Luck of the Witch (Crypt Witch Cozy Mystery Series Book 1)

by K. E. O'Connor

  “Deacon wasn’t interested in getting back together?” Petra had acted like she hadn’t cared one way or the other about Deacon. Somebody was lying.

  “He was looking for a trophy girlfriend, somebody who would look good on his arm during the election. Deacon needed somebody reliable by his side, someone potential voters would find appealing.”

  I frowned. “And he decided to pick my sister as that replacement?”

  “I meant no offense. Aurora is adorable. She’d make a perfect trophy girlfriend.”

  I reached across the counter and smacked the side of his head.

  “Ouch! Okay, she’d make a perfect girlfriend.”

  “Don’t even think about looking at her.”

  Axel’s grin turned sharp. “I like my women on the spiky side. Your sister is sweet, but she’s not for me.”

  “What did you do first?”

  His brows lowered. “You’ve lost me.”

  “Do you work out first and then stuff your face afterwards?”

  “Oh, I see. It’s always the gym, then food, and then a movie. I hit the gym around five, head to dinner at about six-thirty, and catch the eight o’clock movie. It’s the same every Thursday. I like my routine. Everybody knows it. You’re not going to catch me out.”

  I wrinkled my nose. He did have evidence to show he was nowhere near Deacon’s the night he died. “What time did the movie end?”

  “We’re always out by eleven,” Axel said. “The neighbors don’t like the noise. I watched the movie and then wandered back here. I must have been in bed by midnight at the latest. I had a nightcap and then turned in. It’s not always high glamor here. I’m an average guy.”

  It sounded like a pretty good night if you discounted the gym workout. He had a solid alibi. Axel no longer seemed like a likely candidate for Deacon’s murder. But what he’d said about Petra interested me. She’d been clear she wasn’t interested in Deacon. She’d been almost flippant about it and claimed to be seeing somebody else. Then she’d run off and squashed Wiggles in her panic to get away. Maybe she wasn’t being as upfront as she should be.

  “How close are you to Petra?”

  “Not very. I occasionally go to the Ancient Imp for a glass of wine but prefer my own cellar to what she offers.”

  “You definitely think she was hassling Deacon?”

  “Absolutely. I was there a couple of times when she accidentally stumbled across him. She made some excuse about fate bringing them back together. He seemed embarrassed by the whole thing. You know Deacon. He was never rude, but he politely brushed her off without hurting her feelings. He’s too much of a sucker. He should have told her she didn’t stand a chance and was wasting her time. She might have left him alone after that.”

  “Is that how you talk to your conquests after you get what you want?”

  Axel smiled at me and raised his wine glass. “Maybe one day you’ll get to find out.”

  I glanced at Wiggles, who shook his head as he ate moldy cake out of the trash.

  “I’m going to have to chat to Petra again.” Which was a good thing. We had some unfinished dog hitting business to deal with.

  “You’ve already talked to her?”

  I finished my soda. “We met earlier today. We’ve got an issue to clear up.”

  “From that glint in your eye, it looks like it’s not a good issue.” Axel glanced at Wiggles. “What’s with the dog shades?”

  “He’s had an eye operation. He’s going to have to wear those shades most of the time.”

  Axel patted his leg. “Here boy. He’s always such a decent dog, although I get the impression he’s not too keen on me.”

  Wiggles growled and bared his teeth, displaying all the cake stuck between them.

  Axel frowned. “And definitely not today.”

  I stood. “Thanks for the drink and the alibi.”

  “My pleasure.” Axel walked Wiggles and me back to the front door. “If I can be of any help in clearing your sister’s name, let me know.” His hand moved to my lower back.

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  He leaned forward as if he was going to kiss me.

  “Take a hike, buddy. She’s not into toads.”

  Axel jumped back. He looked at me and then Wiggles. “Who said that?”

  I looked around, trying to keep the smile from my face. “Maybe you have a ghost. Have you had this place checked recently for unwanted spooks? The magic sometimes draws them in.”

  Axel stared at Wiggles. “I could have sworn that came from Wiggles.”

  I glared at Wiggles, silently willing him not to say another word. “He’s just a dog.”

  Axel looked around the hallway. “How bizarre. Well, as I said, anything I can do, just ask.”

  I pulled open the door and left Axel staring around the inside of his house.

  I waited until we were out of earshot before speaking. “That was close.”

  “The guy was being a sleaze. He was going in for some open mouth action with you.”

  “Don’t be nasty. He was going to kiss my cheek.”

  “No way, that guy is as slippery as an eel. He’d have accidentally planted one on your lips and then gone in for a full-on face sucking session.”

  “I wouldn’t have let him,” I said. “And you need to keep your mouth shut until we work out how many people to tell about your transformation.”

  “What’s wrong with me being a hellhound?” Wiggles asked. “It adds an edge. It will get you more respect now you have me by your side. Your amazing talking hellhound, Thunderbolt.”

  “Thunderbolt?”

  “I’m trying it out.”

  “More like Thunder Fart. Let me tell people about your change slowly. I’ll only get questions about what kind of magic I used to bring you back. It will make people jumpy, knowing my pesky demon had a hand in your resurrection.”

  “You’ve always been known for your shady magic practices. This is not so different.”

  I stopped walking and stared at Wiggles. “I am not. My magic is legit.”

  “As are those mushrooms you sell in Cloven Hoof.”

  “Everyone needs a little natural buzz now and again. Those mushrooms are Magic Council approved. Hell, some Council members come to Willow Tree Falls to get their own mushrooms. I’m doing nothing dodgy.”

  “And neither am I,” Wiggles said. “All you did was use some powerful magic to bring back your beloved dog. I came back with a few improvements; that’s all. I cannot go around wearing sunglasses and keeping my jaw shut the whole time. That would be torture.”

  “You need to when we investigate Deacon’s death,” I said. “We don’t want to spook any more suspects.”

  “I’ll keep my muzzle shut, so long as the sleazebags keep their hands off you.”

  I patted his head as we continued walking. “You’re a good boy. Anyone would think you were jealous.”

  “Of course I’m jealous. I’m your reluctant snuggle buddy.”

  I laughed as we headed back into the village. Wiggles might be a hellhound, but I’d trust him over any of the guys I’d dated.

  “Let’s go see Petra while she’s still racked with guilt over squashing you. Her guilt might force her to open up,” I said. “She didn’t tell us the truth about her feelings for Deacon, and I need to know why.”

  “Grandpa Lucius is right. It’s always the ex-girlfriend or the wife,” Wiggles said. “They get obsessed with a guy, and that’s it. It could be lights out at any time.”

  “How many ex-girlfriends have you got that want to do that to you?”

  “A hellhound can dream. Let’s go scare this witch and see what she has to tell us.”

  Chapter 8

  Before heading to the Ancient Imp to grill Petra, I made a quick detour to Cloven Hoof. Merrie was behind the bar as usual when I walked in. She raised her hand when she saw me.

  “I’m glad you’re here. We’ve got a problem.”

  “No problems, not today. I’m
on a mission to prove my sister’s innocence.”

  Merrie nodded. “Two things. Angel Force has been in touch. They left information about a new job for you.”

  I slumped onto a stool by the bar. I had said I’d take another job to get me out of Willow Tree Falls. Right now, all I could think about was helping Aurora clear her name, not jumping an escaped demon and teaching him a few lessons.

  “What else?”

  Merrie pursed her lips. “Two staff called in sick.”

  “You’re kidding. Who?”

  “Paula and Mickey.”

  “They’ve only been here a couple of months. They’re both sick at the same time?”

  “It looks like it. Paula is decent, but I was always a little concerned about Mickey. He enjoys sampling the produce too much. He says you need to experience everything, so you can give recommendations to customers. Most of the time, he’s as high as a kite and keeps walking into things.”

  “Get rid of him.”

  “Isn’t that your job as our boss?” Merrie winked at me. “You get all the fun jobs.”

  I groaned. “Fine, when he’s well enough to make an appearance, let me know. I’ll happily fire his bewildered backside.”

  “Will do.”

  “We’ve got two parties this evening, haven’t we?”

  “A stag and a hen party from out of town.”

  I snitched my nose. “I’ll stick around and lend a hand.” Merrie was great at her job, but pre-wedding parties were hectic affairs.

  “Thanks, that will be great. Most of the prep is done, but it’s going to be crazy when the drinks orders come flying my way.”

  My mission to quiz Petra would have to wait. I knew where she was. She wasn’t going to leave Willow Tree Falls, even though she thought she’d run over Wiggles and must be wondering what hideous revenge I had planned for her. I couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when we strolled into the Ancient Imp later that night.

  I hurried upstairs to change into my usual work outfit, flat black boots, fitted black pants, a red shirt and my hair tied back in a low ponytail.

  “I’m starving,” Wiggles said.

  “Is the moldy cake not sitting well in your stomach?”

  “That barely touched the sides.”

  “What’s your favorite food? I’m guessing you’re not going to say the dog kibble I feed you since there’s half a bowl still in the kitchen.”

  “It’s not great.”

  “It’s a nutritionally complete dog food.”

  “It’s not hellhound food. I’d love a rare steak with a side order of fries, half a bottle of Chianti, followed by a mountain of ice cream.”

  “No way are you getting any of that. I’m not having you turning into an obese hellhound.”

  “I’ll burn it all off. I run extra hot now I’m fired by demon power.”

  “Even so, no Chianti.”

  “How about a smooth Merlot?”

  “How about a fresh bowl of water?”

  “I’ll settle for toilet water.”

  “No! No more drinking from the toilet bowl. It’s nasty and you leave puddles all over the floor.”

  “There’s just something about that heady mix of fresh water, cleaning fluid, and human waste that I can’t resist.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Stop talking.”

  “That’s not happening. I’m never giving up on this voice.”

  I sighed. “No wine, no toilet water.”

  “You are no fun.”

  “I’m lots of fun. But I don’t want my new hellhound felled by a heart attack.”

  “That’s impossible, I think. I can’t die from anything so basic, not anymore.” Wiggles turned in a circle, checking out his fur as if that would give him a clue as to just how indestructible he was.

  “We’ll negotiate this later. You stay up here while I get to work.”

  “I’ll get bored on my own.”

  “Take a nap on your favorite beanbag.” I pointed to the squishy tartan bag Wiggles loved.

  “I hate that thing. Every time I move, it wakes me up with all the crunchy ball sounds. It’s like sleeping in a bowl of rice crackles. Hard rice crackles.”

  “I had no idea. Where do you like to sleep?”

  “Your bed is comfortable.”

  “You can sleep there only when I’m in it.”

  “You’ve got all those pillows. I like to lay between them and roll about. Sometimes, I grab one and put it between my legs—”

  “Please tell me you don’t hump my pillows when I’m out of the apartment.”

  “Only now and again. Once a day at the most.”

  I walked over and closed my bedroom door. “I’m going to have to get new pillows.” I grabbed the dog kibble and topped up his bowl.

  “I’m not touching that. It tastes like meaty sawdust.”

  I rummaged in the fridge and pulled out half a pack of chicken sausages. “How about these?”

  “Not a fan.”

  I sighed. Who knew hellhounds could be so fussy. “What do you want?”

  “Steak.”

  “I don’t have any steak. I’m not into red meat.”

  “I bet you’ve got some down in the kitchen freezer.”

  “You’re not having the bar food. That’s for paying customers who get the munchies.”

  “Just a small steak. I’ll forego the wine and the ice cream.”

  I groaned. I had to get downstairs and help Merrie. “I’ll get a steak sent up to you so long as you promise not to hump my pillows.”

  “You’re a diamond.” He turned in a circle a couple of times and settled on the carpet.

  “I’m a mug.” I tucked in my shirt and ran down the stairs. I placed the order for Wiggle’s steak with Niall, my amazing chef, and got to work on setting up the tables and drinks orders for tonight’s parties.

  We often had out-of-towners coming to Willow Tree Falls to visit Cloven Hoof. As the only licensed purveyor of magical herbal enhancements, I had a popular business. Magic users from all over the country came to enjoy themselves.

  We were particularly popular with the hen and stag parties. They often got a little out of control with all the naughty behavior as people celebrated a last night of freedom with the soon to be newlyweds.

  There were two parties tonight. Fifteen hens and twenty-five stags would be descending on us. They always spent well and partied hard, and they always left behind one hell of a mess.

  As I did a final check of the tables, Merrie hurried over. “The hens are here.”

  “Let’s give them a night to remember.” I turned and watched as fifteen overexcited witches dressed in sparkly pink outfits pushed through the doors. The bride wore an enormous white veil and already looked unsteady on her high heels.

  “Welcome ladies,” I said as they entered the bar. “Let me show you to your table.”

  The bride-to-be, Tennessee Brown, nodded and smiled. “We’re here for your mushrooms.”

  “They’ll be on tap, as requested.” I gestured to her table, set up as instructed with trays of canapes infused with some of my most potent mushrooms.

  “Come on, ladies.” Tennessee gestured to her friends as she hurried to the table. Her drunken hens followed behind her.

  Merrie lined up shot glasses on the bar and filled them with a shimmering blue liquid as I settled the party.

  I walked to the bar and snitched my nose at the shots. “Don’t tell me they want star bombs all night?”

  Merrie grinned. “Mushrooms and star bombs are our specialities.”

  “Keep an eye on how much they’re drinking. Too many star bombs and our bride-to-be will be floating on the ceiling.”

  “You’re the boss.”

  I sensed the next party arriving just before they entered the bar. I’d had second thoughts about letting this party in. They were elves. Not your fantasy style elf you see in all the video games. They were more like the ones portrayed in blockbuster movies, lithe with shimmering skin and
pointed ears. They always had the ladies drooling. I excluded myself from that. I liked my guys with a bit more muscle and a bit less mouth.

  But they’d paid upfront and had been nothing but gracious when they’d made their booking. Plus, they booked the deluxe package. These elves were wealthy and liked to spend money.

  I pulled open the door to find twenty-five immaculately dressed elves. They looked too good to be true and mostly were. Elves could be deceitful. There was often some sneaky scheme up their perfectly outfitted sleeves. You had to watch what you said and be sure you agreed to nothing you weren’t sure of, or you’d end up in one of their underground caverns dancing until your feet bled. All in the name of their entertainment.

  “Welcome to Cloven Hoof.” I looked around the group. “Which one of you is Darius Oathfinder?”

  The tallest elf in the group with silver eyes stepped forward and bowed. “That would be me. Are you Tempest Crypt?”

  “I am. It’s nice to meet you. I hope you’re having an enjoyable bachelor party so far.”

  “We’re about to,” he said. “We’ve heard nothing but good things about the produce you supply.”

  “I’m sure you won’t be disappointed.”

  “And if I am?” His silver eyes glinted with the challenge.

  I smiled sweetly. I was not going to be tricked by this elf. “Then we can talk in private.”

  “I look forward to it. I’m sure we can reach a satisfactory deal.”

  I was not doing a deal with an elf. “Everything will meet your approval. Please, follow me.” I led the elves to their table on the opposite side of the room from the witches. I was sure the two parties would be mingling in no time. That was their prerogative. I wasn’t a dating agency. I’d serve the drinks and let them find their way to each other.

  Once the elves were settled and mushrooms gently melted on their tongues, I headed back to the bar where Merrie was returning with two empty trays.