A Witch Before Dying: A Wishcraft Mystery (24 page)

Yvonne looked over the railing and said, “That cat’s been hanging around here for weeks now.”

“Do you know whose it is?”

“A stray, I think. I’ve tried to lure it into the house, but it won’t come near me.”

As if to demonstrate the truth of Yvonne’s words, the cat darted under the deck.

I could probably get a trap for it. Or call Marcus, the Cat Whisperer. For now, I wanted to hear what Yvonne had to say about Jonathan. “What did Jonathan need?”

“He had a little rodent problem.”

“The rats?”

“He’d spent thousands trying to get rid of them. The village turned against him. It was ugly. Patrice agreed to grant his wish. They started dating after that, and she fell head over heels for him.”

“But?”

“He was a womanizer. Cheated with every pretty
thing that walked by until he met Zoey. She changed his life. But in the process…”

“He broke Patrice’s heart,” I supplied.

“She never really recovered. She started dating Andreus. At first to make Jonathan jealous, then because she knew the power she had over Andreus. As long as she had the Anicula, he wouldn’t leave her.”

“Do you think he knew she was using him?”

“I believe so. He allowed it because he was using her, too. He wanted that amulet back. It is rightfully his, after all.”

I took a deep breath and asked, “Do you think he would kill to get it?”

She was quiet for a moment. “I don’t think so. Under all that creepiness, I think he’s a nice guy.”

“Let me ask you this, then. If he got the Anicula back, what do you think he’d do with it? Do you think he’d return it to its proper burial place? Or do you think he’d hold on to its power?”

She swatted at a gnat. “The power to grant wishes is incredibly heady, and I can’t see him letting that go.”

It was the way I was leaning, too.

I studied her. “Well, I’m glad things worked out for Elodie and Connor. They’re still together and seem very much in love.”

Looking like a proud mama, she nodded. “They’re very happy together.”

Biting my lip, I suddenly wondered if they were that way because of destiny…or because Yvonne had killed Patrice, stolen the Anicula, and finally granted her wish.

“T
ragedy!” Pepe declared the next morning, fully distraught, as he hopped off Archie’s feathered back and onto the kitchen island. Pepe paced, his tail slashing out, his little mouse whiskers twitching in agitation.

Even his dramatics couldn’t suppress my yawn as I set another pot of coffee to brew. It had been a long night. Most of it sleepless, as I’d tossed and turned on Harper’s apartment floor, nose to nose with Tilda, who hadn’t been pleased to be displaced from her usual bed.

I’d woken up early, packed everything up, brought Mimi to Nick’s place, and was now back home with a still-ailing Ve at As You Wish. With my grumpy mood, I
dared
anyone to break in.

It was close to noon, and Pepe and Archie had just arrived. Starla was already sitting at the island, nibbling on scones I’d bought at the Witch’s Brew.

“
Quell horror!
” Pepe cried, throwing tiny fists into the air and shaking them.

I decided he’d been hanging out with Archie too much.

Starla said, “What happened, Pepe?”

As I set out the biggest mug I could find, I gave him a closer inspection. He wasn’t simply being dramatic—he was beside himself, trembling with outrage.

Archie
tsk
ed. “’Tis not good.”

“I don’t know how to tell her.” Pepe paced.

“Tell me what?” I asked.

“Not you,” Archie clarified.

“Me?” Starla asked, hand to chest.

“No.” Pepe shook his head so hard his ears quivered. “Velma.”

“Ve?” She was no better this morning, and the virus was taking its toll. She’d barely had enough energy to walk home from Harper’s this morning. Casting that protection spell last night had taken a couple of hours and zapped what was left of her energy. She hadn’t arrived back at Harper’s until after three a.m.—long after I’d returned from Patrice’s. I’d stayed awake, listening for her to come back like she was a teenager out past curfew.

Now I looked around the kitchen for evidence of the spell but saw nothing out of the ordinary except for the agate ball and leftover sage in a basket on the kitchen counter as if they were commonplace objects found in a kitchen, like a basket of fruit. A strong hint of sage lingered in the air, and it filled me with confidence that we were safe within these walls.

Pepe said, “It’s missing.”

“What’s missing?” I asked. The coffeepot hissed and spat. I was on my second pot and hadn’t felt the least bit of a boost from the caffeine.

Pepe took a deep breath. “Her dress.”

Lifting the carafe, I poured coffee into my mug—as close to the rim as I could get without spilling. “What dress?”

When he said nothing, Starla and I looked at him. Then at Archie, who wouldn’t meet my eye, then at Pepe again. I carefully set my mug on the counter.

“Her
wedding
dress?” Starla gasped.

“
Oui
,” Pepe said in a tiny voice. “When I went to
sleep, it hung in the workroom. When I woke up, it was gone. Vanished.”

Archie used the tip of his wing to pat the mouse’s back. “It will be found; do not worry.”

“I am magical, yes,” Pepe said with a nod, “but even I cannot make the dress reappear. Or make a new one in three days’ time. Her beading—it is exceptionally intricate.”

My heart pounded. “Someone stole Ve’s dress?”

“I assume,” Pepe said. “But there is no sign of a break-in. It’s as if the gown simply disappeared.”

Gowns didn’t just disappear unless magic was involved. Which most likely meant a Crafter was involved. And I could think of only one Crafter who didn’t want Ve to get married on Sunday.

Dorothy.

I lifted my mug.
Scratch that thought
. I could think of several Crafters who didn’t want Ve to get married on Sunday. Like me, Harper, and Godfrey. But none of us would go to the lengths of stealing Ve’s dress to keep it from happening.

Dorothy, however, had a mean streak, and I could see her sneaking off with Ve’s dress, no problem.

“Maybe it was the Peeper,” Starla said. “The rash of break-ins last night was all the talk in the village this morning.”

“Why would the Peeper want Ve’s dress?” I asked. The Peeper, clearly, was after the Anicula.

“The
Peeper
,” Archie said, making a noise of disgust. “I am sick of him.”

I was growing weary of him as well.

“If only we could catch him.” Pepe balled his fist and made a punching motion.

Smiling behind my mug, I said, “It might be easier to catch him if we had any idea at all who it is.” All I knew was that it wasn’t Vince Paxton. I’d forgotten to tell
Mrs. P that I’d ruled him out, and she’d continued staking him out last night, using her Vaporcrafting skills to keep an eye on him at his place. He’d gone to bed a little after eleven and stayed there until early this morning.

I silently sent him another apology. And Mrs. P, too, for wasting her time, though she hadn’t seemed to mind the stake-out at all.

“What about Andreus Woodshall?” Archie asked. “Does he have an alibi for last night?”

“I don’t know.” I picked a blueberry off a scone and ate it. “He’s an obvious suspect, but I don’t think it was him. He told me that a spell had been placed on the Keatons’ house that kept him out of it. The Peeper went inside last night.”

Pepe said, “He has a son, does he not?”

My gaze slid to Starla. Her cheeks colored. “I, ah, can vouch for his whereabouts,” she said.

Archie cooed, “Ooh la la.”

“Don’t make me pluck you,” she warned.

His beak snapped closed.

We were back to having no idea who the Peeper was.

Pepe wrung his hands. He glanced at the stairs. “I may as well get this over with. I must tell Ve about her dress before my whiskers fall out from the stress.”

“Actually, now’s not a good time. She’s upstairs with Cherise Goodwin.” Thankfully, Cherise had agreed to an emergency house call. “Hopefully, another spell is the key to a full recovery in time for the wedding.”

Pepe moaned. “Do not remind me about the wedding. How am I going to tell Ve about her dress?”

Coffee scorched the back of my throat. “You aren’t.” All three stared at me. “You won’t need to. We’re going to find that dress.”

“How?” Archie asked.

Pepe’s eyes widened as if seeing me for the first time in a new light. “I can
wish
for it. Brilliant idea!”

I laughed. “I’d been thinking more along the lines of practicing some private investigation skills.” Which would mostly consist of me snooping around Dorothy’s house to see if there was a wayward wedding dress lying around.

“Wishing would be faster,
non
?” Pepe’s eyes were wide, pleading.

“Definitely,” Starla said.

“But remember,” I cautioned, “all wishes by Crafters must now be approved first by the Elder.” She apparently had some sort of magical inbox and knew when wishes were being made. “If the wish isn’t granted immediately, you must go to the Elder and explain the wish you made. She will then decide to grant or deny it.”

Pepe nodded solemnly, then said, “I wish to…”

My nerves tingled. The word “wish” always did that to me. Starla, too, if her fidgeting was any indication. “You take this one,” she said to me. She hopped off her stool and grabbed her camera, which hung in the mudroom. She came back, grabbed a scone from the plate, and said, “I’ve got to get back to work.” Sending air kisses, she waved and ducked out the back door.

Pepe still hadn’t finished his wish.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I am not certain what to wish. To find the dress or to have it back.”

“A bird in hand, my little friend,” Archie said wisely.

Pepe nodded. “I wish to have Ve’s dress returned to the boutique immediately.”

I said, “Wish I might, wish I may, grant this wish without delay.” After a second, I said, “Shall I call Godfrey and see if it’s there?”

Pepe nodded.

I picked up the phone and dialed. Godfrey answered on the second ring.

“I about had myself a heart attack,” he said. “I was sitting here putting the final touches on your dress, and
suddenly a wedding gown appears next to me. A little warning next time, Darcy.”

I smiled and gave Pepe the thumbs-up. “Absolutely.”

I hung up with Godfrey and said, “He might need a cardiac checkup, but he says the dress is back in the shop.”

Pepe wiped his paw across his brow. “
Merci
, Darcy.
Merci
.”

I kissed the top of his head. “You’re very welcome.”

Archie cleared his throat. “Speaking of the Elder…”

I didn’t like his tone. It was the one he used when acting as the Elder’s majordomo. “Go on.”

“She requests your presence today at one p.m.”

I swallowed hard. “I haven’t done anything wrong, have I?” I couldn’t think of anything.

“I am just the messenger,” he said. “Pepe, we should be off. It’s almost time for our patrol.” Archie sighed. “The Elder is quite displeased that none of the patrols spotted the Peeper sneaking through the village last night on a crime spree. It is quite the embarrassment.”

I saw the two of them off, then grabbed my coffee and sat on the sofa with my notebook. Staring at the page I’d started yesterday, I frowned. I certainly had more information, but I was really no closer to knowing who would kill her.

I reexamined what I’d written.

Who was Patrice?

Why would someone want to kill her?

•  
The Anicula’s powers (Mr. Macabre)

•  
Greed

•  
Love (Jonathan??? Mr. Macabre?)

•  
Jealousy (Roger, Yvonne)

Certain things I could answer. Patrice was a loving mother. I suspected her hoarding stemmed from when she “suddenly” fell in love with Geer, leaving Roger. Not
of her own free will. Maybe the magic hadn’t been strong enough to keep her from realizing she had lost something, even if she couldn’t quite remember what. Maybe she held on to things, objects, to try to fill that void.

It was really quite sad to think about.

I jotted a quick note to myself: F
ind out why Patrice and Elodie have stopped talking.

As to why someone would want to kill Patrice, I still didn’t know. I’d narrowed it down to jealousy or the Anicula.

On a crisp new page in the notebook, I wrote:
Jealousy: Roger, Yvonne.

Roger was jealous of Andreus and Jonathan. Roger hated that Jonathan had used Patrice and that he’d left her brokenhearted. He hated, simply, that Patrice had loved Jonathan at all—and not him. Could he have killed Patrice because he hated seeing her with other men?

Yvonne was jealous of Patrice—that Roger still loved her. She was jealous that Patrice could grant any wish at any time…and angry because Patrice refused to grant her wish. Could her emotions have pushed her over the edge?

Next, I thought about the Anicula and who was desperate for its powers. I wrote:
The Anicula—Andreus, Lazarus, Yvonne, Roger, Elodie, Jonathan?

Andreus and Lazarus had family ties to the Anicula. Yvonne was controlling, and would probably want nothing more than to have the power to control Connor’s future—and to guarantee her own.

I crossed Roger off my Anicula list. After all, if he still loved Patrice, he wouldn’t kill her for the Anicula—he might use it to wish that she loved him again, but he wouldn’t harm her.

Elodie had to be considered as well. If Andreus was to be believed (and why would he fib about it?), she had lied to me about the Anicula. I had to find out why—and
if the reason behind it had anything to do with her mother’s death.

I’d thrown Jonathan on the list, too, for one reason only. He’d used Patrice for a wish before—what if he asked for another after they broke up and she refused? Would he kill her to get the Anicula for himself? I bet he wished he had it right now, what with the food poisonings tied to his restaurant.