by Elle Adams
“But Mina Devlin didn’t choose her,” I said.
“She always has the final say.” She coughed, lifting a stack of books from a chair in the corner. “This is all Harriet’s work, and her preparation for the test. Do you want to take a look at the notes? There might be something useful in there.”
“I’ll take her notes,” said the detective. “Did she come here the evening she died?”
Damn, he was sharp. I hadn’t thought of that, but the former healer nodded.
“She paid me a visit early that evening,” she said. “She came to me for advice on repealing the coven’s decision to appoint Cathy as the healer and not her. I told her there was nothing I could do. Regardless of her performance in the examination, the council held a vote, and that was that.”
“What kind of mood was she in?” asked the detective. “It sounds like she had a rough week with the breakdown of her relationship as well.”
“Oh, she took the disappointment in stride,” she said. “I think she was angrier over losing out on the position of coven healer, though I don’t know the details of her relationship with the werewolf. It didn’t seem like a priority to her, not compared to the test.”
“Whereabouts did she go after she left your shop that evening, do you know?” I asked. “Because we wondered if she might have been on her way to meet someone on the other side of the river.”
“It’s possible, but she didn’t tell me,” she said. “I was under the impression she was going home after she saw me. I closed the shop not long after and retired to bed. That was the last I saw of her.” She coughed, her eyes watering.
“Did you talk about anything else?” I asked.
“Well… let me think,” she said. “We discussed the coven. She made it clear she planned to leave altogether after she failed to get the position and there was clearly no repealing it. She didn’t care for Mina’s favouritism.”
I frowned. “How long has Mina been coven leader?”
“A long time,” said Angie. “I remember a time when she wasn’t in charge, but I’m one of the few that does. She took over after the floods claimed the lives of some of our best witches two decades ago.”
The floods again. They’d shaped the town, both in obvious ways and not-so-obvious ones. That meant Mina had led the coven for at least twenty years. A long stretch for a coven leader. Not unheard of, especially in a small community like this one, but I had an inkling something more was at work here.
“Was that when she passed the law saying there could only be one coven?” I queried.
“It’s never exactly been enshrined in law, but there are too few of us to form more than one effective coven, compared to other magical communities,” she said. “We have to stick together.”
“Doesn’t sound like that’s always been the case,” I said, thinking of Hayley, and what she’d said about her mother. Not to mention Harriet and how she’d been denied her dream job just because Mina had already chosen who she wanted to be the coven’s healer. I didn’t blame her for leaving.
But I didn’t think she’d died by accident or by her own hand, either.
“Thanks for answering our questions,” said Drew. “Is Cathy at work now?”
“You want to question her, do you?” asked Angie. “Yes, she’s at the hospital, but be careful about disturbing her in the middle of a shift. She’s under a lot of pressure, as you might imagine.”
“Thanks for your help,” said Drew.
The detective and I left the apothecary and walked on in silence until we came to the hospital, a tall brick building with bright flowers lining each window. Drew and I entered a waiting room full of paranormals in varying degrees of distress, and I waylaid the first nurse I saw.
“Hey,” I said. “Is Cathy here?”
“She’s working,” she said.
“We need to talk to her,” said the detective. “It’s to do with an active investigation. We won’t keep her for long.”
“Cathy!” she bellowed. “The police are here.”
Someone swore at full volume from close by, making everyone in the waiting room jump. Bemused, we followed the sound of exclamations through a door to a room where a witch sat surrounded by bubbling cauldrons. Her frizzy hair stuck out at all angles and her glasses were steamed up from the smoke billowing around her head.
“Who are you?” she asked. “Need a healer?”
“Not exactly,” I said.
“Then shoo. I have patients to deal with.”
Detective Drew stepped into view. “We’re looking into the death of Harriet Langley. I heard you and she were rivals for the position of coven healer.”
Her eyes widened. “Someone named me as a suspect? I was here at the hospital when she died.”
That would be easy enough to verify, no doubt, but her name had come up more than once in connection to Harriet’s demise. Given their supposed rivalry, I had to listen to her side of the story if I wanted to make sense of the last week’s events.
Drew stepped in. “That said, we’d appreciate it if you give us a few minutes of your time.”
“Fine. Ask away.” She took a seat. Residue from potion ingredients stained her fingers and dark circles hung under her eyes. “We had an outbreak of a flu virus at the academy a week ago. I’ve been rushed off my feet ever since.”
“I’m surprised you found time to take the tests to be promoted to coven healer,” I remarked.
“I didn’t,” she said. “I couldn’t even make it to my own ceremony and took the healer’s test from here at the hospital. Mina wasn’t pleased, but I can’t be in two places at once.”
“Have you seen Angie lately, then?” I asked. “I gathered Harriet spent a lot of time with her.”
“Of course she did,” she said. “Harriet saved up all her leave so she could take most of the last couple of weeks off to study for the test. Some of us had to stay at work.”
“Then when did you hear about her death?”
“The next day.” She yawned. “Anyway, I’d ask Harriet to back me up, but I don’t know whereabouts she went.”
“What?” I frowned. “You don’t mean her ghost?”
“I thought you knew,” she said. “You can see them, right? Not many witches in the coven can, but she knew I could, so she came straight here after her death to tell me I shouldn’t have got the job. It’s downright distracting to have a ghost telling you off, I can tell you that much.”
Well. That changes things. “Believe me, I get that. Is she still here?”
“How would I know?” she said. “I’ve been on night shifts all week and sleeping during the day. I haven’t been watching out for ghosts. All she did was follow me around telling me I’m inadequate.”
“That’s all?” said Drew.
“Yeah, she was relentless,” she said. “At first she didn’t seem to know she was dead. Then she went into a kind of existential crisis and wandered off somewhere to reflect on life and death.”
“Really?” I asked. “She didn’t say anything about how she died. Didn’t you ask her?”
“It was more of a one-sided conversation,” she said. “I’m not sure she could even hear me. Anyway, she took off and I haven’t seen her since.”
“Do you know where she might have gone?” I asked. “Because so far, I haven’t seen any signs of her.”
She shrugged. “I thought she was going to haunt me for weeks. I won’t complain if she doesn’t, but it wouldn’t surprise me if someone banished her to get her off their hands.”
“Banished her?” Only people who could actually see ghosts would stand a chance of banishing her, not if they didn’t know where she was hiding. “Like who?”
“Like her ex’s new partner, for instance,” she said. “I assumed she went to haunt them both after she finished haunting me.”
“Lisa can see ghosts?” I asked.
“Sure,” she said. “I thought Harriet went to terrorise her. Or Mina, but she can’t see ghosts herself, so there
wouldn’t be much point.”
Huh. I hadn’t asked Lisa if she could see ghosts, but maybe I should have done. Both she and Maxwell would have good reason to want to get rid of Harriet’s roaming spirit.
“Thanks for speaking to us,” said the detective. “I’ll let you know if I need anything else from you.”
The two of us left the hospital, while Cathy returned to stirring potions and swearing under her breath.
“What do you think?” asked Drew. “It does sound like Cathy was telling the truth. She certainly had a solid alibi for the time of Harriet’s death. We can confirm with any of the other staff here.”
“Yeah, but if Harriet’s ghost was around, you’d think she’d have checked on her ex,” I said. “Or at least gone home to stop him from stealing any of her stuff. That’s what I’d have done.”
He arched a brow. “Oh? Anyone in particular you’d want to haunt?”
“None of my exes are worth the attention, but I’d rather choose who gets to keep my stuff after I die.” Too late, I remembered who I was talking to, and felt a flush creep up my face. “I’m not planning on dying anytime soon, besides. I think it’s worth checking with Lisa to see if Cathy’s claim holds up.”
Unless Cathy had been less than truthful, that is, but I didn’t see why she’d have reason to lie about being visited by Harriet’s ghost. She clearly had a lot going on.
“I think we should talk to Maxwell again, too,” he said. “He might not be able to see her ghost, but if we tell him that Cathy did, it might be a way to gauge his reaction to her sticking around after her death.”
“Good thinking.” I slowed my pace, noting that we were closer to Harriet’s old house than Maxwell and Lisa’s place. “If Harriet’s ghost ran off recently, she might have gone back home after all. I think we should check the house again.”
He nodded. “All right. I still have the key.”
We walked the short distance to Harriet’s house, where the detective unlocked the front door. Someone had removed most of the plants from the windowsills, perhaps her family, though her house still held a somewhat lived-in look despite the boxes scattered around the hallway.
“Has her family been here?” I asked.
“They have,” he said. “The notes from Angie’s shop will be more useful as evidence than anything here, I think, given how much of the last few weeks she spent there.”
I went upstairs first. No signs of any hiding ex-boyfriends this time around—nor any ghosts, either. I paced around the room, then closed my eyes, as though it would help me to access my Reaper senses.
“What are you doing?” asked Drew.
“Seeing if I can sense her ghost using my Reaper skills.” I opened my eyes. “Can’t sense her in here, though.”
“Is there another way for you to track a specific ghost?” he asked.
I should have expected that question… and it was starting to seem like the only remaining option. “It’s do-able, but I haven’t tried doing that for years. If I want to pull it off, I need something of hers. Something important to her. Like I could work with a childhood toy, or something she had strong emotions attached to.”
“Will this do?” Drew held up a rumpled photo of her and Maxwell. That would have strong feelings attached to it, I had no doubt.
“That works.” I took it from him and held it up, and let shadows unfold around me, my attention focused on the photo.
A faint gasp from Drew made me lower my gaze. Oops. I’d accidentally flooded the whole room with shadows, pulling the detective with me halfway into the afterlife.
“What are you doing?” Drew’s eyes widened, taking in the sight of the blanket of shadows which had replaced the floor.
“Ah.” Flustered, I tried to pull the shadows back, and a sudden tugging sensation gripped the photo in my hand. “This is just the afterworld. Nothing can harm you here.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” A hint of a growl filled his voice, but I was too focused on the photo to figure out how to deal with that. The tugging sensation pulled me towards… a door.
Damn. My Reaper senses had hit a dead end. She wasn’t here. In Hawkwood Hollow… or anywhere else. Not in the land of the living, anyway.
I let the shadows fold outwards until the house returned to normal. Drew met my eyes. “That was…”
“An accident,” I said. “Sorry. I don’t make a habit of yanking living people with me into the afterlife.” In fact, the only other time I’d done it had been when Carey and I had been stuck in Mrs Renner’s house, and I’d been forced to use the shadows to stop us from falling through the floor when the house collapsed.
“I gathered,” he said. “What did you see?”
He was taking this pretty well. I knew the afterlife was terrifying to outsiders—and some Reapers, come to that—but he still seemed composed. Didn’t make me less inclined to feel like I ought to hop over to the other side for a bit and hide out of sheer embarrassment.
“Nothing,” I said. “She’s gone.”
“How?” he asked. “Was she banished by another Reaper?”
“Unlikely,” I said. “It’s possible she moved on by herself. Not likely, considering how ghost-friendly this town is, but the only other possibility is that someone else in town banished her ghost on purpose.”
“Why?” he asked. “Because they wanted to ensure she didn’t talk?”
“Precisely my thinking,” I said. “I’ve yet to find anyone aside from Cathy in the coven who can actually see ghosts. Oh… and Lisa. But she’s not part of the coven.”
Who was the more likely culprit of the pair of them? We’d already questioned Cathy thoroughly, but perhaps Lisa had felt threatened by Harriet’s ghost’s presence in her new life. Or maybe neither of them had done it.
Whoever was responsible, banishing a spirit in a town like this didn’t strike me as a decision taken lightly. Either the culprit didn’t want her to haunt them—or they didn’t want the truth to get out about Harriet’s death.
In other words, they didn’t want the ghost to come to me.
It was a stretch, I admitted, but I’d acquired something of a reputation since the incident with Mrs Renner and it seemed like the whole coven knew I was half-Reaper. Judging by the snide comments I’d faced at the coven meeting, I assumed that was the case, anyway.
Regardless, someone had banished Harriet’s ghost. Someone who didn’t want a Reaper getting involved in the investigation, perhaps. That might be paranoid of me, but so few people could even see or speak to ghosts that it was hard for me to discount the possibility.
It might not be personal… but I couldn’t afford to take that chance.
I turned to Drew. “I think we should have a word with the coven leader again. I wonder what she’ll have to say about the ghost’s disappearance?”
8
The universe had other plans, however. Firstly, Mina Devlin didn’t answer when I knocked on her office door. A new sign affixed to the wooden surface said her office hours were between ten and four, which hadn’t been there the last time we’d been here. Now that was a rebuff if I ever saw one.
“What’s the betting she put that thing up just to get rid of me?” I remarked.
“That’s not professional of her, if it’s true,” said Drew.
“She’s coven leader, so she gets to do whatever she likes,” I said. “I guess asking her who might have banished Harriet’s ghost is off the table, unless we go to her home address.”
No chance. She’d probably hex us into oblivion if we disturbed her at home.
The detective paused for an instant. “Would the Reaper be able to tell who banished her? He might have seen her ghost himself.”
I frowned. “I guess it’s worth asking, but if it was a magical banishment with no need for a Reaper, he probably wasn’t paying any attention.”
Still… he had a point. The retired Reaper must know about Harriet’s death. Maybe he knew where her ghost had gone, too. The guy might not
want to do his job, but that didn’t change the fact that the dead gathered wherever he went. We had that much in common.
The detective and I walked towards the town’s cemetery. The Reaper lived in a cottage at the foot of the hill, bizarrely numbered 42 for reasons I hadn’t yet figured out. What he’d been doing with his time since his retirement twenty years earlier, I hadn’t a clue. At least the detective was with me, which made him less likely to slam the door in my face.
“What?” growled the Reaper’s voice when I knocked.
“It’s Maura,” I said. “I wanted to ask you a question. About a ghost.”
The door didn’t open. “If you want me to get rid of that brother of yours, do it yourself.”
“That’s not what this is about,” I said indignantly. “Detective Drew is with me. We’re looking into a recent case of a witch who died in suspicious circumstances, and we believe someone banished her ghost to stop us from getting to the truth.”
“I don’t banish ghosts anymore,” he growled. “I’m retired.”
“I’m not accusing you of doing the banishing, but I’d appreciate your help so I can figure out who did.”
The door wrenched open and Harold the Reaper appeared, affording me a view of his dingy cottage. Including his scythe, leaning against the wall, from which he’d hung a dozen cloaks. Guess that answered the question of whether my arrival in town had inspired him to take up Reaping again. His grey hair hung around his face, while his face was twisted in a perpetual scowl. Right now, it was directed at Drew as much as it was me.
“You’ve managed to solve all your homicide cases until now without getting me involved, Detective,” he said. “I’m sure you can handle this one, too.”
I stepped in. “Look, we just wanted to ask if you’ve seen Harriet’s ghost.”
“She drowned in the river earlier this week,” said Drew. “I believed her death was an accident, but we recently learned that her ghost was seen haunting a rival of hers. The ghost has since vanished.”