brimstone witch 11 - grotesque murder

by April Fernsby

  A Grotesque Murder

  A Brimstone Witch Mystery

  (Book 11)

  By

  April Fernsby

  www.aprilfernsby.com

  Copyright 2018 by April Fernsby

  Front Cover by www.coverkicks.com

  Proofreading done by Paula Proofreader

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form, electronically or mechanically without permission from the author.

  This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  About the author

  Chapter 1

  “What have you done to yourself?” I peered at Gran across the kitchen table. “You look different. Younger. Have you been using magic on yourself?”

  Gran picked her cup of tea up and looked nonchalantly towards the kitchen window. “I don’t know what you mean, Cassia. I look just like I always do. I haven’t done anything different to myself.” She took a sip of her tea and I definitely saw a twinkle in her eyes.

  I tapped the kitchen table. “You can’t fool me. I know when you’re keeping something from me. Come on, Gran, admit it. Your skin is definitely plumper this morning. Excuse me for stating this, but many of your wrinkles have gone.” I looked closer. “In fact, all of them have.”

  Gran looked back at me and gave me a half-shrug. “Perhaps it’s the new face cream I’m using.”

  I wasn’t convinced. “How does that new face cream affect your hair then? It’s thicker and lighter in colour.” I studied Gran more intensely. My eyebrows shot up. “You’ve lost weight! And very quickly too.”

  Gran avoided my gaze and looked at her cup as if it was the most fascinating item she’d ever seen.

  “Gran, it doesn’t bother me if you’ve used magic on yourself. What’s the point of being witches if we can’t use our powers on ourselves sometimes? But you’ve never done this before. Is there a reason why you look different this morning?”

  She shrugged again. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t changed a thing about myself.”

  I caught sight of the small smile which alighted on Gran’s lips just before she stood up. She moved over to the sink and gazed out of the window. She declared, “Isn’t it the most beautiful morning? I think I’ll go into Brimstone and have a catch-up with the residents there. I haven’t seen them for over a week. You don’t have to come with me.” She began to hum to herself.

  I was about to question her further when Stanley, my cat and familiar, padded into the kitchen. He jumped onto my lap and said, “Was that butterfly message for you?”

  I stroked his little grey head. “What butterfly message?”

  “I was out in the garden when I saw a butterfly,” Stanley explained. “It was a Brimstone one. A yellow one. I waved to him. He flew through the open bathroom window and came indoors. I presumed he had a message for you.”

  I frowned at him. “I thought the butterflies normally came through the cellar door when they had messages for us. When was this?”

  “About ten minutes ago.”

  “I haven’t seen him. He might still be in the bathroom. Let’s go and check.” I gave Stanley a worried look. “There could have been another murder in Brimstone. It’s been quiet there for weeks now. Too quiet. Yes, I bet that’s what the message is about. Let’s find the butterfly and then we’ll go into Brimstone and start our investigation.”

  I was a justice witch in the magical town of Brimstone where supernatural creatures lived. Stanley was my investigating partner and we’d solved many murders over the last six months.

  Stanley shook his head now. “The butterfly isn’t here anymore. He stayed inside for a few minutes, and then flew back out.” His whiskers twitched. “If the butterfly didn’t have a message for you, what was he doing here?”

  We turned our heads and looked in Gran’s direction. She had her back to us and was swaying gently from side to side. She was still humming to herself.

  Stanley whispered to me, “What’s wrong with Esther? She’s lost a lot of weight. Is she poorly?” He tilted his head. “What’s different about her hair? Is she wearing a wig?”

  I shook my head at him. I called over to Gran, “Stanley saw a Brimstone butterfly coming into the house. Did you see it?”

  “Perhaps,” Gran muttered as she continued to sway. “I think I might change my outfit. I feel in a floral mood today.”

  I persisted. “Did the butterfly have a message for me?”

  “I think I’ll dab a bit of that expensive perfume on too.” She still had her back to us.

  “Gran,” I said more insistently, “did you get a butterfly message today?”

  “Perhaps,” she said again.

  “What was the message about?” I asked. “Gran, can you turn around, please? I don’t like talking to the back of your cardigan.”

  Gran turned around. There was a faraway look on her face.

  Stanley said, “She’s under a spell. She must be. She doesn’t look like her normal self. And she’s acting weird. Cassia, something is wrong with her.”

  Gran turned her attention to Stanley. “Nothing’s wrong, my little friend. In fact, everything is perfect. Just perfect. It’s a lovely day to visit Brimstone.”

  I stood up with Stanley in my arms. “We’ll come with you.”

  “No!” Gran said sharply. “You don’t have to do that.” She lifted her chin. “In fact, I could do with some alone time.”

  “But you’re going to Brimstone and you won’t be alone there,” I pointed out.

  Gran paused a fraction before saying, “You can be alone in a crowd.”

  I shook my head at her. “You’re not telling me the truth. You’re not yourself this morning. You look different, and now you’re lying to me.”

  Gran let out an outraged gasp. “I would never lie to you.” She looked down at a button on her cardigan. “Not unless it was a private matter which had nothing whatsoever to do with you.”

  I was speechless as I stared at Gran.

  Oliver, Stanley’s brother, padded into the kitchen. He stopped and took in the scene. Oliver was Gran’s familiar and he knew her better than I did. He looked Gran up and down and announced, “Esther, I know what’s going on.”

  She gave him an indignant look. “You don’t know anything. Excuse me, I’ve got things to do.” She walked away from the sink but didn’t get very far because Oliver blocked her way.

  Oliver said to her, “He’s back, isn’t he? I didn’t think he was due back for a few more years.”

  Gran looked as if she was searching for a suitable lie, but then her face broke into a grin. “Yes, he’s back! I got a message from Blythe.” She clasped her hands together.
“Isn’t this exciting? He’ll be arriving in Brimstone this morning! I must get ready.”

  “Who?” I asked. “Who are you talking about?”

  Oliver’s top lip managed to curl in disgust. For a cat, he had many expressions. He said sourly, “Quinn Ocean.”

  “Quinn Ocean?” I looked at Stanley. “Do you know him?”

  “I’ve never heard of him,” Stanley replied. “Esther, who’s Quinn Ocean? Is that his real name?”

  Gran’s wrinkle-free face glowed with joy and she gushed, “He’s amazing. Wonderful. Fabulous.” She sighed with happiness. She looked like a love-struck teenager. Albeit in a cardigan.

  I looked down at Oliver and said, “Who’s Quinn Ocean?”

  “A smooth-talking, silver-tongued layabout who worms his way into the affections of anyone daft enough to listen to him,” Oliver said. “I don’t like him. Not one little bit.”

  Gran took up her humming again and left the kitchen in a daze of joy.

  When she’d gone, Oliver continued, “I don’t know what species Quinn is. It wouldn’t surprise me if he was a demon. He travels around the magical lands and bores everyone with his stories. Well, he bored me that one time I was unlucky enough to listen to him. Everyone else seems to think he’s wonderful. Including Esther and Blythe. He tells them his ridiculous stories and then the residents shower him with gifts.”

  “What sort of gifts?” I asked.

  “Anything and everything. They give him food and shelter. They treat him like royalty. Once he’s finished telling his tedious tales, he moves on to the next town and starts all over again.”

  Stanley asked, “Is he dangerous?”

  “He’s annoying,” Oliver answered. “He makes residents forget themselves. Well, you can see what Esther’s done to herself. I thought she had more sense. But when it comes to Quinn Ocean, everyone seems to take leave of their senses.”

  I glanced upwards in the area of Gran’s bedroom. I could hear her singing. I said, “Do you think Quinn casts a spell on everyone when he tells them stories? For his own benefit?”

  Oliver’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know. It wouldn’t surprise me if he did. I’ve only seen him once, and that was one time too many. I don’t like how everyone fawns over him. Especially Esther. I’ll tell you something, Quinn Ocean always leaves Brimstone richer than he when he arrived.”

  Stanley turned his face my way. “I don’t like the sound of him. He sounds like a con man.”

  Oliver went on, “He’s more than a con man. When I saw him, there was something strange about him. I couldn’t put my paw on what was bothering me, but there’s something sneaky about him.”

  I said, “I think Stanley and I should meet this Quinn Ocean. I don’t like the idea of him taking advantage of the residents in Brimstone.”

  “And taking advantage of Esther,” Stanley added.

  Oliver nodded. “That’s a good idea. Quinn Ocean only visits Brimstone every five years. He was last here two years ago. Why is he returning so soon? What’s he up to? He must be up to something.”

  “We’ll find out,” I told him.

  Oliver gave me a wary look. “Watch yourself with Quinn Ocean. His tales work well on the feeble-minded. I don’t want you to turn all mushy and dewy-eyed in front of him.”

  “I have no intention of becoming dewy-eyed or mushy,” I informed Oliver as indignantly as I could. “I am a professional justice witch, and I will keep an open mind as I suss out this con man.”

  In his own indignant tone, Stanley added, “And as your investigating partner, I will come with you. I won’t be going all mushy either. Oliver, do you want to come with us?”

  “I’d rather go on a picnic with a hundred mice,” Oliver said with a shiver. He hated mice with a vengeance.

  There was a flash of colour at the side of the kitchen. Gran darted through the door which led to the cellar.

  “Quick!” Oliver shouted. “Get after her!”

  Stanley and I raced after Gran. We got caught in her perfume as we dashed down the cellar doors and across the floor. The door that led to the magical town of Brimstone was just closing. We ran over to it and I grabbed it. I pulled it open.

  I froze. So did Stanley.

  Stanley said, “What’s happened to Brimstone?”

  Chapter 2

  Brimstone had been decked out in all things bright and cheerful. Balloons were tied to every available surface and they danced merrily in the slight breeze. Bunting hung from one post to another around the town square. Ribbons decorated every tree and plant. The gazebo in the middle of the town square had been decorated to within an inch of its life. I could barely see the wooden structure beneath the flowers which had been placed all over it. A huge banner hung from the two largest trees in the square. The banner declared ‘Brimstone Welcomes You Back, Quinn! We love you!’

  The residents of Brimstone were just as brightly coloured. They scuttled around the town in their vivid outfits and chattered excitedly to each other. Many of them were skipping with joy as they moved along the streets. A band of elves were practising their music at the side of the gazebo. A troupe of fairies were fluttering around a tree in perfect synchronicity.

  I looked at Stanley and said, “The whole town has gone mad.”

  “Totally mad,” Stanley agreed. “We didn’t make this much fuss when the Queen came to visit Leeds. We didn’t even bother going to Leeds to see her. We watched everything on the telly.”

  “That’s what the telly is for,” I said. “Is this all for Quinn Ocean?”

  We left the cellar behind us and walked towards the town. Happy voices came to us from many directions. Residents kept looking skywards with hope filling their faces.

  “He’ll be here soon!” a goblin announced as he darted across our path. “He’ll be here very soon!”

  I spotted Gran standing outside the Mooncrest Café. She was standing with a young woman who I didn’t recognise.

  I said to Stanley, “Let’s go over to Gran and keep an eye on her. Look at that dress she’s wearing. It’s far too low-cut. And the hem is too high.” I tutted. “I should send her home to get changed.”

  “You should. Who’s that standing with Esther? She looks vaguely familiar.”

  We moved closer and came to a stop a few feet away from Gran and her excited companion.

  “I don’t believe it,” I said to Stanley. “It’s Blythe. I barely recognised her. She looks like a teenager.”

  Stanley looked Blythe up and down. “She certainly doesn’t look like a three-hundred-year-old witch who’s in charge of this town. I never thought I’d see Blythe wearing denim shorts and a T-shirt. She’s making Esther look almost respectful.”

  I shook my head at them. “I thought they both had more sense than this. Quinn Ocean must have cast a spell on them when he was last here.”

  “He cast a spell on us all,” a deep voice said in my ear.

  Luca stepped into my view and smiled at me. He continued, “That’s what it feels like anyway. Everyone changes when Quinn’s around.” He planted a soft kiss on my cheek. “You look as beautiful as ever, Cassia.” He picked Stanley up and cuddled him. “You get more distinguished looking every time I see you.”

  Stanley chuckled. “You are funny.”

  Luca was a guardian of this town. And a shapeshifter too. I looked into his lovely blue eyes. He was also my boyfriend.

  I jerked my thumb in Gran and Blythe’s direction and said, “Have you seen those two? They’ve used magic on themselves to look younger. What’s so special about Quinn Ocean to make them behave this way?”

  “You’ll see. He has this way about him. He tells the most magnificent stories. They make you feel as if you’re there with him. And when you talk to him, he makes you feel like you’re the most important being around.” Luca gazed into the distance. It was the same look I’d seen on Gran in the kitchen.

  I nudged Luca. “Has he got you under his spell too?”

  Luca came out of his d
aze. “Quinn doesn’t actually cast a spell. He doesn’t need to. His personality is sparkling enough. You’ll fall for his charms soon enough.”

  I folded my arms. “I doubt it.”

  “You’ll change your mind,” Luca said.

  There was a shift in the atmosphere and several residents began to scream ecstatically. A gnome at my side gasped and slithered to the ground in a happy faint. The band broke into a celebratory tune and a choir of werewolves began to sing in deep harmony.

  Luca put Stanley in my arms and said, “I have to get closer to Quinn! I can see him coming!” He dashed away.

  “That was rude,” Stanley said. “I was about to have a nap in his arms.”

  “It feels like we’re in a parallel universe, Stanley. One where everyone has left their good sense at home.” Something caught my eye from a building across the square. “Did you see that? I thought I saw something moving on the roof over there.”

  Stanley looked left and right. “Where? I can’t see anything.”

  “It was probably a stray balloon.”

  There was a sudden hush and all eyes looked skywards.

  A dark cloud came racing across the sky and towards the town. I looked closer at the cloud. It wasn’t a normal cloud. It was made up of something.

  I pulled Stanley closer and said to him, “Look at that. It’s a cloud of black butterflies. I’ve never seen black ones before.”

  “Me neither. They’ve arranged themselves into the shape of a chariot. Who’s that sitting in the chariot?”

  The butterflies flew closer and began to descend. A small man-shaped being peered out of the chariot. He raised his hand in greeting.

  The residents of Brimstone erupted in deafening cheers and applause.

  I said to Stanley, “It must be Quinn Ocean.”

  The chariot hovered a few inches above the grass in front of the gazebo. The being inside stepped out, opened his arms and bowed regally.

  The cheers and applause increased in volume.

  “My ears!” Stanley said. He put his paws over his ears. “Do they have to be so loud?”

  We took a good look at Quinn Ocean who was beaming at the crowd.