Hexes and X's (Z&C Mysteries, #3) Read online

  Hexes and X’s

  Book 3, Z&C Mysteries

  by Zoey and Claire Kane

  Copyright 2013

  Published by Breezy Reads

  BreezyReads.com

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Epilogue

  Though Hexes and X’s is part of the Z & C Mystery Series, just like the others, it has a stand-alone plot.

  THE RIDDLES OF HILLGATE

  “Read ‘The Riddles of Hillgate’ and loved it! Can’t wait till the next book comes out!”

  Carrie R., Fan from Breezy Reads’ Facebook Page

  “I enjoyed it because it was an over the top, slightly crazy mystery. I loved the mother daughter team of Claire and Zoey.”

  Colette, A Buckeye Girl Reads

  “Read this mind candy book and have a lot of fun with The Riddles of Hillgate.”

  Stephanie, From Books Paradise

  “The descriptive writing of the property, the home and the contents makes it come alive and you can almost see it. In fact, I would love to see this in a movie format.”

  Lynn Farris, Mystery Books Examiner

  “A very entertaining and fun read.”

  Kim, Kim’s Bookish Place

  “The Riddles of Hillgate pulled me in right away. I think it is an unique setting and allows for the perfect setting of mystery packed with humor!”

  Jill, Seaside Book Nook

  CRUISE TO MURDER

  5 STARS. “The story is quite fascinating with more ambitious content than the first novella and it affords lots of surprises. I was perfectly, wonderfully entertained! Take my advice and read this series. You will not regret, I promise!”

  Stephanie, From Books Paradise

  “This short mystery is packed with trouble, mystery and intrigue.”

  Kari, From the TBR Pile

  Cruise to Murder is, just as The Riddles of Hillgate, a fast, fun and entertaining read.

  Kim, Kim’s Bookish Place

  I really enjoyed Cruise to Murder... You won't be disappointed with this one.

  Jill, Seaside Book Nook

  Ye dream to be a treasure hunter? What color be a miserable death, mate? A rainbow, with the luster of heaven fillin’ a casket.

  Cursed is the sorry seeker. Dry bones of weary men lead to bloody pearls of ol’ smiley—Jolly Roger. Do ye dare place yer foot upon the first X? There be no turnin’ back!

  —Captain Zachariah Dread, 1803

  ONE

  “Oh, look—a letter from Matilda Dread.” Claire took a butter knife to open the envelope, as her mother chewed her breakfast toast with sudden interest.

  “Dear Zoey and Claire,” she read. “The Red Hatters all enjoyed our cruise so much better because of your clever involvement with the diabolical plan at the Koona Caves. We refer to it as a ‘Cruise to Murder.’ Nothing will ever again match the excitement of danger and adventure we experienced with you two. Thank you.

  “Yet, I wish to write of something which I believe will pique your curiosity. I would like to invite you to visit. I have another case for you to mull over in your keen minds. Lately you two have had a startling propensity to fall into mysteries, and having done so, unravel them.

  “I have found a sketch taken from behind a crumbling brick at Coven House that looks just like the aging building. Why would someone want to hide a picture of my coven’s building behind bricks when the two-story Victorian is a visible structure right before everyone’s eyes who drive down Dreary Oak Road?! Further, it was rolled and tied with a small cord—a finger bone in its knot. No, I have not taken it to the police. They would want to keep that as evidence. Coven House was built over two-hundred years ago, so I don’t believe anyone associated with the finger would still be around today.

  “I know it has only been two months since the cruise, but I promise you some good cooking, unusual people, and maybe a little adventure.”

  Claire set the note on the table with a smile. Autumn sunlight shone through Hillgate Manor’s kitchen windows, feeling warm and pleasant, but the thought of another mystery was the true cause of her delight. “She’s written her phone number at the bottom. Shall we go, Mom?’

  “I say, yes!”

  “Me too. I like Matilda. You said she claims to be a witch?”

  “Well, she was always drawing sidewalk hexes at college for people she considered bad, insulting, or dishonest.”

  “How’d that work out?”

  Zo pursed her lips and nodded cautiously. “She hexed Timothy Dayward to go bald. He was a womanizer who hurt her feelings. As I hear it, he in fact is bald and wears a toupée.”

  “Aren’t half the men in the world balding?”

  “Maybe more, but who’s to say about Timothy?”

  “Okay. Well, give Matilda a call then and tell her we’ll be coming.”

  *

  As Zo drove them into the outskirts of Grovesburg, the smell of cow dung sifted sneakily through the Volkswagen Beetle’s vents. The mother and daughter made scrunchy-nose faces at one another, hoping to say sayonara to the stink as soon as possible. A crooked population sign greeted them: “1057.”

  “And I thought Riverside was small with just eight-thousand residents!” Claire lowered her aviator sunglasses to the tip of her nose as she eyed the coming acres’ wheat fields drooping in boredom.

  The dashboard dinged and the gas tank symbol lit up. Zo sighed. Thankfully they made it into town, rather than being stuck on the seemingly never-ending two-lane highway. She soon pulled into a rusty two-pump station across from a Bebe’s Diner. Claire used it as an opportunity to find out how to exactly get to Matilda Dread’s residence on Catchme Drive.

  “You a witch?” the attendant asked Claire.

  “Ah, I’ve tried putting a spell on my ex, but he is still doing just fine without me—maybe happier.”

  “Too bad, lady. Yer a fine up-towner.” He leaned over the counter and exposed three missing front teeth in his big smile. “You know,” he said in a way that was both comical and repelling, “I’m single. You and me would go great together.”

  “Oh, thank you.” Claire played along. “That’s an offer I haven’t had all day.”

  “No problem. Take your time and think it over. I’m here all the time.” He stood straight. “And if you run into a little round woman with fuzzy brown hair, she is a liar. Don’t believe her. I am not betrothed to her. Now, ’bout where Tildy Dread lives. Go out to the stop sign just before the painted cattle crossing. Turn right. That would be Gilmore’s Road of No Return.”

  “What happened?” Claire interjected.

  “That’s the way old man Gilmore took when he run’d away from his wife. He claimed she was an old battle ax.”

  Claire nodded and asked, “Then where?”

  “Drive about four miles up and turn left on Dreary Oak. About two miles past Coven House you will see Catchme. You can only turn right there. She’ll be
the white house on the right with the unicorn mailbox.”

  “And your name is?” She just had to ask.

  “Folks ’round here call me Slobber on account of I chew a little black molasses tobacco and have some missing teeth, but,” he added, “I kiss reeeeal good.” He narrowed his eyes as he looked straight into Claire’s, like, You know what I mean?

  “I’ve actually kissed some guys who should share that name with you, Slobber. See you around.” The door’s bell jingled on her way out.

  “You find out anything?” Zo asked.

  “Yes. I found out how to get to Matilda’s. And, if you run across a little round, fuzzy-haired woman, don’t believe what she has to say. She is a liar.”

  TWO

  Driving down Main Street, it was apparent the stores had false fronts, making them look larger. Framing went at least five feet above the rooflines. Also like old Wild West saloons and general stores, they were crowded, standing shoulder-to-shoulder. “Claire, there is a pharmacy. And would you look, they call it Doug’s Drug Store. You don’t see anyone referring to pharmacies as Drug Stores anymore.”

  “Probably because they are tired of people setting up candles and throwing parties outside on the sidewalk. I wonder if Hollywood knows about this place.”

  “Stop there. I need to pick up a couple of things before we get to Matilda’s.” Cars parked at a slant, as there were no painted parking lines or meters.

  A cord of bells sang as the two entered. After Zo picked up toothpaste and a bottle of Tylenol, she met Claire at the counter, who was buying an eight pack of spring water. Two ladies were standing nearby waiting for their turn, one dressed frumpy in sweats, her flip-flops showcasing dry and cracked feet. The other dressed not much better, and had too much eye shadow. One notices these things while traveling through a new town, sizing things up.

  “Mom, come up here.” Claire waved from the front of the line. “It won’t take any more time from these ladies to ring up your two items with mine.”

  Zo politely smiled as she made her way to the front. The women had a passive expression in return.

  “You two just traveling through?” the gray-haired man asked from behind the cash register.

  “No. We’re here to visit Matilda Dread. I went to college with her,” Zo said.

  “You a witch?” He didn’t look up as he punched in the sales price.

  “Only when provoked by really inconsiderate people, or I am struggling to get open a bag of potato chips.”

  The man looked up and studied her a moment. “You are a pretty lady. I think you are speaking figuratively. That will be ten dollars and eighty-five cents, ma’am.”

  Zo turned to the two ladies behind her. “This seems to be a common question. Are either of you ladies a witch?” That brought a burst of laughter from the pharmacist.

  “No,” answered the woman in sweat pants, frankly.

  “Well, I never! I’m the preacher’s wife,” the other added.

  Claire smiled warmly. “I bet you threw salt over your shoulder or turned around when a black cat crossed your path.”

  “Why, those things are silly traditions of benign superstition.” The lady defended herself.

  Claire nodded while looking into the outraged woman’s eyes.

  “If you are worried, pray for me and my daughter? We’re staying with Matilda Dread.”

  The irate woman softened more. “Yes, yes, I will.”

  The other said, obviously moved, “I will, too.”

  “Thank you. I’m Zoey and this is my daughter Claire.”

  The one in sweat pants said, “While you all are at it will you pray for me tonight? I’ve been feeling sad, now that Ted left me for Cynthia.”

  Zo had enough experience with divorce to be truly empathetic.

  After the duo was out on the sidewalk, Claire asked, “Mother, did you mean it when you told them to pray for you?”

  “Of course!”

  “That’s good. You don’t want anyone Up There mad at you.”

  “That is for sure. And, when I’m in a moment of urgency and I yell, ‘Oh God!’ that is actually an instant prayer when I haven’t got time to elaborate. It actually has saved me a couple of times.

  “Whew, Claire. I’m glad we had this talk. Next, I want to talk to you about when the daddy bee approaches the mommy flower.”

  “Had that talk from Tiffany in fifth grade. She didn’t have it correct, though. I’m more interested in whether I’m right or Jack is: I say salt is for the three-hole shaker and pepper is the two-hole. He argued it was the other way around.”

  “I say it all depends.”

  “Depends?”

  “Yes,” answered Zo, “on whether one has high blood pressure or an inflamed stomach.”

  *

  Soon they were turning right at the unicorn mailbox into the driveway of Matilda Dread. She came through the screen door, having seen them.

  There were glad hugs and big smiles. “Leave your luggage in the car, because you will be staying at Coven House. I have three bedrooms, but other than mine, one is used for an office and the other for storing supplies. So you wouldn’t want to stay here anyway.”

  Matilda’s house was bright, colorful, and had big cushy chairs and a couch. The self-acclaimed witch looked absolutely glowing and healthy with her tousled gray hair. She wore a bib apron over a simple yellow-checkered dress, along with support hose and sensible shoes. “We will go over to Coven House before it gets dark, so we can get you settled. I will show you there where I have hidden the sketch and accompanying finger bone. I’m the only one who knows where it is. I am also the presiding matriarch of Coven House. You might call me President of our club of thirteen. I think you will be impressed with our building.”

  The meatloaf dinner was delicious with pickles, jam, beets, and green beans—everything canned and homemade.

  “Matilda, where is your husband? I thought you were married,” Zo asked, forking another big bite.

  “Oh, yes. We are divorced. He went out on me more than Fido through a dog door. Cynthia finally got him. She deserves him.” Matilda licked some strawberry jam off a finger.

  “Sorry,” Zo replied. “I have an ex. He left me for an older woman.”

  Matilda raised her eyebrows.

  “Yep. She had money, a bigger house, owned two cars, took him on a cruise. I had a job trying to sell real estate in a depressed market. He doesn’t like working,” Zo added.

  “Mom got even and he doesn’t even know it,” said Claire, eyes twinkling over a recent real estate deal that unexpectedly made her mother obscenely rich. Claire also was a recipient of that same good fortune.

  “I’m sure,” responded Matilda. “Your mother probably has men lined up at the door to date her. How about you, Claire?”

  “I’m not married. I was engaged. My ex is very ambitious. As long as I was climbing the ladder in a magazine as the editor, he could be proud of me. But, they brought someone else in when it was my move for a promotion. He lost respect for me, I guess, and called it quits. I don’t miss him. Mom and I are doing okay.”

  Matilda leaned into Claire. “How would you like me to hex him with a little balding curse?!” She cackled at the thought.

  “Thanks anyway, Matilda. He is pathetic enough. I’d rather see him dig himself into consequences all of his own doing. There is more satisfaction for me in that.”

  “Okay, but I am always here for you.” She smiled brightly. “Wow! We better head out to Coven House. It’s getting late.” Matilda went and picked up a container from the top of a tower of boxes. “Help me with this, sweets. This is all food I have put together for your stay over there. And don’t forget that box right there beside these. It has a few things that you might need as well, including a couple flashlights.”

  After they put everything in a big ol’ green pickup named Broom 2, per the license plate, the duo drove behind her to a large, auspicious Victorian: shingled siding, wraparound porch with pillars, a wroug
ht iron captain’s walk on a higher level of its various roofing lines, many windows of different heights and shapes, everything gorgeous and painted in colors of dark gold and deep cranberry hues. The estate sat on about three acres, with well-manicured lawns, the landscaping immaculately decorated from lavender Hydrangeas, pink Rhododendrons to purple Pansies. A wrought iron fence surrounded the entire premises.

  “It appears,” Claire said, pulling into its long drive, “our home, Hillgate Manor, has met its match.”

  The three ladies climbed the wrap-around porch, touching its handrails, leading their way to large double doors boasting black ring knockers and long amber windows.

  “Are you sure this isn’t the town’s library?” Zo asked.

  “Funny you should ask,” replied Matilda. “Wait until you get a load of the library in here!”

  Upon entering the large foyer, they were again astonished. Rose carpets on dark hardwood floors followed up the center of an extravagant staircase. Dark carved railings were art in themselves, the ends of the banisters swirling in an intricate manner.

  “I’m going to give you two the suite right at the top of the stairs. There are a couple of beds in there. This house tends to spook people out, so I thought you’d like to be together, not down at opposite ends of the hallway.”

  “That will be great,” assured Claire. “Mom and I are used to large houses. Who owns this house, anyway?”

  “That is up for argument. I say it’s historically my family’s. The Coven says it is theirs because they have been taking care of it and paying taxes for decades. The town says it is theirs and would like us all out of here, because it is an old and historical site with no ‘clear’ owner. If you ladies can come up with anything clever so that the town council won’t take it away from us, that would be appreciated.”

  “How about getting a lawyer, two or three?” asked Zo, concerned.

  “The girls and I cannot sell enough jam and pickled string beans to afford a lawyer.”