A Witch Before Dying: A Wishcraft Mystery

by Heather Blake

  “Do you know everything that happens in the village?” Mimi asked.

  The Elder had a tinge of humor in her voice when she said, “Not everything.”

  “Do you know who the Peeper Creeper is?” Mimi asked, and for once I was glad for her nosiness.

  “My governing,” the Elder said, “is limited to Crafters, Halfcrafters, and Cross-Crafters who use, misuse, or abuse their power.”

  “So,” I tried to understand, “either the Peeper is mortal, or it’s a Crafter who is not abusing her powers to commit the crime.”

  “Yes.”

  “And, as another example,” I said, “if Dorothy Hansel tried to burn down As You Wish but didn’t use her Broomcrafting power to do it, you have no jurisdiction in punishing her?”

  “Unfortunately, yes.”

  “That’s disappointing,” Mimi said, slumping.

  “Yes,” the Elder said. “That is when I must trust the local authorities to do their job.”

  Mimi brightened. “My dad is police chief.”

  “I know, my child.”

  “You can trust him,” Mimi said.

  There was a beat of silence again. “I hope so, Mimi. Now, it is time for the two of you to go.”

  “One more question?” I asked. Something the Elder had said had been bothering me.

  “One,” she said.

  “A few minutes ago, when we were talking about the Peeper overhearing my conversation with Archie…you said the intruder overheard.” I tipped my head. “Are the Peeper and the person who broke into my house yesterday two separate people?”

  There was definitely humor in her voice when she said, “It is not for me to say, Darcy.”

  I wished I knew what she found so amusing. “Just how many people have been sneaking around As You Wish?”

  The Elder said firmly, “It is not for me to say. You two are dismissed.”

  The tree went dark, and as we stood up, the tree stumps beneath us burst into colorful particles that rained onto the ground. Wildflowers immediately bloomed.

  “Wow,” Mimi said, bending to sniff a blossom.

  As we walked away, Mimi took my hand again. “She wasn’t as scary as I thought she’d be. I kind of liked her, except for the part about the diary.”

  I held up the diary and it slipped from my fingers and fell onto the path. Mimi gasped. “It’s okay,” I said, crouching down to pick it up.

  The book lay face-up and had opened to a page that apparently had been well read. There was even a bookmark holding its place.

  Mimi grabbed for it before I could reach it and said, “I’ve got it. Here.” She handed it back to me.

  But not before I’d seen the heading on the page.

  Spells.

  I glanced at Mimi, and again she wore a guilty flush as she suddenly felt the need to study a leaf.

  But what, exactly, was she guilty of?

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  After I made sure Mimi made it home safely, I headed back to As You Wish. Missy and Tilda were both sitting on the back step, on opposite sides like gargoyles protecting a castle.

  But who were they protecting it from?

  Was there more than one Peeper?

  The Elder’s elusive answer told me yes, but it left me with more questions: Who? Why?

  Missy raced down the steps to greet me, while Tilda turned and went back into the house via the dog door. “She has a bad attitude,” I said to Missy.

  Missy yapped.

  I petted her head and went through the mudroom door. “Ve?”

  No answer. I checked the whole house, but it was empty. It had been over an hour since Mimi and I had left to see the Elder.

  My stomach twisted into a big knot, and I tried to tell myself not to worry. Ve had assured me she could handle her visit to Dorothy alone. An hour passed. Two. Ve wasn’t answering her cell phone, either; I’d left over a dozen messages.

  Taking a deep breath, I knew what I had to do.

  I had to go see Dorothy.

  I made sure Missy was settled and headed out the back door. On the other side of the fence, Archie was inside his cage in Terry Goodwin’s yard, and I went over to him. “I can’t find Ve. She went out a couple of hours ago to see Dorothy, and I’m afraid something might have happened to her.”

  He fluffed his feathers and glanced around nervously. “Perhaps give Ve a few more minutes? I’m sure she’ll turn up.”

  Resolutely, I shook my head. “I’ve got to go look. I’m afraid that crazy Dorothy did something to her.”

  “I’m sure she didn’t,” he said. “She is not so stupid.”

  “Archie, she tried to burn down the house.”

  “You do not know that for certain.”

  I glared at him.

  He gave in. “I will help you search for Ve. We will find her in no time. I am sure of it.”

  Archie unlatched his cage door with his wing and took to the skies while I checked to make sure the agate ball was in my tote bag before I set off. I also carried Melina Sawyer’s diary—I didn’t know what to do with it, despite the Elder telling me to “search within.” I’d searched. I still didn’t have a clue.

  Tourists milled about the Roving Stones tents, and I spotted Starla snapping pictures. She saw me and waved. I waved back and pressed onward to Third Eye.

  Suddenly, I felt that eerie sensation of being watched by something—or someone—malevolent again. The hair rose on my arm, and I turned around, but no one stood out.

  When I turned back, I saw Zoey Wilkens waving frantically at me. “Thank goodness I ran into you,” she said as she neared. “I’ve been calling Ve all afternoon and thought I’d just run over to As You Wish to see if she was around.” Worry lines creased her forehead. “Is she? I know she’s been ill….”

  “She’s finally feeling better, which is why she’s not at home.” My worries increased. Ve had mentioned going to the Stove for lunch—apparently she’d never made it there. “Actually, I don’t know where she is.”

  She nodded and wrung her hands.

  “Is there something wrong?” I asked.

  “It’s about the wedding menu,” she said nervously. “There’s been…an issue.”

  “What kind of issue?”

  The feeling of being watched faded, replaced now with a sudden panic that I was about to hear some news I wouldn’t like.

  Zoey tucked a piece of her blond hair behind her ear and suddenly looked her age. Gone was the confident chef, replaced now with a nervous young woman. “Someone left the fridge and freezer open last night. All the food has spoiled. Everything we had on hand for Ve’s wedding is rotten.”

  I let her news sink in. “The fridge and the freezer were left open?”

  “It’s very strange. The alarm on the doors didn’t work, either. A freak accident, I suppose,” she said.

  Sounded more like sabotage to me. “Will you be able to order more food in before the wedding?”

  “Some, but unfortunately not all. I’m guesstimating at this point we’ll be able to do half of the original menu. Do you want to go ahead with that? Or if you’d rather switch vendors, I’d understand.”

  I thought about those invitations in the trash—and all the people who hadn’t received them. Maybe Dorothy’s high jinks would end up being a wacky sort of silver lining. “Go ahead with what you’ll have on hand.”

  Zoey clutched her heart. “Oh, thank goodness. I was so scared that you’d cancel on us.” Her lip quivered. “Honestly, we need the business right now to stay afloat.”

  “Because of the food poisonings?”

  “You heard about that?”

  I nodded.

  “It’s horrible, Darcy. Just horrible.” She let out a breath and said, “I need to get back. I’ll see you tonight?”

  “We’re still having class?”

  She nodded. “The dish we’re making has mostly dry ingredients. The rest were easily replaced.”

  “Maybe in light of everything, you should just c
ancel the class?” I said.

  “I wish. But I can’t do that. We’d never be able to refund the class fees. See you later?”

  My nerves tingled, but her wish hadn’t been phrased in a way as to be granted. I wondered if she was a Crafter or if she and Jonathan were Halfcrafters. I’d assumed she was a Foodcrafter with her talents, but I didn’t know for sure. And if she were mortal, and married a Foodcrafter, I couldn’t be certain they were both now Halfcrafters. If Jonathan didn’t tell her about his powers, she would be no wiser.

  “I’ll be there.” I watched her head back to the Sorcerer’s Stove. Anger simmered inside me and my jaw clenched.

  First the wedding invitations. Then the fire. Then Ve’s dress. Now the reception food? Enough was enough. I stomped the rest of the way over to Third Eye to have it out with Dorothy and deflated when I saw the CLOSED sign hanging on the door again.

  Okay. Fine. I’d just go see her at her house.

  Then I let out a breath and groaned. I had no idea where Dorothy lived. I racked my brain for a quick solution and my gaze snapped to where Starla had been standing on the green.

  Except now she was nowhere to be found.

  Who else would know? I perked up. I knew just the pair who could point me in the right direction. Godfrey and Pepe. Either would know.

  I spun around, crossed the square, and headed for Bewitching Boutique. Godfrey was helping a customer when I came in, so I snuck into the back room to see if Pepe was around.

  He wasn’t in the workroom, so I knocked on Pepe’s door in the baseboard, but he didn’t answer. I realized he was probably out on patrol with Archie. Hopefully, they had already found Ve, safe and sound.

  Across the room, I saw Ve’s wedding dress hanging on a freestanding rack. I melted a little bit at the sight of it. It was truly lovely, and she was going to look amazing in it. I really hoped she was making the right decision marrying Sylar.

  A moment later, Godfrey bustled in and kissed my cheeks. “To what do I owe the surprise of your company?”

  “I need your help. I need to talk to Dorothy, but I don’t know where she lives. I assume you do?”

  “What do you need to talk to her for?” he asked, aghast.

  “Well, it’s not so much as talk to as it is to see if she hasn’t maimed Ve in some way.” I explained how Ve was going to see Dorothy and hadn’t returned.

  He paled. “We must call the police at once!”

  I put my hand on his arm. “I don’t think it’s that drastic.” Yet. “Let me just run by and see what I can see. Then we’ll call the police if we have to. Where does she live?”

  “She’s moved since we dated. I think…” He scratched at his temple. “I believe she moved to Cauldron Lane. No, Woodland Court.” He threw his hands in the air. “My memory, it’s not so good.” He clapped twice and a little black book appeared.

  He had a similar trick for his customer records that never ceased to amaze me.

  His finger glided across the page. “Aha! Here it is. Old Forest Lane. Do you know it?”

  I knew it well.

  It was Nick and Mimi’s street.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Opposite ends of the street, it turned out. Dorothy’s house, a cute cottage, was the third house on the street, and Nick’s was far on the other side—at the dead end.

  For some reason, that knowledge gave me some comfort.

  But that comfort was short-lived. As I walked up the driveway to Dorothy’s house, toward the open garage door, what I saw stopped me in my tracks and made me want to turn around and run all the way home, sore ankle and all.

  In fact, I thought that was a splendid idea.

  I spun around, hoping they hadn’t seen me.

  “Darcy!” Nick called out.

  Damn, damn, damn.

  Slowly, I turned back around and pasted a phony smile on my face. “Hi,” I said, giving a little finger wave.

  Glinda glared back at me, looking as pretty as pretty could be in a yellow sundress. “I’m surprised to see you here, Darcy,” she said.

  Suddenly I felt like I should have put more care into my denim capris and white tank top as I approached them in the garage. “I, ah, came to see if Ve was still here.”

  The two-car garage was spacious and open. On one side, a pair of bikes was parked along with other household riffraff, like the lawnmower and trash cans. The other side of the garage, however, had been fashioned into a woodworking shop. Dozens of chisels sat on a work top, and several pieces of big equipment—planes and lathes and saws—took up most of the space. Along the wall were dozens of handmade wooden items, ranging from brooms to plaques with kitschy sayings, to frames and even baskets. Shelving held freestanding objects, like bowls and statues. All were exquisitely made.

  I glanced at Nick. “I’m surprised to see you here.”

  He was in casual clothes. Jeans and a T-shirt. His hair was rumpled and stubble darkened his cheeks. He looked fairly exquisite himself.

  “Just taking a walk,” he said, “and saw Glinda in here. Thought I’d see what she was working on.”

  He had a tone to his voice I couldn’t quite place. I studied him closely and was taken aback when he winked at me. A flash of red across the street caught my eye. Archie was sitting on a tree in the neighbor’s yard.

  Ah. I got it now. Archie had tipped off Nick that I was coming over here and he had come as backup—only he’d beaten me here.

  “You’re working on something?” I asked her, all sweetness and light, now that I realized Nick didn’t hang around here in his free time. Then it dawned on me. If Dorothy was a Broomcrafter, there was a good likelihood Glinda was, too. “Brooms?”

  She lifted a perfectly plucked eyebrow. “A bowl.” She lifted it up to show me. It was beautiful, and I realized I’d seen one just like it recently.

  “Do you know Zoey Wilkens?”

  Glinda’s eyes widened; then she laughed. “Know her? Of course I do. She’s my sister. You didn’t know?” She rolled her eyes. “I shouldn’t be so surprised you don’t know. Zoey doesn’t like to remember that she’s part of this family, too. She’s embarrassed of us. Well, of Mom. Why did you ask about Zoey?”

  “She had a bowl like yours and said she made it. It was gorgeous.”

  “She’s very talented. A natural talent, because she’s not even a Broomcrafter,” Glinda said. Then laughed a little. “She doesn’t know about the Craft at all. She’s not even a Halfcrafter. Jonathan never shared his Craft secret with her when he married her. Zoey’s still a full mortal.”

  “How is that possible?” I asked, trying to figure out how Zoey was a mortal with Dorothy, a Broomcrafter, as her mother.

  Glinda grabbed a broom—a normal one, found at any hardware store—and started sweeping. “Zoey is the lucky one in the family. She was adopted during Mom’s second marriage, so she thankfully doesn’t share my crazy genetics.”

  My head was spinning with all this information. And oddly, during this strange, strange conversation, I also realized that I kind of liked Glinda.

  I hated admitting that.

  “Mom’s second husband was a mortal, and Mom wasn’t about to lose her powers to tell him about the Craft so he had no idea about our abilities,” Glinda said, still sweeping. “And since it was secret from him, it had to be kept a secret from Zoey, too.”

  Magical subterfuge seemed like such a tangled web.

  “Isn’t it hard to keep that big of a secret from Zoey?” Nick asked.

  “Easier than you think,” Glinda said. “As Crafters, we know how to keep a secret. Some of us more than others.” She sighed. “With Zoey’s talent, she should be woodcrafting as a career, but no. She fell under Jonathan’s spell and insists on staying at the restaurant.”

  Jonathan’s spell. Had he really cast one, or was it only a figure of speech? It was something I had to think about. According to everyone, Jonathan and Zoey’s relationship had come out of nowhere…. Had magic been involved? Had he made her fa
ll in love with him just like Geer had made Patrice fall in love with him?

  “You don’t like Jonathan?” Nick asked.

  “He’s okay.” She reached for a dustpan. “But I can’t understand what she sees in him. Love is blind, right?”

  All I could do was nod. “Sometimes.” Which reminded me of why I was here. “Have you seen Ve? Is she still here?”

  “I haven’t seen her,” Glinda said.

  “Is your mom home?” I couldn’t believe I had the guts to ask. Confronting Dorothy was the last thing I wanted to do. Having the agate ball made me feel a little bit more confident.

  “She’s working today.” She set the dustpan on the ground.

  “At Third Eye?” I asked.

  She nodded and angled the broom to sweep the debris into the dustpan.

  “But it’s closed,” I said, wandering over to the workbench for a look at the little wooden snowmen on the shelf. They were adorable. “I was just there.”

  Worry crept into Glinda’s eyes. “Are you sure?”

  “Very.”

  “That’s strange.”

  Nick said, “She was there an hour ago when I questioned her about the fire.”

  Glinda went pale. “You questioned her?”

  Nick folded his arms across his chest. “I had to.”

  “What did she say?” Glinda asked.

  “She said I had no proof. And she’s right. Unless you know something you want to share.”

  With a blank look, she said, “No.”

  She finished sweeping and picked up the dustpan. It was filled with wood shavings. My gaze shot to hers, and she quickly looked away.

  “Glinda?” I said.

  “Hmm?”

  I held up the little snowman. “Did you make this?”

  Her cheeks colored. “No.”

  “Did Zoey?” I ventured.

  She shook her head.

  “Dorothy?”

  After a long second, she nodded.

  “And what kind of woodwork is this, exactly?”

  When Glinda didn’t answer, Nick took hold of the snowman and examined it.

  “It’s been whittled,” he said solemnly.

  Whittled. Just like the person who’d been in the woods the night Evan was attacked.