ExSpelled (The Kitchen Witch Book 5): Witch Cozy Mystery series

by Morgana Best

  “Was it a woman’s shirt?” I asked Owen.

  Owen shrugged. “No idea. I only saw the remains of it. It was almost burned through by the time I got there.”

  “Did you put out the fire?” Abby snapped at him. “The police might be able to extract some sort of evidence from it.”

  Owen’s face flushed. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I had my hands full chasing Bazza. Once I spotted him, I thought it better to chase him than to preserve evidence for the police.” He almost spat the words.

  “Why did you kill them?” Michael asked Bazza. “What did you have against Benedict and Laura, or Sarah for that matter?”

  Bazza rocked backward and forward on his chair. “I didn’t kill anyone.” His speech was slurred. “I didn’t kill anyone.”

  “Stop! Can’t you see you’re upsetting him?” Lisa burst into tears.

  Abby took her by the arm and tried to steer her away from Bazza, but Lisa would have none of it. “He didn’t kill anyone!” she said. “It’s that French chef. He always was strange. I bet he’s out running around the island now, and if it’s not him, it’s one of us.”

  Michael ignored her. “Owen, can you go and get some rope to tie him up? And Lisa, don’t even think about releasing him this time. He’s definitely the murderer, and we’ll have to leave it to the police to deal with him.”

  Owen hurried from the room, but my attention remained on Bazza. He was shaking so violently now that his feet tapped an erratic rhythm on the floor.

  “You can’t tie him up!” Lisa shrieked. “He hasn’t done anything wrong. It’s just a coincidence that he was standing over the burning shirt and the um, knives.” Her voice trailed away and I wondered for a moment if she was actually beginning to doubt his story.

  “Vanessa’s shirt was there in the cool room with the knives as well,” Lisa continued. “You don’t know that Bazza was burning his own shirt! In fact, he said he wasn’t burning anything at all. He only went to see what the smoke was. And Owen said he went to see what the smoke was too, and you don’t suspect him of anything.”

  Mandy placed her hand on Lisa’s shoulder. “Lisa, I know you don’t want to believe it, but please see how it looks. Bazza was the one who murdered Sarah, and the others. We just don’t know why. Maybe the police can get it out of him.”

  Lisa burst into tears and ran from the room. Abby made to go after her.

  “Let her go,” Michael said. “So long as she doesn’t untie him, she won’t do any harm. She won’t be in any danger now if she runs off by herself, because we’ve caught the killer. We’ll stay with Bazza until the police come, but he’s either inebriated or stoned, so I doubt he’ll give us any more trouble.”

  Vanessa sank into a chair. “I’m so glad this whole nightmare’s over now.”

  “I wonder what his motive could possibly be?” I said to nobody in particular.

  “Those three guests were very rude to him,” Abby said. “It’s hard to deal with the public all the time. Even ‘people persons’ begin to resent people once they’ve had to deal with the public for any length of time. Perhaps they were so rude to him that they pushed him over the edge. Who knows?”

  Owen returned with a length of rope, but at that moment, a gust of wind blew the door open. Perhaps Michael and Owen hadn’t shut it properly when they had come in, as they’d had their hands full with Bazza. As Abby went to shut it, a huge rat ran into the room. It twitched its large nose and ran in circles, making a horrible squealing sound. Vanessa screamed at the top of her lungs, while the rest of us took evasive action.

  Bazza took advantage of the situation and sprinted out the door, with Owen and Michael hard on his heels. Lisa ran after them, screaming at them.

  Michael and Owen returned only moments later with the unfortunate Bazza, who already had his hands tied behind his back with rope. They brought him inside and wrapped more rope around him, securing him to the chair.

  “Where’s Lisa?” Abby asked them.

  “She’s out there sitting at the beach, crying,” Michael said.

  Abby nodded. “I’ll go after her.”

  I was more interested to know where the huge rat had gone. It was the biggest rat I had ever seen. In fact, I didn’t know rats could grow that big.

  Mandy apparently was thinking the same thing. “Did you see the size of that rat? It looked the size of a small wombat.”

  “Do you think it was actually a rat?” I asked her.

  Owen answered for her. “It’s not unusual to have wildlife try to find shelter during and after a storm. Obviously, the wildlife couldn’t get in before because we had everything bolted down in the storm. It’s nothing to worry about.”

  Nothing to worry about? Giant rodents on the loose? Still, I supposed that was better than a murderer on the loose.

  Chapter 18

  I was beyond relieved that the murderer had been caught. I couldn’t wait to find out what had motivated him to go on a killing spree, but I would find out eventually. Now all we had to do was wait for the police to come. The rain had all but stopped, but it looked like it would start again any minute. At any rate, it was no longer storm rain, rather a light drizzle.

  The wind, too, had died down. Rather than the gale-force winds that had been slamming the island for days, it was now a gentle, consistent breeze. The clouds still looked fierce, and for a moment I feared that the police would have to turn back before they arrived. I just had to have faith that they knew what they were doing and could time their boat ride to the island. They would certainly know more about this kind of weather than I would, at any rate.

  There was still no television reception, and I was afraid that Owen and Abby would suggest cooking lessons. I wondered what I could do to escape that, as I certainly didn’t want to make anything else explode. It was then that I thought of the lightning struck wood. It was awfully hard to get, and I had never managed to find any in Bayberry Creek. Ruprecht and the others always sang its praises. They said it added power to every spell, and was better than coffee when speed was needed in a spell. I often added coffee to my spells to hurry along the manifestation I wanted, but lightning struck wood was like coffee on steroids. It was potent stuff indeed, and could be used in a variety of spells, bringing as it did the power of lightning to the spell.

  Since lightning had struck the tree at the top of the hill, I was fairly certain it had also struck trees around the resort. I wanted to find such a tree, and take some wood, not only for myself, but also to give as gifts to Ruprecht, Camino, Mint, and of course, Thyme. They would be delighted to have such a gift. I briefly wondered if they would want to give me another gift of my own after their last one had stranded me on the island with a killer. It wasn’t in any way their fault, of course, but it had me more than a little bit wary of taking trips anywhere unfamiliar in the future.

  I probably only had two hours before the police arrived, so I thought I should make a start. I went to my room, unescorted for the first time in days, and fetched my largest carry bag. When I returned to the dining room, Owen and Mandy were no longer there, and Abby and Lisa were sitting at the dining table. Michael was hovering behind Bazza.

  I told Abby and Michael where I was going. “That’s a good idea,” Abby said. “It’s been hard for you all not being able to explore the island. Oh, of course the murders made it hard for everyone. Please forgive me, I’m just so tired and stressed that I don’t know what I’m saying.”

  Michael whispered to me, “You go off and explore, and have a good time, but it’s probably best to stay close to the resort. The police will be here presently, in an hour or so. We’ll keep an eye on Lisa.”

  I nodded, my former sunny mood giving way to a moment of disquiet. I had forgotten the possibility that Lisa might have been in it with Bazza.

  Still, I would make sure I enjoyed my exploration of the area around the resort. I knew there was the lightning struck tree up the top of the hill, but there was no way I was going to climb the hill one mo
re time, whether by means of the tunnels or not. As a matter of fact, I would have been happy never to hear the word ‘tunnel’ again.

  I could see how beautiful the island would be in good weather. The sea looked angry and was dark and churning, and slender palm trees had washed up on the beach. Their trunks were extraordinarily beautiful shades of lime-green and dark coppery brown. I imagined this was normally a pristine beach, but now it just looked a mess. Swaying palm trees stretched out over the landscape before me, and I suddenly remembered the giant rat. I shuddered, but walked on.

  The rain was light, but still enough to be annoying. I squinted as I walked, looking for any sign of a tree that had been struck by lightning. Quite a few had been torn at by the storm, which made me realize that it had been especially intense, even for the island that supposedly had so many.

  I continued walking, squinting against the wind and rain, and soon found what I was looking for. In fact, I had a choice. It looked like the one lightning strike had taken down two trees. They had fallen into the sand, leaving a great dent in the beach. In many ways, it was an intimidating sight, though it did serve as a reminder of the sheer power that lightning possessed. Pieces of wood lay all over on the ground, so I did not even have to go to the effort of breaking any off.

  I gleefully collected as much as I could carry, and then sat on the burned tree trunk. I exhaled long and hard, and then shook my arms as if to disperse all my cares and worries. What had been going to be a nice time away—if a cooking school could ever be a nice time for me—had turned into a nightmare. Three people had been murdered, and I still did not even know why. Whatever had possessed Bazza to do such a thing? And was Lisa in it with him? In fact, had Bazza committed the murders at Lisa’s request?

  I shook my head. No, it was all over now, and the police would soon be dealing with it. My part in the ordeal was over. I had to let it go.

  I picked up a piece of lightning struck wood and turned it over in my hand. I could feel the power of lightning in it. I was a Dark Witch, and the others had said my power was growing. I decided I should do a spell with the lightning struck wood, a spell to ease my path, to remove all obstacles in front of me, and to bring me luck, and I would use the lightning struck wood to do it. And what better place to do it than an island which had just been through a tropical storm?

  I smiled, and picked up one piece of lightning struck wood, leaving the bag on the ground. The wind was rising, so I would be able to speak the spell at the top of my lungs and no one would hear me. I walked along the narrow trail near the resort, yelling the spell at the top of my lungs. It felt good.

  Just as I reached the conclusion of the spell, I came to the end of the trail. I injected as much power into my voice as I could, flung my arms skyward, and concluded the spell.

  And now all evil, you must flee!

  This is my will, so mote it be!

  As my voice reached a high crescendo, I heard something rustling in the bushes below. I looked down rapidly, worried that it was a rat.

  There, at my feet, were two people. It took me a while to recognize them, because I had never seen them without their clothes before. It was Owen and Mandy, as naked as the day they were born, clinging together in the bushes at my feet.

  I clamped my hands over my eyes. “I’m so sorry!” I said. “I was just reciting a, um, sonnet. Please go about your business.”

  With that, I removed my hands from my eyes, clamped them over my mouth, and fled the scene. I was starting to wonder more and more about this cooking school, and if I was the only one out of the loop.

  Chapter 19

  I hurried back to the building, my cheeks burning. I told myself that they would be more embarrassed than I was, but it was little consolation. I decided to stay in my room until the police arrived. No more wandering around the island, not after what had just happened. I wasn’t going to risk going back outside at what was clearly a Swingers’ Club masquerading as a Cooking School. I just had to find my phone, and then I could go to my room.

  “There it is,” I said to myself as I walked into the dining room where everyone was gathered.

  As I reached for my phone, it made a noise. I almost dropped it with shock. “Finally, service!” I said, much to everyone’s delight. Of course, given the way my day was going, the service dropped out before I could get a call out to Alder. “Hold that thought,” I added. “It’s just dropped out again.”

  “No matter,” Lisa said. “You can be comforted by the fact that you’ll soon be off the island with all the cell phone service you need.” She glared at me from under knitted eyebrows, and I supposed she was still furious with all of us for tying up Bazza.

  I scrolled down to read Alder’s message. He said he was on his way. But to where? I supposed he meant he was on his way to Rockhampton Airport, and we could fly back together. How lovely of him. He had also sent a bunch of new articles. Oh that’s right, I thought, he doesn’t know the murderer’s been caught. I thumbed across the screen to open the first article, but decided to look later. It no longer mattered. I put my phone down and adjusted the Band-Aids on my heels.

  Just then, Mandy and Michael returned, looking rather sheepish. I nodded to them and snatched up my phone, intending to beat a hasty retreat. Vanessa was peering at the screen, much to my annoyance. That was just plain rude.

  When I reached my room, I sat on the couch and, having nothing better to do, looked at the articles Alder had sent me. The first article was from a London paper. It was about Victoria Vincent’s death. It kept referencing Vanessa’s husband, who had been an academic yet at the same time the heir to a sizeable fortune, so I supposed that was why Victoria’s death had attracted so much media attention. I read the whole article. It was quite sad. When Victoria and Vanessa started college, their parents died. Victoria became addicted to prescription drugs after her heart surgery, and lost touch with Vanessa. She later wanted to reconcile with her sister. There was a photo of Victoria and a photo of Vanessa, and they did look very much alike. I could see why Benedict had been so shocked when he saw Vanessa, why he had so easily mistaken her for Victoria. I continued to read the article, how Vanessa had married into money and was the only heir to her husband’s considerable fortune. I read how Victoria had contacted Vanessa, wanting to reconnect at a well-known spa in Essex, and how Victoria had thrown herself to her death off one of the many cliffs in the area.

  I sat bolt upright. My phone clattered to the floor. How could I have been so stupid? The answer was there, right in front of my face.

  Now I knew why the three of them had been murdered. Vanessa was, in fact, Victoria. I could see how she did it all now. She must have planned it for ages. The two sisters had no living relatives, so it would have been easy, especially given the fact that they looked so alike. She contacted her wealthy, widowed sister and asked her to meet her at a location known for its dangerous cliffs. She had also seen a psychiatrist for weeks leading up to the event, and professed to suicidal tendencies. She had set it up beautifully, and that day had thrown her sister, Vanessa, off the cliff and assumed her identity.

  I should have known when I saw the scar on her chest in the mirror. The subject of Victoria’s heart surgery had already been raised. That was why Vanessa—rather, Victoria—had been so worried about us looking at her when she dressed. I had just thought she was overly modest.

  Now what to do? The police would be on their way. Should I go out and tell the others? Would they be in any danger from her now? I thought not. She had killed Benedict because he had recognized her, and I remembered him taunt her about it. He had also told Sarah in front of Victoria that he had a scoop for her. Victoria had just taken her chances. It was lucky for her that Bazza had stayed on the island as that had thrown suspicion off her. I expect she hadn’t had time to think it through or to plan to any degree. Benedict was about to expose her, so she had to act quickly to silence him. She no doubt suspected he had already told Sarah, so she had to dispose of Sarah as well. A
nd Laura had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  Had Vanessa seen the article? She had been looking at my phone just before I had taken it from the table. On second thoughts, I would have to tell everyone at once. I had been ignoring the sound at the sliding door. It was a sound I was used to by now, the wind rattling the door. Only it wasn’t the wind.

  Victoria burst through the door, a knife in hand. The last time I had seen that knife, it was protruding from either Benedict or Laura’s body.

  I wasn’t shocked. Somehow, deep down on some level, I had been expecting it.

  “I know you know it’s me,” she said. She made to lunge at me, but hesitated. No doubt it was the cascarilla powder and red brick dust just across the doorway. I also had the protective mirror spell facing that door.

  Those wards would not physically restrain anyone for long, and for once, my house wasn’t able to save me.

  Vanessa lunged at me, and in one smooth movement, I snatched up the jar of cascarilla powder and red brick dust and threw the mixture in her face.

  “You little witch!” she screeched at me, swinging the knife wildly with one hand, while trying to wipe the substance out of her eyes with the other.

  “You don’t know the half of it,” I said, dodging the knife and hitting her over the head with my bag filled with lightning struck wood. Ruprecht always said that practicality was one half of witchcraft.

  She fell to the floor in a crumpled heap. I kicked the knife as far as I could, and then stood back to admire my handiwork. That lightning struck wood sure did pack a punch.