The Book Of Ill Deeds_A Paranormal Cozy Mystery

by Phaedra Weldon

  My attention snapped back to Mama D. “Holy crap. That would scare me. Who got a reading like that?”

  Mama D shrugged. “Melody wouldn’t say. Client privilege.”

  “I don’t think that applies to card reading,” I smirked.

  “No, but she wouldn’t tell me. I suggested she tell her client to take in a change of scenery. She closed up shop and left with a note in my mailbox. Said she was heading to some kind of meditation camp or something as flaky.”

  Mama D was old school magic. None of this self-help guru get-your-chakras-aligned stuff for her. I think I was kind of like her. I’d never run from a problem—but I also attracted them. Like flies to fruit. Fruit flies.

  That analogy was so much better in my head.

  “So,” I picked up a different hand-carved key chain. This time a fox. “You going to tell me what happened in here with the dead witch?”

  “Exactly what I told Billy. That guy broke in. He died. I was asleep.”

  “You know I don’t buy it.”

  “You don’t have to buy it. It’s the truth. And it’s all I will say,” she grunted. “For now. We need to get started on dinner. Five o’clock will get here faster than you know.”

  I frowned “What’s happening at five?”

  “Dinner. Doc Flanagan will be here.”

  “No, he won’t. That wasn’t a real dinner invitation.”

  Mama D put her finger to the side of her nose. I hated when she did that. It usually meant she was right. Then she looked around. “Where’s that cat?”

  “Leave the cat alone, Mama D.” I wondered where the cat had wandered off to. I walked into the kitchen and again took in what was available. There was pasta, tomato sauce, lots of cheeses (Mama D loved cheese her cheese and nuts) and there were several frozen packs of hamburger. “How about I make a lasagna? I saw fresh basil…” I looked away from the fridge to the herb garden in the window, handmade wire racks with small terracotta pots settled in nicely. When I came in the plants were half dead, but now they were brimming with life.

  Kevin made the racks. But why were the plants coming back into bloom in the house? On closer inspection, I noticed Mama D had every common cooking herb planted in those pots.

  I grabbed everything I needed and set it all on the counter. I felt someone staring at me and turned to see Mama D standing in the doorway, Burt still on her shoulder. “What?”

  “How long have you been a Hedge Witch?”

  “A what?” I’d heard the term before, but honestly, if it didn’t deal with accounting and paying the bills in California, I didn’t give it much attention.

  “You’re an Earth Witch. Like me. How come I never sensed it before?”

  “Because I didn’t know?” I put one hand on the counter and the other on my hip. “I’ve always been able to do spells.”

  “Yes. You get that from your mother. But I didn’t see the affinity before.”

  I thought about the spell I’d used in the store, and the way Max had reacted. Those plants were growing like crazy out there, and apparently the magic moved into the kitchen and enchanted the herbs over the sink. Had the cat enhanced my magic? I could always do small domestic bits, and I had always had a green thumb. Unlike Melody. She killed a silk Ficus tree once. It was amazing. Poor thing actually lost its fake silk leaves.

  But me? I’d never really paid much attention to anything beyond basic spells. No time now either, not if I needed to get dinner cooking. I didn’t believe David Flanagan would actually come over, but then, why take chances, right? Always be prepared.

  Time to change the subject. “Why don’t you trust cats?” I said as I pulled out a frying pan and then filled the sink with warm water. Had to defrost the meat and I didn’t like microwave ovens for defrosting. It always half cooked the meat.

  When she didn’t answer, I half turned to look at her. “What?”

  “Where did the cat come from? This Max?”

  “Max belonged to Hardin Manchester, Mama D. The dead man. He was a Witch.”

  No comment.

  “You knew he was a Witch.”

  Still no comment.

  “Okay, so who was the guy you got into an argument with? Why did you threaten him?”

  Still, no comment.

  “Fine, then I’m going to make up a story.” I grabbed a large pot and filled it with water for the pasta. “I know he was a Familiar Hunter.”

  “How did you know that?” Mama D said, then looked at Burt on her shoulder. “You have a big mouth.”

  “I cannot tell a lie,” Burt said and then rubbed his little head against Mama D’s cheek again.

  As I placed the pot of water on the stove and turned the burner too high, I shook my head at the two of them. “Why did you and the Familiar Hunter get into a fight?”

  “Oh,” Mama D fidgeted and finally lowered her shoulders. “He was looking for something that wasn’t his. I don’t like Hunters of any sort. The lot of them. Self-serving holier than thou butt-heads who think they know what’s right for the world and only they can pass judgment and sentence on hapless unconventionals in the world.”

  Out of all of that, my brain fastened onto the holier than thou butt-heads and I laughed. “So you had an argument because you didn’t like him.”

  “Dang right I didn’t. I can smell a Hunter a mile away. And this pious poop-head demanded I tell him where your sister was.”

  That stopped me. “My sister? Melody?”

  “Yes. And I told him Melody was none of his business—in fact none of the Blackstones were his business—and if he didn’t get off my property, I would turn him into a frog.” Mama D made what Daphne called a belly-tickle laugh. It’s that weird hysterical laugh everyone makes when someone’s tickling them.

  “You had people in the shop at the time of this argument?”

  Mama D snorted. “There were a few. They all cleared out right after he did.”

  “I see. Did you get a name?”

  “It was just as pompous as he was. Rush Knight. With a K.” She shook her head.

  I set an iron skillet on the stove and turned the burner on high, unwrapped the meat and broke it up in the skillet. After washing my hands, I slipped the large flat noodles into the boiling water and leaned against the sink. Rush Knight. The name wasn’t familiar. But then, being a witch who didn’t have a Familiar meant I shouldn’t ever have to deal with those kinds of Hunters.

  I think I should explain a bit about Hunters and Familiars.

  Witch Hunters and Vampire Hunters were well known in the world. Witch Hunters hunted Witches who did bad things, and Vampire Hunters hunted Vampires—whether or not they did bad things. Vampire Hunters believed all Vampires were bad and should be destroyed on sight. The problem with that was Vampires were harder to spot these days than a bad Witch. Bad Witches—those who performed hexes and curses on innocent people—carried a mark that Hunters were trained to see. Witch Hunters had it easy.

  Vampire Hunters had to practically get up in a Vampire’s face these days because the old tell-tale signs were long gone. There was a new and improved version of Vampire out there who could walk around in the daylight, had no aversion to garlic and reflected in mirrors. How or why this happened—I never looked into. Because I’d never met one.

  Familiar Hunters were a completely different sort of Hunter. Familiars were always tools for Witches. Like wands. They could be used to focus power and energy and they acted like little magical batteries. They were also very loyal to their Witches and had been known, in the past, to commit some serious bad acts to protect them. There were a few stories here and there, about Familiars going too far and accidentally (or on purpose) injuring their Witches. I wasn’t sure I believed any of that.

  Either way, Familiar Hunters were an off-shoot of the other two and kept an eye on Familiars who strayed from their Witches. Having Max roaming around the house alarmed me at that moment and I looked at Mama D. Familiar Hunters could sense unbound Familiars. Which meant t
his Rush Knight could show up at the house. Again. “Have you seen Max?”

  “Who’s Max again?”

  “Don’t do that. You know it’s the cat.”

  “If I see the cat, I’m throwing it out.”

  “Don’t you dare!” I glared at Mama D. “You need to get over this distrust of cats. I mean, why? Why dislike them so much? You’ve told none of us the reason you’re so against them as Familiars.”

  I didn’t expect Mama D to answer. I was so shocked when she did, and by what she said. “A cat killed your mother, Ginger. Walked right in front of her path. And it killed her.”

  FOUR

  Of all the things I expected Mama D to say, blurting out that a cat killed my mother wasn’t one of them. Our parents died when I was twelve. I’d been told the reason was magic related, but I’d never really understood what it meant. I’d never asked anything else about it. Hearing the tragedy had been caused by a cat came at me from left field.

  I stared at her. “I—I don’t see how that’s possible.”

  Mama D looked serious. “It’s simple. And complex. A witch she knew in college was in love with your mother. He asked her to marry him, but your mother was crazy about your father. Sixteen years later, that same witch found her, professed his undying love to her and begged her to divorce your father. Of course, she said no. Two weeks later your parents died in that car crash, and that Witch’s name and his Familiar’s name showed up in the Book of Ill Deeds.”

  “The what?”

  “It’s a book the Hunters created—with a witch’s help, mind you—that automatically records the name, date, time and location of a magical evil.”

  I stared at her, open-mouthed, as the meat sizzled in the pan. I grabbed a spatula and moved the pink and brown stuff around. “You’re making this up.”

  “I wish I was. Book’s been around a long time, Ginger. It’s how the Hunters know where to be, how they justify their power over the paranormal communities. But it’s rare when a Familiar’s name shows up in the book. And when it does—”

  “The Familiar Hunter tracks them down?”

  “I really don’t know. An old friend told me about the book and the name of the witch whose name showed as responsible for the tragedy. When I learned his familiar was a cat, I stopped trusting all cats.” She put her hand on the counter.

  “Do the others know this? Kevin, Melody, or Daphne?”

  Mama D shook her head. “Doesn’t matter anymore.”

  I felt…sad. I’d sort of compartmentalized my parents’ deaths a long time ago. At twelve, it was the easiest way to deal with it. Now, at twenty-three, it crept back to the surface. Knowing their deaths were due to a witch and his familiar bothered me. More than I wanted it to. I stirred the boiling noodles and then turned the flame down on the now finished hamburger. I added the other ingredients into the pan, like tomato sauce, diced tomatoes, and water and brought everything to a nice simmer. I grabbed a small, sharp pair of scissors from a drawer and snipped off basil and oregano. I grabbed a few peeled cloves of garlic from a dish by the sink and smashed them with the flat side of the knife before I minced them with the same knife.

  I needed to refocus on something other than my parents’ death. I cut the basil and oregano and sprinkled all of it into the sauce. “Do you have mozzarella cheese?”

  “I do.” Mama D didn’t move to the fridge to get it, so I did. “Ginger…are you okay?”

  “I will be,” I said as I retrieved the package of long, flat cheese. I grabbed a baking dish from one of the lower cabinets. I turned the oven on to let it warm up. “You don’t know why a witch and his familiar were in the shop?”

  “No.”

  “Or why someone, or something, would kill him?”

  “No.”

  I turned to look at her. “Are there spells, or even plants, that would stop a man’s heart?”

  “Don’t forget the parmesan cheese,” Mama D said as she turned away from the kitchen and shuffled into the living area. “I’m gonna watch my stories.”

  “Granny—”

  After my parents passed away, I’d lived with Mama D for a while, with Daphne. We weren’t the best grandkids to have around, but I knew Mama D had done the best she could. I’d also learned a lot of her quirks and eccentricities. Watching her stories was a conversation ender. Period. I would not get anywhere else with her for at least a few hours.

  When everything was ready, I finished assembling the lasagna. After a heavy sprinkling of parmesan cheese on the top, I slipped it into the oven and set the little plastic happy-face pepper timer.

  Max abruptly appeared on top of the counter. His bright green eyes focused on me.

  So I looked at him. “I know your owner’s name was Hardin Manchester. And I also know he died from respiratory failure. Is the Familiar Hunter here looking for you?”

  “Meeorrw.”

  I sighed. Had I honestly thought this cat would answer me like Burt would? Burt was a bonded Familiar, and he allowed me to understand him. If anyone else was there when he talked, and he didn’t allow it, they’d never hear him speak, or see his little mouth move.

  Burt flew into the kitchen and perched on the parrot stand by the door. Mama D put the stands in just about every room. “He said he didn’t know.”

  I smiled at Burt. “Were you in the shop when they broke in?”

  “I was in Mama’s room,” Burt said as he turned around and then spun upside down on the horizontal pole. He seemed to do his best thinking when he was upside down.

  “Do you know why the Familiar Hunter, this Rush Knight, wanted to talk to Melody?”

  “I don’t know anything more than Mama does on that,” Burt said as he flapped his wings and then settled.

  I pursed my lips and headed to the shop. Max followed behind me and leaped up on the counter beside the register. To my surprise, Burt joined us and settled on his parrot stand. I didn’t know what I was looking for, but I wondered if I could find something the police missed. I got the impression Danvers’ people didn’t do a very thorough job when they were here. “So Max’s owner broke in and ransacked the place—that means he was looking for something. Do you know what?” I looked at Max.

  But the cat was cleaning himself.

  The shop’s phone rang, startling me into a tiny yelp.

  “We’re closed,” Burt said.

  But I answered it. “Lavender, Rosemary, and Rhine, Ginger speaking.”

  There was a pause. “I wasn’t sure anyone would answer. But I’m glad you did.”

  It was the doctor! I put my free hand on my chest. Wow…my heart was racing. “I was in here doing a bit of poking around.”

  “You don’t think the Sheriff’s guys did a thorough job?”

  Him mirroring my thoughts was a little spooky. “Yeah. You know. Just want to have this solved.”

  “So do I. Look,” he began. “I’ve got the afternoon free, and I also have a key to the mysterious car in the Park n’Pay. Would you be interested in taking a look with me?”

  My jaw dropped. “Are you—how did you get the key?”

  “I asked the Sheriff for it. Told him I needed to do some comparisons between the forensic evidence I found on the body and the car.”

  “You mean you fed him a lot of BS.”

  “Eh…guilty. He checked the car’s registration, and it’s a stolen car. Belonged to some lady in Savannah, Georgia. But she never reported it stolen.”

  “And Danvers thinks the dead witch stole it?”

  “Witch?”

  Oops! I kept forgetting Dr. Flanagan was new and probably didn’t know about Castle Falls and its underbelly of unconventional conventionals. Few of the humans knew. Some did, and they supported us. And then there were the humans who knew and did not support us. Like the local church lady and busybody, Mildred Thumper. She and her little gang of harpies were quick to judge anything out of the norm.

  “Uh,” I had to cover that one quick. But since the witch was a man, I couldn�
�t use the old standby of replacing the first letter. “My answer is yes.”

  “Yes—you want to come with me?”

  “I can meet you there.”

  “Or I can pick you up. After all, I am coming to your house for dinner, aren’t I?”

  Well…huh. “Yes. In fact, I have a lasagna in the oven.”

  “Lots of garlic?”

  “Yes. And I can make garlic bread.”

  “I’ll be over in fifteen minutes.” He disconnected.

  I stared at the phone receiver, not quite understanding what just happened. I wanted to see the car, and now I’m seeing the car. And I’m seeing it with the handsome new doctor. I looked at Burt and Max. They were staring at me. “What?” I said but didn’t wait for an answer before I left the shop, through the kitchen to the living area.

  Mama D was nestled inside of her papasan chair, covered in blankets, her gaze glued to her little box TV. “Mama D, I’m going out for a while. When the timer goes off, can you get the lasagna out of the oven?”

  “Of course.” She waved without looking away. “Tell Doc Flanagan I said hi.”

  I blinked. I opened my mouth. I closed it. How did she—?

  Och…never mind. I was going. I just wanted to freshen up before he got there so I headed upstairs to my room, pretty sure my granny was laughing at me behind my back.

  I recognized Dr. Flanagan’s mint green land boat from the Sheriff’s office parking lot. I didn’t call it that because I didn’t like it. I enjoyed the bigger, older cars. But that’s what those models were, even if his was a two-door. I stood outside the door of the shop, purse in hand. He started to get out of the car but I waved him back in and moved around to the passenger’s side.

  Once I was in and my seatbelt fastened, I turned and beamed at him. “Hi.”

  “Hi. I was going to be a gentleman and walk you around, open the door for you.”

  I waved at him. “Nah. I’m okay. Let’s go see the car before the Sheriff realizes he made a mistake.”

  He pursed his lips, and they were nice lips, before he put the car in drive and we headed into town. It was a nice day if not a bit chilly. The leaves were changing, the green inching toward orange and red. Castle Falls was nestled between two lines of mountains, marvels of limestone and granite. A few miles outside of the city was the path to the actual Castle Falls the town was named after. I hadn’t been since I was a kid, but I had nice memories of my parents loving them. It wasn’t a big fall, not much more than water falling over unique granite shapes that looked like a castle. There was a park, hiking trails and a gift store.