Freaky Witches (A Mystic Caravan Mystery Book 7) Read online

  I narrowed my eyes as I stared at the body. A man, probably in his forties, if I had to guess. His features were difficult to make out because of the blood coating his face. “What’s that on his forehead?” I asked, squinting.

  “It’s a symbol of some sort,” Kade replied, grim. “I don’t recognize it.”

  “I don’t either.”

  “I’m taking a photo,” Luke offered. “We can look at it later if necessary.”

  That was smart. Still ... . I glanced around. “Why are we just standing here? Why haven’t we done something with the body?”

  “We’re not doing anything with the body.” Kade was firm. “I sent Dolph to the police station. He should be back with help in a few minutes.”

  “You purposely called the police?” I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. “What if this is some sort of ritual and we have to fight witches? The police will get in the way of that.”

  “I’m well aware. We have no choice. We can’t cover this up.”

  “Why?” Raven asked, dubious. “We’ve covered up deaths before.”

  “Yes, but we have no idea who this guy is.” Kade kept his voice even. “He could be a local. Someone could be missing him.”

  “And he could be some evil freak who deserved to die,” Raven shot back.

  “If that’s the case, the cops will sort it out.” He showed no signs of backing down. “I don’t want to start our stay here by hiding a body. We’re going by the book on this one.”

  Even though part of me wanted to argue, I knew it would be wasted effort. It was too late. The police were on the way, and we were in the middle of a very uncomfortable situation.

  4

  Four

  The chief of police was a tall man, barrel-chested and seemingly annoyed at being dragged to the fairgrounds before his first cup of coffee. He glanced between faces, and to my utter surprise, ultimately landed on me to answer questions.

  “What’s going on?” he asked without introducing himself.

  I pointed toward the body. “We found that when we got up this morning.”

  “Oh, well, great,” he muttered as he caught sight of the body and moved closer. “This is just ... crap!”

  I took the noises he was making to mean he knew the victim. “Is he a local?” I asked.

  He nodded. “Yup. Darren Rappaport. He owns the cauldron shop.”

  I glanced over my shoulder to focus on Main Street. I’d seen the cauldron shop Brewed to Perfection the previous day and made a mental note to visit. I loved the kitschy name, even if I had no need for a cauldron.

  “What is your name?” The man’s eyes were clear as they met mine.

  “Poet Parker,” I automatically answered.

  “I’m Terry Davenport.”

  “It’s nice to meet you ... I guess.”

  He grinned. “The circumstances suck,” he agreed. “This is not normal, and you’re the newbies. It might not be fair to question you, but if I don’t ... .”

  I filled in the rest of it. “Your residents will have meltdowns.”

  “Some of my residents are going to have meltdowns regardless,” he admitted. “The thing is, there’s a symbol carved in this man’s head. It looks to have been done with a knife. I’ll need the medical examiner to confirm that, but it seems like a safe assumption.”

  For a small-town police officer – correction, the word “chief” was embroidered on his shirt – he was remarkably calm when faced with a ritual death ... and that’s exactly what we were dealing with.

  “We’ll answer whatever questions you have.”

  “Great.” He flashed a smile. “You’re in charge, right?”

  “How did you know that?” I was legitimately curious.

  “I know a few things about bossy women. You have the look.”

  “And what’s the look?”

  He shrugged. “You’re the boss and the others look to you for answers. It’s fine. If you could all go over by those picnic tables, I’ll be over as soon as I can.”

  I shared a quick look with Kade, who had remained quiet for the duration of the conversation. “Is it okay if we cook breakfast?” I asked finally.

  Terry bobbed his head. “I think that’s a good idea. It might take me thirty minutes to get over there. I have a local FBI agent on tap I’ll have to call. We’ll question you together.”

  Kade spoke for the first time since Terry took over the scene. “You have a local FBI agent in a town this small?”

  If Terry was surprised by the question, he didn’t show it. “It’s a long story. We’ll be over there in thirty minutes. Go about your day as you normally would, other than wandering around town, that is.”

  “I guess we’ll see you in thirty minutes,” I said.

  Terry nodded. “You will.”

  KADE WAITED UNTIL WE were a safe distance from the body and on our way back to the kitchen area to speak.

  “Why would they have a dedicated FBI agent in a town this small?”

  He seemed to be fixated on that tidbit, though I had no idea why. “I’m not sure why that matters.”

  He put his hand to the small of my back as he prodded me forward. “This is a tiny town. It has one stoplight. FBI agents get paid well. How could one be stationed here and stay busy?”

  I hadn’t considered that. “Maybe he handles the entire area.”

  “Maybe.” Kade didn’t look convinced. “He recognized you were in charge. Terry, I mean. He looked at everyone and focused on you.”

  “I noticed that, too,” I acknowledged. “Most places we stop people assume you’re in charge. He went straight for me. I find that ... impressive.”

  Kade snorted. “You just like being the boss.”

  “I think he’s intuitive.”

  “And I think he was really calm,” Kade countered. “That Darren Rappaport guy was killed ritually. You saw that mark on his head. There was enough blood on his chest to make me think that’s a mess, too.”

  “There was no weapon left behind,” Raven noted from behind us. “That means the killer took it with him or her.”

  “I’m more interested in the fact that the murder happened right outside the dreamcatcher lines,” I said. “We’re talking five feet from the barrier. I have trouble believing that’s a coincidence.”

  “That’s suspect,” Kade agreed, rubbing his hand over my back as he heaved a sigh. “The whole thing is weird, but we can’t really talk about it until after the police leave.”

  “Do you think he’ll assume one of us is the culprit?” Raven asked. “He didn’t seem overly suspicious, but we all know circus folk make easy targets.”

  “They do,” Kade agreed. “He was somehow ... different. I’m not sure what he’ll do. We need to play it by ear.”

  “I’ll tell the others.” Raven picked up her pace. “Let’s hope they’ve got a kill-happy local who likes to carve symbols into people’s faces to focus on. Otherwise, I think we’re going to be under the microscope on this one.”

  I had a feeling she was right. “What else is new?”

  WE MANAGED TO FINISH breakfast and were in the middle of cleaning the dishes when Terry appeared again. This time he was accompanied by a younger man, and they had their heads bent together as they crossed the field.

  The other man, who I assumed was the FBI agent, boasted black hair that brushed the tops of his shoulders (since when is that okay in the FBI?) and piercing blue eyes. He seemed interested as he glanced around the circus set-up, but he didn’t smile in greeting.

  “This is Landon Michaels,” Terry said as they joined us at the table. “He’s with the FBI.”

  “No offense, but I’m curious how Hemlock Cove managed to snag its own FBI agent given its size,” Kade interjected as Nixie and Naida brought the two mugs of coffee.

  “I live here,” Landon explained simply.

  “Yeah, but that’s not usually enough.”

  “My office is in Traverse City.” Landon rubbed the back of his neck. “I u
sed to live there. I spent as much time here as possible, though, so my boss allowed me to move here and commute. I have a special arrangement.”

  There was something he wasn’t saying, but I didn’t push. It was obviously none of my business. “Well, do you know how Mr. Rappaport died?”

  “Badly,” Terry said as he sipped his coffee. “Wow!” His eyebrows flew up. “This is good.”

  Nixie beamed at him. “It’s my own personal blend.”

  Terry returned the smile. He didn’t seem put off by her aquamarine hair, which made me like him even more. Most people simply dismissed the pixie twins because they looked different. Terry didn’t have that problem.

  “We need to ask if any of you spent time with Mr. Rappaport yesterday,” Landon started. “Did you meet him? Talk with him? Did anyone have words with him on the street?”

  I shook my head and glanced around. “I don’t think so. We arrived a little later than normal yesterday. The only person we really talked to was Margaret Little.”

  “You have my sympathies on that,” Landon drawled.

  “Why would we need your sympathy?” Raven asked, suspicious. She positioned herself close to Landon, making sure she was at the proper angle to send him flirtatious looks without having to strain herself, but he paid her little interest.

  “He just means that Margaret is ... a unique individual,” Terry said, clearly choosing his words carefully. I didn’t have to read his mind to understand he’d had issues with Margaret over the years. I could guess that she was high maintenance, and for a police chief with limited manpower that probably meant she was a regular pain in his posterior.

  “She seemed nice enough, if on edge,” I offered. “At first she thought we might be playing a prank on her, which I didn’t get. She was agitated until she found out who we were.”

  Landon and Terry exchanged a weighted glance, and I swear the younger man almost looked as if he was hiding a smile.

  “Margaret is paranoid sometimes,” Terry said. “But you don’t have to worry about her. She’s determined that this festival is going to be the greatest thing to ever hit Hemlock Cove. It’s getting national news coverage in pagan circles, which she’s very excited about.”

  “I guess I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” I admitted, wrapping my hands around my coffee mug to keep my fingers warm. “Why is this festival so special?”

  “It’s going to be huge,” Landon replied. “Vendors and witches are coming from every corner of the United States. Heck, if you believe Mrs. Little, they’re coming from Europe and Australia, too. They’re framing this as the biggest pagan festival in the world.

  “I happen to believe that’s probably a stretch, but who am I to argue with her?” he continued. “It’s a big deal for the town, which is why they took on the added expense of booking your circus. They want this to be an event.”

  “I wondered,” I said. “I wasn’t sure what to think when I saw the size of the town. Now I get it ... but I’m still not sure there are enough hotels and inns in the area to house the amount of people we need make this worth the town’s effort. It is what it is, though.”

  “Oh, trust me,” Terry nodded. “There are more than enough hotels in the area. Tourism is all we have here. We do it right ... and we have more hotels than you can imagine tucked in on the back roads and highways.”

  That was good to know. “What about the dead guy?” I asked. “The manner of death seems a bit suspicious given the fact this place is going to be hosting a witch festival in two days.”

  “Yes, well, we’ve discussed that ourselves.” Terry rubbed his chin, considering. “None of you talked to Darren last night, right?”

  I shook my head. “We were busy setting up. In fact, we have more stuff coming in about an hour. Our second load is right behind us. We didn’t have time to look around the town. We planned to wander a bit today. No one here met him. I wanted to check out his shop, but that’s it.”

  “I figured you didn’t have time,” Terry said. “You were the talk of the town when you arrived. I was in the diner for dinner last night and everyone was lamenting the fact that you were eating at the fairgrounds.”

  “I take it that we’re being watched,” Kade said, his lips quirking.

  Terry nodded. “This town likes its gossip. There’s no getting around that. Until the festival hits, you’re the new element … along with the tourists who are steadily trickling in. You might as well get used to that.”

  “We’re used to being stared at,” I supplied. “It’s not a big deal. What about the body, though? I can’t help thinking the placement of it wasn’t coincidental.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been considering that, too,” Terry admitted. “I don’t know why anyone would drop a body out there. The medical examiner is taking care of that right now, by the way. He should be finished before lunch. Please steer clear of the area until he packs up and leaves.”

  “I’m sure we can manage that,” Kade said. “I’m chief of security. I’ll make sure our people don’t bother your people.”

  “It should be fine.” Terry waved off the offer. “I don’t suppose you folks saw anyone hanging around here yesterday? I mean ... you didn’t notice anyone watching you from the woods or anything, did you?”

  “No,” I automatically answered.

  “Wait a second.” Kade held up a finger. “What about that woman you said you talked to yesterday? The one who stumbled out of the woods.”

  Terry looked keen as he leaned forward. “Did you talk to a local?”

  I’d almost forgotten about Tillie, which seemed impossible in hindsight. “Oh, well, there was one person. I very much doubt she’s a killer.”

  “More like a goddess,” Nellie offered, taking on a dreamy expression as he sipped his coffee.

  “Did this goddess have a name?” Landon asked.

  “Who are you talking about?” Raven demanded before I could answer. “Wait ... are you talking about that old lady? The one wearing the combat boots and carrying a whistle and a shotgun? That is a fantastic ensemble, by the way.”

  The looks on Landon’s and Terry’s faces were almost comical.

  “A shotgun and a whistle, huh?” Landon asked, shaking his head as he dug into his pocket. “I’m going to kill her.”

  “You know her?” I couldn’t hide my surprise.

  “You have no idea,” Landon muttered. “I just ... hold on.” He hit a button on his phone and lifted it to his ear as he waited for someone to answer. When whoever he was calling picked up, he started talking without issuing a greeting. “I need you to come to the fairgrounds. It’s about Aunt Tillie. We’re by the picnic tables.” He disconnected without waiting for a response. “That old lady will be the death of me,” he groused.

  “If she hasn’t killed me yet, I’m guessing you’re safe,” Terry said, finishing his coffee. “Seriously, this is the best I’ve ever had.”

  Nixie hurried over to pour more. “Stop by whenever you want while we’re here. I always have some ready for those who appreciate my greatness.”

  I WAS SURPRISED when I realized who Landon had ordered to the fairgrounds. It was the blonde from the newspaper office, and she looked to be in a hurry — and obviously worried — when she joined us.

  “What’s going on? Is Aunt Tillie okay?” She flicked her eyes to the rear of the property, to where the medical examiner’s team toiled. “She’s not ... .”

  “No,” Landon said hurriedly, grabbing her arm. “I’m sorry. I should’ve given you more information. That wasn’t fair.” He lightly tugged until she sat on the picnic table bench next to him. “Try this.” He shoved his coffee toward her mouth.

  Because she had little choice, she sipped the coffee and smiled. “Very good.”

  “You need to learn their secret so we can have this at home,” Landon said, causing things to slip into place for me. She was the reason he lived in Hemlock Cove. Whoever she was, she was everything to him. She’d been calling for Tillie the previou
s day, causing the older woman to disappear when she realized people were on the hunt, so I figured there were some rather interesting family ties about to be revealed.

  “This is Bay Winchester,” Terry said by way of introduction. “She owns The Whistler, the newspaper. She’s also the great-niece of the woman you met yesterday.”

  “Oh.” I studied Bay for a long beat. “Um ... it’s nice to meet you.”

  Bay met my gaze, steady and even. “You, too. You met my aunt?”

  “She kind of popped out of the woods,” I explained. “She was ... hunting. At least that’s what I think she was doing.”

  “She had her whistle and shotgun,” Landon said. “She also had on her combat helmet.”

  “And some very intriguing leggings,” Kade added, snickering at the memory.

  Bay narrowed her sea-blue eyes. “Leggings? Are we talking zombies or mummies?”

  “Dragons,” I replied.

  Bay’s mouth dropped open. “Oh, no! She promised she was going to get rid of those. My mother will have vampire bats flying out of her mouth when she finds out those dragons are still plundering for treasure.”

  I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing. She’d obviously fallen victim to the dragon leggings on more than one occasion. “She wears them well,” I offered lamely.

  “Oh, they’re horrifying. You don’t have to lie.” Bay slapped her hand to her forehead. “What was she doing out here? Did she say?”

  “I think she was messing with Margaret Little,” I answered honestly. “I can’t be sure, but that’s the feeling I got.”

  “Of course she was messing with Mrs. Little.” Bay scowled. “I told her to stay away from Mrs. Little until after the festival. I was firm, put my foot down. So, of course, what’s the first thing she does?”

  “Goes after Mrs. Little,” Nellie answered automatically, grinning. “I knew I liked this woman. She’s awesome … and I want to adopt her.”

  Bay shot him an odd look. “What?”