Seven Pets for Seven Witches

by Annabel Chase

  “What do you mean?”

  Lily’s eyebrow inched up. “Midge seemed really jumpy over a little book, didn’t she? Wouldn’t you just buy another one?”

  “It was limited edition,” I said. “Plus, I think she’s just embarrassed.”

  “But what if…what if it’s more than that?” Lily asked with a frown. “What if there was something inside the book?”

  I glanced over my shoulder, but Midge was quietly looking over some log books at the front desk. “Are you saying you think Midge is leaving out information?”

  Lily leaned in closer, her eyes narrowed. “I’m just saying…there are only so many people here, and I’m not seeing a ton of motivation for someone to nab a magical spellbook for dummies.”

  I considered this, but I shook my head. “I don’t see Midge’s incentive to lie.”

  “I’m not saying she did, I’m just saying…think about it.”

  Lily straightened then, and in the next second, I felt someone’s presence behind me.

  “How’s it going, ladies?” Midge took a step closer to our small pow wow, leaning in as if to join a gossip circle. “Got anything yet?”

  My eyes flashed over her head to Lily, and I gave a subtle shake. “Not yet, but we’ll keep looking.”

  “Great,” she said, clasping her hands together in front of her body. “I’ll grab some of my famous cookies from the kitchen and heat water for tea to tide us over. Chef should be coming in any minute to start on dinner. Questioning suspects on an empty stomach can’t be good.”

  As Midge hustled off to the kitchen, Lily leaned in and whispered. “Think about it.”

  I considered it as I moved toward my next suspect. As much as I didn’t want to find a thief here on The Isle, it would be even worse to discover that Midge—the islander who we’d all come to know and love—had some other agenda.

  As I sat down across the table from my latest candidate, I cleared my throat and met his gaze, sizing him up.

  Chapter 3

  “Business or pleasure?” I asked again. “What are the reasons for your travels, Dr. Ramshakin?”

  The historian had introduced himself, explaining that he collected and analyzed rare books for a living. Already, my hackles were on high alert. Maybe this silly little spellbook that Midge had discovered was worth a lot more than she thought.

  Enough for a historian to steal it, I wondered? Of anyone we’d interviewed, the collector of old books had the most motivation to take the book—even though I couldn’t imagine why he would resort to stealing. If anyone discovered he’d stolen the book, surely his reputation would be tarnished and the book would be near impossible to sell.

  Dr. Ramshakin peered through circular frames, his eyes enlarged thanks to the thick lenses of his glasses. “Is there really a difference?”

  I scratched my head. “Yes, there is. For example, I came here on vacation.”

  “Yes, but you appear to be working.”

  I bit my tongue on a response. The historian had been twisting my words around for the last twenty minutes, and I’d barely been able to glean a fact from him aside from his name. And even then, he hadn’t given me his first name.

  “Right, but the purpose of my trip was pleasure,” I replied. “If I’d come here specifically to work, then I’d be on a business trip.”

  “If you came here for pleasure and ended up working, wouldn’t there still be business on your trip?” Dr. Ramshakin asked. “I’m merely pointing out that the answer to your question isn’t black and white.”

  “What were your intentions,” I said through gritted teeth, “when you left on this trip?”

  “That’s not a fair question, either. I know how your lot work,” he said, his eyes blinking once. “You ask deliberately misleading questions in an effort to entrap me in a lie. Well, I won’t answer your questions unless they’re clear.”

  “Did you come here to have fun?!” I asked, my voice raising as I took out my badge and set it on the table. “Or did your work specifically ask you to come here for their purposes?”

  “I suppose neither,” he said, shifting in his seat, his eyes locked on the badge. “I didn’t come here for fun. I came here to work, but not for work.”

  “You’re going to have to be more specific,” I said, “because you’re not making sense, and there’s a theft I’m looking into here. If you don’t help me out, I’m going to start thinking you had something to do with it. Do you want to know what MAGIC, Inc. does with criminals?”

  “I came here to work—for myself,” he said. “I’m working on a project outside of the normal curriculum. Therefore, I suppose the answer to your question would be that I came here for pleasure. However, to me, it’s still work.”

  “A hobby?”

  “A theory,” he said, sinking into a more conversational tone as his eyes lit up. “I’m trying to collect a full library of historical spellbooks. Once I have the collection, I’ll be able to present it around the world, sell it to the highest bidder—whatever I want.”

  “What sort of collection?”

  “Spellbooks,” he repeated. “The first of their kind.”

  “What sort of spellbooks?”

  “Early ones,” he said. “Ones with limited edition runs where most of the copies were destroyed in wars. Pre-war spellbooks are becoming more rare by the day.”

  “Get out of here!” I muttered, suddenly distracted by four paws that had somehow freed themselves from my room and now pitter-pattered across the table. “Sorry, doctor, not you—this silly cat.”

  “Allow me.” The professor picked up the cat and gave him a few strokes, to which V purred and stretched happily. “Are we done here?”

  “No, I have a few more questions—”

  “Let me clarify,” the professor said. “I’m done here. My sugar levels are low, and I keep snacks in my room. If you must know, that’s where I was at the time of the theft.”

  “How do you know the time of the theft?”

  He blinked, looking startled. “Well, I suppose it was recently, judging by the fact that you’re only interviewing guests who are here now. If not, you’d interview the couple that took off this morning as if they’d seen a ghost.”

  “Don’t go far,” I warned as he stood. “We might have more questions for you.”

  As the historian got up to leave, I put my head down and jotted a few notes onto a napkin. I watched him leave the room, standing tall and dignified, until a voice from behind startled me.

  “Did you get a weird vibe from him, too?” Lily asked, sitting next to me. “Also, whose cat is that?”

  “I don’t know,” I murmured. “I suppose the cat’s here with me, but it’s not by my choice.”

  “I know how that goes,” Lily said with a laugh.

  I laughed too, and it felt good to break the sudden tension that’d seemed to settle over this place. “Did you find anything?”

  “Yeah. A piece of work,” Lily said, huddling closer to me. The dining room was now empty since we had released the guests back to their rooms after their interviews. They were ordered not to leave the premises, save for the coffee shop next door or the lawn out front.

  “The couple?” I asked. “What’s their story?”

  “Apparently they came here hoping for a second honeymoon. But instead, they’ve been arguing like cats and dogs,” she said. “That goes along with what Midge was saying.”

  “She said they had a fight this morning. Do you know what it was about?”

  “She says he’s being an arrogant prick, and he says she won’t stop nagging him.”

  “Do they have an alibi?”

  Lily blew a strand of hair out of her face. “Guess what their story is for the time of the theft?”

  I shrugged. “This is all beyond me.”

  “They were making up,” she said, waiting for the meaning to sink in. When it did, and my eyebrows raised, she nodded. “Right? That’s what I thought. I’m not sure I buy it.”


  “This is so strange,” I said. “Even if they’re having an argument, I don’t see how that equates to motivation to steal a spellbook.”

  “Beats me.” Lily shrugged. “What about the historian?”

  I caught Lily up on Dr. Ramshakin’s oddities, which only ended in more frowning and head scratching on both of our parts.

  “I suppose he has the most motive of all, but again…does he have an alibi?”

  “Low blood sugar,” I said with a roll of my eyes, and then clarified. “He was having a snack in his room.”

  “Okay…well, what’s next?” Lily asked. “We need proof—or, I suppose, ideally we’d get the spellbook back for Midge.”

  “Let’s swap,” I said. “I’ll dig some more on the people you interviewed, and you follow up on mine. Maybe we missed something. Dig into their backgrounds, make phone calls, whatever. Let’s meet back here in an hour.”

  Lily nodded and turned to leave. “Oh, Ainsley—what the heck is that cat of yours doing?”

  V had apparently decided to try and dig a hole through the wall nearest the kitchen. “Get over here, you weirdo,” I said. “We have work to do.”

  I picked up V, and the two of us headed upstairs. I needed some quiet time to think and straighten out my notes. Lily had a point; anyone could’ve done it, including Midge. The real question was why? The spell book must have meant something to someone…so what did it contain that was valuable enough to steal?

  Chapter 4

  Forty minutes later, I waited downstairs for Lily to return. I’d found a few interesting things out from my contacts at MAGIC, Inc., but I needed to run them by Lily before I went around interviewing the guests again.

  Luckily, Lily was on the same page as me. “Guess what I found?” she cried, swinging around the corner before hurrying to join me at the table. “Your little historian wasn’t as honest as you might’ve thought.”

  “Neither is the husband in that honeymoon suite,” I said, waggling my eyebrows. “What’d you come up with?”

  “Guess where the historian is from?” Lily asked, excitedly. “Dr. Ramshakin isn’t his real name. He changed it. Now, he lives in France, but he grew up in Russia and didn’t leave until he was twenty-three years old.”

  “He has a French accent.”

  “Rehearsed,” Lily said. “I’m guessing it sounds better for his studies.”

  “Interesting,” I said. “Go on.”

  “Guess who owns two copies of the same book that was stolen?” Lily didn’t wait for me to guess before she continued. “That’s right, Dr. Ramshakin. If he managed to get his hands on Midge’s book, he’d have all known copies of that edition. He could name his price when he wanted to sell without any competition.”

  “Well, there’s our solid motive right there. Not to mention, an explanation for why he was being so dodgy when I asked about his collection.”

  “Exactly. Now, tell me what you found.”

  “Mr. Husband over in the honeymoon suite has a history of petty crimes. Thefts, trespassing—nothing violent, but there’s a definite slant to his record.”

  “But why take this?” Lily asked. “I mean, it’s one thing to swipe something if there’s an easy value to it—a wallet, or a potion, or something—but a little old book? How would he know if it’s valuable?”

  “Unless...” I raised a finger. “Unless he heard Dr. Ramshakin talking about the book, or his work, or the price tag involved in such work.”

  Lily caught on quickly. “And maybe Mr. Husband figured out that the book was worth something. The doctor obviously wanted it, so if Mr. Husband could get his hands on it first, he could sell it to the doctor at a steep markup.”

  “Cripes,” I said. “Is everyone involved in this thing?”

  “Come on,” Lily said. “For now, we’re sticking together.”

  “Who are we visiting first?”

  Lily’s eyes narrowed. “Let’s pay the doctor a visit.”

  Chapter 5

  “Yes, I am from Russia,” Dr. Ramshakin said, a little more of the accent coming out as he paced his room in frustration. “You don’t need to know every detail of my life. What is this inquisition?”

  “We believe your work is tied to a missing spellbook,” I said. “Would you like to re-vamp some of your answers from before and tell me what brought you here?”

  “A missing spellbook?” He raised his eyebrows with renewed curiosity. “Is that what this is about? Which book are you after?”

  “Can you please answer the question?”

  “I told you; this trip is a mixture of work and...and fun, as you said. For me, there is no difference.”

  “Then we can assume you came here looking for the last book in your set,” I said. “Yes, we know you own two of the three known copies of the Russian pre-war spellbook made for humans.”

  Dr. Ramshakin looked ready to argue, but at the last second, he nodded. “What about my collection?”

  “The third book was stolen today—the very same spellbook that could make you a rich man. It was stolen from the hotel where you’re staying. Are you really saying you can’t see the connection?”

  “The book is here?” The historian flew to his feet. “I must see it—I have been searching for it for months. Years!”

  I eyed Lily in confusion. Either he was a decent actor, or he was legitimately surprised.

  “We don’t have it,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “That’s why we’re here.”

  “I didn’t take it!” Dr. Ramshakin looked to both of us. “Yes, I came to The Isle looking to complete my collection. But I’ve traveled the world before looking for it, and I’ve been wrong about its location numerous times. Are you saying I was finally correct?!”

  “We’re saying maybe you swung by the front desk, happened to glimpse the prize you’ve wanted for so long,” I suggested, walking my fingers through the air. “And then swiped it.”

  “No.” He turned to face us both. “Of course I didn’t—I wouldn’t! The book would make me rich. I can afford to pay for it.”

  I pursed my lips. “Midge wasn’t willing to part with it. So, if she wouldn’t sell it, there’s really only one way for you to acquire it…”

  “I didn’t! I wouldn’t,” he growled. “I—I have an alibi.”

  “Low blood sugar?” I didn’t bother to hide my suspicion. “Eating a snack here, in a room, where nobody else can vouch for your whereabouts?”

  “I came here on a personal trip! I didn’t know I’d be questioned about my whereabouts. If I had, maybe I would’ve eaten in the dining room.”

  “Or maybe you were too busy looking over the spellbook you’d just stumbled upon.”

  “I don’t—I didn’t take anything! You’ve got the wrong man.” Dr. Ramshakin looked thoughtful for a moment. “In fact, I can prove it.”

  “You can?” Lily asked, surprised. “Why didn’t you say so earlier?”

  Looking miffed, Dr. Ramshakin moved over to his desk. “It’s not a perfect alibi, but you can see here…the ink is fresh. I was writing a letter to a colleague about this very book while eating my snack. You can look for yourself.”

  Dr. Ramshakin picked up the letter and looked at it, reading it aloud as he scanned it over. “...would be very valuable to me. I came here after following the trail for the third book. This manuscript is believed to be on The Isle, and therefore, I will be staying here until I confirm its existence.”

  Lily face shadowed, and she hesitated, perturbed. “Did anyone see this letter?”

  “Why would it matter?” he asked, confused. “I was writing it during the time of the theft.”

  I looked to Lily, but I didn’t comment aloud. The swiping of the book would’ve taken all but a few seconds. If someone had caught wind of the book’s worth and popped downstairs to peek around, finding the lobby empty to their immense good fortune and the book in question sitting out behind the podium, it might have been possible. Far-fetched, maybe, but possible.

 
“No,” he said, looking miffed. “Of course not. I haven’t sent it yet.”

  “Maybe housekeeping,” I said. “Or Midge. She has a key to every room.”

  “Do you read aloud often?” Lily asked him. “Like you just did?”

  “I suppose,” he says. “English is my third language. It is easiest for me to read aloud to catch my errors.”

  “If someone was listening closely enough, they probably could’ve heard from outside the room,” I said. “Which brings our suspect list back to…well, everyone.”

  “If you’ll excuse me,” the doctor said. “My blood sugar levels are low again. I like to eat in private.”

  Lily and I left him alone, sharing a confused look as we made our way downstairs.

  “Shall we interview the husband next?” I asked. “See what his past is all about?”

  “I guess,” Lily said thoughtfully. “I don’t have much to go on with the other man—Mr. Bill. Did you find anything?”

  “Nothing except the fact that Hettie’s interested in him,” I said, as we descended the last stair to the landing and paused in the entryway. “Except he might be too old.”

  “I’m not too old,” Mr. Bill said, surprising us as he appeared around the corner from the dining room. “So, if she reconsiders, let her know I’m interested.”

  Lily wrinkled her nose, obviously wanting no part in any such thing, watching with unease as Mr. Bill clomped slowly toward the back door. It took awhile, his cane clunking a resounding thud with each step he took.

  “Well, he can’t move anywhere quietly,” I said. “I think we can rule him out as the thief. Unless...” I gasped. “Lily!”

  “What is it?”

  Glancing around suspiciously, I nodded at Lily to come out the front door. She followed as I descended the front steps and came to a stop in the midst of Midge’s sunflowers.

  “What is it?” Lily asked. “Is this about Mr. Bill saying he’s interested in my grandmother? I mean, I’m not a huge fan, but I guess it’s Hettie’s life, and her choice, and—”