Potions Eleven: A Paranormal Witch Cozy (Fair Witch Sisters Mysteries Book 2)

by Christy Murphy

  "But when I did it, it worked."

  I glared at my sister. She shrugged.

  Might as well. "A change for the better," I said and pointed the wand at myself.

  "Very funny," Didi said.

  "I like this look on you," Fred said looking up from his latest napping spot on the arm of the sofa.

  "What?" I asked.

  "You know what," Didi said.

  I had no idea what my sister was talking about so I ran into the bathroom to check. Apparently, in my mind's eye, a better version of me looked almost exactly like my sister.

  "You should be flattered!" I yelled from the bathroom.

  "That's not going to work for our investigation," she yelled back at me.

  We'd taken so long trying to un-magic my makeover that we were late getting to Beverly Hills Prep. I'd opted to just wear sunglasses and a hat.

  "I can't believe you," Didi said.

  "It's not my fault that it didn't fade. Besides, I look like my idealized version of you, not necessarily you. So they might not even notice. It wasn't like they got a good look at you when you were driving the car."

  Didi shook her head. I had to admit, my sister looked really good with platinum blonde hair, and she'd made it so that her eyes were green.

  "I hope we haven't missed them," Didi said.

  We had to park in the same neighborhood we parked in the other day. I was glad that we took care of all the parking tickets. "You read the signs this time, right?" I asked.

  "We're fine." The two of us did a quick jog the two blocks to the school, but I was pretty winded.

  "There they are!" Didi said, pointing to Poppy and Scarlet standing by the same tree as before.

  Oddly, Poppy was wearing regular clothes, a pastel button down and a pair of jeans. Her makeup was light, and she looked surprisingly preppy.

  "The one time their darker clothes would've been seen as appropriate considering they're in mourning, she shows up dressed like she's going to Martha's Vineyard."

  "Be quiet. Let me do the talking," Didi said.

  It hadn't even occurred to me that I would be doing any of the talking anyway. It made me wonder why I was even here.

  "Poppy Barbizon and Scarlet Fort?" Didi asked.

  "Who are you?" Scarlet asked.

  "Diane Fair, private investigator," Didi said, showing them her badge. It was the first time my sister didn't give her disclaimer about not being with law enforcement.

  The two girls exchanged a look. They were definitely surprised.

  "I've been hired by Damien's mother to investigate his death," Didi said.

  "Well, we don't know anything," Scarlet said.

  "Don't be like that, Scarlet," Poppy said. "Do they think it's something other than suicide?"

  "He was obsessed with death," Scarlet said.

  "You don't know him like I do," Poppy countered.

  "I know he wouldn't like you dressed that way," Scarlet said.

  "Is this not your normal dress?" Didi asked.

  "My parents were really upset by Damien's death, and they were just worried about me doing what he did. So I figured I'd just dress like I used to to make them feel better. Especially after seeing how sad Damien's mom was," Poppy explained.

  Scarlet's attitude faded. "Yeah, she was really sad. We're all really sad."

  My heart softened towards Scarlet.

  "Did you talk to Damien the day he died?" Didi asked.

  "I texted him at lunch asking him where he was," Poppy said. "He didn't return my text, which is unusual. People usually return my texts pretty fast."

  "We get it. Everybody loves you, Poppy," Scarlet said.

  "Did you get a chance to speak with him the day he died?" Didi asked Scarlet.

  "We were all together the day before. We met at our tutor's house to do some studying," Scarlet said.

  I could tell Didi had picked up on the fact that Scarlet was lying about the studying; even I could tell. They'd definitely been smoking weed.

  "Did you all leave together?" Didi asked.

  "No, Scarlet and I left first. I was going to spend the night at her house, so we planned to do some," Poppy hesitated before saying, "stuff together before school."

  Didi raised an eyebrow.

  "We were going to wax, okay," Scarlet said.

  "Scarlet!"

  "They're women. They understand hairy. Probably even more so because they're old," Scarlet said.

  Okay. Great.

  "Scar!" Poppy said, turning to her friend. Scarlet looked nonplussed. Poppy turned back to us. "My friend isn't usually like this. She's just upset about Damien."

  "Don't apologize for me," Scarlet said, giving Poppy a gentle shove on the shoulder.

  "Quit it! This is serious," Poppy said.

  "At least now you can get over him," Scarlet said.

  "I was over him," Poppy said.

  Scarlet shook her head no.

  "Well, you need to get over Wilder," Poppy said.

  "Don't be stupid," Scarlet said.

  "So you two were together the whole night before Damien's death, and then you both came to school the day he died?" Didi asked. She must've picked up on a lie somewhere.

  "No, I ended up just dropping her off," Poppy said.

  "My dad texted me. I was in trouble for some online shopping that I wasn't supposed to do. He said I couldn't have anyone over or go out for a week."

  "I thought you were going to come over to my house?" Poppy asked.

  "My folks forgot about everything after they heard about Damien. They're worried about me."

  "So you both spent the night with your folks?" Didi said. The two nodded. "What about this guy Wilder? Have either of you seen him since the death?"

  "He's been around, but we haven't hung out," Poppy said. "He was upset yesterday."

  "Did you see him today?" Didi asked.

  They shook their heads no.

  "Are you wearing like, some kind of hair coloring cream?" Poppy asked Didi.

  I looked over at my sister. The spell was wearing off.

  "You two sort of look alike," Scarlet commented.

  "We're sisters," I said.

  "Sister detectives," Scarlet said. "That's cool."

  Didi gave me a look as if to ask, what's going on.

  "Do you know where we can find Wilder?" I asked.

  They shook their heads. Didi's hair had darkened even more.

  "We gotta go," I said, pulling at her arm. I was worried my spell would wear off at the same time.

  "Was Wilder at school today?" Didi asked as I dragged.

  "He doesn't go here," Poppy said.

  "We'll be in touch. Call us if you see or think of anything," I yelled back as I sped my sister along.

  My sister must've imagined her ideal self as taller, because the height of her arm lowered as we rushed down the sidewalk. She also seemed to get wider as well.

  "What's wrong with you?" Didi said, snatching her arm back.

  I looked over at my sister. She looked like she'd been stung by a bee.

  "Pal, your teeth," she said.

  I ran my tongue around my front teeth and felt the jagged edges.

  "Let's get to the car!"

  See You Again

  We sat in a car in the parking garage across from Good Fortune. We picked a spot way in the back on the top floor that no one liked to use because it was uncovered. Although, I would have preferred someplace darker. I stared in the visor mirror at my broken teeth. "What is it that undid Mom's magic?"

  "How is it that it didn't just fade? Why am I turning into a huge blob?" Didi asked.

  "Only your arms," I said.

  "That makes it worse. It's not even even," she said, showing her one really large arm, and her sort of chubby left arm.

  "Maybe it has something to do with one being your wand hand, and you pointed it harder at your right side."

  "Does that even make any sense?" she asked.

  My sister was a lefty. "I don't know,
none of this makes any sense. And Mom needs to start answering her phone."

  "I'm trying her again," Didi said.

  It was no use.

  "We should just call the tea shop," I said.

  "Do you know the number?"

  "It's got to be online somewhere," I said. My angry fast talking made my tongue hit one of my cracked teeth, and it cut it.

  "Ouch," I said, searching the glove compartment for a napkin.

  "What?"

  "I cut my tongue on my tooth," I lisped.

  "Nobody is picking up," Didi said.

  I looked over at my sister, and her hips looked bigger. "Deeds, are your hips getting bigger?"

  "Oh no!" she said, looking down. "This side is pushing at the door. I feel like Jabba the Hutt."

  "We need to get Mom," I said.

  "You go get her. I'll wait here," Didi said.

  "Deeds, you're expanding at a crazy rate. We need to go now."

  "I can't go out like this."

  "Let's not be shallow. Nobody will even care."

  "Easy for you to say. All you have to do is close your mouth."

  "You've never been vain."

  "I could afford not to be," she said.

  "What about all that stuff you used to say when kids made fun of me in school for being 'chubby chinky'?"

  "That was so racist," Didi said.

  "It was a different time," I said.

  Something brushed against my hand. It was my sister's thighs. I looked over at her. "We should go. You can't run the risk of ballooning up so big they have to cut you out of the car."

  Didi started the car.

  "What are you doing?" I asked.

  "If people are going to see me, I might as well get my big butt closer to the elevator. I can't imagine walking with all this extra weight is going to be easy," she said.

  "Good thinking."

  We drove to the elevator and parked. I got out of the car and waited for her.

  "Pal, can you help me?"

  I grabbed her by the arm, but it was too heavy.

  "Just pull me up on three," she said.

  "That never works. You start pushing up and I'll keep pulling."

  We tried that for a few minutes, and that didn't work.

  "Maybe you should like, roll out," I said.

  "Onto the ground?"

  "You're getting bigger every minute."

  "This is the most undignified thing that's ever happened to me," she said.

  "It'll be fine. It's only me here."

  I should've known that saying that would mean that the instant my sister rolled out of the car she'd run into me, causing me to fall in front of the elevator doors at the exact moment they dinged open.

  I looked up and saw a young woman with a severe, pointy face with unnaturally-shaped lips looking down at me.

  "Sorry, we're just having a little trouble," I said.

  Instead of stopping to help us or even walking around us, the woman actually stepped over me with a disgusted look on her face.

  "That's okay. We're fine!" Didi yelled at the snobby lady.

  "Deeds, roll the other way," I said. "I can't feel my foot."

  "Sorry, pal," she said. I helped push her to her feet.

  "Are you okay?" I asked.

  "Of course not."

  I couldn't help but laugh. I held the elevator doors open for my sister, and she waddled inside.

  I hit the button to the first floor, and my sister leaned over to look at something.

  "What are you looking at?"

  "The maximum weight capacity."

  "It's not that bad," I said.

  "I feel like I'm one of those people in a scooter at Walmart that people make fun of on the internet," Didi said.

  I sort of enjoyed a cranky version of my sister. It made me feel like we had more in common besides our birthday and the same set of relatives.

  Of course, traffic on Beverly was terrible, because it was four o'clock in the afternoon.

  "I don't even care," Didi said, and she stepped straight into traffic. Cars honked as she slowly waddled away across the street.

  I walked next to her, amazed at how fast the other cars stopped.

  When we got inside the store, all eyes turned to us.

  "Hey everybody!" I said.

  Jason rushed over to me. "What happened to your teeth?"

  "It kind of didn't stick," I said. Jason gave me a puzzled look.

  Didi continued to shuffle out of the doorway toward The Cove.

  "Who's your friend?" Jason asked, rushing to catch up to Didi. "Is this your first time here?"

  "It's me, Jason," Didi said, pushing him out of the way.

  Jason's expression remained polite, but confused. "You know, I'm having trouble placing you."

  "That's Didi," I said to Jason.

  "If that's Didi, who are you?"

  I forgot I looked like Didi. "It's me, Joy," I said.

  "That's why your voice is so weird. I thought your sister had a cold."

  Didi walked past a woman carrying a baby. The baby burst into tears, and so did Didi.

  "Tell Mom to meet us in The Cove," I whispered to Jason.

  Mom had us straightened out within a half hour, but it took some doing.

  "Those wands were the worst idea ever," Didi said.

  "I told you so," Mom said.

  "But why did it happen?" I asked.

  "Imagine that magic is a tool like a gun," Mom said.

  "That's a weapon," I said.

  "A weapon is a tool," Didi corrected.

  "Well, then I'm even more right, because magic is both, too," Mom said. "Magic without spells, wands, potions, amulets, all of that stuff, is pure. It's precise. Like a laser beam. Wand-magic is less precise. It does a good job at gathering the magic within you and around you, but when you go to use it, it's more like a shotgun. There's a spray. You've got to be careful when you aim."

  "So if you said something like voilà while waving your wand around," I said, giving my sister a chastising stare, "and a puff of smoke came out of it, it might have an odd effect."

  "Why would someone do that?" Mom said. "Depending on what was in their mind when they said it, any number of things could happen. The only thing worse would be to say 'presto change-o' and wave two wands."

  "Why? What would happen?" Didi asked.

  "Don't get curious," I said.

  "Who knows exactly? But many things would change really fast. And it wouldn't be good," Mom said.

  "No saying those words anywhere near a wand," I said to Didi.

  "You mean 'presto change-o?" Didi teased, scooting closer to the wand.

  "You're the one who grew bigger and lumpier than an oompa loompa," I said.

  "The oompa loompas were small. It was Scarlet that got big," Didi said.

  "Her name was Violet," I said. "But now that you mention it, Scarlet seemed kind of standoffish today. Was she lying?"

  Didi shrugged. "She didn't say anything patently false, but none of what she said had a ring of truth to it either."

  A somewhat tinny version of Hall and Oates' song, "Private Eyes", began to play.

  "Is that your phone?"

  Didi reached into her pocket and grabbed her phone. "That's the song I have set for the telephone number on my business cards," Didi said.

  "Who's calling?"

  "The number is blocked," Didi said as she answered.

  I listened in and tried to figure out what was going on.

  Didi put her hand over the phone and whispered, "It's Poppy."

  I leaned forward to try and hear what she was saying, but to no avail.

  "Do you have any idea where she was yesterday?" Didi asked. She listened. "And they weren't in school either. No, I won't tell."

  I was dying to know what was happening.

  "Have you seen Wilder lately?" Didi asked.

  That was the end of Didi's questions, and she wrapped up the phone call a few minutes later.

  "What
did she say?"

  "Apparently, on the day he died, both Scarlet and Wilder were nowhere to be found."

  "Do you think they might've killed Damien together?" I asked.

  "Maybe, but when I was talking to Poppy she told me that she wasn't at school because she had a doctor's appointment, but she was lying," Didi said.

  "So there's a chance that Poppy called to tell you about Scarlet to try and deflect her own guilt," I said.

  "It's a possibility. It turns out that Wilder's going to see a band play tonight in Hollywood, and Scarlet might be there too. Poppy said she wasn't going to go."

  "So, I take it we're going to go to a club in Hollywood," I said with dread.

  "Looks like it. And I think we should look a little more appropriate for the venue so we don't stick out or get recognized by Wilder."

  "We don't know when the spell will wear off," I said.

  "No, we're never doing that again. I just figured we'd dress more like the other people going to the concert."

  "You mean we're going to go undercover as goths," I said.

  "I might to need to borrow some of your clothes," Didi replied.

  Didi and I walked down Yucca Avenue.

  "I can't believe it's thirty bucks to park at the club," I said.

  "They don't have parking, that's just the fee for valet," Didi said.

  "I knew that," I grumbled. "But we could've just used it anyway. We're billing Evelyn for this." My feet hurt in my old combat boots that I'd used in high school. It was weird to think that I'd even gained weight in my feet.

  "I don't want them in my car. If they adjust the seat, it might not move back."

  "Where is this place anyway?" I asked.

  "It's up here on Ivar Street," Didi said. "And remember what we want. Go in, find Wilder, and ask him questions about where he was the day that Damien died."

  "What if he doesn't want to answer questions?" I asked.

  "Just use the push," Didi said.

  "That's if it works. It didn't work at all last time," I said, still grumpy about how our magic wasn't going our way. Being a new witch wasn't exactly the most fun thing in the world.

  We neared the club, and the line that we saw when we passed by earlier seemed to be a little less.

  "Does everybody look really young?" Didi asked.

  "Maybe we're getting old," I said.

  When we got to the doorman, he asked to see my ID.