Doom and Broom (Spellbound Paranormal Cozy Mystery Book 2)

by Annabel Chase

“Was she alone?”

  “No, her mother was with her. And Kayla and maybe Alex’s sister. I’m not sure.”

  Witnesses were good. Of course, if most of their meetings had been in secret, it would be difficult to prove he hadn’t been with her.

  “Do you have an alibi for this morning?” I asked.

  “No. I was alone.”

  The selfish part of me was relieved, but the practical part of me didn’t like his answer.

  “I think you should plop yourself in a chair in the sheriff’s office and wait for him to show up,” I said.

  “But you don’t trust the sheriff,” he said.

  “I don’t, but what are your options?” The sheriff had proven himself lazy and would likely lunge at the easy option. He could easily paint Daniel and Jolene as star-crossed lovers. Desperate to keep his beloved from wedded bliss with another man, he murdered her. A paranormal Romeo and Juliet.

  “I could hide until this blows over,” Daniel said.

  “No, that makes you look guilty.”

  “They know I can’t really go anywhere,” he said with a shrug. “I’d have to emerge eventually. Hopefully, after they figure out the real reason for her death.”

  Instinctively, I reached for his hand. “Daniel, I don’t want you to disappear.”

  He gave me a crooked smile. “Why? Miss me already?”

  I finished my latte, letting the warmth thread its way through my system. “I don’t want you to appear guilty to everyone in Spellbound. What if they stop pursuing the investigation because they’re too busy pursuing you?” It happened all the time in the human world. The detectives became focused on one suspect and ignored all the other evidence.

  He groaned. “You make a good point.”

  “So what are you going to do?” I asked.

  “What do you recommend?”

  I weighed the options. “How about this? Come and stay with me, that way I know where you are. If anyone asks, I can say that you’re on a spiritual retreat or something and that I know where to find you in an emergency. And I’ll do what I can to look into her death.”

  He leaned back in his chair. “A little soon to move into together, don’t you think? We haven’t even had our first date.”

  My stomach flipped like a pancake. Now was not the time for him to flirt with me. He’d just had a shot of common sense, for crying out loud.

  “You’re off the market, remember?” He told me he was turning over a new leaf, that he planned to redeem himself for past behavior and swear off the opposite sex.

  He winked. “And you’re far too sensible to get involved with a disgraced angel like me.”

  I sat up straighter. “That’s right,” I said with a little too much emphasis. Me doth protest too much.

  He pushed back his chair and stood. “So let’s go home, sweetheart.”

  I rolled my eyes. I hoped the investigation was wrapped up quickly. I had a feeling that between Gareth, Daniel and me, three was definitely going to be a crowd.

  Sedgwick waited for us outside Brew-Ha-Ha.

  Where did you find Daniel? I asked.

  On a cliff top overlooking Swan Lake.

  I should have known. His thinking spot.

  He was reading a book of poetry, Sedgwick continued. What’s wrong with him?

  He’s a delicate flower, I said. And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.

  Says you.

  It was honestly one of the qualities I liked most about Daniel. Not the fact that he was broodier than a vampire, but the fact that he was willing to feel, even when it was difficult. Fallen or not, people could learn a thing or two from an angel like him.

  Chapter 4

  Together, we soared over the town, silent and serious. I clung to him for dear life and tried desperately not to lose my latte.

  “Shall I carry you over the threshold?” Daniel asked, once we arrived at my house.

  “Ha ha. Not remotely funny.”

  I unlocked the door and called out to Gareth. I wanted to give him an immediate update on the situation. He was going to love this arrangement. Any opportunity to torture me. He was quickly becoming the scary older brother I never wanted.

  “Oh look,” Daniel said. “There’s Gareth’s pet. With that patchwork head of his, he’s really more of Frankenstein’s cat, isn’t he?”

  Magpie trotted into the foyer, looking like the cat that ate the canary. For a brief second, I wondered if he had, in fact, eaten a canary. I fervently hoped none of my neighbors was missing a bird.

  “If you’re staying here, then you need to be nice to Magpie,” I said. I didn’t love the cat either, but this was his home and I wouldn’t allow him to be insulted here.

  “Oh, I see you’ve brought your fallen friend home,” Gareth said, observing Daniel. “Be sure to put a sock on the doorknob. And not one of those unattractive knee socks you’re so fond of.”

  “You put a sock in it,” I said. “Daniel is staying here until a situation blows over.”

  “What situation?” He seemed intrigued. “Jealous husband?”

  “Not your business.”

  “It’s my business if he’s staying in my house.”

  I gave Gareth my most threatening look. Granted, on a scale of Kansas to New Jersey, it was closer to South Carolina, but still.

  “This is my house, remember?” I said. “When are you going to get that through your transparent mind?”

  Daniel took a step backward. “Maybe this is a bad idea.”

  I spun around. “You. Stay put.” I rounded on Gareth. “And you. Stop being a curmudgeon. Daniel needs our help and we’re going to offer it.”

  Gareth developed a sudden interest in the floorboards. “Fine,” he muttered and then dissipated.

  “There are several empty rooms upstairs,” I said. “You even get a choice.”

  Daniel followed me upstairs to assess the bedroom options.

  “Do you think maybe I should stay in the attic instead?” he queried. “What if someone sees me?”

  “In one of the bedrooms?” I asked. “I don’t see how that’s possible. The only one here is Gareth and he can’t communicate with anyone except me.” I was such a lucky girl.

  Daniel halted. “I don’t want to create a problem for you. Sheriff Hugo already dislikes you. If he finds out about this…”

  “Then it won’t cost me anything I haven’t already lost.” I beckoned him forward. “Let’s go, Wingman.”

  He chose the chintz bedroom, which made me laugh. Not that the alternatives were much better. Gareth had clearly opted to experiment when decorating the guest bedrooms. One bedroom was painted bright yellow and all the furniture was brass. Gareth referred to it as the sunroom. Although I’d tackled the downstairs, I’d yet to redecorate upstairs.

  “Is there anything you want from your house?” I asked. “A favorite bedtime toy? Clothes? I’m happy to get it for you.” I was asking to be nice, but also because I was nosy. I hadn’t been to Daniel’s house and was interested to get a peek inside.

  He picked up a snow globe off the dresser and shook it. Fake snowflakes filled the glass, obscuring the snowman and reindeer from view. “No, thanks. It’s a little dusty in here. Didn’t you hire a fairy cleaning service?”

  I snapped my fingers. Fiona owned The Magic Touch. She and her gang of scrubbing fairies would be a problem. I’d have to cancel their visits until Daniel left. “Old houses are dust magnets. I’ll take care of it and make sure to cancel Fiona.”

  “Ask him if he likes his eggs scrambled or fried,” Gareth said. “And maybe he’d like a mint on his pillow in the evenings.”

  I ignored him and focused on Daniel.

  “I’m going to send Sedgwick with a note to Fiona and then I’m going to practice my wandwork for class. I’ll make dinner in about an hour.”

  “Holy darkness, are you trying to murder him?” Gareth asked, clutching his chest.

  “I’m a decent cook,” Daniel said. “Why don’t I make d
inner for us?”

  “Smarter than he looks,” Gareth said.

  “Do you like chess?” Daniel asked. “Maybe we could play after dinner?”

  “That would be great.” Except I had no clue how to play chess. “I’m planning an early night, though. I need to drop by the office in the morning before I go to class.”

  More importantly, I needed to restrict my time alone in the house with Daniel. It was hard enough to resist his charms in the great outdoors. In an intimate setting like this one, I’d be fighting an uphill battle.

  He grinned at me, oblivious to my inner conflict. “This will be fun, spending quality time together.”

  My gut twisted as I forced a smile. “Can’t wait.”

  “Nobody ever said angels were blessed with intelligence,” Gareth said with a shrug.

  Althea greeted me in the morning with my usual latte. I found it amazing that in such a short time I managed to even have a usual latte. As I took the cup from her hand, one of the snakes shot out from beneath her headscarf and hissed at me.

  I jumped back, nearly spilling my drink.

  “Down, girl,” Althea said sharply. “You know better than that.” The snake recoiled and Althea gave me an apologetic smile. “Sorry, she wants to lick the foam.”

  Ugh. “Any appointments today?" I asked.

  The Gorgon pretended to consult the papers on her desk, but I knew that was merely a formality. Work was slow thanks to a low crime rate and that was okay by me. Between classes and the new accusation against Daniel, I had enough on my plate.

  "You have a client appointment in half an hour," she said. "A berserker named Linsey."

  “What's the charge?"

  "Vandalism. She already pled guilty."

  "So what do I need to do if she pled guilty?" I hadn’t made it to court in Spellbound yet, since my last client confessed to his crimes before the trial.

  Althea looked thoughtful. “Why don't you ask Gareth what he would've done?"

  I’d told Althea about Gareth’s ghost. They’d worked together for many years and it seemed right that she should know. It was nice to complain to someone who knew him.

  "That's a good idea,” I said. “In the meantime, do you have any clue? If she’ll be here in half an hour, I don't have time to run home." As far as we knew, Gareth was tethered to the house.

  "From what I know, I think you should focus on reducing the sentence and minimizing any collateral consequences,” Althea said.

  "Collateral consequences?" I had no clue what that meant.

  "Well, for example, Linsey is only eighteen. She's very young. Even though vandalism is a misdemeanor, it can impact her driver's license. Her current license can be suspended because she's under twenty-five. She could also lose her right to use magic."

  Did berserkers use magic? The only berserker I'd met so far was Henrik, the barista in Brew-Ha-Ha. I hadn't bothered to research this particular brand of supernatural.

  “What can you tell me about berserkers?” I asked.

  “Historically, they were Norse warriors," Althea said. "They were known for being crazy and vicious on the battlefield."

  Yikes. Good to know. "Does Linsey have any priors?"

  Althea scanned the contents of a folder. "Yes, she was arrested for wearing animal skins to school just before graduation. She nearly wasn't allowed to graduate."

  Wearing animal skins was against the law? “The charges were dropped?"

  Althea nodded. "Just a slap on the wrist. If I remember correctly, they thought the stress of transitioning to the adult world was getting to her."

  “Like you said, she's only eighteen,” I said. "I would imagine eighteen is much younger here than in the human world. Are berserkers immortal?"

  "No, but they have an extended lifespan."

  “Could I please see the file?" If Linsey was going to be here in less than half an hour, I needed to study the details of her case and quickly.

  Althea handed me the folder and I took it into my office. I sat down behind the desk and read the simple two-page document detailing her arrest. She had apparently vandalized the side of a jalopy with crude images. I looked to see whether there were any photographs in evidence. There was nothing in the folder. Maybe that wasn't standard procedure here.

  I sipped my coffee and continued to read. The jalopy belonged to a twenty-year-old pixie by the name of Fern. I hadn't met her yet either. Fern work part-time at Trinkets, the gift shop. A knock at the door alerted me to Linsey’s arrival.

  She came alone. I expected her to arrive with parents. Where was her show of support?

  "Hi, you must be Linsey," I said. She looked every bit the disgruntled teenager. Fire engine red hair that only a bottle or magic could provide--deep purple lipstick, and dark, heavy eyeliner. She wore a small gold hoop through her nostrils. Her fingers were covered in rings of varying metals. Naturally, she wore black from head to toe, including a pair of combat boots.

  "You look young," she said, her upper lip curling slightly. "Are you the assistant or something?"

  "Afraid not," I said. "I'm Emma Hart, your public defender. It's nice to meet you." I gestured for her to sit down. "I've just been looking through your file."

  “Find anything good?" She was trying to give off an attitude, but I wasn't buying it. To be honest, she radiated pain and suffering. I wondered how much of it was fueled by angst and how much was fueled by actual trauma. If I asked the right questions, maybe I would find out.

  "It says here you pled guilty to vandalism charges," I said. "Is that true?"

  "Yep. Every word of it." She folded her arms, appearing to have no more to say on the subject.

  "Do you know what the standard sentencing is for a vandalism charge?" I asked. I wondered whether anyone had briefed her before she pled guilty.

  "I don't know. A year?"

  "That doesn't bother you? A year of your life?" I wasn't even sure if it was as little as a year, but I was still bothered by the fact that a year seemed to mean nothing to her. She wasn't a vampire. She wasn't immortal.

  “I’m not exactly setting the world on fire," she said. "Maybe a year in the big house will be good for me."

  I smelled Minotaur shit.

  “Linsey, why don't you tell me exactly what happened in your own words?"

  She raised a colorful eyebrow. “Why waste my breath? It's all right there in your file, isn't it?"

  "I'm sure it is, but I’d like to hear the story from your own mouth." I clasped my hands together and put on a patient face.

  Linsey shifted uneasily in her chair. "There's this pixie, Fern. Cute as a button. Everyone loves her." She rolled her eyes in disgust. "I couldn't take it anymore. I stole a can of fairy paint out of my neighbor’s garage and went over to her house in the night. I painted the side of her jalopy with amusing pictures."

  "It says here in the file that you’re a talented artist. Maybe you could funnel your artistic talents into something more productive."

  "I don't think the artwork I drew on the side of Fern’s jalopy is something the public wants to see." I saw the hint of a smile on her purple lips.

  "Obscene, was it?"

  "Very." She paused. “More anatomically correct than artistic.”

  "And all this because Fern is cute as a button?" I leaned back in my chair. "Sorry, I'm not buying it. What are you not telling me?" There was nothing in the file about motive. Not that they needed a motive for a charge like this. Still though, I wanted to know. To understand Linsey’s actions.

  "Why do you care?" She shifted to the side and placed her boots on the seat of the chair next to her. I said nothing. I figured she was just trying to get a rise out of me.

  "She was a couple years ahead of me in school. A cheerleader. Always in student government. How is it possible to be someone that everyone likes?"

  I shrugged. "I don't know, Linsey, but the reality is, there are people like that in the world.” Just like there were witches with a natural talent for flying o
n broomsticks. Not remotely fair, but c’est la vie. “They just radiate goodness and people respond to that. I think it's nice. Why does it bother you so much?”

  Linsey glared at me. "No one is that nice."

  "You think everyone harbors a dark side?"

  "She fooled everyone except me with her cheerful smile and friendly attitude.” She pressed her fingers into her cheeks, creating dimples.

  "Who did she fool in particular?" Linsey was holding back. I could tell. "You clearly think she's fooled someone. Maybe someone you like or respect?” A light bulb went off in my head. Of course. This was about a guy. It was always about a guy.

  Linsey’s gaze shifted to the floor. "Doesn't matter," she mumbled.

  "Of course it matters," I said. "Was there an incident? Is this a guy you like who likes her? It would be helpful to know."

  "How could that possibly be helpful? Then he would know why I did it. That he was the reason." Her skin paled. "I don't want him to know. It's embarrassing."

  "The vandalism is embarrassing?"

  She exhaled loudly. "Not just the vandalism. The other stuff."

  I skimmed the papers again. "What other stuff?"

  She stared at me. "It doesn't say anything else?"

  "Not in here. You need to tell me, though. If there's a chance it might come up in the courtroom, I need to know now."

  Linsey nodded and moved her feet back to the floor. "I may have been a little out of my mind."

  "Out of your mind? What does that mean? You were drunk?"

  "I may have been sniffing a magic powder that night. And I may have turned up in her driveway wearing a wolf pelt."

  "I guess the werewolves in town weren't too fond of that," I said.

  "Especially because that was all I was wearing."

  Oh.

  "So when you sniffed this magical powder, did you know you intended to vandalize Fern’s jalopy?"

  "No. I was just upset. I had been downtown earlier and saw Fern on a date with him. It drove me nuts."

  "So who’s the guy?"

  "His name is Tristan. He's a druid."

  Another druid. “Is he related to Boyd, the healer?"

  "His son," Linsey said. "He graduated with Fern. I'd always had a mad crush on him. I swore to myself that when I graduated school, I would get up the nerve to ask him out. I finally managed to convince myself it was a good idea, but when I tracked him down, he was out with her."