“Oh for the love. Maybe my aura is just destined to be dark-ish. I have anger issues, remember?”
“This is different from your normal gray cloud, Emily.” Hazel led them back inside the house and Emily followed like an animal being led to slaughter. They sat down at the small table in front of the crackling fire and Emily considered that if they weren’t talking about rogue murdering witches, it would be a cozy scene. Hazel pulled out her deck and held it to Emily. “I’ll do a three card spread. Pick one and set it on the table face up.”
Emily sighed feeling torn between impatience and a small niggling of fear that she couldn’t quite understand. She reached out and took a card, noticing that her hand shook a little. Oh, brother. She rolled her eyes at herself.
The card she lay on the table was an image of a hunched over skeleton holding a sickle.
Death.
“You can’t be serious. Right now?”
Hazel cocked her head to the side and chewed on her lip. “Interesting. It’s no surprise that you are surrounded by death, but I think this means more than just these bodies you keep stumbling across. Even though Ingrid also finds the bodies, your aura looks different than Ingrid's. If this were just about these most recent murders, it would impact her too.”
“Like what else? Does this mean I’m going to die?” Emily heard the screechiness in her voice and took a couple of settling deep breaths. She wasn’t sure she even believed in fate. So if this card said death was part of her destiny, she could just out run that. Right? Her ex-husband was dead and haunting her book shop, her dead uncle haunted her car before she and Ingrid sent him over a cliff in a blaze of glory. Maybe this is just left over death aura hanging about. She said as much to Hazel.
“No, there is something coming. Definitely, something or someone in your future that brings darkness, death, or calamity. Take another card, Em. Let’s see what else we can come up with to give us answers.”
She reached out, forcing her hands not to tremble, and slowly turned this card over and lay it next to death. A naked man and woman standing under a bright white cloud.
Lovers.
“Well, that’s it, then Auntie,” Emily said forcing relief into her voice. “My former lover is dead. That totally makes sense. This is just residual gray cloud hanging around. I’m all good. Okay, I gotta run. See you.” She made a move to stand up and Hazel’s voice stopped her.
“Emily.”
Stern and gentle at the same time, like steel wrapped in silk. “Ugh. What? I like my analysis. Can’t we just leave it at that?”
“One more card, Emily. This is a three card spread and we don’t want to interrupt the reading. Plus, I’m convinced this is something in your future, not just your past.” She held out the cards. “One more, then you can rush headlong into your dark future if you insist.”
“Well, that sounds promising. I feel better already.” Still, she reached out and took a card and slapped it down on the table, feeling less fearful and more irritated with the whole production.
“Knight of Cups,” Hazel said. “Interesting. Is there someone you are dating that you haven’t told me about?”
Emily thought about her brief fling with Fireman Sam, who turned out to be not at all the tough, brave fireman type. She’d kicked his weak ass to the curb though after he screamed like a girl at the sight of a ghost. “No. I had a brief thing with one of the firemen in town, but that’s over now. What does this card mean?” Emily knew some of the basic Tarot cards, but like the rest of the magical world, she’d never paid more than cursory attention to any of it. So cards like Death, Joker, and Lover she understood but this card didn’t register for her.
“Well, it represents your Knight in shining armor.”
“Oh, please. I don’t believe in any of that fairy tale nonsense. My track record with men has left me with the harsh knowledge that chivalrous men are only fantasy.”
Hazel shook her head in obvious disapproval. “Just because you have exercised poor judgment in the past, doesn’t mean there isn’t someone out there made for you. A soul mate. Even I have one.”
“What?! You have a soul mate? How come I’ve never met him?”
“It’s nobody’s business but our own.” Her voice was harder than it had been only a moment before. And man did that make Emily want to pry. But the thing about Aunt Hazel was that you did not do anything that made her face look that pinched.
“Uh, okay.” Touchy, much, Auntie? Emily thought to herself and then wondered if Hazel could tell what she as thinking...maybe in her aura and that made her shift in her seat. Auntie loved Emily, but that didn't mean Auntie wouldn't let me suffer a little.
Hazel continued in her Tarot for Dummies explanation, her voice gentler now. “The Knight shows up when you are being romanced by someone special. Usually, someone who is very intuitive and connected to your thoughts. Someone who could get you and love you and be perfect for you.”
“Well, first of all. I’m not being courted by anyone. Second, I’m not into sensitive guys. I want hot, muscles, kissable. Not necessarily in that order.”
Hazel continued as if not hearing a thing Emily was saying. “It’s concerning that Death and Lovers appear with the Knight, though. Lovers can indicate a deep, lifelong connection with someone. I’m just not sure how the death fits in.”
Emily laid her face on the table. “Probably it means that I’m going to meet my soul mate, fall desperately in love with him, and then one of us will croak just when things start to get good. I hate my life.”
Hazel chuckled softly. “I doubt it will be that straightforward or doomsday.”
Emily was over this subject. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. You can obsess about my doomed future if you want, but I’ve got to find a way to help Mary get past this so I can get to Prague. Probably I’ll die there, because wouldn’t that be just my luck. What’s the sitch with Mary’s grandparents?”
“They started battling Doug for custody of Mary soon after Jill abandoned the family. Of course, now we know that isn’t what happened at all. Anyway, they wanted Mary to come and learn necromancy with them. They are very powerful witches and lead their coven.”
“Where is their coven located?”
“Seattle. They hide among the hipsters there and try to fit in. It’s pretty ridiculous actually. As I was saying, they wanted Mary to come live with them in Seattle and Jill always refused to let them have any contact with her. Her relationship with them was something like a refugee. She didn’t want anything to do with magic after whatever happened to her in Seattle. That’s why Mary has no idea about the extent of her powers.”
“When did she go missing, exactly?”
“Mary was 10 when Jill supposedly left. I don’t yet understand why I didn’t sense the death when it happened. I usually can feel when someone’s life energy is abruptly snuffed out. The necromancer who murdered her must have used some sort of cloaking spell so we wouldn’t notice.”
“Who do you think did it? You must have some guesses?”
Hazel shrugged. “I wouldn’t want to speculate. People often have much going on in their lives that we can’t know about. There could have been any number of people that Jill had a conflict with. Perhaps she was involved with someone else romantically. Her relationship with Doug never made much sense from the outside looking in. Doug Martin is hiding something. That much I know for sure. I just don’t know what it is, but I’ll bet it has something to do with this murder. But he's also not Mary's dad, so... just where is her father? Given Jill's history, I suppose Mary's biological dad could be a necromancer.”
“I’ll text Ingrid and see if she can get some info out of Gallery Guy. He wants to keep Mary out of jail so maybe he’ll talk. Do you think he did it?”
Hazel shook her head. “No. But it doesn’t really matter what I think.”
Emily pulled out her phone and texted Ingrid. “Hazel thinks Gallery Guy may have a sketchy past or, at least, knows something about Jill’s
disappearance. See if Sheriff Hotpants will let you have a crack at him. You can do good cop, cute cop with him. Maybe make out in front of GG or do some magic. That should make him uncomfortable.”
Emily was proud of herself. There were so many ways in which tormenting other humans made her feel better about life. And lovers. And death. Damn it. There was that dark cloud back again. “I’m going home to day-drink while I contemplate my future lover and his death.”
“Don’t wreck Ingrid’s precious Land Rover. She might be the one who kills you,” Hazel called out behind her.
Emily muttered under her breath as she stomped toward the sparkly SUV and contemplated actually going off-road in Ingrid’s Precious. If she were going to die anyway, she’d rather Ingrid be the one that killed her and that it be for a stupid reason. She started the truck and peeled out of Hazel’s driveway. Vodka. It was definitely not too early for vodka. Where the hell was Prague? Damn, damn, damn. She needed Europe now. Now!
CHAPTER 5
Becoming Samantha
Gabe pulled the cop car up in front of Autumn’s house. It was an SUV type rather than the city sedan, and possibly Ingrid found it a little bit sexy. But…this was Autumn’s house. Ingrid rubbed her hands together in glee.
“This dove hates me, Gabey,” Ingrid said. “It’s gonna be so fun to screw with her.”
“Don’t call me Gabey,” he replied tonelessly.
Gabe walked up Autumn’s walk while Ingrid skipped next to him.
“You’re going to break your leg in those sandals,” he said, watching her with his hands on his hips.
“But,” Ingrid said, holding out her foot. “They’re so pretty. And look at my toes! They’re all sexy.”
Gabe’s eyes glinted for just a moment before he put his cop mask back on.
“I don’t get you,” Ingrid said, cocking her head to examine him seriously for a second.
Veruca, Autumn’s daughter, opened the door and stared at them.
“Pretty shoes,” Veruca said in a deadpan voice. “Is my mom a suspect of another crime.”
“You too, you necromancer you,” Ingrid replied.
“Really? Cool.”
“I knew I liked you,” Ingrid said, skipping up the steps and twining her arm with Veruca. “Even if your name is the stupidest name I have ever heard.”
“Call me Meg,” Veruca said.
“Nah,” Ingrid replied, “Meg rings wrong in my head.”
“So, I’m a murder suspect?”
“How old are you?” Gabe asked, giving Ingrid a look that told her to shut up. She blinked her lashes innocently at him.
“Seventeen,” Veruca said. She looked nothing like Autumn, who was, to put it nicely, a robust woman. Veruca was slim to the point over too skinny, her nose was pointed and adorable, and her hair was straight with purposefully jagged ends.
“No,” Gabe said. “You are not a murder suspect. You would have been about 10 or 12. Maybe.” Gabe pulled out his phone and made a note. Even Ingrid was sure it was to figure out when Jill disappeared.
Veruca was the one who cocked her head and examined them this time. You could almost see her brain calculating before she said, “Is this Mary’s mom?”
Ingrid gasped as Gabe said, “We can’t say at this time.”
“Ingrid just did,” Veruca replied. “My mom wouldn’t have killed Aunt Jill.”
“Wait what?” Ingrid said.
“Mom and Jill were best friends. Aunt Jill came to the island because Mom was here.”
“That’s enough Veruca,” Autumn said.
Ingrid gasped and spun, “For a large woman, Autumn, you move like the grim reaper.”
“That’s for real,” Veruca said. She hadn’t jumped. Ingrid suspected the kid was immune to her mom showing up terrifyingly behind her.
“Autumn Jones?” Gabe said, holding out his hand. “I’m Sheriff Gabriel Tate, and I’d like to ask you a few questions.”
“With your girlfriend on your arm? I don’t think so.”
“Ingrid is helping with this investigation,” Gabe said calmly.
“Just because Ingrid is leading you around by the nose doesn’t mean I have to accommodate your intention to return to her bed.”
“Rude,” Ingrid said.
“Ingrid, “ Gabe started, but Ingrid held up a hand.
“A necromancer killed Jill Martin and Hazel sent us to you. Together. You could blow us off, of course. But then you’d have to explain to the Elders of the Coven.”
Autumn’s eyes narrowed.
“Have you not been promoted to elder because you’re a necromancer?” Ingrid asked callously. “Or is just because you’re a mean and nasty dove?”
“Mom, just answer their questions. If someone murdered Aunt Jill, we should help. Where’s Mary?” Veruca asked.
“She’s at Hazel’s,” Ingrid said, smiling at the kid. Ingrid knew she’d liked that kid despite her evil, wench dove of a mom.
“Go to Mary,” Autumn ordered. “Take your sister. Let’s start again, shall we?”
Autumn turned and led the way to the house. Veruca shot Ingrid a thumb’s up and ran past her mom shouting her sister’s name. Autumn led Ingrid and Gabe into her pristine kitchen. A pot of soup simmered on the stove filling the kitchen with an amazing scent, but you wouldn’t have known that anyone had cooked. The kitchen looked like it had just been unboxed and never used.
Ingrid walked past Autumn, opened her cupboards and helped herself to a bottle of wine. Before Gabe or Autumn could stop her, Ingrid had pulled the cork using her magic and flicked herself a wine glass.
“That’s a very expensive bottle of wine,” Autumn said, eyes narrowed.
“Bill me,” Ingrid replied seriously.
“We’re investigating,” Gabe replied.
“Please,” Ingrid said. “You’re investigating. I’m making sure that Autumn doesn’t dose you or magic you.”
“Like you could stop me,” Autumn replied, “You are the worst witch I have ever seen save Emily. I don’t know why they let you in the coven. Let alone why they indulge you two. Of all the …”
“We’re family and friends,” Ingrid replied, suddenly in a nasty mood. She didn’t know why the coven put up with them either. Half the time she wished they’d leave her and Em alone. But…but…they were family. Without the coven, Ingrid wouldn’t want to live here. She didn’t know when it had happened, and she had zero desire to improve her magic, but she had somehow enjoyed being part of the coven.
“I don’t have to stop you,” Ingrid said. “I just have to tell Hazel. Also, and I mean this seriously, the coven likes Emily and me despite ourselves. They like you despite yourself. You’re mean and nasty and cruel and as far as I can tell horrible to everyone but the elders. But they put up with you too.”
Autumn’s cheeks were flushed when she said, “Ask your questions.”
She spoke only to Gabe. Ingrid simply raised both brows and took a long sip of wine. It was pretty crappy. Autumn probably bought it on price alone rather than any other factor. Ingrid would persevere regardless.
•••
“How did you know Jill Martin?”
Autumn pulled out another glass and slapped it on the counter taking the wine bottle from Ingrid.
“If you drink part of it, you better adjust your bill,” Ingrid said, knowing that Autumn actually would charge her for the wine.
Autumn paused and then went to get another bottle of wine. “This way it will be clear. I assume you don’t want any, Sheriff.”
“Don't drink or eat anything she gives you,” Ingrid advised seriously.
He nodded once, a smile flashing at the corner of his mouth. Was he laughing at her?
“I wouldn’t dose the sheriff.”
“You’re an evil, mean dove. You’d dose the mailman just to watch him dance.”
“I’m working,” Gabe said as if to end the fight.
“Not even water or coffee.”
“This,” Autumn sna
pped, “is coming from the person who keeps a stockpile of truth serum. Though I am shocked any serum made by you actually works properly.”
“You have a stockpile of truth serum?” Gabe looked as if he wanted to dig through her bag.
Ingrid nodded, sipping her wine and said, “In the wine cellar. Also, obviously, I buy the serum from Saffron.”
Autumn settled onto a bar stool and said, “Well that makes so much more sense. I was sure you couldn’t do any magic that was not directly related to vanity or coffee.”
“Something you can’t say considering those lines on your face.”
“Ladies, please,” Gabe said.
“Gabe,” Ingrid told him seriously. “Get on with it. I am hungry, and like I said, we can’t eat her food. Not all of us got Hazel-made sandwiches before Hazel, our coven elder, told us to come interview you about murders and death magic.”
“She said that?” Autumn didn’t pale. She was too cold and hard for that. But Ingrid was sure, despite the utter lack of reaction, that Autumn didn’t like the statement.
“She sent us here.”
“Mrs. Jones,” Gabe said, kindly. But it was the cop type of kind. The sort of gentle, but you must answer and either way, I will pin you to the board of murderers if I found out you killed anyone. “You knew Jill Martin before her death. Before her life here. And you’re capable of this type of magic called,” he glanced down at his notes, “necromancy.”
Autumn waited. She wasn’t going to volunteer anything. Ingrid watched Gabe, rather than helped. She wanted to see him in action. That type of cop was interesting to Ingrid. This was a facet of Gabe she hadn’t seen before. She realized or thought that perhaps if it were her he was questioning, he’d have done it differently.
She examined him while he examined Autumn, thinking back to when he had questioned her about Sheldon. Gabe had been…he hadn’t been nice. He’d been mad at her and frustrated and trying, she thought, to protect her. He had never once believed she’d killed Sheldon. The same, however, could not be said of Autumn.
“You know how to do necromancy?” Gabe asked. “you were born with the skill?”
Bewitched Murder (Inept Witches 3) Page 5