A Witch Before Dying: A Wishcraft Mystery

by Heather Blake

  We walked slowly. Despite a gentle breeze rustling leaves and stars twinkling, the tent flaps still clanked against their poles, sounding a little like prisoners dragging tin cups along their bars. It was unsettling.

  “I don’t like how much I’ve been hearing about this Anicula,” he said. “It’s turning up everywhere from the Peeper case to Patrice’s murder.”

  “Do you think the two cases are connected?”

  “Maybe.”

  I angled toward him to look into his face. “Remember the whole sharing thing?”

  “I’ve been doing a little digging,” he said (rather reluctantly, I thought). “All the houses broken into?”

  Trying to encourage him, I nodded.

  “All have been Charmory customers. I contacted Elodie this afternoon, and she e-mailed me her customer list and credit card purchases for the last two years. It’s extensive, but a quick search revealed that every person who had a house broken into had used a credit card at the Charmory within the last eighteen months. I suspect there have been many more break-ins that we don’t know about.”

  “That means our Peeper somehow got hold of that list.”

  “Yes. Probably broke in and copied it from her computer.”

  “Eighteen months, you say?”

  “Yes.”

  “When Patrice disappeared.”

  He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to.

  My pulse had kicked up a notch. The Peeper wasn’t looking for items related to the Craft. The Peeper was looking for something that belonged to Patrice. “Our Peeper is looking for the Anicula.”

  He glanced at me. “I believe so.”

  I supposed that ruled out Vince Paxton as the Creeper. I silently sent him an apology.

  “Why, all of a sudden, is the Peeper getting sloppy?” I asked. “Leaving behind evidence of break-ins, and like tonight—why so many break-ins in one night?”

  “I can think of one reason only, Darcy.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Someone is getting desperate.”

  Why that person was so desperate was left unasked. There was absolutely no way to know.

  “What would you wish for?” I asked him. “If you could wish for absolutely anything?”

  “It seems surreal to even think such a thing is possible, doesn’t it?”

  “Surreal and a little scary.”

  I recalled what Archie had said about how the Anicula changed people.

  It can turn the shy into a braggart; the humble into an egoist; a servant into a god.

  “I’d probably wish that Mimi has a long, happy and healthy life. You?”

  I wasn’t the least bit surprised that his wish was for someone else.

  “It’s strange being a Wishcrafter. There are so many times I say to myself that I wish I could grant my own wishes, most recently because I wished I could make Ve feel better. But to actually have that power? I don’t know if I’d want it. It’s one thing to grant other people’s wishes without them knowing it—it’s a bit like being a fairy godmother—but at least those powers are limited. With the Anicula, you can change the course of someone’s life. Interfere with matters of love, life, death. I don’t think I’d want that power or that responsibility.”

  Crickets chirped a symphony as we circled back to the bookshop. “But someone obviously does,” he said.

  “We just have to figure out who wants it the most, and we’ll find our Peeper.”

  “And possibly a murderer as well.”

  He was probably right. Every negative aspect in Patrice’s life had revolved around that Anicula. I had to find out whether she’d abused its power. Elodie denied the rumors, but I didn’t know if she was simply covering for her mother.

  I could think of only one other person who might know the truth: Yvonne. I had to get her to open up to me somehow.

  “In the interest of sharing,” Nick said, “I’ll also tell you that Patrice’s autopsy report came in.”

  “And?”

  “Inconclusive,” he said. “The medical examiner thinks it was probably asphyxiation.”

  “She was alive when someone put her in that suitcase?”

  Headlights swept over us as a car drove past. “It looks that way. She was probably knocked out or drugged beforehand. I’m not sure we’ll ever know.”

  An ache deep in my chest squeezed my lungs, making it hard to breathe. Poor Patrice. Poor Elodie. “That’s horrible.”

  “Yes,” he said softly. We walked in silence the rest of the way.

  As we neared the alleyway leading to Harper’s door, I said, “Well, all in all, it’s been nice working with you.”

  With a hint of mischievousness in his voice, he said, “You know what they say about all work and no play.”

  In the shadows of the building, we slowed to a stop again, and the two dogs glanced back at us, clearly annoyed. Nick and I looked at each other, and I was enjoying the feelings racing through me—maybe a little too much. “Play?” I asked lamely.

  His hand came up and cupped my cheek. He slowly leaned in, and my heart was doing a happy jig, kicking around in my chest like a drunken leprechaun. He was going to kiss me! And right then, there was nothing more I wanted in the whole world.

  I resisted the urge to throw myself into his arms and allowed myself to enjoy the tingles on my skin, the touch of his rough palm on my cheek, the scent of him, of the night air. The anticipation.

  But as I slowly leaned in to meet his lips, he suddenly drew back, his gaze hard on a car coming down the street.

  I stiffened. It was a pink village police cruiser, its strobe light flashing.

  Glinda.

  I cursed her timing as the car slowed to a stop and the window powered down.

  Nick said, “Anything wrong, Officer Hansel?”

  “Another report of a break-in, Chief. I’m on my way there now.”

  Under the streetlamp, I could clearly see the calculating way she was looking at us. A chill went down my back.

  “You should get going, then,” he said in a firm voice.

  She nodded and said, “Yes, sir. But the homeowners insisted on speaking to you.”

  “Who?” he asked.

  “The Merricks. Roger and Yvonne.”

  I drew in a breath. The Peeper had broken into their home?

  Nick said, “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

  “Yes, sir.” She glared at me as the car rolled away.

  I stared after it and said, “Can I come with you?”

  “Why?”

  At least he hadn’t said no right off. “I want to talk to Yvonne, and this might be the perfect time. If she’s rattled, she might open up to me.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t. Protocol.”

  I bit my lip. “Is there anything stopping me from dropping the dogs off and then checking on Patrice’s house? After all, it’s across the street and might have been hit as well. If I happen to bump into Yvonne in the process…”

  “Hit?” he said with a smirk.

  “Hey, if I’m going to be a PI, I have to learn the lingo, right?”

  He rolled his eyes. “You being a PI is not a good idea.”

  I lifted an eyebrow and narrowed my eyes, ready to fight it out.

  Quickly, he raised a hand in surrender. “I should be going. I’ll see you there?”

  Nodding, I just hoped I wouldn’t run into the Peeper on my way.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  When I ran upstairs and dropped off the dogs, I was surprised to find Ve missing.

  Mimi was sleeping on Harper’s bed, and my sister was sorting books on the shelf that had fallen on Marcus. He was working on trying to get Tilda out of her cage.

  If that didn’t make him a keeper in Harper’s eyes, I didn’t know what would. She was a pet lover at heart.

  I couldn’t hear any hissing, but that didn’t mean Marcus could let his guard down and I told him so.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m kind of a Cat
Whisperer.”

  We both stared at him.

  “It’s true,” he said. “Watch.”

  He lay down on his belly and put his head dangerously (in my opinion) close to the opening of the cage. “Come on out, sweetheart,” he cooed. “I’ve got a nice can of tuna for you. The good stuff.”

  I stole a look at Harper. She had an oooey-gooey look in her eye.

  Not wanting to openly gloat, I hid my smile of triumph. Unless Marcus did something to screw this up, his chances with Harper had just skyrocketed. Especially after Tilda pranced out of the cage as if she had been planning on it all along. Marcus scooped her up, and damn if I couldn’t hear her purrs across the room.

  Cat Whisperer, indeed.

  I explained where I was off to and asked, “Where’s Ve?”

  Harper set a book on the shelf. “She went back to As You Wish to cast the protection spell.”

  Glancing at my watch, I saw it was just past twelve thirty. “Alone?”

  “She called Terry. He’s meeting her there.” Her eyes twinkled. “It didn’t sound like he minded at all when she called to ask.”

  I would think not. According to Ve, Terry Goodwin had been trying to win her back for years. “Really? Terry?”

  Tilda had settled herself nicely in Marcus’s arms. He said, “She might have been encouraged by your sister.”

  “Harper!” I gasped.

  “What?” she asked innocently.

  “Ve’s getting married on Sunday.”

  She shrugged. “She’s not married yet. I think she should explore all her options before settling down.”

  Ve had been married four times already. Her options had been vastly explored. But I didn’t have time to argue with my sister.

  I checked on Mimi, who was sleeping with her arms thrown over her head. Missy had curled up next to her and looked as happy as could be. Higgins had claimed the couch—the entire couch, and I knew I didn’t want to be the one to evict him from his spot. Which left me wondering where the rest of us were going to sleep.

  It was a problem to worry about later. Right now, I wanted to get over to see Yvonne. I vaguely explained to Harper what I was doing, glossing over the break-in as no big deal, and headed out.

  Five minutes later, I stood in front of Patrice’s house. There were already two police cars in front of the Merricks’ house, but neither one was Nick’s, and I didn’t see any sign of him.

  In the interest of keeping up false pretenses, I planned a quick walk around Patrice’s house before I tried to find Yvonne. As I approached the back deck, which thankfully was lit from a globe light near the door, I stopped short.

  There was broken glass on the decking. I zeroed in on the back door. The glass in the upper part of the door had been smashed and a hand-sized hole was clear. Just big enough for someone to put their arm through and unlock the door from the inside.

  Carefully, I stepped over the broken shards and pushed the back door open. From a quick glance, nothing appeared amiss. But that seemed to be the Peeper’s MO.

  “Not here, too,” a raspy voice said from directly behind me.

  Letting out a squeal, I grabbed my heart, turned, and found Yvonne.

  She held out a hand and steadied me. “I’m sorry. I thought you heard me coming. Did you find something?”

  Adrenaline rushed, pricking my skin, making my heart throb. “The house has been broken into again.”

  “Seems that there’s a spree going on. Nick Sawyer just left on another call.”

  Ah, that’s why Nick hadn’t been across the street. Desperate. The word echoed in my head. “Was anything taken at your house?”

  “No, I don’t think so. I woke up and found the intruder pawing through my jewelry.”

  I felt my eyes widen. “You saw the Peeper?”

  “I couldn’t believe what I was seeing,” she said, rambling on. “At first I thought I was dreaming.”

  “Understandable.”

  “I wondered if I was seeing things,” Yvonne said, shaking her head. Her blond hair had been pulled back in a headband, and the chain that normally held her reading glasses was absent from her neck.

  My curiosity was killing me. “Did you recognize the Peeper?”

  “Oh no. It was much too dark, and the Peeper was dressed all in black, hooded head to toe.”

  I deflated.

  “The Peeper stood there, picked up a piece of jewelry one at a time, mumbled something, then went on to the next piece. It was very strange. When the Peeper turned and found me staring, the Peeper jumped a little bit. Kind of like you did a minute ago. That’s when I realized it was very real and started screaming.”

  “You saw the Peeper’s face?”

  “No, thanks to a ski mask.”

  Damn. “What did Roger do?”

  “He slept through the whole thing,” she said, outraged. “He can barely keep his eyes open even now.”

  “He slept through the whole thing? Really?”

  “Not even a snore, which is very unusual for him—trust me.” She yawned. “I think he may be coming down with something—he wasn’t feeling well at dinner. Maybe that’s the explanation.”

  I had a sinking feeling. “Did you go out to eat?”

  Looking left and right, as if afraid to be overheard, she said, “Between us, Darcy, I brought in takeout. But Roger thinks I made it.”

  Let me guess. “From the Stove?”

  “If Roger finds out, I’ll never hear the end of it. You know how he feels about Jonathan.” She made a face. “Usually the food there is above reproach, but I couldn’t eat much of mine—something was off with it. But Roger cleaned his plate, as usual.”

  I didn’t mention the food poisoning going around and hoped Roger had an iron stomach.

  She gave a little cough. “My throat is still sore from all that screaming.” She smiled. “But you’ve never seen a person run so fast.”

  “The Peeper didn’t take anything?”

  “Not a thing. Strange, isn’t it?”

  “Not if the person was looking for the Anicula and didn’t find it.”

  Her face paled in the moonlight. “You think?”

  I nodded and looked at the broken back door. “I think the Peeper was here, too.”

  I thought about what this meant. The Peeper was on a crime spree.

  “We should let the police know about this,” Yvonne said, motioning to the back door.

  I wasn’t sure if I’d get another opportunity tonight, so I said, “Before we do that, I wanted to ask you something.”

  Puzzled, she lifted her eyebrows. “Me?”

  Crickets chirped in the dark woods around the house. Mosquitoes buzzed annoyingly. “I spoke with Andreus Woodshall this afternoon. He told me quite a story about the Anicula.”

  Frown lines deepened around her mouth. “I bet he did.”

  “Is it true?”

  She let out a deep breath and seemed to shrink inside herself. “That Geer and Roger dug up that stupid amulet? Yes, it’s true. Fools.”

  Shocked, I said, “Roger helped Geer?”

  Leaning against the deck rail, she stared into the sky. “Did Mr. Macabre neglect to mention that?”

  He hadn’t mentioned it. And I wondered why. Also, why had Roger willingly helped Geer steal the amulet with what Geer had in mind? I could only surmise that Roger had had no idea Geer planned to wish that Patrice fall in love with him—and leave Roger brokenhearted in the process.

  Yvonne swatted away a bug. “Then I suppose he didn’t mention my role in it, either?”

  She’d stunned me. “What?”

  How had she even known about the amulet? She’d been a mortal at the time…. Then I remembered that magical charms weren’t solely limited to Crafters. Because she had known about the Anicula at the time didn’t necessarily mean she had known about the Craft. That knowledge had obviously come later—when she married Roger.

  Taking a deep breath, she said, “I knew what Geer had planned. I could have st
opped him. And I didn’t. Andreus has never forgiven me.”

  “You and Andreus were friends?”

  She nodded. “Best friends. I betrayed that.”

  I put the pieces together. “Because you wanted Roger for yourself?”

  Slowly, she nodded. “Geer knew how I felt about Roger, and I knew how he felt about Patrice. He told me all about his plan to steal the Anicula and wish that Patrice would fall in love with him. I didn’t tell a soul. I wanted Roger and Patrice to break up because I knew Roger would come to me for comfort. However, I drew the line at actually helping Geer get the amulet.” She shuddered.

  “Grave robbing, you mean?”

  A moth buzzed her head as she winced. “Yes.” Her eyes fluttered closed. “It’s so shameful. But because I refused to help and Geer couldn’t do it alone, he tricked Roger into helping him. Roger never saw what was coming.”

  But Yvonne had known. And she’d been waiting. I didn’t know how to ask what I was thinking, so I blurted it out. “You didn’t mind being Roger’s second choice?”

  Looking into the distance, she shook her head. “No. And I still don’t. I love the big ape. I just wish he loved me.”

  One of the Wishcraft Laws was that I couldn’t interfere with love, so I felt safe in not granting that wish. “He doesn’t?”

  Her jaw quivered, but her voice was firm. “He never stopped loving Patrice. When Geer made the wish that he and Patrice fall madly in love, he neglected to wish for Roger’s happiness. It’s why Roger doesn’t like Elodie.” She gave me a sad smile. “Every time he looks at her, he sees Geer and is reminded all over again what he lost.”

  My mind spun. “Did Patrice know about Geer’s wish?”

  “Not for years. He finally confessed what he’d done in a letter to be read after he died.”

  I imagined that had come as quite a shock. “But she’d been happy with him, right?”

  “A picture-perfect life.”

  But had it been? Really? Could the Anicula really hold so much power that it could snap Patrice out of love with Roger and in love with Geer in a flash?

  It gave me the heebie-jeebies just thinking about it, about how Patrice had had no say in the matter.

  I pushed my luck with Yvonne. “Why did you and Patrice have a falling out?”