Bewitch You a Merry Christmas: A Brimstone Bay Mystery (Brimstone Bay Mysteries Book 3)

by N. M. Howell

  I eyed Brett as he came in and crossed my arms. He certainly wasn’t my favorite person on the planet, that was for sure. The way he spoke to me when we first met made me want nothing to do with him, to be honest.

  “Everyone, this is my friend Brett.”

  I nodded curtly, but everyone else in the room greeted him with a warm hello.

  Brett smiled widely at everyone and waved. Bailey even got up and shook his hand, and I noticed a light blush creep up on her cheeks.

  Oh great, just what we needed. Another asshole to break Bailey’s heart.

  “Come, join us,” Bailey said. “Just in time for breakfast.”

  “Oh, thanks,” Brett followed Bailey to the table and sat in the chair she pulled up for him.

  Mrs. Brody got up to get him a plate and placed it in front of him on the table and began piling food onto it for him. He looked startled at first, but then let her finish her task. He didn’t look like the kind of guy who was used to being mothered.

  “I got your message,” he finally said to Jordan after everyone settled into breakfast again. “My phone died just as I finished listening to your voicemail. I turned around and headed straight here.”

  “Thanks, man,” Jordan said through a mouthful of pancake. “I appreciate it.”

  “Sounded important,” Brett said. “Anything I can help with?”

  I shook my head. “No, thanks. We’ve got it under control.”

  Jordan gave me a stern look, but I ignored him. All I could think of was the time we had met in October when he was a complete jerk. I realized people could have bad days, but I really didn’t like this guy.

  “You can go home after you eat,” I said.

  “Nonsense,” Bailey said, smiling at him. “You’ve come all this way. You’ll stay for a while and enjoy Christmas with us.”

  He smiled back at her. “Sounds great to me.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Do you have the address?” I finally asked him. The least he could do was be helpful

  “The what?” he said, looking confused.

  “My bag,” Jordan clarified. “Did you bring it?”

  Brett nodded. “Yeah, right here.” He reached into his own bag and brought out a smaller leather one and tossed it to Jordan.

  I glowered at him but resumed eating my food. I was grateful that he at least came back to bring Jordan his bag. He must have been driving for hours, so I guessed I couldn’t be too mad.

  I sighed and took another bite of sausage.

  “Thanks,” I finally said to Brett. “For coming back.”

  Jordan grinned at me but remained silent when I glared up at him. He knew that look. It was my ‘I dare you to say anything’ look. Points for him for being able to read me.

  Jordan handed me the bag when I reached out to him, and I rummaged through it to look for the piece of paper with the address on it. When I found it, I whipped out my phone and called Sheriff Reese. I left a message when I reached his voicemail.

  Bailey offered Brett the plate of chocolate balls, and when I put my phone away, I looked up to see him looking back at Bailey with a brilliant smile. He looked amused as he accepted a few chocolate balls from the tray.

  I then blinked as I noticed his hair had turned a bright snow white, with silver and gold tips, and Mrs. Brody was snickering mischievously in her seat.

  I couldn’t help but laugh. It was certainly turning out to be an interesting Christmas.

  11

  Finally, after about half an hour, Sheriff Reese called me back, and while the rest of the group finished breakfast, I stole away into the next room to talk.

  He kept telling me to stay in the house all day while he and his men went to investigate the address.

  I, obviously, wasn’t going to have any of that.

  “You absolutely cannot come,” he lectured me through my phone. “You will stay home with Jordan and your friends and Mrs. Brody, and I’ll report back if we learn anything. It doesn’t make any sense for you and Jordan to come when you two are possibly the next targets.”

  I did my best to argue with him, but he was used to putting up with me when I tried forcing my way onto his cases. He eventually hung up on me.

  “He won’t let us go with him,” I grumbled when I came back to the kitchen table.

  “Of course, not,” Jordan said. “It’s too dangerous. We have to stay here until we know more.”

  “What?” I asked. “What do you mean, we have to stay here? You are a cop - don’t you want to go investigate?”

  “A retired cop,” he corrected me. “Which is what got us into this mess, to begin with, remember? We’re staying.”

  I shook my head. “No, sorry. I have to go and find out what’s going on.”

  Jordan narrowed his eyes at me. “No. You’re staying.”

  I rolled my eyes. He apparently didn’t know how persistent I could be. I was going to go investigate, and that was that.

  “You are being completely unreasonable right now,” he said.

  “Whatever!” I got up and left through the door towards the stairs to get my stuff. He may not want to go, but I sure as hell was going to go get to the bottom of this. I didn’t trust Sheriff Reese and his goons to figure this out on their own. I grabbed my coat and bag and stormed back downstairs.

  When I got back, Jordan and Brett were gone.

  “Oh, what the hell?” I could hear Jordan’s car as he pulled out of the driveway.

  I stared after the car out the window and then turned back to the table. Everyone in the room looked just as confused as I was.

  “Where’d they go?”

  “Uh,” Bailey began, but then shut her mouth and shrugged.

  I crossed my arms and tapped my foot on the ground. “Well?”

  “They went to the gala,” Rory finally said.

  “What?” I rubbed my eyes. “That’s absolutely infuriating. I thought Jordan didn’t want to go?”

  “He didn’t,” Bailey said. “But then…”

  Again, she remained quiet.

  “Oh, for Pete's sake, Bailey,” I said.

  “Who’s Pete?” she asked.

  I groaned and glared at the girl. “Just come out with it!”

  “Jordan got the invitation out of his bag, and suddenly he really wanted to go.”

  I raised my eyebrow. “That’s strange.”

  Bailey paused. “Actually, it really was. Something didn’t seem right.”

  Jane blinked. “You don’t think it could have been spelled, do you?”

  Mrs. Brody rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “You know, his sudden change in attitude did seem odd.”

  I looked back and forth between Jane and Mrs. Brody. “Are you two serious? Did you sense any magic in the room?”

  Mrs. Brody shrugged. “No. But then again, I am getting old. The senses aren’t what they used to be.”

  I rolled my eyes. I knew for a fact that that wasn’t true. If anything, Mrs. Brody was sharper than all of us four combined.

  “Come to think of it,” Bailey said. “I did feel kind of strange when Brett came in, but I thought…”

  Bailey began to blush.

  “You have got to be kidding me!” I exclaimed. Bailey really needed to stop falling for guys at the least opportune of moments.

  “Butterflies in your stomach?” I asked.

  Bailey shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “Possibly not because a cute guy came into the room?”

  She looked down at her feet. “Possibly.”

  I groaned. “Great! I have a bewitched boyfriend on the way to a murder site, and you lot were sitting here being giddy over a couple of boys.”

  Rory chewed her lip. “Well, yeah.”

  “Pretty much,” Jane said.

  “Okay,” I said slowly through a deep and calming breath. For all the good it did me. I was panicking more than ever now. “This isn’t good. This isn’t good at all.”

  “What are you going to do?” Bailey asked.
r />   “I need to go find him.”

  “How?” Jane asked.

  “I could take Brett’s car?” I suggested.

  “With what keys?” Rory asked.

  Dammit, good point.

  “You can take me,” I finally said to Rory.

  She raised her eyebrows. “No way, I’m not going to meet any more murderers with you. I’ve had my fill, thank you very much.”

  I rolled my eyes. She was being melodramatic, but I guessed I couldn’t force her to take me to a potentially life-threatening murder gala.

  “River, it’s too dangerous,” Jane said. “Just call the sheriff and warn him. He’ll take care of it.”

  I shook my head. “No. No way. Jordan’s life is in danger, and I need to go make sure he’s okay. Especially if the invitation was spelled! Sheriff Reese won’t have a clue how to deal with that.”

  Bailey jumped up out of her seat. “You’re right. I’ll go with you.”

  I raised my eyebrow at her. “Oh?”

  She blushed again. “Yeah, of course. To help Jordan.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Sure. For Jordan. Thanks, Bailey!”

  I smiled at her. I was grateful for the help, and if anyone knew how to deal with a bewitching spell, it was her.

  “Can we take your car?” I asked Rory.

  She rolled her eyes. “Fine. Just don’t get blood on the seats when you both get yourselves murdered.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I said. “Keys?”

  Rory dug through her purse and tossed the keys at me.

  “You girls be careful,” Mrs. Brody said. “Turn right around if you even have the slightest inkling that something might be wrong. Promise me that.”

  I nodded. “Promise. We’re just going to go and grab Jordan and bring him back. We’ll let the police handle the rest.”

  Mrs. Brody eyed me and did not look convinced. Oh well, her problem. Not mine.

  I pulled my jacket on and ran out the door, Bailey following closely behind.

  “Take this,” Mrs. Brody called from behind the door. She tossed a small bag out to Bailey, who caught it and shoved it into her purse.

  “What was that?” I asked breathlessly. Man, the house sure did have a long driveway. Why the hell did Rory always insist on parking so far away from the house?

  Bailey shrugged. “No idea. Something useful, I’d image. Either that or cookies. It seems really heavy, though.”

  I nodded. “Okay, whatever. Fine. Let’s go!”

  “I’ll drive,” she called to me as we ran down the driveway.

  I tossed her the keys, and we both got in the car. In less than a few seconds we were on the road.

  “Wait,” I shouted suddenly.

  Bailey slammed on the breaks, and the car screeched to a halt.

  “What? What happened?” She looked frantic.

  “We don’t know where we’re going, and Jordan never charged his phone so I can’t call him.”

  “Oh, right.” Bailey scrunched her face in concentration. “Didn’t you call the sheriff? He’ll have the address.”

  I nodded. “Oh, yeah. Right.”

  I dialed the sheriff’s number, but it went straight to his voicemail. “Dammit. Voicemail.”

  “Do you not remember the address? You literally called him ten minutes ago.”

  I sighed and rubbed my eyes. “No, not really. It was at an old mill in Rockland, though. That much I remember.”

  “An old mill?” Bailey considered for a moment. “How many old mills can there be? I’m sure we can find it.”

  I shrugged. “We will have to try. Rockland is about an hour away. I’ll keep calling the sheriff on the way.”

  Bailey sped down the winding Maine roads south along the coast towards Rockland. Luckily, it was highway most of the way, so the drive wasn’t too bad. The snow had stopped, and the roads were clear, at least.

  I dialed the sheriff at least half a dozen times but was met every time by his voicemail message.

  I even called Jordan a few times, but I knew full well that his phone was dead.

  Panic was beginning to set in as we got closer to Rockland.

  It became apparent that we weren’t going to get through to anybody, so I tried searching for a Rockland mill on Google on my phone.

  Luckily, the first hit was exactly what we needed. An old heritage mill converted into an event space. The website looked like it hadn’t been updated in ages, though.

  “Bingo,” I said as I put the address into the GPS system that Rory had installed in her car. “Still fifteen minutes away. Step on it!”

  Rory sped down the highway as fast as she was comfortable with, which, as I couldn’t help but notice through my constant nervous checking of the speedometer, was only three miles per hour over the speed limit. I was growing antsy and really didn’t have another fifteen minutes of stress in me.

  I distracted myself by continuing to call the sheriff and Jordan, but of course, the calls continued to meet their voicemail.

  Finally, we neared the site and passed a sign with a picture of an old mill on it.

  “This looks like the place,” Bailey said.

  She slowed the car down and turned right into a dirt road that the sign was pointing towards. The road was long and narrow and took us through a thick set of trees.

  I glanced nervously at the time. It was just passed 1 pm, and I relaxed a bit. The part of the invitation that we found at Jordan’s house had said the event started at 5:30 pm, so we still had quite a few hours before anything was likely to happen.

  We continued to drive down the winding road, and our visibility became obscured as it began to snow. I turned and looked through the rear windshield behind us, and I could barely see anything outside through the thick trees and the snow.

  “Strange place for an event,” Bailey commented as I assessed our surroundings.

  After another few minutes, the trees began to clear, and we could see an old wooden building far up ahead. I could barely make it out, but I thought I saw cars up ahead as well.

  “I think that’s the sheriff’s car.” I pointed to way to the right-hand side of the mill, a bit farther down along the road.

  “Looks like it,” Bailey said. “Let’s go see.”

  Bailey drove us around the mill towards the other cars, which had parked a fair distance away from the building behind a thick cluster of trees.

  “Why did they park so far away?” Bailey asked.

  I shrugged. “Probably to remain hidden behind the trees. Better park here, too.”

  Bailey pulled the car up beside the sheriff’s, and I noticed a little ways away was Jordan’s car, as well.

  “We’re definitely in the right spot,” I said. I squinted through the snow around the car, but couldn’t see anyone else.

  “I wonder where they all went?” Bailey asked. “I don’t see them around the cars.”

  I shrugged. “Who knows. But we had better go try and find them before anything bad happens. I have a bad feeling about this.”

  Bailey nodded. “Alright. Let’s go inside.”

  12

  Bailey and I walked up to the mill in silence. I had my hand on my phone in case we needed to call for help, although given the failed attempts in the past hours, I had a feeling it was a false confidence.

  Bailey held her purse up as if it was a weapon, ready to strike.

  It was absolutely silent, apart from the crunching of snow beneath our footsteps.

  “It doesn’t really look like there’s an event going on here,” Bailey whispered as we approached the structure.

  I shook my head. “It doesn’t actually even look like there’s been any events here in a long time.”

  As we got closer towards the mill, I noticed it looked like it hadn’t been maintained in years. The wood siding had fallen off in a few places, and some of the windows were broken.

  Bailey shrugged. “Maybe they think it’s rustic charm?”

  I didn’t think so.

&nbs
p; I searched the ground for footprints to see where everyone else had gone, but the snow covered any evidence of other people. For all we knew, they could have been captured and taken somewhere else.

  Bailey and I walked around to the front of the building, which was facing away from where we had parked. I walked up and put my ear against the front door to listen.

  “I think somebody’s inside,” I said. I could hear the faint muffled sounds of conversation.

  “Do you think it’s them?” Bailey asked.

  I sure hoped so. The alternative would be that they had already been captured and it was the murderer that I could hear inside. I swallowed hard, trying to push that thought from my mind.

  “Better stay quiet, just in case,” I said.

  I slowly pulled the front door open and stepped inside to the small entryway. There was another set of double doors in front of us, leading to the inside of the mill.

  I motioned for Bailey to follow me, and I pulled the second set of doors open. The doors creaked loudly, and Bailey and I immediately pressed our backs up against the wall to remain hidden from anyone who might have been inside. After a few moments of holding my breath and not hearing anything on the other side of the door, though, I relaxed and stepped back toward the door.

  Before stepping in, I peeked my head around the door to look inside.

  It was dark. The small windows of the mill were so dusty and covered in dirt that barely any light leaked inside. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust after being outside in the glaring daylight.

  I couldn’t see anything inside, so we both stepped through the doors and closed them behind us.

  A deep shiver ran through my body, and I turned to see Bailey had felt the same thing. She looked pale and was shaking her head.

  “I don’t like this,” she murmured. “There’s something wrong. There’s something not right with this place.”

  I nodded. “I can feel it, too.”

  I then noticed a small light in the far corner of the large interior space, but a moment later it was extinguished, and I could no longer see where it came from.