To Catch a Witch

by Heather Blake

  “Has Derrie been by this morning?”

  Derrie—Ve’s nickname for my mother. “Not today. She summoned Archie before dawn, and I haven’t heard from either since.”

  “I wonder if they’re meeting about the Harper situation.”

  The Harper situation. It hurt just thinking about it. I wished there was some way Harper could know what she was facing.

  But there wasn’t.

  Ve shook her fists. “That Dorothy … I loathe that woman.”

  “You’re not alone in feeling that way.” I put an arm around her. “But she seriously miscalculated the lengths mothers will go to in order to protect their children.”

  “Probably because she doesn’t have a loving bone in her body. I feel sorry for Glinda. And Vince should be grateful he escaped Dorothy’s narcissism.”

  I wasn’t sure he’d agree about that, though Ve was probably right. Vince was searching for love. True love. Unconditional love. The kind of feeling most mothers had for their children.

  The kind of love my mother had for Harper and me.

  The kind of love Harper already had for her child.

  Dorothy only loved herself.

  And I hoped beyond hope that would lead to her downfall.

  * * *

  “Did Harper call Marcus to thank him for the gift?” Starla asked as we jogged across the village green toward the Enchanted Trail.

  I’d been updating her on the whole Harper-Marcus saga. “Not that I know of. If anything, she’d probably text him. And I’m not sure she’d tell me she did.”

  We were squeezed together tightly on a wet path, boxed in by melting snowbanks, and needed to drop into single file whenever we passed by someone.

  “Hmm,” she said.

  The pom-pom on my hat bounced against my head in rhythm to my steps. “Hmm, what?”

  A thermal headband kept her ears warm while her braided ponytail slashed the air. “While I was in the Witch’s Brew this morning, I was standing a couple people behind Noelle Quinlan. She was phone, and even though she was trying to keep her voice down, it was easy enough to eavesdrop on her side of the conversation.”

  “I’m not sure Noelle knows how to whisper.”

  “Exactly. Anyway, she was saying something about how it was too late to get out of the contract and that there was nothing they could do, but that she could try to find him a new place in the village. I’m pretty sure she was talking to Marcus.”

  I nearly tripped over my feet. I caught my balance and said, “What makes you think it was him?”

  She laughed and said, “Because she called him Marcus.”

  Did I know another man named Marcus in this village? I couldn’t think of a single one. “When was this?”

  “Maybe an hour ago?”

  “And it took you this long to tell me?”

  She shrugged. “Good things come to those who wait?”

  I gave her a little shove.

  “Hey! Assault!” she said, smiling wide.

  I smiled too. “It has to mean Marcus changed his mind about moving, right? I’m not just jumping to conclusions because I’m hopeful, am I?”

  “If you’re jumping, then I am too. With both feet. Are you going to say anything to Harper?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t want to get her hopes up until I know something for certain.” I was trying to figure out when I could squeeze in a visit to see Marcus today. After this run, I needed to stop to see Pepe and Mrs. P. Then I had to stop at home and change before my meeting with Stef at the Stove. I also needed to see Vince about those surveillance tapes, too, before meeting with the Lydia at the Black Thorn. Then this afternoon, I had plans to question Joe and Madison Bryant before Abby’s memorial.

  “You have more restraint than I do,” Starla said. “I want to rent a plane to fly a banner.”

  “I just don’t want to get Harper’s hopes up if we’re wrong. She’s been through so much.”

  As we passed the playhouse, I couldn’t help throwing a glance toward the adjoining parking lot. I didn’t know which car belonged to Duncan Cole, but I did notice there was a village police car parked nearby.

  “Then I suppose I’ll put a hold on the plane. For now.”

  Taking a side path behind the playhouse, we emerged onto the Enchanted Trail. The path widened, allowing us some elbow room. We turned right, and soon were behind the Sorcerer’s Stove, the site where Abby and Ben had reportedly argued Friday night. It was possible someone who worked at the restaurant had heard them—I’d ask around when I saw Stef later.

  Starla and I fell into a rhythm as we jogged, splashing our way down the path. I was feeling guilty for not sharing the information about the Eldership, but I hadn’t thought to ask my mother yesterday if I could spread the word to those we trusted. Like Starla and Evan. The more people on our side to protect Harper and the baby in the next few months, the better.

  Then, of course, there was Glinda. I was meeting her tomorrow at the Gingerbread Shack, but I was thinking of canceling. I still questioned her role in her mother’s plans and wasn’t sure I could hide my emotions from her so easily. Did she really need my help with her wedding? Or was she using me—and our friendship—to get information for Dorothy?

  Starla and I chatted as we ran, discussing Abby’s death and throwing around theories. Nothing made much sense where that case was concerned, so we always ended up right back where we started.

  After three miles, we neared the turnoff that lead to her house, where we parted ways most mornings.

  “Let me know if you learn anything about Marcus. Or Abby.”

  “I will,” I promised.

  She shifted foot to foot, hesitating to run off.

  “What?” I asked.

  “How about I take the long way home? Past the Bewitching Boutique?”

  The news of the noose had freaked her out.

  “Don’t be silly. It’s way out of your way.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  “Starla, go home. I have a protection charm in my pocket. I’ll only be on this trail a minute more, and look, there are a lot of people out today. I’ll be just fine.”

  She turned and looked for herself at all the people on the path. Drawing in a deep breath, she said, “Okay, but run really fast. Don’t take any chances.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  With another deep breath, she loped into a jog. She threw her arm up in a wave as she veered off, out of sight. I continued on the trail toward the main square and the Bewitching Boutique.

  As I neared the turnoff, I looked ahead and saw Madison Bryant crouched next to a jogging stroller, pointing at something in the woods. I slowed as neared and saw what they were looking at: a male cardinal, his feathers bright red against the snowy backdrop.

  “Look, Aine, birdie,” I heard Madison say before she looked up when she heard my footsteps. She was decked out in fancy running clothes.

  I hesitated for only a moment before I approached. It was my job to question her, and where better than out here in the open? With lots of witnesses.

  “Beautiful morning for a run,” I said.

  She side-eyed my hat before saying, “It is. We just stopped for a moment to bird-watch.”

  Aine looked cozy in the stroller. A well-loved red fleece blankets decorated with white hearts was tucked tight around her body and her casts, but her arms were free and her mittened hands were waving all around. Her face was pink from the wind and chill in the air, and her eyes bright beneath the hood of her coat. She smiled at me when she saw me peeking in and my heart melted.

  “She looks like she’s enjoying herself.”

  “These morning jogs are her favorite part of the day. She loves the wind in her face. When she’s finally able to walk, I have the feeling I’m going to be chasing her all over the village.”

  “How long until she gets her casts off?”

  “Hopefully by summertime.”

 
; “She’ll be running alongside you before you know it.”

  A shadow crossed her eyes, and she was suddenly busy with a loose thread on her sleeve. “Actually, the doctors have warned us that she might not be able to run at our kind of level. High-impact sports aren’t usually recommended for someone whose dysplasia was so severe.”

  This was, I realized, the longest Madison had ever talked with me, and I wondered why she was being so chatty. “Does Lucinda know that? I only ask because when I was talking to her yesterday she mentioned being eager to get Aine started training in a few years.”

  Madison rolled her eyes. “She knows. She’s simply refusing to accept it. Joe, too. They think the Vincicrafter in Aine will overcome, but Aine is already showing signs that Terracrafting is her dominant Craft. She happiest outside, and she’s enamored with trees and flowers and nature. It calms her when nothing else will.”

  It sounded to me like that might be case. No one would know for certain, however, until Aine was a good bit older. “In the end, all that really matters is that she’s happy and healthy, right?”

  The baby gurgled and smiled a drooly grin that reminded me of Higgins.

  Madison nodded and picked at the loose thread again. “I’m glad I bumped into you out here. I was going to call later…”

  “About?”

  “The meeting this afternoon. I need to cancel it. With Abby’s memorial today and everything, it’s just not a good time. Maybe later this week? Thursday? Friday?”

  Ah. This was why she was being so chatty. Easing me into the news that she was canceling our appointment. I should have been more shocked, but I wasn’t. Not after Joe’s and Ben’s reactions toward me yesterday. Too bad for Madison that I wasn’t in the mood to play her games. “That’s not going to work. Time is crucial right now, and I know Joe is leaving town on Wednesday.”

  She had the grace to blush. “Even still, this afternoon isn’t going to work. I’ll call you.” She swiveled the stroller and kicked into a jog.

  More likely, she wouldn’t call at all.

  What was with these people? They all knew they’d have to face the Elder if they continued to evade my questions.

  I couldn’t let her get away without answering at least some of my questions, so I followed her. “How about now?”

  Aine babbled as the stroller glided along the path. Madison didn’t miss a step as she said, “Now what?”

  I appealed to her competitive nature by saying, “We run one mile together. You answer as many questions as I can throw out. My pace,” I clarified. Because she could easily sprint off, leaving me in the dust before I could even get one question out.

  “Okay,” she said. “One mile. Shoot.”

  “Where were you when Abby was killed?”

  She slowed to a stop. “You’re kidding. You think I hurt Abby? Why would I do that? I loved Abby. She was like family.”

  Like family. But she hadn’t been. And besides, I knew firsthand from my investigations that family status didn’t exclude murder.

  “I’m actually trying to rule you out. But if I was looking for a motive, I’d say something along the lines of Abby discovering that you and Joe have been stealing from the company. She told Ben she noticed something was off with the race accounting. Maybe he said something about it to Joe, since the race was your pet project. The next day, Abby was dead. From what I’ve heard, Abby played by the rules. She would have turned you and Joe in. Did you or Joe kill her to keep her quiet?”

  “You’re out of your mind. No, we didn’t kill her.” Color rose up her neck and she started running again. “You make it sound like the bookkeeping thing was a big deal. It wasn’t. It was just a few dollars here and there. Certainly nothing to kill someone over.”

  “I’m pretty sure embezzling is a big deal.”

  “It’s not embezzlement when you own the company. It’s our money.”

  I hadn’t thought about that. It was true.

  “We use it to pay January property taxes on our house,” she said. “Money’s tight around that time of year.”

  Obviously, this had been going on for a while. Except for this year … because they hadn’t needed the extra money since the Mad Dash’s proceeds were going to the family. It was probably why I had been allowed to help with the race as well. No one ever expected Abby would look at last year’s accounting. Or share those books with me.

  “Why not just give yourself a raise?” I asked. “Or draw cash as the owner?”

  She shrugged.

  “You’re using it to pay property taxes, but do you pay taxes on the money itself?” I asked, suddenly realizing why they’d hide the extra income. So they wouldn’t have to report it.

  She shrugged. “Joe handles the taxes.”

  Joe, who was avoiding me. “If you’re not paying taxes on the money, Madison, that’s tax fraud. And it’s a felony.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “I’m sure it’s not. It’s not worth the trouble of you looking into it.”

  I didn’t want to argue, so I pressed on. “You never did say where you were the morning Abby died.”

  “I was in the Witch’s Brew with Aine most of the morning, then we went over to the event tent, then to the starting line.”

  “Did you see Abby that morning?”

  “No. The last time I saw Abby was the night before at the Stove.”

  Which reminded me of another question. “Do you know what Abby and Ben fought about behind the restaurant Friday night?”

  “They fought?”

  I took that as a no. “So I’ve heard. Where was Joe when Abby went missing?” I wanted to see if she’d verify his bathroom alibi.

  “He didn’t kill her. He loved her.”

  It seemed everybody loved her. Which didn’t quite explain why she was very dead.

  “That’s not what I asked.” We were coming up on the half-mile mark. “Where was Joe?”

  “He was out and about. Doing his warm-up. Meeting with people. Catching up.”

  “Do you know if he saw Abby?”

  “You shouldn’t be wasting your time on us. We didn’t kill Abby. This is ridiculous.”

  “Joe wasn’t at the starting line. Where was he when the race went off?”

  “Using the woods as a bathroom, since the portable bathrooms were locked. It took longer than he thought, and he couldn’t make it back on time. He caught up with the pack not long after they passed by him. He disqualified himself from the race, so that’s not a big deal either.”

  “Can anyone verify where he was?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m sure someone can. There were a lot of people around that morning.”

  My chest was starting to hurt from exertion—and I was running out of mileage. “Do you know why Duncan Cole was in the village on the morning of the race?”

  “Duncan was in the village?”

  I was getting nowhere fast. “He was. Is. His car is parked in the playhouse lot. No one knows where he is, though.”

  “Do you think he was involved with what happened to Abby?” she asked, her eyes brightening.

  As though she was hoping. “Do you?”

  “He and Abby did have a bad breakup.”

  “I heard they broke up because someone at Balefire set him up with a fake positive on his doping test.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Doesn’t matter. All that matters is I do know.”

  “Duncan was an issue,” she finally said. “He’d been impossible since Abby told him about the Craft. Making snide remarks, being reckless around mortals. He had to go.”

  “With a nice, tidy memory cleanse on his way out so he couldn’t remember that you guys have magic on your side.”

  “Exactly.”

  “You could have ruined his career.”

  “What career?” she asked. “He’s a mortal. He’s good, but not great.”

  “Great like Joe and Ben and Lucinda.”

  “It sounds harsh, but it’s just reality.�
��

  I didn’t like it. Not one bit. And suddenly felt extra sorry for Quinn.

  “How was Ben and Abby’s relationship?”

  “Good,” she said. “Solid. I played matchmaker between them, so I should know. They were much better suited.”

  “Because they’re both Crafters.”

  “Right,” she said, missing my sarcasm. “Now you understand.”

  I understood that I wished I’d never known this side of the Bryants. It was disconcerting to know Aine was going to grow up around this kind of insular thinking. Absently, I wondered if my mother could step in somehow, someway.

  I gave up all pretenses and said, “Had either Ben or Abby mentioned that they were eloping this week?”

  She laughed. “No! You’re kidding, right?”

  “I’m not kidding. They had plans to elope tomorrow. Abby had a dress made at the Bewitching Boutique and had ordered a cake from the Gingerbread Shack.”

  She slowed to a stop again. “You’re sure?”

  “Positive.”

  She looked like she had the wind knocked out of her. “I … I don’t know what to say. Are you really sure?”

  “I saw the dress myself. Quinn has it now.”

  “Quinn knew about the elopement?”

  “It was probably too hard a secret to keep from her, seeing as how they she and Abby were best friends and lived together.”

  “I just can’t believe Ben would do that. Not tell anyone, I mean.” She looked off in the distance, then bent down to adjust with Aine’s blanket.

  My lungs were on fire, and I tried to catch a full breath. “What do you know about the break-in at Abby’s house yesterday? I saw you in the crowd outside afterward.”

  “I don’t know anything about it.” She picked fluff off the pilled blanket, let it float away. “I need to go.”

  “Wait, one more question.”

  “What?” she said impatiently.

  “Where was Joe last night?”

  Her brow furrowed. “Last night? What happened last night?”

  Aine waved and cooed at a woman passing by. Her sweet innocence both filled my heart—and hurt it. Because I knew it wouldn’t last forever. “Someone left a noose at my house with my name on it.”

  Redness slowly infused Madison’s face, and she wouldn’t meet my eye as she said, “And you think Joe did it? That’s absolutely … preposterous! We’re done here. Bye, Darcy.”