A Murder Most Rosy: Supernatural Witch Cozy Mystery (Harper “Foxxy” Beck Series Book 3) (11 page)

The side door flew off its hinges, crashing to the floor much like Norbert had. Rushing in like a man possessed, Wyatt looked around for me. He raced up the stairs before I could warn him, but the sludge didn’t bother him. He was an athlete, unlike me.

Unlike Norbert.

The next thing I knew, he was kneeling next to me. I knew he saw Norbert— his cop eyes wouldn’t have missed that. But I was infinitely glad he hadn’t mentioned it. I’d wanted to put an end to all of this, had even thought about killing him, but knowing that I actually had…

“Is it broken?” he asked softly, looking at my collarbone, but thankfully not touching it.

“Very. At least we get to go see our friends at the hospital.”

“Maybe we see them a little too much,” he said lightly.

He pulled me gently to my feet, supporting a lot of my weight, so I didn’t have to move more than necessary. When he tried to direct me toward the stairs, I shook my head.

Kara was right where we’d left her. Without Norbert to give her directions, she just stood there, suffering silently. Her eyes were wide when they looked at me, but they didn’t truly see anything. She was just as dead as her master.

The last thing I wanted to do was put my hands on her, but I couldn’t feel the magic that kept her upright as well if I wasn’t close. Besides, I told myself, she wasn’t a monster. She didn’t choose this. She was a victim.

When I placed my hands on her shoulders, I could see the knot Grandma had been talking about. It was like a myriad of gossamer threads were looped around every part of her body, making her look almost luminous.

With dread, I thought that this would take forever, but as soon as I started, the threads fell away like leaves off a tree in fall. She stood a second longer, not fighting, not doing anything, because there was no one around to tell her to. When the last thread hit the floor and disappeared, so did she.

“I’m just gonna leave that out of the official report,” Wyatt said, helping me down the stairs and out to the car.

“Probably a good idea. Even in Waresville.”

Cooper was waiting for us in the back seat, peering curiously over the upholstery. When he saw us coming, he ducked his head down fast, leading me to believe that Wyatt had told him to stay hidden.

Wyatt shot me a wry glance. “He used to be a lot better with directions.”

“Glad I could contribute something to his upbringing.”

Stopping us short of the car, he gazed at me seriously. “You contribute a whole lot. Don’t belittle that.”

They kept me overnight for observation. I was pretty sure that wasn’t the standard procedure for a broken bone, and I was more than sure that Wyatt had something to do with it. No complaints fell from my lips, though, because they gave me the good drugs.

It wasn’t until the morning after, when we were driving away from my clinical home away from home, that I realized Cooper wasn’t with us.

“Did we leave Cooper at that abandoned factory yesterday?”

Wyatt’s lip twitched. “Still feeling the drugs?”

“My tongue’s itchy.”

“He spent the night with my mom— after going out to the movies with that Anna girl. She heard about his kidnapping.”

I slapped my hand on the dash, grinning. “He got the girl! Reeled her right in with that old ‘almost died’ routine. Gets ‘em every time.”

Contenting myself to stare out the window at the clouds, I noticed that we’d missed the turn off for the Victorian. “Lost?”

“We’re headed to your grandma’s— Mom’ll drop off Cooper there. I promised her I’d finish mowing.”

Just like that, the lovely haze I’d been stumbling through for the last twenty-four hours faded, leaving me cranky and apprehensive.

By the time we pulled up to Grandma’s house, Cooper was waiting on the porch for us, sitting next to the head witch herself. He waved enthusiastically, a big grin on his face.

Sprinting down the drive, he was at my door before I’d even had the chance to open it. “Miss Julia’s teaching me about curses.”

I searched his eyes for any sign of distress, but he seemed happy enough. Kids were tough and adjusted well. Still, it probably hadn’t hit him yet. Confronting your own mortality can be hard— but I’d been getting loads of practice with it.

While Grandma watched us mortals from her perch, Wyatt went to get the lawn mower, and Cooper and I dragged out a couple of lawn chairs.

The sun was beating down, just like it had yesterday, but today, it felt right. When the storm passes, it
should
be sunny. I plopped down on the chair, rolling up my sleeves and my pants in the hope I could catch a little skin cancer while Wyatt worked.

What a picture we made. Grandma was sulking in the shade, staring at Cooper with a grumpy intensity that I could only assume wasn't good for his health. I hoped he hadn't been sassing her— I'd never hear the end of that. She raked her fingernails over her infamous red robe, seemingly deep in thought. Or maybe she was silently cursing us all for coming over uninvited.

Wyatt was sweating away, pushing an antique lawn mower that was probably as heavy as most cars. Tucking my chin, I eyed his muscles through the damp material of his shirt. He was a looker, all right. Maybe I'd keep him.

And then there was Cooper and I: Two prima donnas getting their daily dose of vitamin D. My pale skin sizzled under the sun's tender rays. We'd both be lobsters tomorrow, but it was worth it because of the annoyed glances Wyatt kept shooting me.

"You could help, you know," he said. "She's got more than one mower— for some reason."

I pointed to my sling-covered arm. "I'm so faint and weak. Make the boy do something. Children shouldn't be idle."

Something passed in front of my chair, blocking the sunlight. I opened my eyes to rib Wyatt about being in my way and almost choked on my own tongue when Gran’s face was only a foot or so from mine. Scrambling into a seated position, I shot Wyatt a glare at his chuckle.

Her eyes narrowed at me. “You’re right; children shouldn’t be idle.”

“Twenty-seven years old, injured, and I’ve earned my rest.”

She tossed a pair of burlap bags in my lap, and I almost jumped out of my skin in my effort to get away from them. Springing away from my chair, I brushed myself off vigorously.

“If you wanted me to mow your lawn that badly, you could’ve just asked.”

She snorted, picking up the bags and reaching out to give them to me. “No need for your dramatics. The spell on them is broken.”

Gingerly taking them from her outstretched hand, I made a face. “Why can’t you just keep them, then?”

An unfathomable look. “A witch needs to keep all parts of her close by.”

“Guess I should call up my hair place to tell them I’ll be needing about a decade’s worth of clippings back.”

She turned her attention to Wyatt, who was passing close by us. “Women weren’t so mouthy in my day. I don’t know how you put up with it.”

“But now we’ve discovered fire, Gran,” I said. “And equality.”

“There is no equality. Men continue to believe they rule the world, and women continue to let them think that.”

A police car pulled up, interrupting our cozy family moment— or as cozy as it gets with Gran around. My lips curled back in a snarl when Kosher got out of the car, and I stomped over to Wyatt.

“What’s he doing here?”

He didn’t stop pushing the machine. “Be nice, Harper.”

Kosher didn’t keep us in suspense long, walking right up to Wyatt and me after bidding my grandmother a polite hello. It did my heart good to see her give him her coldest, most indifferent stare.

Handing a manila envelope to Wyatt, he said, “Copy of the official report. Figured you’d want it as soon as possible.” He then turned to me. “Did you push him?”

His bluntness took me by surprise, and my stomach rebelled at the picture his words brought up. “No, he fell.”

“Which was in my report,” Wyatt said, annoyed.

Kosher raised a bushy eyebrow. “Because you didn’t leave a single detail out.”

What do you know; the cop was capable of sarcasm.

“Kara’s kids want to send you thank you notes— for the directing thing, you know,” he said, looking very uncomfortable.

“Just send them to my new address.” I looped my good arm around Wyatt’s waist, pinching his butt just because I could. “His.”

Kosher looked to Wyatt for conformation, like he couldn’t quite believe it. Which, frankly, was insulting. I was a catch, for crying out loud.

Smiling like a sage with endless patience, Wyatt nodded. Copying my move, his arm wrapped around me, getting me all sweaty. I found that I didn’t mind in the least.

“You’re an idiot,” Kosher said.

I waved and made faces at him as he drove away— all where Wyatt could see. Kosher mouthed some very unflattering things and gave me the one fingered salute. I considered doing double what he did, but I remembered Cooper was right there.

Next time.

Wyatt drew me closer, and I breathed in his minty scent. The man didn’t even smell bad while doing manual labor. That’d certainly make living together easier.

His smile stole the air from my lungs. I went in to kiss him, but he pulled back, not making it that easy for me.

A single eyebrow went up. “Moving in, are you?”

“I’m taking pity. So you can stop begging and pleading at my feet−“

He kissed me then, his mouth soft on mine. Cooper made “yuck” noises in the background, while Grandma tried to shush him. In Waresville, this was about as picturesque as it got.

Authors Note

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Harper "Foxxy" Beck Series

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A Murder Most Rosy
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