Some Like It Witchy

by Heather Blake

  Besides, I was rather curious as to why he wanted to speak with me.

  “Sure,” I said. Half the bench was in shadow, and I quickly parked myself on the shady side. I wasn’t taking any risks.

  Arching an eyebrow, he sat next to me. Sunbeams fell across his face as he ran a hand along the bench’s well-worn armrest. “I heard about Mrs. P’s death and her subsequent return. She’s doing well?”

  It was still odd to not see Mrs. P sitting on the bench in her velour jogging suit, her hair sky high, her laughter punctuating the air. Her death the previous January had been shocking, and her passing had taken a twist I hadn’t expected. Mrs. P was the newest familiar on the block. A chubby white mouse with spiky fur between her ears and the same boisterous laugh. “She’s good. Happy.”

  “I’m pleased to hear it.”

  I searched for a way to segue from speaking about Mrs. P to asking if he was a cold-blooded killer. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t bring myself to blurt out my suspicions. “How long have you been back in the village?” I asked instead, studying him.

  I’d known him to be kind.

  He had the ability to see black and white auras around others, and he’d warned me when he’d seen dark energy around me. He’d cast a protection spell for me when I needed it most.

  I’d also known him to be wicked.

  Breaking and entering. Lying. Cheating.

  It suddenly struck me that his dual faces matched his dual personalities. He was good. And he was evil.

  Mixed together, they made for one heck of a complex man.

  “A few days now,” he said slowly, eyeing me carefully.

  Sizing me up.

  I tried not to let it bother me. Which was infinitely easier when he looked like a movie star and not the keeper of the dead.

  He didn’t seem to have aged much in the past year, and again I was reminded of Dracula and his ability to de-age when drinking blood. Nearly fifty, he should have a lot more fine lines and wrinkles, but there were only a few that appeared in his cheeks and the corners of his downturned eyes when he smiled. The silver strands sparkling in his hair were the only giveaway that he might be older than he looked.

  “Do you have a house in the village?” I asked. I had never considered where he stayed when he was in town. Some of the Roving Stones vendors had rooms at the Pixie Cottage. Others at hotels on the outskirts of the village, in Salem proper. Where he stayed was a mystery. He was a mystery.

  “No,” he said, shaking his head. “While in town, I stay with friends.”

  He had friends? “Who?”

  “People.”

  “What kind?”

  He full-out smiled. A hundred watts of charm. “The usual variety.”

  “Is there a reason you’re being evasive?”

  “Is there a reason you’re being so nosy?”

  I dropped my voice. “You might have heard I’m working in an official capacity for the Elder. Your name came up this morning in regard to Raina.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Did it?”

  Interesting that he didn’t deny knowing I was the Craft snoop, and I wondered who supplied him with village gossip. He had a twenty-something-year-old son—Lazarus—but he traveled with the Roving Stones as well and wouldn’t have been privy to a lot of what was going on since the last time the Stones had been in town. I didn’t know of any other Woodshalls in the village.

  His father had been killed after the Circe Heist, but what had happened to his mother? Where was she? So many questions, but I had to focus on the most important first.

  “Did you know her well?” I asked. “Raina?”

  “What makes you think I knew her at all?” he countered calmly.

  “Just a feeling.” A bad feeling at that.

  “Feelings can be manipulated,” he said, leaning into the shadows as though proving a point.

  It was clear he was well aware of his metamorphic abilities. It was good to know.

  I gently pushed him backward into the light and said, “Initial instincts are rarely wrong. You know Raina. How? Is it the house? Are you one of the potential buyers?”

  He tensed. “What do you know of the property?”

  “Enough to know that it may be worth much more than its listing price,” I said. “Especially to you.”

  “Indeed,” he said. His gaze narrowed. “I heard Raina interrupted a burglary. Do you know if the burglar found what he was looking for?”

  This was why he wanted to talk to me. He wanted to know if the diamonds had been found. So, he was either truly curious or trying to make me believe he hadn’t been the burglar.

  Complex.

  I didn’t know which idea to believe, so I stayed neutral. “I don’t know.”

  “I see.” Apparently he was done with me, as he abruptly stood. “I should be going. There is much to do in preparation for the Roving Stones.” He bowed. “It’s been enlightening, Ms. Merriweather.”

  I stood, too, but resisted reaching out to grab his arm. As much as I didn’t want to let him go without getting a single answer out of him, I absolutely didn’t want to touch him. “Where were you this morning? Do you have an alibi?”

  True humor crinkled his eyes. “I had a . . . meeting.”

  “With whom?”

  “A friend.”

  “What’s the friend’s name?” I pressed.

  Before he could answer, a voice from behind me said, “I’d like to know as well.”

  I turned and found an imposing-looking Nick. Wide stance, hard eyes, grim set to his lips, his strong chin jutted. It was what I called his police chief face.

  Which, in all honesty, wasn’t all that different from his regular everyday face. He didn’t allow himself to fully let go and just be very often. He was a protector by nature. Always on guard. I treasured the times the hard edges softened and his eyes would fill with happiness. It did my heart good.

  And him being here right now? I felt myself relax a little. Safety in numbers.

  “Ah, good to see you again, Chief,” Andreus said, offering a hand shake.

  Nick reluctantly shook. “If you have an alibi for this morning, Andreus, I’d like to hear it.”

  “I’m sure you would,” he responded. “I cannot give it, however.”

  “Why not?” I asked him.

  “It’s the nature of secrets, Ms. Merriweather. They’re meant to be kept.”

  “Not always,” I said. Not in matters of life and death.

  Andreus tapped his chin. “Perhaps you are right, and I am, alas, wrong. Or perhaps, if you’re so curious about secrets, you should discuss the matter with the Elder. She and secrets go hand in hand, no?”

  Uncomfortable, I shifted my weight. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  From my many encounters with Andreus, I’d learned he rarely said anything flat out. His sentences were laced with undercurrents that could drown someone if she had the misfortune of getting caught up in them.

  I was caught.

  He’d baited me with a riddle about the Elder, obviously knowing that learning her secrets was one of my weaknesses.

  Nick stepped a bit closer to me, offering his silent support. He knew how my curiosity burned for more information of the Craft’s leader.

  With dark eyes growing wide and his eyebrows inching upward, Andreus feigned innocence. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “Do you know who she is?” I asked point-blank. Glug, glug. Drowning was as painful as I’d always imagined.

  For the briefest of seconds, I thought I saw his eyes soften. But it must have been a trick of the light, because he suddenly grinned mischievously. “Of course I know who the Elder is, as I was at her appointment many moons ago. Most of us in the village know who she is. Except you don’t know, do you? Poor thing. Left in the dark. One has to wonde
r why.” He tsked.

  I could feel my cheeks flushing, and I hated that he could see that he was getting under my skin.

  “But the Elder’s business is not of my concern,” he continued. “Just as my business should not be of concern to her”—he arched an eyebrow—“or her puppet.”

  That was it. I’d had it with him. I stepped forward, ready to jab him in the chest with an accusatory finger, which was saying something, because it meant touching him. But fortunately Nick suddenly sidestepped in front of me.

  “Enough,” he said sternly to the both of us.

  I huffed as Andreus winked at me.

  Winked!

  The gall of the man.

  Nick pulled a clear plastic evidence bag from his pocket and held it up. Inside the bag was the amulet that had been in Raina’s palm this morning when I found her. The charm was a stunning work of art. A thick golden rope chain held the amulet, which was rimmed in colorful gemstones and crystals.

  “Do you recognize this?” Nick asked him.

  Andreus’s eyebrows dropped into a deep furrow as he pretended to contemplate the amulet. He finally said, “My memory isn’t so good these days.”

  Nick’s forehead wrinkled as he threw Andreus a dubious look. “Perhaps a trip to the station will give it a jog.”

  Andreus’s smirk was full of menace. “Is that a threat, Chief?”

  “Merely a suggestion. However, I do need to ask you some questions regarding the murder of Raina Gallagher, so it wouldn’t be a wasted trip.”

  “Now is not such a good time for me.” Andreus glanced at his watch. He looked up, staring at Nick dead-on. He tipped an imaginary hat. “Good day to you both.”

  We watched as he strode away. Movement in my peripheral vision caught my attention, and I shifted my gaze to see a young gangly golden retriever galloping toward Andreus, his leash dragging behind him.

  Clarence.

  Drawing in a deep breath, I looked around for his owner and found her near a lamppost giving me a death stare.

  Glinda Hansel.

  Andreus knelt on one knee and let the dog slobber his face with kisses. Glinda finally tore her gaze from mine and went after her dog.

  When Andreus stood, he gave Glinda a kiss on her cheek, linked arms with her, and headed off in the direction of her house.

  My mouth had fallen open in shock.

  Nick used the tip of his finger to nudge my chin upward. I snapped my mouth closed.

  Cocking my head, I said, “What’s Glinda have to do with Andreus?”

  Nick shook his head. “Nothing good, I imagine.”

  It was a complication I didn’t need in this case . . . or my life.

  Nick’s deep brown gaze searched my face. “Are you doing okay? Rough morning.”

  The day so far had been nothing short of a nightmare, but here, now, with him? All was okay in my world. It had taken so long for me to get to this point. My heart had broken after my disastrous marriage, and I never thought I’d love again. I’d been okay with that. I had friends. Family. A new job. A new life.

  Then I met Nick. He’d picked up those broken pieces. And put them back where they belonged. I loved him with a fierceness that I couldn’t quite explain.

  I let myself get lost in his eyes for a moment, soaking up the concern . . . and the love I saw there.

  “Yeah, it was,” I said. “I’m okay. I’m just . . . Well, you know.”

  There was no need to describe to him the emotions that came with finding a dead body. Of knowing someone had deliberately taken a life. He’d worked most of his adult life in some sort of law enforcement. He knew how it felt, the mix of sadness and anger.

  “Unfortunately,” he said, pulling me in for a hug.

  I held on just a little longer than usual. “Plus, Andreus . . .”

  Letting me go, Nick threw a glance in the direction Andreus had gone. “That’s understandable.”

  I looked back toward the Tavistock house. “Any leads? Suspects?”

  Nick nudged me with his elbow. “I should be asking you. I heard you asking Andreus about his alibi. If you’re investigating, it means there’s Crafting involved.”

  “You didn’t happen to find a bunch of diamonds when you searched the house, did you?” I asked, keeping my voice low.

  “Diamonds?” Confusion filled his eyes.

  I quickly explained about Circe’s diamonds, Andreus’s father’s involvement with the heist, and the treasure hunters.

  Nick pushed his palms into his eyes. “The Circe Heist? My God. No, no diamonds were found, but that does help explain loose paneling in the closet and the bloody pry bar in the backyard.”

  “Pry bar?”

  “It appears to be the murder weapon.”

  I winced and told him of my working theories. Of how I suspected someone was after the diamonds . . . or lying in wait for Raina and using the diamonds as a cover.

  “Did you question Kent yet?” I asked. “When I saw him earlier, he didn’t seem too upset about the death of his wife.”

  “He tried to muster some grief, but I saw right through it. With a little pressure, he admitted he filed for divorce a couple of days ago. Irreconcilable differences. He hadn’t even told Raina yet.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

  “Apparently, they’d been having relationship trouble for a while.”

  “It’s not really surprising, considering.” I told him what I knew of their mortal-Crafter marriage and how Harper had overheard their heated argument last week. “They certainly kept their issues quiet, though. There hadn’t even been a whisper of trouble until that fight.”

  “Raina’s death makes his life a whole lot easier, doesn’t it?” Nick said.

  No divorce battle. No division of assets. “It does. We need to find out what happens to the agency. From what Harper overheard, it was Raina’s business. Did she have provisions in place for Kent to inherit it if something happened to her?”

  “Kent’s coming in later with his lawyer, and I’ll get more answers.”

  “Did he have an alibi?”

  “Claimed he was with clients during the time frame Raina was murdered. I still need to verify it, however.”

  “What was the time frame?” I asked.

  “The ME on the scene placed it between nine thirty and ten.”

  I hated thinking that it was possible Raina was being killed while Cherise and I were sitting outside waiting for her. “One thing . . . Raina was notoriously early for appointments. Anyone who knew her well would know that.”

  “Like Kent?” he asked.

  “You might want to talk to Noelle Quinlan as well.”

  His eyebrows shot up in question.

  “As Raina’s biggest rival, she has a lot to gain from Raina’s death.” I shrugged. “And as a colleague, she’d know Raina’s habit of arriving early, too. I’m sure she’s scheduled many appointments with her.”

  “But would either of them know about the diamonds to use a burglary as a cover-up?” he asked.

  “Apparently, most of the village knows about the diamonds. As real estate agents, they have to know the history of the house.”

  I glanced at my watch.

  “Where are you off to?” he asked.

  “I need to pry information from Evan about Raina. Then I have to stop by Calliope’s to return some of her things. And I need to find out more about the Circe Heist. Ve and Cherise were fairly tight-lipped.”

  He smiled, knowing what I had planned. “Pepe?”

  “And Mrs. P. If they don’t know anything, then no one knows anything.”

  “I’d like to know more about this amulet, too,” he said, holding it up. “What was it for? Why did Raina have it?”

  “It doesn’t seem as though Andreus is going to answer that question,”
I said. He didn’t seem to want to answer anything. Even though I hated asking for help, I might have to ask the Elder to speak with him. She and I were on good terms these days. Peaceful. Harmonious. As long as I did exactly what she said, we got along swimmingly. It had been months since I’d been to talk to her.

  I kind of missed her. Not that I’d say so.

  “And why was it in Raina’s hand?” I asked, thinking out loud. “Was it placed in her hand by the killer to throw us off track and put our attention on Andreus?”

  “You think someone’s framing him?” Nick asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “But doesn’t it just seem a little too cut-and-dried for Raina to have Andreus’s amulet in her hand and his initial on the wall?”

  “Sometimes cases are cut-and-dried, Darcy.”

  “Around here?”

  “I see what you mean. But if the killer chose him specifically to frame, why? Because of the link to the diamonds?”

  “Undoubtedly. And we can’t rule out that he planted the amulet himself to throw off suspicion. Make it appear that he’s being framed.”

  Nick nodded. “I can see him doing that.”

  Me, too. Easily. I nodded toward the baggie in his hand. “Can you send me a photo of the amulet before you put it in the evidence locker? Andreus isn’t the only one in this village who’s a Charmcrafter. I might be able to get answers from someone else.”

  “Good idea.” He glanced toward the Tavistock house. “I need to get back. I’d like to get the crime scene cleared before school lets out. You know how Mimi gets. She’ll be hanging on the fence if I’m still in there.”

  “She’ll still be hanging on the fence whether you’re there or not.”

  He laughed. “You’re probably right. She’ll be as immersed in this case as we are by supper time.”

  “That long?” I teased. Once Mimi caught wind of what happened, she was going to ask every question that came to mind. She was a mini-Harper that way. Nick had long since given up on trying to quell her interest in police work. And having just turned thirteen, she was old enough to know what was going on—with some of the gorier details left out.