Sweet Murder Hex (Sweetland Witch) (A Cozy Mystery Book)

by Zoe Arden

"Ava Fortune."

  "One moment, please, Miss Fortune."

  He dialed a number on his office phone—a landline—and spoke to someone who was either Dean Lampton or his secretary. Probably his secretary. His smile widened. When he hung up, he turned to me and spoke in calm, even tones.

  "I'm sorry, Mr. Lampton is unavailable."

  "Unavailable?" I asked. "Or unavailable to me?"

  "Both."

  "I see." I tapped my fingers on the counter. I had to get inside that building somehow.

  "What if I did this?" I asked and pulled a twenty from my wallet. I laid it flat on the counter and winked at the guard. "I'm just going to use the bathroom. Is that all right?"

  The guard's eyes gleamed with delight. "Fine by me," he said, taking the twenty off the counter. He folded it up and added it to his wallet. "The bathrooms are right there," he said, pointing to the left. I saw a sign with an arrow pointing toward a doorway.

  "Oh. I'd rather go inside the main building."

  "I'm sure you would. But the bathrooms are over there."

  He pointed toward the sign again and I sighed.

  "Can I have my twenty back?"

  He blinked at me. "I'm sorry, Miss Fortune. I don't know what you're referring to."

  This guy was tough. He wasn't going to budge. His hand wavered near his hips, and I realized for the first time that he had one of those super-charged wands that Colt used sometimes.

  Crud.

  "Can I speak to Mr. Lampton myself? If I told him the purpose of my visit, it might change his mind."

  "He's unavailable."

  "It's a matter of life and death."

  "Whose life and death?"

  "Every man, woman, child, and witch," I said, repeating the words that Esther Winslet had used when speaking to me. The eerie words that had stuck to my brain like cling wrap.

  That got his attention. He hesitated, then picked the phone back up. He spoke in whispered tones to whoever was on the other end then turned back to me and held the receiver out.

  Dean Lampton's voice came over the phone. It was smarmy and dripping with acid. I didn't understand why some people liked him so much. I had to assume they only heard the happy politician voice, not the malicious voice I heard now.

  "Ms. Fortune, I'm a very busy man. I regret that I have no room in my schedule today to meet with you. If you call back and make an appointment, I'm sure my secretary—"

  "Cult of V." I had hoped those words might jar him enough to get me in the door. They did. He was silent for a full minute before speaking again, his voice huskier than before.

  "Please hand the phone back to the guard, if you would be so kind."

  I handed the phone to the guard. He listened, nodded, then hung up and buzzed me through the gate. Another guard directed me to the top floor. I took the elevator up and stepped onto a boring-looking floor of grays and browns. A woman smiled behind the reception desk.

  "I'm here to see Dean Lampton," I told her.

  "Of course. Right this way, Ms. Fortune.”

  Her smile was as fake as the guard's. She showed me to Dean Lampton's office. When the door opened, my jaw hit the floor. The office was the exact opposite of the rest of the floor. The grays and browns were gone, replaced with deep maroons and blues. Gold and pewter antiques lined the walls. A fancy bar had been set up in the back of the room. Dean Lampton's massive cherry wood desk sat next to an equally massive window displaying the type of ocean view that could take a person's breath away.

  "Thanks, Shauna," Dean said to the woman who'd shown me in. She closed the door and Dean offered me a seat.

  "No thanks, I'll stand."

  He smirked and said, "As you will," and leaned against his desk. "Now, what can I do for you?"

  My nerves suddenly shot up. I cleared my throat. "I want to know what you can tell me about Russell Hudson's death."

  I could feel Dean's eyes burning into my skull as he tried to figure me out. "You're the girl Colt is dating. The one who made him miss picking me up on the ferry the other day."

  "That's right," I said, holding my head up high.

  Dean smiled lightly. "I can only tell you what I'm sure Colt has already told you himself. Russ was murdered by a vampire. His body drained of blood."

  "Terri Hudson told me Russell's body was ripped to pieces. Colt said he'd never heard that before."

  Dean's smile faded slightly. "That's right. I forgot. Forgive me. When Colt was a child, I chose not to burden him with the gruesome details of his father's death. I simply told him the body was drained and his father felt no pain."

  "And now?"

  "I'm sorry?"

  "Colt's not a child anymore. Why keep lying to him?"

  A shadow passed over Dean's face. "It's not a lie, Ms. Fortune. The body was first drained, then dismembered. Satisfied?"

  "Why would they dismember the body? Vampires don't usually do that, do they?"

  "No, they don't. We took it as a sign."

  "A sign?"

  "A warning."

  "About what?"

  Something about Dean's answers didn't feel right. It was like he was answering my questions while trying to be evasive at the same time, and it was making my head hurt. Dean sighed and rubbed his temples. It didn't seem genuine, though. Everything about our conversation felt like he was putting on a show.

  "If I tell you something, Ms. Fortune, can you keep it between us?"

  "That depends."

  "On what?"

  "On what it is, obviously."

  He smiled again and took a seat. "Please," he said, indicating the seat across from him. I relented and sat down. The floors in his office were hard, and I was only wearing sandals.

  "Colt's father did a lot of undercover work for The Council."

  I had to force my jaw to stay closed. A million questions ran through my head. "Undercover?" I finally asked.

  "That's right. We know it was a vampire who killed him, but we were never able to identify who precisely. We had our ideas, but never any evidence to back them up."

  "So, Russell was undercover when he was killed?"

  "That's right. You mentioned the Cult of V, so I presume you know their mission?"

  "To kill and enslave every man, woman, child, and witch."

  "Exactly. Russell Hudson was one of our best detectives. He infiltrated the cult and was supplying us with information. But his true identity was uncovered and he was dispatched."

  Dispatched.

  It sounded like Russell was sent to his room instead of dismembered.

  "Why doesn't Colt or his mom know any of this?"

  "At the time, it was too dangerous. The dismemberment you asked about was a warning to us that they knew the truth. They knew who Russell was and were ready to kill his family as well. It took all our efforts to keep them safe, and they never even knew. Can you imagine the fear it would have instilled in a twelve-year-old boy and his mom?"

  "But they have a right to know the truth!"

  "They have a right to know what I want them to know," Dean snapped back. "I am the Head of the Council on Magic and Human Affairs. I decide who knows what and when. You have no right to question me. I did what I had to do."

  "But what if you're wrong? Or does the great head of COMHA never make a mistake?"

  I knew I'd gone too far. His eyes glazed over and turned dark.

  "You don't know the first thing about me or what we do here. If you did, you would know better than to speak to me like that. I can have you wiped from this Earth in the blink of an eye if I choose to."

  My heart hammered in my chest. "Was that a threat?"

  "Yes. Stop asking questions about Russell Hudson. He's dead. Let him stay that way."

  He rose from the chair. I jumped out of mine.

  "Leave and don't come back. You're not welcome here."

  I left the room and hurried to catch the next ferry. I wanted to get as far away from COMHA headquarters as possible. Once the boat started moving and
Heavenly Haven came into sight, I felt safe again. But I couldn't sleep that night. I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to sleep again. Dean Lampton was supposed to be protecting us. But who would protect us from Dean Lampton?

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  CHAPTER

  FIFTEEN

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  I tried all night to wrap my head around everything that had happened and couldn't quite do it. Why would Dean Lampton want me to lie to Colt about his father? It couldn't just be for Colt's protection. He was a grown man, for witch's sake.

  My father offered me coffee in the morning. I drank three cups.

  "Tired much?" he asked.

  I tried to smile but my lips just wouldn't work right. "I guess so," I finally told him. Trixie and Eleanor were at the bakery well ahead of us, as usual. I was supposed to be a partner, not just an employee. They'd given me my mom's share of the property, but I often felt like they did more actual baking than I did. Then again, I was a mood extractor like my mother. My talents weren't necessarily with frostings and cakes.

  Sheriff Knoxx came in around ten and Eleanor handed him a small, bubblegum pink box. He kissed her lightly and for the first time, it occurred to me that I had no idea where they were going to live after the wedding. So, I asked.

  Trixie and my father had been busy refilling the display trays from the baking ones. They both paused and looked at Eleanor and the sheriff when I posed my question. I could tell that it had never entered their minds, either. We were so used to living together as one big family that we couldn't imagine being split up.

  "Oh, well... " Eleanor blushed.

  I could see Trixie trying to read her mind. She couldn't, really. She wasn't clairvoyant or anything—in fact, of all the time I'd spent on Heavenly Haven, I wasn't sure I'd met anyone who was truly clairvoyant. Anastasia Peacock had come close. She could see the future at times and sometimes it seemed as though she could read minds, but I didn't really think she could. Not in the traditional sense, at least.

  Sheriff Knoxx and Eleanor exchanged a look and she finally said, "I'm going to move in with Zane after the wedding."

  My father remained calm but Trixie grew visibly shaken. They hadn't been separated in forty-odd years.

  "That's... lovely," Trixie said. Her face was turning purple. "Excuse me a moment, I need to check on my O-negative frosting." She ran into the back, wiping a tear from her eye as she went.

  Eleanor sighed. "I'd better go talk to her. It's a good thing we're in a lull at the moment." She followed Trixie into the back and left Sheriff Knoxx alone with me and my dad.

  "Don't worry," my father told him, "Trixie will get over it."

  Sheriff Knoxx nodded and opened the box Eleanor had given him. He shoved a peanut butter dream bar into his mouth whole and swallowed it in two gulps. Then he went for another one.

  His radio crackled. "Sheriff Knoxx, this is Otis. Otis Winken."

  Sheriff Knoxx let out an audible sigh and picked up his radio.

  "Go ahead, Otis. Over."

  "Uh, Tadpole wanted me to tell you that he's sorry. Over."

  Sheriff Knoxx grabbed another peanut butter dream bar and took a giant bite. "Tell him it's all right, Otis. I understand. It's only natural that he should mistake my shoe laces for a snake. It could happen to anyone. Over."

  There was a moment of silence and then Otis came back over the radio. "Tadpole says thank you for being so understanding. He's still learning."

  "Okay, Otis. Over and out."

  "Over and out."

  Sheriff Knoxx held his box out to me. It was half empty now. "Do you think I could get a refill before I go?"

  "Sure," I said, smiling and taking the box from him. I filled it until it almost couldn't shut and handed it back. There was a yelp from the back room followed by the sound of baking pans being thrown around.

  Trixie yelled, "O-negative is too a type of frosting!"

  My dad looked warily at the door to the back. "I better check on them," he said and hurried back there.

  "I'd better go." Sheriff Knoxx said but didn't actually move. "There was something I wanted to ask you about, Ava. That book you asked me about, Forgotten Spells and Lineages, you didn't happen to borrow it from the evidence room. Did you?"

  The question was so straightforward that for a moment I didn't know what to say. "What would make you think that?"

  "It seems to be moving around the station. On its own. I thought maybe it was having some help, only no one wants to own up to it."

  "Maybe it's haunted?" I offered, no idea whether books could be haunted or not.

  His eyes seemed to brighten. "Good point. I'll contact Amanda Hollyberry. Maybe she can check it out for me."

  He turned to leave, satisfied, just as Colt came in. He looked haggard. His hair was disheveled. His clothes were rumpled. Normally, Colt dressed as though he'd stepped out of the pages of a magazine

  "Coming into the station later?" the sheriff asked him.

  "What for?" Colt snapped "There haven't been any more break-ins. And even if there were, it's not as though I could do anything about it."

  "What do you mean?" the sheriff asked.

  "Nothing. I need to talk to Ava." He glared at me from across the room.

  Uh oh. He knew I'd gone to see Dean. And he was mad. Sheriff Knoxx must have sensed the approaching storm and high-tailed it out of there. The second he was gone, Colt rounded on me.

  "Have you lost your mind?" he asked.

  "According to a few people who know me..."

  "Don't make jokes, Ava. Not now. Do you have any idea what you've done? How could you go to see my boss and not tell me? It was bad enough you interrogated my mother."

  "Colt, I'm sorry, but I didn't know what else to do. You wouldn't listen."

  "Yeah, and now I know why. You're a crazy person."

  The swing door to the back opened a few inches and three sets of eyes peered out at us with curiosity. I shot them a warning look, and they immediately retreated into the back once more.

  "Listen to me. I was right. Dean Lampton has been hiding things from you. Your father wasn't just working on any old assignment. He was an undercover agent."

  Colt's face paled for a moment. "Dean Lampton told you that?" I nodded. "Did he also tell you that by revealing that to you, he was revealing top secret information? Information he felt you got out of him using threats."

  "He said I threatened him?" I squealed, outraged. "That's a total lie. Colt. He threatened me. That man is scary."

  "He's also my boss, Ava."

  "Yeah, well, he shouldn't be."

  "Well, you should be happy to know that your wish came true then."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Dean Lampton fired me."

  My mouth hung open like a dog with his head out the window.

  "H-he fired you?"

  Colt nodded. His face was flushed.

  "He can't do that."

  "He can and he did."

  "But... why?"

  "Funny thing, Ava. The head of the Council on Magic and Human Affairs doesn't seem to like it when girlfriends of agents swing by to interrogate him and make threats."

  "I didn't threaten him!"

  "But you did go see him."

  Tears began to well in my eyes. What had I done? Had I just made a huge mistake?

  "Yes," I said, "but Colt..."

  "No, Ava. No more 'buts.' I'm through with this. With you. You can't just go around doing what you want when you want. It doesn't work that way. There are rules that need to be followed, and there are consequences for not following them."

  "But... I love you."

  The tension on Colt's face loosened for a moment. He looked sad. I wanted to wrap my arms around him. I'd bake him a million cookies if I thought it would help.

  "I love you, too, Ava. But that's just not enough."

  * * *

  CHAPTER

&n
bsp; SIXTEEN

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  I left the bakery early and sat in my room, crying. This was all my fault.

  I wasn't sure whether word had spread through Sweetland Cove's gossip mill—who would care about my love life besides me? —or if Aunt Eleanor had called Lucy, but early in the evening she showed up at my house toting a French vanilla latte with a shot of calming extract I'd given her for Christmas.

  "What's up?" Lucy asked, her usual cheery self.

  "Nothing. Go away."

  She shoved the latte into my hands. "Drink it," she commanded.

  Snowball was curled at my feet. "Drink it, Mama," she echoed. I sighed and took a sip. Almost immediately, the tears began to slow. Three sips later, and I was actually smiling.

  "Now tell me everything. Is it true? Did you and Colt really break up?"

  I leaned back on my bed and covered my face with my pillow. "I interrogated his boss," I moaned.

  "What? You have pillow voice right now. I can't hear anything you say."

  I lifted the pillow. "I interrogated his boss."

  Lucy's eyes widened. "Dean Lampton?"

  I nodded. "And I may have... kinda sorta... made Colt's mom cry."

  Lucy's eyes turned to saucers. "You made your boyfriend's mom cry?"

  "It was an accident."

  "What were you doing? Peeling onions?"

  "I was sort of asking about her husband's death. Colt's dad." Lucy looked at me cross-eyed. "In my defense, she had important information. So did Dean Lampton. It's not my fault he fired Colt."

  "You actually got Colt fired? No wonder he's mad. If I were him, I'd break up with you, too."

  I threw my pillow at her.

  "We only had one date," I told her. "It's not a big deal."

  "Yeah, right. Unless you count all those stakeouts in his car. All those investigations you made together. If you added all those up, you've had, like, a thousand and one dates."