Gone With the Witch (13 page)

I slid him a smile. “Feel free to take your time.”

“I'll be slower than molasses.” He motioned to my hair. “So, new hairstyle?”

“Kind of. It's from a spell that makes Wishcrafters
visible in photographs. Ve commissioned the spell and there are some kinks to work out still. I'm surprised you're not striped, considering that the press hasn't left the Wisp.”

“I dodged them, going in and out the rear doors.”

“Smart, otherwise you'd look like Pepe Le Pew.”

Shaking his head, he smiled and said, “You had quite the day yesterday.”

I hadn't even told him about the bombshell the Elder had dropped. I didn't want to get into another guessing match right now. I'd had enough of that with Mimi and Harper last night. “Just another day in this crazy life of mine. Today's shaping up to be another doozy.”

He studied me with those dark eyes of his. “I don't like missing any part of your days. I don't like not kissing you good night or good morning, either, for that matter.”

I knew the feeling. “And I'm not fond of missing yours.”

Were we
finally
going to talk about moving in together? It should have been such an easy conversation, because I
wanted
to live with him. Truly.

My only hesitation was that I wasn't sure I wanted to do it at
his
house, which he didn't want to leave.

The problem was I'd fallen head over heels for my new house, as dilapidated as it might be at the moment. Yes, renovations had only started two weeks ago, but with every change made it felt more and more like home. And the funny thing was, those changes felt that way because Nick and Mimi were helping me make the decisions. They were leaving their stamp on that house as much as I was. It felt like home because they had made it feel that way.

They
were my home.

It was such a huge realization that I almost gasped.

The simple truth was I'd rather live with Nick and
Mimi in his house than without them in mine. I'd use my house as the As You Wish offices, and that was that.

Decision made.

Except for one small detail: Nick hadn't actually asked me to move in with him.

Smiling at my innate ability to solve a problem that I had created only in my own mind, I gave the swing another push and hoped he'd finally bring up the topic.

“We should do something about that. About missing each other,” he said.

Suddenly nervous, I wiped damp palms on my shorts and ventured, “We should.”

“It would be easier to do that if—”

His phone buzzed, cutting him off. He pulled his cell from a clip on his belt and looked at the message that had just come in. “The warrant is ready. I need to go. You're sure it's okay for Mimi to stay here for a while?”

“I told you—”

He gave me a long, lingering kiss. “Right. Family.” In two steps, he was off the porch. “We'll pick up this conversation later?”

“All right.”

Maybe then he'd ask me . . .

And I knew exactly what I was going to say.

T
he village was slowly coming to life at just past nine as I hustled along the sidewalk, headed to the pet shop to pick up a few things for Titania. I'd showered, eaten, walked the dogs, and fed all the pets without seeing hide nor hair of Ve, which was unusual, as she was an early bird like me.

Her bedroom door had remained closed all morning, but about an hour ago I'd heard her speaking to someone behind the closed door. I didn't know whether she was on the phone, or if she was with the Elder, or was with the mysterious woman again. I'd shamelessly tried to eavesdrop, but she had been talking quietly, and I hadn't heard any other voices.

Thinking of the Elder made my stomach ache. As of right now, I was still clueless as to her identity, and I didn't like the knowledge that I
should
know who she
was. It was entirely frustrating, so for now I pushed it out of my thoughts and focused on the day ahead.

Mimi had been still snoozing when I left, even when both dogs had jumped on the bed with her and settled in for a morning nap. I couldn't help admiring her sleeping skills. I wished I had them.

Before I left, I had stuck a sticky note to the kitchen countertop letting both Mimi and Ve know where I was going, laced up my sneakers, and headed out, trying to ignore the baleful look Titania was giving me as I closed the back door. I hated leaving her behind, but I certainly couldn't take her with me to run errands.

I crossed a side street and weaved around a couple of displaced Extravaganzers walking their dogs around the village square. I said hello as I passed but didn't stop to make small talk. I wanted to pick up the things I needed for Titania, then get on with my day.

Located a block away from As You Wish, the Furry Toadstool was the center shop of three connected storefronts on the bottom floor of a three-story weathered brick building with ivory trim, arched windows, and elaborate cornices. Along with the shops, the structure offered office space on the second floor and apartments on the third. Purple and pink flowers spilled from window boxes set beneath every window, and charm oozed from the rafters.

Beautifully designed store shingles attached to wrought-iron brackets hung above each shop. And although the storefronts had similar architecture—two bowed display windows separated by a recessed entry door—they distinguished themselves with different colored awnings in jewel tones. To the left of the Furry Toadstool, the Snuggery, which sold furniture and home decor, had an aquamarine awning, and All That Glitters, a jewelry shop to its right, had an amethyst covering.

I stepped onto the sidewalk in front of the shops and skirted a large urn that yesterday had been overflowing with colorful annuals and dripping with ivy, but now had only half-eaten blossoms and chewed stems.

Cookie had obviously been by here, too, the sneaky little goat.

The pet shop had an emerald canopy, and as I stepped up to the store's left window to watch two puppies play, sunlight filtered through the fabric above my head and cast a green hue on the glass. The dogs rolled and tumbled in a bed of thick shavings, and I couldn't help enjoying their antics. Tension seeped out of me as I fought the urge to bring both puppies home.

A big stainless steel bowl of water sat below the opposite window, which displayed a variety of leashes, dishes, and clothes that the shop sold. But it was the two signs taped to the glass that captured my full attention. One was a discreet
FOR LEASE
sign that reminded me that Reggie would be gone soon, heading off to Florida.

My stomach dropped as I read the second sign, a notice for a lost dog.
BIG REWARD
was written in all caps at the bottom of the page.

Lady Catherine.

Her dour-looking image stared at me from the poster, and I couldn't believe my eyes. I'd seen her only yesterday. I quickly glanced around, hoping the beautiful whippet would suddenly appear. No such luck.

Peering into the store, I saw Marigold Coe inside at the counter, talking with Harmony Atchison, and an image of Lady Catherine hanging out with Cookie somewhere in the Enchanted Woods made me smile until I realized that possibility was highly unlikely. Reggie Beeson was nowhere to be seen.

I went inside, and the mixed scent of wood shavings, kibble, and sweet puppies filled my lungs. There was something so welcoming about this shop, an air that
made it seem as though all you needed was a pet in your life to be happy.

I wasn't sure if that vibe was given off by Samuel Beeson's lingering magic, or if it was simply true.

I knew my life was better with Missy in it, and even Tilda.

As I approached the counter, I noticed Marigold's green eyes were red rimmed, and Harmony rested a consoling hand on her shoulder as she held a box of tissues. A stack of Lady Catherine's Lost posters were sitting on the countertop.

“I just saw the sign,” I said. “What happened?”

Marigold plucked a tissue from the box and dabbed her eyes with it. She blinked as she looked at me, then tipped her head to the side. “New hairdo, Darcy?”

Harmony crinkled her face, and I tried not to take it personally.

For heaven's sake. Wishing I'd worn a hat, I said, “I'm just experimenting. It's not staying. What happened with Lady Catherine?”

“I don't know,” Marigold said, dabbing her eyes again.

At fifty or so, Marigold was short and squat. She carried her weight mostly in her midsection, and she almost always smelled of apples and cinnamon, which probably explained why I always thought of apple fritters whenever I ran into her. This morning, her normally beautiful short auburn hair stuck out every which way on her head, and she wore not a trace of her usually heavy-handed makeup.

“I let Lady outside just after six,” she explained, “and when I went to let her back in ten minutes later, she was gone. I've been searching for hours, and no one I've talked to has seen her at all.”

I knew where Marigold lived, and could easily picture
her big house with its fenced-in yard. The puppies in the window yipped as I asked, “Was the gate open?”

Tears filled her eyes, and she nodded. “I could have sworn it was closed when I went to bed. I check it every night, when I lock the doors and shut off the lights. Maybe . . . I forgot to look last night. It had been quite the day, and I was tired.”

Reggie's cane thumped against the floor as she came bustling out of the back of the shop, carrying a foam cup that had a tea string dangling down the side. “Here, my dear. Drink this,” she said, handing the drink over to Marigold.

I caught the scent of chamomile and thought it was a good choice to try to calm her down.

“We'll do everything we can to help find her, won't we, ladies?” Reggie said to us.

“Absolutely,” Harmony agreed. “Anything. Losing a pet is like . . . losing your heart.”

We all nodded solemnly.

Harmony kept patting Marigold's shoulder. “She'll turn up. Everyone who lives here knows who she is. She's practically a local celebrity. It's just a matter of time.”

Harmony also looked as if she hadn't slept well, with the discolored circles under her eyes more prominent than ever. In her early forties, she seemed more flower child than businesswoman. She wore a peasant blouse with a pair of baggy capris and sandals that looked as though they'd come from Baz's closet. Her long frizzy strawberry blond hair was pulled back in a loose braid that hung down her back nearly to her waist.

Marigold swiped at another tear and looked at her with a hopeful expression. “Did you find Cookie yet?”

“Not yet.” Harmony shook her head. “But I know she's around here somewhere, as I saw the evidence on the walk over here.”

Reggie said, “The flowers will regrow, dear. Don't you worry about that. Did you set out fresh water like I suggested?” She tossed me a glance. “Goats are very particular about their water. It has to be clean and fresh or they won't drink it.”

“Six bowls,” Harmony said as she set the tissue box on the counter. “And thank you for setting one out front as well.”

“I have one out back as well. She'll be fine,” Reggie said. “Goats are resilient animals.”

Reggie sat on a stool behind the counter and leaned her cane on the wall behind her. Even though she seemed to have energy to spare, I could only imagine the daily toll of running the shop took on her with her current health issues. I looked around. The shelves were sparse, most of the inventory marked with Sale stickers. The shop would close for good soon, and I was glad she wouldn't have to endure another harsh New England winter.

“Keep an eye on the green today. Goats are herd animals,” Reggie told us. “She'll be looking for friends to play with, and the green will be bustling with animals because everyone will be waiting there until they can get into the Wisp for their belongings. And perhaps,” Reggie added in a firm yet tender voice, “when you find her, you'll consider another goat as a companion for her. Or perhaps a dog. Even a miniature donkey, but you will have to run that past the village council.”

Marigold sniffed. “Donkeys come in miniature?”

“Yes.” Reggie placed her hands over her heart. “And they are just the cutest things.”

“Aw,” Marigold said, looking at Harmony. “Think of your guests. You could have your own little petting zoo.”

Harmony cracked a small smile. “No. No donkeys, and don't any of you dare mention it to Angela, or she'll
be online looking for one by nightfall.” She glanced around. “Her heart is way bigger than our yard.”

I thought about what Harper had said yesterday, about anything being available online. I was beginning to believe it was true. From cyanide to donkeys.

“But it won't take up much space if it's
miniature
,” I said, thinking a miniature donkey friend was exactly what Cookie needed in her life.

“And you have all that space behind the Pixie Cottage,” Marigold added. Her tears had dried and she seemed more in control. The tea had worked its magic.

Harmony shook a finger at us. “You all are as bad as Angela. I'm not getting a miniature donkey,” she insisted. “I can't even keep track of a tiny goat. If only I hadn't entered her in that competition, none of this would have happened . . .” Her voice trailed off, and an embarrassed flush colored her cheeks. “I'm sorry. Losing my goat is nothing compared to what happened to Natasha. I sound completely insensitive, don't I?”

Marigold set her cup down. “If you were insensitive, Harmony, then I'm going to be wholly callous, because I didn't care for Natasha at all. I'm sorry she died, but I won't miss her.”

I was about to follow that up with some direct questions about why she felt that way when Reggie spoke up.

“She had her faults, but she seemed to love her cat. That's a mark of genuine character that cannot be ignored.”

I held back a scoff at the mention of Natasha's character. I'd seen it on full display in that hallway at the Extravaganza yesterday.

“Did she love her cat?” Marigold asked with a lifted eyebrow. “Or did she only use her cat to garner more attention for herself?”

No one answered, which I thought spoke volumes.

I recalled the way Titania had snuggled against me and wondered if she'd been affection-starved, because try as I might, I couldn't remember a single time yesterday when Natasha had made a loving gesture toward her pet. It made me feel slightly ill.

“Where
is
Titania?” Reggie suddenly asked.

“I have her until I can track down someone in Natasha's family who may want her,” I said. I glanced around the shop, my gaze landing on a turquoise collar that would be perfect for her. “It's actually why I'm here. She needs a few things.”

Reggie laughed. “I'd been hoping this whole time that you'd come to tell me you were willing to sell your paintings here.”

“You're selling your paintings?” Harmony asked, perking up. “I'd love one for the Pixie Cottage. The lovely little white mouse you painted for your display at the Extravaganza just calls out to me.”

I couldn't help smiling. Mrs. P had once owned the bed-and-breakfast that now belonged to Harmony, and the two had formed a close bond. “I haven't decided to sell yet, but if I do, I'll keep your offer in mind. I'm just here to get a bowl, a collar, maybe a few toys, food, and a new litter box.”

“Dear, Titania's more than welcome to come here,” Reggie offered. “I don't mind at all and already have all the supplies. I know how Tilda can be.”

“Thanks, but Tilda actually enjoys her company, which is a slight miracle in itself.” I wrinkled my nose. “I don't want to displace Titania again at this point. Not until she leaves for good.”

“Well, the offer stands,” she said. “Just call if you need me.” She grabbed her cane and came around the counter. “I'll help you pick out what you need. I have some stock still remaining in my storage barn. If you want something you don't see here, just ask.”

Harmony bumped me with her shoulder. “Looks like Angela's not the only one with a big heart. Maybe
you
should get the mini donkey.”

“At this point,” Marigold cut in, picking up her stack of flyers, “
I'm
thinking of getting a miniature donkey. But first, I need to find my Lady.”

“Do you want me to hand some of those out?” I asked her, pointing to the stack of paper in her hands.

“Oh! Yes, please,” she said.

“I'll take some as well.” Harmony held out her hand. “I'll be out and about looking for Cookie, so it's no trouble at all.”

Reggie reached out. “I'll take some, too.”

I glanced at the sheet again. “How much is the reward, exactly? In case anyone asks. You know how people are.”

“And they will definitely ask,” Harmony said, “especially since it says it's big.”