Witch You Well

by Colleen Cross

  Tyler followed my gaze. "They had to move closer for some of their equipment. Just say they stopped in for a meal at The Witching Post if anyone asks."

  "Good idea." I might have to, since a shiny black sedan had just pulled into the parking lot. A couple exited their vehicle and unloaded luggage from the trunk. They trudged past the coroner’s and forensics’ vans with their luggage, seemingly oblivious. At least that was a good sign.

  "Now, walk me through everything that happened, step-by-step, right up to when you discovered the body." Tyler Gates' warm brown eyes were easy to get lost in. A little too easy. I forced myself to focus on the task at hand.

  I recounted the events, omitting the argument with Aunt Pearl. "We were just about to assume our places when we found the body." It seemed like he was asking me the same things over and over. Then I realized that it was probably an interrogation tactic.

  I shivered as it really hit home. Here I was in the middle of the biggest story to ever hit Westwick Corners and instead of getting a scoop, I was being interrogated for a serious crime. I wasn't sure if I was considered a witness, a suspect, or both. All I knew for sure was that my involvement seriously hampered me getting the full story.

  "Any idea why the Plants choose Westwick Corners as a holiday destination? Westwick Corners isn’t exactly the French Riviera."

  Tyler Gates’ comment normally would have got my back up, but somehow he made it sound like it wasn't our fault we were a little hick town.

  "We invited them about six months ago," I said. "They never got back to us, so I just assumed they weren’t interested. I never in a million years thought that they would accept our invitation. But they finally did. Out of the blue, just two weeks ago, with no explanation why it took them so long."

  "I see." A slight smile played on his lips as he jotted more notes. "Tell me what you know about Sebastien Plant.”

  "Nothing more than most people. He founded Travel Unraveled, so he's a self-made billionaire. We had hoped he'd see the potential in the Westwick Corners Inn and maybe feature us in his television show." I told him about the architectural plans in the Plants' room. "We weren't snooping around, but we couldn't help seeing the plans because they were left in plain view on the desk. All we wanted was a little publicity, not for them to buy the place out from under us."

  "You sure no one in your family had some talks with them? Maybe someone made a proposal?"

  I shook my head. "Absolutely not. We've spent months renovating. We didn't invest our money and sweat equity to have the place torn down for some concrete monstrosity." I jumped to my feet as two Tyvek-clad men pulled a gurney out of the coroner’s van. "I sure hope they aren't going to carry the body across the lawn and parking lot in full view of the guests."

  "I'm afraid there’s no other alternative." He waved at me to sit back down. "Carry on with your story."

  I complied. "There's not much else to tell. It's obvious now why the Plants accepted our invitation. They had their eyes on our property."

  "Did they make an offer?"

  "No, not yet. I guess Sebastien's murder might have changed their plans. At any rate, we're not selling."

  "Hmmm."

  "You think the plans are somehow related to the murder?"

  "Could be."

  "What a disaster." I ran my fingers through my hair. "We'll get lots of publicity now, but the wrong kind. Nobody wants to vacation at a place where someone was murdered."

  "People forget eventually."

  "Not around here they don't." Between Aunt Pearl's arson and Sebastien Plant's murder, Westwick Corners' crime rate had skyrocketed in less than a day. Our town was quickly descending into lawlessness and I was scared of what might happen next.

  I told the sheriff everything I knew, including my whereabouts starting from this morning until my arrival at the gazebo earlier in the afternoon. "There's nothing else I can tell you, other than us literally tripping over Sebastien Plant's body." I shivered as I remembered landing on his soft, yet oddly stiff, body.

  He remained silent for several more minutes as he wrote in his notepad.

  The more time Sheriff Gates spent on his investigation and at the Inn, the more likely he would discover our family secret. But for now, he was oblivious to the fact that we were witches, and I intended to keep it that way. That gave me no choice but to involve myself in the investigation to clear the case up as soon as possible.

  "Sebastien Plant and his wife Tonya weren't due to arrive until around now. But as I'm sure Aunt Pearl told you, they actually arrived around one a.m., so she checked them in herself."

  Tyler Gates eyes narrowed. "She never mentioned that. Anything else?"

  I brushed a stray lock of hair from my eyes. "How long has he been dead?"

  He shrugged. "The coroner determines that, but I figure at least a few hours before you found him. Probably happened sometime this morning, before noon."

  "Surely someone saw him around the property." I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth. My aunt's whereabouts before she arrived at my office this morning were unaccounted for, and she seemed to be the only one even aware that the Plants had checked in."Any other leads?"

  "We're not releasing any information right now." His warm brown eyes suddenly cooled. "I know you want a story, but I can't give any details yet."

  "Not a thing?" Sebastien Plant's murder was only the second murder in Westwick Corners' history, and the first in my lifetime. It was the lead story I had been waiting for, the biggest thing to happen in recent history. It was also much more than a local story, since the victim was a famous business tycoon and celebrity. I wanted to get the scoop ahead of The Shady Creek Tattler.

  He shook his head. "Sorry, not yet."

  "All right. Just let me know if I can help in any way." I had no intention of standing on the sidelines. While he conducted his official investigation, I would do my unofficial one. It gave me the creeps that a murder had taken place on our property and I wanted it solved quickly.

  He tucked his notebook into his jacket and stood. "I'll get back to you if I have any questions."

  "I'd like to interview you for the newspaper, though."

  "You know where to find me." He smiled and despite myself, I smiled back.

  CHAPTER 8

  After helping Mom with Aunt Pearl's kitchen mess, I headed back into the dining room, which had started to fill with guests. Sheriff Tyler Gates was still there, his notebook and papers spread out on the table beside a cup of coffee.

  I worried that our guests might wonder why the sheriff was even here. The picture window behind him framed a panoramic view of the parking lot, where the Shady Creek police vehicles were still parked. I had hoped that the crime scene techs would be both fast and discreet, but it didn’t look like that was going to be the case.

  Our eyes met and he waved me over.

  I felt a pang of guilt. What I considered a mess and an inconvenience was the end of poor Sebastien Plant's life. I had never met him in person, and I suddenly wondered where Tonya Plant was. The table she had sat at earlier was empty, but I doubted her room would have been cleared by the police yet. Sheriff Gates must have already interviewed her. I wondered if he knew of her whereabouts.

  I glanced outside as he motioned for me to sit down. Still no sign of Brayden's car in the parking lot. I grew worried, since he hadn't even called. What if something had happened to him? Once I was done with the sheriff I would track him down.

  I turned my attention back to Tyler Gates. Though he did his best to remain expressionless, I thought I detected a trace of worry.

  "Tell me again what happened. Why exactly, were you in the gazebo?"

  "A wedding rehearsal." My eyes locked on his chocolate brown eyes. I tried to look away, but I was drawn into the warmest brown eyes I had ever seen. I couldn't help myself. I was mesmerized, even if I was being interrogated.

  I felt a pang of guilt lusting after a man that wasn't my fiancé.

  I felt a
catch in my throat. "Me."

  "Uh-huh." Sheriff Tyler Gates scribbled on his notepad. "Right, so you, Pearl, Ruby, and Brayden were in the gazebo. Anyone else?"

  "Uh, no." My face flushed. "Brayden wasn't there."

  Tyler Gates's mouth dropped open. "The groom missed his own wedding rehearsal?"

  "He was running late."

  "I see." He scribbled something in his notebook. "What time did he arrive at the gazebo?"

  "He didn't." It occurred to me for the first time that, as mayor, Brayden was actually Tyler Gates' boss. Surely the sheriff knew that Brayden wasn't there. He hadn't been at the gazebo, and his car wasn't in the parking lot.

  Tyler Gates raised his brows.

  "He never showed for the wedding rehearsal." In a weird sort of way I felt vindicated. Someone other than me was questioning Brayden's sense of priorities. It didn't stop me from feeling terrible though. In Brayden's eyes, I rated lower than a city hall meeting.

  "That's interesting." He scribbled something on his notepad.

  Other words sprang to my mind, but they weren't nearly as nice.

  "I know how it sounds, Sheriff Gates. But his meeting was running late and—" My voice caught in my throat as I realized the enormity of the situation. "He's the mayor. It would look bad if he left the meeting early."

  He looked up from his notepad and studied me, but didn't say a word. As an interrogation technique it was very effective, at least on me.

  "What meeting was he at?"

  "The weekly crime meeting, I think." My face flushed.

  Sheriff Gates scribbled more notes as the corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly. "You mean the weekly crime watch meeting? That got canceled today."

  "Oh." Of course Tyler Gates would know about a meeting attended by both mayor and sheriff. Brayden had lied to me. My face flushed in anger and embarrassment.

  But if the meeting was canceled, why had Brayden been a no-show?

  A trace of a smile played on Tyler Gates' lips. Even the sheriff didn't take me seriously. I had to admit it sounded stupid to me too. I really felt like giving Brayden a piece of my mind.

  His expression softened slightly. "I'm sure Brayden had something unexpected come up. And call me Tyler. This town's too small for anything other than first names."

  I didn't want to make excuses for Brayden but thought my words needed clarification. I didn’t want the sheriff to get the impression that Brayden had just blown me off. "It wasn't actually our final rehearsal. My mom Ruby is a bit of a perfectionist. Today was a pre-rehearsal rehearsal." It didn't justify Brayden's absence, but it was an important distinction.

  "I see."

  I didn't think he did. "Mom's a worrier. A pre-rehearsal just ensures things go off without a hitch."

  "Definitely not the case here. When's the wedding?"

  "Two weeks from today." I checked my watch. "Sheriff—I mean Tyler—the Inn's official grand opening is in an hour, right when dinner is served. I know this is a crime scene and all, but do you know when the crime scene will be processed?"

  Tyler bit his bottom lip as he considered the situation. "Just keep your guests away from the garden for the next couple of hours. The coroner and crime scene techs should be done soon. I've already asked them to be discreet."

  He rose. "One more thing. I will have more questions for you and your family after I debrief with the Shady Creek investigators. I'll need to speak with you, Pearl, and Ruby further since you were the ones who discovered the body. I’ll call you later."

  That gave me time to talk some sense into Aunt Pearl. That the sheriff hadn't kept her under watch told me that he didn't really consider her a suspect. Being Pearl, though, meant she was bound to say some incriminating things.

  CHAPTER 9

  After dinner we steered our guests towards The Witching Post for after-dinner drinks. That would hopefully occupy them until darkness fell and the police finished up at the gazebo. The sooner the police finished their evidence gathering the better. I worried that guests might stroll around the grounds since there wasn't much to do in town after dark. It would be disastrous if they stumbled upon the murder scene.

  It was seven p.m. by the time we had cleared the tables and washed the dishes. I walked outside and was relieved to see empty parking spaces where the coroner's van and the Shady Creek police vehicles had been parked earlier. Sheriff Gates' SUV was gone too, his parking spot now occupied by Brayden's shiny black BMW sedan.

  I was relieved and angry at the same time. Brayden must have heard of the murder by now, yet he hadn't even called or tracked me down to see if I was okay. Even his part-time bartender duties rated higher than my safety and well-being.

  My heart stopped as I glanced toward the garden and saw the yellow crime scene tape still draped around the gazebo. I made a mental note to call the sheriff to ask if the crime scene tape could be removed before morning.

  In just one day it felt like my whole life had changed. We'd opened our Inn after months of hard work only to face the tragic murder of a guest and possible financial ruin. My wedding rehearsal had been absent the groom, and having to explain Brayden's absence to Sheriff Gates made me have second thoughts about our wedding and our relationship. Getting married shouldn't be second place to anything, yet that was how I felt in Brayden's world. I would never be first.

  Then there was Tyler Gates. I was blindsided by my attraction to him. Aside from his looks, I felt a deeper chemistry, something I had never felt with Brayden. But that was stupid, since I didn’t even know him.

  I found myself hoping he would stick around for a while, and not just to maintain law and order. But so what if he did?

  Aunt Pearl was right about one thing. Unless I cared enough to change things up, nothing would happen. She had meant using my magic, but it applied to every area of my life, including my love life. I was responsible for my own happiness, and it was up to me to change my life. I walked towards The Witching Post, lost in thought.

  The bar had operated for several years, but didn't get a whole lot of business. Naturally I wanted to make sure our guests were enjoying themselves, but I also wanted to give Brayden a piece of my mind. Was I just an afterthought to him? The more I thought about it, the angrier I became.

  The bar was housed in a separate building off the inn's circular driveway. I crossed the driveway and savored the cool night air. A light breeze blew in from the foothills and the creek gurgled a hundred feet away. Mother Nature was oblivious to the tragic events just a few hours ago.

  The outdoors seemed to invigorate me with fresh perspective on Aunt Pearl's antics. She wasn't happy about interlopers in her town but she would eventually get over it. We just needed to somehow involve her more, in a way that didn't unduly distress our visitors. We could discreetly use our talents to help the sheriff solve Sebastien Plant's murder. As long as I kept Aunt Pearl in my sights, she couldn't make things worse.

  She had seemed intrigued by the note; maybe she could help me decipher it. The note had stuck in my memory because it seemed like it had been written by a local, or at least someone who wanted to appear to be local. I felt a catch in my throat I remembered the verse. I saw it clearly in my mind, remembering how it described precisely Aunt Pearl's sentiments:

  Though you travel far and wide,

  You'd be best to run and hide,

  Your business was built on travel,

  But it is here that you become unravelled,

  You have no business staying here,

  Not to taste our food, nor drink our beer,

  Leave Westwick Corners alone,

  And while you still can, go back home.

  Hands off our town and land

  If you do not,

  You will be caught

  And never ever walk this earth again.

  The threat seemed directed at Sebastien Plant, but as Aunt Pearl had noted earlier, there was no point in threatening someone already dead, assuming the murder was premeditated. Was the note meant to s
care off Tonya Plant? If so, it pointed to someone opposed to development in Westwick Corners.

  Except no one other than Aunt Pearl and me even knew about the Plants' secret development plans. I had seen the plans only after the murder. Presumably Aunt Pearl had too.

  Maybe instead of a clue, the note was meant to sidetrack the investigation instead.

  I stopped in my tracks as I visualized the note. I hadn’t noticed before that Unraveled was spelled with two L's, either a British spelling or a mistake. Proof enough that the note was left by an outsider, a non-American, to deflect blame onto someone local, like Aunt Pearl. That same person had undoubtedly bloodied her wand. I had no proof though, and without it my theory just sounded far-fetched, like I was looking for ways to clear my aunt. But how could I get to the bottom of things unless Aunt Pearl cooperated?

  I shook my head and walked towards the bar. Voices drifted outside and lifted my spirits. I hoped that The Westwick Corners Inn's grand opening would bring lots of extra business to The Witching Post Bar and Grill.

  I wasn't disappointed. Not only was the bar bustling with activity, it was standing room only. A few locals had even made the trek up the hill to mingle. Officially they came to show their support for our new business venture, but in reality they were here to check out and gossip about the out-of-town guests.

  There wasn't much going on in Westwick Corners at the best of times, but the locals seemed surprisingly unaware of the murder. I was thankful that Sheriff Gates and the Shady Creek police had been discreet. Other than the police, only Aunt Pearl, Mom, and I knew. I wanted to keep it that way, at least for tonight while the locals mingled with our paying guests.

  I also wanted to break the story in The Westwick Corners Weekly. It wasn't often I had a scoop before the rumor mill. By tomorrow there would be more details and hopefully some leads. Any leak before then would just scare the guests away and ruin the Inn's reputation.