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In Witch It All Began (Emberdale Paranormal Cozy Mystery Book 1)

Page 10

by Kali Harper


  “Anything you had in mind?”

  “I was thinking of starting a small garden in the front of the house. It’s been ages since the bushes were pruned and I know it was something Maggie would’ve wanted.”

  “You have any hedge clippers?”

  “I think I do, but I’m not allowed in my house until Lance finishes his investigation.”

  He rubbed his chin, the tiny stubble abrading his fingertips. “I’m guessing you haven’t taken an inventory of Maggie’s things.”

  “Not even close. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to sell anything in that place.”

  “You could sell her home as is. Not now of course, but once all is said and done, maybe you can put it on the market, furnishings and all.”

  “Along with a brand new garden,” I reminded him.

  “Right. Well, seeing as you don’t know what tools Maggie owned outside of cookie sheets and pans, I could always loan you what I do have. I normally save the renting for larger items, but for you, it can be as small a thing as a shovel.”

  “I appreciate it,” I said, putting the fence posts back where I’d found them.

  “Second thoughts?”

  “More like not enough hands.”

  “I’ll go ahead and get you a cart.” He returned to the front of the store, his voice carrying over the chiming bell once the Morgansons went to leave. “Find everything okay?”

  “Just the seeds,” Mr. Morganson replied.

  Whatever he said after that was either too low for me to hear or out of earshot. Alone in my aisle, I started to plan out the space I’d use for Maggie’s garden. I’d never grow fruit as delicious as Mr. Clark’s, but it was something to do and something I hoped would make her happy.

  “A bird feeder,” Felix said as he rounded the corner with a red cart. “Every garden needs one along with a bird bath.”

  “Maggie already has one.”

  “You mean the plastic thing that’s cracked down one side? Get a real bird feeder.”

  “I sure hope it isn’t one of those bird mansions.”

  “Mine are way better. I’ll show you a few of the ones I’ve made out back before you go.”

  “If they’re anything like those gryphons you have sitting out front, I’m gonna have to.”

  “So you’ve finally met them, have you? Some of my finest work. All that filigree along their feathery manes took forever.”

  “Is it hard sculpting with metal?”

  “Not when you have these?” He held up his hands. “One heats the metal and the other cools it down.”

  “How can you even see what you’re doing?” His hair was far too long.

  He laughed. “I suppose I could use a bit of a trim, but most of what I do doesn’t require my sight. I tend to zone out anyway. For me, working with metal is much like how you’d handle a slab of clay. I don’t feel the cold or the heat, only the material in my hands.”

  “Sounds nice.”

  “It is. It’s also a wonderful form of meditation.”

  “I’m hoping his small garden will do the same for me. I need something else to focus on for a little while.”

  “Gardening is a wonderful choice. You get to put your hands in the dirt and nurture something as it grows. It’s very rewarding, even if it does take some time to reach that point.”

  “Maybe I should pick an easier project.” Glancing from the fencing I had in the cart to where I’d gotten it, I considered putting it away and walking out of Felix’s shop with nothing more than the news of Harris’ affair.

  “Change is important,” Felix told me. “Good and bad. How we adapt is what makes us who we are. You came in here today to do something for Maggie, and I think you should. Don’t run away from it because it’s hard.”

  “Are you talking about the garden or me getting my wings?” By now, the entire town probably knew about my magical inheritance.

  “You’d be our first angle if you did,” he said with a grin. “I was talking about the garden, but it could pertain to both. Question is, what do you think I was referring to?”

  “The garden,” I said after giving his question some thought.

  “And how did you come to that conclusion, I wonder.”

  “Because everything you can learn about life you can do so by tending to a bunch of plants.”

  “Sounds familiar.”

  “It should, you said it to me two summers ago when I considered making a vegetable garden.”

  “Which you never finished,” he pointed out.

  “I started it.” In fact, the bag of much was sitting in the garage somewhere.

  “Yes, well, you’ll be sure to finish this one.”

  This time would be different. “The garden isn’t for me.”

  “For Maggie.”

  After spending close to an hour in Felix’s shop and getting every gardening supply known to mankind, Felix offered to deliver everything I needed instead of having me lug it all home. In the end, I kept the length of white fencing, snagged a hummingbird feeder, a collection of flowers, as well as two bags of mulch.

  I’d decided against the bird bath and feeder as I honestly had no idea where I’d put them until after the rest of the garden was done, but promised to invest in them in the spring. It didn’t make sense to plant seeds so late in the season, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t add a splash of color to the front of the house with a few of the extra flowers Felix had hanging around.

  “What took you so long,” Sammy growled as soon as I stepped outside. “You were in there for an hour! What if something happened?”

  “I missed you too,” I said, patting him on the head.

  “This isn’t funny, Astrid.”

  “Relax. You had wards on me, right?” When he sighed and bowed his head between his shoulders, I continued. “See? There was nothing to worry about.”

  “So what took so long?” he asked, walking alongside me.

  “I couldn’t decide what to get for Maggie’s garden.”

  “And?”

  “I only grabbed a few items, which Felix will have delivered to the house along with whatever tools I might need.”

  “Sounds boring, so why are you smiling?”

  “Because I overheard something that might actually help with Maggie’s case.”

  “And?” he urged again.

  “Let’s get home first, then I can tell you and Maggie together.”

  Maggie and Sammy sat on the couch, their eyes directed at me as I went over everything I’d overheard. It could’ve been nothing. It’s possible what the Morgansons said had nothing to do with Maggie, but the way they spoke left an uneasy feeling in my stomach. I’d tried to chase it away by busying myself at Felix’s, but as soon as Sammy and I headed home, the calm I’d achieved vanished.

  The entire walk home, Sammy wouldn’t stop staring at me. He clearly wanted to hear what I had to say, but I’d already told him it wasn’t worth saying in public. My initial thought was to run to Kat’s shop and talk about it with her as she’d helped me piece things together so far, but after Sammy’s warning, I thought better of it.

  “So he had an affair?” Sammy asked once I’d finished.

  “Seems like,” I said, looking at Maggie who, up until this point, was as chatty as ever. “Maggie, what’s wrong?”

  “Who did he have an affair with?” My heart broke as her eyes barely met mine, and when they did, there was a light shine to them.

  “It wasn’t you, was it?” Sammy asked, speaking the words I couldn’t say.

  “No. Not really. I don’t so.”

  Now it was my turn to sit on the sofa while Maggie paced the length of the room, her eyes focused on the floor. “How can you have an affair without knowing?” How did I not see this? “Why didn’t you say anything about it before?”

  “Because not all affairs are the same.” She released a long breath, then paused to tidy her pajamas. “We never did anything, but I had feelings for him.”

  “Some very ha
rd feelings,” Sammy added.

  “After all the fighting you did?” I asked.

  “It was a front,” Maggie admitted. “We had to make it appear as though nothing between us had changed. I honestly don’t think he even knew.”

  There was a lot of that going around. Between Mr. Clark clearly having feelings for her and Maggie caring for Harris, it was as close to a magical love triangle as we’d probably ever get. “So you aren’t even sure.” It wasn’t a question, and when she looked at me again, I could see the possibility of him caring for someone else had gotten to her.

  “He was a charming man,” she said after a long moment. “We may have bickered over who cast the best charms, but there was a mutual respect there as well. I handled my clients and he watched after his own. You never cross charms with another witch.”

  “Kat said something similar. Is it really as dangerous as she says to layer charms on top of each other?”

  “It’s a dangerous practice. I’d never tried it as there are some lines you should never cross. It puts a dark mark on someone.”

  “But if someone were to try it, is it possible? Would we notice?”

  She considered my question for a long moment, studying the clock she had sitting on the mantelpiece. “It would come down to the individual’s skill. I’ve heard rumors of where one witch charmed over another’s.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “It backfired, stripped her of her magic, and almost killed her.”

  “Which means the likelihood of someone doing that to your charms is rather slim.”

  “Yes.”

  “Maggie did it,” Sammy said, jumping from the sofa.

  “What?” We both looked at him.

  “Everyone knows about Maggie’s tarts and other baked goods. What if someone, such as yourself, charmed one of the ingredients before you put it into the tart?” His question was directed at Maggie, though his eyes never left mine.

  “Like the strawberries,” I finished for him.

  “Exactly.”

  “But the strawberries I ate were perfectly fine.” Not to mention Mr. Clark didn’t work with charms, and unless Harris could shapeshift, the likelihood of him charming one of the fruits without actually touching it was close to impossible.

  “Maybe you were lucky,” Sammy offered.

  “Or maybe it was only noticeable to you.”

  “A bewitched fruit should have a bitter taste for anyone who eats it, not only who it target.”

  So much for that. It seemed as though the closer we got to figuring out Maggie’s killer, the more impossible things became. Everyone on my list of suspects fit but didn’t at the same time. What I needed to see was Maggie’s toxin report.

  “Where are you going?” Maggie asked when I put my shoes back on.

  “Going to see Lance.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “No, I need you to stay here. My thoughts are already a mess without anyone else telling me what to say. No offense,” I said, looking at Maggie.

  “But Sammy gets to go,” she protested.

  “Only because he’s my familiar. I promise to come back as soon as I’ve finished. Come on, Sam.”

  Chapter Ten

  “News travels fast in this town. I suppose you heard?”

  Lance busied himself with a handful of papers, filing them away before sitting behind his desk. His hair didn’t seem nearly as out of sorts as before and his suit was freshly pressed. He met my eyes then, the small glimpse coloring my cheeks. Really, Astrid? What was wrong with me? I’d never cared for the man before, not even when Maggie teased me about him or pointed out how well he wore his suit. The brown blazer was especially flattering on him.

  “Heard what?” I asked, lowering into the chair opposite of him and placing my purse in my lap. Sammy opted to wait outside, though I couldn’t say why. I hadn’t said much to him on our way over, but then again, he was a very smart cat. Having him as a lookout made me feel a lot better than having him in Lance’s office with me. “Did you get the toxins report back?” I asked when Lance didn’t say anything.

  “Don’t need it.” Boy, was he ever pleased with himself! If he puffed out his chest any more, it’d burst.

  “I still think you should wait for it to come back.” Not using a piece of evidence didn’t sound like him, not the detective I knew who’d much rather interrogate someone in public than bring them here.

  “There’s no need. He turned himself in less than an hour ago.”

  Turned himself in? “Who are we talking about?”

  “You’re the detective in training, you tell me.”

  I had my suspicions, but they meant nothing if Lance wasn’t willing to get those results. “I’d rather not say until you get the report back.”

  He gave me an incredulous look, then leaned back in his chair. “It’ll take days,” he warned, not breaking eye contact. “You sure you want to wait that long?”

  “With all the magic in this town, isn’t there a way to hurry things along?”

  “We don’t use any, actually. It isn’t safe, especially when other magic’s involved. Someone could’ve tampered with that fruit, as I’m sure you know.”

  “And using magic on top of it could be—”

  “Disastrous. Needless to say, we need to wait on science for this one.”

  “Then yes, I can wait.” I had to see about finding a certain book anyway. “Who did you arrest?”

  “Mr. Morganson turned himself in.”

  “He what?” Why on Earth would he do something like that?

  “You sound upset.”

  “That’s because you’ve got the wrong guy.”

  “You have evidence to prove this?” He leaned forward and pressed his elbows on the desk.

  “Well, not exactly, no. Maggie did tell me what she was doing before she died.” I paused to collect my thoughts, which resulted in a very stern look from Lance. “She was in her kitchen.”

  “At Every Last Crumb, we know.”

  “No, her kitchen at home. I didn’t realize it, so I’ve cleaned the place since then.”

  “Astrid…”

  “I didn’t know! You let me stay in her house, remember? What did you expect me to do?”

  He shook his head and released a long breath. “Tell me everything you can remember about it and leave nothing out.”

  Over the next few minutes, I told him about the flour and dough Maggie had rolled out on the counter along with the table and chairs that had mysteriously moved to the other side of the room. “I honestly thought the cats got into one of their chasing matches. I hadn’t seen the dough, but Maggie said it was what she was doing last. The flour was still there, along with the table and chairs.”

  Lance wrote something in his notebook, his brows pinched above his eyes. “Was there a rolling pin? Did she have any tools out?”

  “No. No mixing bowls in the sink, either.” It wasn’t unusual for Maggie to use her hands in place of the rolling pin anyway. “She tends to go off of sight instead of using her measuring cups.”

  “My mother’s the same way,” he said with a soft smile. “Did Maggie say what time she went down to the kitchen?”

  “Sometime in the middle of the night. I hadn’t thought to ask. Why?”

  “Because this explains why her time of death didn’t line up with her time at the bakery.”

  “I already told you we’d both closed up the other night, but I thought she might’ve gone back after the fact. And what’s this about Harris? You really think he did it?”

  “He admitted it.”

  “That’s not enough. I don’t accept it and neither will Maggie.”

  Lance released a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “This is what I have to work with,” he said, gesturing to his papers. “Unless you have something you’d like to add…” He cocked an eyebrow, continuing when I didn’t say anything. “I thought as much. Listen, it all makes sense.”

/>   “Not from where I’m standing.”

  “I’m sorry if this doesn’t please you, but unless you can prove his innocence, I have no choice but to keep him here.”

  “Can you keep him here for a few days?”

  He frowned. “Astrid, leave the detective work to me and my team. It isn’t safe for folks to go poking around.”

  “So I’ve been told. Fine, I’ll stay out of the way, but would you happen to know when I can go back inside my house?”

  “Tomorrow. Let us clear things up and get the tent out of the way, then it’s all yours.” When I stood to leave, he stopped me. “I mean it, Astrid. No investigations and no more interviews. If I find out you’re withholding evidence, I’ll have no choice but to arrest you.” Seeing his kind smile and the worry in his eyes, I knew he wouldn’t. “Don’t make this more complicated than it already is.”

  “Promise.”

  Lance let me out, then stood in the doorway to his office as I made my way back toward the front of the station. My heart skipped when I met Connie’s gaze, her eyes hardening at me as she closed the distance between us. Her face was flushed, and by the look of things, she was as unhappy with Harris’ arrest as I was.

  “You did this?” she shrieked, grabbing my arm and pulling me aside.

  Glancing around the room, many of the officers had stopped what they were doing. “It’s okay,” I assured them, meeting Lance’s worried gaze from across the room. “I’m fine,” I mouthed in his direction, slowly returning my attention to a very flustered Connie. “Let’s go sit for a minute.” I took her arm, which she quickly ripped away from me.

  “Don’t you dare touch me!”

  “Okay, okay. Look, I just want to talk. I’m here as a friend.”

  “A friend?” she scoffed. “Of all the years you’ve been here, you’ve not once asked me to join you for coffee. Not one! No, I know who’s side you’re on. You’ve always sided with her.” Her being Maggie. “No, Astrid, we aren’t friends. We aren’t even acquaintances.”

  “Bad choice of words, sorry.” I touched my hands to hers, offering her the kindest smile I could.

  She took a long breath which shook when she exhaled. Then, as if a switch had turned off, she collapsed in a nearby chair. Her face was worn, her eyes red, and the way she picked at a tiny piece of lint on her pants was proof enough her thoughts were elsewhere. “He didn’t do it,” she said, regarding me once I sat in the chair beside her. “I don’t know what got into his head to think he had to come here.”

 

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