by K. J. Emrick
Together, they made a smiley face.
How in the world…?
“Something wrong?” Darla was at their table now, looking oddly at Addie holding that glass. “Did you want more juice, Addie? You seemed so worn out when you came in.”
Addie ignored the question for one of her own. “Did you know about this?” She pointed to the bottom of the glass.
Darla leaned in to look. “Huh. How do you suppose that got there?”
“It’s a smiley face,” Addie pointed out.
Kiera lifted an eyebrow, leaning over to look at the marks herself.
Willow bent her head down almost to the table so she could see it, too. “Heh. Someone wants you to smile, Addie.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Darla said, taking the glass away and stacking it into her hands with the other empty breakfast plates. “It just looks like random scratches to me. I’ll throw this one away. You want anything else?”
Addie eyed that glass. Those scratches weren’t random. Someone had put them there on purpose. Did they know the glass would come to her when they did it? How could they?
Odd. No, actually, that didn’t begin to cover it. She couldn’t remember anyone ever damaging anything in the café before. Everyone in town loved this place. All of her customers were always respectful, even the few who complained that their coffee wasn’t hot enough or their burgers were burnt.
Who would put a smiley face on her glass like this?
For a moment she thought about the supply room in the back, and the sticking door. It was like someone was playing pranks, doing petty little things to get her attention without letting her in on the punchline. She never really cared for practical jokes. She wasn’t in the mood for them now, either.
Darla was gone when Addie looked up. Something weird was going on here but she didn’t have the time, or the energy to sort it out now.
“Oh no,” Willow said abruptly, breaking into Addie’s wandering thoughts. “Don’t look now, but the law has arrived.”
At the front door of the café stood Herman Bledsoe. He was in his constable shirt, the little badge pinned in place, his hat in his hands once again. His head swiveled around the room until he saw them sitting there. When he did, he raised his hat in greeting, and threaded his way between tables to get to them.
“Is it too late to duck under the table?” Willow muttered.
“Be nice,” Kiera advised her sister. “He is still one of our neighbors.”
Willow rolled her eyes, but kept her comment to herself.
“Hello,” Herman said, bobbing his head to each of them in turn, finally settling his gaze on Kiera. “I was wondering where the three of you might’ve gotten to.”
“Were you looking for us?” Kiera asked him.
His oversized eyes gaped at her. “Of course I was looking for you. There was a…” He looked all around them, then folded his long scarecrow body down at the side of the table and lowered his voice to a whisper. “There was a murder.”
He was trying not to draw attention to himself, and he was failing miserably.
Addie finished the last of her fries and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Herman,” she said, “we’ve been a little busy. The murder is being taken care of by the police.”
“And by us,” Willow added.
“Well, right.” Addie shrugged. “We and the police are taking care of it.”
He stared at them like they weren’t hearing him. “But… I’m the constable. Doesn’t that mean anything?”
“Yes,” Willow told him. “It means that you do as you’re told.”
“Willow,” Addie started to say.
Her sister ignored her. “It means, that you get to wear that pretty little badge and hand out parking tickets to the tourists.”
“Sister,” Kiera admonished her.
“It also means that you notify me and my sisters about everything that’s going on in this town, and then you go home and have a beer and watch reruns of old baseball games when your day is over. You get it, Constable Herman Bledsoe? You. Go. Home.”
His lip was quivering now, and his eyes were positively buggy and where his hands gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles were white. For the life of her, Addie thought for sure the man was going to cry.
Then he stood up like a shot, and slapped the edge of the table with his palm. “I’m the constable! Me. Me, me, me!”
When he turned away his gangly limbs caught the edge of Addie’s plate and the remainder of her burger—bread and lettuce and meat—went flying across the floor. The plate followed with a clatter.
Every eye in the room watched him leaving.
“Saints preserve us,” Willow swore. “Overly dramatic much?”
Addie went and picked up the mess of her leftover food and brought that back to the table with the plate. She was so angry at her sister right now that she could scream. She probably would have, too, if everyone in the room wasn’t already staring at them. “Willow. You can’t treat people that way.”
“Oh, don’t give me that.” Willow leaned an arm over the back of her chair and crossed her legs, contempt dripping from her voice. “That man is a buffoon. He’s a stuffed shirt, and there’s barely even enough of him to do that! He needs to learn his place.”
“His place,” Kiera told her, “is a resident of Shadow Lake. He deserves the same respect as everyone else here.”
“He’s a Typic with a badge and no real purpose in life. The town Selectmen giving him this job is the best thing that’s ever happened to him, and if I had to guess I’d say it’s the only good thing that will ever happen to him. He needs to know that we’re the real protectors of the town. I was just helping him remember that.”
Addie knew there was a little bit of truth to that, but again it was the way her sister chose to say it that mattered. A little tact would go a long way. If they showed him a little respect, Herman would probably do whatever they asked him to. She was trying to think of a way to say that, a way that Willow would understand, when Kiera did it for her.
“If you make someone your friend, they will stay with you through both good times and bad.” She said it with the calm authority that she usually reserved for leading them around the Family Circle. “However, when you make someone your enemy, they’ll fight you every step of the way.”
“For the love of Padraig,” Willow said. “I’m pretty sure I could handle that scarecrow if he ever tried to make himself an enemy of the Kilorian Sisters.”
“That wasn’t the point,” Addie told her.
“Whatever. If you’re done, maybe we can get back to solving this little murder mystery before anyone else dies?”
There was no help for it. Willow wasn’t going to listen, and she was right about one thing. They had a murder to solve. Two murders, in fact. Three, if they counted the death of Christine’s aunt.
A motive was what they were lacking. Not for Eugene’s murder. Christine wanted him dead, now he was dead. Or, flip it around, and Dahlia wanted him dead because it meant a payday for her. There were lots of reasons why Eugene might have been killed.
What about Danny’s murder? If Eugene killed Danny, what was his motive?
Somehow, Addie knew the motive for the first murder was the key. Knowing what happened to Danny would tell them what happened to Eugene. It was all connected.
Somehow.
“What we need,” she said, “is to talk to not-Eileen. It all starts with Danny’s murder, and she’s the only one who might know why he died.”
“Except for the killer,” Willow pointed out.
Addie was still mad at her sister for the way she had treated Herman, but once again she was right. “Now we just need to find out who the killer is.”
“And you think to do that, we need to know why Eugene killed Danny?”
“Yes. I do. So we’re going to the police station in Birch Hollow?” Addie said, not really making it a question.
“I guess so,” Willow said, throwing her hands
up in the air before pushing out her chair. “Let’s go follow Addie’s instincts. Like always.”
“Sister Willow,” Kiera told her, “I am the head of this coven. I decide what actions we take in regards to protecting our town. I believe that what Addie is saying make sense. We must know the answers to these questions.”
Willow frowned. “We could just leave this for the police to investigate,” she tried suggesting again. “There’s no magic involved here. We’ve done way more for the police than we needed to. It is their job after all.”
“It is ours as well,” Kiera insisted. “We are the ones who protect the Well of Essence below Stonecrest. We protect the people who live in this town.”
“We protect Shadow Lake,” Addie and Willow echoed together. It was the truth that they lived by.
Kiera had used a little bit of magic to dampen the sound of their voices, the same precaution they always took, making sure that no one more than two steps away from the table could hear them. Even so, from across the room, Addie saw Darla turn to look right at them.
Like she could hear them.
Then she was gone back into the kitchen to take care of more orders for the customers.
Something was going on with her. Addie promised herself again that she would find some time for the two of them to talk. It was what friends did.
“Huh,” she said out loud.
“What?” Willow asked her.
“Did Darla’s hair seem darker to you?”
Her sister shrugged. “So she dyes her hair. So what? Come on. I think we’ve left Doyle and Domovyk outside long enough, don’t you? I don’t want them trying to kill each other because we’re gone too long.”
They went out through the back, where they had parked her Jeep, and as they passed through the kitchen Darla waved to her like nothing was wrong.
Addie waved back, more convinced than ever that something wasn’t right.
One thing at a time, she told herself. Darla was a grown woman and she could take care of herself, at least for now.
Behind the café there were several cars parked in the lot around her Jeep. There was no one back here right now. All the customers were inside. There was no one here to see the two cats finishing off food scraps from bowls that the sisters had put out for them earlier.
The two of them were sitting side by side, casting furtive glances at the food scraps the other was gobbling up, making sure there wasn’t more for the other guy.
“Well,” Willow said, bending down to stroke both cats at the same time. “Glad to see you two are getting along. At least when there’s food involved.”
“Mmph,” Doyle said, chewing down some scrambled eggs. “He’ff noff sucha bad bloke.”
“Yes,” Domovyk said in that deeply accented voice, already finished with his bowl and brushing his paw across his lips. “Your cat eats with mouth open, but makes good jokes.”
Willow was most definitely surprised to hear that. “Doyle told you a joke?”
“More than one, yes,” the black tomcat said. “He tells me joke about man in Irish pub ordering three pints of beer. Is very funny. I can tell you, if you like?”
“Uh, let’s leave that one for later, Dom,” she interrupted him. They’d all heard that punchline before.
The cat looked up at her. “Dom? You call me… Dom?”
Willow scratched his ears again. “It’s short for Domovyk. I won’t do it if you don’t like it.”
But Domovyk blinked at her. His tail twitched. “No. I like this. You may call me… Dom.”
Addie couldn’t help but smile as she watched the two of them. Whatever that cat’s real reasons might have been for coming to their front door, it looked like her sister may have found herself a new friend.
Doyle wound his way around Addie’s feet until she bent down to pick him up and cradle him in her arms. “Are you jealous, Old Man? You know we still love you.”
“I’m not jealous,” Doyle sniffed. “I guess having another cat around won’t be that bad. After all, he did laugh at my jokes.”
“Now that does make him a certain kind of special,” she teased.
“What? You like my jokes.”
“Of course I do,” she said, managing to keep a straight face. “Now, listen. We’re going up to Birch Hollow to do some more investigating. You and Domovyk—Dom, I mean—can come with us if you want, but you’ll have to stay in the car and stay silent. No talking.”
“Are you implying that I can’t keep my big gob shut?”
“I would never imply any such thing,” she said with mock sincerity.
“I would,” Willow offered.
Doyle narrowed his eyes at her. “Imeacht go fánach ort féin is ar do chnapán miúlach.”
Willow put a hand to her heart, pretending to be dying, complete with gagging sound effects. Then she laughed. “Doyle, leave the curses to us witches, okay?”
“What is it he said to you?” Dom asked.
“Something about me being a hunchback.”
One of Dom’s ears flicked. “This is not nice thing to say to those who take care of you.”
“Oh, don’t worry. Doyle’s bark is worse than his bite.”
“Barking cat,” Dom laughed. “Now that is funny!”
Willow ruffled the fur around Dom’s neck. “You and me. We’re going to get along just fine.”
Doyle hummed deep in his chest, flicking his ear at both of them. “Maybe I’ll be taking it back, then, the thing I said about him being an okay bloke.”
“Play nice,” Addie reminded him. “So are you two coming with us or should we drop you off at Stonecrest first?”
“I’m not a babysitter,” Doyle told her.
“No, but you are the king of our castle, right? So we’re trusting you to watch over our house and show Dom the ins and outs of life with the Kilorian sisters. I can’t think of anyone better for the job. You can keep him safe until you two get to Stonecrest, too.”
His ears perked up. Addie had pushed all the right buttons, appealing to Doyle’s pride. “Well, when you put it that way.” Leaping out of her arms, he landed gracefully on the ground. “Come on then, Dom. This way to my castle.”
When the two of them were out of sight around the corner of the building, Willow let out the laughter she’d been holding back. “His castle?”
“Let him have this one,” Addie said. “We have more important things to do right now.”
“Right,” Willow said slowly, “like helping your Typic boyfriend do his job. Fine. We’ll go talk to the woman in her jail cell. Let’s see what not-Eileen has to say for herself.”
Chapter 12
Birch Hollow was one of the bigger towns in this corner of the state. It was practically a small city, with houses and business crowded together on a maze of streets connected by traffic lights and stop signs. There was a timber processing plant at the far end of the town, and industry like that attracted both money and people.
It was a nice place, Addie supposed, just a bit too much for her. She preferred the slow pace of her hometown. She liked the people there and the lifestyle, and she liked being their protector. She was just a country girl at heart.
“Do you know where the police station is?” Willow asked from the backseat.
Addie nodded, putting on her signal light for a right turn. “Lucian gave me directions. We could always just follow the arrows, though.”
She pointed at the blue “POLICE” signs pointing the way down this one side street to a two-story brick building with a round overhang over the entryway. The town seal was displayed proudly on the wall outside next to the door for everyone to see. Black and gold patrol cars were parked in a side lot. A flagpole outside flew the American flag high above everything.
“Must be the place,” Willow said.
“You think?” Addie asked her, sharing a smile with her sister in the rearview mirror.
It was a short lived moment. Willow dropped her eyes away and slumped back into the seat, fold
ing her arms. The divide between them was growing, and Addie wished she knew what to do to fix it. She could only do so much, though. Willow had to meet her half way.
She loved her little sister. She missed being best friends with her.
A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she parked the car.
Kiera reached over and put her hand on Addie’s. “Don’t worry. Things always seem darkest before the dawn.”
“Yup,” Willow agreed, “or when you’re wearing blinders.”
She opened the back door and was out of the Jeep before her sisters could say anything more about it. Addie took a moment, and reminded herself that no matter what, the three of them were still sisters. They would always be family. Willow was here, even if she didn’t want to be.
Inside the police department, they found a lobby with a row of uncomfortable looking plastic chairs and corkboards full of faded public service announcements. There was a sliding glass window and a little metal bell on a shelf for people to ring for service. Willow rang it.
When the young female officer came to see what they wanted, they only had to say that Lucian was waiting for them, and then they were in.
A long hallway brought them to another hallway, which brought them to a metal door that required a specially shaped key to open. Every eye in the place turned their way as they went, these three very different women following their police escort through the building. Addie was willing to bet this wasn’t something they saw every day. They might not know they were witches, but they could tell there was definitely something different about them, even if they weren’t wearing black dresses and pointy hats. Or carrying broomsticks. There was still a power emanating from them that could be felt, if not seen.
As the officer opened the door Addie found they were in the holding area for prisoners. There were four cells—Addie thought that was the right term—with metal bars on the front and cinderblock walls on the other three sides. There were no windows in any of them and barely enough room for a wooden bench. Three of them were empty.
In the fourth one sat not-Eileen, her head hung low and her hands folded tightly in her lap. She had been changed into an orange jumpsuit that was absolutely the most hideous thing that Addie had ever seen anyone wearing.