Putting on the Witch (8 page)

My brain began going over Makaleigh's death as probably few witches here would. How many cases had I sat through, half asleep in many instances, listening as Joe droned on about what he'd done and why they couldn't find the killer they were looking for? I almost had the mind of a homicide detective after so many years.

I looked at Abdon. He was certainly powerful enough to kill Makaleigh, but then so were the other members of the council. Yet with all of them at half magic, which was placed on everyone in the castle including the Fullers, even Elsie and I could probably have killed her. That made it possible that anyone here could be guilty.

“Except the killer would be at half strength too,” Dorothy echoed my thoughts as I used her as my sounding board.

“That's true,” I had to agree. It wasn't going to be as easy to solve Makaleigh's murder as I thought.

“Since we are pretty sure we know why she was killed,” Elsie added, “all we have to do is figure out which of the
witches had the most to lose by her instituting the new plan to take away the penalties for non-witches finding out about magic.”

Dorothy laughed. “You wouldn't want to say that five times fast!”

Brian commended her. “You are on the ball, Red. Are you taking new vitamins or something?”

“It's love.” Elsie sniffed and put her handkerchief to her nose. “Something in here is making me allergic.” She sneezed a few times.

“Girls, we should get out of here.” Olivia's voice was like a tiny chirping sound when she spoke. What she said made sense, but it was harsh on my ears. “I'm kind of nervous being surrounded by a bunch of angry witches, not to mention all this talk about the witchfinder and all.”

Dorothy pointed out that we would be even more noticeable if we tried to leave. “We're squished in here like sardines. We can't even move without hitting someone. This is mob mentality. We have to be careful.”

Elsie, Brian and I quietly agreed.

“Just be patient,” I whispered, staring into the two dots that were her pretty gray eyes in the bracelet. “We'll get out of here soon.”

The two dots blinked—a little weird—and she started to say something else. Dorothy quickly put her hand across the metal, silencing her mother.

Abdon was holding out his hands for silence again. “My good friends, this is a terrible tragedy, but calling the witchfinder is no easy task, nor is it something we do lightly. We should explore all possibilities before that dread solution. Thanks to an immediate response by council member Erinna Coptus, no one has left or entered the castle since Makaleigh's death.”

That made everyone start talking again. The room buzzed with it, and the sound carried from the outer areas.
Not all the hundreds of witches present could fit in the pink sitting room.

“Are you saying that we're prisoners here, Abdon?” a stout witch with a pointed white beard asked in a tone of pompous disbelief.

“Calm yourself, Sir Hardsley,” Erinna said. “The spell only lasts for twenty-four hours. I'm sure that will be enough time to find Makaleigh's killer.”

“I suggest we all adjourn to the main hall again,” Abdon said. “We will quickly start conducting interviews of each and every witch present. The killer is still here in the castle. It won't take long to choose the guilty witch.”

His emphasis on the word “choose” made me nervous. Killers weren't chosen in my experience. They were carefully discovered by unraveling their actions and the facts of the case.

“Who's going to be responsible for that?” Owen Graybeard, another member of the council, asked. “You, Abdon?”

“I'm not sure,” Abdon admitted. “Perhaps the members of the Grand Council should sit together in judgment on this. That might be a better response than calling the witchfinder.”

With Makaleigh dead, there were only eleven members of the council. Most of the witches present were unhappy with that idea.

“What if one of the council killed Makaleigh?” an older witch demanded. Her very fine white hair was piled a foot high on her head.

“Do you have a better suggestion, Madam Ernst?” Larissa Lonescue haughtily demanded. She was another member of the council.

“Yes.” Madam Ernst was just as haughty. “It should be a combination of council members and non–council members. Just using council members isn't fair.”

“I agree,” Sarif Patel said. “Bring forward the witchfinder. He is impartial and won't stop until he finds the killer.”

“Oh my gosh!” Dorothy put a hand to her mouth. “I forgot all about your present, Brian. She can't just stay wrapped up that way.”

“Yeah. Sorry. I didn't think about her being alive.” Brian quickly followed her as Dorothy pushed her way out of the room. Loud grunting and a few curses followed them, but it was Brian, so no one dared say much about his departure.

Abdon stared at me and Elsie. He appeared to be trying to put something together, and I was pretty sure I wasn't going to like it. With the bracelet containing Olivia gone, I wasn't so worried about standing out in the crowd, even with him. I stared right back until I grabbed Elsie's arm and the two of us followed Brian and Dorothy through the crowd.

“What in the world was wrong with him?” Elsie asked. “I feel as though I've had the third degree, and he didn't even speak.”

“I don't know,” I muttered. “But we just needed to get out of that room. I'd rather not find out what he's thinking. I'm sure it has something to do with him ‘choosing' a murder suspect.”

We emerged through the throng of angry, depressed witches back into the nearly deserted ballroom. Dorothy was pulling Brian behind her as they approached the ceiling-high pile of gifts.

“She's right here. You don't have to worry. I mean, it's not like she's in a closed coffin or something. She'll be fine.”

Dorothy carefully picked through the gifts until she found what she was looking for. “Oh no! She got out.” She held up the empty pink cat carrier. “No telling where she is now.”

Brian started searching in earnest too. “Don't worry. She's just a cat. She was probably terrified and has hunched down in a corner around here somewhere.”

“You can tell he's never had a cat,” Elsie said. “That cat has probably been all over the castle a few times by now!”

“Oh, Brian.” Dorothy rested her head against his shoulder. “That poor little kitty. We have to find her.”

“I'm sure she's fine, honey,” Brian said. “She's locked in too. She's here.”

“Wait,” Elsie said. “Let's do a locator spell for her.”

“With the magic already diminished here, I don't think we can find her that way,” I said to Elsie. “We might just have to look for her the old-fashioned way.”

“So this is what it's like to have a cat.” Brian smiled at Dorothy. “Fun.”

“It's not always like this,” she told him. “Once you get to know each other, this won't happen. You'll have a rapport with her, and she won't run away.”

“Sounds like a wife.”

Dorothy frowned at him.

“Uh-oh,” Olivia whispered. “That look means trouble.”

“Just kidding.” Brian hugged Dorothy and took her hand. “Come on. Let's find the cat.”

She laughed and they sprinted toward the stairs.

“You know, I wonder why I was sneezing in the other room.” Elsie put away her handkerchief. “There are very few things that I'm allergic to.”

“It's a castle,” I said. “Lots of mold and mildew, even if it is maintained by magic.”

“That's true, I suppose. Although I've never been allergic to mold or mildew. I'm glad it's not that way out here. I could sneeze myself to death. A fine thing to do. Lock all of us up in here with a killer. Someone's brain wasn't working when that spell was cast.”

“What would you have done?” Erinna Coptus was standing behind us. Her long black hair was shining with blue highlights from the chandeliers.

“I would've called the police.” Elsie didn't back down.
“It's ridiculous keeping all of us here with no way of knowing who did it.”

Erinna smiled slightly, the barest upturn to the edges of her lips. “I have not lived in the human world for many years. What would these police do to find the killer?”

“You should talk to Molly.” Elsie nodded at me. “Her husband is a police homicide detective. He could take care of it for you.”

I was shaking my head and miming “no” as hard as I could once I understood the direction she was heading, but Elsie's words had come out anyway.

“And where is your husband, Molly?” Erinna asked.

“He doesn't have magic,” I told her quickly. “Naturally he couldn't be here because he doesn't know anything about magic or witches.”

“Naturally.” Erinna regally inclined her head. “But we could, of course, bring him here and then clear his mind of everything that happened while he was finding Makaleigh's killer. As you can see, our resources in this matter are not the best. I'm certain we could benefit from his experience.”

Elsie's expression froze as she realized what she'd done.

There were several problems with the suggestion, but I had to tread carefully. Erinna could simply decide to bring him here. She didn't need my permission. I'd worked too hard to protect him from having his memories—possible the memories of his whole life—stripped from him. I had to be careful how I declined her offer. Bringing Joe here could make the council realize that he was protected from them and they couldn't see or hear him and that he knew all about magic. I couldn't let that happen.

I nodded respectfully to Erinna. “That would have been such an honor. Alas! My husband has been ill recently, as non-witches sometimes are, and has lost many of his powers of deduction.” I laid it on thick and smooth as peanut butter
with a smile to sweeten the pot. “I'm afraid he is not the man he once was.”

Erinna actually lightly patted my shoulder. “Poor dear. Probably for the best anyway. Whoever killed Makaleigh might have killed your husband as well if he was here investigating, Molly. I suppose that means we shall have to find another way.”

“What about the witchfinder?” Elsie immediately jumped in to help me get Joe out of the conversation. “If he's so good at finding guilty witches, why not let him do it?”

Several witches had been standing around us in the ballroom, listening to our conversation. They echoed Elsie's words. Erinna shuddered and hurried away.

“I'm so sorry, Molly,” Elsie muttered when the council member was gone. “I don't know what I was thinking suggesting Joe's help. I guess I thought I was with normal witches who didn't want to rule the world.”

“It's all right. We got her mind off him. That's what matters. I don't think she likes the idea of the witchfinder.”

“I don't think anyone who knows who and what he is would, do you? It's still hard for me to believe he's real.”