Phantom Blend (A Paramour Bay Cozy Paranormal Mystery Book 12) Page 4

  “It was someone who was a member of the coven,” Heidi whispered in horror, having learned that it was best to avoid some of the more powerful witches and wizards who resided up in Windsor. “Do you think you can cast one of those spells where you can see the last few moments of a person’s life to see what happened?”

  “I doubt it,” I replied regretfully, holding open the screen door. Wilma and Elsie were still sitting across from one another at each of the designated tables arguing over the wicker basket. Several of the residents were milling about, and I could see that some of the items we’d set out had sold. No one was the wiser that we had an enchanted mirror in the house with a trapped soul whirling about inside of it. “Dark magic was utilized to imprison Bernard’s spirit in the mirror, Heidi. I think we’re going to have to solve this the old-fashioned way.”

  “Not necessarily,” Heidi quipped, pointing toward the one person I’d been hoping to avoid the rest of the day.

  My mother was walking our way.

  Regina Lattice Marigold came strolling down the sidewalk with her long black hair piled high on top of her head, her ever present makeup applied to perfection, and what appeared to be a purpose to her step.

  I’ve gone over to the dark side, Raven, and there isn’t a thing you can do to stop me.

  Both Heidi and I almost missed a step on the porch as Leo materialized out of nowhere. It was a good thing that he’d been in the shadows of the awning or else someone might have spotted his obvious magical arrival.

  “Leo, you were supposed to stay inside with Bernard,” I chastised, turning around so that no one saw me carrying on a conversation with my cat. “Why on earth would you go tell my mother about this? You know how she gets, and then things spiral out of control to the point that I want to pull my hair out. It seems counterproductive even for you.”

  You’ve got me there. I’ll confess. I might well have been the one to convince my beloved Rosemary to shove Bernard in the back of the linen closet. I can only take so much of his inane rambling. It goes on and on and on…

  “So you decided to call in my mother as a reinforcement?” I repeated in disbelief, covering my face with my hands as I attempted to figure a way out of this predicament. “Leo, she’s liable to call Aunt Rowena. Remember her? The one we’re trying to avoid because you’re the key to making the Windsor Stone reactivate? You are literally the one entity standing in the way of the coven communicating freely with our ancestors.”

  Hmmm. I might have acted a bit too hastily then. In my defense, Bernard started rambling on about some tobacco farm, and I lost my mind momentarily. Why would I want to hear about pipe tobacco when I could be outside investigating Skippy and his band of ninja misfits?

  I snuck a peek over my shoulder to see how close my mother had gotten, but she had thankfully been waylaid by Wilma. The older woman was similar to Bernard where she could talk anyone’s ear off. The only thing that seemed to get past her and Elsie was the supernatural, and I had a feeling that was only because such a thing was hard to naturally accept.

  I mean, who would be okay with his or her own town having such odd local residents like a witch, warlock, werewolf, and a grim reaper? I couldn’t think of one single human when even Liam and Heidi were wary of the power contained within the supernatural element in this town.

  “How on earth is investigating Skippy and his friends the key to this investigation?” I asked incredulity, refusing to admit defeat. Maybe an offer of some edibles would sidetrack him. “We’re dealing with black magic, Leo. Not the squirrelpocalypse.”

  Oh, Raven, Raven, Raven. Don’t you see that the black magic behind the squirrelpocalypse just leveled up to a code red level? If Skippy’s ancestors and their ninja misfits went into cahoots with a wicked witch to commit murder over a golden treasure, then there are no bounds to the lengths they’ll go to burn our town to the ground. They must be stopped! Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go see the spawn of Satan’s mini-dragon about a small trade.

  Chapter Four

  “I’m actually at a loss for words.”

  My mother began to gingerly sit in the same exact seat that I’d occupied earlier, her lips remaining slightly parted in astonishment at the sight before her. On one hand, she seemed fascinated by Bernard’s floating head in the mirror. On the other, a part of her seemed ready to hurl the saltshaker at him in sheer frustration.

  What in the world had I missed about our current predicament?

  My mother was never out of sorts.

  It was a good thing that I’d taken the time to give the short version of our situation to my mother while we’d been standing on the porch, or else I’m not so sure she would have heard a word I said as she stared at the hand mirror.

  She was still studying Bernard as if he were a bug underneath a microscope.

  As for Leo, he’d completely vanished into thin air, apparently in an attempt to convince the chickadee—who I’d dubbed Mr. C—to help spy on the local squirrels. It seemed that Leo was attempting to recruit his own Air Force. At some point, I’d need to break it to him that the neighborhood wildlife had nothing to do with Bernard being trapped in a mirror.

  I’m fairly sure that he was going to default to his conspiracy theories.

  “I’ve never seen nor heard of anything quite like this, Raven. I’m not sure how to process this, so I’m going to need a minute.”

  As I’d already mentioned, it was rare that my mother was ever shocked by anything when it came to the supernatural element.

  Granted, she’d left Paramour Bay in her early twenties.

  She’d all but abandoned my grandmother and the Marigold way of life thirty-some years ago, claiming that she’d wanted to raise her daughter in a magic-free setting. She might have kept me in the dark for decades, but I’d figured out that she’d secretly practiced the entire time so that she wouldn’t lose touch with her abilities.

  Somewhere on the fringes of the ‘do as I say, not as I do’ camp, I guess.

  “Well, that’s a rare occurrence indeed,” Bernard exclaimed in response to my mother, causing her to startle a bit before she leaned forward to get a better look at the mirror and Bernard’s pale face. “You never seem to be at a loss for words, Ms. Marigold. I’ve heard you rattle on and on about—”

  “Zip it, Bernard,” my mother ordered him as she turned toward me abruptly. I guess it hadn’t taken her as long as I’d thought to come to terms with our situation. I was now standing in the middle of the kitchen, thankful that Heidi had offered to watch my table. I had a feeling that my first contribution to the annual garage sale was going to have to take place without me. “Raven, do you know what kind of power it would take to trap a spirit in a mirror?”

  Bernard squinted his eyes in irritation at the way my mother had dismissed him, but unfortunately that was her nature. She was a woman who didn’t waste time, and she liked to get straight to the point.

  For once, I wasn’t inclined to chastise her for being rude.

  Bernard had that effect on everyone, including myself.

  The faster we figured out how to solve this predicament, the quicker that Bernard could cross into the afterlife and annoy everyone there.

  I’d already asked myself the question that my mother had just posed to me, and I’d come away with the answer of very dark magic. So dark that it shouldn’t be messed with by a novice witch like myself or even a well-seasoned one like my mother. I gave that exact answer to her, while tacking on that I also thought our recent murder case might be connected to the coven.

  “It’s the only solution I can come up with for the abilities needed to cast a spell so strong, but the only other guest at the inn during Bernard’s visit had been a man by the name of Paulie Russo,” I explained, taking the chair that Heidi had vacated earlier. It might be better to have the rest of this conversation sitting down. I never knew what was going to come out of my mother’s mouth. “Do you recognize the surname from the ancestral tree of the coven?”


  There was a tapestry hanging in the hall where the coven convened their ceremonies. It detailed the line of succession from the very first witch in the Windsor, Connecticut coven from back in the 1600s. The weave of the tapestry was enchanted. Only a witch could read the patterns and see the names contained in the lines, thus the secrecy of the coven was protected.

  “No, but I think you’re wrong about the coven.” My mother tapped one of her long red nails on the table, which was when I knew that what she had to say was something I really didn’t want to hear. “I do believe we’re looking at the work of a druid, and I don’t mean an initiate of the circle.”

  “A name-level druid?” I repeated, having studied about their kind in Nan’s materials.

  Unlike our coven, they had a strict hierarchy.

  A name-level druid was extremely rare. In fact, their known travels outside of Celtic lands was next to nonexistent. One would have better luck finding a leprechaun. I hadn’t met an initiate druid in person, and I wasn’t sure doing so would be such a good idea. They had a tendency to judge quickly and act even faster.

  Druids sought the balance, nature being the ultimate arbiter in all things.

  Leo and I were doing everything we could to make sure that his connection to the coven’s stone, its most prized possession above all other things, was kept secret.

  It was vital that secret remain on the downlow.

  A druid would instantly recognize that connection, especially an arch-druid. One could see the magnetic lines present in the magical weave that the witches drew power from. Only we were aware that he could make the stone activate once again, and it needed to stay that way for his safety.

  “I didn’t know any druids of that renown were around these parts.”

  Bernard cleared his throat, as if he was going to put his two cents into the conversation. My mother only needed to arch her right eyebrow for him to second guess his decision. She was definitely a force to be reckoned with.

  “Druids like to keep to themselves, much like you and me. Don’t get me wrong. There are some who might be very involved in what they call a grove or circle, but such gatherings are a rarity. Four times a year at most. They are held during the summer and winter solstice, and then again during the fall and spring equinox. Druids are far more powerful than us, and they have the ability to harness enough energy from the earth to actually alter the weather or change the structure of the weave itself. It’s even been said they can foretell the future and forestall an approaching paradox,” my mother revealed, pursing her lips afterward as she paused to give the situation some thought. I shared a skeptical look at Bernard, wondering how on earth he’d upset a druid enough that he or she would imprison a spirit into a mirror for all eternity. “I suppose this Paulie Russo could have been a druid traveling through the area. Did you say that your grandmother looked into this?”

  “Oh, yes,” Bernard responded for me, nodding his head robustly so that the white mist appeared as if they were loose strands of hair. “Rosemary was constantly visiting the inn, speaking to Mabel’s daughter about her family history. My dear Mabel admitted to knowing what her great-grandfather had done, and we were going to speak on that fateful night about how to rectify the situation—mainly me staking a claim in the inn. Anyway, I’d made sure the fire was blazing and our drinks were poured, but—”

  Well, that didn’t go quite as planned.

  Leo had returned and somehow looked even more worse for wear than he usually did. There was also a chickadee feather stuck to his fur, and what appeared to be the tiniest bald spot on his head. He’d claimed the same chair he had before, swaying slightly from his hasty appearance.

  Satan’s mini-dragon lived up to her nickname. She forced my hand, and now I’ve taken her name off my potential list of allies and slid her name right underneath Skippy’s on my confirmed foe list. I can already tell it’s going to be an all-out war this season, Raven.

  “Leo, Skippy’s ancestors had nothing to do with Bernard’s murder and subsequent imprisonment,” I reminded him, handing the conversation over to my mother. She was the queen when it came to delivering bad news. Plus, I needed that coffee that I hardly ever seemed to be able to drink this morning. “Mom, tell Leo what we suspect.”

  You don’t have to. I’ve suddenly decided that it’s okay to be kept in the dark, especially where your mother is concerned. I don’t know what I was thinking to bring her in on this mystery. As a matter of fact, I have my own question for you, Bernard. You don’t happen to have any extra room in that mirror, do you?

  “Stop being so dramatic,” my mother admonished, reaching over and plucking out the feather that had gotten stuck in Leo’s fur. “I think we’re dealing with a named druid, possibly an arch-druid.”

  I’d been pouring myself some coffee in the cup that I’d just rinsed out, but I didn’t have to turn around to know that Mom had stunned Leo into complete silence. Leo’s reaction to anyone or anything with such strong power being in our proximity was usually met with denial.

  It wouldn’t surprise me to hear him say—

  I must have misunderstood your mother, Raven. The Mistress of the Dark seems to be confused about our predicament. I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll accept that Skippy’s ancestors and their ninja misfits had nothing to do with Bernard’s murder, as long as you guarantee me that we send your mother back to the city. I mean, even the Big Apple needs a worm, right?

  “Now listen here, you little—”

  “I’m beginning to feel like I should never have left the linen closet,” Bernard interjected wryly, floating to the left side of the mirror so that he could address me. By this time, I’d turned around and took a much-needed drink of coffee. “Miss Marigold, I realize that my greed is what probably put me here, but I do not recall anyone other than Paulie Russo being at the inn during my stay. We must all assume that he is the d—”

  Don’t you dare say the D word, Bernard. Skippy’s minions might have put the first crack in you, but I can get the Mistress of the Dark here to drop you down a very deep dark well. If anyone deserves seven years of bad luck, it’s—

  “Everyone, just stop,” I exclaimed, proud of my assertion when all three sets of eyes focused on me. “Leo, you know that the type of magic used to confine Bernard to the mirror isn’t your ordinary witchcraft. Mom might be right about a druid being involved, and—

  I’ll be back momentarily, Raven.

  Leo did one of his blipping things, where he disappeared only to leave behind a few strands of his fur floating in the air. I sighed, holding up a hand to stop either my mother or Bernard from complaining about Leo’s inability to accept that we might be dealing with anything out of the ordinary.

  It was better to wait for his return.

  Besides, I had a sneaking suspicion of where he’d gone in order to regain his composure. If I was right, we shouldn’t be waiting too long.

  I took advantage of the wait and sipped my coffee, enjoying a moment of rare peace.

  One minute turned into four.

  Leo finally materialized with what looked to be bits and morsels of catnip all over his face.

  Sure enough, he’d left to go pay a visit to teashop.

  You see, my part-time help at the store was a gentleman by the name of Beetle—the one who’d sold his accounting firm to Heidi. He hadn’t wanted to waste away his retirement years when he was still relatively young, so he’d come inside the shop one day and basically said that he was going to work for me as a clerk.

  Trust me. It was just easier to go along with some things when you lived in a town like Paramour Bay. To complicate matters further, Beetle and my mother…

  I had to rub my right temple when a dull, throbbing pain set up residence.

  Let me try that again.

  Beetle and my mother…

  Oh, just spit it out. Your mother is shacking up with my catnip supplier, they’re going to get married, and then our lives are going to burn to the ground around us before we’r
e forced to seek out a druid responsible for this talking head you see before us. All in all? Not a bad way to go out. Have you seen my pipe?

  “That is right, old chap,” Bernard exclaimed in glee, floating to the middle of the mirror so that he could basically throw me and Leo under the bus. “I hear congratulations are in order on your engagement, Ms. Marigold. Wonderful news! Have you chosen a date yet? I was in love once, you know. She was—”

  “We have more important things to worry about than me marrying Beetle,” my mother stated, stopping Bernard from going on another sidelong tangent. “We can talk dates later. Right now, we have a possible druid to find. Raven, it’s best that you and Leo go speak with Gertie about what she knows regarding her ancestors and their involvement with this so-called gold heist. You mentioned that Liam is researching this Paulie Russo fellow, so maybe he can locate a descendent we can speak to in order to rule out that he came from a family of druids. Heidi can manage the garage sale on her own, and Bernard can go find a mirror at the inn to occupy in hopes that Gertie mentions something about her mother after you and Leo leave the inn.”

  Uh, is my short-term memory loss rearing its ugly head? I feel like I’m missing something here. What’s this about Bernard jumping mirrors?

  “Occupy another mirror, you say?” Bernard asked, raising both eyebrows in astonishment. “I can do that?”

  “No time like the present to find out,” my mother said with certainty, standing from the table with a determined look.

  Your mother is making me feel like we need a secret handshake for a secret club that isn’t so secret anymore. Can’t we vote her out or something? I’m not liking the direction this is taking us, Raven. My memory might be spotty, but I do remember that druids are not the type of supernatural beings who should be sought out on purpose. There’s probably a pretty good reason Bernard is now a floating head inside a mirror. Did you ever consider that?