by Morgana Best
Tinsdell was deep in thought, which worried me greatly. I still wasn’t exactly sure how the spell would influence his thinking, but it was clear that my ridiculous story was giving him some pause.
“So if I give you some hair, I might receive a gift?” he asked.
“Absolutely. A nice one. But there’s a chance nobody will pick your hair,” I pointed out. I wanted to make sure he wouldn’t be disappointed or curious if he never received anything.
“Yes, of course. A hair party.” He bit his lip. “But however do you know who the hair belongs to?”
“Oh,” I cleared my throat. “I label it,” I explained. I was hoping he wouldn’t realize that it made the hair entirely redundant, since we could just put names on paper, but to my relief he nodded slowly.
“Of course. I’d be happy to help.”
I passed him the scissors, nearly crying from relief. The hair safely bagged, I bid him farewell and left to find Thyme. Luckily, I ran into her in the hallway.
“Did you get his hair?” Thyme asked.
“Yes, though barely. How did you go with Dawson?” I didn’t want to press too much when it came to Thyme and Dawson, but I did need to find out the bare minimum. Thyme’s blushing was all I needed to know. “Okay, say no more. We’ve got it all, then. Let’s get ourselves to Ruprecht’s place.”
Thyme questioned me as we traveled, asking about how I got Tinsdell’s hair. I reluctantly told her the truth, and she was even more shocked than I was that it worked.
“Do you think he’ll be disappointed when he doesn’t get a gift?” she asked.
“Maybe we’ll have to send him something nice,” I shrugged. “Something small. And cheap. But nice.”
We arrived at Ruprecht’s without any hassle. He was waiting for us, and quickly ushered us inside.
“Did you get the hair?” Ruprecht asked as he threw some of the reversing powder around his store.
“Yes, somehow,” I sighed. “This will work, right Ruprecht?”
“Of course, yes, of course.” He nodded. “Most probably, I think. There’s only one way to find out, at any rate, so let’s get started.”
The spell was pretty much like the one I had devised to reverse the spell on my friends, and that gave me a measure of confidence. The only difference was a lengthy incantation.
As soon as I finished the spell, I turned on my phone. It rang immediately.
“Alder?” I said urgently.
I heard woman’s voice behind him. “Let me tell her.”
Alder responded with a sharp, “No.”
The next voice to speak was a woman’s. “Amelia?”
Chapter 18
“Who is this?” I tearfully asked the disembodied voice.
“I’m a nurse from Peak Hospital in Melbourne,” she said. “Alder Vervain has been a patient here for the past week. He was shot.”
“Shot?” I screeched. “Why wasn’t I told?”
“You’re not a relative,” she said in a matter-of-fact voice. “The hospital only informs relatives, but Mr. Vervain doesn’t have any.”
I was annoyed. “Isn’t he allowed one phone call?”
“This is a hospital, not a prison. I’ll hand you over to him now.”
“Amelia?” Alder’s voice was weak.
“What happened?” I shrieked. “How badly hurt are you? Are you in intensive care? Okay, I’ll shut up now. But how are you?” I added. Guilt hit me, guilt for thinking Alder was with another woman, when he had been lying in a hospital bed.
“I’m okay now. I’m sorry to scare you. I tried to call, but the nurses kept taking my phone.”
“I’ll come and see you at once. Oh, if you want me to?” I added weakly.
“I’d love that,” Alder said. “Only if it’s not too much trouble.”
And so, five hours, two flights, one shuttle bus ride, and one tram ride later, I found myself hurrying through the sanitized corridors of the hospital to Alder’s room. I wasn’t one for the smell of hospital disinfectant, and being somewhat of an empath, I had to block out the feelings of sickness and sadness that permeated the air.
I remembered the only other occasion I had visited a boyfriend in the hospital. I had, too, been full of sympathy, hurrying to see him, thinking all was well between us. What a shock that had been, when he had been rude to me and said he never wanted to see me again. That had been a momentous day—my boyfriend broke up with me, my bosses fired me, my landlord evicted me, and I found out I had inherited Aunt Angelica’s house and store.
I was shocked when I saw him. Alder was lying, his face white and drawn, in a hospital bed. I was relieved to see he wasn’t hooked up to machines. That was a small mercy, as I was horrified to see him in such a weakened state.
He opened his eyes, and his face came alive. “Amelia! Thanks so much for coming.”
His voice was weak, but I put on my bravest face for his sake. I hurried over to his bed. He clasped my hand, and his grip was frail. He shifted in the bed, and I saw that one shoulder was heavily bandaged.
“Whatever happened to you?” I said.
“I got shot,” he said simply. “I was supposed to be helping the police, but it all went wrong. Anyway, I’m going to be fine.”
“That’s a relief,” I said, although he looked far from fine. “I was worried sick, not knowing what had happened to you. I thought...”
Alder raised an eyebrow. “You thought what?”
“Nothing. These are for you.” I held out the bunch of flowers I had bought at the hospital shop on my way to his room.
“Thanks. They’re lovely,” Alder said.
I looked around the hospital room, realizing that mine were the only flowers there, apart from a solitary bunch. I assumed the police had brought those. I was filled with remorse. The nurse had said that Alder had no living relatives, and indeed I had known that. I had been thinking Alder was off with another woman, yet here he was, all alone with no family or friends to comfort him, in a hospital bed—and after being shot, at that. Alder patted my hand. “It’s all right, Amelia, don’t cry.”
I was embarrassed to realize that tears were trickling down my cheeks. “How long before they release you?” I asked quickly, in an attempt to cover up.
“Any day now,” he said weakly.
“I’ll fly back and get you,” I said. “And please stay with me. I can cook…” My voice trailed away when a look of fear flashed across his face. “On second thoughts, I can get take-out, and I’ll look after you. You can’t recuperate if you’re living by yourself, and I can drive you to physical therapy and stuff.” I held my breath, wondering if I had gone too far.
“I don’t want to be any trouble,” he muttered.
I didn’t know if he was gracefully trying to extract himself from the situation. After all, we had just started dating and I didn’t want him to think I was asking him to move in with me. I didn’t know whether to push the situation, in case he was just being polite in saying he didn’t want to be in trouble, or whether he truly didn’t want to stay with me. “No trouble at all,” I finally said. “I have a spare bedroom.”
With that, Alder laughed. “I’d love to, Amelia, truly. I’ll make it up to you. I’m sure I’ll be a bad patient, so take that as a warning.’
“I’m sure I can manage,” I said, my spirits lifting. “Is there anything I can get you?”
Alder nodded and gestured for me to come closer. He beckoned to me and I leaned down. His good arm shot out and clasped behind my neck, as he pulled me into a deep kiss. I don’t know how long we were like that, when a booming voice interrupted us.
“You’re supposed to be resting!”
I turned around to see a rather frightening looking nurse. She had her hands on her hips, and her jaw jutted out. She pointed to the chair beside Alder’s bed. “He’s supposed to be resting,” she said in an accusatory tone. “Sit!”
I did as I was told. The nurse bustled around the room for a moment, and then left. “Gosh, she w
as scary!” I said. “Anyway, I can’t stay long, but I’ll fly back when you’re discharged.”
Alder reached for my hand. “What’s happening in Bayberry Creek?”
I filled him in about the murder and the happiness spell. Alder held his sides. “The murder is a terrible thing, of course, but the happiness spell is hilarious. Or would be, under other circumstances,” he added, clearly doing his best not to laugh. “I’m puzzled about one thing, though. Who did you say asked you to do the Halloween spell?”
“Selena Simpson,” I said. “She’s a descendant of a lady called Nama, and apparently Nama did my grandmother, Thelma Spelled, a big favor years ago. There’s a family obligation for my family to do a yearly Halloween spell for Nama’s descendants.”
Alder frowned. “But your Aunt Angelica did the Halloween spell for Marina Mercer. I’ve never heard of Selena Simpson.”
“They’re sisters,” I announced.
“Marina doesn’t have any sisters.”
I was shocked. “She doesn’t? Are you sure? Do you know her?”
Alder adjusted his position in the bed, and grimaced. “Yes, I know her well. She brought me those flowers.” He nodded slightly to the other bunch of flowers.
“She lives in Melbourne?”
“Yes, in South Yarra, not far from here. She’s been visiting me daily.”
I was trying to take it all in. “But Ruprecht has never met Marina.”
Alder did what passed for a shrug. “No. Marina’s a private person. She became a client of mine, one year when she was in town for your aunt to do the Halloween spell, and we kept in touch. But all that aside, she definitely doesn’t have any siblings.”
A cold chill ran up my spine. “Then who is Selena Simpson? She said she was Marina’s sister.”
“I can help you out there,” said a voice at the door.
Chapter 19
I swung around to see the bearer of the voice. There, at the door, was a woman about fifty, roughly the same age as Selena.
“Marina,” Alder said. “This is Amelia, Angelica’s granddaughter.”
Marina crossed the room and took both my hands in hers. “How delightful to meet you at last, my dear. Alder has told me all about you. I wasn’t going to visit you this year to impose upon you for the Halloween spell.”
I didn’t know what to say, but she pushed on. “Now what’s this about Selena Simpson?”
I stood up so Marina could have my chair. Alder patted his bed. “Sit next to me.” I did so, and was gratified when he put his arm around me and pulled me close. Despite the overlay of hospital-grade soap and penicillin, he still smelled of white sage and lemongrass.
“She said she was your sister,” I said.
Marina scowled. “Certainly not. I don’t have any sisters.”
“But you know her?” I asked.
Marina nodded. “Yes. She was my boss for years. She owned a witchcraft supply shop in Melbourne—you know, crystals, tarot cards, that type of thing. We weren’t close friends as such, but we often had lunch together. I haven’t seen her for months. She said she was moving to northern New South Wales to get married. She sold the store, but I still work there, for the new owners. How do you know her?”
“She came to my house about a week ago, and said she was your sister. She said you didn’t need a spell this year, and she asked me to the yearly Halloween spell for her.”
Marina’s mouth fell open. “You’re kidding! What was the spell for?”
I told Marina the whole story, right from the beginning. Alder appeared to be intrigued, too, as I hadn’t yet filled him in on all the details. I finished by asking a question. “How did they meet?”
Marina tapped her chin. “Selena and I were attending a witchcraft supply trade fair in Tamworth, and the accommodation was all booked out because it was the same time as the Country Music Festival. I suggested we stay in Bayberry Creek. That’s how Selena met Nick Smith. She soon became obsessed with Nick Smith and said she was going to marry him. I had my doubts. He was already married, but she was sure he would leave his wife for her. She was convinced they were going to marry. I had told her that your aunt did a spell for me every Halloween, so she’s clearly gone to Bayberry Creek a week early to ask you to do the love spell.”
“She knew all about the Book of Shadows!” I exclaimed.
Marina looked shocked. “The Book of Shadows? What do you mean?”
“I accidentally dug it up recently when planting a rose,” I told her. “When Selena came to my house, she saw it.”
“I did tell her about it,” Marina said. “Me and my big mouth. I had no right to tell anyone else your family secrets, Amelia. I knew of the Book of Shadows, but Angelica never told me where it was. Selena knew I took a vacation every Halloween. I gave her details, because it was the worst time of year for anyone working at a witch supply shop to take a vacation.”
I turned to look at Alder, which was a little difficult, given we were snuggled so closely together. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
He nodded.
“Marina, is Selena likely to murder someone? I know that’s a strange question, but she was having lunch with Nick when he was murdered. His antacid medication was poisoned. From what I’ve been able to find out, he most definitely wasn’t getting a divorce, because he and his wife had an arrangement. They didn’t want to divide the property.”
Marina stared at the floor for a few moments. “She was an obsessive type of person, obsessed with Nick Smith. That was all she ever wanted to talk about. If she found out he wasn’t going to leave his wife for her, then…” She hesitated. “It’s possible, I suppose.”
“I’ll have to tell the police this,” I said.
Alder offered to call them, but his voice was weak, so I insisted.
“Detective Greene,” the voice barked.
I was left in no doubt that the spell had been reversed. “It’s Amelia Spelled,” I said. “I’m calling about Selena Simpson. She isn’t who she says she is. She told me she was Marina Mercer’s sister, but she isn’t.” I waited for him to speak.
“It’s not a crime to impersonate a civilian,” Greene said flatly.
“No, but,” I began, but he interrupted me.
“She confessed.”
“She did?” I said, surprised.
“Yes, when we first questioned her, she said she went to your house pretending to be a friend of yours, so that you would cast a love spell for her.” Greene chuckled.
“So she didn’t confess to murdering Nick Smith?’
There was silence for a moment, and then Greene spoke. “No. Is that all, Miss Spelled?”
I said goodbye, hung up, and looked at the others. They had heard the whole conversation, as I’d set it to Loud.
“Perhaps she did that to cover herself,” Alder said. “If she is the murderer, she would assume that you’d tell the police she was Marina Mercer’s sister. She would know the police would find out that she wasn’t sooner or later, and would find that suspicious. She was covering herself.”
“But she came into my house,” I said pointedly to Alder, hoping he would get my meaning.
“You’re wondering why the house let her inside if she’s a murderer?” Marina said.
I was taken aback. Just how much did Marina know about the house?
Marina must have noticed my shocked expression. “Angelica told me about the house,” she said. “I assume Alder knows?”
“Yes,” I said, surprised. “I don’t keep anything from Alder.”
Marina nodded. “The house isn’t all-seeing, of course. She only goes on what she sees.”
“She?” I said.
Marina frowned. “Amelia, you do know, don’t you?”
“Know what?” I wondered what was coming.
“That your house is actually your grandmother, Thelma Spelled.”
I felt Alder jump beside me. “What, what?” I stammered.
Marina bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I forg
ot you couldn’t have known. You never did meet Angelica, and she didn’t tell her friends—don’t ask me why.”
Alder’s arm tightened around me. “I’m at a loss,” I said. “Can you start from the beginning?”
“Your house isn’t exactly your grandmother, as such,” she said. “Thelma inhabits your house.”
“What do you mean?” I asked. “Do you mean she haunts it?”
“More like inhabits the house, I suppose. She can become the house, sort of,” Marina said. “Angelica did explain it better. Your grandfather, Wolff, inhabits the garden. That’s how the favor started. Thelma was good friends with my grandmother, Nama. There was a witch in town at the same time, a most evil woman. This woman had someone put a powerful spell on Thelma so that when Thelma died, she would be trapped in the house and Wolff would be trapped in the garden. Thelma went to Nama, who cast her own spell so that Thelma would be able to go into the garden whenever she pleased.”
This was all too much for me. “So are you saying that my grandfather is living—poor choice of words, I suppose—in my garden, and my grandmother in my house?”
Marina nodded. “Yes!”
Chapter 20
I walked up the front steps to my home, relieved that Alder was fine. I looked back at the garden, wondering where my grandfather was. The dripping lilac trees took on a whole new aspect with the knowledge. As I looked, the blossoms shook, releasing a heady scent. The soft white flowers of the baby’s breath shivered by the ancient flagstones as if to acknowledge my presence.
“Hi, Thelma,” I said cheerily to the house as I opened the door. “Marina told me all about you.” I waved, and then felt silly for doing so.
The cats were none too pleased to see me. “Sorry I’m late, guys,” I said, but their only response was to swish their tails in annoyance.
I knew I would get no peace until I fed them, so after throwing my purse and my keys on the coffee table, I hurried to the kitchen and deposited food in their bowls. I knew they would make me pay for weeks for being home late.