The Goodbye Witch

by Heather Blake

  “I don’t suppose one of them popped up on the station’s footage of the evidence locker?” Someone had cast that Mirage Spell.

  “There’s no footage. Apparently the camera to the evidence locker hasn’t worked in months.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “I wish I were.”

  Tingling, but unable to grant that wish, I said, “No other cameras are nearby?”

  “No. An oversight I plan on fixing immediately.”

  Great. Another dead end. “Well, I think any of the Chadwicks are capable of ending Kyle’s life because they loved him and seeing him die a little more every day must have been truly heartbreaking.” I was having a rough time seeing Mrs. P struggle and we weren’t even family. Not by blood at least. “But we have the added factor of someone placing Kyle’s body at Starla’s house. Someone wanted Starla to take the blame. The message on the duct tape was clearly their way of defending Kyle’s reputation.”

  “Someone like one of his parents? I’m not sure I could watch my child suffer like that.”

  The image of terminally ill Mimi flashed through my head and instantly made me queasy. I couldn’t even imagine.

  “Maybe.” It was such a parental thing to do, to defend a child’s reputation. I thought of George and Cora and how distraught they’d been Saturday morning when Kyle was “missing.” I found it hard to believe they had known he was dead in Starla’s brownstone. “I don’t really know how to narrow it down. Did you already offer them immunity?”

  “The offer was made through their attorney, but they haven’t responded yet.” He sighed. “I’ll have to talk to the prosecutor again. If this is a mercy killing, it changes the rules of the deal.”

  “What about Vince?” I asked. “Will he face charges for computer hacking?”

  “Possibly,” Nick said, dragging a hand down his face. “Such a shame. I was rooting for those two.”

  I hadn’t been and now felt guilty that my ill wishes had somehow doomed the relationship. “He was growing on me.” I couldn’t believe he’d thrown it all away.

  “Like fungus?”

  “Something like that,” I mumbled. “It doesn’t matter much now.”

  My heart ached for Starla. This week must have felt like pure hell to her. First Kyle, now Vince. She was betrayed by both of them, albeit in very different ways for very different reasons.

  Nick said, “I need to get going. I have to speak to the prosecutor and explain why Starla and Vince aren’t in jail.” He caressed my cheek. “Are you going to be all right?”

  I pushed my face into his hand and smiled. “I’ll be fine.”

  It was Starla I was worried about.

  * * *

  Later that evening, I took Missy for a walk and tried to clear my head. Snow fell steadily, coating everything in sight in white—including Missy. I’d actually wiggled her into a doggy coat earlier, and she hadn’t been pleased.

  “I bet you’re happy you have that coat now,” I said to her as we crossed the street, headed toward the green.

  Missy looked up at me, and I would have sworn she gave me the doggy equivalent of an evil eye.

  I smiled, adjusted my scarf against the blowing snow and let Missy sniff around. My heart pinged when I saw Mrs. P’s favorite bench, looking stark and lonely. I wished fervently that she’d come streaking out of nowhere, a pink velour blur, hip bump me, and cackle as she said, “Hey, doll.”

  She was the closest thing I’d ever known to a grandmother, and my heart ached thinking about not hearing her laugh or seeing her smile.

  Missy whined and put her paws up on my legs. I wiped my eyes and said, “I’m all right. I’m just . . . not ready to let her go. I just found her, really.” It hadn’t even been a full year.

  Taking a deep breath, I brushed the snow off Missy’s head and said, “Let’s finish our walk and get back.”

  We looped around the ice rink and were just about to head back to the house when I heard, “See, I told you she’s been following us.”

  I turned and found Will and Liam Chadwick strolling toward me.

  With a sneer, Liam said, “She is the Elder’s snoop.”

  Great. Just what I needed. Tag-teamed by the Chadwick brothers.

  Immediately, my temper ignited. “How did I follow you? I was here first.”

  “Were you?” Liam asked, his eyebrow raised.

  I wasn’t in the mood for his riddles.

  “Do you deny you chased me through the village earlier?” Will asked, his eyes looking even bluer than usual in the snowy landscape.

  I couldn’t, so I countered by saying, “Is there some reason you were evading me? I only wanted to ask you some questions.” I narrowed my gaze. “There wouldn’t be any particular reason why you wouldn’t want to answer them, now would there?”

  “What kind of questions?” Liam asked. Snow frosted his shoulders and the simple black hat he wore.

  “Oh, the usual,” I said, scooping up Missy to keep her warm. “Like, how did Kyle become paralyzed? How long had he been terminally ill? And did you know mercy killing was a felony?”

  The brothers stood like stone statues. I’d definitely hit a nerve.

  “We don’t know what you’re talking about,” Liam said.

  I rolled my eyes. “And more lies. I shouldn’t be surprised. I know you two were together at the Cauldron until around nine on Friday night. Then you went to Kyle’s tree house. Did you kill him there? Or carry him to Starla’s and do it there? Nice touch, trying to frame her for the crime, but she’s been completely cleared now. So, epic fail with that.”

  “Stop it,” Will seethed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “What do you mean, cleared?” Liam asked.

  “Surveillance footage gives her an airtight alibi. Unlike for the two of you. Where were you two, exactly, between nine and midnight Friday night?”

  “Together,” Liam said automatically.

  I glanced at Will. He looked pale. “I’m just curious . . . are you selling that same story?”

  “I . . .” he stammered, then clamped his lips closed.

  “Well, you know what they say about curiosity and the cat,” a voice said behind me.

  George Chadwick had come up without me noticing. When he stood next to his boys, he didn’t look nearly as friendly as he had the other day in Wickedly Creative.

  “It’s a good thing I’m not a cat,” I retorted, not liking his tone.

  George glared at me, but said to Will and Liam, “I think it’s time for us to leave. Your mother’s waiting for us. We have a funeral to plan,” he said bitingly.

  Liam stepped toward me. “Just so you know, we were all together Friday night. Mom, Dad, me, Will. And we’ll all vouch for each other. Got it?”

  I got it, all right. They were willing to cover for one another. Never mind that Starla had almost gone to jail because one of them wanted retribution against her. I stepped toward him. “Someone once told me that the truth hurt. Well, I suspect when I figure out what happened Friday night, that those words will come back to haunt him.”

  Liam glared. I glared right back.

  “Come on,” George said, and they all turned their backs on me.

  I held Missy closer and watched them go. “I will figure out what happened.”

  Missy barked, and I set her back on the ground. “Let’s go home.”

  Chapter Twenty-six

  The next morning, I slumped back onto my pillow, wishing I could sleep a few more hours.

  But as I rolled onto my side, tucked under my covers, I listened as grief unfolded in the guest bath next door. Starla had been in the shower a while now, and though she was probably trying to muffle it with the sound of water, I could still hear her sobbing through the wall. It made me want to cry, too.

  Missy lounged at my feet, her gaze firmly on me as though willing me to fix what ailed Starla. Only there was nothing I could do. There was no fixing her broken heart.

  Bypas
sing Missy, Tilda hopped onto my bed. With her tail in the air, she tiptoed toward me and brazenly plopped onto my stomach.

  Her fur was as light as fluff as I scratched her ears and under her chin. Her purrs filled the air and immediately made me feel a little better.

  When the water cut off and the pipes—and Starla’s cries—silenced, Tilda lifted her head and looked at me as if wondering why it was suddenly quiet. She put her head back on my sternum and resumed purring. Her tail swished back and forth across my thighs.

  I eyed the clock and decided I should probably get up. Make some coffee. Pretend everything was normal. The only thing on my to-do was visit Mrs. P. Other than that, my day belonged to Starla.

  The cell phone on my bedside table aaaoooed—Harper’s ringtone—and I reached over and grabbed it.

  Tilda tensed. “Don’t worry,” I said to her. “I won’t tell anyone you’re being nice to me.”

  After narrowing her gaze, she let out a meow and hopped down, slinking out the narrow opening of the bedroom door.

  Missy lifted her head, blinked at me.

  “Cats,” I said to her with a shrug, then answered the phone with a bleary, “Hi, Harper.”

  “Why do you sound sleepy? Are you still in bed?”

  Her incredulity was well earned. It was now almost nine a.m. “Late night.”

  Abruptly, she said, “I saw Vince this morning.”

  “Oh?”

  “He was packing his shop. There’s a FOR SALE sign in the window. He’s leaving town, Darcy. He said it was too hard living in the village alongside Starla without her in his life.”

  My chest ached. “Did he tell her he was moving?”

  “I don’t think so. Maybe someone should.” Unsubtly, she coughed.

  I sighed. “Fine, I’ll tell her.”

  “You’re the best. See you soon.” She hung up.

  I dropped my cell phone on the bed and glanced at Missy. “Sisters,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t know how she ropes me into half the things she does.”

  Missy blinked.

  A tap sounded on the door and Missy hopped to her feet, ready to leap off the bed at a moment’s notice.

  Starla stuck her head in the room. Her hair was wrapped in a towel, and although she was dressed in her froggy pj’s, she’d already applied makeup. Unfortunately, there wasn’t enough concealer in the world to cover the pain etched under her eyes. “Who are you talking to?”

  “Just now? Missy. She’s a good listener.”

  “Is it a private conversation or can I come in?” she asked, a teasing lilt to her voice.

  I patted the empty side of my queen-sized bed. “There’s plenty of room.”

  She rushed inside, pulled back the covers, and slipped in next to me.

  I said, “Rough day yesterday.”

  “Rough week,” she countered.

  “The roughest.”

  “Pepe might be on the right track with his week of discontent,” she said. “I could use a week away from reality with nothing but the TV, books, and my favorite foods and cocktails. Preferably somewhere warm.”

  “I was serious the other day when I said we can make that trip happen.”

  “We should make that happen. Soon.”

  “Where do you want to go? Florida? Bahamas? Mexico?” As much as I wanted Starla to get away for a while, a vacation sounded like heaven to me, too. It had been a hellacious week.

  “Any of them. All of them. But we can’t book it for this weekend, as much as I’d like to get out of here.” She fluffed a pillow. “I’m taking pictures at the dance competition at the Will-o’-the-Wisp and it’s too late to cancel.”

  I gaped at her. “They let you take pictures?”

  “Head and shoulders only.”

  I laughed as the craziness of the event sank in. “Nothing in this village should surprise me anymore.”

  “I hear you.” Her voice took a turn toward the somber.

  I had the feeling she was suddenly thinking about Kyle again and was a little shocked when she said, “I can’t believe Vince is leaving town.”

  “How did you know?”

  “Ve and I saw the sign in his shop window this morning while we were walking the dogs.”

  I couldn’t believe they’d already been out and about. And no wonder she’d been sobbing in the shower. “I’m sorry.”

  “Me, too.” She let out a weary sigh. “Is it bad that I don’t want him to go?”

  I rolled to face her. “Are you saying you’ve forgiven him for the hacking?”

  “I . . . I don’t know.”

  I had to ask. “Are you the least bit concerned about him being a Seeker and other possible motives of his surveillance, not just of you but of the whole village?”

  “I’ve thought about it. How could I not? But Darcy, he’s ready to leave the village because he doesn’t want to live here if he can’t be with me. He loved me enough to lose me in order to give me an alibi. That has to mean something, right?”

  “It means a lot.” After a stretch of silence, I said, “Are you going to talk with him, ask him to stay?”

  “Maybe. He loved me enough to let me go, but I can’t decide if I love him enough to fight for him. Maybe it’s better for all of us if I just let him leave town. One less Seeker to worry about.”

  “Starla, your decision shouldn’t have anything to do with all of us. It should have to do with how you feel and that’s it.”

  “I don’t know how I feel.” She drew the covers up to her chin.

  “Give it time,” I said.

  Flicking a glance at me, she said, “But with him leaving that’s the one thing I don’t have, isn’t it?”

  She had me there.

  * * *

  I took a quick shower, blow-dried my hair, and finally headed downstairs for a much-needed cup of coffee. At this point, a vat of coffee would be nice.

  Humming, Aunt Ve stood at the sink doing dishes. Just beyond her, a mourning dove bobbed its way along the windowsill outside, the beautiful blue ring around its eye shining iridescent in the morning light.

  “Where’d Starla go?” I asked, patting Tilda’s head as she lounged atop the fridge.

  “She and Twink went to visit Mrs. P and then to Hocus-Pocus. Said she felt like she was neglecting her job. Personally”—Ve tucked a loose strand of coppery hair behind her ear—“I’m glad. The sooner she gets back to a semblance of normal, the better.”

  Normal. It was sadly lacking these days.

  As I stirred half-and-half into my coffee, I said, “Do you think there will ever be a semblance of normal again?”

  She shut off the faucet, shook droplets from her hands, and then wiped them on a dish towel. “A new normal perhaps.”

  A new normal. One that included picking up the pieces of this past week.

  “So you know about Vince?”

  “Yeah.” I didn’t mention the sobbing I heard in the shower. His leaving seemed to have hit Starla harder than any of the other blows she’d suffered this week.

  Ve tsked.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I thought he’d fight harder for her, that’s all.”

  Surprise rippled through me. “You want them to get back together?”

  “Perhaps it’s the romantic in me,” she said, twirling around, reminding me again—unfortunately—of the Swing and Sway dance.

  “But he creepily stalked her online.”

  Ve draped the dish towel over the oven handle. “For good reason, no? I want Starla to be happy,” she said. “Vince makes her happy. It’s as simple as that. Is that your phone?” Ve asked, tipping her head, listening.

  It was. I heard it buzzing upstairs and went running. I reached it just before it clicked over to voice mail. Nick.

  “Have I got something to show you,” he said, his voice filled with wonder. “Can you meet me at my house?”

  “Now?” I asked.

  “Can you? I think it’s pretty important.”

  “
Give me ten minutes.”

  “Hurry,” he said.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Wondering what Nick had to show me, I hurried across the village green, practically jogging. I had just turned the corner onto his street when I was greeted by the sight of a galloping puppy being chased by none other than Glinda herself, who limped comically after him.

  “Not again,” I mumbled.

  Clarence stumbled to a stop in front of me, and I reached down and scooped him up. He licked my chin.

  “Some things never change,” I said to him.

  Glinda looked like she’d been put through the wringer and hung out to dry. I’d be surprised if she’d slept or eaten the past couple of days—she appeared almost zombielike, with dark circles beneath her eyes, her cheeks hollowed. She wore the same bathrobe, the same nightgown as yesterday. But at least she’d traded the bunny slippers for a pair of slip-on sneakers.

  “This is becoming tiresome,” she said.

  “I can’t help it if your dog likes me better than you.”

  Anger fired in her eyes, and I was almost glad to see it. It gave her life. Vitality.

  “Fine,” she snapped. “Keep him. Keep it all!” Spinning, she gimped back toward her house. “Beware, though. He’s an escape artist.”

  I glanced at Clarence. “Where’s she going?” I trotted after her. “Glinda, wait! I was kidding about the dog.” I quickly caught up to her—she couldn’t limp that fast. “Stop.”

  Turning to face me, she said, “Why, Darcy? Keep him. You get everything you want, so why shouldn’t you keep the dog, too?”

  Taken aback, I said, “What does that mean? I don’t get everything I want.”

  “Please.” She folded her arms over her chest. “You show up in this village all sweet and innocent and within days you have everyone eating out of your palm, including the Elder, who is notoriously picky. You’ve got a beautiful house, my dream job investigating for the Elder, a great family. You’re beautiful, you’re smart, you’re fun. And you’ve got Nick and Mimi as a perfect ready-made family for you. You have everything I’ve ever wanted, and now you’ve got a cute dog, too. I hope you’re happy.”

  “Don’t you dump all that on me,” I snapped. “Your insecurities aren’t my fault.”