Magickal Mystery Lore

by Sharon Pape

  I laughed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that to sound like a command.”

  “Did you ever consider a career in the army? You know—‘be all that you can be.’”

  “I’m pretty sure I’m maxed out. If I take on anything else, I won’t have any time for you.”

  He gasped. “That’s it then—the army can’t have you!”

  Chapter 10

  Beverly was my first customer the next morning. She never came in this frequently. I tried not to take it as a bad omen. She marched in like a woman on a mission. Her nostrils were red and swollen, her eyelids puffy. She dabbed at her nose with a crumpled tissue, looking altogether miserable.

  “According to my doctor, I’ve developed allergies,” she said, sounding a lot like Elmer Fudd. “Can you believe it? Who suddenly develops allergies at my age?”

  I made the mistake of telling her what she didn’t want to hear. “Actually, you can develop allergies at any stage of life.”

  “My question was rhetorical, Kailyn. Let’s leave the diagnosing to the MDs. I’m here because I need something to take care of these horrid symptoms. Hair dressers have to be up close to their customers. Mine are not going to want me anywhere near them like this.” As usual, if Beverly was unhappy, she had a knack for spreading it around. Between her moody personality and her penchant for gossiping, she was lucky she was a talented stylist or her shop would have closed a long time ago.

  She collapsed into the customer chair, sniffling and snorting and told me to bring her the best products I had to fix her problem. I was tempted to say, It’s a good thing you clarified that or I might have brought you the second-rate ones. But Beverly’s sense of humor was deficient at the best of times.

  I returned with a few different options, including Nettle Leaf and local honey. They all worked fairly well on their own, but with the addition of the Wilde family secret ingredient, they worked like magick. “Try each of these individually so you can decide which you prefer,” I said as I rang up her purchase.

  “Did you know that Ava was having an affair with Elliot Marsh?” she said without preamble. She liked to shock people, hit them with the latest news from the grape vine and feast on their reactions.

  “Is that so?” I said evenly, robbing her of the pleasure.

  “You know that Marsh is Lolly’s son-in-law, right?” Beverly was clearly frustrated with my lackluster response.

  “Yes, I do”

  “And that’s all you have to say on the subject?”

  “It’s none of my business. Or yours, for that matter.” Beverly narrowed her puffy eyes at me, probably considering a scathing comeback. Instead she chose to impart more bad news.

  “Everyone believes either Lolly or Danielle killed Ava. They had motive and opportunity.” She paused to wipe her nose and judge if I was properly shocked. I maintained my neutral expression and added a little smile.

  Denied again, she went for broke. “They could have killed her in the shop, rolled her out into the yard and claimed they found her there and were being framed by the real killer. Anyone else would have had a much harder time planting the body. Lolly keeps the chain-link fence around the backyard locked. Another killer would have had to throw the body over the fence. Not an easy thing to accomplish without being seen—especially during the day.” Which was probably why the killer had chosen the day of the New Camel Fair to take her life. With everyone at the fair, all the shops were closed.

  Beverly had barely made it through her closing argument before a coughing fit seized her. I had to go over to Tilly’s to get her a glass of water.

  “I’m sure Detective Duggan has thought of all that as well,” I said, as her respiratory system calmed. When she was ready to leave, I handed her the mini tote with her purchases.

  She managed a stiff thank you as she stepped away from the counter. But then she turned back to me. “If I were a gambler, I’d bet good money that Lolly had a hand in Ava’s death.”

  “And I’d take that bet,” I said. Sashkatu, who’d apparently had enough of her, jumped down from his ledge onto the counter, hissing and crouching as if he was about to leap onto her. I winced for the pain it must have caused his poor joints. Beverly shrieked and ran for the door. “I should call the police on you for endangering the public with such a dangerous animal—” She slammed the door shut behind her, cutting off her own words.

  Sashki padded back along the counter to me with a definite swagger and fixed me with a look that said, that’s how to handle such a distasteful creature. I’ll expect some remuneration in my dinner bowl.

  * * * *

  During my lunch hour, I called Danielle. She didn’t seem at all surprised to hear from me. I had to assume that Lolly had prepared her and probably stressed the fact that she had nothing to fear from me. The sooner I found the killer, the sooner the cloud of suspicion hanging over the town would evaporate. I refused to think about the possibility that the killer was Dani. It wouldn’t be, I assured myself, because it couldn’t be.

  She said she was available the next day at ten o’clock. Her two older kids were in school full time, but the youngest was done with preschool before lunch. It meant opening my shop late, but the sooner I was satisfied about Dani’s innocence, the better I would sleep at night. Although I hated to admit it, Beverly may have gotten to me after all.

  I’d barely hung up the phone when it rang in my hand. “Hi stranger,” Elise said. “Can I interest you in some beef stew?”

  I had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich waiting for me behind the counter for lunch and no idea what dinner would be. Beef stew sounded fantastic. “When did you have time to cook it? Or did Zach take up cooking?”

  She laughed. “Zach? You mean the kid who would live on pizza if I let him? Nope. All the credit goes to the slow cooker I’ve owned for ages and never used. I dragged it out of the closet in desperation. The boys and I need to eat smarter. Less takeout, more home-cooking. I threw the meat, potatoes and veggies in this morning before I left for work and it cooked while I did my best to mold young minds.”

  “So you don’t actually know how well your experiment turned out.”

  “If it’s terrible we can order pizza. Say yes, please say yes. It’s been weeks since I’ve seen you and I’m in desperate need of adult company.”

  “Not to worry—you had me at beef stew. I’ll be over after I feed my kitties.”

  * * * *

  Noah opened the door and gave me a quick kiss on my cheek. He wanted to know what was in the foil covered plate in my hand. “Dessert, no peeking,” I said, sweeping the cake up out of his reach. He was growing so fast, I wouldn’t be able to get away with that maneuver for much longer. He ran off to the family room where it sounded like a superhero war was being fought on TV.

  I found Elise in the kitchen, setting the table in the nook. She grabbed me into a hug that almost knocked my surprise dessert onto the floor. I shrieked and juggled the cake, narrowly avoiding disaster.

  “You didn’t have to bring anything,” she said when she realized what had almost happened. “But since you did, what is it?” She reached for the edge of the tin foil—like mother like son, but I didn’t try to stop her. Her eyes widened. “Is that one of Tilly’s amazing coffee cakes?”

  “I try to keep one in the freezer for just such an occasion.”

  “If I did that it wouldn’t be in there for very long. And I’d be buying bigger pants.” She called the boys to dinner and started ladling the stew onto the plates. It smelled amazing. Noah put his cell phone in the docking station on the counter and slid into his seat. Zach thundered down the stairs and into the kitchen. His face lit up when he saw me—the perfect antidote for Beverly.

  “I didn’t know you were coming, Aunt K.” He gave me a peck on the cheek, before sliding in next to his brother.

  “I knew,” Noah taunted. “You would have known too if y
ou weren’t upstairs talking to your girlfriend all afternoon.” I heard the pain in his retort. They’d reached the great divide. Zach was in love, and Noah didn’t understand what had suddenly changed and stolen his brother away.

  Elise looked at Zach with one eyebrow arched. “Forget something?” He did a great rendition of the teenagers’ long suffering sigh, got up and docked his phone too. We served the boys first, then took our plates to the table. Zach dug into the stew like he hadn’t eaten in a week. Noah picked at it, ate a little, and pushed the rest around his plate.

  “So guys, what’s new?” I asked, hoping to brighten the mood. “Noah, has baseball started yet?” He nodded “Still playing shortstop?” He nodded again. I felt like a comedian who couldn’t connect with his audience. It was a tough room tonight.

  “When can I come watch you in a game?”

  He perked up a bit. “Mom has the schedule.”

  “Aunt Kailyn and I will work it out,” Elise said.

  “Ten, fifteen years from now when you’re playing for the Yankees, I want to be able to say, ‘I watched you play when you were just starting out.’” That finally got a smile from him.

  “Except I may want to play for the Mets,” he said, clearly getting into it and testing my loyalty.

  “I think I could live with that.”

  “I couldn’t,” Zach protested. “In this family, it’s always been the Yanks or no one.”

  “Well that’s too bad,” Noah said. “I get to make up my own mind, right Mom?”

  “Yes, but you won’t have to make that decision for a good long time.”

  “It’s not up to you, it depends on which team offers to sign you,” Zach muttered under his breath.

  “Ma,” Noah whined.

  “Zach—please let it go.” The rest of dinner continued in much the same fashion. I understood why Elise had begged for some adult time.

  After dinner and dessert, the boys went their separate ways. Noah went back to his movie, Zach grabbed his phone and bounded up the stairs. “Guys,” Elise shouted after them, “you’d better have finished your homework.” She made us tea and we went to sit in the living room.

  “The constant bickering is exhausting,” Elise said when we were settled together on the couch. “They’ve always done it to some degree, but now there’s resentment and malice in it. I’m glad you got to see it for yourself or you might have thought I was exaggerating.”

  “As an only child I have nothing to compare it with,” I said, “but I feel for you.”

  “I’m afraid I’m becoming part of the problem. By the time I get home from teaching, I’m tired from dealing with more than a hundred other teenage personalities.”

  I sipped my tea and set it down on the low table in front of us. “I thought you were enjoying teaching again.”

  “I do enjoy teaching. It’s the rest of it I’m struggling with.” She sighed. “Part of the problem is a new kid in one of my classes, Logan Sheffield. He transferred here from a private school and he’s having a hard time connecting with the other kids. From day one, he came in with a chip on his shoulder—everything here is crappy compared to his last school. Maybe that’s true and maybe it’s just a defense mechanism, but no one wants to buddy up to an attitude like that.”

  “What do his other teachers think of him?” I asked.

  “We actually had a meeting about him. They’re finding the same problems I am.”

  “Has anyone talked to his parents?”

  “I talked to his mom. Dad was at work. She was very nice and she sounded sincerely concerned about Logan. But she’s having problems with him at home too. It seems they’ve had some financial difficulties recently. She didn’t go into the details. That’s why they had to pull him out of the private school. In fact she was going to look for a part time job, but she and her husband agreed that she needs to be around for Logan at this point.”

  “Is there a school psychologist?”

  Elise nodded. “Failing like the rest of us.”

  “I would never consider using a spell on him or any child, but maybe I can help you deal better with all the stress you’re under at school and at home.”

  “You can do that? I mean, I know you can do just about anything, but could there be any downside to it?”

  “No, but if you should decide you don’t want it, I can reverse it.” I let Elise consider my offer without elaborating on the benefits. I didn’t want to influence her decision. I picked up my mug. The tea had cooled enough for me to drink it.

  “I’m in,” she said brightly. “The alternative would be asking my doctor for pills and I don’t want to go that route. So, what do I have to do?”

  “You’ll need to write the spell down with pencil and paper. Whenever you feel your stress level rising, just repeat the words three times.” Elise went to the kitchen and returned with the requisite pencil and paper.

  “Ready.”

  “This is an old spell handed down from my grandmother to my mother and on down to me. I believe it goes all the way back to my great, great, great grandmother—I’ve lost track of how many greats are involved.”

  She smiled. “In other words, it has stood the test of time. Thanks for telling me that.”

  I recited the spell slowly enough for her to write it down, and then I asked her to say it with me:

  I can cope, this much I know,

  Though the winds of stress may blow.

  I can cope, this much I know;

  I will calm and I will grow.

  “That’s easy enough,” she said.

  “Remember, spells get their power from your belief in them. You can’t just pay them lip service. You have to take them into your core, since you don’t come by the gift naturally. It may take you some time to get the hang of it. Don’t give up. I know you’ve got what it takes.” Elise was bobbing her head, hanging on every word. “And now I’m going to shut up, before I become part of your stress.”

  We spent the next forty minutes talking and laughing about more mundane things past and present. By the time I left, she was in a noticeably better frame of mind.

  Chapter 11

  From the top of her naturally blonde head to the tip of her petite toes, Dani Marsh looked nothing like her mother. And their differences didn’t stop there. Whereas Lolly had never met a ruffle she didn’t like, Dani was a pared down conservative. Ruffles, bows and sequins were anathema to her. When she was a child, Lolly would buy her frilly dresses, and Dani would promptly chop off the hated bows and ruffles, rendering the garments unwearable in the process. In the end, Lolly gave up and made peace with her daughter’s right to be her own person. It was better for their relationship and easier on her wallet.

  I arrived at Dani’s house at the appointed hour with two coffees and two brownies from the Breakfast Bar. She lived between New Camel and Watkins Glen in the big colonial where Elliot, her almost-ex, had lived since birth. His parents, who had moved to Florida, gave the house to their only son as a wedding gift. It was by any measure an impressive gift. But Dani didn’t like colonials. She thought they looked pretentious, especially if they had Doric columns, as this one did. Since she couldn’t change the exterior of the house, she insisted on redecorating the interior in her spare, utilitarian style. As it turned out, the five bedrooms came in handy. She and Elliot filled three of them with kids, and still had one left for an office/guest room.

  My hands full, I was trying to press the bell with my elbow. Dani must have seen me walking up to the house, because she opened the door at that moment. I was caught off balance and stumbled over the threshold. I thrust the cardboard coffee tray and bag of brownies at her in case I went down. She grabbed them and backed away from my bumbling entry. I surprised both of us, by managing to stay upright.

  Once I was no longer auditioning for a role in a Three Stooges reboot, I was able to take a go
od look at Dani. The toll her husband’s dalliance had taken on her would have been evident to even a casual acquaintance. It had been made worse, no doubt, by the murder of his paramour and the suspicion cast on Dani. She looked tired, but not the kind of tired that a good night’s sleep could fix. It was the emotionally-drained tired of the soul that’s only cured by the passage of time. She was pale and drawn, her usually sparkling hazel eyes, dull. We touched cheeks and air-kissed hello.

  She led the way into the kitchen and set the coffees and brownies on the hexagonal table near the bay window. “I don’t know how you take your coffee, so I left it black,” I explained, taking a seat.

  “Perfect, I like it with just a drop of sweetener—easy enough to add.” She took the lid off the coffee and added a packet of faux sweetener to it.

  I took the brownies out of the bag. “I imagine Detective Duggan has already called on you. With walnuts or without?”

  “Without, thank you,” she said, making me glad I’d bought both. “Duggan was waiting outside in his car when we got home that day, you know, the day my mom found… her. The kids were overstimulated, and I was so worried about my mom and so jumbled inside—it was the worst time to be questioned.”

  “That’s exactly why he did it. The worst time for you equals the best time for him. He was hoping you’d slip and divulge something incriminating about yourself or your mom.”

  Dani broke off a small piece of the brownie and put it in her mouth. “There was nothing to divulge.”

  I drank my coffee, finding it harder than I’d expected to question her about so personal and painful a subject as her husband’s infidelity, especially since she was still going through the divorce and all it entailed. “I’m sorry to have to ask you about Elliot and Ava,” I said. “If there was any way around it, I would take it in a heartbeat.”

  Dani nodded. “My mom and I are just grateful for your help. Pretend I’m a stranger.”

  “Thank you,” I said, knowing it wasn’t possible. “As you’re aware, the fact that Ava was having an affair with your husband, gives you and your mom a motive to kill her. The fact that she frequented your mom’s shop and was found dead behind it means you both had opportunity unless you have a verifiable alibi for that day and time. Do you have a key to the shop?” I was praying she’d say no.