Midsummer Night's Mayhem (22 page)

She needed to get as far away from her as possible and call the police, but the two witches were in a standoff. Felicity had fooled everyone except Clover with her act, and they both knew that Clover wasn’t about to keep quiet about it.

“I’m stronger than you,” Felicity said. “I’ve been developing a new
persuasion
that even those runes of Tabitha’s can’t save you from.”

“What’s that?” Clover asked.

“Poison.” Felicity yanked the tiger’s eye amulet from around her neck. “Grady’s not the only one with something to hide,” she said.

Once the disguise charm had dissolved, her true nature was revealed. Her eyes were the violet color of poisonous monkshood. Her skin was a delicate pale green, covered in dark waxy green patches, and the soft area around her neck was covered in a series of thorns sprouting right out of her skin. The thorns reminded Clover of the vines she saw at the Winters’ farm.

“You poisoned their land, didn’t you? It wasn’t the backfire that destroyed their crops. It was you.” Clover had discovered another part of Felicity’s devious plan.

“Grady had been trying out new pesticides on his crops, and I just helped him along. He blamed himself, of course, and so did his wife. Talk about a couple turning on each other. Once the crops withered and died, they became positively desperate for land, playing right into my hand. Desperation is a perfect motive for murder, especially with Austin’s debt and desire to sell his father’s land. I knew that one of them would eventually be charged with the crime. And my plan worked.”

“That’s truly devious. They have no idea. They’re getting sicker by the day.”

“I’m surprised you figured it out, Clover. Don’t get me wrong. You’re a sweet witch, really you are. But I always pegged you as the dumb Mayhem sister.” She chuckled again, truly annoying Clover. “No offense, but you’re a simple little witch, aren’t you?” Felicity slid her wand from her sleeve and clutched it tightly in her hand.

Anger over the insult bristled on the back of her neck, the skin on her face warmed, and she had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop from physically throttling the pompous witch. Clover swallowed her emotion. Unfortunately, she’d talked herself into a corner. It wasn’t as if she planned to confront Felicity and accuse her of murder. To make matters worse, she hadn’t recovered her own wand, had no orbs, and her charm bracelet was charmless. The only magic she had was her own
persuasion
.

The thought flickered in her mind of what it meant to be a word witch. “Words are more powerful than you think,” she said aloud. “It took me a long time to understand that.” It took her an even longer time to learn to harness them and keep the stories she spun locked to the page and in the imagination of the reader. Learning to use the crystals to store and hold the scenes was an even greater challenge. When she was first creating stories, her words came to life in walking, talking illusions. Scenes popped right out of her head and into her living room.

Felicity wrinkled her brow. “I’m sorry it has to end this way. Truly I am. Do you have any last words before the end? A message for you sisters, perhaps?” She pointed her wand at Clover. “Don’t try anything. I know you don’t have any magic on you. Simple witch.”

“I don’t have any magic on me, and I don’t have any final last words. But I am wondering what Oliver would have to say to you if he were here.” Clover focused all her
persuasion
on envisioning Oliver Yearling walking up the path to his front door, his crestfallen face, the suit and tie he wore to the party, his illness-riddled body, his anger bubbling up out of his mouth, and the devastating betrayal ripping his heart apart.

Clover didn’t need paper and ink to conjure a scene to life. All she had to do was unlock it from her mind’s eye and set it free from the walls of her imagination and into the world like an actor walking onto a stage—or a porch, in this case.

“Felicity, I had no idea what a vicious witch you truly were.” Oliver’s voice trembled in his throat as he appeared. “I tasted it in the beer. The bitter brew you served me under the solstice moon. Poison is the choice of cowards. It suits you.” His eyes narrowed, and the muscle in his jaw clenched.

“Oliver,” Felicity gasped, but turned on Clover in an instant. “What is this? An illusion? You can’t fool me.” She cackled and tried to run her hand through Oliver and found his body very real and very solid. There was no telltale magical warmth, tingle, sparkle, or any other outward sign that he wasn’t flesh and blood. “What kind of spell is this?” She fumed and cast a few dissolving spells, but Clover’s illusion held.

Clover might have been a simple witch to those who didn’t know her true power, but she had a great imagination and years of practice creating seamless illusions with no telltale signs. Scene stealing was one of the prizes of her
persuasion
.

Felicity’s eyes widened in confusion and horror. “Oliver? Is that you? It can’t be. You’re dead.” She took a step back and bumped into the front door. She turned her back on him and faced Clover. “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I’m not buying this illusion. It’s a trick.”

Clover held out her hands. “I’ve got nothing—no wand or charms. I’ve not cast a spell. You’ve been with me the whole time.”

Oliver grabbed her and braced his hands on Felicity’s shoulders. Fear flashed in Felicity’s eyes as Oliver closed in on her.

“You took my home, my labyrinth, my magical joy. You stole it, corrupted it. You took my son and, worst of all, you took my final dying days from me. You robbed me of the final words I would say to my son, my family, and my community. You stole my goodbyes.”

Felicity trembled under his touch, her eyes brimming with tears. “I don’t believe you. This isn’t real. You aren’t real.” But the witch was starting to falter.

“You won’t get away with it. All of Everland is going to know that you were the love of my life and finally my murderess.”

“Never! You can’t hurt me.” Her skin glowed green and the thorns sprouted right out of her arms and neck, but her poison didn’t affect Oliver. In fact, Clover envisioned him restraining her so she could make her more.

While Oliver’s illusion distracted Felicity, Clover raced up the porch steps, snatching the wand right out of her hand. Next she fired off a series of binding spells to completely subdue her. Clover sprinted into the yard and sent a glowing red beacon up into the sky and waited for the sheriff to come. Felicity thrashed around on the porch, eyes wild. “You won’t get away with this. I’ll make you pay.”

“But we already have, my dear. And once the sheriff sees what you’ve done to yourself, this will all be over,” Oliver said and walked off his porch into his backyard and disappeared into his labyrinth, forever.

23

C
lover stepped off her porch into the warm summer sun. She could already tell it was going to be a hot one. A week had gone by since the incident with Felicity and much had happened. After days of questioning and a neutralizing spell bath, Felicity finally cracked, confessing to all of her crimes. Once the truth about Felicity was uncovered, Wilford Rutherford deemed Oliver’s last will invalid and used his previous will, which left his entire estate rightfully to his son. All charges against Austin were dropped and Felicity was charged with Oliver Yearling’s murder and the magical destruction of property she’d caused to the Winters’ farm.

Staring over at Oliver’s house had never made her happier. She waved at Austin who was up bright and early, directing a team of witches and wizards working hard to clean up the labyrinth and rid it of all illusions, spells, and especially black magic. Tabitha Rosewood and her team were also clearing the labyrinth of the poisonwood tree and any trace poison that was in the land. The theory was that once all the spellcraft and other dangers were removed, Austin could start over, building a brand new enchanted labyrinth. He vowed to continue his father’s tradition that brought joy, not fear, to the Meadowlands.

Derek had returned all of her Cassandra Reason materials to the office and they had a long talk about their future. Currently, her assistant stood on the porch with his tanned arms crossed over his T-shirt. “Are you sure about this?” he asked for the millionth time.

“I’m sure. Are you sure?” Clover asked.

His arms dropped to his sides, an invisible weight lifting from his shoulders. “Yep. It’s the right thing to do. We can’t live in fear any more. It’s time.”

In a puddle of sunlight, Rusty yapped in agreement from his curled-up position on the porch. Then he yawned and continued his napping.

“We’re all in agreement. It’s time for Cassandra Reason to come out of the closet for good.” Clover grinned like a giddy school witch.

The fight with Felicity had changed her mind—or at least given her a completely new perspective on how she was living her life. She’d never cared about what witches thought about her, until Felicity flat out told her she was the puttering, simple, and even
dumb
sister. That had done it.

A
persuasion
was a huge part of a witch’s life and personality. And even though Clover had taken her magic to the pinnacle of success, she’d done so by burying her identity in secrets and lies. She even had a fake, though gorgeous, face thanks to a magical potion Vivi had made for her. But enough was enough.

She realized that, as kind as many of her neighbors were, they really didn’t know her at all, and that was a deception in its own right. If she truly wanted to be a part of her community, she needed to start telling the truth, the whole truth, and deal with the consequences good and bad.

Sure, Clover would lose some of her privacy, but maybe that was a good thing. Derek was reluctant at first, but decided in the end that change was good and with Clover going public, she would actually need him more than ever. In fact, one of the changes was levitating up the pathway as they spoke—a gorgeous new desk Derek had ordered from Wildwoods Wands and Woodwork.

“I don’t know why we didn’t think of this sooner,” Clover said as a young delivery wizard guided the desk into the house.

“You never use the office on the first floor, so it’s a perfect place for my new workstation.” Derek’s face was glowing with excitement. “Now I’ll have a space for all our materials, so you’d better get writing so I can schedule you a book tour, signing, reading, maybe even start a book club.” Derek stood in the doorway. “Over there,” he said to the delivery wizard, directing the desk placement.

Clover cocked her eyebrow. “Slow down. We’ll have plenty of time for all that. But I’m glad you’re excited. You’ll need to finish up your community service before we schedule too many events. Have you decided what you’re going to do?”

Derek had been given probation and community service for the obstruction of justice charges. “Yep. I’m going to work with Rosemary’s Familiar Farm and Sanctuary.”

Now it was Clover’s time to beam. “That’s great. I love the sanctuary. It should be a lot of fun. I hear they got a new hawk from a witch who passed away suddenly. And you’ll see Oliver’s familiar, Cocoa.” Austin offered to take care of his father’s familiar, but the cat really didn’t like him. Plus, since Cocoa had been staying at Rosemary’s, she refused to leave the comfy cat tree nooks at the sanctuary.

The familiar farm was founded by and named after her great-great-grandmother Rosemary Mayhem. The farm took care of lost, abandoned, and needy familiars that had lost their owners and could no longer return to the wild. The farm was currently being run and maintained by a couple of young animal-loving wizards dedicated to their care and welfare. Many of them found new owners, but the sanctuary was a permanent home for dozens of familiars.

“Since I start next week, I want to get my new office up and running as soon as possible,” Derek said. A crash sounded from inside the house. “Sounds like I better go. Good luck today.” He raced inside.

Clover cringed but shook her head with a smile. Things were about to get a lot more interesting around her house. She took Marigold with her through the old oak portal, pedaled over to Main Street, and parked her bike outside of The Charmery. Juniper rented an apartment over the shop and Clover wanted her to be one of the first witches she told, and since she was in close proximity to Lavender’s shop, Clover could tell both of them at once.

The closed sign hung in the window, but Lavender waved her in. When Clover pushed open the door, the smell of shortcake made her mouth water. “Is this still The Charmery or have I stumbled into Nocturnes?” she asked.

Lavender and Juniper were stationed on stools, having a chat-fest while shoveling strawberry shortcake into their mouths.

“It’s still a charm shop, but that might have to change. The way these babies taste, I’m thinking of opening a shortcake shop, instead,” Lavender said with a blob of whipped cream on her chin.

After locking the door behind her, Clover pulled up a stool and dove into the piece of shortcake that Juniper passed her. A few days earlier, Clover had sent a note asking the two witches to meet with her that morning.

“How are things at the station?” Clover asked Juniper.

“Moving along well. We got the tests back from the healer’s ward and it turns out that the Winters were suffering from low levels of poisoning. It explains their irrational and strange behavior.”

Lavender smacked her lips and took a long pull on a bottle of homemade lemonade. “I don’t wish poisoning on anyone, but it’s a relief. The Winters were always so kind and friendly. I’m glad this helps to explain why they were acting so harshly towards everyone, especially you, Clover.”

“I agree, but they were brutal. It still stings,” Clover said.

“Grady will have to do some time for kidnapping Clover, but technically his wife didn’t break the law, so there are no consequences to being a nasty witch,” Juniper said.

“I received a letter from them the other day, wanting to apologize. They want to meet in person to explain what happened.” Clover took a bite of shortcake and swallowed. “I said yes, but only in the presence of the sheriff. I’m not ready to trust them yet. Poison or no poison.”

Juniper finished the rest of her lemonade. “I can tell you officially what happened. Felicity poisoned their crop with the help of good old Pete, who also pleaded guilty to pushing you into the labyrinth. He was working with Felicity the whole time and now occupies a cell down the hall from her.”

“Now that explains a lot,” Clover said, letting out a long exhale. “I’m just glad Felicity confessed to her crimes so there won’t be a trial.”

“She was a mess when they brought her in that night. She eventually confessed to everything, implicated Pete, and babbled on and on about seeing Oliver Yearling. She swore he was alive and spoke to her. Can you believe it?” Juniper shook her head. “The guilt must have gotten to her.”

“Well, that and she might have had a little help seeing her dead love,” Clover said. This was her cue to fill them in on her
persuasion
.

“What do you mean
help
?” Juniper asked.

Clover couldn’t hold it in any more. “Well, remember the illusions of the mischief makers and the fairy king and queen at my summer solstice party?”

Lavender smiled. “I sure do. They were great and so lifelike.”

“I created them and that’s not all I’ve been creating over the past years.” Clover shifted and let out a deep breath. “There’s something that I want to tell you both. I’ve been hiding a huge part of my life from the world and it’s time I came out and tell everyone.”

Concern welled in Lavender’s eyes. She grabbed Clover’s hand. “You can tell us anything. We’re here for you. You’re not sick like Oliver was, are you?”

“No, I’m fine. In fact I’m better than fine.”
Might as well blurt it out
, she thought. “I’m the word witch, Cassandra Reason. I write the
Spellbinder
series and have been keeping my
persuasion
a secret to almost everyone.” Her heart was hammering.

Juniper snorted, arms crossed over her chest, a smile forming on her lips.

“But I’ve been to her signings,” Lavender said, her face twisted in confusion.

Clover swallowed, her throat dry. “Vivi made me a potion to alter my appearance. It’s really me under the glamor.”

Clover filled them in on more of the details and Lavender’s mouth gaped in utter shock. A few tears of joy and shock sprang from her eyes, but she was mostly thrilled. Cassandra Reason was one of her favorite writers, and she couldn’t help but feel a little peeved that Clover had been a loyal customer for years and never told her. It was something Clover knew she’d have to face.

“I’m sorry. I really am. I just hope you’ll understand in time why I did it and why I’m telling everyone now. Oliver’s death forced Derek and me to do things we shouldn’t have done, and I don’t want us to be in the situation ever again.”

Juniper didn’t feel betrayed at all. In fact she was happy Clover finally came clean and admitted to the secret that Juniper knew she was keeping. In fact, she didn’t know what the big deal was, seeing as she wasn’t the bookworm type. “What are you going to do now?”

“Next, I’m going to tell Bear over at Goodspells and then I’ll let the news travel from there. I was thinking of doing an interview with
Witch World Daily
in a few days. I just hope Bear doesn’t kill me for not telling him sooner.” Clover hopped off her stool.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Juniper asked with a grin. “For protection.”

“No, I can handle it.”

“He’ll be fine. Bear isn’t the sentimental type like me. He’ll be very proud of you,” Lavender said and gave her a big hug.

“I hope so.”

Clover headed out into the warm summer morning. She had a few minutes to kill before Bear’s shop opened and sat on a bench.

That’s when she spotted Bradley Adams coming out of the tavern from his morning delivery run. They eyed each other warily until he started to walk her way. Her pulse jumped. The last time they spoke, Clover had gotten the impression he was angry with her and she’d been meaning to rectify that.

“Hello, Bradley.” Butterflies swarmed in her stomach.

“Hope you don’t mind my interrupting you. I’ve got a few things I wanted to get off my chest,” he said, shoving his hands into his pocket and rocking back on his heels.

“Sure. Why don’t you have a seat?” Clover patted the spot on the bench next to her. “What’s on your mind?”

He sunk down onto the bench. “I wanted to apologize about what happened with Belinda and the swarm of bees. I had no idea she would go that far.” He glanced sheepishly at her.

“Oh, that. It’s not your fault. Belinda was under the impression I was interested in you romantically. I didn’t realize you two were dating.”

“We’re not. That’s the problem,” Bradley said. “She wouldn’t take no for an answer, but after what she did with the bees, I told her we couldn’t be friends. She was really angry, but I had to cut off all contact with her.”

“That’s good…I mean for you…and well, she had a really bad temper.” Clover grinned in spite of herself. Excitement filled her. She was actually a little relieved. “I thought you were angry with me. I want you to know I didn’t try and turn the police against you. I was stuck in the middle of the murder investigation and was doing the best I could. Even when I saw the amber glass on my porch, I knew you could never practice black magic. I never suspected you.”

“I figured that out after Felicity was locked up and reports came out about what she’d done in
Witch World Daily
. She tried to frame me. You and the police didn’t know that. The past few weeks were a confusing time for me, especially with Gwen Winters reminding me about my sister’s troubles with the labyrinth. But she was playing me the whole time.”

“That must have been hard. Gwen was playing a lot of us. But I’m glad you understand.”

Bradley shifted his weight. “I have an embarrassing confession.”

“What’s that?” Clover asked.

“I have your scarf. The one you left at the bar. You dropped it and I picked it up. I wasn’t going to keep it. I swear. I thought I would send you a note and see if you wanted to get together sometime for coffee and then I could return it to you.”

“I see.” Her heart raced. “That’s okay.”

“So you don’t think I’m a creep?”

“No, not at all.” She smiled. Sweet and adorable, but definitely not a creep.

“Good. That’s a relief. So would you be interested in getting together sometime soon? We could go to dinner or have coffee or a beer.”

Clover’s face flushed. “Coffee sounds great. It’s a date.”

Bear unlocked the door to Goodspells Grimoire and waved at Clover. “I’ve got an important meeting with Bear. I’ll see you soon.” It was turning out to be an interesting day.

Clover ducked inside the warm and inviting bookshop, one of her sanctuaries from the world, and gave the affable bookstore owner a big hug.

“I’ve got something important to tell you. Something I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time.” She took a deep breath and steadied her nerves.

“I know, dear,” he said as a wide grin spread across his bearded face. “I was wondering when you were going to finally tell me about your amazing
persuasion
. I figured you would tell me when you were ready.” He ambled over and slid a Cassandra Reason book off the shelf and held it up with a wiggle. “Look familiar?”

Her eyes widened. “You’ve known all along.”

“Of course, sweet witch. My business is books. I know everything about them and I can always see the ending coming.” The kind demeanor of her good friend instantly settled her nerves.