Honestly, I could see where he was coming from. But I knew I couldn’t show it. Not if I wanted to get as much information as possible. “Seriously? You do realize that you have an excellent motive for this murder, and no alibi. Besides, if the person who did this gets away with it, then yeah, your blackmailer is now gone, but that would mean there’s a murderer walking around town. Do you really want to live in a town with a killer?”
That last sentence seemed to finally get through to Anthony. He paused, bit his lip, and looked at the ground while he considered his options.
“Fine,” he finally said. “Jon Gress. Talk to him. Danielle was awful to him. They dated last year, and when he dumped her, she made him drink a potion that landed him in the hospital for three weeks. They never managed to prove that she was the one who did it, but it was definitely her. Everyone knows it.”
“Alright, thanks,” I said with a nod. “Appreciate it.”
“Can I go to class now?”
“Yeah, of course,” I replied, and Anthony immediately scurried off, happy to get as far away from me as possible.
There was no shortage of people who wanted Danielle dead, I thought to myself. It was too late to find Jon Gress; classes would be starting at the Academy in just a couple of minutes. But I had wanted to go to Pacific Cove and see what I could find out.
Just then, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out to see a text from Willow: a coffee emoji, followed by a question mark. I smiled and typed out a reply.
Sure. But I have to go to Pacific Cove. Is it your day off?
Willow’s reply came a moment later. It is. I’ll come with you to Pacific Cove as long as you promise no one is going to try and kill us.
Deal.
We organized to meet a few minutes later near the portal, and when she came by, I smiled.
“Thanks for coming with me.”
“Honestly, like eighty percent of me doesn’t want to do this, but the other twenty percent is worried that you’re going to get into trouble.”
“Oh?” I said, my eyebrows rising. “When have I ever gotten into trouble?”
“Literally every single time you’ve tried anything, ever?” Willow replied with a laugh. “I heard there was an incident at Smells and Spells yesterday, and the first thing I thought of was that you just had to be involved somehow, even though it’s your sister that works there and not you.”
“Well, actually,” I said, and Willow groaned.
“I knew it!”
“To be fair, none of it was my fault, and I actually saved everybody from the ghost made of fire that Natalie triggered. She’d just broken up with her boyfriend and didn’t realize what effect it was going to have on her potions.”
Willow shook her head. “There needs to be more education among young witches and wizards about the dangers of using magic when they’re in a fragile mental state.”
“Agreed,” I said. “Although, when it’s your job, it’s not always that easy. Sometimes the boss wants you to do the magic, whether or not you’re mentally able to.”
“Well, that’s a whole different problem,” Willow replied. “But yes, I agree.”
We reached the downtown portal in Pacific Cove, located in the middle of a small park. The portal took the form of a large cedar tree with a hollowed-out portion in the middle, and a wolf shifter stood guard in front of it.
“Where are you going this morning?” he asked as Willow and I approached.
“Pacific Cove,” I replied, and he nodded, stepping aside to let us pass.
“Enjoy your travels,” the shifter said, and I stepped past him and ducked my head just a little bit to enter the hollow of the tree. As soon as I did so, the world shifted under my feet. I had spent my whole life traveling to places using portals, so this wasn’t in any way a surprising feeling. I just closed my eyes to avoid the dizziness that could be caused by portal travel, and when I felt my feet on solid ground again, I opened my eyes once more to find myself standing on a piece of driftwood on the beach, the ocean waves rolling in the background.
Gulls squawked in the background as I breathed in deeply and inhaled the sea air. A dragon shifter reading a book sat on a nearby piece of driftwood. Her eyes looked up at me as I stepped off the log and onto the sand, but then quickly moved back to the page. Obviously, I was not considered much of a threat.
A moment later, Willow appeared out of nowhere as well.
“Excuse me,” she asked the shifter. “Could you tell us where the best place in town to get a coffee is?”
“Sure,” came the reply. “Rise and Grind. That’s it over there.” She pointed at a small cottage right on the main street, where a couple of wizards had just exited.
“Thanks,” Willow replied, and the two of us made our way over there.
“So what’s the plan here?” Willow asked as we walked up the beach. “Or, let me guess, you don’t have one?”
“I was just going to play things by ear,” I said with a shrug.
“Of course you were. You can’t just wing a murder investigation, you know?”
“Yeah, but I don’t know anything about the people who live here. Besides, coffee shops are great sources of information. You know that. People love to gossip.”
“I should have known,” Willow said as we made our way up to the light blue converted house and stepped inside. The interior of Rise and Grind was light and airy, with huge windows along the whole front of the store, light hardwood floors, and white walls.
A long cabinet next to the counter showed off a whole collection of macarons, and I licked my lips, thinking that this trip had already been a very good idea.
I immediately made my way over to the glass and peered in excitedly, checking out the flavors. There was Feeling Blueberry, the sign indicating that it was a mood booster to be taken when feeling down. Jolt of Java was an energy-boosting espresso-flavored macaron, Mango Tango turned anyone with two left feet into the most elegant paranormal ever, and Hot Jalapeno Chocolate was a chili-and-chocolate macaron designed to warm the eater up on cold days.
I had no idea which macarons I wanted.
“Sometimes I swear hanging around you is like having a five-year-old,” Willow said.
“You just don’t understand the simple pleasures in life,” I replied.
Willow laughed. “That’s actually a good point. Since you’re basically drooling onto the glass, why don’t you decide what macarons we’re getting?”
I made my way to the fairy working the counter and ordered a selection of six macarons, asking for a knife so we could cut them in half, and added a couple of coffees to the order.
Willow pulled out her wallet and paid while I checked the website of the Mt. Rheanier Reader—the local newspaper—and found a photo of Danielle.
“Can I ask if you’ve seen this witch around town before?” I said to the fairy, who leaned in to get a good look at the photo before nodding.
“Yes, but she’s not local. She’s been here a couple of times. She keeps to herself, mostly sits in the corner. I’ve seen her come in with Megan, though.”
“Megan?”
“Megan Numa. She’s the owner of Phoenix Chocolates. Turn right when you leave here, take another right at the first corner, and follow the road to the end. You’ll reach a huge building. That’s the old Pacific Chocolates factory building. The house about a hundred yards away is Megan’s.”
“Thanks,” I said to the fairy with a smile.
“No problem. I’ll bring the food out in a minute.”
Willow and I made our way to a table near the window. The view was gorgeous, getting to look out over the dark ocean waters. The big storm was supposed to come in this afternoon, so I wanted to enjoy this while it lasted.
Hopefully Megan Numa would have some answers for us, too.
Chapter 15
After eating our coffee and macarons—which were absolutely amazing—I felt energetic and ready to go. The half jolt of java in one of the macarons certain
ly helped with that.
“We had some Phoenix Chocolates, didn’t we?” Willow asked. “The ones Leda gave you, right?”
“Yeah,” I said with a nod. “They were amazing. Hopefully Megan is looking for someone to sample something.”
Willow laughed. “You’re incorrigible. You literally just ate the equivalent of three full macarons. How can you still be thinking about food?”
I shrugged. “Solving murders is a great way to burn calories.”
“So is running.”
“This is way more fun.”
“It’s also way more dangerous.”
“That’s half the fun.”
“You’re an insane person. Like, seriously, completely insane.”
“And yet you love me anyway,” I teased as we walked along the roads. I liked it here. Pacific Cove had a nice small-town feel and reminded me of Mt. Rheanier. People smiled at us as we walked past, and a dog familiar bounded toward us, happily wagging his tail as I gave him some pats.
After about five minutes, we reached the end of the street, and I knew we had to be in the right place.
“Well, that’s certainly an interesting design choice,” Willow said, motioning toward the building that had to be the old Pacific Chocolates factory. It was maybe three stories high and had originally been quite small, with obvious parts added on. However, none of the add-ons seemed to make any sense from an aesthetic point of view. It was like somebody had found a whole bunch of building materials at the dump and used them to haphazardly expand the factory.
“I have to admit, it does have a certain charm to it, though,” Willow said, tilting her head as she looked at the building. “It’s certainly better than those tall, plain, glass monstrosities that all look exactly the same up in Spokurse.”
“That’s definitely true,” I said, my eyes moving from the factory and looking for the house the fairy had told us about. Sure enough, on the other side of a small fence, about a hundred yards from the factory, sat a cute little cottage. That had to be the place.
Willow and I made our way to the front door and knocked. Right away, we were greeted with the sounds of a dog barking. The door opened a minute later, and a little fluffy corgi ran toward us, his little legs moving as fast as they could. He immediately began spinning around us in circles, and I laughed as I put my hand down to see if he wanted to have a sniff. He did, carefully inspecting my hand before going back to running around.
“Sherlock!” the witch in front of us said. “Come on. Get back in the house. That’s no way to treat guests.”
Sherlock did as he was asked, sprinting back inside and returning a moment later with a tennis ball, which he dropped at Willow’s feet. She laughed and picked it up.
“Ok if I throw this?” she asked the witch, who nodded with a smile.
“You’ll be his best friend forever if you do.”
Willow threw the ball toward the fence and Sherlock bounded after it on his little stumpy legs. He was absolutely adorable.
“Hi, are you Megan?” I asked the witch, who nodded. She was of average height with black hair and a friendly face.
“I am, yeah.”
“We were wondering if I could talk to you about a witch you may have known, Danielle Dashwood.”
“Sure, come on in,” Megan said, opening the door wide for us. “Please excuse the mess. My chocolate company is growing a little bit more quickly than I’d expected, so it kind of looks like a Mars bar factory exploded in here.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” I joked as I automatically made my way to the kitchen in the open-plan home, peering into a cauldron full of delicious-looking molten milk chocolate. Next to the cauldron was a wire cooling rack filled with chocolate-chip cookies. On the other side of the cauldron were a half dozen cookies sitting on a piece of parchment paper. They had been dipped into the chocolate and then topped with orange and white sprinkles that moved around by themselves, changing into pumpkins, bats, and other Halloween-themed shapes.
“These are so cool!” I exclaimed as I watched a witch’s hat carefully change into a cauldron with white sprinkle bubbles boiling over.
“Thanks,” Megan said with a grin. “It’s my first attempt at making enchanted cookies. You’re welcome to try one, if you want.”
“Don’t mind if I do. I like you already,” I said, pushing away the thought that maybe Megan should be on my list of suspects. Nobody who dabbled in the purest art of all—making chocolate—could possibly be a murderer, after all. Right?
I grabbed a cookie and took a bite while Willow sat down on the couch and played with Sherlock, who quickly flopped over onto his back, realizing Willow was more than willing to rub his tummy.
“This is the best cookie I have ever eaten,” I announced when I finished my bite. “Where on earth did you get this recipe?”
Megan smiled as she sat in an armchair across from Willow. “The woman who taught me how to make chocolates, Grace, has had that recipe in her family for years. She’s the one who gave it to me. I’m glad I’m doing them justice; when Grace brought me a batch a few days ago, they were so good I just about fainted.”
“Right?” I said, polishing off the cookie with a second quick bite. “Well, my apologies to Willow. I’m afraid I’m going to have to drop her as my best friend and adopt you instead.” Willow and Megan both laughed.
“So, can I ask why you want to know about Danielle?” Megan asked as I sat down next to Willow on the couch. Sherlock didn’t bother moving; he decided the witch patting his belly was definitely preferable to the witch who wasn’t.
“Have you heard that she was killed the other day?” I asked, and Megan’s hand flew to her mouth.
“Killed? Really?”
“Yeah,” Willow confirmed with a sad nod. “They found her body yesterday morning in Mt. Rheanier, along the trail she ran every day.”
“Oh, how awful. No, I didn’t know,” Megan said. “She was so young.”
“She was,” I said with a nod. “How did you know her?”
“Danielle came by here a few weeks ago. She was in town looking for information on the Las Brujas gang. Have you heard of them?”
Willow and I both nodded yes. Las Brujas was a gang based mainly in California that ran a number of illegal schemes and activities. As far as I was aware, they had absolutely no presence in Mt. Rheanier, and I had no idea what Danielle might have been doing down here looking into them.
“Well,” Megan continued, “I’ve come across them a couple of times in some investigations I’m doing. I’ve discovered that one thing they like to do is to blackmail people into doing things for them so that no one actually in the gang gets caught doing anything. If anyone gets caught doing something illegal, it’s always the people they have been blackmailing. Anyway, I suppose Danielle found out that I’ve been looking into it, and she came to ask me about what I know.”
“Were you suspicious of her? Did you think she might be with the gang?” Willow asked, and Megan nodded.
“Initially, yes. I insisted we meet in public, so we had coffee a few times at Rise and Grind. But the more I spoke to her, the more she seemed genuinely clueless about the activities of the gang. You don’t have them in Mt. Rheanier, do you?”
I shook my head no.
“I didn’t think so. I also went down to Mt. Rheanier to ask a few people about Danielle. I learned she was just an average student at the Academy, from a good family, with a reputation for being a bit of a diva and not the nicest person, but not so mean anyone would want to kill her.”
“That sounds about right,” I said. “Although there’s contention on the last point. Someone definitely did want to kill her, and I know of a few people who aren’t all too broken up about her death.”
Megan sighed. “That’s too bad. She did seem like such a nice young woman, and I was surprised to hear that she wasn’t actually all that pleasant. Why do you want to know what she was up to?”
“Well, I got a pretty firsthand
account of how unpleasant Danielle could be,” I replied. “The situation ended with her getting hexed, running out of the bar, and telling anyone who would listen how sorry I was going to be—all only a couple hours before her body turned up. So now all of Mt. Rheanier thinks I’m a murderer, and I’m trying to clear my own name.”
Megan gave me a small smile. “You have no idea how much that story resonates with me. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“I’d love to know what you told Danielle, and whether or not you know what else she did in Pacific Cove. Apparently, she came here a few times.”
Megan nodded. “She came here a few times to speak with me. I’m not sure there was anyone else here in town she would have come to see, though. I don’t know anyone else—apart from my sisters, who know the same things I do but are far less involved in it all—who would know anything about Las Brujas here. She wanted to know how they operated. I told her about how they blackmailed people in order to hide their own illegal activities, and I asked her if she thought there was something going on in Mt. Rheanier, if maybe the gang was getting a foothold there. She told me there was nothing like that, but that she had heard about the gang and how someone in Pacific Cove was looking into them. She thought it was close to home and wanted to know what I knew so she could keep an eye out in case something like that happened in Mt. Rheanier.”
“That sounds a bit strange,” I said.
“I thought so, too. But at the same time, I didn’t get the impression that she was lying. She seemed genuinely interested in how the gang operated.”
“I wouldn’t have been surprised if she was looking to join,” I said darkly.
“That’s possible,” Megan said slowly. “Although if that were the case, she probably would have been better off going to someone actually in the gang, rather than someone like me on the outside. I told her what I know, but I can’t guarantee it’s all correct.”
“Right,” I said. That did make perfect sense. “Do you know if she did anything else while she was in Pacific Cove? Her friends said she was visiting here all the time, but I get the impression you only saw her a couple times?”
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