by Cindy Stark
“I’m not.” She grinned. “That’s why it sucks.”
She studied Hazel for a moment longer. “But for you, I’m going to say your current mood has something to do with one handsome police chief in town.”
Hazel rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Does everyone know?”
“Pretty much. Or at least they’re guessing.” Cora leaned closer to Hazel and whispered. “I have some special insight, though.”
Prickles erupted on Hazel’s skin, but she kept her reaction in check. “Insight?” she asked in a lowered voice and then ate another bite.
“Some people can read others better than most, and I can read you.”
Hazel swallowed the large lump of ice cream in her mouth, and it struggled to move down her throat. “How so?” she asked when she could.
“Oh, sugar.” Cora peeked over the tops of the booths and sank back down. “Did your mama not ever teach you how to conceal better?”
“Conceal?” Did Cora mean what she thought she did?
“Wow. Okay.” Uncertainty hovered in Cora’s wide eyes. She expelled a large breath. “I’m going out on a very dangerous limb here. If I’m wrong, and I’m betting I’m not, I pray you’ll keep my secret, but I think I know a kindred spirit when I meet one.”
Hazel held her breath, afraid and excited at the same time.
Cora locked eyes with her, and Hazel sensed something prodding her soul.
Her friend leaned forward. “You’re a witch like me, aren’t you?”
Hazel put her hand to her mouth to keep from gasping. Her heart thundered as every cell in her jumped for joy. “Yes,” she whispered and hoped she hadn’t just made a deadly mistake.
Cora beamed. “I’m so glad that’s finally out in the open.”
“How did you know? Because I didn’t conceal?” Her thoughts tumbled out in a whispered rush. “I don’t know how to do that. We never had to hide in the city. Oh, Blessed Mother, can others tell who are witches? Could they know?”
Cora’s lips curved into a comforting smile. “You’re okay. Don’t panic. You obviously haven’t used many spells since you’ve been here. No reason to think anyone else knows.”
Hazel shook her head. “I’ve only created a few potions and one disastrous glamour spell. I’ve been too scared.”
“That’s probably a good thing, but don’t worry, even I wasn’t sure that you were legit until I saw that darned orange cat hanging around your house.”
“Mr. Kitty? What does he have to do with anything?”
“That’s no regular cat, dear Hazel. If the lore passed down through the years in our families is correct, that cat was Clarabelle Hardy’s familiar. Apparently, he’s finally decided to take on another witch. No one believed he ever would.”
Seriously? Hazel placed her hands together like a steeple and rested her mouth on them. This was all so much to take in. “Clarabelle’s familiar? Are you saying he’s been here for hundreds of years?”
Cora shrugged. “That’s what the legend tells us. You share the same last name. Maybe you’re related.”
The words admitting that she was indeed Clarabelle’s granddaughter faltered on her tongue. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Cora, but… “Maybe.”
“That would make sense, wouldn’t it?”
She thought for a moment and then shook her head, needing to change the subject. “Maybe he’s an offspring. I don’t think a cat can live that long.”
“Who knows? Either way, you’re lucky he’s chosen you. He’ll protect you and help you.”
Hazel snorted, remembering him tripping her and causing her to fall on the stairs. “I think he’d rather trip me up than help me.”
Cora swirled another bite of melting ice cream. “Maybe you have to win him over first.”
She sighed, wishing she had special insight that would give her a clue about the future. “Maybe so.”
“Back to the chief.”
Hazel groaned halfheartedly. “I don’t want to talk about him anymore. The ice cream was just starting to work its magic.”
“Okay, okay.” Cora laughed. “You just need to be aware that he doesn’t play for our team.”
“Yeah. I figured as much, which is why I’ve been trying to keep him at arm’s length.” She paused. “And failing miserably.”
“I have a simple spell that will help hide your magic from him. I’ll give it to you before you leave.”
Like a neighbor giving her a recipe. “That would be great. Thank you.” Having a friend in town had lifted a weight she hadn’t realized she was carrying.
“Even so. Be careful. Okay?”
Hazel nodded. She intended to be very careful. “You said our team. We have a team? People I know?”
“Probably.” She scrunched her features. “You have to understand, though. People aren’t very forthright with their secrets. If the wrong person learns their identity, it could cost them their lives.”
“But we’re all witches.”
Cora shook her head, a sad expression on her face. “There are those who might betray us. Always be careful. If the time is right and it’s okay with you and some of the others who I trust, I’ll let you both know. But I’d need their permission first, too.”
“Of course.” She hesitated as another thought slithered into her mind. “Do they have a team? The other side?”
Her brows shot up. “Oh, yes. Which was why I felt I needed to say something to you.”
“Peter?” she asked and held her breath.
“No, I don’t think so.” Cora’s eyes teased her. “Or at least he hasn’t shown himself to be. But Timothy Franklin at the library. Mr. Winthrop who died recently. Samuel Canterbury. Those are the ones I’m pretty sure of. There’s likely others.”
Timothy? That wasn’t a huge surprise after listening to his comments. He’d been friendly at the library when she’d asked for books about the historic witches, but she wondered now if he’d been testing her.
One thing was for sure. She wouldn’t ask to see the special tomes any time soon or do anything else that might draw attention.
“Good to know. Thank you so much for telling me.” She grabbed a strand of hair and dragged it across her lips as she thought. “Aren’t you going to ask why I don’t just leave town?”
Cora shook her head and shrugged. “Crazy as it sounds, we all have our reasons for staying.”
Sixteen
By the time Friday morning rolled around, Hazel had firmly decided to cool things between Peter and her. This back and forth attraction and irritation wasn’t worth her sanity or her safety as a witch. She wouldn’t seek him out, even if it meant she’d be cut off from information on the robbery.
Gretta could take all following deliveries to the police station. If she happened to run into Peter in town, she’d be friendly but avoid all flirtation and leave the scene as soon as possible.
With that settled, she hopped on her bike and headed toward work, grateful that she loved what she did for a living.
Sophie stopped her before she reached her shop and motioned her into an alley between two old brick buildings. Tears stained the girl’s cheeks, and her aura held a frantic, worried quality. “Can I talk to you, Hazel?”
She couldn’t help but absorb some of the anguish. “How can I help you?”
Sophie blinked, wet eyelashes sticking to each other. “Basil said you were a friend.”
“Yes. I’d like to think so. Do you know where he is? I can help.”
She shook her head, and her chin quivered. “I don’t know. He left and didn’t tell me anything. I’ve been so worried that I can’t eat or sleep.”
Hazel’s heart opened. “You love him.” If she hadn’t known before, she did now.
Sophie gave several quick nods. “I know he loves me, too. But now he’s disappeared.”
Hazel took her hand and tried to give some comfort. “Some think he ran off with your mother’s pearls.”
“No, he wouldn’t do that. He’s
an honest man.” She snorted. “Too honest. I think something has happened to him.”
Hazel startled. “Why would you think that?”
Her tears started afresh, and she put the back of her hand against her mouth until she could regain a semblance of composure. “I know the police have been looking for him, and I heard they found a body.”
Sophie crumpled against Hazel’s shoulders and sobs erupted from her. “Worse, I think I’m pregnant.”
“Oh, Bless—” She coughed to cover her blunder. “Bless you, honey.” She patted Sophie’s back and didn’t try to stop the flood of emotions.
“What am I going to do?” she wailed.
Hazel pulled a tissue from her purse, lifted Sophie’s chin, and handed the tissue to her. “First, you’re going to breathe because if you are pregnant, this isn’t good for the baby. Second, let’s not panic. Until we’ve received confirmation, let’s not freak out and assume the body is Basil’s. It could be any number of people.”
Sophie released a shuddering breath. “I can’t help it.”
“I know.” She linked her arm through Sophie’s. “Come with me to the teashop. I have something that will help calm your nerves.” She’d come back for her bike later.
Hazel sent Gretta home for the rest of the day, even though she could tell her assistant was eager to stay and listen. But Sophie deserved the privacy.
When she had her settled and her last customer had left the shop, Hazel claimed a chair next to hers. “Feeling any better?”
Sophie sniffed and nodded. “A little.”
Now that Hazel had Cora’s concealing spell, she’d been brave enough to add a touch of her special calming potion to the poor girl’s tea. “Good to hear.”
Hazel relaxed into her chair and sent Sophie a warm smile. She yearned to ask a few questions but didn’t want to turn on the waterworks again. “You say you know Basil wouldn’t steal. Are you one-hundred percent sure?”
“I’m as positive as I can be. He’s not like that. Besides, I asked him to run away with me already. I have plenty in my trust fund to cover us until he can go to school and get a good paying job. That’s what he always wanted, you know.”
“Why do you think he wouldn’t run away with you?”
She wiped tears from beneath her eyes. “I don’t know. I wish he would have. He said my family would never accept him, but I told him I didn’t care.”
Maybe he wasn’t ready to be a father. “Did you tell him about the baby?”
“No, I hadn’t missed a period then.”
“What about your brother?”
A hateful expression contorted her features. “He’s the worst out of all of us. If he had taken them, it wouldn’t surprise me. Did you know he hasn’t been studying while at school? He’s failing.”
“Really?” Hazel straightened in her chair.
Sophie folded her arms and scowled. “Sounds like a perfect motive to me. He owes money for gambling and drinking. And he would be the type to steal from his own mother.”
“I sense a ‘but’ in there.” Which was disappointing.
“He says he’s already paid off his debts and has a job lined up for next semester.”
Hazel’s impression of the kid rose. “That’s good then.”
“If you believe him. I’m not convinced. If he ended up in jail, I’d never have to see him again. No heartbreak there.”
“Do you no longer suspect your aunt?” Since Hazel hadn’t been talking much to Peter, she hadn’t heard if June’s alibi had checked out. “Sounds like she’s had her eye on them for a long time.”
“Oh, yes.” Sophie widened her eyes and nodded. “But that guy did give her an alibi, and now, my mom won’t quit talking about how shocked she is that her sister has a lover.”
Hazel shrugged. People had a right to be loved and to be happy. “Maybe they were in on it together?” she suggested.
Sophie’s expression brightened. “I hadn’t thought of that. It would make sense.”
Hazel longed to go to Peter and mention the idea to him. “Maybe you should tell the chief. It could be worth examining. Obviously, your aunt’s prints would be in the house, but maybe Harold’s are there, too.”
Sophie bounced on her heels. “You might be right. I’m going to head to the police department right now. Thank you, Hazel.”
“Maybe Chief Parrish will have some news on Basil, too.”
A look of hope blossomed on her face. “I really hope so.”
Seventeen
Hazel took advantage of the warmer Sunday sunshine to take a walk in her favorite woods. Up until now, she hadn’t had a chance to visit the spot Peter had shown her because the weather hadn’t cooperated, or it had been dark by the time she’d closed her shop.
The carved-out place in the grove that witches had obviously used as a sacred space had now been taken over by teenagers playing with satanic rituals and asking for trouble. She might have to see about cleansing it and warding it with something that would scare the daylights out of the kids so they’d never come back.
Her feet crunched on pinecones as she walked, which released an earthy scent that purified her soul. She ached to go to Peter, to ask what he thought of her and Sophie’s idea about June and her man, to reassure him he had nothing to worry about where Luca was concerned, but also to tell him he needed to respect her boundaries.
She sighed and shook her head. This was all too impossible. She was crazy for trying to think of a way to make something work that never could.
Keeping her distance was the smartest choice, if not the easiest.
A spot of orange dashed across the path ahead, surprising her. She narrowed her gaze to see him better. This might be her chance to see if Mr. Kitty was stalking her, or if two similar kitties existed.
She sidled closer to get a better look.
“I see you,” she called out in a sing-song tone when she was a hundred feet away. If not for the turquoise collar around his neck, she wouldn’t have been sure, but, dang it. That was her cat. “What are you doing here?”
He meowed in response as though she would understand.
She put her hands on her hips. “If you were Clarabelle’s cat and have lived for hundreds of years, then you’ve had plenty of time to learn to speak my language.”
Another sassy meow told her exactly what he thought of that.
“Okay. Whatever.” She started walking again, trying to ignore him. It wasn’t like she could control what he did anyway. Cora’s suggestion of trying to win him over seemed ridiculous. She’d given him shelter and food, but he’d never let her close enough for them to get comfortable with each other.
How else could she win him over? She wasn’t buying him a mouse, if that’s what he wanted.
Mr. Kitty kept his distance but never let her out of his sight. She wondered if that was supposed to comfort her or scare her.
By the time she reached the sacred clearing, the walk had rejuvenated her soul. Unfortunately, the battle between her heart and brain waged on. She sat on the bench where she and Peter had talked before and searched for traces of Peter’s essence. He’d said he’d been here many times, so…maybe.
But nothing.
She stood and circled the area, whispering beneath her breath to remove what negativity she could, but erasing all evil would take something stronger. Perhaps a bonfire of white sage to clear it. Although how she’d get away with that, she wasn’t certain.
For now, this would help.
“Hazel.”
She yipped, covered her mouth, and whirled around like a wounded cougar that had been cornered.
The sight of Peter standing at the edge of the woods, not more than ten feet away, pricked a hole in her defiance and deflated her like a sad, withering balloon. “Peter. You scared me.”
His gaze traveled the path she’d just walked. “What are you doing?”
She swallowed and worked to keep her heart rate steady, wondering how long he’d watched her. Wondering wh
y she hadn’t sensed him. “Nothing. Just walking.”
“In a circle?”
She shrugged and slyly searched for her cat who conveniently seemed to be missing. “The clearing is a circle. Following the edge is easy and lets me think about other things.”
He studied her as he strode forward. “I’m glad I found you here.”
“Are you following me now, too?” She should have kept her words less antagonistic, but she couldn’t help herself.
His smile stole her defenses and warmed her insides. “Yes, I am. I drove past and spotted your bike, and I’m really glad I found you here.”
“Why?” She tried to keep some emotional distance but failed. She’d considered parking her bike behind the house again, but hadn’t. And this was why. Deep down, she missed him.
“I’ve been a jerk.”
That surprised her. “You have? I mean, yes, you have. You have no right to interfere in my life.”
He took her hand. “Sit with me?”
The reconnection with him further soothed her soul. She followed him complacently back to their bench. The smooth wood was cool against her bottom as she sat next to him. No worries, though, because the look in his eyes heated her right up.
“I’m sorry if I get jealous,” he said. “You know I like you, and I can’t help it.”
He held up a hand before she could reply. “But I’ll try, okay?”
His eyes mesmerized her, and her anger evaporated like rain on hot pavement. Her heart cheered even as her brain shook its head in disapproval. “Okay.” She smiled.
They sat in silence for a moment, but Hazel couldn’t stand not knowing. “Anything new in the investigation?”
He chuckled. “I knew you were itching to ask.”
She gave his thigh a soft punch. “Then why didn’t you tell me?”
His smile widened. “I should have.”
“Did Sophie come see you and tell you about our theory?”
“Yeah, but no-go. Harold volunteered to be fingerprinted, and no matches were found at Dotty’s house.”