ve never seen it before,” I told her, stirring my tea with my straw.

  “Oliva, we need your help. Is there anyone who comes to mind who had something against Bobby? Maybe someone he had a falling out with?” Daniel asked, getting his pen and notepad ready just in case she could give us some information. I did the same.

  She stewed over his question for what seemed like forever. I didn’t think she was going to be able to give us any information, but when her eyes lit up, I knew she had something for us.

  “Well, besides that homewrecker, Pearl, all that comes to mind is his ex-business partner, Andrew. They started a medical supply company together almost four years ago. Everything was going fine until one day Andrew ran off with all the money. Bobby never could get in touch with him, so he hired a PI to find him. He planned on suing him as soon as he was located. He texted me the day of his death that Andrew had been located.”

  My heart sped just a little at the news. This was interesting.

  “Do you know Andrew’s last name?” I asked.

  “No, I’m sorry, but when I get back to the house, I might be able to find a picture of him and email it to you,” she offered, getting up from the table.

  “That would be a great help,” I told her, standing up.

  We swapped numbers and then she went on her way.

  I had the feeling something big was about to happen, but I didn’t know just how big it was going to be.

  12

  Spritzing on my perfume, I ran down the stairs to wait on Mason. He was coming over to talk I had no idea what about, but I felt like I was in high school again as I watched out the window for the headlights of his truck.

  “You smell heavenly. Are you trying to drive that poor boy crazy?” Aunt Till joked, nudging me as she sat down on the couch beside me.

  “My answer depends on whether you think this perfume will do the trick,” I told her, barely containing the case of the giggles I had somehow developed. I thought about the ‘poor boy’ in question.

  Hearing a series of thuds, we both jumped up off of the couch and ran to the foyer to see Abigail sprawled across the floor surrounded by pieces of broken mirror.

  “Abby, dear, are you okay?’ Aunt Tilly asked, holding her hand out to help Abigail up.

  “I’ve been better and so has my mirror,” she said, looking down at her ruined mirror before looking up at me accusingly, “Were you laughing again? Which one of your boy toys were you thinking about this time> Geez, someone should put a bell on you to warn people.”

  “I don’t have boy toys,” I muttered.

  Abigail rudeness wasn’t shocking in the least. She was known for her sour attitude and glass half empty outlook on life.

  She leaned down to pick up a piece of her mirror.

  “Well, I guess this means seven years of bad luck for you,” Aunt Tilly said, attempting a joke to put Abigail in a better mood.

  “Wow, seven years of bad luck and here I thought things could only go up here,” she said, waving her hand over the mirror magically putting it back together and walking out of the room.

  Grandma Misty would have flipped out if she knew that Abigail used magic inside of the house when Earl was there. I had the half a mind to tell her, but I decided against it. She was already a pain to live with, and if I tattled on her, she would make living in the same house with her even more unbearable.

  “Dinner is almost ready, y’all!” Sadie called from the kitchen as the house filled the heavenly aroma of Sadie’s famous pecan glazed friended chicken. I couldn’t wait to eat it because I knew it was going to be perfect. Like always.

  “I’m going to help Sadie and try to steal a few bites,” Aunt Tilly said just as someone knocked on the door. Opening the door, I saw Mason standing there smiling at me.

  “Hey, do you want to come in?” I asked Mason.

  But before he could answer we heard yelling coming front the kitchen. “Aunt Tilly, that thing you call your fiancé ate all of my yogurt covered raisins again,” Abigail yelled, causing Mason to jump.

  “How about we just go outside? I don’t really feel like facing hurricane Abigail,” Mason said, slipping his hands into his pockets as he backed off of the front porch.

  “That’s probably a good idea,” I agreed, shutting the door behind me and stepping off of the porch to join him, “So, what did you want to talk about?”

  Walking to the backyard, we ended up at the gazebo in Aunt Tilly’s garden.

  “Who’s your Aunt’s fiancé?” he asked, looking at me while I looked at the flowers.

  “His name is Earl, and he is similar to a wild animal, but he puts a smile on Aunt Tilly’s face. So, I guess we’re stuck with him.”

  You know that feeling you get when you just know that someone is looking at you without even having to look at them? Yeah, that’s exactly how I as feeling at the moment. Mason’s eyes were glued to me like a kindergartener’s art project. It was making me uncomfortable. I loathed being stared at because people always started at me when I was out and about. I mean I was a Norwood after all, and they had heard all the rumors about our witchy ways.

  “Quit staring at me,” I told him while mentally making myself vow to remember to do one of ancestry things on the internet.

  “Why? I like staring at you, you’re beautiful.”

  “So, what did you want to talk to me about?” I asked, changing the subject to rid our conversation of the awkwardness.

  “I, uh, wanted to talk about us or at least the possibility of us,” he said, making things even more awkward than before, “Let’s go out on a date. It will be just like old times.”

  I didn’t know what to say to him. Just the night before I’d had a dream about Mason wanting to give us another shot, and in the dream, I’d been so excited. We kissed and lived happily ever after, but in real life, there was so much more to it than that.


  And, besides, I couldn’t have been with Mason if I wanted to because in order to be in a relationship and be in love you had to be happy. And happy wasn’t something I couldn't do. Case in point, my failed engagement with Nick. My theme song should have been Love Hurts by Nazareth.

  “I can’t, Mason. I couldn’t do that to you,” I told him, reaching and touching his face.

  “Why not?” he asked.

  “Because I can’t risk being happy,” I told him. And I could tell by his face he was as confused as a freshman on the first day of college.

  “What does that even mean?” he asked.

  Taking a deep breath, I thought of ways to break it to him gently but couldn’t think of any, so I had to blurt it out. Rip the Band-Aid off so to speak. “I’m cursed, Mason. If I’m happy people fall down stairs, things break, and sometimes people break too. I mean like break bones and stuff not like they break in half because that would be weird even for me.”

  Mason was silent for a while as he stewed over everything I had just told him. He took finding out I was witch fine, but from the looks of it, the whole curse scenario was really throwing him for a loop.

  “You don’t have to lie about being cursed, Malady. All you have to say is that you don’t have any interest in me,” he said, showing me a side to Mason that I had never seen before. He was angry with me.

  I tried to think of what to say to make him believe me when my phone dinged indicating that I had just received an e-mail. Looking down at my phone, I saw that it was the email was from Oliva Matthews. Quickly opening the email, I noticed that she hadn’t written anything. She just attached the picture of Bobby’ ex-business partner.

  When I saw the man’s face, I felt like my air supply had been cut off. I knew the man, but not by the name Andrew. I knew him as Earl. Mason was saying something, but I couldn’t make any of it out because I wasn’t really listening. I couldn’t pay attention to him, not when I had just had a major break in the case.

  “Mason, I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go. I have to call Daniel,” I told him, running to the house without even giving him a chance to speak.