Magic & Mystery (Starry Hollow Witches Book 2)

by Annabel Chase

  "If you say so,” I said.

  We left the cottage and traipsed across the grounds toward the main house.

  “Why do you call her ‘my lady,’ but she calls you by your first name?”

  “Your aunt is the lady of the house,” Simon replied. “She asked for my preference many years ago and I answered her truthfully.”

  "Am I in trouble? Is she mad that I haven't figured out who put the spell on Florian yet? Because I swear I’m working on it." More importantly, has she figured out that the frog in the house may not be Florian? My palms began to sweat.

  "It is not for me to speculate, miss,” he said.

  "So, do you have set working hours or are you at her beck and call?" I asked, trying to distract myself with idle chitchat. “Because you’re always around.”

  "I live at Thornhold, but my lady is more than generous," Simon said.

  “Do her silver bells annoy you?” I asked. “When you hear one now, do you just want to throw it across the room and smash it to pieces?”

  He hesitated. "I have no such desire, miss. The enchanted bells assist me in serving my lady. I happen to enjoy being excellent at my job."

  No argument from me there. Simon was an incredible butler, not that I had experience in such matters. My closest brush with a butler before now was playing Clue with Marley.

  We arrived at the house and Simon led me to Aunt Hyacinth’s office.

  I looked around eagerly. “Bonus! I haven't gotten to see this room yet."

  "If you have a seat, my lady will be with you shortly."

  I made myself comfortable in one of the leather chairs and waited for my aunt. The room seemed more like a library than an office. The walls were lined with bookshelves and a large mahogany desk sat in the middle of the room. The windows behind the desk provided a view of the grounds to the east. I imagined the view looked amazing when the sun rose in the morning.

  "Thank you for coming so quickly, dear,” Aunt Hyacinth said, stepping into the office. She wore a golden kaftan that reminded me of an Indian sari. Her white-blond hair was pulled back in a French twist.

  "It didn't seem like I had much of a choice," I said. "When Simon shows up on your doorstep in his fat tie, it's like the Terminator saying ‘come with me if you want to live.’”

  Aunt Hyacinth frowned. Not a Terminator fan, apparently.

  “His fat tie is called an ascot,” she said.

  Noted.

  My aunt took her place behind the desk and steepled her fingers. "I understand you’ve been diligently following up leads on Florian’s case.”

  Although she didn’t seem to suspect anything about the frog in the enclosure, something about her approach set off my alarm bells. “Yes, isn't that what you wanted?"

  Aunt Hyacinth gave me a reassuring smile. "Yes, yes. Of course, my darling. I'm just surprised the sheriff would let you tag along so often during his investigation. I assumed you’d be working with Alec and Bentley. It's so unlike Granger to show a modicum of sense."

  I shrugged. "He's been pretty sensible as far as I can tell,” I said. "He said that he knew I’d be talking to people whether he wanted me to or not, so we may as well talk to them together."

  “What about Bentley?”

  “We decided to divide and conquer, for the most part.”

  She sat in silence for a moment, considering me. "I understand you and the sheriff had lunch together at the Lighthouse the other day."

  Sheesh. My aunt really had a bee in her bonnet over this lunch.

  "It was after we spoke with Dakota Musgrove, one of the suspects,” I explained. "She's a chef there, and she’d been on dates with all three frogs." I shook my head. "I don't mean that she dated the frogs. Obviously, she dated the men."

  Aunt Hyacinth held up a hand. "I'm following you just fine, dear. I'm interested in why you felt the need to encourage him."

  My brain buzzed. "Encouraged him to do what? I don't follow."

  Aunt Hyacinth sighed. "It took how many years for Linnea to realize that she made a huge mistake with Wyatt? I don't intend to repeat the same mistake with you."

  I laughed. "I'm not about to marry the sheriff and have his werewolf pups.”

  "Not today, naturally," Aunt Hyacinth said. "But this is how it begins. An innocent lunch, and then suddenly you’re choosing the date for your elopement and trying to find a way to hide your werewolf pregnancy."

  So that was what this was really about. She was concerned that she would have another Linnea and Wyatt on her hands.

  "Aunt Hyacinth, the lunch was business. I have no interest in dating Sheriff Nash, and I'm pretty sure he has no interest in dating me. At best, he finds me annoying."

  "Well, that's absurd," Aunt Hyacinth said. "If anyone's annoying around here, it’s those Nash brothers. They need to learn to steer clear of the witches in this town."

  I bit back a smile. "I appreciate your concern, but, as Marley will tell you, I have no interest in dating. At all." It suddenly occurred to me that I should tell her about Ben before she misconstrued that outing as well. “On that note, you should probably know that I agreed to let an elf take me out tomorrow night. His name is Ben and he owns Snips-n-Clips. The sheriff and I went to talk to him about the frog situation and he offered to show me around town.”

  Aunt Hyacinth gave me an appraising look. "An elf, did you say?”

  “I’m more interested in making friends than boyfriends, so I’m not interested in dating him," I said, "but, if I were, I’d still go out with him, whether you approved or not. I know you want me to be like Aster and marry a wizard and have magical Rose babies, but I don't know yet whether that's my path. If it is, great, but it won't be because you insisted on it." I met her steely gaze. "Are we clear on that?"

  She continued to stare at me a bit longer, probably waiting for me to look away first. I wasn't going to play that game.

  "I see," she finally said. "You're as stubborn as your father, I'll say that for you."

  "He would have liked that,” I said.

  Aunt Hyacinth stood and escorted me to the door. "I didn't say it was a compliment, darling."

  It would have unnerved Aunt Hyacinth to know that I was joining the sheriff on another interview shortly after the meeting in her office. Between the security around Thornhold and the rumor mill, she probably knew the moment I got into his car.

  As we drove into town, he displayed that irritating habit of repeatedly hitting the button to change the radio station. I could barely catch the tune of the song before he switched to the next song.

  “Do I need to buy you a fidget spinner?” I practically shouted. I was sorely tempted to slap his hand away from the radio controls, sheriff or not.

  He cast a sidelong glance at me. “What?”

  “How can you tell what song options are on if you keep flipping past them?”

  He grinned. “When I hear one I like, I’ll stop.”

  “But you can’t hear anything,” I insisted. “One note tells you nothing. If this is the strategy you’ve applied to dating, it’s no wonder you’re still single.”

  His expression clouded over. “That’s harsh, Rose.” He placed his hand back on the steering wheel. “Go on. You choose.”

  I hit the button twice before the thumping chords of Born in the USA grabbed my attention.

  “Springsteen,” I cheered.

  “You’re a fan, huh?”

  “It’s a state requirement,” I replied. “Plus, my father loved this song. It’s from the 80s.” I could still remember playing my air guitar in the kitchen with him.

  The sheriff bobbed his head. “I guess I can see the appeal.”

  “You guess?” I asked, outraged. “We may need to part ways right here, Sheriff Nash.”

  “You’ll have to check out some of the local bands now that you’re an official resident,” he said. “The Wishing Well hosts a lot of live music.”

  “How is paranormal music different from human music?”

 
He parked the car on Bailiwick Road right in front of our destination. “The music isn’t much different, but you haven’t lived until you’ve seen a guy with horns and a tail strumming a six string.”

  “I look forward to crossing it off my bucket list.” I glanced up at the name of the shop—Charmed, I’m Sure. “Who’s the next suspect?”

  “Bryony Pennywhistle. She owns this shop.”

  “Got it. Let’s go, partner.”

  He tipped back his hat and stared at me. “Partner?”

  “Yeah, you know, like in cop shows.”

  “I don’t watch cop shows.”

  I strolled up to the shop door. “Maybe you should. You might learn something.” Although I didn’t look back, I could feel his scowl and a laugh churned inside me.

  I entered the shop and was immediately struck by the rows upon rows of colorful bottles in all shapes and sizes. Definitely not the right place to practice my telekinesis.

  I shot him a quick look. “Potions?”

  “Didn’t the name of the store give it away?” he asked.

  “I didn’t really notice.” I frowned. “So, she’s a…”

  “A witch,” Bryony said, appearing behind the counter. She was oddly beautiful. Her cropped hair was dyed a pale pink and her eyes were large and violet. I wondered whether she drank one of the store’s potions to achieve her look. “I’m not big on attending coven meetings, though. Never been much of a team player, much to my parents’ chagrin.”

  “She sounds right up your alley, Rose,” the sheriff said, jostling me with his elbow.

  “Rose?” Bryony considered me with interest. “You’re Ember Rose?”

  “So says my Starry Hollow passport.” The all-access pass to the town’s offerings.

  She studied me intently. “I see the resemblance, although it’s subtle. You don’t look like the usual carbon copy.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said, with a small shake of my head. “You can’t be a witch.”

  Bryony looked momentarily confused. “You’re not here for a potion, are you?”

  “Afraid not,” the sheriff said. “We’ve got a few questions about your recent dating habits.”

  I glanced at Sheriff Nash. “This doesn’t make sense. Florian doesn’t date witches.”

  “Well, he went out with me,” she replied, with a roll of her violet eyes. “He said he only did it to make his mother happy.”

  “He told you that?” I queried. It didn’t seem typical of Florian. He seemed perfectly happy to bypass his mother’s wishes.

  She gave me a pointed look. “Why do you think there was only one date?”

  “And what about Cayden Mercer?” I asked.

  “Cayden?” She glanced from me to the sheriff. “Oh. I get it now. Is this about Frogmaggedon?”

  I stifled a laugh. “Good one.”

  Bryony blew out a breath. “I guess you would need to question me. I went out with Thom Rutledge, too, but you probably already know that.”

  “We do,” the sheriff said. “I spoke to someone at the Wishing Well, who said you two were together the night before his transformation.”

  Her brow lifted. “He was found as a frog the next morning?”

  “He was,” the sheriff said. “So you can understand why we’d like to hear more about these dates. Think of us as interested girlfriends.”

  “Forget it,” Bryony said. “I’m only giving you the minimum level of detail required by law. You can’t make me say anything else.”

  Sheriff Nash straightened. “Sounds like a challenge, Miss Pennywhistle.”

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Bryony suggested slyly. “Being a werewolf and all.” She groaned. “I’m swearing off werewolves, though. I can’t keep falling for the same type of guy over and over again. I hate to agree with my mother, but it isn’t healthy.”

  “The date with Cayden didn’t go well?” I asked.

  “He spent most of our date tracking the waitress with his eyes,” Bryony said. “Admittedly, her boobs were amazing, so I could understand it, but still…” She blew a strand of pink hair out of her eye. “No girl wants to be with a guy when his roving eye is in full force. It’s humiliating. And my rack is nice to look at, isn’t it, Sheriff?” She puffed out her more than acceptable chest.

  I watched with amusement as the sheriff struggled to respond in an appropriate way. “It’s perfectly in proportion with the rest of your body.”

  Bryony shot me a triumphant look, as though I’d disagreed.

  “Did you say anything to Cayden?” I couldn’t imagine biting my tongue in a situation where my date’s attention was so clearly on someone else.

  She examined a violet fingernail that matched her eyes. “I may have used a little magic on his fried chicken.”

  My brow lifted. “Magic that turned him into a frog?”

  Bryony held out her wrists. “Sure. Arrest me now.” She burst into laughter. “Of course not. Suffice it to say, he likely spent the night embracing his toilet.”

  I wrinkled my nose at the thought.

  “And Thom Rutledge?” the sheriff asked.

  “The incubus?” She smiled dreamily. “We met in the Wishing Well. Danced to the live music. What was the band called?” She snapped her fingers. “Hocus Pocus.”

  The sheriff’s face lit up. “They’re really good.” He elbowed me again. “That’s the kind of band you should go and listen to, Rose.”

  “I’ll make a note of it.” I turned my attention back to Bryony. “Did you leave the Wishing Well with Thom?” I remembered that the incubus had been discovered as a frog in bed.

  “Had to. I lost a bet.”

  That piqued my interest. “What was the bet?”

  Bryony chuckled. “Let’s just say there were a lot of body shots involved and I overestimated my abilities.”

  “And after the shots?” the sheriff asked.

  “A lady never kisses and tells, but I will say that he was well fed.” She paused and another smile touched her lips. “A midnight snack and breakfast.”

  “What time did you leave?” the sheriff asked.

  Bryony looked thoughtful. “Early. I had to be here to open the store and get the fresh batch of potions ready. My part-timer only works in the afternoons and she’s not trained as a mixologist.”

  “And how did Thom seem when you left?” the sheriff asked.

  “Asleep,” Bryony said. “The heavy snoring was a big clue. He was very tired.” She winked at the sheriff and he shifted uncomfortably.

  “You didn’t notice anything unusual?” I asked. “Did you see anyone else when you left his place?”

  Bryony shook her pale pink head. “I thought I heard a neighbor’s door when I left. Otherwise, it was just the birds in the trees, serenading me during my walk of shame.” She didn’t appear to be remotely shameful, which was perfectly fine with me. What two consenting paranormals got up to was their own business, as far as I was concerned.

  “I’ll just ask you this one time,” the sheriff said. “Did you give these men any potions or use any spells that would turn them into frogs?”

  “Absolutely not,” she said. “In fact, I was disappointed to hear about Thom. I was hoping to have another…meal with him soon.”

  “Hopefully, you will,” I said. “We’re determined to get to the bottom of this. Aren’t we, Sheriff?”

  He gave me an amused look. “Of course we are, Miss Marple.”

  “Miss Marple?” I echoed. “Wasn’t she an elderly spinster?”

  He grinned. “See? The resemblance is uncanny.”

  Bryony reached for a bottle on the counter. “I have something you might be interested in, Ember. Come back another time and we’ll talk about it.” She flashed an innocent smile at the sheriff. “Let me know if you need anything else from me, Sheriff.”

  “Because you’re such a team player?” he queried.

  “I am when it comes to matters that impact me directly,” she said. “And Thom Rutledge as a
frog definitely impacts me directly. Small and green doesn’t really do it for me.”

  “Kermit will be so disappointed,” I said.

  Bryony gave me a blank look.

  “What? We know Miss Marple here, but not Kermit?” I was outraged on behalf of The Muppets. “Forget it. Let’s go, Sheriff. I need to get back to the office and see if Bentley has followed up any of his leads. We have our own bet going.”

  The sheriff appeared alarmed. “You do?”

  I waved him off. “Not like Bryony’s bet.” Popcorn balls, no. “It’s for a byline.”

  “Look at you,” the sheriff said, as we left the store together. “Using fancy journalist vocabulary. They might make a reporter out of you yet, Rose.”

  “I’m pretty sure that’s the idea.” Now if only I could drum up enough information on the case, I might actually get to report on it. With Bryony out of the running, though, my chances were getting slimmer by the minute.

  Chapter 11

  “Mom, are you sure that's what you want to wear tonight?" Marley asked.

  I glanced down at my blue T-shirt and capris. "What's wrong with this?"

  "Nothing, if you're going to the grocery store," Marley said. "You’re supposed to be going on a date. I think he might expect a little more effort."

  I shrugged. "What? I'm wearing lipstick. Anyway, it’s not a date. A new friend is showing me around town.”

  Marley groaned. “Whatever. Why did you even agree to go out with him?"

  "Because he seems like a nice elf,” I said. “And maybe I feel secretly guilty for not making an effort to provide you with a male role model."

  Marley made one of her sassy faces. "Don't pin this on me. I just don’t want you to waste your youth. If you wait until I'm a grown-up to date, who knows what shape you'll be in by then?"

  "Gee, thanks," I said. "Nothing like a vote of no confidence from my daughter."

  “Change your clothes the old-fashioned way,” Marley insisted. “But you need to learn to do spells like our cousins. They could create something awesome with the snap of their fingers."

  I had to admit, that was a pretty nifty trick. I had a feeling it would take me a while to reach that level of sophistication.