The Midsummer Murders

by Jill Nojack

  Like Twink couldn’t take care of herself just fine. Cassie was teaching her magically enhanced self defense, and Twink had gotten pretty good at shoving a packing box real fast across the floor with almost no effort.

  So yeah, if a cardboard box filled with bubble wrap ever came at her with deadly intent, she was ready for it.

  She rolled her eyes at herself. Maybe she still had some things to learn. But how was she supposed to use her magic to watch out for herself and Marcus if no one ever told her what was going on?

  The four dirty tea cups with their spicy dregs were washed, dried, and put away in minutes. The floor got swept in two heartbeats; the kitchenette was tiny. The counters only needed a quick wipe with a paper towel, and the trash can under the sink was empty until she tossed the towel into it.

  There was still one slice of Gillian’s carrot cake in its sealed plastic tub on the table, so she cleaned that up, too, in three bites. Then she washed the empty container and upended it in the drying rack for Gillian to take home with her later.

  She was still licking frosting off her fingers when she started back toward the front of the shop. Natalie was still talking.

  “What I’m saying is that if we have no research to back up that the absence of magic indicates the presence of magic, I can’t get involved. Robert, like every mayor before him, has always been quite clear on the coven staying out of policy matters when the use of magic isn’t suspected.”

  “I’ll see what I can find in Robert’s library, even though I have no idea where to start. But I suppose you’re right,” Gillian answered.

  Twink entered the main shop as Cassie said, “I don’t see how it can’t be magic, it—”

  Natalie reached out to Cassie’s shoulder as her head bobbed toward Twink.

  Cassie turned and said, “—ummm ... so yeah, the Midsummer Festival should be the best this year if we can get that feeling of magic into the event. And the Saturday afternoon play about the town’s founders that Dash and his troupe have put together will be excellent. I mean, the story of some of the accused families leaving Salem after the trials to start a new settlement, that’s a great story. The part about how the town was created to prevent that kind of intolerance ever happening again. It’s like witch pilgrims, you know? Except most people don’t realize that the families really were witches, including Dash. But intolerance against anyone is what he’s focused on.”

  “Wow!” Twink burst out. “How dumb do you think I am? Witch pilgrims. Really?” She tapped play on the video Mindy had sent her an hour before. “I bet you were talking about this.” She held her phone out toward them. “And I definitely recognize my aunt’s voice. She’ll be all over Daria now about hellfire and damnation for witches. I’ll have to hide from her for like, weeks.”

  “Oh,” Cassie said. “I guess Dash was right. The video did go viral.”

  “So, did a ‘choir member’ do it?” Twink asked, making air quotes as she used the euphemism.

  Natalie’s eyes narrowed in annoyance. “There’s no reason to believe that. I’m not investigating it, if that’s what you’re asking. So don’t harass poor Marcus about it. There’s nothing more to know.”

  Twink’s eyes narrowed to mirror Natalie’s as she snarked, “Like I would harass Marcus. That’s your job! Anyway, we’re babysitting tonight for the Holgerson kids. It’s not like we’d talk about stuff like that in front of Dahlia. That kid is a sponge on steroids. She soaks up everything.”

  “Yes,” Natalie agreed. “So just make sure you don’t. Dahlia is vulnerable.”

  Twink looked at the time on the phone she still held in her left hand. “Whatever. Like I don’t know that. I’m out of here. My shift is over.”

  She turned to the door, and four pairs of coal black eyes looked in. At least the bird’s eyes focused on Natalie this time. She pushed the door open, shouting, “Get out of here!”

  They took wing as one at her command.

  ***

  Mama Ella Barton had never liked Josie, who barely glanced her way as she passed Ella and her cart in the hall. For one, Josie came from a Salem witching family, and Ella was sure the girl was one of them.

  Ella herself had been lucky. The magic in her own family had skipped her and her girls. Her niece Twink was a different matter. She wasn’t happy to have the girl in town; she’d been tarred with Satan’s brush in the same way that Ella’s own mother had been.

  Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live. That’s what the Bible said. And Ella believed it. There was nothing she could do about them yet except sound the alarm. Things would change soon when the elderly mayor retired. Alderman Thomas would surely win his place and the tone of this town, it was gonna change.

  But theft, she could do something ‘bout that despite the protected status of the town’s witches. And she had just seen Josie Caldwell sneaking out of a resident’s room with somethin’ in her pocket. Somethin’ that didn’t belong to her, like the things that had been missing from Tildy Bentwhistle’s possessions. She’d been trying to catch Josie up to her tricks when she went under the police tape, but she’d found something what was worse instead. Somethin’ that everyone needed to be shown.

  Now no one could ignore the evil. Everyone had seen it. Catching a thieving witch in the act now would ice the cake.

  She entered Herbert Grazer’s room and immediately saw what was missing; the box of World War II medals that had been displayed on his dresser had been his pride and joy back when he could still remember what they were and who he was. He’d lost that ability most of the time now, and being one of his care-takers, Josie would know that. She’d stolen the man’s history, his identity, because he wouldn’t be able remember they’d ever been there.

  Ella left her cart outside his room and rushed down the hallway to Nurse Barnes’s office. With luck, Josie could be stopped before she made it out of the building.

  ***

  “Hey guys! I’m almost ready to go.” Jenny Holgerson smiled at Twink and then at Marcus as she opened the door to them.

  Twink hugged her before following her inside and saying, “You look killer. Hold out for a doctor or a lawyer.” Jenny was pretty and in her mid-twenties, and although she’d had triplets only a few months ago, Twink thought her shape looked just fine in a black sheath dress with heels and hose. Her tummy was still kinda big, but yeah, she looked good. Guys would definitely notice her.

  Jenny laughed. “It’s only a night out with some girlfriends.”

  “Yeah, a night away from Giles.” Twink sighed. “Wish I could come.”

  “We should go shopping in Boston sometime,” Jenny said. “Well, window shopping for me. With what my mom left me, we’re good for a while, but Butch is refusing to contribute until the divorce is final and the courts make him pay, so things will be tight until the girls are a little older and I can get a job. The money has to last.”

  “That’s why I told you to hold out for a doctor!”

  Jenny laughed at that.

  “Nice to know men are just paychecks to you guys,” Marcus said, giving Twink’s hand a squeeze.

  “Never,” Twink said fiercely, squeezing back.

  “Definitely not,” Jenny agreed. “Twink’s lucky she’s got a good one.” She glanced at the wall clock. "Okay, I’m running late, like usual. The triplets are in their room. Dahlia’s reading a bedtime story to Daisy and Delphie, although they’ll wake up for a feeding in about three hours. Dahlia’s had her dinner, but she’ll want some of your pizza, and she’ll need something again about the same time as the others. She’s still growing like crazy.”

  “Finish getting ready,” Marcus said. “We’ll go say hi.”

  When Twink stood beside Marcus in the open door to the triplet’s bedroom, Twink confirmed Jenny wasn’t kidding that Dahlia was still growing like crazy. Super crazy. Even though she was the same age as her sisters, who were babies born a few months ago, she looked like a six-year-old. When she and Marcus visited the girls last week, she’d be
en at least three inches shorter and had a lot more baby fat.

  Dahlia’s blond head bobbed as she sounded out some of the harder words in the book she was reading. They would have been difficult for Twink, too, since it was one of Marcus’s Honors Physics additional reading assignments from last school year.

  “Hey Dahlia,” Marcus called when she stopped to breathe.

  “Marcus, Marcus, Marcus!” the little girl looked up and shrieked as she ran to him, her golden eyes glowing, to let herself be scooped up in a hug.

  The kid loved him. She would follow him anywhere. Which Twink didn’t mind, except that Natalie said she’d continue growing at her insane rate until her body reached adolescence, when it finally caught up with her magic, and she could learn to control it.

  Twink adored her as much as Marcus did, but in the back of her mind she was already preparing for Dahlia to be a competitor for his affection. Which made her feel kind of gross, really. She was only a little girl!

  Okay, she reminded herself, a magically enhanced little girl who was going to be a teenager by the end of the summer and who could keep up with Marcus intellectually in a way Twink never would.

  And Dahlia was also a sphinx. Which Marcus found fascinating. Natalie had suppressed her sphinx form until Dahlia could learn how to suppress it herself, but someday she’d own that, too. So Dahlia was an adorable kid who was also part lion and part bird. Kind of a winning combination all around, if your mind was open to it, which Marcus definitely was. He mostly took magic in stride, but he was totally geeky when it came to mythical creatures. Dahlia’s being able to transform into a sphinx again once she came into her magic would be an even bigger enticement than how brainy she was.

  Twink pushed back at her thoughts and stooped to hug the little girl with the liony eyes after Marcus set her down. She relaxed as Dahlia snuggled against her, giggling.

  She loved the kid. Come on! Why was she so jealous of everyone female lately? Next, she’d be eyeballing Natalie to make sure she wasn’t a foster cougar instead of a foster grandmother.

  ***

  Janie was taken aback when Josie opened the door, practically shouting, “And what do you want?”

  “Geez, Josie, I just stopped by to return the bottle. I couldn’t get it open. Here.” She shoved it at her sister and turned to go.

  “Sorry.” Josie said, calmer. “Come in. I thought you were the police. That stupid cleaner! Accusing me of theft. Do you believe it?”

  Definitely not a hallway conversation.

  Janie followed Josie into the living room, where they sat on opposite ends of the couch, perched on the edge, knees turned in to each other so that they were facing. Josie was pink with anger, her hands shaking.

  “Calm down, Jo. Tell me what happened.”

  “I was minding my own business when Nurse Barnes and that Ella Barton come barreling down the hall demanding that I empty my bag and my pockets. They said I stole ol’ Cap Grazer’s service medals. I was so embarrassed! Everyone was looking.”

  “So you didn’t take them?”

  “Of course not! I told you I don’t do that anymore. They even opened my locker and picked through all my things. But they got nada.”

  “Then what are you worried about?”

  “Mama B will never let it go. She’ll be spying on me all the time now. And, like I said, I wouldn’t be surprised if the cops show up.”

  “They wouldn’t have let you go home if they were going to call the cops, right?” She tried to sound reassuring. “I think you’re off the hook.”

  “Maybe,” Josie said, sounding calmer now. “You might be right. I mean, why would anyone take the word of that interfering, bible-thumping Mama Barton over me?”

  “Yeah, I mean, plus, as long as there’s nothing stolen sitting around here, you’d be okay even if they did come and question you. I mean, you don’t have anything like that, do you?”

  Josie’s eyes darted to the bottle Janie had set on the coffee table and then back up as she said, “Of course there’s nothing like that! Why don’t you ever believe me?”

  “I do believe you, I’m just saying—”

  “Get out! I don’t need your negativity.”

  “Fine.”

  But as she left, she knew Josie might be in it deep if the cops showed up with a search warrant. She loved her sister, but leaving valuable things where Josie could get hold of them was never a good idea.

  ***

  The nerve of Janie to assume she’d be in trouble if the cops dropped by! Like Josie didn’t know how to hide things well enough to fool the idiots who passed for law enforcement in Giles.

  She was great at hiding things. And she didn’t have that much stuff right now. She never kept it long. It went right up for auction under an assumed name.

  Josie had shown up right when she got into the house after work, so she hadn’t had time to get out of her work clothes. She was totally uncomfortable with a bunch of metal shoved up under her breasts into her bra so that the lumps wouldn’t show through her clothes. It had made her extra annoyed with her sister. Why did Janie always assume the worst about her?

  She retrieved the medals as she changed out of her aide’s uniform and shoved them into the pillowcase on her single bed. The perfume bottle went in, too.

  There. Solved. They weren’t going to tear up her place for a bunch of junk that wasn’t even worth five hundred dollars. They’d only ask her about it. Maybe act a little threatening. She knew the drill; Josie was not going to get caught again.

  ***

  “I’ll get it! It’s the pizza,” Jenny called as she rushed out of her room to the front door with her wallet in hand in response to the door bell. Twink followed to help with the food.

  But when Jenny opened the door, the pizza guy was taking a box out of the back seat of his car and a large black crow was standing on the landing instead. It tilted its head to the side as though it was evaluating her.

  Even in Giles, a crow can’t ring a doorbell and ask to be invited in, Twink thought. The pizza guy must have rung and then gone back out to the car.

  She said, “Are you kidding? You’ve got crows bugging you here, too? I thought it was only downtown where they’ve been making problems. There pigeons have even moved on from in front of the shop because there’s so many crows around.”

  “This is the first one I’ve seen,” Jenny said.

  The pizza guy stood several feet away from the small open porch, staring at the large bird that blocked his path, clearly not willing to advance until it was gone.

  Twink’s shrill shout of, “Get out of here!” solved the problem. The pizza guy ducked as it flew away over his head.

  With Jenny dressed and ready to go, Twink couldn’t wait to dig in. The pizza smelled amazing. She opened the box in the kitchen and Dahlia plopped into the seat next to her at the table.

  Dahlia’s face was somber when she said, “He was waiting for his orders, Mommy,” before she bit into her pizza and a big smile bloomed across her face. “I love peeperooni.”

  “Pepperoni, honey,” her mother said as she made a last tour to make sure she had everything. “And why was the pizza guy waiting for orders?”

  “No, the crow.”

  “And why would a crow wait for orders?”

  “Because it has to.”

  “I see this is another one of your stories.”

  Dahlia’s eyes rolled, and she let out a frustrated sigh.

  Jenny smiled and winked at Twink. “It’s easy to see your influence on my daughter. At least she’ll have her snark up to date in time for her early adolescence.” She turned back to Dahlia. “Well, whose orders was it waiting for?”

  “Her orders.” Dahlia took another bite of her pizza, signaling the conversation was done.

  “Her who?” Jenny asked. “Twink?”

  Dahlia finished chewing and swallowing her pizza before she said in an exasperated tone, “I don’t know her name. But she likes sparkly red stones just like Twink
does.”

  Jenny looked at Twink, or more specifically, at her hair adornment, with a silent request. Twink’s hand moved to the comb that held her hair swept up on the side. She removed it and shook her curls out. Jenny had asked them not to encourage the fantastical stories Dahlia had begun creating to tell her sisters. She got worked up about them and sometimes had nightmares. No more updo today.

  She stowed the comb away in her bag, enjoying the pleasant tingle of magic against her palm as she did.

  8

  “Come on, Josie, wake up! I forgot my travel mug last night, and I want to take it to work today.”

  Janie pounded on the door again, then stopped when a neighbor popped his head out into the hall and said, “Knock it off or I’m calling the manager.”

  “Sorry, sorry.” Janie leaned her dripping umbrella against the door and dug in her purse for the duplicate key. She had one just in case Josie lost hers and needed it, but she didn’t want to use it. Her sister would nuke her if she let herself in without permission. She hoped Josie had gone out early and wasn’t even inside.

  Yeah, right. Josie getting up early. Would not happen. She was probably sleeping off last night’s bottle of wine.

  She opened the door cautiously and stepped inside before she called quietly, “Josie? I’m just here to grab something I forgot.”

  No response.

  She walked to the kitchen and picked up her mug. She wasn’t sure if she should let Josie know she was there or not. She decided that she wouldn’t like it if Josie was in her apartment without letting her know, so she needed to at least leave a note.

  She dug through her purse, then the kitchen drawers. She found a small notepad, but no pen.

  Josie would have one in her bedside table. She liked to underline the juiciest lines in romance novels so she could easily find them again later. Maybe she could sneak it out without waking her.

  Josie’s silent form made a lump in the bed, and Janie tiptoed toward the table to grab the pen.

  But she stopped in her tracks when she saw her sister’s face.

  Janie’s breathing decayed to ragged gasps as the shock took her and she stumbled backwards toward the door, screaming.