To Catch a Witch

by Heather Blake

  He fluffed his hair. “Am I not looking my usual handsome self?”

  “You look feverish.”

  “Are you calling me hot?”

  I followed him back to his office. “Vince.”

  “Darcy.”

  “Let me feel your forehead.”

  “Don’t make me ask you to leave. I might have a little cold. I’m fine.”

  I narrowed my eyes.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Fine.”

  We went into his office, a small room crammed full with a desk, filing cabinet, a couple of chairs, and drabness. He went behind the desk, and I pulled a folding chair up to the edge of it.

  “Good. Now that we’ve settled that, I can show you the video.” He booted up a laptop. “I already sent copies to Nick this morning for him to look over, but from what I’ve seen, Ben’s alibi checks out.” He pointed at the screen. “Here he is stomping back toward the tent. Note the time stamp.”

  I set my elbows on the desktop and leaned in to study the laptop screen. Through the blowing snow, I could pick out Ben and Quinn walking into the frame from the direction of the trailhead. They split after a few steps. Ben went straight to the tent and Quinn went toward Spellbound. So far it was just like Quinn had told me.

  And Vince was right—Ben was stomping. Anger emanated from him, even from this viewpoint. The time had been 7:48. Twelve minutes before the race began.

  Something else caught my eye. Or, rather, someone. Joe. He was milling about, doing stretching exercises. Jumping. Lunging. High knee lifts. Low squats.

  He didn’t appear to be a man about to commit murder, but I knew looks could be deceiving.

  I scanned the crowd. I didn’t see Duncan, but I did spot Lucinda warming up near Madison and Aine, who stood at the curb in front of the Witch’s Brew. Lucinda was making Aine laugh with over-exaggerated jumping jacks. Quinn stopped to talk with them for a second before continuing on to the bookshop.

  I was happy to see neither had made faces at her behind her back.

  “Ben’s inside the tent for almost five minutes,” Vince said, glancing at a notepad.

  He’d taken notes. I bit back a smile and the urge to tease him.

  “Then,” he continued, “Ben comes out and starts bouncing around like a deranged acrobat.”

  “You mean, warming up?”

  “You can call it what you want, I’ll call it what I want.”

  “How about Quinn? Do you have footage of her coming and going from Spellbound?”

  He tapped a few keys. “Here. She’s going into Spellbound.”

  We waited while the video played on.

  A few minutes later, Quinn came out of the alleyway between Spellbound and Lotions and Potions, and walked toward the event tent.

  So that was that.

  “Can you go back to the starting line? Did Ben warm up and then go straight to the starting line?”

  “It looks like he does,” Vince said, using a fingertip to trace Ben’s movements. “Yep. There he is.”

  So Ben couldn’t have killed Abby.

  Quinn couldn’t have killed Abby.

  “What about Joe?” I asked.

  Vince found the footage of Joe warming up. We kept an eye on him. He finished his warm-ups and went to use the portable toilet. When he saw the line, he walked off. Out of camera range.

  We kept watching for him to come back, but he never did.

  “Intriguing,” Vince said. “Where’d Joe go?”

  “According to him, to go to the bathroom in the bushes since the portable toilets were not usable.”

  He grinned. “They weren’t usable? I wonder what happened to them?”

  I let out a heavy sigh. “I don’t suppose you have a camera near the trailhead that would have caught him going into the woods?”

  “No. Sadly, I’ve been trying to cut back on my spying.”

  “Glad to hear it. One last thing,” I said. “Footage of the Witch’s Brew about five minutes before the race starts?”

  He pecked away with his good hand to zoom in on that area of the video. Madison and Aine were there, at the curb. Madison was glancing around as though looking for someone. Joe, most likely, since he hadn’t come back from his bathroom break. Unbeknownst to her, Duncan Cole had slid in behind her, coming in from the direction of the trailhead.

  “See that guy?” I said, pointing to Duncan.

  “Yeah?”

  “Can you follow his movements backward?”

  “Who is he?”

  “Duncan Cole.”

  “It is?” He squinted. “I didn’t recognize him.”

  “I hadn’t either. That beard changes his whole face.”

  “Kind of makes you wonder if he grew it that way on purpose, doesn’t it?”

  It did.

  We tracked Duncan as far as we could, but ran into the same problem as we had with Joe: Duncan went out of range of the cameras.

  I leaned back in my chair. “I know you gave a copy of this to Nick, but could I have one too?”

  He opened a drawer and pulled out a disk. He slid it across the desk.

  “You knew I’d ask.”

  “You’re always asking for stuff.” He wiped a sheen of sweat off his forehead. “You’re kind of a pain in the butt.”

  I smiled. “Thanks for your help with this.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Did you see anything that helps the case?”

  “I can rule out Ben and Quinn. That helps.”

  He nodded and looked at his watch. “I’m going to have to cut this short. I’m meeting Noelle to look at a house.”

  “Is that what you two were doing at the playhouse last night, too? Looking at houses?”

  “Har har.” He rolled his eyes but I noticed he wouldn’t look at me. “What can I say? I’m hoping to get a better deal on a place.”

  “Is that so?”

  He glanced my way. His whole face had flushed—chasing away all the paleness. “It’s so.”

  “You like her!”

  He shrugged with a mischievous grin. “It was only one date.”

  I said, “Noelle’s not too … enthusiastic for you?”

  “I like her energy. It’s…” He searched for a word.

  “Energizing?” I suggested.

  “Yeah, that works. She’s nice. I’m not looking to get married or anything, so don’t go planning our wedding too.” He stood up and came around his desk.

  Ah, so he knew I’d agreed to help Glinda. “Speaking of…”

  “Of what?”

  I stayed put in my seat. “Planning weddings.”

  “Do not ask me to be ring bearer,” he said. “I’m much too old.”

  “Noted. Glinda’s adamant that Dorothy does not find out about the wedding until it’s happening.”

  “A smart move on her part.”

  “And you won’t tell Dorothy? She’s suspicious. She might ask.”

  “I try not to tell anyone anything.”

  “Oh, I know.” I stood up. “But would you help Dorothy with a hex if she asked?”

  He did a double take as he walked toward the door. “Why would you ask that? Seems kind of out of the blue to me.”

  “Let’s just say that it’s suspected there’s a hex around Dorothy’s house, one that hurts trespassers.”

  The corner of his mouth lifted. “How would one know that unless one trespassed?”

  “Lucky guess?” I said.

  “What if there was? What if Dorothy is afraid someone wanted to spy on her and asked for a little help? Given this conversation, I’d say her fears were warranted.”

  “Is there a way around the hex?”

  “There might be.”

  “Would you tell me?”

  “Doubtful.”

  But, he’d already had by telling me there might be.

  I tucked the disk into my tote bag and passed by him. I stopped in the hallway outside his office and faced him. “There’s going to come a time when you’ll have to choose a
side, Vince. Good or evil. You need to think long and hard which side you’re going to pick.”

  “You’re right. That time is coming. But what makes you think I haven’t already chosen?”

  I eyed him. “Have you?”

  “You’re just going to have to wait and see, aren’t you?” He strode to the back door and pulled it open. “I’ll see you at the wedding.”

  As I left the shop, I found I was more confused about him than ever.

  * * *

  I stopped by the Black Thorn, which was a few shops away from Lotions and Potions, and worked with Lydia on picking out appropriate flowers for the memorial service.

  Once that was settled, I texted Quinn to let her know everything on my end was set for the night. She texted back a simple thank you and added that she’d see me later.

  On a whim, I decided to try talking with Ben one more time. If I let him know that video surveillance gave him an alibi, maybe he’d be willing to open up about Abby. And why they had been so secretive about the elopement and about her selling her house, too.

  The temperature had dropped during the day, and I was already missing the warmth. It was a quick five-minute walk to Ben’s place, but I made it in three because walking alone was giving me the heebie-jeebies. I took the stairs up to his apartment door two at a time, and then quickly knocked on his door before I had the chance to change my mind.

  Not even a second later, he yanked open the door and sighed. “Not now.”

  I fought the urge to bust my way inside. It was only the ravaged look on Ben’s face that stopped me. Dark circles rimmed bloodshot eyes. He appeared to have aged a decade overnight.

  Behind him, blankets were tossed on the couch as though he’d slept there and not his bed. The scent of burned toast filled the air.

  He saw me looking inside and closed the door a bit, using his body to fill the gap.

  But not before I saw something very interesting on the floor next to the door.

  Green shoes with orange horizontal lacings.

  I recognized them right away.

  “Look,” I said, my heart beating a little bit faster. “I just wanted to tell you video surveillance shows you couldn’t have been the one to kill Abby.”

  He rubbed his eyes. “Thanks, but I already knew I didn’t kill her.”

  With that, he closed the door in my face.

  I was starting to take the rejection personally.

  I pulled my phone from my tote and was dialing Nick before I was even halfway down the steps.

  I needed to tell him about those shoes.

  Because they meant Duncan Cole was at Ben’s apartment.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “So Duncan was gone by the time the police arrived?” Harper asked.

  I’d waited across the street on the village green for the police to show up at Ben’s apartment. But by the time they arrived, Duncan was gone. He must have slipped down the back alley, because I hadn’t seen him go by.

  Ben claimed he’d never been there at all, but the shoes I’d seen on the floor near the door were missing.

  Nick had hauled Ben in for questioning once again, and I went home. Last I’d heard, Ben had asked for his lawyer, stonewalling Nick’s questions.

  “Ben must have noticed me looking at the shoes. It’s the only giveaway I can think of that would have tipped him off.”

  “You need to learn to be cagier, Darcy,” she said, smiling behind the rim of a teacup I’d just handed her.

  I’d only been home a few minutes. Just long enough to let Higgins out and make some tea. Missy wasn’t around, so I checked her GPS to make sure she wasn’t roaming loose in the village and saw she was back at Ve’s.

  Harper had showered, done her hair, plucked her eyebrows, and looked much better than she had in months. If she’d been battling morning sickness along with her other illness without knowing what it was, there was no evidence of it now, and I had the feeling she could thank Dr. Dreadful for that as well.

  She sat in the middle of the bed, propped up on what seemed like half a dozen pillows. One of which had Annie lounging on top of it. The cat’s eyes were closed, but her tail swished every now and again, so I knew she was awake. Archie had yet to return, and I was starting to wonder what he and my mother had been up to all day.

  “I’ll work on that.” I told her about the rest of my day, finishing with my visit with Vince. “Did you have a chance to look at your surveillance footage?”

  “I did. I sent a copy to your email. It’s the same as Vince’s. Quinn came in, used the restroom, and left again out the back door. Do you believe Joe’s story?”

  “Not really. I mean, it does have a ring of truth to it, because many people ended up using the woods as a bathroom that morning, but it just seems too coincidental.”

  “Nick should make him take a lie detector test.”

  “I’ll tell him you said so. It would be nice if we could hook Duncan up too.”

  “He is a wildcard. What was he doing with Ben? Seems like they should be enemies, doesn’t it?”

  It did. “Ben denies Duncan was there. I know they were friends before the doping incident, but I can’t imagine they still would be.”

  “Well, Duncan might not remember he was mad, because of the memory cleanse.”

  “Good point. I just feel like there are too many secrets with this case. And that usually means someone is hiding something big. I just haven’t figured out what that is quite yet.”

  “You will,” Harper said. “I have complete confidence in you.”

  “Thanks.” I glanced at her hand. “Any reason why you have a death grip on your phone?”

  She hadn’t let it go, even to hold the teacup. She blinked at it as though not realizing she had hold of it. “Marcus called.”

  “Did he? What did he want?” My insides were doing a happy dance while I tried to keep my face serene.

  “I don’t know. I didn’t answer.”

  My happy dance turned into a funeral march.

  She went on. “He left a message saying he needed to talk to me and asked me to call him back. I haven’t yet.”

  “Are you going to?”

  “I want to, but…”

  “What?”

  Her face flushed, her jaw jutted, and her body tensed. “I’m just so … angry.”

  Tea sloshed as her hand shook, and I took the cup and set it on a side table. “It’s understandable to be angry with him, but if you—”

  “I’m not angry with him, Darcy. I understand why he did what he did. I know he was in a lousy position, having to choose. I forgave him a long time ago.”

  “Then who are you angry at? His mom? Dad?”

  “Not that they aren’t deserving, but no.” She shook her head. “I’m angry at myself.”

  “I—” She’d shocked me. “I don’t understand.”

  Her lower lip trembled. “All my life I thought I was not that girl. The one who falls apart when a boy dumps her. I don’t need a man to be happy. I’m strong. Independent. Self-sufficient.” She gulped in air. “And yet, what did I do the minute Marcus left? I fell apart. Not just apart. I was in tatters. It turned out I am that girl!”

  “Oh, Harper.” I wrapped my arms around her. I grabbed a tissue from the nightstand and let her cry it out. It had been a long time coming. As I rocked her, I had to wipe my eyes several times because I couldn’t listen to her cry without crying myself. My emotions were tied to hers and always had been since the moment I held her in my arms shortly after she was born.

  Annie took one look at us and ran out of the room.

  “The more I struggled with him leaving, the madder at myself I became,” she said, her words drawn out between sniffles. “I didn’t know who I was anymore. Which made me struggle even more. Which made me even madder. Before I knew it, I was so lost. I feel so dumb.”

  “Listen,” I said as Harper finally quieted, her sniffles turning into hiccups. “Listen to me. Dumb is not a word that has ever bee
n associated with you and never will be.”

  She swiped her eyes with the tissue but wouldn’t look at my way. Her chest heaved as she tried to control her breathing.

  “We are all that girl, Harper. And none of us realize it until we lose someone who holds a piece of our heart.” I held her tighter. “You’ve never been in love before Marcus, so you didn’t know about the pain. You need to forgive yourself, because you cannot be mad for something you didn’t know.”

  Her lip quivered. “I should have known.”

  “How? You have to experience it. Live through it. Regroup and rebuild. It’s some of the worst pain you will ever feel. It’s not called heartbreak for nothing. But being brokenhearted doesn’t mean you’re not strong and independent and all those other things. And it doesn’t mean you’re dumb. It means you had the courage to let another person into your heart, and you lived through letting them go.”

  She gave me side glance. “Barely.”

  “But you did. And you’re going to be stronger than ever, with or without Marcus by your side.”

  We sat in silence for a few minutes. Me rocking her, her sniffling and shuddering.

  Finally, she said, “I need to tell him about the baby.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “I don’t want him to leave, Darcy.”

  “I know. But you need to tell him that. And you need to brace yourself that he might still go.”

  She gave a mirthless laugh. “If I can live through these past few months…”

  “You can get through anything. But heaven help me if you join another club.”

  “Hey. I like the clubs.”

  “Call Marcus back,” I said. “Talk to him.”

  She stared at the phone. “I’m scared.”

  My eyes welled. I kissed her forehead and stood up. “Being in love is terrifying.”

  “A massive understatement.” She took a deep breath. “Okay. I can do this. I can do this. Can I do this?”

  “You can do it.”

  She nodded, then dialed.

  I backed out of the room, and resisting the urge to eavesdrop, went downstairs. I let Higgins inside and was standing at the door watching snow flurries when two birds came swooping downward out of seemingly nowhere, one bright red and the other a soft gray.

  I quickly opened the door and both flew inside.