The Witch Weekly Part 3

Whether it was The Chiefs close proximity, the towering ma.s.s of his nicely formed, lean-yet-muscular frame, or the weight of his words, I fell speechless.

Luke cleared his throat. It wasnt technically a real date.

Excuse me? The Chief turned to him. What do you mean?

It says here well, she told me herself, that she was on an a.s.signment. Luke double checked his notes, tapped his pencil against the page, and then nodded. She said that she was working on an a.s.signment about love"

I interrupted him as fast as humanly possible. Not exactly, it was an article to save the newspaper.

About love, Luke said again. I wrote down exactly what you said, and you said you were trying to find love.

That was the shock talking, I said to the Chief, my ears burning. My article is about dating.

And you needed to go out on a date to get some research? The Chiefs eyes watched me carefully, a.s.sessing every breath.

I leaned into the Chiefs bulky frame, armed with my pointer finger. I tapped his chest twice, trying my best to ignore the slight sizzle that erupted when my finger brushed against the soft fabric of his t-shirt.

He must not have come from the office, I thought suddenly, because he wasnt dressed in his uniform. His long, lean legs were encased in gorgeously fitting jeans, while a maroon t-shirt thatd make girls drool stretched across his broad shoulders.

I went out on a date, I said. Is that a sin?

The Chief stepped back, raising a hand as if to visualize the headline of a newspaper. Love Turns Deadly. I worry about you, Rosie.

Stop arguing, the both of you, Jo said. I know you two have had this beef"whatever it is between you"going on for years. Whatever. We all know it wasnt Rosie. She didnt even know Hank until an hour ago, and she hadnt laid eyes on him until he was already dead. But I need you two to get along. Work together and get me out of these handcuffs!

Come here, Rosie, The Chief said, his voice surprisingly light.

After a brief hesitation, I sidled up next to him. He gestured for me to step outside, his fingers brushing against my lower back as I stepped through the front door. Apparently, his looks still drew a reaction from me, even if we couldnt agree on a single thing.

Im sorry about tonight, he said, once we were outside, his voice changing into a soft echo of his tough cop persona. You need to go home and rest, okay? I called Layla and Bel, and theyre coming to pick you up.

But my car is here. Really, Im fine. I can drive.

The Chief shook his head. Give me your keys. I rode here with Luke. Ill drive your car back and have him follow me home.

One of the other girls can take it, I said. I dont want to put you out.

I want you to get home safely, and I dont mind driving your car.

I could just leave it here over night.

The Chief sucked on his lip for a second. Im sorry, thats not going to work. Youre not allowed to park here overnight, so Id have to give you a ticket. Youve already had a bad enough night. Id hate to see it get worse.

Dont give me a ticket, then.

Let me take your car home. Its no big deal. The Chief reached out, clasping my hand in his. Relax, Rosie. Please, you have to let me help you. I want to help.

Something about his words worked wonders. Some of the tension in my shoulders started to seep away, and my fingers involuntarily relaxed. The Chief worked the keys from my fingers.

I released the keys finally, and we stood inches apart, our breath mixing in the cool night breeze.

What happened? he asked after a long silence. We used to be such good friends.

The closeness between us was both familiar and strange. I dont know, I whispered. Our jobs took us different ways, I suppose.

Its not about the job.

I shook my head. Nows not the time, Chief.

He reached out and tilted my chin upwards, studying my face carefully, his hands gentle against my skin. Im worried about you.

Thanks, I said, unable to pull my eyes away from his sparkling gaze. I appreciate that but, Im okay.

Are you really dating again?

Its not any of your business, I said as an automatic response. Immediately, I felt terrible. His expression turned crestfallen, and I backtracked as quickly as possible. Im sorry, I shouldnt have said that. Its just new to me, and Im nervous. Im sorry I snapped at you. Plus, theres the whole fact that my first date turned up Dead-On-Arrival, and thats definitely not a good omen.

How about you go on a date with me, and Ill try my best to make up for it? The Chief cleared his throat, his eyes filling with uncertainty. It can be casual.

Before I could answer, a car screeched into the parking lot, and I turned to find my best friends leaping out of the car even as Layla threw it into park.

Are you okay? Bel called out. We heard what happened. The Chief called.

Im fine, I said. Really.

Take her home, Chief said, raising up the keys. Ill bring her car back, since I wont let her drive right now.

Well, Layla said, climbing out of the car. That is one way to jump back into the dating world. Really puts a whole new spin on the saying knock em dead, now dont it?

Chapter 6.

An hour after the Chief had dismissed me from the crime scene, I sat at my kitchen table, wrapped in a blanket and freshly showered, surrounded by my best friends.

The three of us lived in a cul de sac"each of us had our own little cottage, but they were linked together by walkways. We had no other neighbors, so instead of the normal cement road in the middle of the street, wed planted gra.s.s and flowers and trees, and used the s.p.a.ce for a garden.

Needless to say, it was not uncommon to find one of us in anothers house at all hours of the day and night. Some people might say we lived too close for comfort, or were too deep into each others business, but I liked it. It was cozy, homey.

Our situation provided me with the perfect built-in social network. Due to my demanding job, I didnt get out a whole lot"hence the no dating in five years thing"but even so, I liked company. It was nice to have Layla or Bel drop by on a random Tuesday night for dinner. Even better if they stopped by for a gla.s.s of wine after a long day on Wednesday.

And on nights like tonight, when one of us was in trouble, it was nice not to be alone.

A sharp crackle in the air signified the arrival of a small, shrunken woman old as ash. She magically appeared in the same moment that the timer went off above the oven, signifying the brownies inside of it were done.

The old woman cackled, then took a sniff of the aroma, the smell of baking hanging sweet in the air. Wearing a black robe with bright, neon pink hair, she went by the name of Madrina. At least thats what we called her, since she was our real, live, fairy G.o.dmother.

Howdy, girls, Madrina said, still sniffing like a hound. Are those brownies I smell? Rosie, I hear you went off trying to get a date, and ended up killing the guy. Come on, dont you know Ive been angling for that new, flat screen TV?

Lately, Madrina had been pushing hard for one of us to get married. She claimed that in order to be promoted as a fairy G.o.dmother, she needed to get one of us to take the next life-step forward. Marriage counted as a life-step. However, since all three of us were still single and mingling"unsuccessfully, I might add"it didnt look like shed be getting the new TV anytime soon.

That is not true! I didnt even get a chance to talk to him before he was declared dead, I said. I didnt kill anyone.

Thats a record, schnook.u.ms. Madrina cracked her knuckles. Back in my day, I had been known to knock the socks off a man after some good kissing. Some called me the heart-stopper.

Ive never heard that, Bel murmured under her breath.

Oh, its true. Let me tell you about this one time. I dated a man named d.i.c.k Sorenson. Can you imagine? With a name like that, he had to be"

All three of us girls groaned, cutting her off in the middle of whatever she was about to say.

Cripes! I was young once too, you know, she said, pulling open the oven door and taking an even deeper inhalation. Im not all that far past my prime.

Madrinas prime had been several hundred years ago. Now she had more wrinkles than a T-shirt left crumpled at the bottom of the laundry bin. Things sagged on her that I didnt even know had the potential to sag. Like earlobes. And the tip of her nose.

I didnt kill anyone, I repeated. And neither did Jo, even though the police arrested her.

Jo? Madrina shook her head. That womans wine collection is something to die for, most certainly. Its been said that she could put a man into a coma with some of her concoctions. Of course, I cant confirm or deny whether magic is involved, but Im telling you something is up with Bubbles & Broomsticks. Theres no way a mere mortal"

I interrupted her, since I didnt want to get charged with any fines from the Council for talking about other folks magic. Stop!

When in safety of our own home, we can talk and speculate as much as we want, Madrina said. Yall know the rules. You made the rules. Anyway, did Jo do it?

No! All three of us chorused together.

Jo would never do anything like that, I finished. Nothing that would hurt another person.

Do you think it was an accident? Layla asked. I mean, things happen. Maybe she put some love potion into the wine gla.s.s, and he had an allergic reaction or something?

We wont know much for sure until we get the results back from the autopsy, I said. The way the cops are treating this case, it seems like they think its murder.

We cant do anything, Layla said. Plus, the Chief is working on it.

We cant wait a few days, I said. Jo needs our help.

Youre just feeling self-conscious that your first date in five years ended up dead. Layla shook her head. It wasnt your fault.

I shifted my weight from one side of the chair to the other. Im not blaming myself, I suppose, but its a little unnerving when I finally get back out into the romance game, and I dont even make it to the appetizers, let alone the first course.

Im not allowing you to investigate a murder, Madrina said, helping herself to half the pan of brownies. She scooped a huge hunk of the stuff onto her plate and pulled open the freezer in search of ice cream. Its dangerous, risky, and troublesome, and youll make my job much harder.

Go out on another date and let the police handle things, Layla said. You have to get back out there.

It just feels like its too soon, I said. Maybe the articles a bad idea.

Hank was dead before you got there, which means you really just stumbled across a crime scene, Layla said. Im just stating facts here. Even if you hadnt been on a date, youd probably have shown up anyway to get the scoop.

I pressed my lips together, nodding in agreement. If I had been at the office, I still wouldve heard word about Hank. Dead bodies didnt appear every day in Fairyvale, and word traveled fast.

Its not just about you, either, Bel pointed out. I agree with Layla that you should focus on your article. If you truly believe that you can help save the newspaper, you owe it to yourself to give it your best shot.

Fine, I said grudgingly. Ill set up a date for tomorrow night on one condition.

Whats that? Madrina asked, polishing off a hunk of brownie.

You guys have to keep your ears open for news of Hank. You dont have to ask any questions, just let me know if you hear anything, okay?

Layla bobbed her shoulders up and down. I suppose theres no harm in that. I wanna help Jo, too, and plus"I want to read this article on love. If that means Ill have to help solve a mystery, count me in.

Id do anything for Jo, Bel said. So long as its not illegal, Im in.

Why wait? Lets start at the beginning. Layla pushed her computer towards me, Hank the Handymans dating profile staring back. This is where it all started.

Chapter 7.

The next morning, I woke up, thoughts still swirling in my head about the previous evening. After Layla had pulled out her computer, Id stared at Hanks profile picture for hours, wondering who on earth had the desire to kill him. Those blue eyes and sandy brown hair gave off a pleasant vibe, and it was hard to imagine he had a lot of enemies.

Eventually, I scrolled past his face and onto the nitty gritty details. I couldnt discount the fact that maybe Hank wasnt as nice as his picture looked. Maybe behind those blue eyes there was a deep, dark secret that had gotten Hank killed.

There has to be a secret, right? If Hank was murdered, then that meant someone wanted him dead. If someone wanted him dead, there would be a reason. It was my job to find it.

After spending hours going around in circles, Bel, Layla, and I had landed on one conclusion. We needed to talk to someone who knew Hank personally. Someone who could give us a sense of what Hank had been like when he was alive: good guy, bad guy, happy guy, sad guy. That would give a feel for the sorts of people Hank hung out with, and in turn, if any of those friends wanted him quiet.

We bounced a few ideas back and forth, but in the end decided to start at the place where Hank spent the most time. Judging by his Facebook profile, that would be his job. Per the captions on his public profile pictures, Hank loved his job. Most of his photos featured a smiling Hank standing in front of some project that he likely just finished himself: a coffee table, a new deck patio, even a fence he put up for his neighbor.

I had squinted closer at one of the photos, recognizing the fence hed built for his neighbor. a.s.suming the fence b.u.t.ted up to Hanks property, then I knew exactly where Hank lived.

The house in question was in an average-looking suburb of Fairyvale. Since it wasnt technically considered part of town, the area didnt contain the amounts of beautiful streams, cobblestone paths, and blossoming trees as Fairyvale Proper, but it was a perfectly respectable neighborhood to raise a family away from the constant barrage of tourists.

I had also double checked his relationship status which, thankfully, said single. As it should be, since wed met on a dating site. However, I couldnt find any information about family. No siblings listed, no pictures with his parents, not even old photos of a girlfriend.

If I had to guess, he liked to work alone. There werent a bunch of friends hanging around the edges of his photos, and aside from a few birthday wishes from random folks a couple of months back, it didnt look like his profile page had seen a lot of action.

When we had finally broken up the Facebook viewing party and went to bed, it was late. Too late to do anything, so wed agreed to sleep on it and start in the morning.

I wasnt an early riser by nature, but the next morning I leapt out of bed like a crazy person by seven a.m. Before I even bothered to put on my normal jeans, tank top, and sweater, I dialed the phone number Id found for the construction company listed as Hanks place of employment.

Hi there, I said, adopting a nasally tone that sounded nothing like my normal voice. I was expecting Hank Sterner to show up this morning to work on my bathroom pipes, and hes running late for the appointment.