Some Like It Witchy: A Wishcraft Mystery

by Heather Blake

  As I waited for Nick to get home, I’d had a lot of time to mull over Raina’s case, and something Glinda had hinted at was eating at me.

  And it has to be someone who knows Andreus’s mother.

  The only concrete connection between this case and Zara was that charm. For Glinda to say what she did, that meant that the Myrian hadn’t come to Raina through Andreus.

  It’s the key to this case, I believe.

  I waved back and groaned when she headed my way. You give her an inch . . .

  Clarence and Missy were delighted to see each other and commenced sniffing. “You’re out early,” I said.

  “I could say the same of you.”

  “Long night,” I said. “You?”

  “Clarence has a weak bladder.”

  “My sympathies.” I looked longingly toward As You Wish. So close.

  “Thanks. It’s trying. Isn’t it, Clarence?”

  He balefully gazed up at her. I wasn’t sure how she disciplined him—I wouldn’t be able to ever say no to him if he looked at me that way.

  “How’s your investigation going?” I asked, wondering if she’d drop any more hints I could use.

  “About as well as yours.”

  I smiled. I might have even laughed if I hadn’t been so sleep deprived. “Did you find that connection to Zara Woodshall yet?”

  “I’m working on it.”

  Also on my to-do list was looking for Zara’s actual obituary. If it had been anything like my mom’s, it would list close family members. Maybe she hadn’t remarried but had been in a committed relationship. I hoped I could find someone that would know how the Myrian had made its way to Raina’s possession. If it hadn’t been via Andreus, who was the go-between?

  Fortunately, the large local papers had a database I could search for archived obits. It was a fee I’d happily pay.

  Glinda patted Clarence’s head. “I checked back with the library last night. No sign of the film yet.”

  “Wait for Colleen. She found it the other day.”

  She nodded. “I heard about the skeleton you found last night. Any leads on its identity?”

  It never ceased to amaze me how fast news traveled in this village. “No.”

  “Oh, I thought you might have some idea since you went straight to Bewitching Boutique afterward. Pepe is the village historian after all.”

  I took back my sympathies about Clarence. I hoped he peed all over her rugs. “How’d you know where I went?”

  Absently, she shrugged. “I hear things.”

  “Are you following me?” I asked.

  “Paranoid much?”

  “Evasive much?”

  “Look who’s talking,” she returned.

  I didn’t want her sniffing around Scott, so I tried to play off the visit. “I was just visiting with friends.”

  “Awful late for a social call.”

  And peed on her bed, too. “I don’t suppose you know where Andreus was last night? Someone was creeping around the Tavistock house. Nick chased him, but he got away.” Nick thought the intruder was too short to be Andreus, but it certainly couldn’t hurt to ask.

  “Nick should work on his endurance. He’s gone soft since dating you.”

  Peed on her. “So you don’t know where he was?”

  “I’m not his keeper. Ask him yourself.”

  “I will.”

  “Good.”

  “I should go,” I said, hooking a thumb toward As You Wish. “Good luck with your investigation.”

  “Yeah, you too.”

  As I walked away, I looked down at Missy again. “Good, bad, good, bad. She’s a complex piece of work.”

  She barked as if agreeing.

  Archie wasn’t in his cage as we went through the side gate. I wondered if he had known Terry stole those political signs. My instincts said yes. He was a loyal—and sneaky—bird.

  I unlocked the side door and crept inside, trying not to make too much noise. Even though Ve was an early bird, it wasn’t yet five in the morning. She still had half an hour before her usual wake-up time.

  I hung Missy’s leash on the rack, kicked off my shoes, and left my overnight bag by the door. Missy raced up the stairs ahead of me, and I couldn’t keep from yawning as I followed.

  Maybe I’d try napping for a while before tackling my research. My eyes watered from yawning so much, and my contacts floated a bit, blurring my vision.

  At the landing, I squished my eyes closed, trying to resettle my contacts. When I opened my eyes again, I was looking eye to eye with my worst nightmare.

  “Eeeee!” I shrieked, stumbling backward.

  A skeletal hand reached out and grabbed me, yanking me forward. I twisted my arm free and used the heel of my hand to strike upward, hoping to hit his nose.

  “Yow!” he cried.

  Score!

  I thanked the heavens that Nick had taught me self-defense moves. I spun, dipping low, and kicked my leg out straight to sweep his feet out from beneath him. With a bone-jarring thud, he fell flat on his ass. He let out a moan and slumped backward.

  Missy lunged for his ankle and dug her teeth into the skin.

  “Get her off,” he said, shaking his leg, then lapsed back into a moan. “Uhhhnnn.”

  Not a chance.

  Ve came rushing from her bedroom, tying the sash to her robe. She flipped on the hallway light. “What on earth?”

  In a flash, Andreus transformed from monster to movie star.

  Well, except for the blood oozing from his nose. I tried not to look at that—I didn’t want to faint. Gingerly, he touched his face and winced, letting out another moan.

  Served him right, creeping around in here. “Call the police,” I cried, holding my hands out as though I was going to karate chop him if he dared move. He didn’t need to know that I didn’t have a clue how to karate chop anything. “I caught him breaking in!”

  “Uhhhhn.” Keeping a hand over his face, he continued to wiggle his foot, trying to shake Missy free.

  “Oh my god! Missy,” Ve chastised. “Stop that! Let go. Let go!”

  Missy abruptly let go of his leg and ran over to me as Ve dropped down next to Andreus. “Are you okay?” she asked him.

  Was he okay?

  I was the one he’d grabbed. I stared. Blinked. Stared some more as she fawned over his prone body. For the first time, I noticed that he was wearing a pair of pajamas. Silk ones.

  Godfrey would approve.

  Hands on hips, I glared at the two of them. “What is going on here?”

  Cheeks blazing, Ve said, “Darcy, Andreus didn’t break in. He spent the night. He heard a noise and came out to investigate.”

  Came out. From her bedroom. I looked between the two of them. Back, forth. Back, forth. I recoiled in horror. “Ew!”

  Ve gasped. “Darcy Ann Merriweather!”

  Andreus sat up, grimacing as he kept touching his nose. “Uhn. A handkerchief, Ve?”

  “Oh! Yes, hold on.” She scrambled to her feet and darted into her room.

  “You broke my nose,” he said, looking like I’d hurt his feelings more than his face.

  “You grabbed me!”

  “You were about to fall down the steps when you stumbled backward.”

  I thought about what went down . . . He could be right. I winced. “Oops.”

  Ve rushed back to his side, pushing a hankie into his palm. “Darcy, I’m so sorry you found out like this. I—I didn’t think you were going to be back until later.”

  I usually spent a lot of time at Nick’s place on the weekends, so I could see why my arrival might have sparked alarm.

  I guess I didn’t need to ask Andreus what he’d been doing last night. The answer to that was extremely obvious.

  I pressed my lips together to suppress
a laugh. Wait until Harper heard about this. Ve was notorious for rebound relationships—sometimes before the actual breakup—but this one took the cake.

  Mr. Macabre. Mr. Creepy. Mr. Silk PJs.

  And he was a good ten years younger than her. Ve, the cougar.

  She’d outdone herself.

  I know she didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him, so this had to be all about curiosity. She was a smart witch—she wouldn’t have fallen victim to his flirty ways otherwise.

  “Terry?” I asked, needing to know.

  “History,” she said, her eyes narrowing.

  I made a mental note to check on him later and make sure he was still alive.

  “How long?” I asked, motioning between the two of them.

  “A few days,” Ve said. “I’m actually Andreus’s alibi for the time Raina was killed. He was trying to protect me by not telling you. We were, ah, together that morning.”

  His meeting.

  Too. Much. Information.

  I wished I could scrub my imagination out with soap.

  Suddenly feeling a little queasy, I thought I might hoik, as Archie so elegantly put it.

  And Andreus had been dead right—some secrets were meant to be kept.

  I wished to the heavens that I didn’t know this one. Slapping my leg for Missy to follow me, I said, “I think it’s time for bed.”

  “Darcy, dear,” Ve said, “did something happen? Why are you home so early?”

  I waved a hand. “Long story. I’ll tell you later. I’ll let you two get back to . . .” I shuddered.

  “Darcy!”

  “Sorry,” I said. “This is going to take some getting used to.”

  I actually doubted it was going to last much longer. Andreus, after all, was a love ’em and leave ’em kind of guy. It was the nature of his business—a different town every week. And Ve? She was all about falling for a guy, but her commitment issues would have her tiring of him before long. I just had to wait this out. Patience. I could do it. As long as I never, ever, ever bumped into him in a dark hallway again.

  Ever.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Ve asked.

  “No need,” I said, taking a wide berth around Andreus. “Sorry I hurt your nose, Uncle Andreus. Welcome to the family!”

  Panic slashed across his face.

  Peeved, Ve shooed me on. “Go, go on with you.”

  I went. Closing my door behind me, I didn’t know whether to laugh or gag.

  Grabbing my phone, I composed a text to Harper, then deleted it. This news was too good to send via text. This was a phone call kind of news. But I’d wait until the sun came up at least.

  Tilda rested on my pillow, blinking sleepy eyes at me as I came in. She usually slept with Ve, but I fully understood why she’d sought refuge in here last night. “You can stay as long as you want, okay?”

  She closed her eyes again.

  I sat on the edge of the bed, and Missy hopped up next to me. She nudged my arm, and I patted her head. “Thanks for biting him. I’ll brush your teeth later on, okay?”

  She slurped my elbow.

  “Right now, all I want to do is sleep.” I flopped backward and dragged the covers over me. Despite the night I’d had, and the fact that Andreus was down the hall, I smiled, still amused by the fact that Andreus was . . . down . . . the . . . hallway.

  As I drifted off, I felt Tilda settle on one side of me, Missy on the other. And for some strange reason the mourning dove’s coos just outside the window felt like a lullaby meant just for me.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Later that morning, the house was quiet. Ve had gone out, and I assumed Andreus left at the same time.

  Again, I shuddered at the thought of them together even if it was just to run an errand, never mind . . . other things.

  This witch’s mind really didn’t need to go there.

  Ever.

  I showered, put on a pair of jammie pants and a vintage Mighty Mouse T-shirt, and sat with my laptop at the counter in the kitchen, waiting for my hair to dry and the coffee to finish perking.

  Fighting a yawn, I typed in Scott Whiting’s name plus the TV network he supposedly worked for. Was he really a TV producer? It reeked of a ruse to me now that I knew who he was.

  A fancy webpage for the house-hunting show popped up, and sure enough his name was listed as a producer.

  Hmm. I went back to the SEARCH box and clicked the images option.

  Dozens of Scott Whiting photos popped up, and unsurprisingly, not a single man resembled the Scott I knew.

  Missy snoozed on her dog bed by the door, and Tilda sat next to her full food bowl, clearly displeased by the morning’s breakfast selection.

  My phone rang as I typed in the name Scott Abramson. I checked the screen. Cherise.

  “Good morning, Darcy,” she practically sang. “I have a favor to ask.”

  Someone was especially chipper this morning. Undoubtedly she’d heard the news about Ve’s breakup. “Shoot.”

  “I’ve been thinking of that house on Maypole. I want to see it again. I’ve called Calliope, and I’m to meet her there at noon. Can you come with me?”

  I wanted to say no, I really did. But she’d hired me through As You Wish to see her through her house-hunt, and I always finished my jobs. “I can, but—”

  “What?” she asked. “Are you thinking it’s not a good fit after all?”

  “It’s not that,” I said, trying to find the right words. I didn’t know how to ask about her relationship with Terry. “It’s a perfect fit. You’ve just been saying that you’d like to be closer to the village center.”

  “I’m a fickle creature, Darcy.”

  Her and Ve. Two peas in a pod.

  “I’m tired of always waiting, waiting, waiting, Darcy. Blah, blah, blah. I’d like to be settled. It’s time to take action. The worst that could happen is that down the road I find something better, and I’ve bought an investment property. I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”

  Hmm. I had the feeling there was a story about Terry in her words as well. “Take action. I like it.”

  Offensive not defensive.

  “Me, too, Darcy. Me, too.”

  We set a time to meet up, and I hung up, turning my attention back to my computer screen and the search for Scott Abramson.

  Plenty of pages popped up, ranging from doctors to teachers to CPAs. Who knew it was such a common name? I tried the image option and scrolled and scrolled.

  No photo matched.

  I typed in Jane Abramson’s name plus Eleta’s.

  There were a ton of hits on the names, but none of the articles mentioned them together.

  How had they known each other? Because Jane hadn’t ended up in Eleta’s wall for no reason.

  Hopefully, once I confronted Scott with his true identity he would open up.

  Switching tracks, I loaded the obituary database and typed in Zara’s name.

  No matches.

  I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I was.

  I checked the time in the corner of my screen. Ten oh two.

  Nick was going to be here soon, and I’d barely gotten any work done.

  Taking a deep breath, I grabbed a mug from the cabinet and filled it nearly to the top. I added a teaspoon of sugar—I was cutting back—and a splash of milk and took a fortifying sip.

  Sitting back down, I set my laptop aside and opened the folder of vital records Harper had given me to study them a little closer.

  Zara’s death and birth records revealed nothing I didn’t already know. I flipped to Andreus’s birth certificate. Andreus Felix Woodshall.

  My gaze fixated on the name Felix, my subconscious nagging me that it was important. Why?

  Closing my eyes, I searched the recesses of my bra
in, but I couldn’t find the connection. I’d had only three hours of sleep, so I hoped the link would come to me once I woke up a little bit more.

  I picked up Sebastian’s death certificate, and cringed when I saw that he’d died of multiple gunshot wounds. Recalling the look I’d seen on thirteen-year-old Andreus’s face at his father’s funeral, I once again felt a pang for him. My mother’s death had been accidental, which in this case seemed like a blessing. I couldn’t imagine if she’d been murdered.

  With thoughts of her fresh in my mind, I turned back to my computer and typed in What does Deryn mean?

  I’d been curious ever since Glinda mentioned it.

  The search led me to a baby name site. After x-ing out a half dozen pop-up ads, I scanned the page.

  Deryn. Der-yn. English/Welsh. It was derived from the word aderyn, meaning bird.

  It made me like the name even more, considering that my mother had loved birds. Her feeders in the backyard were always full.

  For kicks, and because I was in full-on procrastination mode, I looked up the meaning of Darcy (it was either Gaelic for dark one or English for someone hailing from Arcy), Harper (one who played harps), and Velma (depending on the site, it was either from the Greek for strong-willed warrior; a form of Wilhelmina; or a feminine form of William). I liked the warrior description. It fit her. She was as strong-willed as they came. When she made up her mind that she wanted something, she went after it. Whether it was to run for village council chairwoman . . . or to date Andreus.

  When I found myself typing in Starla’s name, I gave myself a good mental shake. There was procrastination; then there was procrastination.

  Turning my attention back to the vital records, I scoured them for more information, but came up empty at every turn for anything useful.

  Sipping my coffee, I held the warm mug tightly between my hands. My mind was cluttered—too much to think about right now. Between the case and Ve and Nick . . . It was all a little fuzzy.

  My phone arrroooed, almost making me spill my coffee.

  “Are you still sleeping?” Harper asked after I answered. “You sound sleepy.”

  “My brain hurts. Too much to figure out.”

  “Take two aspirin.”

  Harper’s answer to any ailment, mental or physical, was aspirin. “What do you want?” It was something, I was sure of it.