Across from the end of the bed was a wooden chest of drawers with two picture frames; one of the entire coven and another of her daughter as a toddler. I grabbed the photo of the coven, it was a picture from the second full-moon ceremony. I sighed. We were a lot younger back then. “You’ll be missed,” I said, stroking her smiling face.
Leaving her bedroom, I noticed the padlock on the storage room had been cut and the door sat agape on its hinges. Much like the backroom of the café, this room had been Marissa’s haven of ingredients.
Nudging the door with the end of the torch, it swung open. Inside was unlike anything I expected. Dropped the book and the torch, a strange cold tingle crawled up the back of my neck. The room was empty. I knew the room had more than a supply of empty space, it was complete with crystals and all types of artefacts Marissa had collected.
As I knelt to pick them from the ground, a thunderous clang and smash came from below. My body quivered still, clenching the items I closed my eyes and stood straight. You can do this, Gwen.
“Hey!” I shouted, pounding my feet on the floorboards. I ran with fury down the stairs but they were gone, and they’d taken the tape from the front door with them. I turned on the spot, shinning the torch in all directions. “Bless the Goddess. Laurie, where are you?”
That was it, I couldn’t stay around any longer, not while there was someone trying to rob the place. I grabbed a plastic bag and called out for Laurie once again.
“Psst!” I forced between my teeth. “I’m leaving.” I approached the bicycle at the end of the drive, thankful that they hadn’t stolen it and the police hadn’t returned.
Once I was home safe, I relaxed against the inside of the front door and dropped the torch at my feet. August waddled out from the kitchen, still under the hazy spell of catnip. I sighed, pulling Marissa’s book of shadows from the bag and holding it to my chest.
“I couldn’t find Laurie,” I told him.
Still unresponsive.
I placed Marissa’s book on the kitchen counter. I opened the book up to the space where pages had been torn. “Let’s see what’s missing.”
My phone rang from the depths of my hand bag in the hallway by the front door. I jumped to it, answering before the second ring. “Hello?” I answered the unknown caller ID.
“It’s Allegra,” her calming voice replied. “What did you find?”
A deep sigh left me. “I need a tea,” I said, pressing the phone against my ear from my shoulder. “Her house is empty, in spirit, and in general, either she was robbed, or the police have taken what they can get their mitts on.”
Allegra hummed. “You manage to find Laurie or salvage anything, what about her client book?”
I filled the teakettle with water before placing it on a hob to boil. “Yes, I found—”
“You did?”
“Not her client book, her book of shadows,” I said.
“Two of three isn’t bad.”
I shook my head. “I couldn’t find Laurie, I tried, but she must’ve fled. She could be the one to open the entire thing, she could tell us what happened to Marissa.”
“Then one of three,” she said.
“And someone was there with me, someone smashed something while I was upstairs.”
She gasped. “Oh, Gwen, I hope you got a look at them.”
“I tried chasing after them, I didn’t even get a glimpse.”
“Tomorrow we need to see the book, we need to discuss what happened,” she said. “I think we all need to be careful, especially over the full moon. I’ve put my feelers out, but everyone is already prepared, they’re offering condolences, but what help is that, we can’t protect ourselves with someone’s well wishes,” she grumbled. “I should go, I have to feed Silver.”
“Okay, I’m going to look through her book and drink some tea.”
She cut the call. Allegra’s familiar was a hare named Silver, I’m not sure I would’ve chosen a hare, they’re needier, and clumsier creatures. Cats have the agility to go around in secret, or if you’re Marissa’s cat, not be found at all.
I poured myself a cup of tea, dosed with extra lemon balm to take the edge off. Some witches become addicted to the effects of calming tea, I wasn’t one of them yet, not that I would care to admit anyway, but I was one who had relied heavily these on it these past couple of weeks and now, being on my own, it was essential.
Nestling the cup between my thighs, I sat in the conservatory, flicking through the pages of Marissa’s book. She had extremely neat handwriting for someone who was always surrounded by clutter. I found myself in envy of it, of course, I’d briefly seen the inside of her book before, but it was nothing more than a glimpse, I wasn’t studying it like I was now.
I read the pages before and the pages after what had been torn but nothing helped me connect the dots as to which pages were stolen. I looked at the pages a little further, it appeared that perhaps the two pages were connected, perhaps to make a complete potion or spell.
It wouldn’t have been much use but to another witch.
CHAPTER 8
I woke the next morning with Marissa’s book beside me in bed; I wasn’t letting it out of my sight. Someone was after her book, destroying her house in the process, I couldn’t let them come into my house and find it, not that they would, and August was about as useful as a fish out of water protecting the house.
I’d slept for as long as I could allow myself. A new day meant a new opportunity to find answers. Before my alarm rang out, I was already in the kitchen making coffee and preparing ingredients for pancakes.
“Morning,” August said, strolling into the kitchen.
I stood at the granite counter, squinting at him as he sauntered over to paw his bowl. “Are you going to tell me how you got into the catnip?”
“I don’t remember,” he said.
Which was right on the money, catnip really did a number on him, it was the only way we used to travel with him. I could never leave him alone in the house when we went away. He’d spend the entire duration hooked on a small ball and every time he clawed at it with anxiety he’d be left flat on the floor with his tongue protruding.
“Well, yesterday, if you care enough, I went to Marissa’s house to try and find Laurie,” I said, adding milk to my pancake batter. “I wanted to know if you saw her.”
“No one’s been in or out,” he said, pawing at his empty food dish again.
I rolled my eyes. “I know that.” I had wards around the house, similar to the wards in the backroom of the café; nobody was getting in unless they were invited in, or a fellow witch and her familiar. “I’ll feed you on one condition.”
August hacked at the back of his throat. “You’ll feed me or I’ll die,” he said.
“Okay, amateur dramatics, want me to send you to live with Jack at his university halls?”
He hissed and pawed at his bowl again. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me,” I said. “So, today, no more catnip, and if someone comes to the door, I don’t want you getting all agitated, I want you to stay focused and make sure Laurie doesn’t come while I’m out, we’re the closest house to her, I mean, unless you count the doctor’s house.”
August agreed. I poured him food from the pouch and filled his water bowl. I had a taxing day ahead so I made extra pancakes and drizzled them with honey to line my stomach.
I was ready for work at 8:15 A.M. dressed in a brown and yellow floral print A-line dress. Dabbing a maroon powder eyeshadow in the upper crease of my eyelid, I noticed my pentagram necklace, it was a reminder of five witches, five elements, a coven, and now we were incomplete. I finished my face with a deep red lip before finally looking away from myself.
Today, I’d have to smuggle Marissa’s book into the café with me, it was barely smuggling as I would usually have my book in hand anyway, I’m sure people wouldn’t notice anyway, but if Detective Hodge found me with her book, I was wide open for investigation, or worse, having the café visited by the
police department to catalogue everything in my backroom.
Knowing this, I arrived to work thirty minutes earlier.
Other than the occasional teenager on their way to school, the village was deserted of humans but the seagull population had increased threefold at the front of the café.
“I told them not to feed the bloomin’ things.” I’d usually arrive at work fifteen minutes late, and often that mean Ralph and Abi would take it upon themselves to clean out stale cakes, and with that, they were single-handedly feeding the squawking seagulls.
There was more to today than I was letting myself in on, it was the first day of the full moon and the protection I felt around me was already depleting. I stroked the pentagram necklace before hiding it away behind the dress.
Shooing away the seagulls with both books on my arms and my handbag on my shoulder, I let myself into the café, rushing through to the backroom. I set my book on the pedestal and Marissa’s book beneath it.
“We’ll find out,” I said, stroking the cover. “I promise.”
I held the necklace between my forefinger and thumb, fiddling with it for a moment as a form of relaxing therapy.
I pulled out the large bloodstone geode and took my regular seat on the floor, it was more imperative now than ever that I used it to help empower myself. I sat with the rock between my legs and straightened out my back.
“You got this,” I told myself, wiggling on the pillow.
The energy was powerful, some witches sourced their power from the earth and the items around them like crystals, it was the best way, they were packed full of energy, and just when I needed it the most, I knew it would provide. There were darker means of seeking power, and that included killing. I could feel my stomach suck itself in at the thought, somebody might’ve killed Marissa for her power, but there were no new witches around in the area, least of all none who drew power from the dark.
“Hello?” I heard Ralph called as the ding rang out from the café door. “Hello?” he called once more.
I dusted myself off and rushed out to greet him. “Hey,” I said. “Figured I’d get an early start on the day.”
He smiled at me. “It’s good to keep yourself busy too, I remember a couple of years back when my mother died, I threw myself into volunteering at the church,” he said.
“Hopefully they’ll know what happened soon so we can put her to rest,” I said.
We hadn’t spoke about it yet, but she’d need a witch’s burial, and before anything like that could happen we needed to know who killed her, knowing our luck it would’ve been stress related, but there was too much suspicion and unanswered questions around it. Like, who needed the pages from her book and why had they gone through all the effort of cleaning out her supply room? Or why had Laurie not been found yet?
“Fingers crossed,” he said. “I’ll clean out the old cakes.”
I hummed. “I thought I told you about not feeding the seagulls, I thought they were looking a bit plump the other day.”
He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand. “You did, but it’s better than having it go to waste, besides, I thought you’d be happy to support the local nature.”
“If it was bird feed, maybe, but cake probably isn’t good for them.” It probably wasn’t that great for people either, but it was addictive, and also the reason seagulls still flocked outside the doors instead of waiting by the local fish and chip shop down the road.
The door swung open and in rushed Abi, catching her breath. “Morning,” she said, gasping as she keeled over to collect her breath.
“What’s got to you?” I asked, approaching her to stroked her back.
“I thought I was late, I saw your car and I—”
A smile touched my lips. “Oh, no, I figured I’d get a break on the day,” I said. “We still have another five minutes before opening.”
Abi helped me pull the chairs from the tables and straighten out the condiment baskets. I had fresh cakes ready from yesterday inside the industrial fridge in the baking room. They were all ready to go on display, replacing the cakes that were about to expire or were on the edge that tipped the scale and wasn’t worth risking my number five on the health and safety rank.
“Is Rosie coming in today?” Abi asked, with her head stuck in the fridge carefully pulling out a cake on a white cardboard sheet.
“I don’t know, she comes and goes now she’s working fulltime with the doctor,” I chuckled, because that was exactly like Rosie, most of the time I’d have to ask her if she was busy and wanted to pick up a shift. “Luckily, we stuck our heads together and baked quite a bit yesterday.”
Abi laughed. “Otherwise we’d have an uproar.”
Once it hit 9 A.M. and Abi turned the white placard at the door from closed to open, Margery and Ethel stepped inside, wearing large plastic yellow anoraks.
“Raining out?” I called to them from behind the counter.
“Not yet,” Ethel shouted back. “But the man in the TV said it was coming in any hour now and I don’t want to be caught with a chest infection, the last thing I need is to see that doctor again.”
“Oo, oo, oo,” Margery gestured, pounding her walking stick on the ground as she nodded. “The man wants to see us suffer, I tell you he won’t see me getting sick.”
Part of that was down to me, even though it was against the witch’s code and unethical to give someone help when they didn’t ask for it. On occasion, I would supplement them with a nice tea to help metabolise their sugar and keep cholesterol in check.
“He seems nice to me,” I said.
Ethel waved her hand as she peeled herself from her jacket. She took a seat, wiggling herself in place on the chair. “We’ll start with two coffees,” she said, holding up two fingers.
Abi popped her head up from the counter. “Coming right up,” she said.
“You’ve got those,” I said to Abi. “I’m going to head back and finish off filling some cakes.” I rested my hand on her shoulder and looked her in her eyes. “If it gets busy, come back and grab me.”
“Will do,” she said with a smile, creasing up the bridge of her nose and eyes.
Ralph was already busy prepared for the morning, cutting bread and making sure the cutlery was wrapped in napkins.
I closed the door behind me and rested against it for a moment while I looked around the large bakery. My home away from home, my happy place, nobody and nothing could get to me here.
A knock startled me.
CHAPTER 9
I jumped across the kitchen almost. Detective Hodge’s face appeared in the circular window. He tapped the glance while I busied myself, tying the apron around my waist and fiddling with a plastic hairnet.
“Come in,” I said.
“Gwen,” he said, nodding his head. He already had his pen and notepad in hand.
“Derick,” I greeted back. It felt more like a game, he’d refer to me by my first name and I’d completely avoid calling him detective. “How can I help you?” I strained a smile on my face. “I mean, you’re in my kitchen.”
“I’m aware,” he said. “I tried to visit you this morning, but you obviously weren’t home.”
I threw a hairnet at him. “Please can you put this on?”
He blinked several times, looking at the seriousness on my face. Cleanliness was everything, and I wasn’t going to have that tarnished by a man who was balding. “I need to ask you a few follow-up questions,” he said, sucking his head back into the cap.
I nodded, although the notepad was a dead giveaway, I wished for a moment he was bringing me news. “Of course, anything I can help you with?”
“You live close to Marissa’s house,” he said. “You wouldn’t have happened to stop by last night or this morning would you?”
I shook my head. My lips dropped to a thin line. “To be quite honest with you, I don’t think I could stomach visiting her place, I couldn’t think of anything worse to do right now.”
He nodded, jo
tting it down incessantly into his tiny notebook. “Okay, I saw you had a bicycle out on the garden earlier,” he said. “I didn’t know your son was back.”
My jaw clenched, how could I have been so careless to leave it lying around. “He’s not,” I said. “I was in the garage this morning, I couldn’t sleep, I was just having a look around, and I probably pulled it out looking at things.”
“Okay.” He began walking around the kitchen. “Well, someone was at Marissa’s house this morning, or last night, and they seem to have tampered with the crime scene.”
I gulped hard, leaving an audible knot in my throat. “Bless the Goddess, I hope they’re not stealing from a dead woman.”
He continued walking around with his nose in the air. “It would be a shame if that was the case.”
“I’d hate to think anyone in the village was capable of murder, let alone having the morals to think stealing from—” I sniffled. “From a dead woman.” Perhaps I should’ve been in the amateur dramatics, not August, although he got that from me.
“Well, if you hear anything from anyone, please let me know.” He closed his notebook and slipped the pen inside the rings.
“I’ll keep my ear to the ground.”
“But, if you do hear something and keep it from the police it will not look favourably on you.”
“What type of information would you like me to tell you about?
“Anything, if it doesn’t seem relevant, then, that might be, but any information could bust this case wide open.” He approached me by the door, scratching at his hair beneath the net.
“You don’t have any leads?”
He pulled the hairnet away. “No, yes, no—I mean, well, we’re following up on a few things.”
“Well, I’ll definitely let you know.” My heart raced wildly, for once, something truthful came from his mouth.
“You still have my number?” he asked.
I nodded. “And I know where you work,” I said. “If I know anything, I’ll let you know.”
“And the same goes for your friends, this isn’t your time to play detective,” he said. “Or hocus pocus the situation, we have no time for distractions.”
Muffins, Magic, and Murder Page 5