To Catch a Witch

by Heather Blake

  Harper said, “You think Lucinda broke in to verify suspicions that it was Ben dating Quinn, not Abby?”

  I nodded. “Photos or something,” I said, thinking about the album Quinn had packed. Was it still there? Or had it been taken during the break-in and we hadn’t noticed?

  Ben swallowed hard. “There were pictures of Quinn and me on her nightstand.”

  I’d seen them. During the walk-through with the police officer. And if I’d seen them, so did the person who had broken in.

  Lucinda.

  Without a doubt, it had been my questions that had led us to this place and time. Guilt nearly swallowed me whole in one big gulp.

  “If it’s true that Lucinda killed Abby to stop her from marrying Ben,” Harper said, her voice tapering off. “What would she do if she realized it was actually Quinn who was supposed to marry him?”

  I almost choked on my fear. “We need to find Quinn.”

  Ben pulled out his phone. His hands shook as he dialed.

  “Who’re you calling?” Harper asked.

  “My mother.”

  It couldn’t hurt to try, but after several rings, he hung up. “She’s not answering.”

  “Do you know where she is this morning?”

  “She’s supposed to be at the store,” he said. “Doing inventory, but she wasn’t there when I checked there earlier for Quinn.”

  The store had been dark when I’d gone by on my way to the Gingerbread Shack as well.

  “This is crazy.” He looked at his watch. “It’s been more than an hour since Quinn and I were supposed to meet up. We need to do something.”

  I looked at his watch. His GPS watch. Quinn didn’t wear one, but his mother did. “Is there any way to track Lucinda’s current movements with her watch?”

  He shook his head. “No, it only uploads when you’ve finished a route. You have to tell it you’re done to upload. And only then when you manually connect it to your laptop, or if it’s near your cell phone, will it sync automatically. People don’t just disappear. How did you find Abby? Can we use that guy’s drone to search the village? Maybe we can at least find Quinn’s car.”

  “He’s in the hospital,” I said. “It could take hours before he’s released. But we could use the lost and found spell to find Quinn.” I should have thought of it sooner. “Harper? Will you help?”

  She held up her hands. “I’ll show you how, but I told you I’m done with the Craft.”

  Interesting, considering the amulet she was wearing. Apparently she was picking and choosing what kinds of Crafting she’d support. But now wasn’t the time to argue. “Fine,” I said. “We need Quinn’s hair. Her suitcases are at Ve’s. Harper, can you call over there and have Ve bring Quinn’s brush or comb or whatever over here?”

  “I’m on it.” She pulled out her cell. As she dialed, she added, “You’ll still need to know what Quinn’s wearing or a piece of jewelry or something.”

  “She has to have a coat on in this weather. I know what it looks like—I helped her into it last night.”

  Ben looked shell-shocked as Harper talked to Ve. I gathered supplies and put the kettle on. I was grateful I also had a bowl from the Trimmed Wick, and with Harper’s guidance, I mixed spices together. Before we knew it, Ve and Missy had arrived.

  The ruckus must have woken Archie from his stupor, because he was suddenly on his perch, rubbing his eyes with his wingtips, and saying, “What in Lucifer’s name is going on down here?”

  “No time to explain,” I said as Nick came dashing in the door.

  “What’s going on?” Nick asked, studying the items on the island.

  “We think Lucinda killed Abby, and now has Quinn,” Harper said.

  “Oh,” Archie grumped. “That took forever to explain. Ages. Decades, even.”

  “Shh,” I said to him.

  He folded his wings in a huff but shut his beak.

  “Now, pour the water slowly,” Harper said to me, pointing to the ceramic bowl and looking like she wanted to take the kettle out of my hand.

  The cloud plumed above the bowl and we all stared into its mist.

  “I see Quinn!” Ve said. “Oh. Oh my. Oh dear.”

  Quinn was alive, but she wasn’t alone. She and Lucinda were standing on the Aural Gorge bridge, and Quinn was clinging to one of the railings for dear life as Lucinda tried to push her over into the gorge.

  Nick whipped out his phone and ran for the door.

  How long until he could get there? It would take at least a couple of minutes to drive to the trail, even with his siren on. Another five minutes to get to the bridge on foot if he ran full-out.

  I didn’t know if Quinn had that kind of time.

  “Oh god, oh god,” Ben cried. He stood up to follow Nick, and it was Ve who snagged him.

  “Let him go,” she said. “He doesn’t need your emotions complicating the situation.”

  “I can’t just sit here!” he protested.

  “What can we do, Darcy?” Ve asked.

  I was at a loss, watching Quinn fight for her life. We needed someone there now. Someone who could buy Nick some time.

  I turned a pleading gaze to Archie.

  He saluted and said, “I’m on it.”

  Harper ran to the mudroom door to let him out.

  Ben pulled out his phone again and dialed. In the cloud, Lucinda paused in the struggle as though she felt the buzz in her pocket, but she didn’t stop fighting with Quinn, who now had her legs twisted around the railing as well.

  Ben kept calling his mother’s phone, alternating each call with a text message. But Lucinda was undeterred as she kept tugging at Quinn, who wasn’t giving an inch.

  Yoga had made Quinn strong and flexible. Lucinda had underestimated its power when she’d mocked Quinn for practicing the discipline. It was proving to be a fateful miscalculation.

  “Look, look, Archie’s already there,” Harper said, her voice high-pitched with excitement.

  In the cloud, Archie’s vibrant scarlet color streaked back and forth, dive-bombing Lucinda. She swatted at him and we could see her yelling, too. As I manipulated the cloud, trying to see how far away Nick was, I wished we could also hear what was going on.

  Or maybe I didn’t want to know.

  I caught sight of a flash of color and zoomed out. Nick had arrived—he must have taken his car onto the trail. It was the first time, perhaps, the little MINI Cooper had proved valuable.

  We watched as Lucinda slowly backed away from Quinn and Archie landed on the railing, near Quinn’s head.

  Nick held his gun as he neared Quinn, and I could see him shouting at Lucinda.

  “He’s saying ‘get down’,” Harper said.

  He was. It was easy to read his lips.

  Ve clasped her hands together under her chin. “Have mercy.”

  Lucinda was shaking her head.

  “Get down,” Ben whispered.

  We all watched in horror as Lucinda bolted forward toward the railing, only to stop short of flinging herself over as a bullet ripped into her leg. She crumpled on the bridge, writhing in obvious pain as Nick rushed over to her. As he slipped a pair of handcuffs on her, next to me in the kitchen, Ben put his head in his hands and wept.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “I’m a glutton for punishment,” I said. “Tell me why I’m here again.”

  “You’re a good person,” Nick said. “And have I mentioned how beautiful you look tonight?”

  “Yes, thank you. And you don’t look so bad yourself.”

  “Flatterer.”

  “I learned from the best.”

  We were dressed up, me in high-necked aqua-colored lace dress and Nick in a navy suit, standing in Glinda’s living room, watching as she and Liam gazed happily at each other. They’d been declared man and wife only a few minutes ago. Starla was bent low, snapping plenty of pictures. And I couldn’t help thinking what a strange and wonderful life I led.

  A year ago, Starla would have happily strangled G
linda with her camera strap.

  Now, they were friends.

  Not best friends. Not by a long shot. But there was peace between them.

  There was not, however, any peace between Dorothy Hansel Dewitt and me.

  If looks could kill, I’d be on the floor, outlined in chalk. She had been acrimonious since the moment she stepped into the house and realized, first, that there was a wedding happening and, second, that I’d been invited.

  She’d asked to speak to Glinda privately but Glinda had refused, and I thought for a minute there she was going to pop a vein and bleed out on Glinda’s Persian rug.

  While Dorothy had somehow managed to keep quiet during the ceremony, she’d been doing nothing but sniping, snorting, and scowling since.

  I was trying my best to avoid her all together. “Glinda looks happy.”

  Nick put his arm around me, holding me close. “She does.”

  “I’m happy for her.”

  He kissed my temple. “I’m happy you’re happy. It’s been in short supply this week.”

  It had been only a few days since Lucinda Bryant had been arrested. Days of sadness and remorse, of grief and guilt. I knew I wasn’t the only one who had been questioning if what had happened could have been prevented.

  Ben and Quinn were, too. They were living in chaos right now, trying to pick up some of the pieces of their lives while dealing with the police investigation, Lucinda’s arrest, and Joe and Madison’s sudden abandonment. They’d cut Ben off completely, blaming him for everything that had happened.

  The bullet Nick had fired had hit Lucinda in the thigh. An infection much like Vince’s had set in, and she was still in the hospital, under police watch. Doctors said it could take weeks, but she was expected to fully recover.

  It was clear to me as she ran toward the railing on the bridge that day that she would have rather died than be arrested. Whether because of shame for what she had done, or because she didn’t want to go to prison where she’d be surrounded by mortals, or for some other reason, wasn’t yet known. She was heavily medicated and had been since arriving at the hospital. But doctors were optimistic about her recovery, and soon she’d be formally charged with the murder of Abigail Stillwell, the attempted murder of Quinn Donegal, and with criminal harassment charges from the tire iron incident. It had been Lucinda who’d attacked me in the hospital parking lot, after fearing that Quinn had told me of her and Ben’s relationship and thinking I’d realize what had happened with Abby.

  Quinn had confirmed my speculation about what had happened to Abby was correct: Lucinda had been in the bushes near the trailhead the morning of the race. She’d told Quinn everything after she waylaid her heading to the jewelry shop Tuesday morning, telling her someone had attacked Ben on the trail during his morning run, and that she needed Quinn to come with her.

  Once they’d reached the bridge, the situation had taken a dark turn when Quinn realized Lucinda had lied to her about Ben being injured and that she was trapped—she couldn’t possibly outrun Lucinda. She’d grabbed onto the railing and started screaming.

  The ruse with Ben, we’d learned, was the same thing Lucinda had told Abby the morning of the Mad Dash. Lucinda had told Quinn so. And Abby, wanting to help, had willingly followed Lucinda to the Aural Gorge bridge … to help save her dear friend’s life. Only to lose her own.

  And if describing what had happened to Quinn hadn’t been enough of a confession, data collection from Lucinda’s GPS watch had proven the path she had taken the fateful morning that Abby had died.

  Joe cutting off his brother stuck like a thorn in my side and only verified what Ben and Quinn had believed all along—that the Bryants never would have supported his and Quinn’s relationship. Ever.

  Joe and Madison had problems of their own, however, with an IRS investigation. Madison also faced charges for threatening to commit a crime—the result of leaving that noose for me to find. According to her, she’d simply been trying to warn me from looking too deeply into Balefire’s bookkeeping, but I was hoping a judge would throw the book at her. It was too early to know the outcome either investigation yet, but a part of me hoped they would both spend a lot of time behind bars, just for being horrible people. Time would tell.

  In the end, it seemed like Ben and Quinn had lost just about everything. But they still had each other, and I had the feeling they would come out of this in the long run stronger than ever.

  Noelle Quinlan sidled over, clutching a glass of champagne for dear life. She leaned in. “Does Dorothy hate me?”

  I said, “Dorothy hates most everyone.”

  She winced and gulped her drink. “Oh dear.”

  “Fixer-upper, remember?”

  She let out a shuddering breath. “Don’t remind me.”

  I didn’t think it had been an accident that Vince had chosen Noelle as his date tonight. I suspected he’d been trying to divert Dorothy’s vitriol from Glinda. However, he’d been unprepared for the fact that Dorothy had plenty of animosity to go around.

  He kept looking our way as Mimi talked his ear off. His hand was in a soft cast, but once his incision healed, he’d be practically good as new.

  “Nick,” Noelle said, “again, I’m so sorry about your contract falling through.”

  Despite postponing the closing for a few days, the buyers hadn’t been able to secure their financing. Nick’s house was already back on the market. But not for long.

  “It’s all right,” he said. “Sometimes these things happen for a reason.”

  “I’m sure you’ll be under contract again soon,” Noelle assured. “It’s a great house.”

  That contract was going to happen sooner than she could imagine. Once Harper had heard about Nick’s deal falling through, she’d been on the phone to Marcus.

  They were going to buy Nick’s farmhouse and renovate the workshop garage into a guest house, so that when Marcus’s mother came for extended visits to the village, she had a private place to stay.

  “Oh! Did you hear the news about Abby’s house?” Noelle asked. Then she looked at Nick and laughed. “Of course you have. I’m just thrilled it isn’t going to be defaulted to the state.”

  I bet she was.

  Since they had been married, Duncan had inherited Abby’s house.

  The last I’d heard, from Quinn this morning, was that Duncan planned to eventually sell the house and invest the money in the training facility he and Abby had dreamed of opening together. And he had new investors: Quinn and Ben would be joining him in the venture, deciding that the three of them sticking together was more important than moving halfway around the globe.

  Noelle glanced at me. “How long do you think we need to stay?”

  “At least until cake,” I said, glancing over at the dessert table. The beautiful three-tiered ivory cake had one continuous Shakespeare quote decorating each level in golden lettering. “When I saw you, I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew.” The wedding topper was a pair of golden birds, which was appropriate, I thought, given the whole theme of this so-called party.

  “I do like cake,” she said, smiling.

  “We should go save Vince from Mimi’s interrogation,” Nick said. “She’s not going to leave him alone until she has every detail of his infection, from first cut to final suture.”

  I shuddered at the thought. I’d already teased him about his hospital adventures earlier, and when I asked him if he still thought Craft magic was lame, he’d given me a shrug and a small smile.

  Baby steps.

  We crossed the room, taking the long way around to avoid Dorothy, and Noelle snagged another glass of champagne from a tray, replacing her empty one.

  Vince eyed it wistfully. “If not for the medication I’m on … How soon can we leave?”

  Noelle laughed and linked arms with him.

  I swore I heard a growl from Dorothy behind me.

  “After cake,” Noelle said.

  “Isn’t it so pretty?” Mimi asked. She looked at
Nick and me. “I can’t wait to see what kind of cake you guys pick out. It’ll be chocolate, right?”

  “Of course,” I said.

  Nick smiled. “Every tier, I’m guessing.”

  “Of course,” I said again.

  “I can’t wait for summer,” Mimi said, beaming. “The wedding. And then Harper’s baby is due in September. It’s going to be—”

  “Baby?” Vince asked.

  “Baby?” I heard Dorothy screech.

  Oh, no.

  Glinda heard the shriek and came rushing over just as Dorothy elbowed her way into our group. “Did you say baby?” she asked Mimi.

  Mimi didn’t pick up on the caustic undertones and kept on talking. “You haven’t heard? Harper and Marcus are having a baby. Can you imagine? A little Harper running around?”

  “It’s a girl?” Dorothy said, her tone deadly.

  “Well, we don’t know yet. It’s too soon.” Mimi glanced around and noted our stricken faces. “Is it okay I said something? I thought that since Harper and Marcus are back together now…”

  “It’s okay, Mimi,” Nick said. “Don’t worry about it. Maybe we should get going…”

  “You don’t have to leave,” Glinda said. “The party’s just starting.”

  “Oh, they should leave,” Dorothy said. “Right now.”

  “What’s going on?” Noelle stage-whispered to Vince.

  He was watching me with worried eyes as he shrugged, clearly brushing off her question to avoid having to explain.

  Dorothy’s burning gaze swept from Glinda to me to Vince, but finally settled on Glinda. Rage infused her face, plumping her cheeks, making her eyes bulge. “Did you know?”

  “No,” Glinda said without hesitation, lying so effortlessly that I believed her even though I knew the truth.

  “Know what?” Noelle asked.

  Dorothy spun on her. “Shut. Up.”

  “Mother,” Glinda said. “Don’t be rude. This is a party. We’re celebrating. Sorry, Noelle.”

  Noelle nodded, but had shrunk into Vince.

  “Don’t,” Dorothy warned Glinda, “tell me what to do.”