A Drop of Witch (A Cozy Mystery Book): Sweetland Witch

by Zoe Arden

  Sheriff Knoxx was smiling. He liked seeing Detective Hudson squirm a bit. I couldn’t blame him. He’d tried to push the sheriff out of a job last time he was in Sweetland. Detective Hudson had a lot of enemies here.

  “How did she escape?” I demanded. “Why would she escape? She’s only got six months left.”

  Detective Hudson hesitated again. His eyes shifted ever so slightly.

  “We don’t know precisely. Revenge is a very strong emotion, though.”

  “Revenge?” I asked. “Revenge for what?”

  “For everything. Her powers were stripped. Her life was ruined. Rather than accept responsibility for her actions, Polly has chosen to blame you.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “We have sources from inside.”

  My brow creased as I pictured Polly bad mouthing me behind bars.

  Sheriff Knoxx cleared his throat. “Has anyone informed Anastasia Peacock yet?”

  “No. She was my next stop,” Detective Hudson replied.

  “I’ll handle it,” Sheriff Knoxx said, rounding back his shoulders. He was like a peacock displaying his feathers for a rival. His chest puffed out, widening to make him look more muscular than he really was. His face colored, giving him a healthy glow.

  “Thank you, Sheriff,” Detective Hudson said. “I appreciate any help you can give me in my—this—investigation.”

  Sheriff Knoxx filled his lungs and held in the breath. I could see his lips moving and thought he was counting to ten.

  Sheriff Knoxx finally expelled the breath. “Of course.” I was proud of him for letting the “my investigation” comment go. Detective Hudson had a bad habit of taking over things that happened in Sweetland Cove and ignoring Sheriff Knoxx completely.

  Sheriff Knoxx kissed Eleanor goodbye and left. No one else seemed to notice the ring on her finger, or if they had, they said nothing about it. I supposed that now wasn’t exactly the best time for congratulations.

  “Wait a second,” I said, suddenly realizing something. “If Polly escaped last night, then she could already be here in Sweetland Cove?”

  Detective Hudson nodded. “That’s correct.”

  He sounded so formal that my desire to smack him increased tenfold. Why couldn’t he offer a sympathetic, “I’m sorry, I know this stinks,” or even “We’re doing everything within our power to get Polly back. You don’t have to worry.”

  “Does COMHA at least have a plan?” my father asked.

  “Of course, the Council has a plan,” Detective Hudson replied.

  “And that would be...?” My father wasn’t going to accept less than a full and complete answer from him.

  “We have several field agents scouring Heavenly Haven as we speak.”

  “And what are you doing?” Eleanor asked.

  “I’m here to protect Ms. Fortune.”

  The way he addressed me made my head ache. It made me sound like a schoolmarm or someone’s mother. “Call me Ava,” I told him.

  He glanced at me and there was the briefest flash of light in his eyes as he repeated my name. “Ava. You can call me Colt, I suppose. Though I’m not sure that proper protocol—”

  “Thanks for that ingratiating offer, but I prefer Detective Hudson,” I snapped back, cutting him off.

  Damon squeezed my hand, and I fed off his warm energy.

  The tension in the room was palpable. Nobody here liked Detective Hudson, and I think he knew it.

  “How are you going to protect my daughter?” my dad asked.

  “Tonight, at your house, I’ll set up watch from your living room. I have a special extract of peppy powder given only to COMHA agents so I won’t fall asleep. During the night, I’ll—”

  “Hold on a second,” Damon said, raising his hand like a traffic cop telling someone to stop. “Are you saying that you plan to spend the night with Ava and her family?”

  “Of course.”

  “For how long?” Trixie asked, a look of horror on her face.

  Detective Hudson’s eyes rose to the dancing snowmen on top of Trixie’s head. The headband contained a line of them that lit up every few seconds and bounced around in some type of jig.

  “Until Polly Peacock is caught,” Detective Hudson answered.

  “Uh-uh, no way,” I said.

  Detective Hudson looked confused. “I’m only here to protect you. Not intrude on you. I’ll set up in a corner of your leaving room. You won’t even know I’m there.”

  “Not likely,” I said.

  “You don’t really want to reject my help, do you?”

  “I reject it all right,” I snarled.

  “Me, too!” cried Trixie.

  “Me, three!” cried my dad.

  Eleanor twiddled her thumbs for a moment. “Perhaps we’re being a bit hasty. If Detective Hudson can help—”

  “Help? Trixie cried. “The last time he tried to help, he arrested Eli and almost got Ava killed!”

  “Yes, but given the situation—”

  “He’s not staying in our house,” I said. I felt bad when I saw the hurt look in Eleanor’s eyes. I didn’t normally snap at her. “Our familiars are more than capable of keeping patrol while we sleep. They’ll protect us just as well as Detective Hudson could. Even better.”

  We all looked to the corner where Snowball, Rocky, and Tootsie lay curled up asleep. Our fearless companions.

  Detective Hudson drew in a deep breath and let it out. “I’ll stay outside, then.” He nodded as if that were final.

  “Do whatever you want,” I told him. “I can take care of myself.”

  * * *

  CHAPTER

  THREE

  .

  .

  .

  * * *

  * * *

  .

  “Go to sleep already,” I muttered to myself, but my eyes stayed open. I’d counted the Christmas lights on the ceiling fifty times already and knew 1034 tiny bulbs burned softly over me. I sat up and quietly called Snowball.

  A second later, the door to my bedroom popped open and my fluffy white cat crept silently in.

  “Mama called?” Snowy asked, sitting and looking at me with her wide green eyes.

  “I just wanted to see how things were going.”

  “Snowball has nothing to report except Rocky has eaten three times since watch began.” Snowball licked her paw and wiped her face. “Rocky has strong appetite. Tootsie is mad. She says Rocky is neglecting his duties as watchdog.”

  Snowy blinked at me, and I suppressed a laugh. “Tell Tootsie not to worry about Rocky’s appetite. He’s a big dog. He needs a lot of food.”

  “Snowball will tell her.” With that, Snowy turned and walked out of my room.

  I sighed. I’d hoped talking to Snowball would somehow lighten my mood but all it did was remind me that I was under surveillance. I kicked my legs over the side of the bed and walked to the window. Detective Hudson was standing beside his car, looking more alert than I would have thought for this time of night. I guessed the peppy extract he’d mentioned really worked. I’d have to ask him more about it later. Maybe I could use it for the bakery. Snickerdoodles for students who had to cram for tests sprang to mind.

  I watched the detective as he stood perfectly still in the starlight, alert to his surroundings yet careful not to seem too interested in any one thing. He kept checking his watch, and I realized he was trying to give off the impression that he was waiting for someone, rather than staking my place out.

  When he wasn’t checking his watch, he looked like a statue. If I hadn’t have known him, I might have thought he was handsome. His light brown hair, normally cut close to his head, had grown out since last I’d seen him, framing his face and softening his harsh features.

  Looking at him closer, I realized that the harsh features normally present on his face were surprisingly absent. Maybe it was the fact that it was night or maybe it was the fact that he was alone. Whatever it was, it changed him for the better. He was a couple years y
ounger than Damon and it showed. When he wasn’t sneering or sighing or snarling, Detective Hudson looked kind of sweet. Like someone I might have liked to know.

  Suddenly, he flung his hands up in the air, exasperated, and got into his car. A second later, he was driving away from the house. A twinge of panic seized me. Why was he leaving? Maybe he’d finally gotten tired and decided to go get a hotel room somewhere. Or maybe he’d decided I wasn’t worth protecting.

  I walked slowly back to bed and pulled the covers up. I hated to admit it, but knowing Detective Hudson was outside had been comforting. Knowing he was gone was more upsetting than I would have liked to admit. Sleep didn’t come to me until dawn, and even then, it was only a doze. When I finally got up for the day, I thought I might fall over from exhaustion.

  Eleanor, Trixie, and my dad were already downstairs. Tootsie was purring at Trixie’s feet as my aunt fed her a bowl of tuna. Snowball came running at me. “Mama, Mama, Mama!”

  “Whoa,” I said, as Snowy jumped into my arms and licked my face.

  “Auntie Trixie says Snowball was very good last night and can have tuna with Tootsie if Mama approves.”

  I laughed at my furry friend’s excited face. “Mama approves.”

  Snowball jumped out of my arms and ran to her food bowl, where Trixie gave her the other half of the can. I looked around for Rocky. The wolfhound was asleep in the corner.

  Eleanor looked at me from over her newspaper. “You don’t look like you got a wink of sleep last night.”

  “I didn’t,” I said, pouring myself some stale coffee. I took a sip and winced.

  “Maybe you should take a cup out to Detective Hudson,” my dad said from his seat at the table. “I don’t like the man, but anyone who spends the night sleeping in his car deserves at least a cup of coffee.”

  “Detective Hudson didn’t sleep in his car,” I said. “He went home around two.”

  My father tightened his brow. “I think you’re mistaken, honey. Detective Hudson was out there all night. He’s still there.”

  I looked out the living room window and sure enough, Detective Hudson was sitting in his car, looking even more exhausted than I did.

  “He must have come back,” I muttered. I opened the door, curious as to when he’d returned, and saw Lucy Lockwood walking up the driveway. She was carrying a coffee tray in one hand and a cup the size of a two-liter of soda in the other. Working at the Coffee Cove had its perks. She handed me a normal-sized cup as she got to the door.

  “Here, take this,” she said. “It’s my own creation. Appletini alert latte. Let me know what you think.”

  I took a sip. “Wow,” I said, my eyes widening. A jolt of caffeine hit my brain and suddenly I felt more awake than if I’d slept a full eight hours.

  “Thanks,” Lucy said, taking my expression as a compliment. She slipped past me as I took a second sip of my appletini latte. If I wasn’t careful, I’d be bouncing off the walls.

  When I got back to the kitchen, Trixie was already halfway through the Brass Monkey Lucy had brought her. She had to hold the oversized cup with two hands, but she clearly thought it was worth it.

  “Thank you again,” Trixie said, coming up for breath. “If I could drink these instead of water, I would.” She lowered her mouth back to the straw and sucked.

  Lucy laughed as she passed out the rest of the lattes. She frowned when she got to the last one. “I didn’t know what Detective Hudson would like, so I went with a classic vanilla latte. A bit boring, but still delicious.”

  “You take it to him,” I said.

  “Oh, come on, Ava. He doesn’t bite.” She grabbed my elbow and pulled me toward the door. “Besides,” she whispered when we were out of earshot of my family. “He’s kind of cute.”

  “Cute?! You’re not serious.”

  “Oh, yes, I am. He may need some help with his manners, but looks-wise, he’s in the right department.”

  “I’ve already got Damon. One man is enough.”

  Lucy shot me a look. “If I thought he could ever really accept you as you are, I’d be the first one in his corner. I used to think he could.”

  “But now?”

  “But now I just don’t know. He still seems hung up on the whole witch thing. And you deserve better than that.”

  I bit my bottom lip as we approached Detective Hudson’s car, which was parked at the curb. Lucy tapped lightly on the window, and his eyes sprang open.

  “Oh, thank you,” he said when he saw the latte. I guess the peppy extract had finally worn off.

  “Lucy brought it,” I told him.

  “Thank you to Lucy, then,” he said.

  Lucy smiled at him. For some reason, a pang of jealousy washed through me.

  I pushed it away. “My aunts and I are leaving for the bakery soon.”

  “Good. I’ll walk with you. I could use some air.”

  He got out of the car and started toward the house.

  “You don’t need to do that,” I told him. “We’ll be fine on our own.” But a half hour later, he was still at my side as Eleanor, Trixie, and I headed for work. Lucy had gone back to Coffee Cove. We walked mostly in silence, but it finally began to get to me.

  “Are you a robot or something?”

  Detective Hudson looked startled. “I’m sorry?”

  “Can’t you talk? You know, make conversation like a normal person?”

  “Of course,” he said, but we continued in silence.

  I sighed, realizing I would have to be the one to draw information out of him. Eleanor and Trixie had gotten ahead of us, anxious to get to Mystic and open for the day. We were almost there.

  “So,” I asked. “When did you come back last night?”

  He looked at me blankly. “I never left.”

  “Yes, you did. Around two. I saw you drive off.”

  “You were watching me?”

  I blushed. “I was checking up on you. Making sure you weren’t setting out cameras on our lawn or something.”

  The corners of his mouth crept up, and I couldn’t help but notice the light that shined in his eyes.

  “I only pretended to leave. When you’re watching a place, it helps to move around so no one gets suspicious. I moved my car several times last night. It was only when I heard from COMHA that Polly was spotted on the other side of the island that I allowed myself to rest for a bit.”

  “Polly was spotted in Mistmoor?” I asked.

  “Mistmoor Beach,” he corrected.

  That wasn’t far, but it wasn’t here. “Did they get her?”

  Detective Hudson frowned. “No. The agents chasing her... she got away.”

  “How can someone without any powers evade COMHA officers?”

  Detective Hudson opened his mouth, but his reply was cut off by Eleanor’s scream. Up ahead, she and Trixie stood with the door to the bakery hanging open and a shocked expression on their faces.

  “Hurry!” Trixie cried, turning toward us.

  Detective Hudson leaped into action. He was at the bakery in half a second, pushing my aunts aside as he stepped in.

  “What is it?” I asked, but as I turned my head I saw for myself.

  Paisley Mudget lay on the floor of the Mystic Cupcake. A crumbled cookie lay to her left. A smashed cupcake lay to her right. She was dead.

  * * *

  CHAPTER

  FOUR

  .

  .

  .

  * * *

  * * *

  .

  Sheriff Knoxx screeched to a stop in his car, Otis Winken following behind him in a rusty Volkswagen. Otis stopped just in time to avoid colliding with Sheriff Knoxx.

  “Otis, where’s your deputy wagon?” I asked as he got out.

  Sheriff Knoxx shot Otis a look. Otis hooked his thumbs through the belt loops on his pants and pulled on them. “Well, uh,” he said, “I, uh, had a little accident.”

  Sheriff Knoxx’s expression told me that whatever it was, “accident” was not the w
ord he would have used. “A skunk,” Sheriff Knoxx said, shaking his head as he opened the door to the bakery.

  “A skunk?” I whispered to Otis as we followed behind the sheriff.

  “My new familiar,” Otis whispered back. “I named him Tadpole.”

  I’d never heard of a skunk being anyone’s familiar, but if it was going to happen, Otis was just the sort of person it would happen to.

  Inside the bakery, Detective Hudson and Sheriff Knoxx were already bickering.

  “Did you touch anything?” Knoxx demanded.

  “Of course not,” Detective Hudson replied, his lips tight.

  “Move anything?” Knoxx continued.

  “I already told you I haven’t touched anything,” Detective Hudson said.

  I couldn’t blame Sheriff Knoxx for taking an attitude with Detective Hudson, considering their history.

  “So, everything is exactly as you found it?” Sheriff Knoxx barked.

  Eleanor put a gentle hand on his arm. “Zane, Detective Hudson’s been waiting for you.”

  Sheriff Knoxx immediately softened. He regained his composure and stopped wagging his finger in Detective Hudson’s direction.

  “Well then.” Sheriff Knoxx cleared his throat, took Eleanor’s hand, and turned gently toward her. “Do you have any idea what Paisley Mudget was doing in your bakery when you were closed?”

  “No clue.”

  Detective Hudson said, “Perhaps we should question each of the women separately.”

  Sheriff Knoxx puffed out his chest. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

  Detective Hudson puffed out his out, too, trying to match the sheriff’s. He didn’t have a chance, though. Sheriff Knoxx was part goblin and could puff out his chest better than anyone. Detective Hudson realized his failure and immediately stopped.

  “I don’t think we’ve met,” Otis said, holding his hand out for Colt to shake. “I’m Otis. Otis Winken.”

  Sheriff Knoxx grunted. “Otis, you’ve met.”

  “We have?” Otis asked, scratching his head.