Her words came back to me.
The doctors tried just about everything. God, I’d have done anything to save him.
“Were you looking for Zoey to heal your husband, somehow?”
Stef nodded. “Bone marrow. But Zoey couldn’t donate from prison, could she? Adam died not long after, and all I could think about was how a sweet, beautiful baby could end up in prison for attempted murder. I snooped around a little and quickly found out how: Dorothy. The evil, narcissistic Dorothy. That’s how.”
Nick breathed heavily as he approached, his hand on his gun. “Ladies,” he said, throwing me a look.
Faint sirens sounded in the distance.
I said, “Stef was just telling us why she poisoned Dorothy.”
Stef’s voice hardened. “She needed to know how it felt to have her life slip away with no way to stop it until death finally came. I only regret that I wasn’t there to see her die, but I know one thing for certain. She didn’t suffer nearly enough for what she did to Adam, or for what she had taken from me.”
“And Leyna?” I asked.
Her eyes hardened. “What about her?”
“Did you kill her?” I asked.
She lifted her eyebrows. Coldly, she said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“What happened?” I asked. “Did you bump into her in the hallway of Divinitea?” I looked at Glinda. “If Stef killed her, it’s because Leyna read her energy somehow. She had just read Dorothy two days before and warned her she was being poisoned. It makes sense that she would have sensed that Stef was the one responsible and said something.”
“I can see it,” Glinda said. “And Stef probably freaked out and panicked about her plan to poison Dorothy being uncovered. She knew Dorothy had been having issues with Divinitea, so framing her for the crime was a breeze. We know that she likes to frame people—she just told us she was trying to pin your poisoning on Sylar.”
Stef’s face had turned to stone, but she didn’t deny any of our theory.
“Speaking of pins,” I said. “She probably stole the hairpin out of Leyna’s hair at that point to plant on Dorothy.”
Glinda nodded. “She then started the fire in the closet, which also gave her time to get back to the table before it truly took hold.”
“You two think you’re so smart,” Stef said.
“Are we wrong?” I asked. “I don’t hear any denials.”
She said, “I’m done talking to you.”
Glinda, I noticed, was standing in cop mode, as I called it. One leg planted in front of the other, knees slightly bent, her hands resting lightly on her hips.
“What I can’t quite figure out,” Glinda said, “is how did you know where to find Dorothy to plant the pin?”
Stef’s eyes had gone cold as ice, and I nearly shivered.
I said, “I bet she looked around for Dorothy for a while and couldn’t find her. But then she probably remembered the stories about Dorothy’s penchant for climbing trees behind Third Eye.”
Though Glinda and I were just speculating, I felt the hairs on my neck rise. My witchy instincts were rarely wrong. If we hadn’t known Dorothy was unable to slip past the protection spell, she might well have been arrested and convicted. It made me queasy thinking that Stef could very easily have gotten away with this crime.
And I couldn’t help but wish to turn back time. Because Stef wouldn’t have been in the tearoom that day if not for a favor to Vince. If she hadn’t been there, she wouldn’t have crossed paths with Leyna, and Leyna might still be alive today.
If.
But Leyna hadn’t been the only one to fall across Stef’s murderous path. “And Feif?” I asked her. “I have the feeling you know where we can find him.”
Psychics give me the willies—I don’t want anyone reading my mind.
She gave an exaggerated shrug. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“We know he was at your house. You said it yourself—I saw his tea cup there.”
“Slip of the tongue,” she said stiffly.
Nick said to me. “I’ll get a warrant. We’ll find him. For now, I can take her in on the poisonings.”
I closed my eyes against the knowledge that Feif had probably been in Stef’s house when I’d been there on Monday.
Stef had acted so cool, so calm when talking to me, while he’d likely lain dead somewhere nearby.
Her words were echoing in my head. She didn’t suffer nearly enough for what she did to Adam, or for what she had taken from me.
It struck me suddenly that Stef hadn’t cared about how Zoey had been raised or the physical and mental abuse she’d endured at Dorothy’s hands. Stef had only cared that Zoey hadn’t been available to save Adam’s life. Zoey had been nothing to her but a means to an end.
And as Nick read Stef her rights, I wondered if she had any idea that she was more like Dorothy than she could ever possibly imagine.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Evan wore a simple black tux, tailored to an inch of its life, as he stood under a pink rose-covered arbor on a beautiful June afternoon. His blue eyes glistened as he said, “And do you, Nick, take Darcy to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, to provide copious amounts of peppermint patties, coffee, and devil’s food cupcakes, to love and to cherish, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?”
“I do.”
Nick’s warm gaze held mine, promising without words so much more than what had been spoken aloud. I couldn’t have wiped the smile off my face if I tried.
Evan grinned. “It is my utmost honor to now declare you husband and wife. Nick, you may kiss your bride.”
Archie let out a catcall, and everyone in attendance hooted as Nick lifted my veil and kissed me.
I wrapped my arms around him as he dipped me low. When we finally broke apart, I reached for Mimi’s hand. Her eyes were bright with tears as she joined us in a group hug. I didn’t think I could be any happier at this moment, surrounded by those who loved us most.
Mimi, Mom, Harper. Ve, Starla. Cherise, Terry, Archie, Evan. Godfrey, Pepe, and Mrs. P. Glinda, Vince, Marcus, Andreus.
Family.
Champagne flowed as Nick and I hugged and laughed and cried, sharing our joy. Our reception would start in an hour, but until then, we were going to enjoy every moment with the people who meant the most to us in this world.
“You look beautiful,” Vince said, giving me a peck on the cheek. “Nick’s a lucky guy.”
“I’m a lucky girl,” I said, watching Nick being sandwiched by Ve and my mother’s bear hug.
My mother glowed with happiness, floating around in a gauzy cream-colored satin sheath. I was beyond grateful she was here this afternoon, sharing this day with us.
“I’m glad you could make it,” I said to him.
“I wouldn’t have missed it.” He glanced around. “I heard this was where all the cool kids were hanging out today.”
“I don’t know about that.” I laughed, smiling as Higgins and Missy ran around the yard, the lace bows on their collars bouncing with each step. “We’re just one big family here. After all, it’s love that creates a family, not blood,” I said, echoing the thought I’d had at Harper’s birthday party. I held his gaze, making sure he understood what I was telling him.
He rocked on his heels. “Family, you say?”
My heart nearly broke at his hopeful smile. Finally, after all this time, he had found a loving, giving family. If not for what had happened to Dorothy, I wasn’t sure this day would’ve come.
Or maybe, just maybe, he’d found his way to us on his own.
I blinked back tears and couldn’t help wishing that Zoey had been able to escape the damage done by her mother.
Both mothers.
I let myself think of Stef for only a moment, locked away, just like her daughter. Feif’s body had been found in the trunk of Stef’s car, and with the discovery, she’d finally confessed to his—and Leyna’s—murder
s.
It turned out that Feif had approached Stef when she’d come out of the gym that fateful Monday morning, saying he wanted to talk about what had happened at Divinitea. She’d panicked, thinking he knew what she’d done to Leyna, that he’d read her mind, too. She’d invited him home, where they could talk privately … and she’d made him a fresh cup of coffee, because his tea had gone cold. The coffee had been laced with antifreeze.
“Darcy?” Vince put his hand on my arm. “You okay?”
Stef was locked away—and would be for life. She couldn’t hurt anyone anymore. Dorothy, either. “Yeah, I am.”
Archie started singing “Cell Block Tango” from Chicago. That crazy bird was lucky I loved him.
“Did I mention we’re one very loud, happy, albeit a tad strange family?” I asked.
He glanced at Archie. “The strange part is easy to spot.”
I laughed and gave Vince a hug. In his ear, I whispered, “Just so you know, I’m throwing the bouquet to Noelle tonight at the reception.”
“Joke’s on you,” he said. “Ve’s already told everyone not to stand in her way of that bouquet.”
I laughed. “No way.”
“Way,” he said, his eyes glinting with humor.
“Hey, Darcy?” Glinda asked, walking toward me with a concerned look on her face.
I asked, “Is something wrong?”
“You tell me. Is there a reason Starla is stalking me with her camera?”
I looked over Glinda’s shoulder and saw Starla giving me a big thumbs-up. I couldn’t help smiling. Apparently, Glinda could take a bad photo.
“What?” Glinda asked. “What’s going on?”
“Excuse me,” Nick said, stepping up beside me. “I need to borrow my lovely wife for a moment.”
“What’s this about?” I asked as Nick tugged my arm.
“You’ll see,” he said.
“Intrigue,” I said to Vince and Glinda.
Behind me, I heard Glinda saying, “Starla, come back here.”
“Seriously, though,” I said to Nick. “Where are we going?”
He didn’t say another word as he led me to his woodshop in the garage. He opened the door and flipped on a light. A sheet-draped object with a bow on its top sat in the middle of the cement floor.
“I made you a wedding gift. It’s more for us, really. Well, not for us, exactly …” He laughed. “You’ll see.”
“I thought you were working on cornhole boards?”
“I lied.”
“Nick Sawyer, lying is not the way to start a marriage.”
He laughed. “What was one more secret? You ready?”
“Since the minute I walked through the door.”
Smiling, he pulled the sheet free, revealing a beautiful maple cradle.
“Oh!” My hand shook as I reached out to touch the satiny wood, ran a finger over the Elder tree carved into its headboard. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
Nick put his hand on the small of my back. “It’s not as beautiful as you are. Or Mimi is. Or our daughter is going to be.”
I tried to imagine what our little girl was going to look like. Would she have my golden-blue eyes? Or Nick’s brown? I’d loved her from the moment I’d learned she existed, as shocking as that discovery had been. Nick and I had wanted children, but had long decided we’d wait until after the wedding to start trying. The fates had other plans.
I was pregnant.
I’d never been happier or more terrified in my whole life.
Because as soon as we’d found out, we’d also known that we couldn’t let anyone in on the secret. Not with the Renewal coming up and the danger involved with Dorothy’s quest to take over the Craft. If she had discovered I was pregnant, I hadn’t known what she would do to ensure that I wouldn’t have a little girl. I’d been determined that Dorothy would not harm my baby. No way, no how. And if that meant not talking about the pregnancy—not even allowing myself to think about the baby—until it was safe to do so, then that was a small price to pay. There were going to be no hints, no clues from Nick or me.
But we also couldn’t ignore the timing of the pregnancy and how the existence of my child, if the baby was a little girl, would change the course of Craft history. With how early along I was, an ultrasound wouldn’t have been able to determine the sex of the baby. So I’d found a doctor in Boston and had a genetic test done at ten weeks along. It was during that fateful Tuesday afternoon phone call a week and a half ago that I’d received the results of that blood work.
Nick and I were having a perfectly healthy baby girl.
“I’m so happy we don’t have to keep the news a secret anymore.” I set my hand on my stomach. I was twelve weeks along now, and not yet showing. I couldn’t wait for the day I was able to hold the baby in my arms.
Or drink as much coffee as I wanted.
I set the cradle to rocking, and something sparkled from a corner of the mattress. “What’s that?”
“What’s what?” Nick asked.
I reached into the cradle and lifted the glass object, holding it aloft in the palm of my hand. “A crystal cat,” I said, smiling as I picked up the scent of roses in the air.
“I don’t know where that came from,” he said, eyeing it suspiciously.
“It’s a baby gift from someone pretty special.”
“Who?”
“An old relative of mine.” I kept hold of the crystal cat and took his hand. “What do you think about naming the baby Hildie, with an ie?”
He wrinkled his nose.
I laughed. “I suppose we have some time to decide.”
“A little time,” he said. “But for now, I think it’s high time we celebrated.”
He twirled me, and the bottom of my dress swung out. I said, “I think I know a big party we could crash. Are you ready to dance all night long?”
Twirling me back toward him, he kissed me. “Maybe not all night, Mrs. Sawyer …”
* * *
Two hours later, music pulsated along the street from the goings-on over on the green. Melina “Missy” Sawyer stood at the gate, trying to see as much as she could from her vantage point. It was the first time in a long time that she’d thought about escaping the yard. She wanted to be closer to the action.
Mrs. P sat on the fence’s lower crossbar, her tail wrapped around a spindle. She sniffed loudly. “It’s all just so wonderful.”
“Oui,” Pepe said from his spot next to her. “A truly lovely day.”
“It almost makes me believe in love again,” Archie said with a dramatic sigh from his perch on the upper crossbar.
The cat sitting next to Missy abruptly turned and started back toward the house.
“Where are you going? They haven’t yet cut the cake,” Archie said. “You’re going to miss everything.”
The cat kept walking.
“Tilda,” he said.
Missy rolled her eyes. Tilda’s favorite pastime was to annoy Archie.
“Tilda,” he said again. “Mathildie, I’m speaking to you.”
The cat stopped walking and looked back at the group of them. “I don’t need to watch. I know how it all ends.”
“And how’s that, Miss Smarty-pants?” Archie asked.
Her whiskers twitched. “Have you had your beak so buried in Shakespeare that you’ve forgotten to read fairy tales? Happily ever after is how this ends, of course.” She flicked her tail and went up the steps.
Archie blew a raspberry at her back.
“I heard that,” she said, walking inside.
Pepe folded his small hands on his rounded belly. “Do any of you feel something stirring in the air? Another adventure for our crime-solvers, perhaps?”
It seemed to Missy there was no lack of crime in this little village, so something was bound to happen sooner or later. If she weren’t immortal, she’d have thought twice about living around here.
Mrs. P wiped her eyes with a tiny handkerchief. “I do so love their
adventures.”
“That’s not adventure stirring the air. It’s Higgins’s tail,” Archie said with disgust.
Higgins put his massive paws on the top of the fence and licked Archie’s face.
“Not the saliva! Oh! Stop. For the love of mankind! I just cleaned my feathers. Who invited this furry beast, anyway? I thought this was a private, familiar-only party. Does no one have a handy wipe?”
Missy walked down the fence line, keeping her eyes on the dance floor across the street, watching Nick and Mimi swirl around and around. Her eyes misted over, and her heart was full as Nick handed Mimi off to … Darcy—and they started laughing as the music changed over to an upbeat piece that had Godfrey moonwalking past them.
This was all she had ever wanted for Mimi. To have a happy, loving family.
To be happy. To be loved.
It was all she had ever wanted for Nick as well.
Darcy had made that happen.
With her help of course, though it hadn’t always been easy.
But mostly … it had been Darcy.
Missy’s stubby tail wagged as she watched them dancing and laughing. This happily-ever-after had been a long time coming.
It had been worth the wait.
Also available by Heather Blake
Wishcraft Mysteries
To Catch a Witch
The Witch and the Dead
Gone With the Witch
Some Like It Witchy
The Goodbye Witch
The Good, the Bad, and the Witchy
A Witch Before Dying
It Takes a Witch
Magic Potion Mysteries
Ghost of a Potion
One Potion in the Grave
A Potion to Die For
Author Biography
Heather Blake is the national bestselling author of the Wishcraft mysteries as well as the Magic Potion mysteries. She’s a total homebody who loves to be close to her family, read, watch cooking-competition TV shows, drink too much coffee, crochet, and bake cookies. Heather grew up in a suburb of Boston but currently lives in the Cincinnati area with her family.
This is a work of fiction. All of the names, characters, organizations, places and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real or actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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