Witch You Well Read online

  CHAPTER 3

  Ten minutes later we waited outside the gazebo as Sheriff Tyler Gates inspected the crime scene. As I tried to digest Sebastien Plant's demise, I realized we still had to attend to our soon-to-arrive guests in addition to the recently departed one. I glanced down at my brand-new white linen dress, now stained with blood. I shuddered to think that I had been lying atop a corpse just minutes earlier.

  I walked over to the foot of the stairs and peered inside. Sheriff Gates walked around the body, deep in thought. I opened my mouth to speak but was interrupted by the sheriff.

  "You know him?" Tyler Gates knelt alongside Sebastien Plant's body.

  "Not personally. He's Sebastien Plant, one of our guests," I said. "Or rather, would have been. He was supposed to stay with us but hadn't checked in yet. He is—or was—the billionaire CEO of Travel Unraveled, the global travel empire. We invited him to our grand opening."

  I turned to face Mom and Aunt Pearl who had also inched closer to get a better look. Sebastien Plant lay on his back, his large belly pointed upward like a beached whale.

  Mom buried her face in her hands. "Everything's ruined. No one will ever visit our inn again. How can we possibly salvage our business?"

  "Relax," Pearl quickly averted her gaze from the body lying on the floor. "He probably had a heart attack. Just look at him. He obviously didn't take good care of himself."

  “With all that blood?” I shook my head. “That’s no heart attack.” Sebastien Plant was morbidly obese, but his bloodied head told me that he died from something other than poor lifestyle choices.

  "How can I possibly relax?" Mom's voice broke as she grabbed onto my arm for support. "That poor, poor man. I can't believe he lost his life in our garden."

  "We'll find out who killed him," Aunt Pearl said. “But you can just forget about these stupid tourism plans. Nobody will want to visit here now.”

  "We still don't know how he died." Aside from his bloodied head he had scratches on his arms and face. Judging by his injuries, he had sustained multiple hits and had tried to defend himself. I shuddered to think we had a killer in our midst.

  Sebastien Plant's death was very tragic. It was also very poorly timed for the Westwick Corners Inn grand opening. I took a few steps back from the gazebo. “Let’s give the sheriff some room.”

  "How will we keep the guests away from the gazebo?" Mom's eyes darted back and forth between me and the gazebo as she wrung her hands.

  "The sheriff must have a plan. I'm sure he's dealt with this sort of thing before." This sort of thing being a crime scene, I tried not to let my own worries show. Gaining and losing the attention of billionaire Sebastien Plant, the globe-trotting travel tycoon, all in the space of a week brought out a roller-coaster of emotions for me too.

  "Who's the killer?" Aunt Pearl's eyes narrowed. "Are there other victims?"

  Sheriff Gates shook his head as he emerged from the gazebo. “I haven't heard of any other deaths. We won’t know the official cause of death until the crime techs process the scene and the coroner does an autopsy. I’ve called in the Shady Creek police to assist me.”

  Shady Creek was about an hour away. It sprang up out of the foothills about twenty years ago and had grown rapidly since the highway was rerouted away from Westwick Corners. As Westwick Corners businesses dried up, we became increasingly reliant on Shady Creek for things like medical treatment, courts, and anything beyond basic police services.

  “Some expert you are. It’s obviously a murder." Aunt Pearl's voice was flat, like she had an inside scoop or something.

  The sheriff sighed. "I can't comment on the cause of death, but it certainly looks suspicious. Only the coroner can tell us what happened for certain though, so let's not jump to conclusions."

  While the sheriff consoled Mom, I stepped behind him and peered into the gazebo. Now that I was over my initial shock, I wanted a better look.

  Sebastien Plant's body lay like a surreal still life amongst the floral wedding decorations that twisted around with blooming clematis on the poles and railings. His bruised and bloodied head looked like he had been in an extremely bad bar fight. However he had died, it wasn't from natural causes.

  My mouth dropped open and a shiver ran down my spine. Aunt Pearl's wand rested atop Sebastien Plant's chest. She must have dropped and forgotten it with all the confusion. Yet I had never known Aunt Pearl to forget much of anything, especially not the wand that never strayed from her side.

  It didn't take a genius to see that Sebastien Plant's death resulted from blunt force trauma. Aunt Pearl's wand on his chest certainly looked suspect. Why hadn't she taken it?

  The evidence was incriminating, but explainable. Her wand had probably slipped from her hand when she tripped and fell. I couldn't remember her holding it when I arrived at the gazebo, though she must have had it. Everything happened so fast that it was a bit of a blur.

  I was more concerned that Aunt Pearl would take it upon herself to explain what it was, which was even worse. This new sheriff was oblivious to our supernatural tendencies. It was better for everyone if we kept things that way.

  I glanced over at Aunt Pearl who quickly averted her eyes. She seemed unconcerned that her wand rested on a dead man's chest. At any rate, it was too late to retrieve it. I looked back at the wand and noticed for the first time the wand's bloodied tip. The sheriff noticed it too, at the very moment I stepped past him.

  "Don't go any further," Sheriff Tyler Gates said. "We need to contain the crime scene."

  A square of white caught my eye. "What's that?" I pointed to the neatly folded paper that rested beside his body. I hadn't noticed it initially. "The killer left a note."

  The sheriff brushed past me and headed back into the gazebo. He knelt beside the body. He lifted the note with tweezers and carefully opened it.

  I followed, ascending the stairs slowly so I didn't draw his attention. I remained at the entrance and watched him carefully unfold the paper with the eraser end of a pencil. He took pains not to touch anything but the edges even though he wore gloves.

  "Maybe the killer meant only to scare him, not kill him." I stepped closer and crouched down beside the body for a closer look.

  "You shouldn't be doing that." The sheriff waved me away. "You'll contaminate the evidence."

  "I think I already have." I shuddered to think that I had been lying on top of our recently departed guest just minutes earlier.

  "Aren't you going to read the note?" I was dying to know what it said. I tilted my head sideways and silently mouthed the message.

  The block letters were printed with a fine black felt pen. The printing was neat and symmetrical, like a child's practiced penmanship. The message was as clear as the precise printing:

  Though you travel far and wide,

  You'd be best to run and hide,

  Your business was built on travel,

  But it is here that you become unravelled,

  You have no business staying here,

  Not to taste our food, nor drink our beer

  Leave Westwick Corners alone,

  And while you still can, go back home.

  Hands off our town and land

  If you do not,

  You will be caught

  And never ever walk this earth again.

  "A rhyme," Pearl shimmied in beside me. "A darn good one, too."

  Aunt Pearl rarely complimented anyone. While the tone was playful, the message was not. The poem verse was a direct threat to Sebastien Plant and his company, Travel Unraveled.

  "Why warn a victim who is already dead?" I couldn't think of any locals capable of murder, or for that matter, anyone outside of my immediate family who even knew about our VIP guests. "There are other ways to run people out of town."

  "So I've heard." Sheriff Gates stood and looked pointedly at Aunt Pearl who had stepped forward for a closer look. "You all have to back off. Outside the crime scene."

  "There's no yellow police tape," Aunt Pearl pointed
out.

  He sighed. "The whole gazebo is the crime scene. Now please leave before you contaminate the evidence." He carefully refolded the paper and placed it into a plastic bag.

  "But we were already in there." Aunt Pearl placed her hands on her hips. "You sure you know what you're doing, Sheriff?"

  I placed a hand on my aunt's shoulder and guided her to the stairs. I squeezed her shoulder as I whispered in her ear. “Would you please just stop? You’re making a terrible first impression.”

  “What difference does it make? He’ll be gone in a month. The tourists won’t be back either. At least some good will come of all this.” She muttered something else under her breath that I couldn’t hear.

  I followed Aunt Pearl down the stairs to the garden. "Killing guests is a pretty extreme measure to deter tourism, but Sebastien Plant is famous. It might even draw more tourists."

  "Don't be ridiculous." Aunt Pearl's eyes widened. "Nobody will want to come here anymore. It's dangerous."

  "Plant's murder will generate tons of publicity, Aunt Pearl. The gazebo could even end up being a shrine of sorts. Sebastien Plant is—or was—a celebrity. His die-hard fans might make a pilgrimage to his final resting place." Plant was hugely popular, with a syndicated television series, magazine, and videos. I didn’t believe it myself, but Aunt Pearl might. I was using some reverse psychology on her for a change.

  "The man's not even cold and you're already thinking of exploiting him to make money?" Aunt Pearl snorted. “You’ve got a cold, cold heart, Cendrine.”

  "Westwick Corners is no Graceland, but I can see how publicity from our VIP guest might be worth more dead than alive. One way or another, it puts Westwick Corners on the map." I turned to Aunt Pearl. "Didn't you forget your wand in the gazebo?"

  She frowned but didn't say anything. Her eyes met mine for a second before she turned away and pretended she didn't hear me.

  Sheriff Gates descended the stairs and joined us outside. "I don't want you discussing what you saw in there." He pointed to the gazebo. "Especially not the note or the murder weapon."

  The sheriff thought Aunt Pearl's wand was the murder weapon? This wasn't looking good. His handsome face betrayed no emotion, which I supposed was all part of the professional detachment of being a cop. I couldn’t help wondering if he already regretted coming to Westwick Corners. As the lone sheriff, he was going to be busy.

  "Maybe he got killed by accident," Aunt Pearl said. "That would explain the note. You don’t threaten someone in a note and then immediately kill them. That makes no sense."

  "Maybe the note was left as a warning to his wife," Mom said. "Tonya Plant is part of Travel Unraveled too. The killer wanted them both to leave."

  Sheriff Gates nodded. "The killer could be a local who doesn't want the Plants here. Speaking of which, where is his wife?"

  I shrugged. "No idea. We had no idea they had even arrived. They haven’t checked in yet." The official grand opening was today, with the first guests due to arrive around now.

  "Who would do such a thing?" Mom’s eyes widened as she noticed my bloodstained dress for the first time.

  "Most locals are on board with the tourism plans, but not everyone is. None of the locals are capable of murder though." I looked pointedly at my aunt, who ignored me.

  "People do extreme things when they feel threatened." Sheriff Gates stood and waved his hand in the direction of the Inn. "You should all go back inside. Don't leave the property though. I'll want to interview each of you as soon as I hand off the gazebo to the crime scene techs."

  "I still don't get it," Aunt Pearl said. "Why threaten Plant when he's already dead?"

  A chill ran down my spine. The wand, the note, and everything else pointed to my ornery aunt. If it were that obvious to me, it would be to the sheriff too.

  I made a mental note to ask Mom about Pearl's whereabouts prior to the gazebo. I knew she wasn't capable of murder, but she was certainly capable of trouble. She hadn't exactly made a good first impression with the sheriff, so the more we knew ahead of her interview with the sheriff, the better. The investigation could easily get steered in the wrong direction with one of her snide remarks. We needed a strategy.

  I followed behind Mom and Aunt Pearl. As we walked across the garden, I glanced toward the parking lot. Still no sign of the police reinforcements the sheriff had called from Shady Creek. By the time they arrived and processed the scene it would probably be after dinner. Since it was still only late afternoon, we had to formulate a plan to keep the crime scene under wraps and out of sight. We also had to keep our guests out of the garden.

  I turned to Mom. "The whole idea of a killer in our midst is really creepy. Why would anyone turn people away from our town?"

  Aunt Pearl coughed. "I've got to go." She broke away from us and walked briskly towards the Inn. She disappeared into the Inn's basement entrance.

  Mom's eyes widened and met mine. "I'd better follow her."

  I glanced back at the gazebo where Sheriff Gates stood, arms crossed. His head turned and followed her path across the garden. He frowned as she picked up speed.

  The fact that Aunt Pearl had left her wand behind troubled me. She didn't even seem to care about it, though she never went anywhere without it. She walked faster than I had ever seen anybody walk, a blatant use of magic if I ever saw it. She hardly seemed the frail elderly woman she pretended to be about town. It just spelled trouble.

  I checked my watch, surprised to see that over an hour had passed since I had arrived at the gazebo. Still no sign of Brayden. Either he had somehow heard about Plant's murder, or he had completely forgotten about our three p.m. rehearsal. Whatever the reason, my future husband couldn’t be bothered to show up for either our wedding rehearsal or to comfort me.

  CHAPTER 4

  "Wait—don't go yet." Sheriff Tyler Gates' deep voice cut through the silence.

  My heart stopped as I looked up and into his soft brown eyes. My pulse quickened and for a split second I forgot I was at a murder scene.

  I flushed as I felt his gaze on me. What was I thinking?

  I turned around and walked slowly back to the gazebo. I followed him inside.

  He pointed in the direction of Plant's body. "You've seen it before, haven't you?"

  My shock must have registered on my face. I nodded slowly, still not comprehending why Aunt Pearl's magic wand was in the gazebo in the first place. I knew she hadn’t forgotten it since she never let it out of her sight. I flashed back to her hasty exit. It was almost like she was running away from something.

  But that wasn’t what troubled me most. The top of the five-pointed filigree star was darkened with congealed blood. The sheriff shone his flashlight beam onto the wand, completely unnecessary since even the gazebo had no shadows in the bright afternoon sun.

  The bloodstains were clearly visible. "It belongs to Aunt Pearl." I glanced towards the Inn.

  "What is it? It looks like half a curtain rod or something."

  It was true that the star atop the wand resembled some of the fancier finials for sale at Walmart, but Aunt Pearl's wand was much more dangerous than a curtain rod. Even more so now, since it seemed to have been used in a murder.

  "It's her uh...cane." The star tips were sharply pointed, but not enough to inflict the sort of damage I saw before me. Aunt Pearl wasn't strong enough to commit such an act. At least not without magic.

  She was also afraid of blood.

  “I didn’t know she used one.”

  I opened my mouth but no words came out.

  There had to be a logical explanation, though Aunt Pearl herself defied logic. I needed to talk to her before the sheriff did. I know that sounds unethical, but we had to hide our magic at all costs or we’d soon see another sheriff quit our town. Something told me Aunt Pearl was about to cross a line that would change things forever.

  Our magic had to stay secret. It was essential for our continued coexistence in Westwick Corners. Aunt Pearl knew that of course, but she h
ad a tendency to act first and cover her tracks later.

  "She seems pretty agile,” he said. “She obviously doesn't need a cane."

  We both watched Aunt Pearl and Mom walk briskly towards the Inn's kitchen door and disappear inside.

  "Pearl moved pretty well under her own power on the highway this morning too." Tyler Gates frowned. "I had to sprint to catch up with her. I’d never believe she needed a cane."

  "She has occasional bouts of rheumatism."

  "Really?" His brown eyes studied me. "She looks pretty limber to me."

  I nodded. I hated to lie, but I had no choice until I found out exactly how my aunt’s wand had gone AWOL in the first place. She never let it out of her sight. Had she returned to the scene of the crime to retrieve it? That implied that she knew it was here. That didn't make her a murderer, but it didn't explain the blood on her wand either.

  I flashed back to the scene. Sebastien Plant's head and face had been covered in so much blood that it was difficult to determine the size of the wound. It was hard to imagine that my aunt's wand could do that much damage. I shuddered as I flashed back to his bloodied face. "I didn't think her wan—I mean cane—was sharp enough to draw blood, let alone kill someone."

  "You'd be surprised what people can do in the heat of the moment." The sheriff looked doubtful even as he said it.

  "Aunt Pearl is ornery, but she's not a murderer. You don't really think—"

  "Doesn't matter what I think. The coroner determines the cause of death. There's no point in speculating until we have her conclusion."

  "But there's a logical explanation for all this."

  He waved his arm in dismissal. "I've only got one question. Why was Pearl's cane on top of Sebastien Plant's body?"

  I frowned. "Aunt Pearl and I tripped over his body." My comment implied that she was holding her wand at the time we both fell, and I didn't try to correct it. I was almost certain she hadn't been holding her wand when we fell onto Plant's body. She would have poked me with it if she had. I didn't want to mislead a murder investigation, but I also wasn’t about to incriminate my aunt. "You can't possibly think Aunt Pearl had anything to do with this."