Sweet murder hexes sweet.., p.6

  Sweet Murder Hexes (Sweetland Witch Women Sleuths) (A Cozy Mystery Book), p.6

Sweet Murder Hexes (Sweetland Witch Women Sleuths) (A Cozy Mystery Book)
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  * * *

  1 1

  * * *

  I knew Colt wouldn't approve. That's why I waited until he was gone. After spilling everything to him about Melbourne and the Cult of V, I thought it only made sense to take a closer look at his father's death. If Rachel and Russell really had been killed by the same person—who was undoubtedly Vlaski—it only made sense to take a closer look at both crimes. Maybe there was something that had been overlooked.

  Russell Hudson's death had been over ten years ago. Maybe there was new testing that could be done. Something that would help to give us the proof we needed. Right now, even though we knew it had to be Vlaski Ambrose who had killed both Rachel and Russell, there was just no way to prove it. The only thing that might help was if I could convince Melbourne to talk to COMHA and tell them that Vlaski was behind all this, but he didn't even want Trixie knowing he was alive.

  I'd sent Lucy a text the night before telling her to forget about going to Melbourne's to look for that book. Colt had been too upset and when I'd finally left him to go home, I was exhausted.

  I rang the bell at Colt's apartment and waited for his mother to come to the door. I'd begged Colt to talk to her. Not necessarily tell her everything that was going, just ask her about his father's death. Colt had only been twelve when it happened. As smart as he was, twelve-year-olds had a tendency to miss details that adults didn't. It was entirely possible that Terri Hudson knew more than Colt realized.

  I thought I caught a shadow just to my left as I stood on the doorstep. I turned for a closer look but it darted behind a building. Or maybe it was just my eyes playing tricks on me.

  I glanced down at my phone as I pushed the bell a second time. Colt had gone down to headquarters for the day with Dean Lampton. That meant he was on the mainland—Florida—and wouldn't be back until nightfall. I hoped his mom could keep this conversation between us. If she ever answered the door.

  "Maybe she's not home," I muttered to myself, turning to go. Just then the door swung open. It revealed a pretty but not overly made up woman in her mid-forties with bright blue eyes that reminded me of Damon's. I pushed his image away. I hadn't heard from him for almost three months now. Not even a text. Not that I'd sent him any. He'd made it very clear he was through with me. With us.

  "Hello," the woman said.

  Her voice was soft and smooth. It reminded me of an elementary school teacher—the nice ones. The kind of school teacher who offered pieces of candy as reward for good behavior and let you wear fuzzy slippers in the classroom, not the ones who made you sit in the corner and write your name fifty times just because you called Mark Quincy a pill bug.

  "Terri Hudson?" I asked uncertainly. It occurred to me that I'd never seen a picture of her before. I'd only been to Colt's apartment once or twice. We usually met at Coffee Cove or Mystic Cupcake.

  "Yes?"

  The tension in my shoulders began to make my head hurt. "Um, we haven't been formally introduced yet. I'm Ava Fortune. I'm—"

  "You're Colt's girlfriend!" Her eyes widened to saucers, and her whole face lit up. She practically jumped out the door and swept me up in a giant bear hug. She was a good hugger. It made me smile and giggle all at once.

  When she let me go, her face was beaming. "Come in, come in, I'm so glad you found a way to make some time. I told Colt how anxious I was to meet you, but he told me how busy you are."

  "He did? You are?" I bit my bottom lip. The way this woman was talking, it almost seemed like Colt was making excuses to keep me away from her. Had he really told her I was too busy to meet her?

  "I understand. Believe me. I'm not offended. What with the bakery and your extracts and all, you must be swamped with work. I offered to go down to your shop, The Mystic Cupcake, but Colt didn't think that was such a good idea. He said it would distract you."

  I offered her a smile and hoped my face didn't betray the fact that I had no idea what she was talking about. Colt had never mentioned her wanting to meet me. Ever.

  "Um, well, I decided meeting you was more important."

  Her smile spread across her face. She started to go in for another hug, thought better of it, and offered me tea instead. When that was made, she put out some cookies and we sat across from each other in the living room, nibbling and talking.

  "Don't sit so far," she chided, patting the seat beside her. "Come here, I want to show you something." She grabbed a photo album, and I moved beside her. I had no idea how I was going to question her about anything. She was much too giddy for questions about death and murder.

  She opened the photo album and started sifting through it. "Here's Colt when he was two. Isn't he adorable?" It was a picture of Colt sitting on the toilet, potty training.

  "And here he is at three and a half. See how his hair is so short? I had to cut it myself because he got gum caught in it." In this photograph, a pouty-looking Colt sat with not just short hair, but a completely shaved head. It looked as smooth as a bowling ball. He looked miserable.

  I thought I was beginning to understand why he didn't want me meeting his mom.

  "Now, if you two kids get married—and I'm not saying you will—but you are the first girlfriend of his, no, the second, that I've ever met, which tells me something. And don't worry, the first was in high school That barely even counts. So, if you two kids get married one day, your kids will probably have this hooked nose that Colt has in these pictures. See?"

  She pointed out several pictures where Colt's nose hooked down at the end.

  "Don't worry," she said. "It grows out." I smiled and nodded politely. "How many kids do you think you might want, Ava? I'm sure Colt would never admit it but he wants at least a dozen."

  "A dozen?" My eyes popped out their sockets. Just a little.

  "Oh, yes, a big family would be wonderful. He never had one growing up, and I so wanted to give it to him. But with his father passing away..." Her voice trailed off. Now was the chance I needed to steer the conversation toward Russell. Maybe I could question her without her even realizing it if I was careful.

  "Colt told me about his dad. I'm sorry." I patted her hand.

  She smiled at me and turned the page.

  "This is him here. Russell, I mean. He was always such a good father. Well, almost always. Everyone makes mistakes."

  "Of course, they do. I'm sure Russell loved you both very much."

  "Thank you for saying that. I know he did." She frowned slightly, and I pointed to another picture of Colt with his saxophone.

  "Colt told me he used to play but gave it up."

  "Yes." Her bubbliness began to deflate like a balloon. "The day Russell died, he and Colt had a big fight over it."

  "He may have mentioned that."

  She looked surprised. "Did he?"

  "Yes." I suddenly wondered where the saxophone I'd given Colt was. I scanned his living room and found it standing in a corner near the window. There was dust on it.

  "Don't be offended," Terri said, following my gaze. "Colt showed me the saxophone you bought him. He adores it. He just doesn't play it."

  I frowned. "I guess it must remind him too much of that day. When his father died."

  "I'm afraid so."

  "How exactly was it that he died? I mean, Colt told me it was a vampire attack, but I've never heard much beyond that."

  "Oh, I don't like to talk about that very much. Neither does Colt."

  "I understand. I just thought it would be nice to have more details. That way, if one of our kids ever asks, I'll be able to tell them." I knew it was wrong of me to play the grandkid card when Colt and I hadn't even had an official second date yet, but I had to get this conversation moving somehow.

  "Well..." Terri was thinking, "it was like any other day, really. Except for the fight Colt and Russell had that morning. It still seems funny to me. Russ had never cared about Colt's playing the saxophone before. Suddenly, he was crazed over it. Demanded Colt stop wasting his time."

  "That must have been hard for Colt to hear."

  "It was. I'm sure Russ would have apologized later. He just never got the chance."

  "Colt said Dean Lampton came by himself to tell you about Russell's death."

  "Yes, that's right. It had been two days, and I was getting worried. Russell had been gone overnight before, though, so I just chalked it up to that. He did a lot of top secret work and couldn't always tell me what was going on. Dean knocked on our door and... told me he was gone. For good."

  "You mean, you didn't find out he was dead until two days after it happened?" This was the first I'd heard of this.

  "Yes." Tears were forming in the back of Terri's eyes now. "I think I'm done talking about this." She smiled and rose from her seat. "More tea?"

  "Sure. Do you know why Dean waited so long to tell you? I mean, if he knew Russell was dead—"

  "They weren't sure at first. Not until they found his body. Now, please, I can't talk about this anymore."

  Tears began dripping down her cheeks.

  "I'm sorry. I just feel like I'm missing something. Why did it take them so long to find his body? Didn't they know where he was?"

  Terri's voice was thick with her tears now. "Y-yes but it was in p-p-pieces. They wanted to f-find all of them f-first."

  "Pieces?" My imagination ran wild. Pieces of Russell Hudson formed in my mind. His head. His hands. His toes. "Colt told me he was drained of blood. If he was found in pieces, though, I'm not sure that makes sense."

  Terri fell apart. She sank into a chair and buried her head in her hands. I felt guilty for forcing the information out of her. "I'm sorry. I know it must be hard to talk about. My mother died when I was just a baby. I just have one more question."

  "No!" Terri screamed, rising from her chair. "No more questions. You need to go." Warthogs. She was mad.

  "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

  "I told you I didn't want to talk about this! Just get out now! Please!" Even when she was mad, she was still polite.

  "I don't suppose we could keep this conversation between us?" I asked hopefully.

  "OUT!" Polite Terri was gone. Angry Terri had taken her place. I decided I'd better go before I saw an even worse side that I didn't want to see.

  She opened the door, and I stepped out. The sun hit my eyes, sending white splotches of light across my field of vision. I looked around for the shadow I'd seen earlier, saw nothing, and hurried down the stairs. If Terri was this mad, how mad was Colt going to be when he found out what I'd just done?

  * * *

  1 2

  * * *

  P.A. systems, microphones, and loudspeakers weren't common everyday usage in Sweetland Cove, so when I heard Mayor Quinn Thomas talking through a microphone, it caught my attention. It was hard not to. His voice was loud without a microphone. With one, he became almost impossible to ignore. I stopped and just listened for a minute. He was giving a speech.

  Snippets of things like "bravery" and "united" made their way through the air.

  I veered toward the direction the sound was coming from. It was hard to miss. Hundreds of people were veering down the same path I was. Hundreds more had already set up camp around the town square, where Mayor Thomas was situated. An impromptu stage had been set up sometime late this morning. It hadn't been here when I'd passed by on my way to Colt's, so it must have been put up within the last two hours.

  There was a long banner that ran the length of the stage, undoubtedly strung up using magic, just as the stage had been. The banner read: MAYOR FOR ALL.

  Mayor Quinn Thomas stood in the middle of the stage, flanked on either side by a man and woman I didn't recognize. He was holding an actual microphone, probably because this was such an open spot to tourists he didn't want to risk increasing the volume of his voice with a spell. The setup of the stage could have been hidden, made to look non-magical. But making your voice sound like a bullhorn without actually holding a bullhorn might draw a few raised eyebrows.

  The mayor had the attention of everyone in the crowd. "I want to assure Mr. and Mrs. Sessler that Rachel's death will not be in vain. Her killer will be brought to justice."

  There was a round of applause. Mayor Thomas shook the Sesslers' hands and they each took a seat behind him on the stage.

  "There is no justice without justice."

  I cocked my head to the side and wondered if I was the only one that thought that didn't quite make sense.

  "Heavenly Haven is our home. Not just Sweetland Cove. We want it to be safe."

  Another round of applause.

  "We share this island with another town. A town not everyone here cares much for." There were a few boos. "Mistmoor Point is a part of Heavenly Haven just like Beggars Forest or Whisper Crossing. It is not fair to call one place home while shunning the other."

  There was scattered applause this time.

  “Ava!"

  I turned to see Trixie and Eleanor coming toward me with Sheriff Knoxx. He was frowning.

  "Hi," I said, glad to see them. "Do you know what's going on here? Why is the mayor making a speech?"

  "Some big secret," Trixie said.

  "Do you think this is what Rachel Sessler was talking about when she said the mayor was going to unveil a surprise?"

  Eleanor nodded. "I'd bet on it."

  "Where's my dad?"

  "Watching the bakery," Eleanor said. "He's not the mayor's biggest fan. Thinks he's too ego driven, but I wanted to see what was going on."

  Sheriff Knoxx was surveying the crowd, his arms folded across his chest. Eleanor looked over at him.

  "Zane, relax. It's just a speech."

  "It's not just that," he said. "But now that you mention it, I would appreciate a little advance notice from the mayor's office about assemblies being held in the town square. That way, I could have my men out here keeping control of the situation."

  Otis Winken and Elwin Muster came walking up just then. "Hello, Sheriff," Otis said.

  "Otis, Elwin, I told you to split up and patrol the area."

  "Yes, sir," Otis said, "but I thought you should know that Elwin and I have been talking, and we're pretty sure that neither one of us took that book you asked about." My ears perked up. I'd forgotten all about the book I'd taken from the evidence room, Forgotten Spells and Lineages.

  Had I gotten Otis and Elwin in trouble?

  "Um, Sheriff Knoxx?" I said before my throat ran completely dry. He looked at me, waiting. They were all looking at me. "Never mind."

  Sheriff Knoxx grunted and turned back to Otis. "Fine, Otis. That's fine. Why don't you ask Tadpole when you see him?"

  "Oh, Tadpole wouldn't take nothing that didn't belong to him. Would you, Tadpole?"

  Tadpole poked his head out of Otis's pocket, wrinkled his nose, and slipped back inside.

  Sheriff Knoxx sighed.

  "Otis, that book can be dangerous. Forgotten Spells and Lineages has dark magic in it. Do you both understand that? We need to find it."

  Otis and Elwin nodded while my insides tumbled. "Maybe it's sitting on a desk somewhere," I suggested. "You never know."

  "We checked the desks." Sheriff Knoxx was getting more irritated by the minute.

  "Yes, but maybe it's under a pile of papers. Or in the bathroom. Or... or..."

  I was saved by a round of gasps from the crowd around us. We turned back toward the stage. Mayor Thomas was in full bloom. He pounded his fists on a podium and rolled his shoulders back as he shouted at the crowd.

  "I will not let Heavenly Haven fall to pieces because Mistmoor is unable to select a new mayor. Mayor Singer would not have wanted that! Rachel Sessler would not have wanted that! I do not want that!"

  There was a ripping round of applause from all around us. Eleanor and Trixie exchanged a worried look.

  "That is why I am happy to announce that one of my most valued staff members—Rachel Sessler, who is missed by my administration every day and whose guidance and input was invaluable to me—solved the problem at hand before her death. Rachel found an old law in Heavenly Haven's constitution."

  "What law is he talking about?" I asked my aunts.

  "I have no idea," Eleanor said

  "I have a bad feeling about this," Sheriff Knoxx said.

  Mayor Thomas gave the audience a second of silent suspense before continuing. "It is called the "Mayor-for-All Rule, and I shall read directly from it now."

  He cleared his throat. "If either Mistmoor Point or Sweetland Cove is without a mayor for ninety days, the mayor who is employed in either place at the time of the ninetieth day may preside over both towns."

  He waited for that to sink in. The people in the crowd looked at each other, confused. I heard a lot of questions flittering through the air.

  "What does that mean?" someone shouted.

  "How long has Mistmoor been without a mayor?" asked someone else.

  "Huh?" asked several people.

  The murmur of confusion ran in a wave from one end of the crowd through the other.

  "In other words," Mayor Thomas said now, a smile beaming across his face, "Mistmoor Point has two weeks to decide on a new mayor. If they fail to do so, then I will be invoking the Mayor-for-All Rule."

  I looked at Sheriff Knoxx and my aunts. Their faces mirrored my own shock. "Did Mayor Thomas just say what I think he did?" I asked them. "Is he trying to take over Mistmoor Point?"

  "That's exactly what he said," Sheriff Knoxx replied, his lips pressed tightly together. "And if I know Mistmoor, there's no way they'll let that happen."

  * * *

  1 3

  * * *

  Colt was back. He'd texted me when he'd gotten home last night. Either his mom hadn't said anything to him about our little meeting, or he'd been too tired to argue with me about it. Either way, it didn't mean things wouldn't change. For all I knew, his mom was talking to him about me right now. Whatever she said, I probably deserved it.

  Dean Lampton hadn't given Colt any new information at headquarters. Rachel Sessler's killer and Russell's were one and the same. That was all they had to go on right now. I thought Dean knew more than he was letting on. Call it witch's intuition, but I wanted to talk to Colt about it when I had the chance. Provided that we were still on speaking terms, of course.

 
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