Magic & Malice

by Annabel Chase

  “Are you sure this is it?” I asked the sheriff, as we stood on the doorstep. The shutters were in desperate need of a new coat of paint and the garden was neglected to the point where I couldn’t discern the weeds from the flowers. And yet Lacey had seemed so polished at the birthday party. The pains she took with her appearance didn’t seem to extend to the appearance of her home.

  Lacey jerked the door open. Her hair was pulled up in a messy bun and she looked far more haggard than her appearance at the party. Apparently, she’d made an effort for her grandmother’s birthday.

  “Sheriff?” Lacey’s gaze shifted to me. “You always take your dates on official business?”

  “I’m covering Hattie’s story for the paper,” I said. “The sheriff is kind enough to let me accompany him.”

  “I’ll bet.” Lacey stood aside and ushered us inside. “I don’t suppose this is good news.” She headed into the kitchen of the open-plan first floor.

  “Afraid not,” the sheriff said. “The autopsy report shows that your grandmother suffered a heart attack.”

  Lacey squinted. “Isn’t that what we thought?”

  “If it had been the result of natural causes, then yes,” the sheriff replied. “Unfortunately, the attack appears to have been brought on by a potion in her system. Based on the evidence, we believe that the potion was administered via Hattie’s glass of fizzlewick mead.”

  Lacey balked. “Great Bel! Not the mead. How is that even possible? No one was allowed to touch it.”

  “That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Sheriff Nash said. “Any information you can share would be helpful.”

  Lacey moved like a zombie to stand behind the kitchen counter. She seemed to be in shock. “Grandmother was really murdered?”

  “Apparently so,” the sheriff said.

  Lacey grabbed a sponge and wiped down one end of the counter. I could tell she was operating on autopilot. “The potion in the mead caused her heart attack?”

  “That’s right.” I noticed that the sheriff didn’t share the type of potion, nor did Lacey ask. “It caused her heart to work overtime, which resulted in her death. A woman Hattie’s age couldn’t tolerate it.”

  Lacey began emptying debris from the lunchboxes on the counter. “Are you sure it wasn’t a potion she was taking herself? You should ask Sampson or Mrs. Ballywick.”

  “I already have,” the sheriff said. “It wasn’t one of her usual supplements and there was no sign of it in the house.”

  Lacey scrubbed the piping on the interior of the lunchbox. “I hate seeing the remnants of all their good snacks,” she said absently. “Makes my diet that much harder.”

  “How long have you been trying to lose weight?” I asked.

  She offered a begrudging smile. “It seems like I’ve been trying to move the same ten pounds for the past year. The kids’ snacks don’t help. I can’t resist them.”

  “I didn’t even realize you had kids until now,” I said. “Why weren’t they at the party?”

  “Grandmother doesn’t…didn’t like children to be present at parties,” Lacey said. “She said they took the attention away from her. Avonne has children, too. They were with a nanny.”

  “How old are your children?” Judging from the lunchboxes, they were still fairly young.

  “My daughter is twelve and my son is ten,” she replied. “They spent the weekend with their father since he wasn’t invited to the party either.” She sighed. “At least I was able to spend the night before the party with Grandmother, especially in light of the outcome. It was nice to be just the two of us for a change. Every event is always such a gathering with my family. It’s exhausting at times, all the pretending to get along.” She blew a raspberry.

  “You and the father of your kids…You’re not together anymore?” the sheriff asked.

  She shook her head and a few dark tendrils fell loose. “Weston and I were doomed from the start. Grandmother never approved of our relationship. She made it difficult for us to stay together, always making a fuss over him being a shifter. Adds a lot of stress to a marriage, when the family…well, when a key family member disapproves.”

  “Hattie did that?” I asked. I couldn’t imagine someone trying to exert so much control…Wait a hot minute. Of course I could—and her name was Hyacinth Rose-Muldoon.

  Lacey moved on from the lunchboxes to the dirty dishes in the sink. “After our parents died, Grandmother became more tyrannical about our choices. I’m the oldest so, naturally, I bore the brunt of her demands.”

  “I hate to ask an intrusive question….” I began.

  “But hey, you’re a journalist, right?” Lacey managed a smile. “My parents died in a yachting accident years ago.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I lost my parents, too. I know it’s hard.”

  “It was a long time ago.” She paused for a thoughtful moment. “Please excuse my manners. Can I offer you anything? Granola bar? Ale?”

  “We’re good, thanks,” the sheriff said.

  Lacey dropped the dirty dishes into what looked like a hole in the countertop. I leaned forward for a better view. “What are you doing?”

  She looked at me. “Loading the dishwasher. What do you think?”

  “You’re dropping them into a hole.”

  The sheriff chuckled. “You’ve never seen one like that, Rose? We need to get you out of the house more often.”

  “They’re designed by elves,” Lacey explained. “You drop in your dirty dishes and they come out the end completely clean.” She walked to the end of the counter and patted the side that I couldn’t see. “There’s also a spell for stacking imbued in the design as well, so everything piles up or lines up as needed.”

  “How about that?” I asked, amazed.

  “Elves, nymphs, morgens… all other non-users of magic have to find a way to be inventive,” Lacey said. She smiled at the sheriff. “You know what I mean, don’t you?”

  He inclined his head. “I certainly do.”

  “Well, I’ve lived most of my life without magic,” I said, “so that’s still how I tend to function. I’m learning, though.”

  Lacey rested her elbows on the countertop. “If I had magic, life would be so much easier.”

  “Everyone says that, but I don’t know that it’s true,” I said.

  “Good point,” Lacey said. “At least I would’ve been higher in the social hierarchy. Magic users are always more revered.”

  “That’s definitely not true,” I said. “I’ve seen some of the pixies and fairies in this town. Revered is not the word I’d use.”

  “Then again, Grandmother hated that Weston wasn’t a ‘better’ species, so there’s always a reason to look down on someone else. She considered shifters to be nothing more than dirty animals.” She glanced at the sheriff. “No offense, Sheriff Nash. I obviously don’t feel that way or I wouldn’t have married one.”

  Although the sheriff didn’t react, I knew the sentiment bothered him. How could it not?

  “Morgens aren’t that common in this area, are they?” I asked. I didn’t know much about them and I’d learned a lot about different species since my arrival in Starry Hollow.

  “No, not at all. It’s one of the main reasons Grandmother felt so strongly about preserving the bloodline, to the extent possible, since morgens can only be female. She wanted Fitz to marry a morgen and have a bunch of daughters. With Fitz being a water nymph, the girls would definitely be morgens.”

  I thought of Aunt Hyacinth’s determination to marry Florian off to a witch. “Your grandmother must have objected before your wedding. Why be so difficult once you’d gone through with it? Why not accept it?”

  “Because she was stubborn and racist. She threatened to write me out of the will.” Lacey splayed her hands on the countertop. “I didn’t believe her. Like I said, I was the eldest. I thought I was untouchable.” She laughed bitterly. “Grandmother sure showed me. Now I’m a single mother with very little money and ten extra pou
nds that keep the men away.”

  I wasn’t convinced the ten extra pounds were the problem, but I kept my mouth shut.

  “You said you had an evening alone with Hattie the night before the party,” the sheriff began. “What did the two of you do?”

  Lacey hugged herself and smiled. “We played a card game and then I listened while she told some of her favorite childhood stories. We each had a glass of Goddess Bounty before bed. I liked her best in these quiet moments. She didn’t talk down to me or boss me around. I got to see her softer side one last time.”

  “Sounds like a blessing,” I said.

  “Where did you sleep that night?” the sheriff asked.

  “In the Sunflower Suite,” Lacey said. “It was my room at the estate when I was younger. So bright and cheerful.” Her voice grew wistful. “I miss it there.”

  “Did you see her at breakfast?” I asked.

  “No, Avonne had breakfast alone with her while I went to yoga with Iris Sandstone,” Lacey said. “You should be able to confirm that easily enough, given that she’s the High Priestess of your coven.” She gave me a pointed look. “I’ve been skipping breakfast as part of my diet plan. Drinking my meal replacement potion instead. It’s supposed to keep me feeling full for hours afterward.”

  “Could I have the name of that potion?” the sheriff asked.

  Lacey tapped her fingernails on the countertop. “I’ll have to check. I’ve been through so many diet products recently. It’s hard to keep track.”

  “You must’ve taken some this morning,” the sheriff said. “Where do you keep the bottle?”

  “In the bathroom,” she said. “I drink it right before I brush my teeth.”

  The sheriff offered a patient smile. “I can wait right here while you get it. I’m not in a hurry.”

  Lacey’s eyes rounded. “Oh. Okay. I’ll look now.” I couldn’t tell whether she was stalling or just dim.

  The moment Lacey left the room, the sheriff pinched my bottom. “Hey!” I said, swatting his hand away. “We’re here on professional business.”

  He grinned. “I know, but you were sticking it out at just the right angle. I couldn’t resist.”

  “I wasn’t sticking out my butt,” I said, indignant. “That’s weird.”

  He bumped me with his hip. “You’re weird, so it fits.”

  Lacey returned with a deep blue bottle in her hand and I immediately straightened. “Here it is. Not sure how effective it is since I haven’t been taking it very long.” The label read—Muffin Top Pop.

  “About how long would you say?” the sheriff asked.

  She looked thoughtful. “This one? Probably four days. I’m not sure why you need it, though. There’s no way Grandmother was taking any diet potions. She was as thin as a string bean under those billowy kaftans.”

  “Would you mind if I took this bottle?” the sheriff asked. “You have more, right?”

  Lacey seemed put out. “I guess so. They’re not cheap, though.”

  The sheriff plucked the bottle from her hand. “Thanks, I appreciate it. One last question. Have you ever been in the mead cellar?” the sheriff asked.

  Lacey grimaced. “Gods, no. Grandmother was always very territorial about it. Fitz lives down there and I think he’s only managed one peek in there.”

  “Fitz? That’s your brother?” the sheriff asked.

  “Yes, he lives on the lower level of the estate,” Lacey said. “He’s the grandson and heir, you know. He gets to do what he wants, unlike me.”

  “Sounds familiar, doesn’t it, Rose?” the sheriff asked.

  “If Florian lived next to a mead cellar, I guarantee you that the entire stock would be gone by now,” I said.

  Lacey pulled the pins out of her messy bun and her hair fell loose down her shoulders. “It wouldn’t surprise me if the mead cellar is empty the next time I go over to the estate. Fitz has expensive taste and no scruples. He wouldn’t bother to wait for the reading of the will.”

  “Expensive taste and no scruples, huh?” Sheriff Nash asked. “Sounds like the kind of guy I should be talking to. We appreciate your time, Lacey. I’ll be in touch.”

  She gave a defeated wave. “If you know any single shifters, Sheriff Nash, I’m not picky.”

  “Maybe that’s your problem,” I said.

  Lacey glared at me. “You try being a single mother on a budget while the rest of your family lives in luxury. It isn’t easy.”

  Sheriff Nash opened his mouth to speak and I silenced him with a look. I didn’t need him to defend me.

  “Maybe you’re back in the will because you split up with Weston,” I said. “That would help your situation.”

  Lacey smiled. “I’ve been trying not to get my hopes up. Grandmother never said whether she wrote me back in. That was the hope, but I didn’t dare ask. She was spiteful enough to write me out again, just for questioning it.”

  “She sounds like she was a delightful woman,” I said. As delightful as a chainsaw across the back of my legs.

  Lacey’s expression appeared pained. “I know it seems strange in light of everything I said, but she’ll be sorely missed.”

  I gave her arm a squeeze. “That’s how it always is with family, Lacey.”

  The sheriff and I left Lacey’s house and headed to dinner.

  “Do you know Weston?” I asked.

  “No, he’s not a werewolf,” the sheriff said. “Different kind of shifter.”

  I bit my lip. “Do you think she was flirting with you?” I moved my index finger and thumb an inch apart. “Maybe a smidge?”

  “If she were, then she was only doing it because she doesn’t want to be considered a suspect. Happens a lot.”

  “Because she’s guilty?”

  “I don’t know that yet. We’ve got the potion.” He patted his pocket. “We’ve also got her unsupervised access to the house the night before, and her resentment over Weston.”

  Despite all that, Lacey didn’t seem guilty. “I don’t know. If she were written back into the will….”

  “Then all the more reason to kill her now,” the sheriff interjected. “She’d get her revenge and her money at the same time.”

  “She’s pretty, but her attitude is kind of sour. That’s a turn-off.” I looked at him for confirmation. “Right?”

  The sheriff reached for my hand. “I like this side of you, Rose. I should tell folks we’re courting more often.”

  “If she was flirting, then it was rude,” I said. “You’d made it clear that we were a couple.”

  “She desires male attention,” the sheriff said. “That much was clear.”

  “I wonder if she’ll get back together with Weston now that Hattie is out of the picture.” Although Weston sounded as bad as Wyatt with the philandering streak. Maybe Lacey didn’t want him back.

  “If she feels desperate enough, she might,” the sheriff said. “I bet Hattie left her high and dry in that will, even though Lacey divorced him. And I’ll check with Iris Sandstone about the yoga, but I believe her. Even if she’s guilty, she could’ve slipped the potion into that mead the night before. No one would be the wiser.”

  “We should pay a visit to Fitz,” I said. “He kept insisting that her age was the culprit, like he needed to convince everyone.”

  “You’re reading my mind, Rose,” he said. “That guy has motive and opportunity written all over him.” He opened the passenger door for me. “Come to think of it, you should go see Fitz.”

  I stared at him. “I just said that.”

  “You said ‘we.’ I think you should go on your own,” he said. “A guy like that is much more likely to blather on and reveal precious secrets if he thinks he has a chance with you.”

  I arched an eyebrow. “Is that so? I don’t think I’ve heard many of your secrets, Sheriff Nash.”

  “That’s because I’m an open book, Rose.” He spread his arms wide. “What you see is what you get.”

  That was the truth. I took the opportunity to ru
n my fingers through his thick hair. It felt nice.

  The sheriff studied me closely. “Rose, you got something on your mind?”

  I inhaled deeply. “I’ve been thinking,” I began.

  He took a few steps backward. “Whoa. Should I be concerned?”

  “Not if you’re interested in the next step in our relationship.”

  He broke into a broad grin. “Next step, huh? And what does that entail?”

  “I’d rather show you than tell you,” I replied.

  He slipped an arm around my waist. “I’m liking this conversation more and more, Rose. Keep talking.”

  “I’ve been inspired by Marley’s upcoming sleepover,” I said, remembering my conversation with Florian.

  He frowned. “A kid’s birthday party? Okay, now my mind is wandering in a less interesting direction.”

  I waved my hands. “No, no. Stay on track. Your instincts were right.”

  He wiped his forehead. “Phew. Had me worried there for a nanosecond.”

  “Florian suggested that it’s time to progress. Maybe the weekend after Marley’s party, you could come over for dinner and then…stay?”

  The werewolf stroked his chin. “I’m willing to overlook the fact that you have oddly intimate conversations with your male cousin, but only because the offer you’ve made is making me a little dizzy.”

  I peered at him. “Good dizzy?”

  He pulled me against his chest and kissed me hard. “The best kind of dizzy.”

  Chapter Five

  I smoothed the frizz from my hair and adjusted the hem of my skirt before ringing the bell at the Rollins Manor. I didn’t want to go too far with the sheriff’s suggestion, but I agreed that Fitz seemed like the kind of guy I could weasel information out of with a tight blouse and a few well-chosen compliments. I wouldn’t even need to ply him with alcohol.

  Like Florian, Fitz had his own entrance to his bachelor pad on the lower level of the house, which made it easy for his conquests to come and go sight unseen. I rang the bell and waited, knowing that Sampson wouldn’t be trekking to this side of the house to answer Fitz’s door. He’d likely been forbidden from doing so.