It Takes a Witch: A Wishcraft Mystery (10 page)

Nick said, “None at all. And it’s been nice visiting with Mrs. Pennywhistle, too. Do you two know each other?”

Nodding, I said, “Are you feeling well, Mrs. P?” Sure enough, she wore the same tracksuit as last night, and her usually sky-high teased hair was flat on one side. Day-old eyeliner smudged the wrinkles under her eyes, and mascara flaked on her cheeks, looking like dark freckles, and one of her painted eyebrows had worn off. My guess was that she hadn’t slept a wink last night.

“Just a tad under the weather, dearie.” Sadness filled her normally vibrant blue eyes as she looked at Lotions and Potions.

Though it was fairly obvious the murder was the source of her grief, I didn’t want to press my luck to ask about Alex.

“Are you sad about Miss Alexandra?” Mimi asked.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Nick wince at his daughter’s frankness. If she had been in foot range, she may have gotten a tiny warning kick from him not to be so nosy.

Me? I was glad she had asked—because I had wanted to know, too.

Mimi added, “I’m sad, too. She was my friend.”

Nick’s forehead dipped a little bit at that. Had he not known?

“I cannot say we were friends, little one, for I hardly knew her,” Mrs. P answered, “but I am quite sad about what happened to Alexandra. No one deserves such a fate.”

Who was Alexandra Shively? On one hand, it seemed most of the Crafters thought she was a nuisance and Sylar openly disliked her, yet both Evan and Mimi considered her a friend.

As
I
considered both Evan and Mimi friends, I trusted their judgment. So what was I missing about Alex? Did she have a split personality? Because what I’d seen of her last night hadn’t left a good impression on me.

Complex
, as Velma had described her. It was turning out to be a fitting term.

“Did you know her well?” I asked Mimi.

“Sure! She always let me hang around her shop and gave me lots of samples of her lotions and sprays.”

I thought about Griffin Huntley’s hair and Evan’s face and hoped Mimi had none of those lotions. A quick look at Nick, and I could tell he was thinking along the same lines. His eyes had darkened and his whole body tensed.

“That was nice of her,” I said. Missy barked as if in agreement.

Mimi nodded. “She was always talking about how she was a witch, and once she even wore a pink pointy hat around the store as a joke, and she had loads and loads of books about potions and witchcraft and stuff.” Her voice trailed off as she looked toward Alex’s store. “What’s going to happen to all her stuff, Dad?”

“I’m not sure.” Nick bent to pat Missy. She had nuzzled up against his leg. “Once the police are done going through it, the rest will probably go to her next of kin—her relatives.”

Mimi’s nose wrinkled. “But she doesn’t have any family.
It was just her.” As if telling a story she’d heard repeatedly, she continued. “Her dad died when she was just a baby, and then her mom died when Miss Alexandra was my age—just like me. She didn’t have brothers or sisters, and she didn’t have any other family. She lived at an orphanage, and all the stuff she owned fit into one little suitcase.” Her brown eyes had grown wide with the telling of the tale.

I suddenly recalled what Harper had said earlier, about some bits of gossip proving true. I wondered what, if any, information was accurate in the rundown Mimi had given.

Nick seemed shocked that Mimi knew so much about Alex, and Mrs. P had her eyes closed. I wasn’t sure whether she was dozing or praying or making silent wishes that we’d all go away and leave her in peace.

It was strange and unsettling seeing her so quiet. Usually she was a chatterbox, an elderly firecracker.

Missy was oblivious to the tension in the air. She was too busy snuggling with Nick.

The lucky dog.

No, no, no!
I had to stop thinking like that.

I’d sworn off men. If only I could remember that when he was around. It continually slipped my mind when he was nearby—a bad habit I was going to have to break.

“So where does her stuff go?” Mimi asked Nick again.

Mrs. P’s eyes popped open—too alert to have been asleep. Praying or wishing? Hard to tell.

He said tightly, “I don’t know.”

“Do you think the police would let me have her pink pointy hat? I really liked that hat, and Miss Alexandra always said it looked good on me.”

“I don’t know.…I can ask, I suppose.” Nick gave me a pleading look, and I realized he wanted me to change the subject.

Mrs. P’s hands were in motion again. I checked to see
what she was holding and was a bit surprised that her fingers clutched a tiny green leaf. “Is that a four-leaf clover?”

“We’ve been hunting for them while we waited for you to come home,” Mimi said brightly. “I have one, too. See?” She held it out to me, and I gave it a good inspection.

“It’s perfect. How lucky you found it. And you?” I asked Nick. “Did you find one?”

“Not so lucky.” He stood and stretched. Now that the subject had been changed away from Alexandra, I noticed a shift in him as well. His body had relaxed, but his eyes were in constant motion, sweeping across the village green. Looking. Searching. He was working, I suddenly realized. Working to find the pickpocket.

I wished he’d work a foot farther away from me. He stood a little too close for my liking. I could feel his body heat. As if he sensed that he was making me uncomfortable, he looked my way. Moved just a hair closer.

I had the feeling he liked making me uncomfortable. I took a tiny step away from him under the pretense of shifting my weight.

“We’re still looking, though, aren’t we, Missy?” Mimi said as she rubbed the dog’s head.

“Did you make wishes?” I asked, holding my breath as I waited for the answers.

“Yes! Mine was for—” Mimi cut herself off abruptly. “I don’t want to say. I want it to come true, and doesn’t saying it out loud jinx it?”

“Not always,” I said softly.

Mrs. P looked up at me and winked.

I blinked. What did that wink mean? Was she a Crafter? Did she know I was a Wishcrafter?

I certainly couldn’t ask
her
. But I could ask Ve. Maybe she’d give me a list of who’s who in this village. It would make my life a little easier.

Mimi finger-combed through a patch of clover. “Well, I don’t want to chance it, but Mrs. P wished she had enough money to do something nice for her granddaughter.”

Since Mrs. Pennywhistle hadn’t made the wish aloud to me, I had no obligation to fulfill it.

Mrs. P rose from the bench. “Just wishful musings of an poor old woman.”

I frowned. I thought the Pixie Cottage was doing well. It always seemed to have a
NO VACANCY
sign hanging out front.

“I’ll be going now, dearies.” She patted my cheek. “Give Ve my best, now, won’t you? And Sylar, too. I’m not sure what that idiot prosecutor is thinking.” She pressed her eyes closed and more mascara flakes fluttered to her cheeks. “I’m not sure what this village is coming to.”

She waved and speed-walked off, leaving me standing oh-so-close to Nick, while Mimi sat at our feet, searching through clover. Missy had settled down after her long adventure, but still kept a watchful eye on Mimi.

“Darcy! You found her!” Starla headed toward us. Suddenly she stopped, raised her lens, and snapped my and Nick’s picture. I hadn’t even had time to put my hand in front of my face.

She was grinning as she handed me a claim ticket. “It should be ready in an hour.” Bending, she patted Missy on her curly-topped head, and spoke in baby talk to the dog. “I’m so glad you’re safe and sound. Yes, I am. Yes, I am.”

Nick smiled at me, and I felt a flutter of warmth in my chest.

I chose to think of igloos and Eskimos and frozen tundra to counteract it.

“Okay, gotta run,” Starla said. “It’s the busiest day of the season so far.”

I thought about what she said earlier.

I hate to say it, but murder is good for business. The village is hopping.

If that was true, how far would someone with a failing business go to drum up customers?

I looked at the pink blur in the distance. How badly was the Pixie Cottage doing? What
had
upset Mrs. P the night before?

It was yet another thing to look into, to test my nonexistent sleuthing skills.

Starla hurried off, her camera lens at the ready. Leaving me alone with Mimi and Nick.

I checked my watch. It was getting late. “I should be going. I have to work tonight.”

Mimi said, “Another fairy job?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.”

Her eyes lit. “Will you show me your wings one of these days?”

“Absolutely.”

“Wings?” Nick asked.

There was a spark in his eye that went beyond simple curiosity, a light that made me feel that damn warmth again.

“Gossamer, about this big,” I said, stretching my arms.

He smiled.

I scooped up Missy and started for As You Wish. “Thanks again for bringing her home. I’ll, uh, see you around.”

“Wait!” Mimi cried.

I turned. Mimi held up a four-leaf clover. “I found one!” She brought it over to me. “Here. It’s for you, Darcy.”

“For me?” I gently took it. “Thank you.”

Mimi said, “Now you have to make a wish.”

I looked between her and Nick, down at Missy, and back to Nick again, who was staring at me intently. I closed my eyes and wished.

“Well?” Mimi asked. “What did you wish for?”

I smiled. “I can’t say. Or it might not come true, right?”

I waved and headed off toward As You Wish, already putting my wish out of my mind. My thoughts had already turned to tonight. I hoped all would go well at the Goodwins’, and that there wouldn’t be any surprises.

And I tried really hard not to think about the photo Starla had taken.

And how it was going to be overexposed.

I
vowed never to wear tulle again. There had to be a suitable substitution. If I was going to keep up the fairy work, I needed to make an appointment at the Bewitching Boutique to have some sort of an original design created—a sign in the window touted the shop as a custom clothier.

Moonlight cast my winged shadow across the Goodwins’ front door as I knocked softly. Cherise opened the door with gusto, and ushered me inside. Color was high on her cheeks as she led me into the kitchen. “We’re glad you’re here.”

Amanda stood on one side of the granite island with her arms crossed, and Dennis stood on the other, in the exact same pose. Their backs were to each other.

With more enthusiasm than a whole cheerleading squad, Cherise’s voice rose, and she clapped her hands. “I said, we’re so glad you’re here, Darcy! Aren’t we glad?”

Neither Amanda nor Dennis said a word. In fact, neither looked at me at all. Tear tracks stained Amanda’s cheeks.

I frowned at Dennis, suddenly wishing I could turn him into a toad or something. He was medium height, average-sized, not handsome—but not unfortunate looking, either. He wore a tight, fancy T-shirt tucked into belted
black trousers and dark loafers. He looked like the type to cart around a big ego that probably had more to do with his successful medical practice than any kind of winning personality. Frankly, I wondered what Amanda saw in him.

“I don’t know what I ever saw in you,” Amanda said.

My jaw dropped. Could she read my mind? I contemplated whether Amanda was a type of Crafter I hadn’t heard of yet, one who could read people’s thoughts. Which was much too scary to contemplate, so I turned my attention to the kitchen’s flowered wallpaper and wished I were somewhere else. Anywhere else.

“Now, now,” Cherise said with a skittish laugh. “Darcy came all this way—”

“Dollar signs,” Dennis answered dully.

Amanda spun on him, and sputtered, “Oh! Oh! How
dare
you! You’re just such a—”

“Now, now!” Cherise slammed her hand on the countertop. “I
said
, Darcy came all this way.”

Her voice hadn’t risen, but the tone had changed drastically. It was enough to make me glad she wasn’t my mother.

Both snapped their mouths closed and looked at me, as if only just realizing I was standing there. “Hello.” I finger-waved and watched glitter fall to the floor.

Color flooded Amanda’s cheeks. “Hello.”

Dennis nodded.

“Now, then,” Cherise said, “let’s remember tonight is about Laurel Grace. Not about petty squabbles.”

Amanda opened her mouth, but Cherise wagged her finger. “Nuh-uh. Not a word.”

At this point I just wanted to dissolve into the woodwork—or, better yet, make a run for the door. But my work ethic held strong, and I decided I’d better get this done and over with so I could go home. Consoling an inconsolable Ve was much better than being in the crosshairs of a marital spat.

My heart twisted at the thought of my aunt. Sylar’s lawyer, Marcus, had dropped her off at the house just before I headed out. They’d already been to the Cauldron, and Aunt Ve had had one too many gin and tonics to be coherent. But Marcus had explained everything, and it all boiled down to Sylar being denied bail.

Harper and I had managed to get a sobbing Ve into bed, where she promptly passed out.

It was probably best that way for her. I’d left Harper at Ve’s bedside. She was reading a forensics manual to pass the time while she kept an eye on snoring Ve. Now, more than ever, Harper wanted to clear Sylar’s name.

Heaven help us all.

“Shall we?” Cherise asked me.

Grateful, I nodded. In a repeat of the night before, I carefully climbed the wooden steps. Only this time, three people looked on. Two of whom wanted to kill each other.

I opened Laurel Grace’s door and crept inside. Tiptoeing to the bed, I thought carefully about what I was going to say.

As I bent over her, Laurel Grace suddenly popped up. Our foreheads slammed together, and pain radiated down the back of my head, down my jaw. Stars swam in my eyes, and my vision narrowed. I glanced quickly at Cherise; then everything went dark.

I woke to a small voice asking, “Did she die, Mommy?”

“No, no.” That was Amanda. She didn’t sound convinced.