Spell's Bells (Spellbound Paranormal Cozy Mystery Book 3)

by Annabel Chase

  Unsurprisingly, he was mistaken. I never set out to make him look like an idiot. He managed to do that all by himself.

  “What makes her your prime suspect?” I asked.

  “She was found at the scene with a wand in her hand.”

  “And?” I prompted. There had to be more than that.

  “And she was alone.”

  I struggled to bite my tongue. When it came to police procedure, Spellbound rules were far more relaxed than those in the American human world.

  “Has she said anything?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “Says she didn’t do it.”

  I strangled a scream. “Can I see her?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Not if you intend to start trouble.”

  My hands flew to my hips before I could stop them. “I intend to comfort my friend, who is probably very upset and scared.”

  He grunted and motioned me forward. “Third cell on the right. Five minutes.”

  I hurried down the corridor until I reached Sophie. There were no bars like in human jails, only an invisible barrier between the corridor and the tiny room.

  Sophie stood at the invisible barrier, waiting. She clutched a tissue in her fist, the only sign that she’d been crying. “I heard your voice. I so hoped I wasn’t imagining it.”

  I pressed my palms against the barrier. “Tell me what happened.”

  “I was gathering berries for our magical baking class tomorrow,” she explained. “Last term Ginger had shared a recipe for burstberry muffins and I wanted to recreate it.” Ginger was one of the few redheaded members of the coven. Although she was young, she sometimes acted as a substitute for Professor Holmes or Lady Weatherby.

  “And you stumbled upon the coffin?”

  She sniffed and nodded. “At first, I didn’t realize anyone was inside. I thought maybe a vampire was using it as outdoor living space.” A vampire version of a cabin in the woods. “Then I realized how short the length was and I knew it couldn’t be meant for a vampire.”

  “Why did you draw your wand?” I asked. Sheriff Hugo said he’d found her holding her wand.

  “When I looked inside and saw the dwarf’s face, I panicked. I pulled out my wand and jumped backward.” Her chin lowered. “I managed to trip on a rock and fell on my butt. That’s when the sheriff arrived.”

  “Do you even know the dwarf?” I asked.

  “I know his name is Freddie. We’ve interacted on occasion, but no. I don’t know him well.”

  “Did you tell the sheriff what you told me?”

  “Of course.” She wiped a stray tear from her cheek. “He didn’t care. He said I was the only one on the scene and he had to bring me in.”

  “Did you see anyone else while you were out there?”

  She shook her head. “No. My owl was with me, but that’s it.”

  “Did the sheriff say how he knew about the coffin?” I asked.

  “No.” Sophie placed her palms against the invisible barrier, mirroring mine. “Emma, I’m scared.”

  “Don’t worry,” I said. “I won’t let him keep you here.” I wasn’t sure how I could secure her release, but not knowing how to do something wasn’t a deterrent for me. Sophie was my friend—my sweet, innocent friend. I had no intention of letting her fall victim to the sheriff’s lazy work ethic.

  “My parents are on their way,” Sophie said. “I’m sure they’ll give the sheriff an earful, too.”

  I kissed the barrier and took a step back. “Stay strong. Let me see what I can do.”

  There was a question nagging me. On my way out of the office, I decided to get it off my chest.

  “Sheriff?”

  “No, I’m not going to release her, even if you say please,” he replied.

  I smiled indulgently. “What were you doing in the forest?”

  He scowled. “What do you mean?”

  “Had someone alerted you to the coffin? What made you go there?”

  “No,” he said gruffly. “I was taking my morning walk.”

  His morning walk? “You walk in the woods every morning?”

  “On the mornings I don’t have a tee time.” Sheriff Hugo was a regular on the golf course and in the local pubs. He had plenty of time for leisurely pursuits because he left the actual crime solving to everyone else.

  “Do you do anything on these walks?” I asked.

  He arched a bushy eyebrow. “Are you interrogating me, Miss Hart?”

  I leaned back slightly. “Of course not. Just curious. I know other residents who find a walk in the woods to be good for the soul.” Chief among them was Daniel.

  “I usually don’t see other townsfolk,” the sheriff added. “I was as surprised as anyone to find a glass coffin.”

  “As surprised as Sophie, I imagine.” I flashed a cheeky smile.

  His expression clouded over. “You know the way out.”

  If I didn’t, I had no doubt he’d be more than happy to show me.

  Ginger stood in front of the class, an array of mixing bowls in front of her. “Today begins one of my favorite segments. Magical baking.”

  Laurel rubbed her stomach eagerly. “This was my favorite last term.”

  “Did anyone fail this section?” I asked in a hushed tone.

  Laurel shook her head. “No, although Sophie came close. She overdid a few of the spells and disaster was narrowly avoided.” Despite the pass rate, everyone had to repeat the section. A witch had to pass every class before she was permitted to graduate. If she failed any one of them, then all classes had to be repeated. Rules were strict at the Arabella St. Simon Academy.

  At the mention of Sophie, my expression soured. I couldn’t bear to think of her rotting away in a holding cell when she didn’t deserve to be there.

  As though summoned by magic, Sophie burst through the door of the classroom.

  “Sophie,” Laurel cried.

  The four of us ran to embrace her.

  “I can’t believe he let you out,” I said, hugging her tightly.

  Sophie grinned. “Apparently, the coven objected on several grounds. Lady Weatherby was very persuasive.” As a member of the town council and head of the coven, Lady Weatherby wielded tremendous power in Spellbound.

  “That explains why she’s not here today,” I said. “So are you off the hook completely?”

  Sophie groaned. “Of course not. Sheriff Hugo said he’d be looking into my statement. He warned me not to leave town.”

  “Oh, he’s hilarious,” Begonia said, rolling her eyes skyward.

  “Lady Weatherby is still in the sheriff’s office,” Sophie said. “She’s trying to explain why she can’t easily remove the enchantment.”

  “I’ll bet the sheriff loves that it’s complicated,” I said. Sheriff Hugo wanted the easy answer to every problem. Black and white were his favorite colors.

  Ginger snapped her fingers. “I know we’re all thrilled to welcome Sophie back, but we need to stay on track. I don’t want to be the one to tell Lady Weatherby that we fell behind her carefully set schedule.”

  We took our seats and watched as Ginger tapped each bowl with her wand, filling them with a variety of ingredients.

  “We’ll start simple,” Ginger began, “since this is all new to Emma.”

  Forget the magic part, baking was new to me. I wasn’t exactly an expert in the kitchen, a fact that Gareth found endlessly amusing. My grandmother had considered the kitchen her domain and my grandfather and I were forbidden to enter without her explicit consent.

  “Are we going to bake gingerbread surprise again?” Millie asked. Usually we weren’t permitted to speak in class unless spoken to, but Ginger’s style was less formal than Lady Weatherby’s. One of the reasons we all liked her.

  “I thought I’d vary it this term,” Ginger said. “I don’t want you girls getting bored.”

  “Do I smell honeysuckle?” Begonia asked, sniffing the air.

  “You do,” Ginger said. “Today we’re going to learn how to bake a loaf of
truth bread.”

  “Truth bread?” I echoed. “I thought we couldn’t do spells that forced people to be truthful.” I only knew because I’d asked Lady Weatherby about truth spells when I’d first arrived in Spellbound.

  Ginger wagged a finger. “It’s not that you can’t do them,” she explained. “It’s that you have to be careful how much weight you place on the result. The truth can always be manipulated. Truth bread is a straightforward spell, though. Designed for simple questions, such as finding out which child spilled burstberry juice on your sofa.”

  As an only child, no truth spells would have been needed in my house. I was the only one to blame.

  “Does the sheriff ever use truth spells?” I asked. “Like could he have Sophie eat the bread and ask her if her statement was truthful?” The magical equivalent of a lie detector test.

  “The town prefers not to use magic in that way,” Ginger said.

  “Because there are also spells that can make you lie,” Millie interjected. “What if someone had secretly used one of those? No one would know which version was the truth.”

  “Does truth bread always involve the same ingredients?” I asked.

  Ginger shook her head. “There are always substitutions available, but you must be very careful when you use them.”

  “If you measure wrong or use the wrong ingredient, it changes the spell completely,” Millie added.

  Begonia giggled. “Remember Sophie’s energy muffins?”

  Sophie buried her face in her hands. “Don’t remind me.”

  “She used the wrong ingredient and it had the opposite effect,” Laurel told me. “Everyone who ate them fell asleep instead.” They all began to laugh until the realization settled upon them—Sophie had used a sleeping spell once before.

  “It wasn’t an Endless Sleep curse,” Begonia said quickly.

  Sophie paled. “And it was an accident. Spell’s bells, do you think the sheriff will use that as evidence against me?”

  The room fell silent.

  Ginger forced a bright smile. “There’s no reason for anyone to mention it, is there?” She waved Sophie forward. “Come on then, Soph. You’re my helper today.”

  Hesitantly, Sophie stood and walked to the front of the room. “Maybe this is a bad idea.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Ginger assured her. “You’re one of us, Sophie Gale. We’re not letting anyone send you to prison.”

  “I feel so awful for Freddie,” Sophie admitted. “Yet most of the time, I’m worried about myself. Shouldn’t I be worried about him? I mean, he’s the one in eternal slumber.” A few tears escaped and she dabbed them away with a handy tissue.

  “We all feel terribly about what’s happened to Freddie,” Ginger said, placing a comforting arm around her. “No one is going to ignore him. There are plenty of people in Spellbound who care about both of you.”

  Sophie mustered a smile. “I know. I’m very lucky.”

  “Good. While you’re feeling lucky,” Ginger said, “let’s bake some magical bread.”

  I observed closely as Sophie and Ginger measured ingredients and kneaded the dough. Every single step in the instructions had to be strictly followed. There was no room for error. I felt my anxiety slowly increasing at the thought. Good thing I was still taking the anti-anxiety potion that I acquired during broomstick training. It seemed to be helping, along with harp therapy. Since I also had trouble sleeping, I started to use harp music to help me sleep at night. Gareth and Sedgwick complained bitterly, but I didn’t care. I was having the best sleep of my life and I had no intention of stopping because they disliked the harp. I had a bedroom door and I wasn’t afraid to use it.

  “Can you use the truth ingredients in other things beside bread?” I asked.

  “Absolutely,” Ginger said. “You can grind them up and make a powder or liquefy them for a potion. As with many spells, there are loads of options.”

  A gust of air blew through the open window and Sedgwick flew into the classroom.

  “Sedgwick,” I chastised him. “You have to be more careful. You could have made a mess of the ingredients.”

  Ginger gave me a sympathetic smile. “It’s fine. We’re ready to bake it now.”

  What’s so urgent? I asked.

  There’s a vigil later today for the dwarf, he said. Thought you’d want to know. Maybe show up and troll for suspects.

  You’re being very accommodating, I said. It was rather suspicious. Sedgwick usually preferred sarcasm to selflessness.

  The sooner they wake up the dwarf, the sooner I get my forest back. All of the foot traffic coming in and out to see the coffin is scaring my food away.

  Ah, now it all made sense.

  Thanks for the heads up, I said. I’ll see what I can find out.

  Chapter 3

  The vigil was held at sunset. Ribbons of orange, pink and red streamed through the trees, bathing the casket in colorful light.

  “He looks so peaceful,” Begonia whispered. “I guess that means he’s having pleasant dreams, right?”

  Trust Begonia to look on the bright side of a coma.

  I surveyed the attendees, trying to zero in on any potential suspects. I hadn’t met Freddie yet, so many of the residents here to pay their respects were unfamiliar to me.

  “Don’t look now, but your neighbors are here,” Millie said.

  I casually turned my head in time to see the arrival of the Minors. The parade of fearsome harpies was led by Octavia, their caustic matriarch.

  The visitors moved aside to let Octavia pass. She wasn’t physically intimidating—not in her human form, at least—but she could crush you with a single look. Most residents were smart enough to stay off her radar.

  “I haven’t seen the Endless Sleep spell at work since that whiny princess back in the old kingdom,” Octavia said. She stood over the glass coffin, studying the dwarf’s appearance. “If anything like this ever happens to me, make sure you don’t let my mustache grow in.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Marisol said, dutiful daughter that she was.

  “And be sure to pluck my chin hairs. If you leave it too late, the ants will be braiding them before long.”

  Marisol nodded somberly.

  “What would you care about facial hair when you’re in an endless sleep?” Phoebe asked. Phoebe was a few years older than Marisol and just as acerbic as her mother. I’d gotten to know her a little bit in harp therapy class—well enough that I steered clear to the extent possible.

  Octavia rounded on her daughter, pointing a jagged fingernail in her direction. “And that’s exactly the attitude that keeps you a spinster, darling daughter.”

  “I’d like to say a few words, if nobody minds,” a sweet voice interjected.

  A young woman stepped forward. She was short and busty, with brown hair and big brown eyes. Between her sweet voice and soft demeanor, she struck me as a hugger.

  “For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Heidi,” she said. “I’ve known Freddie for years.”

  “Heidi’s a naiad,” Begonia whispered. Naiads were water nymphs. “Her grandmother helped design the fountain near the town square.”

  “Everyone who’s come into contact with Freddie is aware of his kind and generous heart,” Heidi continued. “He’s the type of dwarf who helps a frog across the pond when there are no lily pads. He would give you his last piece of crust if you were both starving. He’s an inspiration to us all and I hope we can find a way to wake him.”

  Heidi’s fingertips brushed against the glass coffin as she gazed wistfully at the dwarf inside. A satyr emerged from the crowd and placed a loving arm around her. She kissed her fingers and touched the glass one more time before allowing herself to be led away. I noticed the tears streaming down her cheeks as she passed by.

  Another woman waddled over to the coffin and placed both hands on the side, close to where his head rested. She was too short to reach any higher.

  “That’s Trixie,” Millie said in
a hushed tone. “Freddie’s sister.”

  Trixie said nothing as she observed her brother. There were no tears. Unlike Heidi, Trixie did not seem like much of a hugger. Not that there was anything wrong with that. Plenty of lovely people weren’t inclined to give hugs. My grandmother had been one of them.

  Sheriff Hugo moved closer to the coffin and turned to address the crowd. “We’re doing everything we can to get to the bottom of this sad situation. If anyone has information regarding Freddie, please don’t hesitate to come by the office. Even if you don’t think it’s relevant. If you have something to say, we want to hear it.”

  Well, that was more proactive than his usual lazy approach to law enforcement. Maybe the golf course was closed for repairs.

  A few more people spoke, mainly co-workers from the bank where Freddie worked. I saw Heidi and the satyr heading back through the forest, so I slipped away from the vigil for a quick word.

  “Heidi?”

  She turned to face me, her eyes pink and puffy. “Yes?”

  “You don’t know me, but my name is Emma Hart.”

  “The new witch,” the satyr said. “I’m Paul.” He offered his hand and I shook it.

  “You said such nice things about Freddie,” I said. “It makes me sad that I haven’t had the chance to get to know him yet.”

  “When he wakes up,” she said, “you will.” Her voice radiated confidence. She either truly believed he would awaken or managed to delude herself into believing it.

  “I thought maybe Freddie was your boyfriend,” I said. “The way you spoke about him…” My gaze flickered from Heidi to Paul.

  “Oh no,” Heidi said with a nervous laugh. “Freddie and I are good friends. Paul is my boyfriend.”

  “Yes, I realize that now. How long have you two been together?” I asked.

  They smiled at each other. “It was a year last week,” Paul said. “We met at the country club.”

  “On the golf course?” I asked.

  They looked at each other and laughed.

  “No,” Paul said. “We both work there. Heidi runs the aquatic center and I’m a trainer.”