“I know,” I said.
“No you don’t,” she said with a contemptuous shake of her head. “You don’t know anything.”
“Yes, I do. And I know, because I spoke to someone who tried to tell me.”
“Ha! I knew you were lying. There’s no one who knows, no one!”
“I spoke to your husband, Mrs. Honeywell.”
She rolled her eyes at me. “Well, that would be a neat trick, dear, because he’s dead!”
I locked my eyes with hers and nodded. “We know. You killed him,” I said. “And in fact, he’s buried right here in this very room, isn’t he?”
There were oohs and aahs from across the room.
“That explains it!”
“Your own husband!?”
“Well I never!”
“But why? Why did you kill him? And why bury him here?”
“Oh you want to know, don’t you?” said Mrs. Honeywell eyeing us distastefully. “One last tale from an old witch. Very well. I’ll tell you. My husband, Thomas,” she said the name with such bitterness I could almost taste it, “was a philandering, cheating, no-good, drunken old fool. I couldn’t put up with him anymore. So. I got rid of him.”
“But why here?” I asked.
She laughed.
“I was clever there, wasn’t I?” she asked. She answered her own question by nodding to herself while the rest of us waited for her to continue. “The Davenports were away on a trip to Europe. They were having the house renovated, including having the basement finished. I knew the workmen were going to be laying concrete over all these pretty floors,” she said, waving her hands expansively, “and so, the night before the concrete was to be poured, I buried old Thomas here.”
She looked around the room, as if searching for something before continuing, “Wait, not here. Over there,” she said, pointing with a finger to the corner where Kiwi and I had seen her husband’s ghost.
“Then what about Fletcher?” asked Donovan. “You’ve caused us a lot of bother. A lot of bother with all this nonsense,” said Donovan, sounding genuinely put out by the whole mess.
“I know,” I said.
“Well?” said Mom.
“She knew that if a developer—like Turner Johnson over there,” I said, pointing at him and being acknowledged with a terse nod, “got their hands on it, they would dig up her husband’s body. And that would lead right back to her. He was probably buried with some of his personal items, right?” I asked, looking at her.
“I buried him with his wallet, his passport, and his bank books. Everything that a man on the run who’d abandoned his wife would take with him,” she confirmed.
“See? They’d find his body and know to investigate her. So she had to do something.”
“He should have sold it to me! He knew I’d never win an auction! I can’t compete with a hoity toity San Francisco developer,” she said, waving her gun in the direction of Turner, “or a New York City big shot,” she said, waving her gun in the direction of the soon-to-be-newlyweds, who both let out little yelps of fear.
“He wouldn’t sell to you, so you killed him. Lovely,” said Jack.
“If you hadn’t been so nosy, I would have got away with it!” said Mrs. Honeywell, glaring at me. “It should be you in prison,” she said, pointing an index finger at me.
“Me?” I asked.
“That’s what the pentagram was for! To show it was a witch! That’s why I told this useless policeman about your trespassing—twice! He should have locked you up and thrown away the key!”
She obviously had a different sense of justice to me.
“Well your little plan didn’t work out, Mrs. Honeywell. Give it up. It’s over. You can’t shoot all of us.”
She looked us over, and it appeared that she seriously was considering shooting all of us.
“Why not? I should! You’re all ruining everything!” she said, spittle flying out of her mouth with each angry word she spat at us.
Ignoring the crazy woman for a moment, my curiosity won out over my fear.
“What in magic’s name are you all doing here though?” I said, addressing Rick and Nina, Mom and Donovan, and Turner Johnson.
Donovan shifted uncomfortably so I turned my gaze to him. “Well?”
“I’m not… I’m not rightly sure,” he said, looking puzzled.
“Fools!” screeched Mrs. Honeywell.
“Well?” I said to her, ignoring the firearm she was pointing at me. I’d just about had enough of all this nonsense and I wasn’t going to let a little old gun bother me.
“I tricked him! I tricked them all! They didn’t know I was a witch so it was easy!”
“But why bring them here?” I asked her.
“So I could buy the property! To win the auction, I needed to get rid of the other buyers!”
“You were going to kill them all!?” I asked in shock.
Nina and Rick resumed their whimpering, while the others just shook their heads.
“Of course not. I was going to scare the heck out of them, and imbue them with an intense fear of the property. They’d all back out and then I’d be able to snap it up at the auction for a fair price, not an inflated San Francisco price!”
“Then why the gun?”
She looked down at it and smiled. “Just in case they needed some extra persuasion. But then you came and ruined it all! You destroyed my magic and these fools finally woke up!”
“We did,” said Donovan. “It suddenly struck me, just after that thunderclap, that I didn’t know why on Earth we were all down here. It had seemed perfectly logical when she first suggested it, but that loud noise seemed to wake us all up!”
“Why are we here?” said Nina to Rick.
He just shook his head at her in response.
“You didn’t fool everyone,” said Mom primly.
“I did! I fooled you! I fooled you all!” screeched Mrs. Honeywell, waving her gun at Mom now.
“No, you didn’t. Tell her, Aria.”
“Mom knew something was going wrong, so she left a clue for me at the café. She left her phone behind.”
“Your magic never worked on me, Margaret. I just came along out of curiosity. And then things went a bit pear-shaped.”
“Curse you! Curse all of you!” said Mrs. Honeywell while still waving around the weapon, her gun-hand shaking like a leaf in strong breeze.
Kiwi nuzzled against the side of my head. “Magic,” he said softly in my ear.
Ever so slowly I nodded my head, and looked over at Mom. She was already looking at me. With a brief flick of her finger, she communicated to me what she was planning to do. I let the corners of my mouth turn up and gave a barely perceptible half-nod to indicate I understood.
“Just put the gun down, Mrs. Honeywell,” I said loudly, making her look my way.
BANG!
Everyone’s eyes flew over to the other side of the room where a puff of smoke had appeared along with the explosive noise.
While she was distracted, I grabbed my athame under my belt, and pointed it in Mrs. Honeywell’s direction. Not as a threat, but to channel my magic.
With Kiwi on my shoulder, my power was increased, and with the help of him and the magic knife, we managed to send out a physical wave of power that flew across the room from us, right into Mrs. Honeywell’s hands.
“Argh!” she said as the gun jerked in her hands before falling to the floor.
Already poised to strike, Jack leaped across the room and kicked the gun away from her before she could snatch it back up again.
“That’s enough of that,” he said firmly.
With another quick look at Mom to confirm what we were doing, we both cast spells to render Mrs. Honeywell’s magic useless for the time being, sapping her energy away and confusing her magical channels.
Jack removed a pair of handcuffs from his belt, and placed them on Mrs. Honeywell’s wrists.
Her look was fierce and bitter as the handcuffs snapped tight and Jack read
her rights.
With Mrs. Honeywell in handcuffs, everyone else let out a collective sigh of relief. Rick and Nina slowly released their grips on each other, and the others began to relax.
“Donovan,” said the developer.
“Yes?” he answered.
“I think perhaps Sequoia Bay isn’t the right location for the California Kings Resort,” he said. “The thing is, customers don’t always have the right level of understanding to appreciate that just because there have been murders here in the past, there won’t necessarily be more in the future.”
The mayor opened and closed his mouth several times before speaking. “But, but, this is a lovely bit of land! The views from the Western edge are stunning. And—”
“Yes, but how many other bodies are buried here? You know the newspapers, and the internet, would be all over it. The Murder Resort is no doubt what they’d call it.”
“They probably would,” I said, helpfully. “I can see the headlines now Money over Murder for New Resort, or perhaps A Room with a Deadly View.”
Donovan and Mom glared at me.
I didn’t care. I’d much rather the property went back to being a family home than being developed. Sequoia Bay was just about perfect how it was.
“Snacks!” said Kiwi, following it up with a loud screech.
“That does sound like a good idea,” said Nina. “I think I might treat myself to an extra lettuce wrap today,” she said turning to her future husband, “if that’s okay?”
“Honey, after what we’ve been through, you can have a quarter pounder!”
The young couple grinned at each other and shared a brief kiss and a giggle.
“I’m going to need everyone to go upstairs and assemble outside. I’m afraid it won’t be snack time quite yet, though we’ll try to look after you at the station. We’re going to have to take witness statements from all of you,” said Jack in the authoritative tone of a police officer.
There were sighs and grumbles all around.
“Can’t you just let us all go?” said Mrs. Honeywell.
Everyone stopped and stared at Mrs. Honeywell, most open-mouthed. The complaining stopped immediately.
“We’ll be down the station right away,” said Rick.
“Us too,” said Mom, holding Donovan’s hand.
“I’ll do my duty,” said Turner Johnson, “then I have to be off. There’s a lovely property thirty miles up the coast with a bit more land than this one that I’ve got my eye on.”
Donovan gave him a glare, but I could see he had already resigned himself to failure for the current resort project.
No doubt there would be other attempts to modernize and develop Sequoia Bay in the future though.
“Cheese puffs?” said Kiwi, drawing another laugh from the crowd.
“Come on,” said Jack to me as the others began to walk out ahead of us, “you can sit in the front again this time.”
“Arrest her for trespassing!” said Mrs. Honeywell angrily. “Arrest her!”
“I probably should, but there’s no evidence of it, I’m afraid. And I’d have to arrest the mayor and everyone else too. No, I think that one is going to fly under the radar, this time,” he said, giving me a look that was somewhere between amusement and warning.
“That’s not fair,” complained Mrs. Honeywell. “She’s as much of a criminal as me.”
“Witch!” screeched Kiwi.
I peered up at him, on my shoulder, remembering something.
When Mrs. Honeywell had walked into the shop and told me that Priscilla had been accusing me of murder, Kiwi had screeched witch then too.
He ruffled his feathers.
“You knew,” I whispered to him softly.
“I told you,” he said, ever so quietly in my ear.
A loud, ringing, cawwing laughter filled the basement as we began to ascend the steps, Kiwi apparently finding the whole situation hilarious.
Chapter 29
With a big pile of the small wrapped gifts in front of me, I glanced at the bin on my left. Nope. The mountain of trinkets hadn’t grown any smaller.
For Nina and Rick’s wedding, I was preparing enough party favors for a small town, which was appropriate since their wedding had grown to almost three hundred people now.
They had decided to invite everyone in Sequoia Bay who wanted to attend, and many of the residents had taken them up on their offer. And that meant a whole heap of party favors to prepare and wrap.
Each present was a little crystal swan, expensive and beautiful.
Ding!
"Please tell me everything is ready," said Nina as she burst into the door.
She was dressed in a running outfit, with her blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, and seemed to be out of breath. She began jogging on the spot, which was certainly a first for my shop.
"We're nearly there, Nina," I said, trying to placate her. "Everything's right on schedule."
"Oh, thank goodness for that. Everything seems to be going well these days, doesn't it?"
I nodded. "And you and Rick seem to be getting on very well now. Did your jitters jitter away?"
She gave me a beaming smile as she continued to jog on the spot. "Oh, yes."
Something worrying occurred to me all of a sudden. I put down the gift I was holding and looked her firmly in the eyes.
"You didn't get someone else to make you a love potion, did you?"
"Oh, no! It was all a bit of a misunderstanding," she said with a happy smile.
"How's that?"
Nina put her hands on her hips and paused her on-the-spot jogging. "Well, the reason Rick suddenly became concerned with the costs is that he had a big deal on the line in New York, and it looked like he was going to lose everything. It looked like the whole thing would fall through!"
"Everything?" I asked with concern.
"Yes, everything! Apart from our Manhattan apartment and his trust fund payments, of course."
Managing to stop myself from rolling my eyes, I said, “Of course. That's why he suddenly became budget conscious? And you got jittery?"
She tilted her head. "It was so silly of me, wasn't it? I should never have doubted that he'd maintain his wealth. The deal came through in the end and now we're richer than ever.” She smiled brightly and I could see the happy little dollar signs flashing in her eyes.
"So you learned a lesson then?"
"Oh, yes. I should have kept my faith in Rick's money."
"Right. Of course, what a great lesson. Are you still planning to participate in the auction?
"Auction? Oh, for the house?"
I nodded.
She shook her head and then stretched her arms up over it, while she kicked up her heels behind her. "That was yesterday! We won it! Got it for a steal!"
Yesterday? I had completely forgotten about it.
Nina continued on happily. "Only one other person showed up to bid. It turned out no one else wanted the Cypress Estate because of all the dead people!”
"But you and Rick weren't put off by that?”
She shrugged. "Honey, we're from New York. There're murders every day and twice on Sundays. If we wouldn't live somewhere because someone died there, we couldn't live anywhere."
"Well, good for you," I said.
I was pleased they had bought the house rather than a developer. Hopefully Sequoia Bay could maintain its sleepy charm for a few more years yet.
"It is, isn't it?" she said, beaming. "Now, gotta dash, I was just checking in with you to make sure everything's okay. Call me if there are any problems."
I nodded. "Will do, but I don't anticipate any. Everything's going to go exactly according to plan."
"Perfect. Bye!"
Nina was already jogging again before she was out the door, yanking it closed behind her with a crash.
While the shop still seemed to be vibrating from the crashing close of the door, a welcome sight appeared outside.
“Sarah!” I yelled, before the door had even o
pened.
Ding!
I was already running across the room before she was inside, and I greeted her with a giant hug when she made it.
“How was your trip?” I asked.
“A-MAZE-ING,” she said, enunciating each syllable like a separate word. “You just have to go to Iowa,” she enthused. “There’s a reason they call it a flyover state—you just have to fly over and visit!”
“Really? That good, huh? Things have been pretty hectic around here too.”
“Oh?” she asked, and then saw the stack of presents I was wrapping on the table across the room. “Oh. I see. Lots of weddings?”
I laughed. “No. Just one wedding. And a whole heap of other trouble. I wish you’d been here to help.”
She gave me a nod. “Sorry, Aria. I would have come back if you asked!”
“I know you would have. That’s why I didn’t tell you. It wouldn’t be fair to ruin your vacation.”
“Thanks, hon. I’ll make us some tea, and we’ll sit down and wrap these up and you can tell me all about it.”
I grinned at her. “Sounds like a plan.”
Ding!
Looking up, I was pleased to see Jack entering the shop.
“I’ll prepare the tea in the back,” said Sarah giving me a wink.
Why did everyone keep implying that Jack and I were an item? The closest we’d had to a date was when he drove me to the police station in his cruiser.
“Aria! How are things?” he asked warmly.
“Wonderful, Jack. I’m just so glad things are getting back to normal.”
“Yes. It’ll be nice to have our sleepy town back. We had a bit of a lucky escape the other day, didn’t we? Old Mrs. Honeywell’s arthritis kicked in at just the right time!”
“Arthritis! Arthritis!” screeched Kiwi from atop the bookcase.
“Oh, is that what happened?” I asked innocently.
He confirmed with a nod. And there was me thinking it was Mom and my magic that made her drop the gun.
“Your mom explained all about it,” he went on.
“Oh?”
Mom explaining things was usually not a good sign.
“Yes. How the pentagram around the body was just to throw us off, and that magic isn’t real.”
“Right. And witches…” Like my mom…
Wedding Bells And Magic Spells Box Set Page 19