Bailey nearly spat. She hadn’t considered that. Turner must have let him look at his notes. “Alright,” she said, “what’s the good news?”
“Well… it’s more like neutral news? There were twelve other sets of prints. Only three came back with results, though.”
Slim odds. “Alright, so? Anyone in town?”
“Well turns out Mr. Turner had a record,” Seamus said. “An arrest in ‘92 when he and some students chained themselves to a historic building in Atlanta.”
“Another set belongs to a Richard Seles; arrested three years ago for grand theft auto. He was arrested in Idaho and extradited back to Florida, though, and he’s still there; I checked.”
“Okay,” Bailey said, “so who’s the last set of prints?”
“Our very own Gloria Olson,” he said. “In her case, she was brought in after failing to pay a speeding ticket in Multnomah County. But, we already spoke to her, and she was talking to Professor Turner about his research originally; she was going to write a story for the Coven Grove Daily about it. So, it makes sense that we’d find her prints, too. She had an alibi that checked out; she was with Mr. Sullivan, having dinner at Sandbar.”
Bailey sighed, and rubbed her face. “Alright. It was worth a shot, anyway. Thanks Seamus.”
“Yeah… so, what are you thinking now?” He asked.
She grimaced, and then waved a hand at the four concerned faces that watched her. “I’m thinking I may have to get a lawyer for Ryan,” she lied. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Okay.” It sounded like he might have more to say, but Bailey hung up, and set the phone gently down before she threw it across the room.
“What did he say?” Piper asked.
“The only prints they could pull were Turner’s, Ryan’s, some convict in Florida who’s still in prison, and Gloria’s.” Bailey shook her head slowly. “There were other prints, but they didn’t belong to anyone with a record, at least, so… back to square one.”
“Not entirely,” Piper said quietly.
Bailey raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“Well… it could be nothing,” Piper said. “I don’t want to jump to any conclusions or anything but… well… there was something.”
Ten minutes later, they had a plan.
Bailey and Aiden stood in the entrance to the first cave. It was a little after noon, and the sun had risen far enough that the inside of the cave was in shadow. They were waiting patiently.
Trevor arrived first. Bailey smiled as he came down the path from the tour office, and Aiden waved to him. Trevor looked tired, Bailey thought. There were circles under his eyes.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said. “It’s been a difficult few days at the paper. Gloria wants to print a story about the Turner murder, but I’ve been fighting her on it.” He gave Bailey a sympathetic smile. “It’s about all I can do. I wish I could do more.”
“I know,” she said. “Thank you for that. Where is Gloria?”
“She’ll be along,” Trevor said. “I assume. When Aiden called, I thought she was going to pass out from excitement. You don’t know how long she’s waited to get this story.”
“I assure you,” Aiden said, “we’re just as excited. This will certainly put Coven Grove, and your paper, on the map.”
“I haven’t gotten the chance to offer Gloria my condolences,” Bailey said. “She was close to Professor Turner, wasn’t she?”
“She’d known him for ages,” Trevor said, nodding. “Yes. Terrible tragedy.”
“Terrible indeed,” Aiden said.
They were quiet a moment, expectant. Trevor glanced behind him. “I’m sorry she isn’t more punctual. I know you both must be busy.”
“We have all the time in the world,” Aiden assured him.
“So,” Bailey said, “you and Gloria?”
Trevor raised an eyebrow.
“It’s not much of a secret,” Aiden said. “I can’t blame you. Attractive young lady. Tenacious. She must be a handful.”
Trevor seemed to grow uncomfortable. “You could say that. Yes.”
“Aiden and I completely understand; boss and employee relationships are tricky,” Bailey said. “Sometimes I just wish we could go out in public without having to worry about people seeing us.” She took Aiden’s hand for effect.
“Yes,” Trevor said, noting the change. “I suppose it’s not entirely a secret, but, you know… it’s rather unprofessional. I’m sure you two know how it is. Gloria doesn’t mind, though. I think she likes having secrets.”
“Still,” Bailey said, “it would be nice to be taken out once in a while. You men, always so worried about what people will think.” She nudged Aiden with an elbow.
“It’s not entirely my fault,” Trevor said. “I’d be happy to take Gloria out. But you know it’s actually she that insists on staying in. I sometimes think she doesn’t want people to get the wrong impression. Our relationship is really more… casual than all that.”
“Oh,” Bailey said. “Whatever works for you two, I suppose.”
“Are you certain Gloria knows where to meet us?” Aiden asked.
“She does,” Trevor assured him. “But I suppose I can call her to find out where she is.”
He did, but Gloria didn’t answer. “That’s funny,” he said. “I talked to her not half an hour ago. Maybe she left her phone at home.”
“Maybe,” Bailey said politely.
Trevor looked around the caves. “So… what’s the deal here, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“I suppose if Gloria can’t be bothered to show up, we could always give you the story,” Aiden said.
“Gloria will still take the credit,” Trevor assured them.
“Well…” Bailey and Aiden shared a meaningful look. “Professor Turner apparently discovered something quite intriguing. But, not in the way we expected.”
“What’s that?”
Aiden sighed regretfully. “It seems,” he said, “that he discovered this whole cave system is, in simple terms… a hoax.”
Trevor’s eyes narrowed.
“He told me himself,” Bailey sighed. “The day before… you know. Turns out that these paintings are in reality only a few hundred years old. He was planning to debunk the whole thing. It would have ruined the town, probably.”
“Funny,” Trevor said. “That’s… not what I heard.”
“Really?” Bailey asked. “What did you hear?”
“Some pretty wild ideas,” Trevor said. “Gloria told me about some of them. Faeries and Stonehenge and… I don’t know.” He tapped his foot thoughtfully, brows creased. “I can’t imagine she would have made it all up. She’s pretty serious about writing the story.”
“Let’s ask her,” Bailey said as Gloria descended the path. She looked positively ragged, and she walked with a slight limp.
“Everything alright?” Aiden asked when she made it down. “Had a bit of a fall?”
“It’s nothing,” Gloria said. “Twisted my ankle is all. What’s this all about?”
“These two seem to think that Professor Turner believed the caves are an elaborate hoax,” Trevor said.
Gloria narrowed her eyes at the two of them. “We should leave,” Gloria said. “I came to get you. Come on.” She tugged at Trevor’s arm.
“Why?” Bailey wondered. “Worried about something?”
“You know exactly what I’m worried about,” Gloria spat. “I know all about you. And all your friends. I know the truth.”
“Gloria,” Bailey said, “listen to yourself. The truth about what?”
“About you witches,” Gloria hissed. “I know everything, and I’ve already written the story. If anything happens to me, it’ll go to every major news blog in the country. So just you keep your distance.”
“Even if such an insane story were true,” Aiden said, “who would believe the word of a convicted murderer?”
Gloria and Trevor froze.
“You see,” Bailey said, “I know for a fac
t that Professor Turner didn’t tell either of you a thing about his research. He was going to give Ryan the exclusive because Ryan would be taken more seriously.”
“That must have made you pretty angry,” Aiden said sympathetically. “Getting scooped like that.”
“Luckily,” Bailey went on, “Professor Turner kept all his notes written down. You knew that, though, of course. And you clearly have read them.”
“And taken them far too seriously,” Aiden added.
“You forget the part where I heard all of you talking about magic and spells,” Gloria said. “I heard you. I’ll tell everyone. You don’t have a shred of proof that I did anything; it was your murderous father’s pen that was found at the scene.”
Aiden tsked, and Bailey shook her head slowly.
“You know,” Bailey said, “my father is a quirky sort of guy. He loved that pen. And he only used one brand of ink. He’d order a dozen bottles at a time so he always had some. This little small-time ink maker in Wyoming, of all places. They still make iron gall ink. He likes it because it’s the same kind they used to pen the constitution. I know, he’s a nerd.” Bailey glanced down at Gloria’s shoes. They were the same worn looking pair of gray shoes Piper had described. And there was the blotchy blue stain that Piper remembered.
Bailey pointed to them. “The blue that he liked was very similar to that blue, in fact. What do you think are the chances they’ll match?”
“I have an alibi,” Gloria said.
“That you were out to dinner with a man you avoid going out in public with?” Aiden wondered. “Funny, that.”
“You killed Professor Turner, Gloria,” Bailey said. “And you framed my father for it.”
Gloria shook. Her lips moved, but no words came out. She blinked through confusion and let go of Trevor’s arm. “You’re crazy,” she said. “I wasn’t there. I didn’t… I don’t know how I got the journal, I found it lying around. I could never have…”
Something was wrong. Gloria looked genuinely disturbed. Not even afraid so much as… conflicted. She staggered back. “You’re messing with my head, aren’t you? Making me forget… or remember… no, no, no…”
Bailey opened her mind, and listened to Gloria’s thoughts.
She heard the chatter of a hundred voices all telling stories. Behind it all, a melancholy flute was beginning to play.
“Seamus!” Bailey called.
Gloria closed her eyes for a moment, and then turned when Seamus and another deputy’s boots crunched around the entrance of the cave. She hesitated, glanced at Bailey, and then turned and ran.
Another pair of deputies further up the path, however, tackled her as she passed where they were hidden.
“It’s not much to go on,” Seamus said as the other deputies handcuffed Gloria, and Seamus’ partner handcuffed the unresisting Trevor. “But it might be enough to give Ryan a fair chance.”
Bailey shared a look with Aiden, and then watched as Gloria was marched up the path to town and the waiting car that would carry her to jail.
“I’m not so sure she knew what she did,” Bailey said. “She’s obviously crazy.”
“It does sound that way,” Seamus agreed. He shook his head sadly. “It’s a shame.”
Yes, Bailey thought. It really was.
Epilogue
It took over a week for Ryan to be released. It was a joyful reunion. In the end, the ink from Gloria’s shoe had turned out to have trapped just the smallest hint of blood, as well, and no credit card receipt could be found to support her alibi. Trevor insisted they paid cash, but in the end, it just wasn’t enough. All of it was enough to make her the prime suspect.
More than likely, she wouldn’t end up in prison, though. She was on track to plead insanity. She maintained her story—that she didn’t remember killing Professor Turner and didn’t believe she’d done it.
The worst part was that she very well might have been telling the truth. Bailey felt terrible about it. Gloria wasn’t a charming person, by any means, but she didn’t deserve this—to be used by the Faeries, if that was what had happened.
“It’s not as simple as all that,” Aiden countered. “The Faeries can’t just make you do things. They only find the wickedness in your own heart and magnify it until it takes over. It’s why they’re so dangerous.”
They were gathered, again, at Grovey Goodies. The Coven ladies had gradually become more comfortable with the idea that Aiden and Avery knew about them. They weren’t consistently friendly, by any means, but they were… politely sociable. They were much friendlier toward Piper. Aria was beside herself at the impending baby.
Bailey and Chloe had taken some time to get to know one another on the new level that was developing between them. It was good, Bailey decided. She had questions, still, and she was still hurt, but some part of the old emptiness had begun to fill in around the edges.
They worked closely together in part so that Bailey could learn her part of the spells that would be cast during her next initiation. The second cave awaited, but this time she would have to do more than simply watch the story unfold. This time, Chloe told her, she would unfold part of it herself. It was exciting and a little scary at the same time. But it was nice to work through it with her mother to help her.
“It only serves as a warning,” Chloe said to the crew from behind the counter, “that we have to do everything we can to keep the caves from failing.”
“We must be vigilant,” Francis said. “Watch everyone.”
“We have to be brave,” Aria said. “And stand our ground.”
“It would be helpful if we were brilliant,” Avery said. “And figured out how to fix the caves.”
Aiden nodded slowly. “About that,” he said. “I have an idea. You see, the original spells—”
Piper groaned, interrupting Aiden as all faces turned toward her. She bit her lip, her face screwing up into a pained expression. When she opened her eyes and exhaled sharply, everyone knew what it meant.
“That was not a Braxston Hicks contraction,” she gasped. “That was the real deal. It’s time. Holy crap, it’s time.”
Everyone in the room acted at the same time. Aiden rushed to get his car, Avery and Bailey helped Piper up, and the Coven ladies hurried them out the door and to the sidewalk. The problem of Faeries was forgotten for the moment.
There was only one kind of magic on everyone’s mind for the next sixteen hours, and it wasn’t supernatural at all.
It was merely miraculous.
******
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Prologue
Chloe Minds was supposed to be a mother.
She supposed that in the most technical sense, she was. She’d given birth, at least, late at night, under the insistent, impatient urging of the Crones; who never gave voice to the nature of their apparent worries. Eight years before this moment, and nine months before that, Chloe had known that for her, giving birth wouldn’t be the same thing as being a mother.
The Ritual of the Special Cupcake had quickly become a tradition. At Wendy’s gentle suggestion, Chloe did begin to make them a bit smaller but this somehow only heightened Bailey’s attraction to the little bites—as though they really were made just for her. But then again, they were. Chloe would spend hours perfecting the little delicacies between her other labors, in anticipation of seeing her daughter’s face brighten with glee at the sight of another one-of-a-kind gift.
The gifts were transient in the way all pastries inevitably were, and in a way that was as it should be. Wendy and Bailey likewise shared only these transient moments of connection. She hoped that on some level it gave her daughter a sense of wholeness—even if she didn’t realize she was missing it. Just by looking at her, you wouldn’t have been able to tell that there was anything missing. Wendy was a good mother. Ryan worked long hours, but he was there when he was needed.
So when Bailey ran away from home, at eight years old, and came to the
bakery to hide, Chloe didn’t obscure the facts.
She sat watching the pensive little girl—her little girl, with an expression so Chloe’s own that it was like looking back through time—as Bailey ate a muffin. Not a special muffin; she hadn’t been expected. Just one of Aria’s organic, gluten free, sugar free, whole oat monstrosities that only the most dedicated health nuts ate on a regular basis. Bailey didn’t appear to like it.
“I have to tell your parents that you’re here,” Chloe said softly. “You must have known that.”
Bailey gave a world weary sigh and then nodded.
“Before I do that, would you like to tell me why you ran away?”
With pursed lips, Bailey considered this course of action. That, or she was trying to come up with a convincing story. Chloe might have sussed out the truth herself but… touching Bailey’s mind this early might well trigger any latent abilities not yet blossomed; and at her age that would be disastrous.
Finally, Bailey swept her curly red hair meaningfully behind her ear, her newly freckled face becoming gravely serious as she set her shoulders to reveal her motivations. Chloe suppressed a smile, instead assuming an appropriately serious look herself. “I don’t think they’re really my parents,” Bailey said.
Chloe’s heart thumped in her chest. Perhaps she was wrong. Had Bailey inherited her magic? She didn’t sense the girl’s thoughts intruding on her own—but she might well have inherited Chloe’s grandmother’s gift to see possible futures. “What… makes you say that, dear?” Chloe asked carefully.
Again, Bailey had to consider. She wasn’t one to speak without thinking, and according to Wendy she rarely jumped to conclusions. So, she sat quietly, evaluating the evidence.
“Neither of them have hair like mine,” Bailey said after a moment. “And, they don’t look like me. I learned in school that we get one coma… cram…”
“Chromosome?” Chloe asked.
“Yeah,” Bailey said, “that. We get one from our mom and one from our dad… or… anyway, Mrs. Mills said about white bunnies and brown bunnies; and there were two brown bunnies and two white bunnies and… the brown bunnies made more brown bunnies and the white bunnies made more white bunnies and the brown and white bunnies made brown and white bunnies and… there are no red bunnies in my family.”
Witching The Night Away: A Cozy Mystery (The Witchy Women of Coven Grove Book 3) Page 13