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

by Zoe Arden

  “I guess you’re not doing a very good job of spying, then, are you? I mean, spies are supposed to be covert, right?” It was a sharp jibe that a better person than me might have left alone, but it was my way of getting even with him for all the grief he’d been causing me.

  “I wanted her to know,” Detective Hudson said, completely throwing me off guard.

  “What do you mean? Why would you want her to know you’re spying on her?”

  “I didn’t. Not right away, at least. I hid a bunch of cameras all over her property one night.”

  “You installed cameras around her home?”

  “Video bumpers,” he corrected. “They’re a lot like voice bumpers except instead of recording sound, they record pictures.”

  “Do they fly up through windows like voice bumpers?”

  “Yes, except that they’re much more discreet. One video bumper is no bigger than the size of an ant. It’s something COMHA’s been working on for a while. I’m one of the first agents to use it in the field.” I heard the pride in his voice when he said that.

  “They sound cool, but I still don’t get it. You said you wanted her to find the cameras?”

  “I wanted her to find a camera. She was suspicious that someone was watching her. She started searching her home and store so I left one in an obvious place for her to find. I thought once she found it, she’d stop searching.”

  “And did she?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, the others are still safely tucked away,” I said, finally getting it. “Clever.”

  “Thanks.”

  I peered down at the LED screen. “So, what have you got?” I wasn’t exactly comfortable with the idea of spying on someone, but curiosity got the better of me.

  “Get in and I’ll show you.”

  “In your car?” I asked. For some reason, the idea surprised me.

  “Yeah, it’s warm outside. And I don’t want anyone else to see this.”

  “Who’s gonna see?” I asked.

  At that moment, our snoopy neighbor, Madison Gray, opened the front door and waved as she walked to her mailbox. Her eyes lingered on us, especially Detective Hudson. I waved back and got in the car.

  “Okay, look at this,” Detective Hudson said as he held the phone for me. He was clearly excited about whatever it was and happy to have someone to share it with. “Just let me hit the sound button.”

  Anastasia was moving around her shop, The Alchemic Stone, going through what looked like a normal day. The phone rang, and she went to answer it.

  “Hello?” Anastasia said.

  I wished we could hear the other side of the conversation. It would be nice to know who she was talking to.

  “Tomorrow night?”

  Detective Hudson shot me a quick glance to make sure I’d caught that.

  “Who’s she talking to?” I asked.

  “Just wait,” he replied.

  I turned my attention back to the screen.

  “Midnight?” Anastasia squawked. “Why so late?” She frowned as she listened to the reply. “Of course. Are you sure you don’t want to come by sooner?” She nodded her head in response to whatever the person was saying.

  “Okay, tomorrow at midnight. I’ll leave the shop’s back door unlocked. Just come in. I’ll see you then.” She hung up the phone, and Detective Hudson clicked pause.

  “So? What do you think?” he asked.

  “You think she was talking to Polly?”

  “Who else?”

  I had to admit, it made sense. It wasn’t as if a customer was going to meet Anastasia at midnight.

  He hesitated a moment before asking his next question.

  “Would you like to come watch her place with me tomorrow night?”

  If I hadn’t have known better, I would have sworn he was blushing.

  “You mean like a stakeout?” I asked. I knew none of my friends or family would approve. Especially not my dad. Especially not Damon.

  “Okay,” I said. “Tomorrow it is.”

  * * *

  CHAPTER

  NINE

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  I woke up when Snowball licked my face.

  “Hi, Fluffhead,” I said, scratching under her chin.

  Snowball crinkled her nose. “Snowball does not like Fluffhead. Snowball likes Snowy or Snowball.” She licked my nose to emphasize the point.

  “Okay, Snowy. Can you do me a favor?”

  Snowball nodded as she sat back on my chest.

  “I need you to go downstairs and tell me if anyone’s there.”

  Snowball jumped off my chest, ran downstairs, and returned a minute later licking her lips.

  “Papa is gone. Aunties have gone.”

  “Did they go to Coffee Cove?”

  “Snowball believes so.”

  “Good.”

  I’d been hoping my father would go with them this morning. He’d been helping Eleanor and Trixie out more and more at the bakery lately. Apparently, my dad enjoyed coming up with new flavor combinations. His latest, banana chip brownie bread, had been a huge success with customers.

  With the bakery being closed, Trixie and Eleanor had decided to set up a temporary shop in Coffee Cove, with Melbourne’s permission. It had been Trixie’s idea. They’d worked it out on the phone last night and were headed down there this morning to get started. I’d told them I’d join them when I could. I knew they could use all the help they could get, especially with all those New Year’s orders to fill.

  “Is Mama up to mischief?” Snowball asked.

  “Mischief?” I repeated, surprised. “What makes Snowy ask that?” My familiar was almost too perceptive sometimes.

  “Mama makes mischief a lot. Snowball knows. Snowball reads Mama’s thoughts sometimes.”

  I laughed and scratched Snowball’s head. “Snowball makes mischief, too,” I said. “Like getting into her treats when no one is around.”

  Snowball blinked at me innocently.

  “Don’t worry,” I told her, getting out of bed. “I’m just going to see a few people and say hi. I need one more favor, though.”

  “Will Snowball get treats?”

  “Yes, if Snowy does a good job, Snowy gets treats. I need you to go out to Detective Hudson’s car and distract him until I’m gone.”

  “Snowball can do this,” she said emphatically.

  “I know you can. I’ll leave treats out in the kitchen for you.”

  “Snowball knows where they are,” she said and ran out the door. I dressed quickly and hurried downstairs. I’d already decided before going to bed that today I would pay a few visits to people from our Christmas party, starting with Mayor Singer. I knew he had a grudge against Paisley Mudget, and he’d been at the party that night, too. Which meant he could have swiped that skeleton key at any time.

  I peered out the window and saw Snowball attacking Detective Hudson’s feet as he stood there, looking confused. I had to laugh. She managed to distract him to the point that he dropped his phone. Snowball pounced on it, using a bit of magic to help her pick it up and run down the street like it was a bird she was chasing. Detective Hudson ran after her. I made sure to leave her treat bag on the table and noticed that it was already open.

  Eleanor’s car was in the garage. It purred to life as I started it up. We so rarely drove anywhere—Sweetland Cove just wasn’t big enough to warrant the everyday use of a car—that it was almost a special treat stepping on the gas pedal.

  I drove down the only road that connected Sweetland Cove to Mistmoor Point, using a speed charm to help me get there a little faster. Two hours later, I pulled into Mistmoor and parked my car outside Mayor Singer’s office.

  His secretary announced my presence, and I was admitted almost immediately.

  “Ava,” the mayor said genially, shaking my hand. “So good to see you.”

  I smiled back at him, guilt creeping into the
back of my chest as I took the offered seat. Did I really think that Mayor Singer could have had anything to do with Paisley’s death? He was so kind. So jolly. He reminded me of Santa Claus.

  “What brings you to Mistmoor?” Mayor Singer asked, taking the seat behind his desk. “Though I suspect I might already know.” He laughed and winked at me.

  “You-you do?” I asked.

  “It’s not hard to guess.” He spread his hands wide, grinning at me. I had no idea what he could be smiling about. Accusing someone of murder wasn’t the type of thing most people liked to hear. “You need an extra invitation to my New Year’s party.”

  “Oh!” I said, so surprised that Mayor Singer paused with an invitation already in his hand.

  “That is what you came here for, isn’t it?”

  “Oh, I, um, yes. Of course.”

  I smiled back at him and took the invitation.

  “There was no need to come such a long ways. You could have telephoned. I’d have been more than happy to send along a few extra invitations. I thought I’d invited everyone on the island except the tourists, but it seems my secretary missed a few residents here and there. Who is the invitation for?”

  “Detective Hudson,” I said, without thinking.

  “Indeed?” Mayor Singer asked. His brow tightened. “I admit I’m a bit surprised to hear that. I rather had the impression that you were—er—against his visitation.”

  “Yes, well... it’s New Year’s Eve. No one should be alone on New Year’s.”

  Mayor Singer’s face lightened at once. “Quite right. Quite right. I’m glad you’ve thought to include. I’m not sure it would have occurred to me.”

  “You don’t mind, do you?”

  “Not at all. The more the merrier, I always say.” He rose from his chair, thinking we were done.

  “It’s a shame about Paisley,” I said.

  Mayor Singer’s face darkened. He sat back down.

  “Yes, it is indeed. She had a sweet, kind side to her not many people got to see.”

  Sweet and kind? Were we talking about the same person? “It sounds like you knew her pretty well.”

  His cheeks colored. “Paisley and I dated for some time, many years ago, before I met my wife.”

  “Really? I had no idea.”

  “Why would you?”

  I shrugged, trying to register this new information.

  “Why did you stop seeing each other?” I asked.

  “Why do you want to know?” He began twirling his mustache like an evil villain in a cartoon.

  “Just curious. I only knew Paisley as she was today. I’m kind of surprised to hear you describe her as sweet and kind. I don’t think many people would use those words.”

  “That’s because they never knew her like I did.”

  “She had a lot of enemies.”

  Mayor Singer blanched. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing. Just that Paisley’s death isn’t exactly a surprise for a lot of people. I just hope her killer is caught soon.” I was fishing for information, hoping that if I kept talking, something would slip out of the mayor’s mouth.

  “I thought Polly Peacock was responsible for Paisley’s death.”

  “Well, that’s what a lot of people think, but the truth is there’s no evidence to back that up. It’s just an assumption.”

  “Well, I think it’s a fair assumption, considering what we know about Polly,” Mayor Singer said, rising from his chair again. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a lot of planning to do.”

  “So, you don’t think someone else could have been responsible for Paisley’s death?” I asked.

  Mayor Singer hesitated by the door. “Anything’s possible, I suppose. But likely?” He shook his head. “My money is on Polly Peacock.”

  I took a step toward the door, which he now held open for me. He was anxious to get rid of me all of a sudden.

  “Have you spoken to Lottie?” I asked, stalling for time.

  “Yes, I called her the day I heard the news. She was heartbroken.”

  I thought Mayor Singer looked pretty heartbroken himself.

  “Why did you say you and Paisley stopped seeing each other?”

  “I didn’t.”

  We stood staring at each other. I’d clearly offended him.

  “I have to finish preparing for my party,” Mayor Singer said. “I’m sure you’ll understand if I ask you to leave.”

  “Sure,” I said, finally making my way to the door, a million more questions burning in my head.

  “One last thing,” I said, spinning back around. Something had just occurred to me. I knew how strongly Damon had reacted just to my having coffee with Colt—Detective Hudson. Maybe he wasn’t the only one with a jealous streak.

  “What?” the mayor asked through closed lips.

  “Does your wife know about your past relationship with Paisley?”

  “Tazzie?” Mayor Singer asked, his face going white. “Of course. She knows everything about me.”

  “Thanks,” I said, and left the office.

  Note to self: find out if Tazzie Singer had a grudge against Paisley.

  * * *

  CHAPTER

  TEN

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  T he Alchemic Stone was completely black except for one tiny light at the back of the shop. Colt—I mean Detective Hudson—and I pulled up in his car around eleven and sat there waiting.

  “Why are we here so early?” I asked.

  “Because you always want to be early on a stakeout. You never know what the criminal is going to do until they do it. You don’t want to risk showing up too late and missing your opportunity.”

  “That makes a lot of sense, actually.”

  “You sound surprised.”

  “Well...” I glanced at him from the corner of my eye.

  “Well?” he prompted.

  “The last time you were here, it didn’t seem like much of what you did made sense.”

  His face tightened.

  Great. Make him mad then sit alone in his car with him for two hours. Brilliant.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, so quietly I thought I’d misunderstood him.

  “What?”

  “I’m sorry,” he repeated, looking at me. His gray eyes flashed in the moonlight, sending a tingle of excitement down my back.

  “You’re... sorry?”

  “Yeah. I should never have... I made a lot of mistakes the last time I was here.”

  “No kidding.” It was out of my mouth before I could stop myself. I clamped my hand over my mouth and blushed. “Sorry, you’re apologizing and I’m being a jerk.”

  “No, I deserve it,” he said. “I wanted so much to prove myself last time I was here, I didn’t stop to think much of the time.”

  I bit my bottom lip, wondering if I should shut up now or ask another question. “Why do you feel like you need to prove yourself? Do you really care so much about what your colleagues think?”

  “Sure, I care about that, but it’s more than that.” He took a deep breath. “My father died when I was twelve.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry.”

  “He was a COMHA agent. The last time I saw him, we argued. He wanted me to follow in his footsteps. I told him that was the last thing I would do. I wanted to be a musician.”

  “A musician?” I laughed. I couldn’t picture Detective Colt Hudson, so formidable and serious, as a musician.

  “I play saxophone.” He winced. “Played saxophone.”

  “You gave it up?”

  He nodded.

  “After my dad died everything changed.”

  “How did he die?”

  I heard the gulp without seeing it. “He was murdered.”

  “Oh.” I wished there was something I could say to take away the pain I knew he felt, but from experience, I knew there wasn’t. So, I said the only thing I could. “I understand.”<
br />
  He reached out and gently patted my hand. His palm was warm and sweaty but in kind of a good way. It made me feel safe.

  “I know,” he said.

  His hand lingered on mine for a second, and I couldn’t help but wonder if Damon’s jealousy had been founded after all. It was nice to sit with a man and not worry that he was judging me. With Damon, I always felt like I was being judged.

  I pulled my hand away and shifted in my seat.

  “So, did they catch the guy?” I asked.

  Colt shook his head. “No. That’s why I joined the agency. I wanted to get the guy who did it.”

  “And?”

  “So far, the case is cold.”

  We sat in silence for several minutes, each of us contemplating the strange relationship we’d formed. In the space of six months, we’d gone from enemies to antagonists to friends. I paused. Friends? Was that what we were now? I looked at him from the corner of my eye. Maybe we were, I admitted.

  “Why’d you ask me to come with you tonight?” I said.

  He shrugged. “After you used Snowball to make your escape this morning,” I bit my bottom lip as he snuck an amused look at me, “I’m starting to realize that maybe you’re a little stronger than I gave you credit for. And you’re going to do what you want to do, whether it’s safe for you or not.”

  I smiled. “Sounds like you’ve known me all my life.”

  I reached into my bag for a drink and when I looked up again, I saw something moving in the dark.

  “Colt,” I said suddenly, jumping in my seat. I pointed toward the store. He followed the direction of my finger and his eyes widened.

  “It’s her,” he said, dropping his voice. “She’s here.”

  “Are you sure that’s Polly?” I asked.

  We watched as a woman dressed in black walked carefully past the front door toward the back. It was impossible to make out her face. She was wearing a hat and had her hair pulled up under it so that none of it was visible.