A Drop of Witch (A Cozy Mystery Book): Sweetland Witch Read online

  I didn’t know Mayor Singer very well. He seemed like a nice enough man, but everyone had their breaking point. Was it possible that Mistmoor Point’s mayor had a grudge against Paisley? He’d been at the party, too. He could just as easily have snagged that skeleton key as Paisley.

  “What would you like?” Detective Hudson asked. “My treat.”

  “That’s not necessary.”

  “I insist. My small way of making up for being such a nag.”

  “A very small way,” I replied, not looking at him.

  I caught Lucy smirking at us.

  “Fine. Iced chai chipper latte, please.”

  “And I’ll take a coffee. Black.”

  Lucy and I stared at him. “Black coffee?” I asked.

  “You don’t want something a little more...” Lucy tried to find the right word.

  “Exciting?” I asked.

  “Coffee. Black,” he repeated.

  Lucy shrugged. “I’ll bring them to you.”

  I saw Melbourne, the owner of Coffee Cove, smile and wave. I waved back. He called out to me from across the room.

  “Ava, can you let your Aunt Trixie know I’ve been a bit busy but I’ll call her tonight?”

  I nodded.

  “Thanks!”

  Detective Hudson and I took some seats.

  “So,” I said.

  “So.”

  We sat in awkward silence, waiting for our drinks.

  “When can my aunts reopen the bakery?”

  “When we determine precisely how Paisley was killed and why she was killed in The Mystic Cupcake.”

  “That could take forever! Eleanor and Trixie can’t afford to keep the bakery closed indefinitely.”

  “I spoke with Dr. Dunne this morning. He’s running some toxicology tests, and we should get results in the next few days.”

  “You mean he doesn’t know how she died yet?”

  I could tell that he was uncomfortable. “Not precisely. No.”

  “Coffee’s up,” Lucy said, smiling as she set down our drinks.

  “Thanks,” I told her. She winked at me and shot a quick glance to Detective Hudson before going back to the counter. I tried to think of some way to make small talk, but it seemed like no matter what I said, Detective Hudson was going to annoy me. Better to keep my mouth shut.

  The door chimed. I turned to see Damon walk in. He spotted me at the table with Detective Hudson and his face flushed.

  “Hi,” he said, coming up to me and kissing my cheek. Detective Hudson looked like he would have liked nothing better than to leave, but he stayed where he was.

  “What are you two doing here?” Damon asked.

  “Drinking coffee,” Detective Hudson snapped.

  I looked at him, surprised at his attitude. Then again, he wasn’t much of a people person.

  “I just wanted to get out of the house,” I told him.

  “You should have called me,” Damon said. “I’d have been happy to take you somewhere.”

  He was right. It hadn’t even crossed my mind to ask Damon if he wanted to join me. Why was that?

  “She didn’t need to call you,” Detective Hudson said. “I’m more than capable of protecting her.”

  “Yes, but you’re less than capable of carrying on a conversation. Ava likes to talk.” He put his arm around my shoulder.

  Whoa. What was happening here? They were acting like jealous lovers. I saw Lucy watching us out of the corner of my eye. I knew she couldn’t possibly have heard what was being said with the silencing enchantments around every table for privacy, but their expressions were enough.

  “Um, I think we’re gonna go,” I said to Detective Hudson, rising from the table.

  “Good, let’s move out,” the detective said.

  “I meant me and Damon,” I told him.

  He looked hard at me. “I’m not leaving your side. I’ve told you that. It’s my job.”

  “Is it your job to be a jerk?” Damon spat.

  “No, that job is already taken,” Detective Hudson said.

  Before I could stop Damon, his fist was flying through the air. Detective Hudson blinked and wiggled his nose. Damon fell backward.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, helping him up. “What the...” My voice trailed off as I took in Damon’s new appearance. Two giant antlers had sprouted from his head. “Oh, my roses.”

  I looked at Detective Hudson, who was smirking. Without even thinking about it, I picked my drink off the table and threw it in his face. Iced latte dripped down his chin and stained his shirt. I jumped back, shocked at what I’d just done.

  “Come on,” I said and tugged Damon’s arm. I was afraid he might not go, but as more and more people began to stare, his feet started moving. I shot one last look back at Detective Hudson. He was standing with chai latte dripping down his chin and a scowl that told me that for once, he didn’t want me anywhere near him.

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  CHAPTER

  SEVEN

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  “O ooh, I can’t believe that detective,” I said as I moved my hand over Damon’s antlers, trying to figure out a way to remove them without ripping his head apart.

  We had made it back to Damon’s apartment in record time, garnering several strange looks along the way. One tourist we’d passed by asked for a picture, thinking Damon was some sort of street performer. Damon had ripped the camera out of the man’s hand and thrown it at him. His temper seemed to be getting worse every day.

  “He’s as bad as the criminals he catches,” Damon said. “I think I’ll write to the Council on Magic and Human Affairs tonight. By morning, Detective Hudson will be gone.”

  I paused a half-second, biting my lower lip. “Do you really think they’ll call him back?”

  “Of course. Unjustified use of magic is completely prohibited. Especially on humans. He knows I’m not a wizard. Why wouldn’t they call him back?”

  “Well, it’s just that... I mean, you did sort of go after him first.” I gripped Damon’s right antler and yanked.

  “Ow!” Damon yelled.

  “Sorry.”

  I closed my eyes, trying to think. I’d read a spell somewhere that had to do with antler removal. I just couldn’t remember how it went. I was too worked up over everything that had happened. When I opened my eyes again, Damon was staring at me.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You don’t think Detective Hudson was justified in doing this to me? Do you?”

  “Of course not.”

  Damon nodded, satisfied.

  “I mean, you shouldn’t have tried to hit him, though.”

  Damon’s face turned three shades of red. He stood up.

  “You’re blaming me for this?” he snapped.

  “No. I just meant that you were acting like a jealous boyfriend.”

  “I’m not jealous.”

  “Good. You have no reason to be. Detective Hudson is only hanging around me because he has to. It’s his job.”

  “It’s his job to drink coffee with you?”

  “He was just trying to be nice.”

  I felt my brow scrunch and turned my head so Damon wouldn’t see my face. Why was I defending Detective Hudson? He’d been irritating me all afternoon. I didn’t like him any more than Damon did. Still... Damon’s attitude toward him felt personal, somehow. Like it was really me he was angry at. Like he was blaming all witches for the things that went wrong in his life instead of accepting responsibility for anything.

  Damon was pacing his living room. “I don’t like him.”

  “Do you ever like anyone?” I snapped.

  “I like you.”

  His blue eyes scanned my face, making me blush. His dark hair was almost to his shoulders now. He looked like a rock star. My heart stuttered and my anger vanished. I sighed. Why couldn’t Damon and I have a simple relationship? He liked me. I liked him. But would that e
ver be enough?

  “Come on, sit back down,” I said, pushing him into the chair. “I’ll call my aunt.” He sat as I dialed Eleanor, who tried not to laugh as I explained the situation. I jotted down her instructions, thanked her, and readied myself for a bit of magic. Damon shut his eyes like I was about to give him a shot.

  “It won’t hurt,” I said. “I don’t think.”

  “That’s what all witches say before you rub someone out.”

  I laughed. “Rub someone out? Been watching one too many mafia movies, have you?”

  “Just do it.”

  I held my hand palm down over Damon’s antlers and began moving it in a counter-clockwise circle.

  “Antlers reggio, antlers caggio, antlers leggio.” I wiggled my fingers at him and the antlers disappeared in a puff of smoke. Damon reached up and touched his head, feeling around.

  “They’re gone,” he said, smiling. He kissed me gently but I didn’t feel the same pucker of excitement that I normally did.

  “Told you I could do it.”

  “I never doubted it for a second.” He was grinning at me, but I found it irritating instead of enduring. He had doubted me every step of the way.

  I hesitated before asking my next question. “Are you still going to write to COMHA?”

  Damon’s lips turned down at the corners. “Not if you don’t want me to, I guess.”

  “I just think you’d both get in trouble. I mean, a human attacking a wizard. A wizard attacking a human. None of this can go well. Best just to drop it.”

  “If you say so.”

  We stood awkwardly together for a moment before I moved toward the door. “I should go.”

  “Wait,” Damon said, taking my hand and drawing me back.

  He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me close. His breath blew gently against my face as he held me to him and kissed me. My heart began to pound. When he finally pulled away, I was sorry. I wanted more of him. More hugging. More kissing. More of the tenderness he showed far too seldom. When Damon held me like this, it was the only time I felt like he didn’t care that I was a witch.

  “I’m sorry if I was short with you,” he said.

  “Me, too.”

  “I wanted to ask you a favor before you left.”

  “A favor?” I asked, lifting an eyebrow. He still had his arms wrapped around my waist and was caressing the small of my back, sending shivers up my spine. I wondered if this was his way of buttering me up. If it was, I didn’t care. More buttering, please.

  “It’s about my mom.”

  “Oh.” My cheeks colored slightly. We hadn’t discussed my fiasco of a Christmas present since I’d told him she was coming.

  “I talked to her on the phone.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes. I tried to convince her not to come.”

  “And?”

  “She’s coming anyway.”

  “Maybe it won’t be as bad as you think. It’s been years since your uncle’s death. Maybe she’s moved past it.”

  I hated to bring up his uncle’s death since that had been a constant sore point in our relationship, but it seemed necessary. His uncle, Jon Pratt, had killed my mother when I was just a baby. He’d tried to kill me, too. My father had killed him instead.

  After Jon’s death, Damon’s mother had moved them off the island. It was a sticky situation to maneuver in our relationship. Not that Damon blamed my father for killing Jon, but still... things couldn’t get much more complicated between us.

  Damon frowned. He finally let go of my waist.

  “So, what’s the favor?” I asked.

  “I want you to meet her at the ferry docks with me.”

  “You do?” I asked, kind of shocked. From the way Damon had been talking about her, I’d thought he’d want us to stay clear of each other.

  “Yeah. I thought that maybe if she met you, she’d see not all witches are bad.”

  I could tell from Damon’s expression that he was worried. “Of course, I’ll go with you. I’d love to meet your mom. In fact, I bet it goes better than you think. After all, you like it here in Heavenly Haven, right? I mean, now that some time has passed. I’m sure your mom will like it, too.”

  “Ava... I wouldn’t say I like it here.”

  My smile dropped away. “You... you don’t?”

  He sighed and shrugged. “Sometimes I do. Mostly I don’t.”

  “If you don’t like it here, then why do you stay?”

  “You’re here.”

  My heart gave out. I lost all the breath from my lungs and pulled Damon quickly into my arms, kissing him and refusing to let go.

  “That was the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me,” I told him as I finally came up for air.

  “Well, if it gets that kind of reaction out of you, I’ll have to start saying it more often.”

  His lips were like warm wine as he bent his head to mine again. I drank him up. My phone rang loudly, its jingle merry tone sounding shrill and pulling us out of the moment. I hoped it would stop but it just kept going.

  “You better get that,” Damon said, pulling away from me.

  “I guess.” I reached into my pocket and didn’t even look at the number as I held it to my ear. It was probably Aunt Eleanor wanting to make sure her spell had worked. “Hello?”

  A woman’s voice screeched into my eardrum. “You stay away from me.”

  “Um... I’m sorry? Who is this?”

  “Like you don’t know. This is Anastasia Peacock, and I want you to stay away from me. Do you understand? Stop your spying and leave me be. I haven’t seen Polly, and I don’t know where she is.”

  “Anastasia,” I said, more confused than irritated by her accusations. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I haven’t been spying on you.”

  “Just stay away from me or I’ll hex you like you’ve never been hexed before!” she snapped and hung up the phone. I stood staring at the receiver.

  “What was that about?” Damon asked.

  “I have no idea.”

  * * *

  CHAPTER

  EIGHT

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  Detective Hudson was sitting in his car, camped outside my house—correction, Eleanor and Trixie’s house. They’d told me repeatedly to think of it as my own, but with the bakery still closed, I was more than aware that they were the ones making the payments. Maybe there was something I could do to help.

  I barely noticed Detective Hudson as I made my way past him. It was amazing how quickly a person could get used to something—even when that “something” was an irritating detective who insisted on watching you like a hawk.

  I thought briefly about tapping on his window and telling him that his spell had backfired and Damon had been turned into a jelly bean or snap pea and accidentally gotten eaten. I wanted to teach him a lesson about picking on people, especially humans. I supposed the only reason I didn’t was because I knew what he would say—Damon had started it. And it was true.

  I tried to focus on something else. Anastasia’s phone call was on the top of my list. I replayed her words repeatedly in my head. “Stop spying on me,” she’d said. What made her think that someone was spying on her? And if it wasn’t me, then who was it?

  I hesitated at the front door to my house, trying to think. Detective Hudson was the last person I wanted to talk to right now, but he might be able to help. I walked toward his car. His chin was leaning against his chest. It looked like he’d fallen asleep. It was only late afternoon, but I knew he hadn’t been sleeping much, maybe not at all. That special peppy extract COMHA had issued him kept him wired all night, but then he was exhausted all day. He’d told us that he couldn’t take more than two doses in a row or it could have disastrous consequences.

  “The last time someone at COMHA used too much peppy extract... well, let’s just say that John McNarthy doesn’t just sleep with
the fishes, he is a fish.”

  Watching him sleep, it crossed my mind that maybe I was being too hard on Detective Hudson. After all, when I didn’t get any sleep, I turned into a loudmouthed grouch. Maybe he was the same way.

  He looked up when I tapped on his window, startled. I realized that he hadn’t been sleeping. He’d been playing with his Witchmobile phone. It looked like he was watching a YouTube video. He rolled the window down.

  “You’re back. About time. What can I do for you?”

  “Damon’s fine, thanks for asking,” I snapped.

  He just looked blankly at me. There was no apology for what he’d done to Damon. No question as to how Damon was even doing. For a second, I thought about forgetting the whole thing, but then Anastasia’s accusations came flashing forward once more.

  “Someone’s spying on Anastasia Peacock,” I said. “I just thought you should know.” I turned to go.

  “Ava,” Detective Hudson called.

  I stopped and took a deep breath before turning back.

  “Yes?”

  “How do you know someone’s spying on her?”

  “She told me.”

  He cocked an eyebrow in my direction.

  “She reamed me out on the phone like an hour ago. She thinks it’s me. That I’m the one spying on her. Even though I have no idea what she’s talking about.”

  “Did she say how she found out?”

  There was something in his question that made me pause. I searched his face, hoping his eyes might give something away. He had soulful eyes that I was pretty sure, under the right conditions, could give away a lot. But he’d trained himself to be better than that. My gaze fell back to the phone in his lap and my jaw dropped open. What I’d thought was a YouTube video was far from it. A woman with long blond hair, wearing a purple turban with a giant gemstone in the middle of it, stared back at me from the paused video.

  “It’s you?” I shouted. “You’re spying on Anastasia?”

  “Of course, I am.”

  Why did everything Detective Hudson say make me feel like an idiot? He had a way of speaking that made it seem as if all the answers to my questions should have been obvious. At least I didn’t have to ask him why he was spying on her. It had crossed my mind more than once that if Polly was in Sweetland Cove, she’d try to see her mom.