Murder Any Witch Way: A Brimstone Bay Mystery (Brimstone Bay Mysteries Book 1)

by N. M. Howell

  “I’ll get them,” Zack offered, and left me alone again with my thoughts. I snapped open my laptop and immediately started typing frantically into the search bar, hoping to find any more information on the symbol. Riley mentioned it was simply called the mark, which made it difficult to pinpoint in any Google search. But after inputting a few detailed keywords describing the shape, the page became flooded with articles about the occult and the paranormal. I added the words modern times to the search, in hopes that I could find something about whether the symbol is still used throughout the modern witch society. The search came up dry, which I took as a good sign.

  Zack returned a few minutes later accompanied by Sheriff Reese and Mayor Scott. The tiny office was crowded, but they all sat around my desk, eager for me to fill them in.

  “Well?” Sheriff Reese said expectantly. “What have you got?”

  I opened one of the better Google images I could find and sent it to print. The mayor reached for the paper as it spat out from the printer, and placed it on the desk in front of us.

  “That’s exactly it!” The sheriff looked impressed. “What does it mean?”

  “It dates back a few centuries,” I said, choosing my words cautiously. “It was used as a sort of marker. The symbol meant that you were marked to be cursed.”

  Zack laughed. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” I stared at him, eyes narrowing. How he could find this funny was beyond me.

  “You don’t actually believe in curses, do you?” He rolled his eyes at the idea. I could feel Mayor Scott’s eyes on me, but I avoided making eye contact and just stared incredulously at Zack. I forgot this detail about him. Despite having lived in New York City, he didn’t believe in witches. At least, not that he would admit.

  “Obviously, someone is trying to take advantage of people’s stupidity,” he said, matter-of-factly. “Just trying to spook people.”

  “Stupidity is right,” I spat at him. Although, his blatant denial about the existence of witches could actually help our case. The last thing we needed was people believing us to be responsible.

  Sheriff Reese shook his head. “No, that doesn’t make sense. No one recognized the symbol, so using it as a scare tactic seems pointless. I imagine there’s some sort of dark magic behind this, whether you choose to believe that or not.” Well, shit.

  “I don’t know,” I began. “In my research, I couldn’t find any recent precedent for it. The symbol seemed to have disappeared with the dark witch communities centuries ago.”

  Zack’s mouth hung open. “Oh come on, River. Don’t tell me you believe in all of this nonsense, too.”

  Poor, stupid little man.

  “Nonsense or not,” I said to him, “we know exactly what the symbol means. Or meant, at least, at one point in history. We just need to figure out what the heck it’s doing on a body of a thirteen-year-old girl in the 21st century.”

  “Whether it was intended as a scare tactic or actually meant to mark her as cursed, the fact that the body was left to be found in such a location suggests the killer wanted the message to be known.” Mayor Scott had a point.

  “What do we put in the paper?” I wanted to make sure we were all on the same page.

  “Leave out the symbol,” the sheriff said. “Just lay out the basics, who she was, where she was found, and mention that the case is ongoing, and we will have more information soon.”

  “I think it’s too late to keep the symbol secret,” I muttered. “Rumor seems to have spread already.”

  Mayor Scott sighed. “Brimstone Bay is good for that.”

  “Just do your best to keep the article as clean and to the point as possible. Don’t add fuel to the fire,” the sheriff said. “I’ve got a telephone meeting with the local police from her hometown this evening. Hopefully, we can get to the bottom of this before things get out of hand. The last thing we need is for the town to think we have murderous witches on the loose.”

  “Murderous people pretending to be witches,” Zack corrected. For once, I was thankful for his stupidity.

  “Either way,” I said. “We need to find the killer before anyone else is hurt.”

  “Or killed,” the mayor added.

  We stared at each other, fear in both of our eyes. “Or killed,” I agreed.

  I jumped as the door creaked open, and JoAnn walked into the office.

  “Oh lovely,” she said, sarcastically. “Thanks for the invitation.”

  Sheriff Reese checked his watch and stood up. “Sorry Jo, last minute meeting. I’ve gotta run, the girl’s parents are due to arrive tonight, and I need to make arrangements. River will fill you in.” He shook Mayor Scott’s and Zack’s hands, patted JoAnn on the shoulder, and walked out of the office.

  I let out a loud, exasperated sigh. JoAnn looked at me expectantly, but I stood up as well. “I’m sorry JoAnn, I really do have to go. Do you mind if Zack fills you in?”

  At least this way Zack would explain it to her in such a way that kept the witch community out of it. She nodded, and I grabbed my bag to leave.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow morning,” I said. “Zack, we can compare notes tomorrow and get the article finished in the morning.”

  He nodded, and I waved goodbye, thankful for the opportunity to get out of the office.

  “Come meet me in my office tomorrow so we can talk further,” Mayor Scott said as I walked out of the room. I nodded my agreement and left.

  I took the long way home as an excuse to stop by the haunted house.

  I leaned against the same fence next to the one open window and pretended to be on my phone as I called Jessica’s name.

  She immediately turned up at the window, and I smiled. She smiled back at me.

  “Hello again,” I said warmly.

  “Hi.”

  “How have you been doing?” I asked, regretting it immediately. The girl was dead in a strange house; how did I think she was doing?

  She shrugged at me.

  “Your parents are going to be coming to town tonight,” I told her. She looked like she was going to cry.

  “They know I’m dead?” she asked, sniffing.

  I nodded. “Yes, they do.”

  “Can I see them?” she asked, hopefully.

  I sighed. “Well, sweetheart, you’re a ghost. They won’t be able to see you.”

  “But you see me,” she said.

  I nodded. “Yes, but that’s because I’m different. Most people can’t see or talk to ghosts.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’m so sorry, Jessica,” I said, my heart breaking all over again. “The only thing we can do for them now is to help solve the case about your murder. Answers are the only thing at this point that will give them peace.”

  “Ok.”

  “I need your help. I need you to try and remember everything you can from before you died. Can you do that for me?”

  She nodded. “I can try. I don’t remember anything, though.”

  I sighed. “You said you remember putting up decorations with your mom. Do you remember seeing anybody else that night?”

  I waited while she scrunched her face, trying to remember. She shrugged, and looked as if she was going to cry again.

  “Okay, don’t worry about it. I know it’s hard,” I said. Then I got an idea. “I’m going to go home and see if I can figure out how to jog your memory. I’ll be back.”

  “Can I come?” she asked. I paused. I guess I never really thought of that.

  “Uh, sure,” I said. “I don’t see why not. My friends at home are different, too. They’ll be able to see and speak with you.”

  She beamed at me. “Really?”

  I nodded, happy that I could at least offer her that much. “Yep, they’re really nice. You’ll like them.”

  She stepped through the wall of the haunted house, and I finally got to get a better look at the ghost. I noticed that the girl’s mouth looked normal - no scars or stitches like her body had. Strange, I wonder what that meant?

&nbs
p; “What are you looking at?” she asked me, retreating slightly from my blatant staring.

  “Nothing, sorry. Do you mind turning around for me?”

  Jessica twirled around, and through her torn dress I saw the scars that marked the symbol on her back.

  I swallowed hard, trying not to let my emotions show on my face. The symbol must have been carved into her back while she was still alive.

  “What is it?” she asked, after twirling around a few times.

  “Nothing at all,” I lied to her. “Let’s go.”

  We walked in silence through the side streets, the sun slowly setting below the houses behind us.

  “Oh look, is that a full moon?” she asked, looking up to the sky.

  I looked up to the moon. “It sure is.”

  12

  The sky was black by the time we made it back to the house. I knocked on Mrs. Brody’s door, figuring she might have an idea of how to better approach triggering Jessica’s memory.

  “Come in, come in,” I heard Mrs. Brody’s muffled voice call from within her apartment.

  I glanced at Jessica, then opened the door and led the way inside.

  “Well, well, well,” Mrs. Brody said as she joined us in the kitchen. “Who do we have here?”

  By the look on her face, I assumed she already knew.

  “Mrs. Brody, this is Jessica Sturgess,” I said, stepping aside so she could get a better look at the ghost.

  Jessica stared at her feet shyly.

  “Hello Jessica,” she said warmly, stepping closer to the ghost. “My name is Agnes. It’s wonderful to meet you.”

  I blinked and then laughed out loud to myself. In the entire time I’ve lived here, I never even knew her first name. I smirked.

  Mrs. Brody waggled her finger at me. “It’s still Mrs. Brody to you, missy.”

  I nodded. “Whatever you say, Mrs. Brody.” I looked down at Jessica and winked, which made her laugh. That made me smile. The more comfortable she was around us, the more likely she would be to remember.

  I sat down at the kitchen table and looked seriously at Mrs. Brody. “She can’t remember anything about what happened to her, and if we don’t find out who did this to her soon, then we’re all going to be in big trouble.”

  Mrs. Brody looked at me. “Yes, dear, I imagine we will be.”

  “Is there anything we can do to help kick start her memories?”

  She walked to the kitchen window and peered out at the sky. “Lucky for us, it’s a full moon tonight. I know just the thing, but we’d better hurry. Go get the girls. I’ll prepare.” She then walked out and left us alone in the kitchen.

  “You okay to stay here a few minutes while I go upstairs?” I asked.

  Jessica nodded.

  I ran upstairs as fast as my feet could carry me, and rounded up my three housemates. They followed me downstairs without question and looked confused when they all gathered around the kitchen table and saw Jessica’s ghost standing nearby.

  “Girls, meet Jessica,” I said.

  Jessica smiled timidly.

  Rory smiled. “Hello Jessica, my name is Rory. This is Jane and Bailey.” She motioned to the other girls in turn.

  Jane smiled, but Bailey stared wide-eyed at the girl, then turned to me. “Is that the girl who was murdered?”

  I nodded. “We’re going to help her remember things, so we can solve the case and be done with it.”

  Mrs. Brody came back into the room with a large, heavy-looking basket. “Grab your coats, it looks a bit chilly outside.”

  I eyed her suspiciously, unsure as to what she had planned. But I knew better than to ask, so I grabbed my sweater from my bag obligingly and followed her outside.

  She took us down through the long back yard, to the steep wooden stairway that led down the rocky bluffs to the beach below. We all followed in silence, then took our shoes off when we arrived at the bottom of the stairs. The sand was wet and cold between my toes.

  Mrs. Brody led us to the fire pit just beyond the bluffs, and with a snap of her fingers, a large bonfire appeared from the ashes.

  “Whoa, how did she do that?” Jessica asked, stepping back away from the fire. I guessed I was going to have to explain a few things before we began so she didn’t get spooked. I didn’t imagine they had very many witches where she came from.

  “You know how I said we were different back when we were talking at the haunted house?” I asked.

  She chewed her lip but nodded.

  “Well, the reason we can see and talk to you is because we have magic.” I smiled and then motioned to the fire. “Like what Agnes just did there with the fire.”

  Her eyes grew wide as she looked back and forth between me and the fire.

  “Some small towns don’t really know much about it,” I added. “But lots of people have magic. We just don’t flaunt it in public.”

  Rory noticed the scared look on her face and added, “It’s okay. It’s good magic. No need to be scared. We can do stuff like make things fly and sparkle.”

  She looked over to Bailey, who squinted her eyes at the fire. It began to change color. Pink, blue, and purple flames sparkled and twirled around in the fire pit, looking like a shimmery rainbow.

  “Whoa,” Jessica said again, this time looking genuinely impressed.

  “Come girls, around the fire now,” Mrs. Brody sat down cross-legged on the other side of the fire and motioned for us to sit in a circle. “Jessica, too.”

  “What are you doing, exactly?” I asked.

  “Recalling our memories,” she replied, her eyes closed tight in concentration.

  “What do you mean our memories?” Bailey asked. “We just need Jessica’s.”

  “It doesn’t work that way, dear,” Mrs. Brody replied. “It’s all or nothing. Hope none of you have anything to hide.”

  We eyed each other nervously. I didn’t have anything to hide, but I really didn’t like the idea of my memories being put on display for all to see.

  “But,” Bailey protested.

  Mrs. Brody shushed her. “We may witness premonitions as well. Stay focused.”

  We all sat around the fire in silence, watching her at work. With her eyes closed, she reached into her basket and brought out different herbs one at a time, sniffing each one to make sure she had the right one. She then proceeded to crush them between her palms and sprinkled them over the fire. She muttered an incantation under her breath, too low for me to make out what she was saying.

  After about ten minutes, she had completed her ritual and opened her eyes. “Ok now, I need you grab hold of each other’s hands and form a complete circle.”

  I glanced at Jessica, who I knew wouldn’t be able to physically hold our hands, and placed my hand palm open beside her. She lay her hand over the top of mine and did the same to Mrs. Brody on her other side.

  “Now close your eyes, and concentrate on a memory. Any memory will do, whatever is strongest.”

  We closed our eyes, and I focused on the memory of cooking potions with my dad as a kid. There was this one time we made a laughing draught and inhaled way too much of the fumes and we laughed solidly for three days. By the time the magic wore off, I swore I had six-pack abs from laughing so hard.

  I felt a warm breeze circling me, blowing my hair into my face. I could feel the magic building around us.

  “Open your eyes,” Mrs. Brody said.

  We did and were amazed at what we saw.

  Different images flickered in the firelight, each only lasting a few moments.

  “Okay now,” Mrs. Brody said quickly. “Each memory will only last a few seconds, so if you recognize it as yours, call it out for us all to hear. With luck, we’ll be able to see Jessica’s memories and hopefully gain some insight as to what happened to the poor dear.”

  Jessica started into the fire, transfixed on the images.

  “That’s Soot,” I said, as an image of my little gray cat appeared in the flames.

  “My sisters,” Jan
e said.

  “That’s my old dog, Baxter,” Rory said as the image of an old bulldog flashed before us.

  “Ryan Bramley,” Bailey said, blushing furiously in the firelight.

  “My dad,” I added.

  “Craig Bramley,” Mrs. Brody said.

  We all eyed her, and she snapped “oh never you mind,” as the image of grey-haired Mr. Bramley passed through the fire. I tried not to giggle.

  “Jordan?” I said questioningly, seeing his face before me. That was weird.

  “My grandpa,” Rory said.

  “Holy crap,” Bailey said, as an image of two elderly people, a man and a woman, appeared in the flames. Their lips were sewn shut, and they stared out at us with sad eyes.

  “Oh gosh,” I muttered. “Please say I just imagined that.” I desperately hoped that didn’t mean what I think it meant. Two more dead bodies, coming our way.

  “Kids I used to babysit,” Jane said as the image changed.

  Jessica screamed suddenly as an image of a person in a black hoodie appeared in the fire.

  I turned to her and asked, “Is that it? Is that the person who killed you?”

  She nodded slowly, eyes transfixed on the shape in front of her.

  I tried to take in everything about the image as I could before it changed. Black shoes, ripped baggy jeans, a black hoodie with the hood up, unfortunately concealing the person’s face…

  “Mrs. Pots,” Bailey said as the image changed.

  “My friend Riley,” I added, as Riley appeared.

  Jessica was shaking. I didn’t even realize ghosts could shake.

  “That’s just about enough, I think,” Mrs. Brody announced, and with a wave of her hand the fire disappeared, leaving a few burning embers behind in the pit.

  I immediately jumped up and ran back up the stairs as fast as I could manage. We could deal with the identity of Jessica’s murderer later. For now, we have two new bodies to look for.

  Once I got back into the house, I grabbed my phone and immediately called Mayor Scott. I could at least tell him about the premonition without him thinking me crazy.

  The phone rang and then went dead. Shit.

  I tried calling again, and the same thing happened. It was only just after midnight, and I figured he would still be awake. I called again, and after the fourth ring he picked up the phone and growled at me. “Not. Now.” He then hung up the phone.