The Halloween Love Spell

by Morgana Best

  I fetched a piece of paper and wrote Marina’s and Alex’s name on it along with the outcome, and then put that under a pink candle. I had chosen a tealight candle, because I knew it would burn through by opening time.

  It didn’t take me long to cast the spell, but I had to light the candle three times to get the flame going. This was not at all a propitious start to the spell. Once I was satisfied that the flame would not go out again, I turned my attention to the health spell for the jasmine plant. I examined it closely, and wondered if I had over watered it. It looked half dead. I had put it in a little ceramic potted plant holder that I’d found at a garage sale of one of my neighbours the previous week. Its vivid blue colour had drawn me in and it was only twenty cents. Despite that, it had a single tiny hole in the bottom. I had placed several little stones in the bottom to try to encourage the plant to drain more.

  Still, staring at it wouldn’t help, so I fetched the ingredients for the health spell: rue, comfrey, and asafoetida. I glanced at my phone and saw to my dismay that it was only five minutes until I had to open the shop. I must have been carried away with the love spell. I hurried out to the front door to unlock it, and flipped the sign to Open.

  Hopefully, I wouldn’t have any early customers, so I planned to do a quick spell for the plant and then do an in-depth one later, if necessary. I decided not to light a candle for this health spell, and the love spell candle had already gone out. I assembled the ingredients, and then said the first thing that came into my head, “Jasmine, grow and be healthy. I raise you up now to come back to life. Jasmine, revive!”

  There was a flash of white light, and I staggered backwards. I steadied myself against a chair and looked around. For a minute, I thought Camino had come in with her onesie batteries switched on. I had no time to ponder the strangeness of the situation, because I heard a noise in the front of the shop.

  I hurried out to serve the customer, but stopped in my tracks. The customer was smoking, and making pleasurable sounds. “I haven’t smoked in years,” she said to me by way of greeting.

  “You’re not allowed to smoke in here,” I told her. “I’m sorry, but it’s illegal to smoke in a shop.”

  She looked me up and down and continued to smoke. I was at a loss as to what to do with someone so openly defiant. Although she spoke English well, I figured she must be an international visitor to the country. After all, she had no idea about our smoking laws, and was dressed rather differently. Her long, floral dress fell to just below her knees. It was high necked and tight wasted. The sleeves were short. The pattern was rather pretty, a pale cream dress with tiny little scarlet flowers sporting little green buds all over it. What was strange, however, was that she was wearing short white gloves and a white hat with something like a mesh bow sitting both on top and behind it.

  “Who are you?” she snapped at me.

  The woman made me uneasy. “Amelia Spelled. I own this shop.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Any relation to Thelma Spelled?”

  “Yes, she was my grandmother.”

  The woman laughed. She was an attractive woman, but there was something about her that made her unlikeable. “I have some questions for you.”

  Before she could continue, Ruprecht and Camino arrived. “Sorry we’re late,” they said in unison. The woman at once left the shop.

  I waved their apologies away. “That’s fine. Ruprecht, are you sure you’re okay to mind the shop?”

  He nodded. “Camino can help me between coffee customers. Now you enjoy yourself with Thyme and Dawson, and don’t worry about us. And good luck with your bank loan.”

  “Thanks.” I popped into the back room and grabbed my handbag before hurrying out the door. The woman was waiting for me outside and followed me to my car. “I have some questions for you,” she said again. She shrieked and clutched her throat when a car went past.

  I jumped into my car and rolled the car window down. “Sure, come back to the shop later.” She made to protest, but I drove off, leaving her standing on the street, looking shocked.

  I was nervous going to the bank for a loan, and it didn’t help that Myles Woods kept me waiting. I already disliked him, and I hadn’t even met him yet. He couldn’t be held up with a client—after all, my appointment was early, so I would be his first customer.

  He finally showed up fifteen minutes after the time set for my appointment. I had already taken in the bank in detail before he got there—the musty atmosphere, the faded green carpet, the flickering lighting. This place could do with a good renovation. I had been sitting next to a well-groomed woman who spoke loudly on her phone the whole time.

  “Miss Spelled?” he asked me, looking me up and down.

  I stood up. “Yes.” He seemed to be in his late thirties, with ginger hair, a bright red face, and a superior attitude.

  He offered his free hand, and I shook it. His handshake was limp and clammy.

  “Myles Woods,” he said over his shoulder as we headed to his room.

  He set his coffee cup down and then swung his desktop computer screen around so I couldn’t see it. “Sit down.” It was more like a command than a polite request.

  I sat down, and pressed my heels into the ground to stop my knees shaking.

  “I was going over your files in the back room,” he said without looking at me. “What can I do for you?”

  “I want a loan for renovation work for my shop,” I said, and would have said more, but he interrupted me.

  “A business loan?”

  I faltered. “I suppose so.”

  He leant back in his chair and linked his hands behind his neck. “A cupcake store, hmm. My aunt who moved to England owns a cupcake store. She’s done quite well with it. Actually, it could be a tea room. Isn’t that what they call them over there?” He laughed and threw his head back, showing a full set of yellow teeth.

  I forced a smile.

  He landed the chair and leant forward. “You don’t have any mortgages with this bank,” he said through pursed lips. It sounded like an accusation.

  “I don’t owe any money on my house or my shop, so I don’t have mortgages.”

  He tapped his pen on the desk. “The point is, you don’t have any mortgages with this bank, so it makes your application more difficult.”

  I rubbed my forehead. This wasn’t going as well as I had hoped. “But isn’t that good? I mean, I don’t owe any money.”

  He shook his head. “It’s more of a problem that you’re self-employed.”

  “The business is doing well, though. Here’s my accountant’s card.” I handed it to him across the desk.

  He looked at the card briefly and then set it aside. “If you really want to get a loan, then you should have a wage. It is far easier for banks to give loans to people who draw a wage. You know what I always say about people who are self-employed?”

  “No?” I said in a small voice.

  “Self-employed—shoot yourself in the foot. Self-employed—shoot yourself in the foot.” He looked up at me with a frown. “That’s what I always say. It’s always harder to give self-employed people a loan.” He held up a hand, palm outwards. “They’re not my rules, you understand. They’re the bank’s rules. I can’t do anything about the bank’s rules. I hope you understand that.” He paused to slurp some coffee.

  “Err, yes, yes,” I stammered.

  “So did you wish to apply for a personal loan or a business loan?” he asked me, his pen hovering over his notepad.

  “I don’t really know,” I said. “I was hoping you could advise me.”

  “It doesn’t really help that you don’t have a mortgage,” he said. “If you had a mortgage, we could simply renegotiate your mortgage. Of course, it doesn’t help that you’re self-employed.”

  I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. If he said ‘self-employed’ one more time, I thought I would scream. Right now, I fully believed that he had falsely accused Alex Waring. I believed the man capable of anything. He was pompous,
officious, and downright irritating.

  “Are you saying that you can’t give me a loan?”

  His face flushed bright red. “I didn’t say anything of the sort, Miss Spelled. I’ll thank you not to put words in my mouth. Now, do you own the shop and the house?”

  I nodded. “Yes, of course I do.”

  “I’ll need some proof. I’ll need to see the deeds to both. It wouldn’t do for you to be putting up property for security if you don’t own it.” He scowled at me.

  I debated whether to walk out then and there and go to another bank. I took another deep breath. “Of course I own the property. Also, I was given to understand that this would be an unsecured loan.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “Yes, but the bank will look unfavourably on someone who has tried to pass off someone else’s property as her own.”

  I was quite angry now. “I haven’t done any such thing,” I said.

  He held up his hand again. “Now there’s no need to become angry with me, Miss Spelled. I have already told you that I don’t make the rules. The bank makes the rules. How much money do you need?”

  “Fifteen thousand dollars,” I said.

  “Do you have any credit cards?”

  I shook my head.

  “And you only bank with us? You have no other bank accounts?”

  “That’s right,” I said.

  “Why don’t you get a credit card for fifteen thousand dollars? We can make the application now.”

  “I don’t want a credit card,” I said. “The interest on fifteen thousand dollars would be really high. I just want a simple loan with a low interest rate so I can do repairs to my roof.”

  “Repairs?” he said in horror. “I thought you said renovation work. Are you saying that your shop does not meet with Council standards?”

  “I simply want to do a new roof so there won’t be any problems in the future. It’s all to code,” I said through clenched teeth. “If you don’t think your bank can give me a loan, then I can go elsewhere.”

  I made to rise, but he waved me back down. “I’ll make your application online now.” He tapped away at the keys for what seemed an age and then loosened his collar. “I see,” he said several minutes later. “The computer seems to like your application.”

  I was utterly relieved. “That’s good.”

  He shook his head and his eye twitched violently. “The computer is just the first hurdle. It has to go to my superiors now.”

  “Is there anything else I need to do?” I asked him.

  “Not for now. Just fill out these forms, and drop them into the front desk at the bank. After that, I’ll be in touch with the news, either good or bad.”

  “Thank you.” I looked at the forms in horror. There had to be about fifty pages. I stood up and turned around, just as a woman burst through the door.

  “I saw you through there,” she said, pointing to the glass panels that made up the front wall of the man’s office.

  I had no idea whether she was speaking to Myles Woods or to me, because he jumped to his feet. “Put that cigarette out!” he snapped at her. “It’s illegal to smoke inside a bank. Besides, you’ll set off all the smoke alarms.”

  The woman rounded on him in a fury. I took the opportunity to escape while she was distracted. Now I was really worried. I didn’t know what this woman wanted with me, or why she thought I could answer her questions.

  Chapter 4

  I smiled at the café owner as I walked over to Thyme and Dawson. They hadn’t noticed me, of course, so engrossed they were in each other.

  When I sat at the table, on the uncomfortable bench against the far wall, Thyme looked up. “How did it go at the bank?”

  I groaned and put a nearby cushion behind my back. “It wasn’t as straightforward as I thought.”

  “Did you get the loan?” she asked me.

  I shrugged one shoulder. “Well, he didn’t say I wouldn’t get it, but there’s a lot more red tape than I thought. I have to fill out a million pages of documents, and that’s not much of an exaggeration.” I pulled a face. “Plus he was mean, really mean.”

  I jumped when someone lightly kissed my head. Thyme went into fits of giggles. “Do you always jump when Alder kisses you?”

  “I’m just a bit stressed after that bank interview,” I told her.

  Alder sat next to me. “Rough?”

  I nodded. “You could say that.” Alder had offered to lend me the money, but I could hardly take him up on it. It just wouldn’t feel right.

  “Did you get the loan?”

  I rubbed my temples. “I was just telling Thyme and Dawson that the bank guy wants me to fill out a whole stack of forms and drop them back to the bank. He was super annoyed that I’m self-employed. He went on and on about it. He said it would be easy if I earned a wage.”

  Alder’s expression darkened. “Why, that’s ridiculous! You own your house and shop outright. You don’t even have a mortgage.”

  I groaned. “Yes, and he was even upset that I didn’t have a mortgage. He said if I had a mortgage with his bank, then it would be a simple matter.”

  Alder was visibly incensed. “Why, he sounds like a real…”

  He didn’t have the opportunity to finish his sentence, because Dawson’s phone rang. “You’re kidding,” Dawson said into the phone. “Murder? Poison? The bank?” He shot a look at me. “I’ll be right there,” he said as he jumped to his feet. “Amelia, the bank guy—was his name Myles Woods, by any chance?”

  A sensation of dread settled in the pit of my stomach. “Yes?” I squeaked.

  “He’s dead, and it looks like murder.” With that, Dawson kissed Thyme goodbye and hurried out of the café.

  The three of us stared at each other, our jaws open. “I didn’t do it,” I said.

  Both Thyme and Alder hurried to reassure me. “Of course you didn’t,” they both said in unison.

  The café walls receded, and for a moment I feared I would faint. I just couldn’t believe it. Only a few minutes earlier I had been speaking with someone who was now dead, murdered, in fact. “I bet it was that strange woman,” I said. When I was met with blank looks, I continued. “Just after I opened the shop this morning, the first customer was a woman who was smoking. I told her smoking wasn’t allowed in shops, and she seemed quite angry, but she said she had some questions to ask me. She even followed me out to my car. When I was about to leave Myles Woods’ office, she came in and said she had some questions to ask me. Or maybe she was talking to him.”

  “How did she know you were there?” Alder asked me. “Did she follow you?”

  I shrugged. “I have no idea. She was waiting outside for me. Maybe she overheard Ruprecht say that I was going to the bank. Anyway, she was smoking when she went into the guy’s office, and he was angry with her. She said again that she wanted to ask some questions, but they had an exchange of words, so I slipped out.”

  Thyme leant over the table. “You have any idea who she is?”

  I shook my head. “No, but she could be with the local amateur theatre group. She was wearing white gloves and sort of old-fashioned clothes you know, vintage clothes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her in town before.”

  “And with what you told me this morning, you don’t need that hassle, not with having to do those spells for Marina,” Thyme said with a frown.

  I slapped myself on the head. “How could I have forgotten? When I called you both this morning and told you about the spells Marina wanted me to do, I didn’t tell you, did I?”

  Alder smiled patiently. “You didn’t tell us what?”

  “It was Myles Woods! Remember I said Marina wanted me to do a love spell for her and Alex Waring?” They both nodded. “Well, the person Alex was sure set him up was Myles Woods.”

  Alder shook his head. “I don’t like it. I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

  I agreed. “You and me both. Alder, I’m going to be a suspect, aren’t I?”

  He thought for
a while before answering. “Hopefully, that woman who went in after you will be a suspect, and it sounds like this guy had made himself a lot of enemies. I won’t lie to you Amelia; I’m sure the police will suspect you, but I don’t think they will see you as a serious suspect. I’m sure they will question you simply to exclude you. After all, it was the first time you’d met the man, and I’m sure the police won’t think you carry poison around on your person just to poison people you don’t like.”

  “Are you talking about me?” a voice screeched from behind me.

  I turned around to see Kayleen, the particularly irritating and exceptionally nosy busybody of a mail lady. “No, I’m talking about the man who was just murdered at the bank.”

  Kayleen’s face lit up, and she at once took the seat Dawson had just vacated. “There’s been a murder? Tell me more.” Her eyes positively glowed.

  “We don’t know much,” I told her, “only that Dawson was just called away to a murder at the bank.”

  “Is that really all you know?” she asked me, an abundance of suspicion in her tone.

  “Yes,” I said, “but if you go to the bank, the police will be there right now. It’s only just happened.”

  She left the café in great haste, not even bothering to say goodbye.

  “It will be all over town in five minutes flat,” Thyme said.

  My hand flew to my mouth. “I just thought of something. Marina will be a suspect, and so will Alex Waring.”

  Alder patted my arm, sending electric shocks coursing through my body, as was usual at his touch. “I think there are going to be plenty of suspects. I think you, Marina, and Alex Waring will just be a drop in the ocean.”

  “I suppose we should all get together and do a few spells,” I said. “I know I’ll have to give a witness statement at the very least. I just don’t feel up to being questioned by detectives.”