Moonlight Murder: An Inept Witches Mystery Read online

  She leaned up close to his face, and she said, “I think we both know how I feel about the phone call regarding Harrison’s death.”

  He closed his eyes as he said, “I have to be thorough to clear you.”

  She leaned close to him, running her teeth along his jaw and tiptoeing her fingers up the chest that she had slept on so many times.

  “That might be true, but it does not change how I feel.” Her words were soft and so very chill that the breath in her mouth came out in cool puffs of air, clouding his face and making him shiver.

  “This case needs to end.” She stepped back. “I am through with this.”

  “You need to stay out of this, Ingrid.”

  “Or you’ll what?” Her voice was angry this time, all control gone. “You’ll arrest me? Please. You can’t arrest me.”

  “I’ll do what I need to do.”

  “Oh, I didn’t say you won’t try. I said you cannot arrest me. You cannot do anything to me that I don’t like.”

  “I think I have a pretty thorough understanding of your abilities,” he said. He sounded tired. He didn’t get to sound like that. Not after calling about Harrison’s death. Not after indulging those hateful idiots who thought they could just tromp through her past with their insinuations.

  They did not need to discover her pain and her sorrow and the field of grief that accompanied losing someone she desperately loved and who was the worst possible aspect of her life. She did not need to return there in her mind.

  “You have a thorough understanding of the magic I can do when I am dabbling, Gabriel Tate. You have no idea what I can do when I am angry.”

  She lifted her fore finger in a slow upward motion.

  “Let me elucidate.” She spun him in a few circles and set him gently down. “But let’s pretend, just for a second, that I am as incapable as you seem to believe. That I’m nothing but what? An easy lay and a pretty face with a smidgen of magic abilities?”

  “I did not say any of those things.”

  “I have a sister, a mother, a coven, and a very good friend who would do anything to protect me from going to jail for a crime I did not commit.”

  “Ingrid,” he started.

  “It’s true that Aunt Hazel works with you,” she answered his objection before he could even finish it, “but don’t be stupid. And don’t think that I won’t take care of myself before they need to step in. I choose to live my life the way that I do. I choose to not pursue witchcraft and to spend my time with those I love rather than working a job for the sake of puritan-induced American work ethic guilt trip that makes no sense when you are as wealthy as I am. Making that choice does not mean I am incapable or stupid.”

  “I do not think those things. I didn’t say those things.”

  “This case is infringing on my life. I object.”

  “Let me handle it,” he said. There was almost a plea to what he said.

  “The only reason I can see that you want to clear my name is so that you don’t look like a moron for dating me.”

  “I did not say that,” he said with fury. He grabbed her face and pressed his forehead against hers, “I did not say or think that. Just let me handle it.”

  She tilted her head and then stepped back. With her movement, his hands fell away, and she felt as though he’d stolen the essence of her. But she wasn’t some fainting flower and this was not how things were going to happen.

  “No,” she said.

  “Ingrid, I will arrest you for interfering in my investigation.”

  She laughed and said, “Go ahead. I dare you.”

  •••

  Ingrid did not stop or wait for Emily. She slammed the door behind her and strode towards the exit of the police station. The anger burned so hot in her she felt like it left her in lightning arches.

  “I mean it, Ingrid,” Gabe yelled after her.

  She flipped him the bird and left the building. Emily was already outside waiting, sitting on the hood of Ghosty the haunted Camaro. She looked like one of those car magazines with a hot girl posing on a car. Yeah, suck it, Gabe. We don’t need you. Bless Emily. It would have been sucky to storm out of the building and then stand there like an idiot waiting for her ride.

  “That was epic,” Emily said. “Did you want me to hex them? Or get Hazel to?”

  She rushed to the car, yanked it open, and felt the cool rush of a ghost’s finger down the back of her neck.

  “Ghost,” she said. “Get your evil dead dove fingers off of me.”

  She started the car, Emily hopped into the passenger seat, and Ingrid peeled out of the parking lot. With a glance at Emily, Ingrid said, “I think I might have hexed people already. If what I remember my mom saying about needing to control our anger or unfortunate things happen, blah, blah, blah.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I have no idea,” Ingrid replied. The station was only a couple of blocks from the apartment. She got out of the car, kicked the wheel, and said, “We have to do something about that ghost. He is creeping me out.”

  Emily let Ingrid ignore what had happened until they got on the elevator. Ingrid felt her lip quivering and Emily immediately noticed.

  “Ice cream?”

  “Yes.”

  “Pizza?”

  “Calzone. Extra pepperoni.” Ingrid was breathing in through her nose and out like an owl, fighting tears with fury and losing.

  “Wine?”

  “All of the wines.”

  When the door to her apartment closed, she squeezed her eyes tight and told the waiting Emily, “They called about Harrison’s death. Gabe broke up with me. And I probably hexed at least a half-dozen people.”

  “They deserved it,” Emily said without missing a beat.

  A long, silent moment passed.

  “Are you all right?” Emily’s voice was careful and quiet.

  “I’m going to cry in the shower, binge eat, and then solve this murder. Whereupon I am going to find a way to …”

  She wanted to say she would find a way to torture Gabe, but that wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted to go back to the night before the witch event and stay home with Gabe rather than going into the woods. She wanted this to have never happened.

  She didn’t say anything else, just spun for her bathroom and her massive shower and washed her tears away with hot water, angry music and the wine Emily delivered to the bathroom.

  Chapter 5

  The Lion’s Den

  Ingrid was fresh out the shower, her belly filled with calzone and wine and Emily was ready to roll.

  Emily jingled the car keys, motioning for Ingrid to follow her. “Deputy Dumbass. Let’s hit his house first. Because, I hate him. And I’ll drive because, well, all the wines.”

  Ingrid smiled, looking like her old self. Sort of. Emily could see that there was an undercurrent of distress in Ingrid’s face, but she was joking and smiling again. She had purpose.

  Emily spoke again. “We are totally going to solving Sheldon’s murder before Sheriff Jerk and Deputy Dumbass. He was worried about how he’d look dating you, imagine how dumb he’ll look when it turns out that his deputy murdered his girlfriend’s ex-boyfriend. Kevin will make Gabe look way more incompetent.”

  Ingrid grunted, and Emily checked her face to make sure she wasn’t mad. Nope. She was all smiles.

  “I’m going to enjoy punishing him. As soon as I’m not dying inside.”

  Emily opened her mouth to reply, but Ingrid kept going so Emily closed it again.

  “I hate that I let myself get the feels for him. He’s just so….ugh. He’s so…”

  Emily patted Ingrid's leg as she drove the Camaro toward Kevin and Tia’s house.

  “I know, Ingrid. I get it. You hate him, but only because you love him and want to murder him, right? Maybe he’ll be our next murder investigation. Except it won’t take you long to solve it, because it will have been me. I’ll run him down with the Camaro. It’ll be double haunted. Then we’ll be on the run together. Maybe Jamaica this time? Do they extradite to the United States?”

  Ingrid raised an eyebrow. “We’ll be sure to research that before we flee the country. But I’m gonna have to call dibs on executing the…” She left it hanging. She didn't want to call him bastard or jerk or whatnot. Oh man, she had it so very bad for him. “I’ll need the outlet for my emotions.”

  Emily changed the subject now that they were around the corner from their destination. “Should we just knock on the door. Obviously Deputy Dumbass is at the station, but his wife might be home.”

  “No, I want out of this car. It’s giving me the creeps. I can feel the damn ghost breathing down my neck. Let’s park down the street and walk. If Tia is home, we’ll knock. If she isn’t, we’ll break in. Gabe is already furious. I might as well become an actual criminal.”

  “I like it.”

  They parked the car and walked the short distance. It was cloudy and the wind was blowing. The weather matched the stormy look on Ingrid’s face. The cold rain drops felt good on Emily’s skin.

  Emily spoke. “It’s super appropriate that it’s like end-of-the-world weather out here right now as we begin our life of crime together.”

  Lightning struck a tree, perfectly timed with the end of her declaration.

  Ingrid nodded. “Yes. Perfect. I feel like I’m made of lightning right now. I kind of hope Tia is home. I need to kick someone around. If she hadn’t been available for Sheldon’s booty calls every time he came on the island, maybe he would have been able to leave me and Sage Island in the past. But instead she kept luring him back here like the cheating wife-whore cow-dove that she is. This is completely her fault.”

  “For sure. We’ll make her pay. Pinky swear?” Emily extended her hand to unnecessarily lock in
the promise.

  They locked pinkies and shook on it. “Swear.”

  Tia’s Prius was not in the driveway. “Score,” Emily said. “Hopefully she's stranded somewhere in her stupid electric car. I mean, don't get me wrong. I’m all for saving the planet, but we could use a break. Plus, it’s a pea-green color. I mean, honestly, who buys a car that looks like it was inspired by baby diarrhea?”

  Ingrid grinned. “She has terrible taste. Obviously. She was hooking up with Sorry Sheldon. Clearly she had no self-respect. I mean, college dingbat me didn’t even sleep with Sheldon.”

  They walked around to the back of the small bungalow to check the back door. “This is a cute house, Ingrid. I mean, how did someone with such terrible taste pick out such a cute house?”

  “Eh,” Ingrid replied, “it was cute before she ever moved in.” She tried the back door, which was unlocked, and let herself in. She faked a gag as soon as she stepped into the kitchen. “Besides, you spoke to soon. She apparently has a thing for poop-green.”

  Emily stepped in behind Ingrid and choked. The walls, cabinet, linoleum, and counter top were the same horrific color as Tia’s car. This might be the most disgusting thing she’d ever seen. Other than the blown-to-bits body.”

  “Oh, man. This kitchen is ruined. Ruined. It could have been so cute. Check out those exposed beams and the vintage stove. What the hell was this girl thinking?”

  Ingrid laughed. “Maybe she was punishing herself for being an adulteress?”

  Emily snorted and cackled. “That might be the funniest thing today.”

  “Yeah, not hard with the terrible, horrible, very bad, no good day we’ve had so far,” Ingrid said. And then stifled a sniffle.

  “So, uh, I’m not sure what we are hoping to find here. Chunks of Sheldon’s body?” Emily tried to keep the mood light, but being in this putrid kitchen was giving her an extreme desire to leave immediately.

  Ingrid joked, “That would be nice. Easy. Maybe in Tia's bed. Maybe she kept his penis for memorabilia? Or Kevin. If Kevin killed him, maybe he kept some sort of trophy to remind his wife that she was his forever?”

  Emily eyes lit up in evil glee. “Ew. Well, yeah, except we are the ones that blew the body up.”

  “Oh, right. Well, he got shot right? Maybe they shot him here? He? She?”

  “I don’t know,” Emily said. “If Kevin did it, he wouldn't be stupid enough to leave the evidence right? Like he would have cleaned up the blood and dug the bullets out of the wall or whatever?”

  “You’ve been watching a lot CSI, haven’t you Emmy my dove?”

  Emily shrugged, refusing to be ashamed of her useful addictions. “Well, you know. I don't have a job. And with this island becoming a hotbed of homicidal maniacs, it’s probably good I know what I'm talking about.”

  Ingrid laughed, moving through the house as they bantered. “I can see the book title now. All I Need to Know to Solve Murders, I Learned from Crime Shows on Netflix.”

  Emily ran with her idea. “Oh, I like it. We should co-author it. It will be fun. We can drink wine and pretend like we are super famous authors. I mean, we are already super rich. All we are missing is fame.”

  “True enough,” Ingrid said. “Although it is possible that if we are connected to enough murders, we could become infamous murderesses. The Sage Island Serial Killers. Has a nice ring, don't you think?”

  “Do you want fame or infamy, dear Ingrid?”

  “Good point. Infamous is not the same thing as famous. I want fame. So I can rub it in Gabe's face. But we could get famous by writing that last book you mentioned. We should come up with a pen name.”

  They continued walking through the house, finding no evidence of any kind of fight or bloody massacre.

  “This isn’t working,” Emily said. “And no pen name. We want fame, right? We have to use our real names.”

  “Yeah, you’re probably right. We’ll win the Nebula award for our murder mystery. I’ll want Gabe to know that he is the incompetent sheriff character in my book.”

  Emily cleared her throat.

  Ingrid fake apologized. “Sorry, our book.”

  Emily continued. “Plus, the Nebula award is for science fiction. Not mystery.”

  “Whatever, we’ll just create our own planet and set the mystery there. There. Science fiction. Easy peasy.”

  They were upstairs now in the master bedroom, and they both froze when they heard the front door open.

  “It’s okay,” Emily whispered. “I got this. You think it's Tia or Kevin? If it’s Tia, I’ll clock her from behind with a candlestick. If it’s Kevin, I’m going to use the wrench. And I’ll hit him a few more times to knock sense into him.”

  “It has to be Tia. Kevin drives a loud ugly truck. We would have heard him drive up. Just like that cheating dove to sneak up on us.”

  Just then Tia came into her bedroom, catching them red-handed. Her eyes were red from crying and she was wearing stained sweats and a holey t-shirt.

  “What the hell are you guys doing in here?”

  “Sheesh, Tia. That’s no way to greet someone who has come over to check on you.” Emily thought on her feet as she spoke. “You look unwell. We figured you’d be feeling terrible about your lover's murder so we thought we would check on you.”

  Ingrid chimed in, playing along. “We were going to bring a casserole, but then we remember that we don’t cook so we, uh, we wanted to see what kind of wine you like. We brought some back from St. Maarten's and we don’t mind sharing. Especially when there’s been a murder…”

  Emily smirked at a speechless Tia. They were being damned mean-girl to her, but she was cheating on her husband and those actions were completely screwing up Ingrid’s life. Tia deserved a little bit of harsh.

  Tia smirked. “Get out. You aren’t here to help me. I’ll call the cops.”

  Emily watched Ingrid’s face change at the mention of the cops, the wound of Gabe’s break-up re-opening. Emily lashed out at Tia. “You won’t call the cops because if you do, I'll tell your husband, Deputy Dumbass, that you are sleeping with his murder victim. You’ll look guilty. Maybe you are. Did you murder Sheldon? Maybe he was bad in bed and you couldn’t take it anymore? Or maybe he was going to tell your husband about your little pathetic tryst?”

  Tia paled. “You wouldn't tell him! I mean, how did you even know about Sheldon and me?”

  “The whole island knows,” Ingrid replied. “Plus, we are witches. So, obviously we just know things.”

  “You are terrible witches,” Tia said. “Everyone knows that.”

  Ingrid looked at Emily. “She sort of has a point. But you know, I don’t think I’m going to let you—a cheating dove—insult me. Especially not today. I think I should show you that I’m not the terrible witch you and everyone else seems to think I am.”

  Emily was getting nervous. Ingrid sounded slightly out of control and a little too close to the wrong kind of crazy.

  Ingrid lifted her hand and pushed Tia into the bathroom, then flicked her wrist and shut the bathroom door. Then with another movement from her hand she slid the dresser in front of the door so Tia wouldn’t be able to get out.

  “Uh, damn. Remind me not to piss you off.”

  Ingrid rolled her eyes. “She can sit there in the bathroom until her precious deputy comes home. And we are only terrible because we want to be. People irritate me today.”

  “People irritate you every day.” They walked out of the house nonchalantly as if they hadn’t just broken in and locked the homeowner in the bathroom before leaving.

  “It’s true. But especially today. What should we do now? I don’t think Tia did it. I mean, I want her to have done it because she is a horrible human. But, I don’t know. She seems pretty sad that he’s dead.” Ingrid stared at the Camaro for a long moment to think.

  “Maybe she is just sad because she realizes that in addition to being a cheater, she is also a murderer.”

  “Possibly.” Ingrid sounded unconvinced.

  Emily grunted, sounding irritated.

  Ingrid continued, ignoring her friend. “I think we should go talk to Maria. I've always liked her. And maybe she can give us some info about other people that might have hated her brother. Or some proof that Deputy whatever-you-call-him did it. That would be great. He could go to jail. Gabe would be proved to make stupid decisions, and he’d have to apologize. Cheating Tia can be left home alone. Her lover dead and her husband in jail. That would be good, right?”