Magic & Mystery (Starry Hollow Witches Book 2)

by Annabel Chase

  Ben started to laugh, but then thought better of it. "How in Nature's name did that happen? A spell gone awry?"

  The sheriff shrugged. "That's what we're trying to figure out. He's not the only one, either. Thom Rutledge and Cayden Mercer have also been turned into frogs by an unseen hand."

  Ben stroked his chin. "Well, I can see why you’ve come to me. All three of them are clients here."

  "We went to see Dakota at the Lighthouse yesterday," the sheriff said. "She had recent interactions with all three gentlemen and mentioned that they each came here for haircuts. We were hoping that you might have overheard something helpful.”

  Ben sighed. "Dakota Musgrove. She’s something else, isn't she? Smart, successful, beautiful."

  "Those were my thoughts, too," I said.

  Sheriff Nash shot me a quizzical look. "Were they now?”

  “Settle down, Sheriff," I said. "I can appreciate the good qualities of another woman without it making me a lesbian. Not that there's anything wrong with that."

  "Have you noticed any issues with these particular clients?" the sheriff asked, returning his focus to Ben. "Did they have any problems with other customers while they were here? Any interactions with Robina that you noticed?"

  Ben considered the question for a moment. "No disagreements that I recall. They’re always in here in good cheer, regaling us with stories of their exploits." He cringed and glanced at me. “Apologies. I mean, relationships."

  "You don't need to sugarcoat anything for me," I said. “I had a strip club at the end of my block. I saw plenty of exploits.”

  "She's from New Jersey," the sheriff added helpfully.

  "There is one name that comes to mind," Ben said, still thinking. "I'm pretty sure I've heard at least two of them mention Artemis Haverford.”

  The sheriff leaned forward slightly. "Two of them were involved with the matchmaker?"

  Ben shrugged. "I can't say for sure."

  "Why would they need a matchmaker?” I asked.

  "Because they’re eligible bachelors in search of companionship," Ben said.

  "But it sounds to me like they don't have any trouble attracting companions," I said. "Why would they feel the need to visit a matchmaker?"

  "Artemis Haverford isn’t your typical matchmaker," the sheriff said. "She offers a bit more than you think."

  "You mean she's a madam?" And here I thought Starry Hollow was a sweet little magical town. Maybe there was a seedy underbelly, after all.

  The sheriff gave an embarrassed chuckle. "No, no. That's not what I mean at all. We may have our problems here in town, but prostitution isn't one of them. Thank Mother Nature.”

  Well, that was a relief. I didn't like the idea of Florian going to visit a magical madam.

  "Thanks for your help, Ben," the sheriff said. "We appreciate it."

  "Robina isn't in any trouble, is she?" he asked, a note of concern in his voice.

  “I’ll need to do a routine check on her documentation," the sheriff said, "but it sounds to me like everything’s in order."

  Ben looked relieved. "She's been more than a business partner to me, you see. Robina’s like a mother figure. My own mother died when I was young, so it's been nice to have an older woman to look after me the way she does."

  I sympathized. "It was nice to meet you, Ben."

  He gave me a shy smile. "You, too. If you’re interested in having someone show you around town, I'd be happy to oblige."

  His offer took me by surprise. “Um, sure. I work at Vox Populi. You can reach me there most days." I wasn’t ready to hand out my cell phone number to every elf with a bottle of bucksberry fizz, no matter how delicious it tasted.

  Ben nodded happily. “Okay, I look forward to it."

  Sheriff Nash had the decency to wait until we left the building to start his relentless mockery. "Picking up new admirers wherever you go, huh, Rose?"

  "I would think you’d be insulted," I said airily.

  “Insulted? Why?"

  "Why didn’t he assume that we have a thing going on? He asked me out right under your nose.” I whistled. “That’s ballsy.”

  The sheriff scratched his cheek. "I hadn't really thought about it like that. I guess he could just tell there was nothing between us."

  Now it was my turn to feel insulted. “I guess so."

  He turned on the radio and we drove back to the cottage in relative silence.

  Chapter 6

  I knocked on the door of Palmetto House, but there was no answer. I’d decided to drop in and see whether Linnea knew any of Florian’s secrets that might help identify the culprit. Between Aster and Linnea, I was sure that Florian was more likely to confide in the eldest sibling. I knew that would be my choice.

  I clicked open the door and walked through the beautifully styled living room to the back staircase that led to Linnea’s personal quarters.

  I found my cousin in her bedroom, buried under a mountain of laundry. Her white-blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she wore a lilac-colored tracksuit. Very unRoselike.

  “Ember, is that you?” a muffled voice said.

  “Yes.” I moved aside a few piles of clothes to reach her. “Why don’t you use magic to deal with this?”

  “I’m depleted,” she said, stretching out on the bed in the middle of folded towels. “I had to clean the kitchen and the bathrooms today.”

  “If magic takes that much out of you, why not hire cleaners?” I asked. “I’ve seen ads for fairy cleaners all over town.”

  Linnea looked at me like I had two heads. “No self-respecting witch would ever have a fairy cleaning service. That’s like admitting that you aren’t good at magic.”

  “But you’re an amazing witch,” I said. “I’ve seen your kickass powers.” She’d tossed Jimmy the Lighter across my apartment with the flick of her wrist. She belonged in black leather with thigh-high boots, not in a lilac tracksuit.

  “That was different,” Linnea said. “You were in danger. Adrenaline kicked in.”

  “Like when I made it rain,” I said.

  “Exactly. Survival taps into our deepest magical reserves.” She glanced helplessly around the bed at the piles of laundry. “Although I often feel like I’m hanging on by a thread. Being a single mother is hard, with or without magic.”

  “Preach it, sister…er, cousin.” I picked up a stack of towels. “I’ll help you. Where do these go?”

  “Ember, you don’t need to do that,” she said. “You have your own busy schedule to worry about.”

  “I owe you for saving my life,” I said.

  She blew a raspberry. “You owe me nothing.”

  “What about your kids?” I asked. “They’re old enough to be doing more around the inn.”

  “They help when they can,” she said. “It’s more important to me that they focus on school and their extracurricular activities. I want them to attend a good university, so they have as many choices in life as possible.”

  “Paranormal universities?” It hadn’t occurred to me that they had their own higher education system.

  “Of course.” She lifted a pile of clothes and began putting socks in the top drawer of her dresser. “Bryn really wants to attend Angel Oak University. It’s close enough to come home when she wants to, but not so close that I could drop in unexpectedly.”

  “She’s only fourteen,” I said. “You have a few years to go.”

  “They go by so quickly, though,” Linnea said, her arms now empty. “And Bryn is all about preparation. She basically raises herself.”

  I smiled. “She sounds like Marley.”

  Linnea picked up another pile of laundry. “They are very similar. They remind me of Aster.”

  I balked. “Aster?”

  “Miss Perfect? Yes, of course.” Linnea inclined her head. “You don’t think so?”

  “I really don’t know Aster well enough to say, but she seems so…” I groped for the right word. “Stiff and repressed.” Until she’s kicked back a
few cocktails, that is.

  “She’s also very organized and together,” Linnea said. She smiled at me over top of the laundry pile. “Unlike me.”

  “She has Sterling to help and she isn’t running a busy inn,” I said. I empathized with Linnea’s struggles.

  “That’s because she made better choices,” Linnea said. “She didn’t fall in love with a wereass.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself,” I said. I scooped up a set of folded sheets. “Tell me where these go.”

  She sighed. “The linen closet. This way.”

  We placed our piles in the linen closet and an idea occurred to me. “You know, I’ll need to practice my magic sooner or later. Why don’t you help me and, that way, I can help you?”

  “Practice how?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. Teach me a few spells that I can do around the house. That helps me, too. I can use them in the cottage.” I smiled. “Trust me, Marley will thank you.”

  Linnea chewed her lip. “I don’t know. Mother wants your training done in a certain way. She’s very particular.”

  I placed a hand on my hip. “Linnea, you need help and I want to learn magic. It’s a win-win.”

  She appeared thoughtful for a moment. “Okay, but you have to promise not to tell Mother. She’d have my head on one of her silver platters.”

  “She won’t while Florian is still a frog,” I said. “She won’t risk losing two children.”

  Linnea heaved a sigh. “Poor Florian. The kids keep asking about him. They’re worried they’re going to have an amphibian for an uncle forever.”

  “Hopefully not. There are multiple people working on the case, including me.”

  “Aster thinks Florian probably got what he deserved. That he finally stepped on the toes of the wrong woman.”

  “I try not to say what anyone else deserves,” I said. “It’s hard to know the real reason for someone’s behavior.”

  “True. I’m sure the whole town thought I was insane to marry Wyatt.” She snorted. “Guess I should have listened to the naysayers.”

  “I was hoping you might have insight into Florian’s recent dating life. Anyone you can think of that might not be on Simon’s list?”

  “I wish I had a clue,” Linnea said. “He and I haven’t talked that much lately. I’m always so busy.”

  “Maybe Florian can help you,” I suggested.

  Linnea burst into laughter. “Not likely. Florian is a spoiled wizard that doesn’t want to grow up and be responsible.”

  “That sounds like what Aster would say. Is that what you really think?”

  Linnea walked back to the bedroom and I followed. “Not really. I’ve just heard it bandied about so often, I’ve adopted the same attitude.”

  “It sounds to me like he’s constantly under your mother’s thumb and struggling to get out from under,” I said.

  Linnea nodded. “We all are, except Aster, because she does everything right.”

  “She’s struggling, too. Trust me. What about the first time she doesn’t?” I asked. “Aster is probably scared to death at what might happen, so she colors inside the lines.”

  “Mother raised us with an iron wand,” Linnea agreed. “It definitely leaves an impression.” She brightened. “Speaking of which, I’ll get my beginner’s wand out for you.”

  She went to the bedroom closet and pulled a box from the shelf, retrieving a bright red case.

  “That looks like a giant lipstick tube,” I said.

  She laughed. “I had gaudy taste back then. Mother was horrified that I came home with this one as my first wand.”

  “Your first act of rebellion,” I said.

  Linnea smiled and gazed at the case. “I guess it was.” She popped it open and handed me the wand. “I’d hoped to give it to one of my kids one day, but you know how that turned out.”

  I nodded. “Werewolves.” When a witch or wizard had children with a werewolf, the child could end up as one or the other, but not both. Linnea ended up with two werewolves, much to her mother’s disappointment.

  “The wand helps you focus,” she said. “Hopefully, it won’t be necessary as you develop your magical skills.”

  “Because I’m a Rose?”

  She winked. “Especially because you’re a Rose.”

  I paused, uncertain whether to ask my next question. “Do you believe all the hoopla about the One True Witch?”

  Linnea looked taken aback. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

  “I don’t know. It sounds so…elitist.”

  “Maybe it is, but that doesn’t make it untrue.”

  “Will I learn about the OTW in any of my training?” I asked.

  “I’m sure Mother would be happy to arrange it. She wants you to know everything about your heritage.”

  “I’d rather know everything about my family. I’d love to see pictures of my parents. Do you know if your mother has any?”

  “I’m sure she must,” Linnea said. “You’ll need to ask when she’s in the right mood, though.”

  “Ha. How can you tell when that is?”

  “Years of practice.”

  We laughed.

  “I need to restock the towels in the guest bedrooms upstairs,” Linnea said. “Why don’t we start there?”

  We each carried a laundry basket up two flights of stairs to the inn bedrooms. My thigh muscles burned by the time we reached the top.

  “That’s a good workout,” I said. “You know, I’ve been meaning to ask—what do you pay in property taxes on a place like this?” Real estate websites didn’t include paranormal towns, so I couldn’t snoop like I used to do in the human world.

  “It’s not too onerous,” Linnea said. “Even Mother’s taxes are reasonable, given the size of Thornhold.”

  I set down my laundry basket and pulled the wand from my waistband. “Now what?”

  “You focus your will on the wand,” Linnea said. “Then you do a spell on the towels. The easiest one would be a spell that sends all the towels to their respective places at once. You expend less energy that way.”

  “What about telekinesis?” I asked. “Will that use up more of my energy than a spell?”

  “Depends.” Linnea examined me. “What did you manage to do in your assessment?”

  “I moved a feather.”

  “A feather,” Linnea repeated, unimpressed.

  “And I saw cards in my head,” I added quickly, not wanting to be seen as a loser. “Marigold thinks I have potential.”

  “Let’s stick with a spell for now,” Linnea said. “I don’t want to interfere with Marigold’s training.”

  She told me how to grip the wand without getting a cramp in my hand and aim it without seeming like I was threatening the towels.

  “Are the towels capable of feeling threatened?” I queried.

  “Not in the way that you or I would, but there’s a definite energy to this. You don’t want to intimidate the towels with negative energy. Otherwise, they may resist the spell.”

  Hmm. Resistant towels. Definitely not something I would have considered.

  Linnea told me the spell to use. Then she stood behind me and put my body in the right position. She showed me where to place my thumb on the wand and demonstrated the tone of voice to use.

  “There’s way more to this than I thought,” I said. “I figured it would be a few magic sentences and poof!”

  “It will be, once you’re experienced,” she said. “In the beginning, it’ll require a lot of effort.”

  I was more than happy to put in the work. The fact that I had this ability at all still astounded me. I had no intention of wasting it.

  I aimed the wand at the towels. “Neatly folded, high to low/off to bathrooms, these towels go.” I glanced over my shoulder at Linnea. “Don’t you usually say the words in Latin?”

  “Depends on the spell,” she replied. “Beginners are generally better off with spells in English. It feels more natural.”

  I watched as th
e neatly stacked towels rose in the air and separated into equal piles before floating out of the room.

  “Give them a second, then go and check,” Linnea said.

  Sure enough, the towels went to their appropriate landing spots. I felt a rush of positive energy.

  “Again,” I cried. I realized that I sounded an awful lot like Marley.

  “It’s addictive, isn’t it?” Linnea asked, smiling.

  “What else can I do for you?” I’d never been so eager to do chores in my life.

  “I’ll say this much,” Linnea told me, giving my shoulder a squeeze. “You’re a welcome addition to the family, Ember.”

  “This isn’t hieroglyphics class,” Hazel said, scrutinizing my attempt at drawing runes. The-Mistress-of-Runecraft bumped me aside and took my seat. “This is how you do it.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m tired. I helped Linnea do chores with magic and I’m wiped out.” I bit down on my lip to silence myself. I wasn’t supposed to mention our extracurricular magic.

  Hazel noticed my expression. “I’ll keep it to myself. Just don’t overdo it. Otherwise, my time here is wasted.”

  I watched closely as she scribbled the fancy markings on my paper. Her freckled hand moved so quickly, I was sure she was using magic to produce such rapid perfection.

  “Good job, Hazel,” I said, giving her a pat on the back. “Have you ever considered a career in runecraft?”

  “You’re hilarious.” She handed me the pen. “Sit down and try again.”

  I begrudgingly complied. “So, if I master telekinesis, will I be able to control this pen with my mind?”

  “Probably,” she said. “But are you really that lazy?”

  I pointed the end of the pen at her. “Watch the insults, Hazel, or I’ll tell my aunt you’re mistreating her favorite niece.”

  Hazel fixed me with her crazed clown stare. “And I’ll shove that pen so far up your duff, you’ll need to master telekinesis to pull it out.”

  I swallowed hard. “Hazel, have you ever considered moving to New Jersey? I think you’d fit in nicely.”

  She stretched her bright red lips into a wide smile. “I’d fit in nicely anywhere, Ember. It’s my dazzling personality.”