Spell Found (Blackmoore Sisters Cozy Mysteries Book 7)

by Leighann Dobbs

  “So what do we do now?” Fiona wanted to tap Morgan’s intuition as to how to proceed. She hoped would include a single serving chocolate chip with jimmies in a waffle cone. “It says to follow the source, but the source—Amity Jones—is dead.”

  “That’s a good question. I think we need to find out what this Amity Jones was up to. Maybe we can figure out if she was working with someone and question them.”

  Fiona watched a motorcycle whiz by, the sunlight glinting off the rider’s black helmet. She shut the truck off and opened her door. “Good thinking, and I know just the person who can figure that out … after we get an ice cream.”

  2

  It took a little over an hour to get from Freeport to the girls’ home town of Noquitt, Maine. Fiona always loved the feeling of pulling up to their giant seaside mansion, a palatial home that had been built three hundred years ago by one of their ancestors. The house which stood three stories high sat on a picturesque point of land that bordered the Atlantic Ocean on one side and a channel leading to the quaint Perkins Cove on the other.

  The sweet smell of baking drew them from the oak foyer down the hall and into the black and white tiled kitchen. It warmed her heart to see her mother, Johanna Blackmoore, removing a tray of golden brown cookies from the oven. A little over a year ago, Johanna had been so ill that she’d been reduced to a shadow of her former self, unable to get around without the aid of a wheelchair. Seeing her standing in the kitchen making cookies assured Fiona that her mother was, indeed, recovering nicely.

  “Meow.” Belladonna, the family cat trotted out to greet them. Her luxurious white fur looked freshly groomed. She sniffed the hem of Morgan’s jeans, then the heel of Fiona’s sandal before peering up at them disdainfully with her ice blue eyes. She flicked her tail and trotted off into the sitting room.

  “What’s with her?” Morgan asked.

  Johanna shrugged. “Probably mad you didn’t bring her something.”

  “Did you bring me something?” Their youngest sister, Jolene, poked her head in from the sitting room. Her wavy brunette hair was tied back in a ponytail. Her ice blue eyes—a Blackmoore family trait and, therefore, exact replicas of Morgan, Fiona and Celeste’s—sparkled with excitement.

  They’d called ahead to tell her about finding the keystone and to arrange a family meeting. Jolene was a whiz with the computer and it fell on her to do any computer research associated with the girls’ extracurricular paranormal exploits. If there was a lead to be followed up concerning Amity Jones, Jolene would find it.

  “No, we didn’t bring you anything. We went straight to the shop, picked up the crystal and headed straight home,” Fiona said.

  Jolene leaned against the doorjamb, her arms folded across her chest. “Really? Then what’s that on your shirt?” Jolene squinted at an area near Fiona’s stomach.

  Fiona looked down to see a brown stain marring her lavender cotton tee shirt. “Jimmies, I guess.”

  Jolene looked incredulous. “You had ice cream and didn’t bring me any?”

  “It would have melted.”

  “Uh-huh. I’m gonna remember that.” Jolene pushed off from the doorjamb and returned to the sitting room. “Come on in here. I’ve looked up Amity Jones. It seems she was quite a big collector of crystals and rocks.”

  “Did you find anything to indicate that she might be someone who would have an ancient energy infused relic?” Morgan asked.

  “There are some rumors that she had mystical powers and she did live in Salem, Mass.”

  Johanna appeared in the doorway, balancing her cane in one hand and a plate of cookies in the other. “Salem has long been thought to be a center of paranormal activity.”

  “That’s right. People mistook paranormal activity for witchcraft.” Morgan shot her mother a warning look.

  Johanna knew she wasn’t supposed to be tottering around without the full use of her cane. Fiona took the tray of cookies and helped Johanna to the white linen slip-covered couch despite her mother’s efforts to shoo her away.

  “We all know there’s no such thing as witches,” Celeste called out from the hallway shortly before appearing in the doorway, her short-cropped, blonde hair spiked up as if she’d been running her hands through it … or standing on her head which Fiona figured was more likely, considering her sister's love of yoga.

  “We do?” Johanna asked. “How do we know that?”

  Morgan laughed. “Well, our gifts are out of the ordinary, but we don’t use spells or charms or even ride on broomsticks.”

  “We don’t,” Johanna said. “But maybe other people do. Who’s to say others don’t have unique gifts that are similar to the traditional ones that people associate with witches?”

  Fiona frowned. “Have you ever seen anyone actually cast a spell or ride a broomstick?”

  “Or turn someone into a bat?” Jolene added.

  “No.”

  “But you’ve seen plenty of people with paranormal powers,” Fiona said. “People that can see ghosts, like Celeste. People that can bend energy like Jolene or enhance crystals like I can, or that have a way with herbs and uncanny intuition like Morgan. I think what really happened back then is that people didn’t understand paranormal abilities, and they persecuted those who had them.”

  “Or people that didn’t even have paranormal abilities were persecuted because someone either didn’t like them or wanted them out of the way. But that’s not really our concern right now. Right now, we need to figure out what, exactly, this ‘key’ stone is trying to tell us and where we should go to find out,” Jolene said. “Speaking of which, let’s see this thing.”

  Fiona removed the stone from its box and held it out for them all to look at. Under the interior lighting it glowed red and purple. She crossed to the window with its panoramic view of the ocean and held the stone up, watching it change to green and blue.

  “That’s beautiful,” Jolene said.

  “Did Luke say any more about exactly what it is we’re looking for?” Celeste asked Morgan. Luke was Morgan’s boyfriend and worked for Dorian Hall.

  Morgan shook her head.

  “What about Dorian Hall?” Jolene leaned over to look toward the kitchen. Dorian had been known to suddenly appear mysteriously at their front door. No one would be surprised if she walked in right now with further instructions. Actually, it would be nice if she did. They could use another lead.

  “She didn’t say anything more. Just what was in the note, and that she heard Dr. Bly was after the relic and it was extremely important that we find it.” Morgan got up from the overstuffed chair, dumping Belladonna on the floor making the cat let out a wail of disapproval before trotting over to Johanna and jumping into her lap.

  “Dorian thinks everything she wants is extremely important,” Fiona said.

  “It usually is,” Celeste pointed out.

  “Especially when it has to do with Bly,” Johanna chimed in.

  “Meyess!” Belladonna added.

  Morgan reached around Jolene and opened the desk drawer. She pulled out the cryptic note and placed it on the surface of the desk. They all leaned forward to look at the paper. Even Belladonna rousted herself from Johanna’s lap and leapt silently onto the desk, pushing at the paper with her paw, setting it off-kilter.

  Jolene straightened the paper.

  Belladonna pushed it again.

  Jolene slid the paper away from the cat and read the note aloud, “The key stone that is emerald by day and ruby by night will unlock the path to viewing the future - at the source of the stone you will find the first clue.”

  “We know the key stone that is ruby at night and emerald during the day is the alexandrite gemstone you have in your hand,” Morgan said to Fiona.

  “Right. So what do you think it means by ‘will unlock the path to viewing the future’?” Fiona asked.

  Morgan shrugged. “Must be the path to finding the relic I guess.”

  “At the source of the stone you’ll find the first clue
.” Jolene pressed her lips together. “That is the part that’s confusing. How do we know where the source of the stone is?”

  “I think our best bet for that is the collector,” Morgan said. “Amity Jones.”

  “But she’s dead,” Jolene said. “What about this shop in Freeport where you got the stone?”

  Morgan shook her head. “My gut instinct is that we need to follow the trail from Amity Jones. I did get kind of a strange vibe from the shop owner, Cassiopeia, but I don’t think that is where we need to look.”

  Jolene sat at the desk and opened the laptop. “I’ve taken the liberty of researching into this Amity Jones. She died a few months ago. Her next of kin is a niece who has been handling the estate, a Nancy Baumann.”

  “Maybe she knows something?” Celeste suggested.

  “Or maybe there are other items in the estate that might be clues. I say we go out there and see what we can find out,” Fiona said.

  “Meow!” Belladonna nodded her head.

  Morgan checked her watch. “That sounds like a good idea. If we leave now, we can be settled at a hotel just before dinner. Maybe we can make an appointment to go out to the house. Between Jolene’s insight into auras and energy, and my intuition, we might pick up on something.”

  “Maybe we’ll luck out and Amity’s ghost will show up and tell us exactly what we need to know,” Celeste said.

  “Sounds good.” Fiona turned to Johanna. “You’ll be okay here at home alone?”

  Johanna made a face. “Of course. I stayed here alone plenty of times before you girls were born. I’m not an old lady who needs constant care, you know.”

  “Merow!” Belladonna looked up at them expectantly.

  “I don’t think she will be okay staying at home, though,” Johanna added, nodding toward the cat.

  “Good point.” Morgan said. “We’d better find a hotel that takes cats. You know how Belladonna can be when we leave her behind.”

  Fiona scowled at the cat. “I sure do. The last time we left her behind, I came home to find my charm bracelet on the floor and my favorite goldfish charm missing.”

  “She loves to play with shiny things. She probably batted the charms around. Did you check in the cracks of the old floor boards and under your bureau?” Celeste asked.

  Fiona looked at the cat that looked back innocently. “I looked everywhere and couldn’t find it.”

  “Well, it must be somewhere,” Morgan said. “It didn’t just disappear.”

  “No, I’m sure it didn’t.” Fiona narrowed her eyes at Belladonna. “I’m pretty sure she ate it.”

  Belladonna narrowed her eyes at Fiona then let out a not-so-innocent belch, “Murp.” She hopped off the desk and trotted out of the room.

  3

  Salem, Massachusetts, a beautiful seaside town, filled with old colonial homes and steeped in history, was the site of the infamous witch trials of 1692, but the town had been around a lot longer than that. Located on the North Shore of Massachusetts, its position at the mouth of a natural bay made it one of the most important seaports in early America.

  The girls had scoured the internet and found a comfortable hotel in a historic brick home with a view of the Salem waterfront, which was at the end of the street. They booked a suite at Craig's Hotel, one with a common area, kitchenette and adjoining rooms, as was the custom when they were out on a job.

  Jolene was glad when Morgan finally stopped their SUV in front of the hotel, so she would no longer have to listen to the constant whining coming from the cat carrier.

  “Sorry, Buddy, we have to keep you in this crate. You know how hotel people are.” Celeste rubbed Belladonna’s forehead through the mesh webbing at the front of the canvas cat carrier.

  “Merough!”

  “Yes, it is tough, but they do expect you to be in a carrier and crated in the room. If they know you are going to be running about willy-nilly, they’ll never rent to us.”

  “Murpp.”

  “It won’t be that long.”

  Morgan twisted in the driver's seat to peer in the carrier. “Perhaps we should actually keep her confined to the crate like we promised the hotel owner. Though I doubt that would keep her from getting into trouble.”

  Belladonna had a way of turning up in the strangest places. The sisters didn’t know how it happened. The places she appeared were usually too far for her to get to on her own. It was simply one of the many mysterious things the girls had come to accept as normal when it came to their cat.

  “Let’s get settled.” Jolene hopped out of the SUV and popped the tailgate open. The sound of a motorcycle whizzing by caught her attention. “Hey, is that Mateo?”

  It was impossible to tell. The motorcycle was now too far away and the driver had a helmet on. But what Jolene could tell was that there was a slim woman on the back, her long dark hair flying out from beneath her helmet. Mateo with a woman? Jolene turned around to find Morgan smirking at her.

  “Jealous?” Morgan teased.

  “No.” Jolene’s cheeks heated as something sharp stabbed her heart. Indigestion? Certainly not jealousy. She didn’t have anything going on with Mateo … well, except for that electrifying kiss they’d shared on Thanksgiving. And those fluttery feelings she always had when he was around.

  Mateo was a nomad who came and went like the wind. Even though he always seemed to show up when she needed him most, he wasn’t reliable boyfriend material. Not that Jolene was even in the market for a boyfriend. She preferred to be on her own. She hefted her overnight bag onto her shoulder, picked up the cat carrier and proceeded into the hotel.

  The lobby was decorated in pale yellow with white trim. Antique paintings in gold frames lined the walls. A welcoming fire burned in the marble-surrounded fireplace despite the fact that it was almost the end of June and quite warm out. Antique furniture sat atop jewel-toned oriental rugs. The desk was made from quarter-sawn oak, polished to a honey gold shine.

  A middle-aged man, plump around the waist and wearing black-rimmed glasses, smiled as Jolene approached.

  “Hi. We reserved a suite. Blackmoore.”

  “Meow.”

  His smile faded as his gaze drifted from Jolene’s face to the cat carrier. “Right. The people with the cat.” He looked over her shoulder as Morgan, Celeste and Fiona entered the lobby. “Do you have a proper crate? We require the cat be kept in a crate if you're out, with their cat box.”

  “Yes,” Jolene assured him. “It’s all in the car. We’ll bring it up once we get settled.”

  “Harrumph. Very well, then.” He typed on the computer then dug under the desk and came out with two cards. “We only give out two keys.”

  “That’s fine. We usually go everywhere together anyway.” Jolene grabbed the keys and turned away from the desk.

  “Top of the stairs and to the right,” the man called after her.

  Their rooms were decorated with antiques, similar to the lobby, with four-poster beds and fireplaces in every room. Comfortable antique reproduction furniture was in the common area. A small kitchenette took up one corner of the room and there was a small table where Jolene set up her laptop. The room was quaint, with wide floorboards that creaked when they walked on them. There was a slightly musty smell of old books wafting out from the many book shelves that were in every nook and cranny. It was air-conditioned, but stuffy.

  Morgan opened a window to let some air in. A soft, lulling swish of traffic filled the room along with the faint smell of the sea.

  “I’m starving,” Fiona said.

  Jolene’s stomach growled. “It is supper time.”

  “We can get something after we call Nancy Baumann.” Morgan made the call and put her cellphone on speaker, the sound of ringing filling the room.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Nancy? My name is Morgan Blackmoore. I recently bought some crystals and gemstones that came from your aunt’s estate. I was wondering if she had any more that you hadn’t yet sold off?”

  “You mean th
ose rocks? No, I didn’t find any others in her belongings.”

  Morgan’s shoulders sagged with disappointment. “Do you still have a lot of her stuff left? My sisters and I are avid collectors and would like to know more about the rocks. Especially if she kept records on how she obtained them …”

  “Records? Yes, she had journals and whatnot. Should I have saved them? They were just old scribblings, so I tossed them.”

  “You threw them out?”

  “Couple of months ago. All that’s left now in the house is some furniture and kitchenware. Are you interested in any of that?”

  “Maybe. We were mostly interested in the rocks, though. Or anything that has to do with them.” Morgan would use any excuse to get into the house. The sisters never knew when they might pick up an energy trail or run into a helpful ghost.

  “Well, there are a few old boxes in the attic. I don't know what's in there, but I can get those down if you’d like to look at them.”

  Morgan raised her brows at her sisters, who all nodded enthusiastically. “We would love that.”

  “Okay. Well, I’m not going back over tonight. What do you say we meet tomorrow around ten?”

  “Sounds perfect.” Morgan wrote down the address the woman provided then snapped the phone shut.

  “Well, it’s disappointing that she didn’t keep those journals and doesn’t have any other stones, but maybe we'll see something at her house that helps us out,” Celeste said.

  "Maybe there's something in those boxes," Jolene suggested.

  “It would be helpful if we knew what we were looking for,” Fiona added.

  “Mew!” Belladonna hopped up onto the windowsill and blinked out the window.

  Scratch, scratch. Clank.

  “Is something outside the window?” Morgan’s face turned serious.

  Jolene knew what that meant: Morgan’s intuition was kicking in. Jolene bolted to the window and ripped the curtain aside. No one was there.

  “Nothing?” Morgan asked.

  Jolene pushed up the window and leaned out to look down. They were on the second floor. A black wrought iron fire escape wound its way up the building beside the window. Below, was a narrow alley with an opening at each end. “Maybe someone was cutting through the alley.”