Witching for the Best: A Paranormal Cozy Mystery (Moonlight Cove Mystery Book 2) Read online

  Elisa took my arm and walked outside with me. My moon, this was going to be hard.

  As soon as the door was shut, she turned to me. “What’s going on?”

  “Listen,” I began quietly, pausing for a second before continuing. “What I’m about to tell you might be hard to hear, Elisa. First let me just say that I am so, so sorry.”

  Elisa bit her lip. “Oh no. Artemis, what happened? Just tell me, straight up.”

  I sighed, taking her hands in mine. I could see the tears already prickling in her eyes. After all, she was a witch. She had witch’s instinct, just the same as I did. I was sure she could almost predict what I was going to say, or at least the gist of it.

  “This morning, the police found a body in the water. It was, well, it was Susanna,” I said.

  Elisa’s eyes went wide and then her chin began to tremble. “Su-- My aunt Susanna?”

  I nodded. “Yes. I’m so sorry, El. I wish it wasn’t her. I know you two were close.”

  She burst into tears and collapsed into my arms, her whole body shaking. I wrapped my arms around her and patted her back, feeling the tears burning in my own eyes, too. I hated to see her like this. Elisa was a tough, independent young woman who put up with a lot of stuff. She could handle anything. So to see her fall apart was especially awful.

  “How did it happen?” she asked tearfully. “How did she end up in the water? Do they think she drowned? She was always such a good swimmer. How could this be?”

  I didn’t have the heart to tell her flat-out that it was probably not an accident. She would come to that conclusion on her own just fine once the initial shock and denial wore off.

  “I don’t have the answers, El,” I told her honestly. “I just found out this morning. Chief Forsetti was going to tell you, but I thought you’d rather hear it from a friend.”

  “Thank you,” she said, sobbing. “Thank you for telling me. Oh god, my Aunt Su. She was such a wonderful lady, Artemis. She’s the one who believed in me, who showed me how to cook and make good coffee. She used to run our family restaurant when I was a kid, remember? She gave me the startup money for the Bean. She--she helped me become who I am today.”

  “She was an amazing woman. And she lived a great life,” I told her. “I’m sure she passed away knowing how deeply loved she was. We all loved her, El. She was a pillar of the community.”

  “She was,” Elisa cried into my shoulder. “She was.”

  After a few quiet moments of crying, she finally stood back up and wiped her eyes. Her face was all puffy and pink, and I knew she was nowhere near done crying yet, but she was trying to pull herself together. And I knew why.

  “Oh god. I have to tell Bella,” she whispered. “She’s going to fall apart. You know how she is. Oh, we’ll have to close down shop for the day, at least. Do you want to grab a coffee before you go?” she said to me suddenly, wiping at her eyes again.

  “Oh, sweetheart. You don’t have to do that.”

  She nodded vigorously. “Yes. Yes, I do. Just let me go pour you a coffee to go, okay? You’ll be our last customer today. Can you, uh, help me clear out the shop?”

  I agreed, following her back inside. I had a feeling Elisa wanted to make the coffee to give herself a bit of a sense of normalcy. I went one by one to each table, explaining as briefly and vaguely as I could that the Andhrimir family had just suffered a major loss and it would be helpful if they could close down for the day. To their credit, everyone obliged willingly – although a few people looked like they wanted to ask more questions, and as they left most were texting away - and before long the shop was empty. Elisa brought me a to-go cup of coffee, kissed me on the cheek, and sent me on my way.

  “Thank you for telling me,” she said. “I’ll call you later, okay? I need to go talk to Bella.”

  I nodded. “Of course. Take as long as you need. Look after yourself and Bella. I’ll be around if you need anything at all.”

  She gave me a faint smile and turned away, then promptly came back. There was a question in her eyes that worried me. Softly, she asked, “Arti, I know this isn’t your responsibility, but after everything that happened with the Peter Olsen case awhile back, I trust you. More than the police. I trust you.”

  “What are you saying?” I asked warily. She bit her lip.

  “Arti, I want you to work Aunt Su’s case,” she said.

  “Elisa-”

  “Please,” she interrupted, her eyes insistent. “You don’t have to go hardcore on it, but just keep your eyes peeled, please. If you think of anything, please let me know. I’m at a loss here. I don’t understand how this could happen.”

  “I’m not a detective, El. I don’t know what I’m doing,” I told her. But she looked so sad that I relented. After all, Elisa was one of my best friends. I couldn’t say no to her. “But okay. I’ll think about it.”

  Elisa nodded. “Thank you. Be in touch, okay?”

  “I will,” I promised her.

  She walked into the back kitchen where Bella worked as a baker and I headed out, not wanting to be anywhere near that inevitable meltdown. Bella was a very shy, sensitive, timid girl who didn’t deal with stress very well.

  Luna was waiting outside the cafe in the same spot I left her. She actually liked the Andhrimir sisters quite a bit, but she didn’t quite know how to react to outbursts of human emotion sometimes, unless it was me.

  “Thanks for hanging back,” I told her, scooping her back up onto my shoulder.

  “Of course,” she said. “I hate being left out, but I had a feeling there wasn’t much I could do to help this time.”

  “No. Honestly, I wouldn’t know how to help, either. That’s the kind of situation where you just have to make it up as you go along,” I explained. Luna nodded and rubbed against my cheek, purring comfortingly again.

  “So, what now?” she asked.

  “Well,” I sighed, “this day has already taken a dark turn, but I do still have my to-do list.”

  “So we’re going to the hardware store?” she asked.

  “Yep,” I confirmed, hopping on my broom. We zoomed off across town to the hardware shop, my mind racing. I felt so callous, going back to my daily chore list after delivering such heavy news. But I knew it wouldn’t do anyone any good for me to dwell on it too much. Not yet. Elisa wanted me to help, and I would, if I got any leads. But for now, I needed to tend to my own business, even if it hurt to do so.

  A few minutes later I leaned my broom against the side of the red-brick building that housed Moonlight Cove Hardware and Building Center and headed inside, Luna jaunting along next to me, the smell of lumber and paint wafting over us. I loved the hardware store, having made many trips there as a kid with my father. Not long after arriving, the owner, a powerfully-built man named Vincent Miller, who wouldn’t have looked out of place working as a lumberjack, came strolling up to me with a grin on his face.

  “Hiya, Arti!” he said, his voice booming and pleasant.

  “Hey, Vincent,” I said, returning his smile.

  “What brings you in today? Roof need patching up? Wallpaper peeling?” he asked.

  “Actually, I’ve got a list,” I told him, rattling off all the things going wrong at the bed and breakfast. He nodded slowly, adding it all up in his head. After some consideration, he gave me an estimate for how much it would all cost, which made me a little woozy to think about. But he was right - it would be a pricey update to such a big, old house. And I knew he was trustworthy, he wouldn’t inflate the prices to make an extra buck. Vincent was a good guy. He and my father went way back.

  He gave me some more tips on how I might tackle some of the remodels for a cheaper cost, which I greatly appreciated, and then offered to stop by and help out. I grinned and thanked him. “I’ll definitely take you up on that. Thank you.”

  “You got it. Anything for Jerry’s kid,” Vincent responded happily.

  As I headed back out into the cool air, I texted my mom. I realized that there was one more
person I still needed to tell about what the cops found in the water this morning. My mother, Celeste, had been good friends with Susanna Andhrimir. I was sure the gossip machine would reach her before too long, and I figured she would rather get the bad news from me. I let her know I was heading over, and Luna and I hopped back on the broom.

  Chapter 4

  My broom swept down an old cobblestone path just around an awkward corner on the side of a hill in town, shaded by tall trees that made my parents’ new home err on the side of spooky when the moon was dark.

  Even though my parents’ cottage, their retirement home they’d moved into after leaving me the B&B - was in town, a short stone wall allowed it to sit a ways back from the road, which gave them a bit of a yard. The town didn’t have cars and wasn’t built to accommodate them, but that didn’t mean we had to be as cramped as some human settlements that weren’t built for cars. Besides, most witch families wanted space for little herb gardens. Between my parents’ yard space and the mushrooms that thrived in the tree shade, they had that on lockdown.

  “Oooh, I missed this place!” Luna purred as we swept down the path to the door, and she jumped off the broom before we’d even come to a full stop. Luna rarely came out with me, and it had been a while since she’d been here last. I smiled as I watched her bound off to chase some of the squirrels in the yard around, just like she had when I first brought her here. I didn’t really have to worry too much about the squirrels – Luna had always been terrible at catching them. For a cat, she was a very bad hunter. Frankly, that was fine by me; I’d rather the local wildlife get to live long, natural lives without having to worry about my cat.

  While Luna busied herself watching the squirrel she’d just chased up a tree squeal down at her angrily, I propped my broom up against the stone side of the cottage. It was a cozy, round building made of brown stone with a darker brown slatted roof. It certainly had its modern touches, but like most witches, Mom favored older-style architecture. There was a tiny balcony on the second floor that was more like a standing space than a balcony, and from it hung Dad’s spice garden, which practically overflowed with green.

  There was a little bit of magic at work in his garden, but he’d deny it under oath if he had to.

  I pushed open the wooden door and was overwhelmed by the sights and smells of home. No matter what, my mom was able to make wherever she lived feel more homey than anywhere else in the world.

  The stone floor and the huge rugs that covered it were old ones that had been in our family for generations, and the hearth in the middle of the room was extinguished, still freshly blackened from the previous night’s fire. Above it was a shelf full of family pictures that had grown so much that they’d taken to hanging them above the shelf too. It was like a slowly-growing explosion of memories radiating from the hearth: there were pictures of me and Di together as kids, one of her giving a half-toothless grin when she was just starting to lose teeth, one of me proudly holding my first wand during my short-lived career as a duelist, both our graduations from the Academy, and so on.

  Then I saw the photo of me holding Luna for the first time, and happy tears sprang to my eyes without the shadow of a warning, and I had to wipe them away quickly before Dad came walking through the entrance to the kitchen, a big smile on his face as always.

  “Well, hey there, honey! Long time no see!” he joked, crossing the living room to hug me. It had probably been three days since I’d last seen my dad. He then stood back and looked at my shiny eyes and frowned. “Is everything okay?”

  “Oh, it’s fine,” I said with a laugh, sniffing. “Walking in here is just like, well, a furnace of nostalgia.” Dad followed my gaze to the wall and chuckled.

  “Oh yeah, you’re telling me! Why do you think I spend all my time in here?” Sure enough, dad’s rocking chair sat in the corner of the room next to a large bookshelf, every book on it well-loved. It wasn’t the only reading nook in the room. Dad liked a little variety even with his familiar creature comforts. “It’s growing, too, look here!” He started to point out some of the newer pictures of him and mom, all of them smiling brightly at the camera in various places. Some of them were obviously taken locally, like one of Mom in a wetsuit beside her surfboard behind dad, the cameraman, taking a selfie of the two of them with the skill of a teenager. There were others from their recent trips – they were not idle in their retirement - but just as dad began rambling about their trip to Aruba, Mom popped her head through the doorway and came in.

  “Oh, Jerry, she doesn’t want to hear about all that,” she chided, coming over and taking me into a warm hug before ushering me into the kitchen. “Look at her, she’s half-starved, she can hear all about the nice waiter you made friends with after lunch!”

  “Oh, I’m fine, really, mom” I said, but as soon as I entered the kitchen, the smell of my mom’s cooking made my stomach disagree. I had learned from the best. And after all, hobbits had second breakfast, why couldn’t witches?

  “Nonsense, look at you!” mom said, poking my side with a tut. “Don’t make me sound like a granny by telling you you’re all skin and bones. You are eating some of what you cook for your guests, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, Mom,” I replied, rolling my eyes behind her back as she bustled over to the oven. Mom’s kitchen was truly her part of the house, and she made sure it was always in perfect shape. The stone floors and countertops were immaculate, the wood cabinets looked somehow ancient and yet also glossy like new, and above every window was a bundle of drying herbs the size of your arm. She had garlic cloves, rosemary, parsley, camphor, cayenne, chamomile, and more.

  I took a seat at the wooden table where a little placemat was already laid out, and Mom brought me over a mug of tea to tide me over until the food.

  “I started cooking as soon as I heard you were coming over, so you’d better have room, young lady,” she chided me, and I couldn’t help but smile as she zipped around the kitchen. I wasn’t that hungry, but I could tell that in some ways, Mom really missed pampering guests at the B&B. And right now, I was the guest, so I could sit back and indulge her. Of course, the fact that the aromas wafting over from the stove were so incredible they could have probably started wars back in ancient times.

  It was almost enough to make me forget why I’d come over.

  I’d hardly finished my tea when mom brought over a massive bowl of fiddlehead salad, including dill, shallots, fresh Boston lettuce, chopped pecans, just the right amount of olive oil, and of course, a ton of the tastiest fern fiddleheads I’d ever tasted. That on its own could have filled me up, so I paced myself while Dad took a seat across from me, determined not to be left out of this feast, and Mom brought over the main course, or rather, courses.

  “I couldn’t decide between the mushroom pie and smoked salmon, so I made both,” Mom said in a matter-of-fact way, and I almost choked on my salad. How on earth did my parents stay in decent shape with my mom cooking all the time?

  But by the moon, it was good. The mushroom pie recipe was one I knew well: shiitake from the logs out back, chanterelles from the trails around town, and portobellos and creminis from the grocery store. The butter and parmesan came from one of their neighbors whose dairy farm was famous in magical circles, and it just so happened that he liked their shiitake enough to barter. And of course, Dad grew the rosemary, thyme, and sage himself, meaning that in just about every way possible, it was one heck of a local recipe. It wasn’t even farm-to-table, it was more like backyard-to-table.

  I was still working on the “find a neighbour with the most famous cheese in the magical world” part, but I could still get pretty close to replicating the pie. The salmon was a little troublesome, though, because that was one thing that could not keep Luna out of the kitchen.

  “So,” mom said as she finally sat down with all the food, the entire table covered with plates. It looked more like Thanksgiving dinner than a casual visit.“How are things at the B&B? No more bodies turning up on the front lawn, I
hope?”

  “Not exactly,” I said with a nervous laugh after digging into the pie. “That’s partly why I wanted to come over, though.”

  Mom looked at me with raised eyebrows, and with as much delicacy as I handled the conversation with Elisa, I explained over lunch what had happened this morning at the beach, from finding Susanna to breaking the news to her niece.

  Reactions were about what I expected. Dad looked stunned, his jaw dropping and his face falling, while Mom looked more offended than anything else, shaking her head as she attacked her salmon.

  “I swear, this town!” she grumbled, “It’s getting so dark you’d think we’re on the backside of the moon. You and the police are sure it’s Susanna, too?”

  “Without a doubt,” I said with a nod. “News will be getting around town before lunch is over, I’d guess. I know you two weren’t exactly close, but I was wondering if you knew each other at all.”

  Mom gave me a hard look as she chewed her fish, then a single chuckle. “You’re going to try and solve this murder too, aren’t you?”

  I felt a little color in my cheeks that made Mom shake her head as she laughed.

  “That police officer is going to start putting you on house arrest anytime a crime’s reported, you know.”

  “I’m not doing this for fun!” I insisted, ignoring the look dad gave me when he knew I was lying but wasn’t going to say anything about it. “Elisa asked me to look into things a little. Nothing illegal. I’m not trying to clear your name again, if that’s what you’re wondering. For once, you’re not actually a suspect. As far as I know, anyway. Please tell me there’s no reason for you to be a suspect.”

  “No, of course not. Well, don’t worry, I don’t plan on doing any more questioning of my own this time,” Mom said before taking a drink of water and sitting back, taking a breather before finishing off her pie before looking out the window thoughtfully for a moment before speaking again. “Susanna though, she is - or was - a character. I didn’t know her that well, but I knew of her alright.”