Wedding Bells And Magic Spells Box Set

by A. R. Winters

  I nodded. Could be. Though they must have done it quite soon after entering the shop, as they had only been there a short time when Jack discovered it was open. No doubt Jack had by now asked the other police officers if one of them had opened it, but that was information that we weren’t privy to. And Jack wouldn’t tell me either—even though we were becoming somewhat close, he did everything by the book.

  And the book did not allow the sharing of information about an ongoing investigation with friends, even if they happened to own the shop which was the scene of the crime.

  “If it wasn’t one of the policemen, where does that leave us?”

  “Assuming you didn’t let Carrie and the killer in,” said Mom, staring at my face as if to look for a confession but finding nothing apart from me rolling my eyes at her, “they must have let themselves in, with a key.”

  “Right. But there aren’t that many keys.”

  “Those brides were very eager. Do you think one of them bribed someone for a key?”

  I shook my head. “No way. The only people with keys are me, Sarah, and Zola.”

  “Couldn’t one of the brides have slipped Sarah some money for one night with the key?”

  “No way! Sarah would never, ever do something like that. She’d never betray my trust like that. And you know her, she doesn’t even care about money. Can’t bribe that one.”

  “Then it must have been Zola.”

  I shook my head again. “Zola? But why would she do something like that? That wouldn’t make any sense at all.”

  Mom shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe, maybe not. We barely even know the woman.”

  I couldn’t believe it.

  This was almost as big an event for Zola as it was for me. Surely she wouldn’t have handed out the key I’d just given her to some bride—or murderer—she’d never met, would she?

  But what other explanation was there?

  I wanted to trust Zola—I really did. But now Mom had planted a little seed of doubt in my mind. I hoped it wouldn’t grow into a giant tree of doubt. But knowing Mom, she’d be watering my little seed and zapping it with rays of mistrust in the days to come, until it was a thriving forest of doubt.

  If I let her.

  “Maybe there’s something else we haven’t thought of,” I said.

  “Like what?”

  “Maybe there was another way to open the door. You know, like a locksmith can do.”

  “Was Carrie a locksmith?”

  “Not that I know of,” I admitted with a little laugh.

  “Not a locksmith!” said Mom with a sudden urgency to her voice. “A witch!”

  “Eh?”

  “A witch must have opened the door with a spell. And there’s only one witch in Sequoia Bay who would be involved in a murder in a bridal shop of all places.”

  Oh no. I knew who she was talking about.

  A witch I’d had more than one run-in with.

  A witch of dark magic, hidden power, and morals that were from a code so foreign to me as to be completely unintelligible.

  “Hazel Crane!” we both said together.

  “I’m going to give her a piece of my mind,” said Mom.

  And with that, she spun on her heels, marched out of the dressing room and then out of the shop to presumably give Hazel Crane a tongue lashing.

  “Please don’t let anything else go wrong…” I said to myself as I heard the door to the shop slam with far more vigor than was required.

  Chapter 6

  What are you supposed to do after a dead body is found in your shop, just before the greatest sale in your store’s history begins?

  The internet didn’t have any good answers. Nor did any of my magic books. I was just going to have to figure it out as I went along.

  The day after I discovered the body, I was feeling morose. I woke up late, skipped breakfast, and Kiwi and I walked down the stairs to the shop.

  Just after we entered the shop, my phone began to buzz. It was Jack. But was it Jack Bowers the police officer, or Jack Bowers the guy I was kind of, sort of, maybe dating?

  “Hello?”

  “Aria, how are you?”

  “Great. Except for, you know, everything.”

  His wry chuckle cheered me up a little, but only in the same way an icepick can chip away at a glacier. It helped, but not a lot.

  “I’ve got some good news for you.”

  “Good. I need it.” I pressed the phone against my ear hard as if to force the good news in.

  “The forensics team got everything they needed yesterday. The whole place has been comprehensively photographed, searched and examined, and we’re all done.”

  “Done?”

  “I mean, you can open the shop again. I pushed everyone very hard to get it over with as quickly as possible so you could get your business running again.”

  I smiled softly. That was kind of him, but would it be enough to save the sample sale and my business? I was dubious, but I’d give it a go.

  “Thank you, Jack. That’s very good of you.”

  “No problem. By the way, I was wondering...” His voice had changed from his gruff policeman voice to his slightly friendlier ‘off duty’ voice, as I was beginning to think of it.

  The corners of my mouth turned up completely of their own accord. “Yes?”

  “Never mind, it’s not the time.”

  “No, no, go on. Now is as good a time as any.”

  “I was wondering, do you play mini-golf?”

  I laughed. “Poorly. You?”

  “Oh, I’m terrible. Sounds like we’d be a good match. I know everything’s a bit hectic right now, but are you interested in a game soon?”

  It was funny. When Jack was being a police officer, he was so serious and composed. But when he was trying to be a normal person, a layer of shyness seemed to drop over him. It was really quite endearing.

  “Sure. That sounds great. We’ll fix a date soon. Things are still a bit up in the air right now.”

  “Great. Good luck, Aria. If there’s anything more I can do to help, please let me know.”

  “Will do. Thanks, Jack.”

  I began to hum to myself happily, which lasted all of about three seconds. Then I blinked and realized what a state my shop was in.

  The front door rattled gently, and I saw it was Sarah, waiting to get in. I quickly opened the door and let her inside.

  It wasn’t yet 9 a.m. and Sarah was here already. She usually arrived late, not early. “Sarah, are you okay?”

  Sarah grinned at me proudly. “I knew we’d have a lot to do today, so I decided to come in a couple of hours early!”

  I cocked my head at her. “A few hours early? You’re just... ten minutes early.”

  She blinked in surprise. “Huh. Must have lost some time along the way. Still, I’m here now, and still early.” She cast her eyes around the shop and grimaced.

  “I know,” I said. “I don’t know how the police managed it, but they’ve filled the shop with dust and dirt, and every display has been ruined.”

  “It looks like there’s been a break-in!”

  I was about to say something dumb when Sarah broke out into laughter and I couldn’t help but join her. Always the kidder.

  “Yeah, it sure does. But on the positive side, Jack says we can open the shop up again and begin the sale. The police are done here now.”

  “We’ll need to let everyone know about it again. And we’ve got to get everything in order. So should we aim for tomorrow? I’ll try and figure out how to get the word out.”

  “Thanks, Sarah. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Hopefully Zola will drop by soon to help. If she doesn’t, I’ll give her a call. She can announce to her fans online about the sale starting tomorrow. That should really help get the word out.”

  “Ooh, I just thought of something!”

  “What’s that?”

  “Do you think, maybe, this will actually increase the number of customers? You know, all publicity is go
od publicity and all that?”

  “Hmm. Maybe? But I don’t know if it really applies to our industry, you know? Dead brides probably won’t encourage living ones to drop by...” It was a nice thought, but seemed unlikely.

  “We’ll see, I guess,” said Sarah and I couldn’t do anything but agree.

  We began to clear up. I decided to start by removing all the yellow police tape that was still lingering, while Sarah began to refill the basket that held the bath bombs with their broken remnants.

  Ding!

  For once, I wasn’t too put out to see the person who entered.

  “Hi, Mom,” I said in greeting.

  She breezed in, her dyed blond hair seeming to float around her shoulders as she let the door swing shut behind her.

  “Good news and bad news, I’m afraid,” said Mom.

  “Oh?”

  “I spoke to Hazel.”

  “And how’d that go? At least you’re not a newt or some other beastie, so it can’t have gone that badly.”

  Mom laughed. “That witch couldn’t harm a hair on my head,” she said confidently, though I was pretty sure she was lying. “Anyway, after I calmed her down—”

  “Why did you need to calm her down?” I asked, interrupting her.

  “Oh, she was annoyed,” said Mom airily.

  “What was she annoyed about?”

  “Do you have to keep interrupting? If you must know, she was annoyed because I accused her of magicking the door open and killing that bride,” said Mom, with a flick of her fingers as if waving away a minor, inconsequential detail.

  “Right. You should have been a diplomat, Mom,” I said jokingly.

  “I know, dear, I know,” she said. I didn’t think she was joking.

  Shaking my head and containing my smile, I prodded her to go on.

  “Well, after she’d calmed down from her little tirade, she explained to me that she had nothing to do with it all, and I believed her. I am skilled in the art of detecting deceit, and while she is a very, very deceitful witch, in this case I am confident she’s telling the truth.”

  “Hmm. Well, that makes sense. As far as we know, Hazel has no connection to the bride.”

  Mom nodded. “I think I’ve done my bit for now! Anyway, I just wanted to let you know. Keep you filled in.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “We’re going to clean up the shop and re-do the displays today, and hopefully start the sale tomorrow. Do you want to stay and help?”

  She shook her head. “No, I’m afraid I can’t today. I’ve got a lunch date with the mayor.”

  Mom likes to brag about her on-again, off-again relationship with Donovan Charlston, preferring to use his title rather than his name when there was anyone around she could potentially impress.

  This time, it was because Sarah was in the room. Mom was completely oblivious to the fact that Sarah had as much use for ‘celebrities,’ as Mom thought the mayor to be, as she would for a chocolate teacup.

  “But—” I began, but Mom had become conveniently deaf. One of the perks of age, I suppose.

  She was out the door and pulling it shut again before I could get the rest of what I was going to say out.

  “What were you going to say?” asked Sarah.

  “Well, I was just going to point out it’s not even nine fifteen yet. A bit early for lunch, don’t you think?”

  Sarah cocked her head at me. “It depends what time zone you’re in, really,” she said thoughtfully, before bending over to continue picking up the remains of my bath bombs.

  I stared at Sarah for several seconds, trying to put into words a suitable response before giving up, shrugging my shoulders to myself since there was no one else to benefit from the gesture, and getting back to work.

  By 11 a.m., we’d made considerable progress. Any stray wandering in would no longer gasp and say, ‘Who died here?’ or ‘Did a bomb go off?’ or ‘Did you have an elephant on the loose?’

  They’d just think I ran a poorly managed and looked after shop.

  Still, progress comes in small increments.

  Ding!

  “Zola!”

  The designer gave me a half-smile and a nod as she entered.

  She looked like she hadn’t slept in a month and appeared even more harried and stressed than me, which was in some ways surprising since her whole business wasn’t on the line, unlike mine.

  But still, artistic types can be a bit more emotional than us regular Joes and Jos. And Arias.

  “Hello Aria, Sarah,” said Zola.

  Today she didn’t seem like the glamorous dress designer to the stars that she was, but instead just a tired, overworked woman—the kind you can see in any office or on any street any day of the year. The mystique and pizazz that she had so exuded when we first met seemed to have completely disappeared.

  “Good news!” I said.

  She slowly shook her head, looking as if she was about to say something substantial before giving up and just offering us an, “Oh?”

  “The police have given us permission to re-open the store. We were thinking we would start the sample sale tomorrow. Sarah is going to try and start spreading the news, and if you could make a post for your followers, I bet we can get the word out to most of the—”

  When I was just getting into my stride, she held out her hand in a stop sign. So I did. When I’d ceased speaking, she said something that made my heart drop.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t do it. This has all been too much for me. I can’t handle it, I’m afraid. The death, my favorite dress... no, I’m afraid it can’t go on. I’ve decided to cancel the sale.”

  I could feel all my blood draining out of my face. This could be the end of my business.

  “But the police said we can go ahead. They said it’s okay. People will still come, Zola,” I pleaded.

  She shook her head. “I’m sure they would all come. But I just can’t deal with it. No, I’m here to pack up my dresses. I’ll try again next year. I need to withdraw and recuperate. I’m going to go on a retreat.”

  Sarah and I looked at each other and she gave me a sympathetic smile. I managed to stop myself from weeping, but my thoughts were running at a million miles an hour as I ran through all the implications—the days and days we were closed, the costs of advertising the event, the work that had gone into it all, the bad blood from disappointed and angry brides... the list went on and on.

  “Are you sure?” asked Sarah, a pleading look on her face.

  Zola gave a firm nod.

  Staring at her, I felt myself getting incredibly annoyed.

  On one hand, I could kind of see her point of view, but on the other, I had a much tougher time of it than her and I wasn’t giving up.

  She could afford the loss; I didn’t think I could. She didn’t even need to be there! If she just left the dresses, I could still hold the sale. But no, she seemed completely firm in her convictions and I was completely firm in mine: it was so unfair.

  “Can I have the key back, before you leave?” I asked her, my voice now cold.

  For a split second, a look flashed across her face before she got it back under control.

  It was so fast I almost thought I’d imagined it. Almost.

  But no, there had definitely been a flash of something. Was it worry? Fear? Anger? I couldn’t quite be sure but it hadn’t escaped my notice.

  “I don’t have it with me right now. I’ll have it mailed to you,” said Zola.

  Sarah and I stared at her. I was about to ask a follow-up question when something even more worrying happened.

  Ding!

  “Good morning,” said Jack Bowers in his firm brook-no-nonsense police voice.

  Sarah and I offered our greetings, while Zola seemed to go pale and didn’t say anything.

  “What can we do for you?” said Sarah with a smile.

  “I, uh, don’t need anything from the shop today,” said Jack. “It was actually Miss Cates that I was here to see.”

  Sarah and I exchanged
a knowing glance.

  “I’m very busy,” said Zola in a small voice. “Can it wait?”

  Jack shook his head. “I’m afraid not. I need you to come with me down to the station.”

  He stepped toward her. For a moment, I thought he might pull out some handcuffs, but instead he just gave her a stern look. When she didn’t immediately move, he added, “Now, if you please.”

  Zola gave a small nod, and while Sarah and I watched, Jack led the famous dress designer out of our shop and into his waiting police cruiser.

  “What have we done?” I said to Sarah, wringing my hands together.

  “We haven’t done anything!”

  “But he’s taking her down the police station! If she... you know… then it’ll all be our fault!”

  Sarah shook her head. “We’re only responsible for our own actions Aria, not what others do.”

  “But I invited her here! I even put the charm in the envelope to help persuade her! If she turns out to be a murderer, then it’ll be my fault for bringing her to Sequoia Bay. And the whole town knows it was me who brought her here.”

  Sarah walked over to me and embraced me in a hug, patting my back to soothe me. “Look, we don’t know that’s why Jack is talking to her at all. We’re jumping to conclusions. The police are probably talking to lots of people, aren’t they? It’s what they do. I mean, they talked to you yesterday, didn’t they?”

  I nodded into her shoulder while sniffling, managing an “uh huh.”

  “Let’s try and find out what’s going on. See if the police are talking to other people. Let’s not jump to conclusions yet, ’kay?”

  It made sense, I supposed.

  “How will we do that?” I asked between sniffs. “You know Jack will never tell us about official police business. And we’ve got to pack up all these dresses!”

  Sarah gave me a grin. “Don’t worry about the dresses. If Zola isn’t arrested, and she really wants to cancel the sale, she can just go ahead and pack them up herself. We’ve done enough for her as it is. And while Jack might not tell us what the police are up to, I know a person who will.”

  “Oh?”

  Sarah just gave me a grin.

  “Cheese puffs?” said Sarah to Kiwi, who was perched up on the bookcase.

  “Cheese puffs!” he shrieked before flying down to land on my shoulder.