Witchful Thinking: A Cozy Paranormal Mystery (The Happily Everlasting Series Book 4)

by Kristen Painter

  Lola studied the amethyst ring on her right hand. “I feel like I’m betraying my circle by joining forces with you.”

  “I will promise you this. Help me, and I will be in your debt. If you ever need anything, you can call on me. That has to be worth something.”

  Lola sighed and threw up her hands. “Fine. I’ll do what I can. But you have to be honest with me and Charlotte from here on out. And if you hurt Charlotte in any way, we are done, hunter. And you will be in a world of trouble. Do you understand me?”

  “I do.”

  She let out another reluctant breath. “What do you need me to do?”

  At last they were getting somewhere. “Call a coven meeting. Make it mandatory if you have to, but get everyone there. Check their auras, but don’t say anything about the book. Then let me know what you find out. In the meantime, I’ll be keeping an eye on the woman I already suspect.”

  “And that person is?” Lola waited expectantly.

  “Millie Merriweather,” Charlotte replied.

  Lola’s eyes widened. “Millie? The librarian?” She laughed. “You’re wasting your time there. The woman’s not even a witch. What on earth would make you think she’s involved?”

  Charlotte shrugged. “She was there at all the right times. She had access. We just don’t know who she could be working with.”

  Lola smirked. “So you suspect her and think she has an accomplice?”

  “Well, since she’s not a witch, she wouldn’t be able to use the book herself.”

  “I suppose that’s true. Still, it seems like a real stretch.” Lola stood. “Well, if I’m calling a coven meeting, I have work to do. And you two need to eat your dinner. I’ll be in touch through Charlotte.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate your help.” Walker got to his feet, Charlotte right behind him.

  Lola pursed her lips. “Make no mistake, hunter, I’m doing this for the greater good. And because Charlotte’s been caught up in all this. Not to help you.”

  He snorted. “I get it. But whatever your reasons, the end result will be the same and that’s what matters to me. If we turn up anything, I’ll make sure Charlotte keeps you in the loop.”

  “I expect nothing less.” Lola walked them to the door, then offered them both a strange smile. “Happy hunting.”

  Charlotte didn’t say a word to Walker for the first couple minutes they were in the car. She figured he’d earned that uncomfortable silence. She was mad. But she also understood why he might not have wanted to tell her exactly who he was.

  And outside of holding that information back, which was pretty significant, he’d done nothing else for her to be upset about. He’d opened his apartment to her and Edgar Allan, after all, and that wasn’t something everyone would have done. Unless that was part of his plan to keep her close so he could turn her over to his boss. But he wouldn’t do that, would he?

  She snuck a peek at him as she drove them to the diner. He looked miserable. Deeply, repentantly miserable. Nothing about him seemed like he was a man out to double cross her. She believed that with every instinct she had. Just looking at him it was plain to see he was obviously sorry about the whole thing.

  She started to speak, but then he broke the silence before she could get a word out.

  “I really am sorry, Charlotte. I knew I had to tell you, but I was sure it would make you uncomfortable around me, or maybe suspicious of me, and with everything that’s going on, I was afraid you’d bolt. I didn’t want to not be around you to protect you.”

  “You think I need protecting?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  That was sweet. She couldn’t remember anyone ever expressing a desire to protect her before. Didn’t mean she wasn’t still a little angry with him. “I pretty much understand why you didn’t tell me. I’m not wicked happy about it, but I get it.”

  “You do?”

  She kept her hands on the wheel and her eyes mostly on the road. “Yes.”

  He let out a sigh of relief. “I couldn’t come up with a single scenario in which you didn’t freak out, and with you staying in the spare room…” He shoved a hand through his hair. “I did not mean to upset you. And I meant what I said. I am not here to hurt you.”

  “I believe you.”

  “Thank you.” He relaxed with a sigh, leaning back into the seat. A few moments passed before he spoke again. “Were you not talking to me when we first got in the car because you were upset?”

  “Yes. And just because I’m talking to you now doesn’t mean I’m not still upset.” The diner was only five more minutes down the road. She’d probably stay reasonably mad through dinner at least.

  He sighed. “Fair enough.”

  But she wasn’t done talking things out. “If I’d felt something when we touched the first time, you would have had to explain. Or lie.”

  “I know. And I really didn’t want to lie.”

  “You should have told me right away.”

  “You’re right. I should have. But I also didn’t know if you were working for the Collective or not. I don’t typically walk up to potential opponents and introduce myself and spell out my mission. That’s how you get dead in my line of work.”

  She hadn’t thought about that. Her anger dialed back to mostly just miffed. “I suppose that’s true.”

  He was giving her puppy dog eyes, she could see that much in her peripheral vision. “Forgive me?”

  She wasn’t that easily swayed. “I’m thinking about it.”

  “I’m buying dinner.”

  “Yeah, you are.” She shot him a quick look. “What does it mean that you’re a witch hunter? Have you actually hunted witches down?”

  “You really want to know this stuff?”

  “Yes, I do. I need to know what kind of person you are. And what it is you really do, since it’s not antiquing like you told me.”

  “I do some antiquing, that wasn’t a total lie.”

  “Sure, if the objects are old and magical. Right?”

  He lifted one shoulder. “Right. Well, sometimes they’re not old, just magical. It’s part of my job as an FOL recovery agent.”

  “Which stands for what again?”

  “Fraternal Order of Light. They really are the good guys. They exist to balance the dark forces at work in the world. Which is why I’m here after this book.”

  Sounded like a worthwhile operation. “What else have you recovered?”

  “One of the three rings of the Zennet trilogy.”

  “Never heard of it.”

  “That would be because I confiscated one of the rings before it could be turned on and a portal to the demon realm opened. You’re welcome, by the way. Humanity would have ceased to exist if that had happened.”

  She pulled into Chickadee’s parking lot. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “Wow.” She shifted the car into park and turned off the engine. Maybe she was being too hard on him. Walker really wasn’t one of the bad guys. Dark magic was incredibly dangerous. “You still haven’t answered my other question. Have you hunted down witches?”

  “Yes. But only the bad ones.”

  “Have you ever…killed any?”

  His hesitation was answer enough. “Yes. One. But it was in self-defense. Usually I take them into custody and turn them over to the FOL.” His gaze darkened and drifted to a faraway place. “I had no choice. She would have killed me. Tried. Hard. Almost succeeded.”

  “What did she do?”

  “Immobilized me with a spell, then sent a bolt of lightning through me. Apparently that’s big with witches.”

  She cringed, thinking about how she’d threatened to do that to him. “That had to hurt.”

  “Like you can’t imagine. But I survived.” He smiled but it didn’t remove the pain in his eyes.

  “I’m glad. I really am.” They could talk more over dinner. Especially because she wasn’t mad anymore. She couldn’t be. He was just doing his job. “Come on, let’s eat.”


  They went inside and got a table. Most of the dinner rush was finishing up and they snagged the back booth again.

  Their server, a short redhead with the name Macy on her badge, brought them waters. “Evening. Special tonight is meat loaf. Anything else to drink besides the water?”

  “Coffee,” Walker said. “What about you, Charlotte?”

  It had been a long day. “Chocolate milk shake. And I’ll have the special. I don’t need to look at the menu.”

  Walker’s smile brightened his whole face this time. “Make that two.”

  “Two specials, two chocolate milk shakes?” Macy asked.

  He nodded. “Yep.”

  “All right.” Macy left.

  He leaned forward. “I had a look around Millie’s house today.”

  Charlotte clapped her hands over her ears. “I’m not sure I should be hearing this.”

  “I didn’t find anything, if that makes you feel better.”

  She put her hands down. The whir of the milk shake machine filled the diner. “I guess. But how much could you expect to find looking through the windows?”

  He laughed. “I wasn’t looking through the windows.”

  “You broke in?” She hissed the words as quietly as she could.

  “No breaking. Second-story window wasn’t locked.”

  She groaned. “That is so wrong.”

  “It is and it isn’t. Not when the stakes are so high. And she’ll never know I was there. Anyway, nothing to tie her to the Collective that I could find.”

  “Well, that’s good. Right?”

  “I suppose. But the woman has a lot of debt. And very little saved for retirement. That might be enough to make a person do questionable things.”

  “How much would the Collective pay for the book?”

  “Whatever it took. Seven figures. More. Money is not an issue for them.” He glanced up and stopped talking.

  Macy had arrived with their milk shakes in tall glasses. The whipped cream had been topped with a stemmed cherry. “Here you go. Be right back with your food.”

  “Thanks.” Charlotte took a long pull on the straw. The shake was perfect: cold and creamy and deeply chocolatey. “Mmm. That is exactly what I needed right there.”

  Walker swallowed a mouthful of his shake. “You’ve had a really hard day.”

  She let out a long sigh. “I wonder when I’ll be able to get back to my place. It’s a mess. I really need to get it cleaned up before I can live there again.”

  Macy returned with their plates, which were heaped with food in typical Chickadee’s style. “Anything else I can get you?”

  “I think we’re good,” Charlotte said.

  Walker nodded as he picked up his fork. “Yep.”

  Macy left. Walker dug into the meat loaf. “I’ll help you straighten it up. I wasn’t kidding about that.”

  “I know you said that, and it’s a kind offer, but...” She buttered the roll that had come with the meal. “Won’t you be off on your next assignment?”

  “They don’t typically come one right after the other. And I’ll make the time.”

  “Well, that’s nice of you. Thanks. Where is your home really?”

  He told her about the little town he lived in and she spent the rest of the meal finding out who the real Walker Black was. He was pretty much the same guy that she’d thought, just some of the details were different. By the end of the meal, she felt like she knew him well.

  And witch hunter or not, she still liked him. A lot. It had been a long time since she’d had such a nice conversation with a guy. Walker was easy to talk to. And easy to look at, which didn’t hurt either.

  As Macy dropped off the check and some boxes for the food they couldn’t finish, Charlotte’s phone chimed with an incoming text. She checked it while Walker paid.

  It was Lola. All auras unblemished. Don’t know what to tell you. Should I alert the coven about the book since they’re all clean?

  Charlotte looked up at him. “Hey, it’s Lola. She says no luck with the rest of the local circle, which is good because I’d hate to think one of those nice ladies was involved in this, but it means we still don’t know who took the book. And she wants to know if she should tell the coven about the book being missing?”

  He shook his head. “No. I don’t want it known that the book is even back in town. Not yet.”

  “Okay, I’ll tell her.” She sent Lola his answer, then put the phone away.

  Walker had already packed up her food. “Ready to go? I’m sure Edgar Allan is ready for you to be home.”

  “Oh! Edgar Allan! Yes, let’s go.” No matter how bad her day had been, a little snuggling with her cat would help.

  And maybe, if Walker played his cards right, he’d get a little snuggling too.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Edgar Allan came running toward them as soon as they walked into the apartment. He let out a meow as Charlotte scooped him up. “Hi, baby. How are you? Is it weird being in a strange place?”

  Walker raised an eyebrow at the tufts of orange cat hair decorating the last cushion on the beige sofa. That was new. But removable. Somehow. Despite being a feline shifter, cat hair cleanup wasn’t something he knew a lot about. And actually, he wasn’t sure the Marlboro House even allowed pets, but the landlord would just have to get over it. Walker wasn’t about to kick Charlotte and her cat out. It was nice having company around. Well, it was nice having them around. There wasn’t anyone else he was interested in entertaining. “I’d say he settled in just fine.”

  Charlotte glanced over. “Oh. Yikes. Sorry about the fur. I have a lint roller that will clean that up. And I’ll brush him so that doesn’t happen again. By which I mean it won’t happen as much.” She shrugged. “Cat hair is an inevitable part of life when you have a cat, especially a long-haired one. With this much fur.”

  “It doesn’t bother me.” He smiled. It really didn’t. A little errant cat hair was a small price to pay for time with her.

  Before she could respond, her phone buzzed. She shifted Edgar Allan over her shoulder like a baby so she could dig it out of her purse and answer it. “Hello? Hi, Millie. Isn’t it late for—” Charlotte frowned. “A library emergency?” She rolled her eyes at Walker. “Oh. No, that is important. Yes, I can come. Right now. Fine.” She hung up.

  Walker wasn’t sure he’d heard right. “What kind of a library emergency could there be at nearly ten at night?”

  “Apparently, we’re having a surprise inspection tomorrow morning. She wants me to meet her there now to get some things done before the inspector arrives. She says he’ll be there too early to get everything handled.”

  Walker made a face. “Are surprise library inspections actually a thing?”

  “Not really, but this is sort of a special case. She applied for a grant from some charitable organization. I guess we’re in the running for the money, which is why the inspector is coming.”

  “So you’re really going to go?”

  Her lips pressed together and she exhaled through her nose. “I don’t have much choice. She writes my performance evaluations. And she sounded odd. Like she was really nervous. If she’s that stressed out about the inspection, I don’t want to leave her hanging.”

  “You want me to come with you?”

  “Hah! No. That’s sweet of you, but Millie would freak out. More than she already is. Plus Edgar Allan’s been alone all day. I brought some of his cat toys in that tote bag. Maybe you could play with him a little? I’ll be as quick as I can.”

  “Okay. I understand. And I’d be happy to play with him.”

  “Great. He loves the feathers on the fishing pole thing. That will wear him out nicely.” She brought the cat closer so she could kiss his furry head. “You like the feather toy, don’t you, baby?”

  Edgar Allan pawed at a strand of her hair.

  She set him down. “Be a good boy.”

  “I’m sure he will be.” Walker leaned in and kissed her cheek. “See you when you
get back.”

  Her cheeks went a little pink, which was incredibly charming. “You don’t have to wait up.”

  “Like hell I don’t.”

  She bit her lip like she was trying to hold back a smile. “Okay, see you when I get back.”

  She left. Walker found the toy and played with Edgar Allan until he stopped chasing the pretty colored feathers and just lay on the floor waiting for them to come to him. Walker laughed. “Lazy bones.”

  He put the toy away and went to get himself a beer from the fridge. He drank it looking out one of the dormer windows, watching for the headlights of Charlotte’s car. Edgar Allan jumped up to sit on the sill. Walker scratched the cat on the head, and the animal started to purr. It was a comforting sound. Walker wondered what Edgar Allan would do if he purred right back at him. Or shifted into his leopard form.

  That might not go as well.

  He contented himself with just petting the cat, but by the time the beer was half gone, he still hadn’t seen any sign of Charlotte’s return. His witch hunter senses began to niggle at him, but he told himself that nothing odd was going on. Charlotte wasn’t alarmed by the call, so there was no reason for him to be paranoid about it either.

  He hoped.

  Another few minutes passed. He ditched the bottle and the last swig of beer, no longer able to ignore the foreboding in his gut. He called Charlotte’s cell phone. Straight to voicemail. He found Millie’s cell number in the file that Stillwell had sent, and rang her. Also straight to voicemail. Finally, he pulled up the library’s phone number and dialed. It rang six times. The alarm in his head got louder each time. He hung up on the seventh. “I don’t like that, Edgar Allan. I don’t like it at all.”

  What kind of library prep could make Charlotte and Millie both too busy to answer the phone?

  With the knot in his stomach growing ever tighter, he grabbed his jacket and keys, and ran down the stairs to his truck.

  His gut rarely failed him, but this time, he prayed it was wrong.

  Charlotte parked in the rear of the library like Millie had told her to. There wasn’t a place to put her car in with Millie’s car already there, so she had to block Millie, but Charlotte figured that was no big deal considering that she’d shown up to work at ten p.m. That was about as above and beyond the call of duty as you could get. Honestly. And if that didn’t earn her some parking freedom, then nothing would.