Broomstick Blend Read online

  You know that I’m not for all that sappy stuff, but you should be very cautious on what guarantees you offer in this situation, my dear Raven. You only have control over your own abilities. Your mother is an entirely different animal.

  Leo’s usual theatrics had been put aside as he hammered home another lesson. As much as he might have his annual squirrel battles, his conspiracy theories, and his raging addiction to exotic Honduran catnip, he really did have my best interest at heart.

  “There are many rules of the coven,” I began, keeping my cell phone in my hand so that I could read my mother’s answer as soon as she responded. “Even though I’m not a part of the coven, the guidelines are there for all of our protection. First and foremost, no witch or wizard should use magic for their own gain. There are supernatural repercussions for doing so, and those consequences can be pretty severe.”

  Really? Now who is hammering home a nail in the proverbial coffin lid?

  I reached over and stroked Leo’s back, letting him know that I hadn’t been talking about his looks. That necromancy spell had done a number on him, but he’d made the sacrifice to stay behind for me. I would be eternally grateful for such a selfless act.

  There you go again, getting all mushy-gushy on me.

  “Magic is to be used for the all-encompassing good,” I continued, needing Liam to understand that I would never let him be hurt by my family. Leo was right in that I couldn’t control everything, but I could protect him from my mother’s bad choices. “Witchcraft should be utilized to help others, which I would do in a heartbeat to protect you. My mom might have had ulterior motives for stealing the broomstick from the security of the police station, but your life was in danger. She thought she was protecting you. No one knows how long the broomstick needs to be in one’s possession before the curse takes hold. I’ll make sure that my mother has the original item returned—minus the hex—or that an exact replica is produced and put into its place so that no one else is the wiser.”

  Right on cue, my cell phone vibrated and displayed my mother’s response. Let’s just say that she was a bit offended that I would believe she hadn’t thought to cover her tracks, and that she would never expose our family’s abilities to the sheriff of Paramour Bay, of all people.

  Oh, I can’t wait to see the expression on your mother’s face when you tell her that you already spilled the witchcraft beans. My BFF better have brought me another satchel of premium organic catnip so that I have something to munch on during the fireworks display later tonight.

  “Mom took care of it,” I shared with such a huge sense of relief that I had to lean my head back against the headrest. “No one will ever know that the broomstick in your possession isn’t the original one, which is currently buried to protect others against the curse.”

  Maybe it’s because I’m in a good mood now that my itching has subsided—not that I don’t think it wouldn’t have gone away on its own—but I’m proposing another trip to see Rowena. I’m beginning to feel we’re getting the old runaround from your mother. If we need to lower our standards to use Rowena against her, then so be it. And no, this isn’t the horse pill talking. Or is it? Does antihistamine boost courage? Asking for a friend.

  A little bit of color began to gradually return to Liam’s hands, but it was evident that he was still struggling with everything that I’ve laid on his doorstep today.

  You mean the bombshell of all witchy bombshells?

  “This is going to take some getting used to, isn’t it?” Liam said, finally getting ready to flip his turn signal so we could take the exit to the long and winding road that would take us back to Paramour Bay. “I’m not quite sure how I feel about evidence in a major felony investigation being replaced by a replica. With that said and if this curse does exist, I wouldn’t want to be responsible for someone else falling victim to some horrible death curse.”

  “It’s a lot to shoulder,” I replied softly, glad when Liam reached in front of Leo to hold my hand. I ignored Leo’s imitation of hacking up a hairball. “The learning curve is pretty steep, and I can admit to not being a fast learner.”

  You’re understating the obvious. The good ol’ sheriff really ought to know what he’s getting himself into, you know. If you can make my tail go numb for hours, I can only imagine the risk Liam would be taking with his—

  “Is Leo trying to tell me something?” Liam asked, cutting off Leo’s incessant meowing. “He seems very adamant right now.”

  Hand, Raven. You know, the one he needs to do his job? If my life is in danger, I’d like for him to be able to reach for his firearm. Get your mind out of the gutter and listen.

  “Leo gets a bit frustrated with me on my learning curve,” I replied wryly, ready to switch topics. “Liam, I learned some things while I was in the kitchen with Kathleen and Deidre that put an entirely new spin on the direction of your case.”

  “You mean the fact that Deidre believes that her husband was having an affair with Becca Wilson?” Liam had already driven down the off ramp and was making sure the coast was clear before pulling onto the two-lane road. “Laura Midleaf pulled me aside while you were getting Leo some antihistamine. The other two women weren’t happy that she requested to speak with me in private, but Mrs. Midleaf is tired of all the lies and deception within their small group. They’ve been friends for many years, but it’s not been without their fair share of small-town drama.”

  “Doesn’t that give Deidre motive? I feel bad for even suggesting that she could be responsible, but I also know the spouse is usually the prime suspect in these types of cases.”

  I fully expected Leo to give his two cents, but he remained quiet. The two vents in the dashboard were still blowing cool air in his direction, and he was enjoying the slight breeze with his eyes closed. On the bright side, he wasn’t continually scratching anymore. The antihistamine had kicked in a few miles back.

  “This is what we know so far,” Liam began to share as he made himself a bit more comfortable in the driver’s seat now that he didn’t have to worry about explaining missing evidence. “Deputy Wilson went hiking last weekend, stumbled over something sticking out of the ground, and dug up the broom. He brought it back to the station with him, where it stayed until Sheriff O’Leary said he’d drive it to the antique shop to see if Kathleen or Lydia might think it was worth money and want to sell it from their shop.”

  “Sell it?” This was the first I was hearing about such an exchange. “Why would Sheriff O’Leary believe a broom was worth anything, and who told you this?”

  “Becca did after you left the room to take your phone call.” Liam lifted his left hand to wave at a passing vehicle. “Anyway, Sheriff O’Leary thought the branded B on the handle meant it was some sort of recognizable antique. One with a history.”

  A soft snore began to carry throughout the cab of the truck. That antihistamine must have really done a number on Leo.

  “And that’s it?” I asked, having truly believed there was something more to the story. “What about the list of herbs that Sheriff O’Leary had clutched in his hand when he died?”

  “Let’s back up to the morning he left the station. Becca was there, and we now have two different versions of what happened before Sheriff O’Leary left for Paramour Bay. Deputy Wilson claims that there was no mention of Paramour Bay, which his wife contradicts. Their account of that day doesn’t match, but neither Jack nor I are ready to point that out without first talking with Lydia.”

  “One of them is obviously lying. Do you think that Deputy Wilson found out about the affair between his boss and wife? Does Jack believe that Deputy Wilson killed Sheriff O’Leary?”

  “Possibly, but we can’t rule out Deidre O’Leary,” Liam pointed out. “She cooked her husband breakfast that morning. What’s not to say she didn’t mix in some of those herbs on his list?”

  “I never did see the list of herbs that Sheriff O’Leary had in his possession,” I reminded Liam, not that I would be able to tell what Sheri
ff O’Leary had ingested or who might have given it to him. I imagine that Jack would be getting the autopsy report any day now. “I find it hard to believe that he didn’t mention a thing to anyone about poisonous herbs, plants, or roots, especially if he suspected that he might be poisoned by his wife soon.”

  “Here.” Liam had set his cell phone in the cup holder of the console Leo was currently sacked out on. “Pull up my text messages. Jack sent me a picture of the list. The medical examiner knows what kind of poison we’re looking for in the bloodwork, but maybe something will stick out for you.”

  Truthfully, I was surprised that Liam hadn’t made the connection between my abilities and the capability of solving the case. I hadn’t been able to cast a spell on the broomstick to seek answers, but a piece of paper was another thing altogether. I’d take a look at it first. Afterward, I would see if Liam could get his hands on the list itself for me to perform a quick incantation.

  We were now entering Paramour Bay, where the wax museum was located to the left and the iconic Paramour Bay Inn was to my right. I quickly found Jack’s name and pressed his text message. I had to scroll down a bit until I came across a photograph of the list that had been in Sheriff O’Leary’s hand.

  It took all my strength to keep the phone in my hand as shockwaves rushed over me at the alarming discovery before me. This couldn’t be happening, and I quickly lowered the phone so that I could look out the windshield.

  “Raven?” Liam’s concern was apparent, but I didn’t have enough air in my lungs to reply. “Raven, what is it?”

  I’m up, I’m up. Why is my fur standing on end? The cab of this truck is like a blanket of static electricity. Whatever you’re doing, Raven, stop it this very instant. That was the best sleep I’ve had in years. Couldn’t you have just left me in the truck with the air conditioning running? I don’t want to move from this spot.

  “We have a problem,” I whispered in horror, lifting the phone one more time to see if anything had changed with the picture in the last four seconds. “A big problem.”

  No, we don’t. Whatever you are looking at on that phone, turn it off. Problem solved. I’m going back to sleep.

  Liam finally pulled the truck to a stop in front of the police station, shifting the gear into park before taking the phone out of my hand. He studied the picture, but he wouldn’t see what I had upon setting eyes on such blasphemy.

  Blasphemy? Photograph?

  “I don’t see what the problem is,” Liam finally confessed, his curious and concerned gaze lifting from the display to settle on what I was sure was complete devastation written across my face. “Talk to me, Raven.”

  “I know that handwriting.”

  Handwriting? Broomstick? Ohhhh, this isn’t good, Raven. My memory is returning, and I really don’t like the images I’m getting from way back then. I never thought I’d say this, but I might be in need of another horse pill. You won’t have to trick me this time…promise.

  “You know who wrote this list?” Liam asked, holding up the phone when I truly had no desire to look at it anymore.

  No, you don’t. You think you do, but you really don’t. My memory could be playing tricks on me. It’s possible. Can there be side effects if one combines generic horrible tasting catnip with an antihistamine? That’s it! This is all a bad dream! Well, technically a nightmare, and it’s all due to that massive horse pill. Tell me I’m right, Raven.

  “The handwriting on that list belongs to my mother,” I managed to say as a hot flash washed over me. I quickly turned one of Leo’s vents my way, leaning forward so the cool air would hit my face. “This is bad. This is really bad.”

  I don’t care about side effects anymore. Give me another horse pill, Raven! Knock me out. Go ahead, because you Marigold women are going to be the death of me yet.

  That’s what I was afraid of…that my mother was somehow responsible for the death of Sheriff O’Leary.

  Ten minutes. I slept more peacefully in ten minutes than I have in years, and you had to go and wake me up to a witchcraft apocalypse started by your mother. I always knew she’d be the death of me.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Beetle, thank you so much for reopening the store,” I exclaimed with a stiff smile plastered across my face. It was actually a little after five o’clock, so I hadn’t been so sure I’d catch him or my mother in the shop. I was more concerned that my mother might have actually headed back into the city, figuring it was only a matter of time before I realized where that list of poisonous components had come from. “I really appreciate it.”

  Don’t you dare let my BFF walk out that door without giving me a bit of that premium organic catnip that he has stored in the front pocket of his dress shirt. I can smell it from here. I need all the help I can get to make it through this upcoming confrontation with your mother.

  “My pleasure, Raven,” Beetle replied, adjusting his bowtie. “My pleasure. We didn’t have much foot traffic after the power finally came back on, but Bree did stop in for that inventory you set aside for the bakery. Your mother just went into the back to put the check in the safe. I thought that best given the amount.”

  I attempted to cover up my tremendous relief that I would be able to have this upcoming skirmish with my mother in person. She always had a tendency to hang up the phone way too soon when I was attempting to extract information from her. We needed to have this conversation face to face.

  You’re assuming that your mother is still in the backroom and hasn’t slipped out the exit upon our return. You give that woman too much credit, Raven.

  I would know better what I was dealing with if Leo would just come clean about what he recalled from the time my mother buried the so-called hexed broomstick. At this point, I wasn’t even sure that was the case.

  Me, either. My brain is mush, and I blame that horse pill you forced on me. Although, my sinuses sure are clear.

  My mother wasn’t the only one who knew how to use a stall tactic.

  I have no idea what you’re talking about, Raven.

  “How is my boy doing in this heat?” Beetle asked, walking over to where Leo had already collapsed on his pillow in the display window. Sure enough, a bit of catnip was being sprinkled in the corner as if this were any other day. “There you go, my friend. There you go.”

  I love him so much. I wish I could warn him off your mother.

  “You know what?” I needed to distract Beetle long enough have a private conversation with my mother. “You and Mom deserve a nice dinner on me, so why don’t you head on over to the diner to grab a table. You know how busy that place can be around this time of day. I’ll send her over after I have a little chat with her about Aunt Rowena. Her birthday is coming up, and I thought we’d go in on a gift for her together.”

  For someone who is such a horrible liar, that was one smooth con.

  Desperation. That was my only excuse, because normally I would have broken out into hives by now. Truthfully, I had no clue when Aunt Rowena celebrated her birthday.

  “What a wonderful idea, Raven! Wonderful idea,” Beetle said after patting Leo on the head and leaving my familiar to indulge in his favorite pastime. “Let your mother know I’ll try to grab our favorite booth. It was where I first looked into those green eyes of hers and realized that she was the one for me.”

  Why do all of you people have the knack for making me want to hack up a hairball?

  “Mother, come out here right this second,” I demanded after the bell chimed above the entrance to signify that Beetle had exited the shop. “Now!”

  If I didn’t know what was about to be discussed, I would have enjoyed this front view seat with my delicious snack.

  “Maybe we could have avoided this confrontation if you had told me what I wanted to know about the curse,” I muttered, still not hearing the ivory-colored fairy beads conduct their melodic clicks to indicate my mother was coming out of her hiding place. “Mom, I’m serious. I want the truth. A man’s life was taken by poison, an
d the list he had clutched inside his hand at the time of his death was written by you.”

  Yep. That caught the Queen Witch’s attention.

  “I had nothing to do with that man’s death, Raven Lattice,” my mother defiantly exclaimed, appearing through the ivory-colored fairies as if nothing was wrong. She walked quickly to the counter and placed both hands on the hard surface anxiously as she leaned toward me. “The incantation that I utilized on the dirt where the broomstick was buried showed exactly who dug it up. How was it even possible for that deputy to know there was something underneath all that undergrowth?”

  “Deputy Wilson simply tripped over it,” I divulged, noting that Mom still hadn’t addressed the list of material components. “I guess the rain washed away some of the dirt over the years and a bit of the handle was eventually exposed. Where did Sheriff O’Leary obtain that list, Mom?”

  My memory returned, Regina. You might as well tell your daughter everything, because she’s really good at force feeding one a horse pill. There’s no telling what she can do to make you talk.

  “One thing a mother never wants is to disappoint her own daughter.”

  I shot Leo a glare, a part of me realizing that this moment was very hard for my mother. The vulnerability across her aging yet beautiful features was quite evident, but I needed to hear the truth regarding the cursed broomstick.

  “Mom, no one is perfect. That includes you,” I replied softly, reaching for her hands. I clasped her fingers, causing her green gaze to meet mine. Once again, I was astounded by the helplessness I saw there. “Tell me. It can’t be worse than some of the things I’ve done in my attempt to learn what little witchcraft I command thus far.”

  I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I’m pretty sure causing a man to be dead is worse than prompting my tail to turn numb. Just thought I’d point that one out.

  “Thank you, Leo,” my mother said wryly with a roll of her eyes. She inhaled deeply, as if to find the strength she’d need to carry through with the conversation. She squeezed my fingers in what I assumed was supposed to be reassurance, but we were talking about murder…whether intentional or not. “Raven, you know that I love you.”