Eastwind Witches Volume 1: Books 1-3: Paranormal Cozy Mystery

by Nova Nelson

  I shook my head. “No, not him.”

  “Hmm …” She tapped a perfectly manicured finger to her soft pale-pink lips. “Okay, then it had to be Jane.”

  “Nope.”

  The silence was thick between us.

  And then faint harp music filled the air.

  “I stand by what I said,” Bruce interjected. “She’s not my murderer. The murderer wouldn’t be guessing who the murderer is.”

  Not to be too harsh, but this was exactly why Bruce was dead. He was too big of a sucker for a pretty face. He didn’t want to believe she could do such a thing, so he hadn’t prepared for the event like I had.

  “Do you hear it, Grim?” I asked.

  “Hear what, the harp?”

  “Aha! I knew it.”

  “What? No! You, um, didn’t let me finish … I was going to say ‘harpy chorus,’ because that’s what I’m hearing right now. Awful. It’s like my ears are bleeding.”

  The tinkle of Tandy’s teacup landing on its saucer pulled my attention back to the crucial task at hand. “Do you have evidence?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I replied. “Looks pretty damning.” I flashed her a fake grin, making it obvious that there was no congeniality behind it. I wanted her to know that I knew. I needed her to feel trapped.

  “Are you going to tell me what the evidence is?” she asked.

  “No, I think I’m going to save it for Sheriff Bloom in the morning.”

  She inhaled deeply, staring down at her cup. “Have you ever been cheated on, Nora?”

  “Of course. Who hasn’t?”

  “Then you know,” she said without looking up. “Oh look, I’m out of tea.”

  “I’ll get you some more.”

  “No.” She rose quickly. “I can get it.”

  I tried to remain calm without taking my eyes off of her.

  “Guilt eats at people,” she said from just a few yards away in the adjoined kitchen. “In the end, our guilt catches up with us.”

  “Do you have something to feel guilty about, Tandy?”

  She returned with a full cup and the kettle. “Top up?”

  “Sure. Thanks.”

  She poured for me and set the kettle onto a small pot holder on the table beside her.

  “I wasn’t talking about my own guilt,” she said. “I was talking about Bruce’s.”

  “Bruce’s guilt? For what? What’d he do?”

  She grinned at me, and a sliver of pearly teeth cut through the gentle beauty of her face like a knife. “If you’ve solved the murder like you say you have, you already know.

  “I, on the other hand, only suspected. Too many late nights in a row, too many excuses. Sure, our relationship had begun as an affair, but I told myself it was different. He might’ve cheated on Jane, but he wouldn’t do that to me. I was different. Our love was different. But the truth was simple. I didn’t want to believe it. After all, why would someone who looked like him cheat on someone who looks like me?”

  “Can’t fault her for modesty,” Grim said.

  “But a girl can only make so many excuses for her man,” Tandy continued. “I didn’t want to use my song against him, but it was my last resort. So I did. I started to use it whenever it was just the two of us. For a while, he didn’t show any signs, and I felt relieved. I should have stopped there, but I didn’t. The effects take time to show themselves full force, you know. So I kept it up. On the one hand, maybe I was just being jealous and insecure. Maybe there was no other woman. But on the other hand … maybe there was.

  “Then the signs started to show. He thought Jane was trying to shut down Medium Rare. I knew she didn’t give a rat’s tail about that, though. Deep down, Jane wanted nothing more than to never see or hear from Bruce again. And however much Jane wanted that, Ansel wanted it more.

  “He’s bought her a ring, you know,” she said, and the mention of a proposal in the middle of what might turn into a confession threw me for a loop.

  “I didn’t know.”

  “Yes.” She traced lazy circles around the lip of her cup with a delicate finger. “But he won’t propose until he’s certain she’s moved on from Bruce for good. Well, I guess Ansel owes me one, now.” She brought the tea to her lips, drinking deeply this time. “Bruce’s paranoia got so bad that he brought me to Franco’s Pizza for dates, thinking it would intimidate Jane into backing off, hoping it might save Medium Rare, which was never in danger of shutting down in the first place. Because let’s be real, the town loves Tanner too much to see him lose the one place that feels like home to him.”

  But not too much to sit around doing nothing while he’s wrongfully arrested, I thought bitterly.

  “Anyway,” she said with a wave of her hand, “Bruce’s paranoia, coupled with the time I caught him talking to no one in bed one night when he thought I was asleep, made it obvious that my song had fallen on the ears of an impure soul.”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  She smirked. “You just did.”

  Was she really being cute with me right now? Did she not realize how much trouble was about to come crashing down on her?

  “Is it possible for a xana’s song to backfire?”

  “Huh?” Her nose crinkled along the bridge, making her look a little dim, a little ugly. And yeah, I took satisfaction from that. After all, she was a murderer, so I got to be petty, right?

  “It’s not making me paranoid,” I said. “Your song. It still sounds like harp music to me. But what does it sound like to you? I can’t imagine the soul of a murderer is exactly pure. Have you been paranoid lately, Tandy? Think you see things that aren’t there? What if you made the whole thing up and it was actually you who became more paranoid each time you sang your song to Bruce until you were convinced he was cheating when he wasn’t? What if you murdered him for no reason?”

  Her gaze drifted listlessly around the room as she considered it. “What? No. I couldn’t have … I know he was cheating on me. I didn’t make a mistake. He deserved to die!” Her attention snapped to me. “You’re trying to trick me, you lowly witch!”

  Her beauty vanished in an instant.

  She snarled as the harp played sharp and frantic. Her lengthy fingers gripped the handle of the iron kettle and she raised it up over her head. I was too slow to react. I tried to lift my arms to shield my face and deflect the blow that she aimed at me. Her strength and fury were terrifying, radiating off of her in blasts as she brought the kettle down on me and I closed my eyes and—

  “Gaaaaah!” she screamed. When I opened them again, all I saw was a flash of black, like a shadow flying through the air.

  Then it started to make sense.

  Grim.

  Deputy Manchester burst out of the bathroom and charged forward, and only after he had his cuffs out did Grim move from where he pinned Tandy to the floor, his massive jaws open around her neck.

  As the deputy cuffed Tandy and pulled her roughly to her feet, Grim positioned himself between me and the murderer, plopping his big butt down, causing the floorboards to shudder under my feet as he did so.

  Tandy resisted arrest as much as she could, but Deputy Manchester wasn’t short on physical power. He easily managed her as she thrashed around, shouting like a psychopath, which she clearly was, that she would do everything in her power to get free and come back for me.

  “Well, that’s certainly not going to help your case in trial,” Deputy Manchester said as he led her out the door. Before he disappeared from sight, though, he told me, “Don’t worry, Ms. Ashcroft. They always say these things once the cuffs go on. I lost count of how many death threats I had hovering over me, and yet here I am, surviving another day.” He nodded once, decisively. “Good work, by the way.”

  As he walked her down the front steps, a wooden cart pulled up in front of the house. It looked like one that might have been attached to the back of a horse a hundred and some-odd years ago in Texas, but there was no horse. Just the cart. Hovering.

  I mean, wh
y not? If I was learning anything about magic, it was that questioning the how of it didn’t lead anywhere. Best to just think, Oh hey! That’s neat! and then get on with your day.

  Or in this case, get on with your night.

  I shut the door and turned to face the two remaining occupants. Grim was aggressively licking his balls by the fire, so I decided to focus my attention instead on Bruce, who, if I’d heard Ruby right earlier, wasn’t long for this world.

  The murder was solved. The murderer was arrested. Bruce had his closure.

  Except he was still there. He hadn’t disappeared.

  Huh.

  “Can I help you?” I asked but then realized how rude it sounded. That was no way to talk to a dead guy who was only now coming to terms with the fact that his girlfriend was the one that had done him in. “I just mean, I had hoped that would bring you the closure you needed to move on.”

  “I’d hoped so, too,” he said, floating in the center of the room, his arms folded over his chest, his face squinched up, though in pain or deep thought, I wasn’t sure. Possibly both. After all, introspection too late in the game can be a form of slow torture. He focused his gaze on me, still wearing a pinched grimace as he said, “I’ve been a selfish jerk, haven’t I?”

  “Yes.”

  I know that’s usually the point where you’re supposed to lie and reassure the person that “anyone would’ve done that” or “it’s not so bad in the scheme of things.” But I couldn’t bring myself to go there. This was Bruce’s last opportunity for honesty. And I didn’t get the impression he wanted me to simply make him feel better.

  “I can sense it’s almost time for me to go, but before I do,” he said, “I need you to pass along a message for me.”

  “To?”

  “Jane.”

  I nodded.

  “Tell her that I realize now how selfish I’ve been—she’ll appreciate that—but also let her know she was the only woman I truly loved, and I never deserved it in return.”

  Despite all the trouble his actions had caused, my heart ached for Bruce. But mostly it ached for Jane.

  “She and Ansel are a much better fit. Let them know I send my blessing. And I know I’ve already asked enough of you, but if you could, explain to her that the especially hurtful things I did at the end—I wasn’t myself. I don’t say that for my sake, but for hers. I don’t want her to think the man who married her, who knew her so intimately would deem her worthy of that especially cruel treatment under regular circumstances.”

  I understood. And I believed the request didn’t come from a place of ego or self-preservation. “Of course,” was all I managed to croak around the lump forming in my throat.

  “Thank you, Nora.”

  And then Bruce Saxon slowly disappeared.

  That was that, I supposed. It was finished. The murder was solved, and the spirit had moved on.

  “Okay, fine.” Grim’s voice in my head made me jump. “I give up. You win. Sleeping by the fire is way better than sleeping on that dusty porch in February.”

  “Are you consenting to a bath?”

  “Obviously.”

  “Good, because you smell like trash.”

  He smacked his big, floppy lips, sticking out his tongue. “I taste like trash, too, if I’m totally honest.”

  “Ew, I didn’t need to know that.”

  “How about it? You ready to scrub me till all the ticks fall off?”

  I sighed, bone tired. Had he not saved my life only a few minutes before, I would’ve said he could sleep outside one more night and we could deal with the bath in the morning.

  But I supposed I owed him one … if not my life.

  “Yeah. Let’s do this thing. Ruby said there’s a hose out back.”

  I followed a few paces behind to avoid the brunt of his stink as we marched outside for a bonding experience neither of us was looking forward to.

  Epilogue

  I slept like the dead and woke up the next morning to midday sunlight glowing from behind the thick curtains of Ruby’s guest bedroom.

  The questions that floated nebulously around my head as I fell asleep had crystallized overnight, and they bombarded me almost the moment I opened my eyes.

  Now that the murder was solved, what was I supposed to do?

  Should I try to get back to Texas?

  Should I find a permanent place to live in Eastwind?

  Would Ruby let me continue staying here for free?

  What was my purpose in this town, now? How was I supposed to spend my free time?

  Free time.

  Now there was a foreign concept. I hated to admit how much the idea terrified me.

  But then, in the space left by a whirlwind career and a string of unfulfilling relationships and, more recently, a murder to solve, new ideas began to populate. Exciting ones. Ones that had no point other than enjoyment.

  I could go explore Eastwind.

  I could visit Sheehan’s Pub over in Erin Park.

  Or see Rainbow Falls.

  Or spend the day taste-testing at the farmer’s market.

  Or pop into one of the many clothing shops around the town centre (despite the magical cleanings, the same shirt and pants were overstaying their welcome; I’d stick with the coat, though, because I loved this coat).

  Ooo! Or I could visit the animal sanctuary where Zoe worked.

  Or I could find a magic shop and get some supplies. I possessed some level of magic, but I hadn’t yet tested my limitations.

  I was a witch.

  I sat up in bed and laughed.

  I was a witch!

  As strange as it sounds, it hadn’t set in until that moment. The hustle and bustle of adjusting to the strange new place and the pressure of finding who killed Bruce made it impossible for the reality to sink into my bones.

  The day was bursting with exciting possibilities and none of them were, strictly speaking, productive.

  Who was I, and what had happened to Nora Ashcroft?

  Then the rest of the previous night settled in, and I remembered that I had one big, unpleasant to-do item to check off before I could get up to my whimsical shenanigans.

  Having slept in so late, I’d missed Ruby’s breakfast time by a mile, and she was nowhere to be seen when I walked down, dressed for the day, and found Grim lying by the front door.

  “Son of a dog biscuit, I have to take a leak,” he said. “I thought you might’ve died up there and I was going to have to empty the tank inside.”

  “You suddenly have a problem peeing indoors? Because that’s not what your display in the sheriff’s office led me to believe.”

  “Exigent circumstances,” he complained. “You needed a diversion, and I provided. Don’t hold it against me, or next time you need my help, all you’ll get is a big, steaming pile of not-my-problem. Now can you open the door?”

  I didn’t wait for him to finish before heading to Franco’s Pizza. He caught up with me right as I turned onto the side street where the Italian restaurant was located.

  Greta greeted me at the hostess stand.

  “Just wanted to drop by to speak with Jane,” I said.

  “She’s not working today.”

  “Really?” I asked, suddenly concerned. “Is everything okay?”

  Greta looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “Yeah, everything’s fine. It’s just her day off.”

  “Oh. Right.” Some people took days off. Noted. “Any chance you could tell me where she lives?”

  I knew it was a long shot. I imagined someone walking into Chez Coeur and asking the hostess for my home address. If that wasn’t the purpose of the security button under the host stand, I didn’t know what was.

  But this wasn’t a big city. And despite the unusually high murder rate, Eastwind wasn’t the kind of place where everyone wandered around living in fear.

  And I loved that.

  Greta told me Jane’s address without hesitation, and I thanked her and let Grim show me the way.

 
; It was actually better that Jane was at home when I delivered Bruce’s message.

  I’ll spare you the details, though. The summary is that Bruce’s message was heard. There were tears (by both of us because I’m not a robot, okay?). Jane thanked me, and then I left her alone to presumably let the real waterworks begin.

  She’d recover. She had Ansel.

  And honestly, Bruce was kind of a terrible husband. And person. Sure, he came around in the end, but I wasn’t sure if that made it all better. He still left broken women in his wake.

  My feet led me to Medium Rare without my brain realizing where I was going.

  But it made sense. It was where it all started for me in Eastwind.

  And there was pie. Darn good pie.

  I’m not ashamed to admit I do occasionally enjoy eating my feelings, and I had quite a few of them at the moment.

  When Grim paused at the front doors, so did I. “What are you doing?”

  “Waiting outside,” he replied.

  “But you smell so good. And you look like a completely different animal now.”

  “Exactly. I look like a walking black cotton ball. You didn’t tell me a bath would make me frizz like this.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t know how your fur would react with magic. You look great. Just come in.”

  “I doubt they want dogs inside.”

  “The place was run by a werewolf. Besides, Tanner wuvs you.”

  “You promised you wouldn’t bring that up again,” he said, growling.

  I moved behind him and pushed him forward into the bustling late-lunch crowd at Medium Rare.

  My suspicion was that as soon as Grim caught a whiff of steak, he’d stop putting up a fight. I was right.

  Grim led the way over to an empty booth and made himself at home, climbing onto the seat and sitting up straight at the table. Okay then.

  I’d heard that Bryant, one of the servers, had stepped up to manage the place while Tanner was in custody. I’d assumed that meant things would be a bit of a train wreck around here, but that didn’t seem to be the case. None of the patrons appeared disgruntled, and most of the tables had plates of food in front of them already. Considering all the chaos around here, that was nothing short of a miracle. I hadn’t met Bryant yet, but I already knew he deserved a raise.