The girl had most definitely left without it, which meant she’d also come back. Probably in the dead of night.
“What do you mean? Who else were you expecting to find?” Greta asked, watching me closely. Always watching.
“Oh, I just meant Parker,” I said, preferring to keep at least some of my cards close to the chest.
Greta shook her head.“He’s already got more than enough to handle in his role as liaison to the force. Notice how there isn’t any crime scene tape around? Lila was one of ours. Getting the normie police involved would only slow down the inevitable.”
“The return of the killer, you mean?”
Greta’s expression blanked. “What? Oh, yes. Of course, that’s what I meant.”
Uh-huh.I was starting to realize I couldn’t even trust Greta as far as I could throw her, which wasn’t far at all, given my disdain for regular exercise. Still, she was who I had right now. I’d learn whatever I could from her and then check back with Parker—or, heck, even Fluffikins—for confirmation later.
Greta smiled over at me, but I could tell it wasn’t genuine. “There’s no time like the present. Let’s get down to business.” She swept her hand in an upward flourish and the front door creaked open.
The first thing I noticed was that Mrs. Haberdash’s body had been cleared away. The grand entryway sat empty, but something in the air shimmered almost like a mirage. It was as if the house itself were waiting for something. Was that something me?
I stepped inside and felt its energy envelop me like a warm bath. Granted, I much preferred hot showers, but this new sensation relaxed me all the same. In fact, it almost felt as if I were floating. That was silly, of course, given that I was standing firmly on the hardwood floor. Nothing looked different. It’s just thatI feltdifferent.
Greta walked a slow circle around me, muttering to herself. Her whispered words were too quiet for me to make out, not until she stopped in front of me and grabbed onto both of my wrists, holding them at the pulse points.“It’s calling to you. Isn’t it?”
I nodded. What was the point in arguing?
“Then the first part was much easier than we expected it to be. The town has already accepted you as a host for its magic.”
“But this is supposed to be temporary,” I argued, unable to tear my eyes away from her intent, blistering gaze.
“That was the initial plan, yes, but we have to listen to what the land wants, too.”
“Which is me?” I squeaked.
“It most certainly seems that way.”
“But its magic is with Mrs. Haberdash’s murderer,” I pointed out without blinking, afraid to look away. I didn’t like where this was headed. It was even worse than the mind control Fluffikins and Parker had both exerted over me. I could avoid a single person, but what if the land itself decided it wanted to influence me? My only hope would be to move away from town—which, sure, I didn’t have roots down or anything, but it would still take time to make a run for it.
“For now. There are ways to change that, of course.”
“You don’t mean—”
“That you kill the killer and claim the magic for yourself?” she asked with a smirk.
I gulped hard and nodded. Did she honestly expect me to take a life as part of a stupid temp job? Magic was cool and all, but not cool enough to make me change the core of my beliefs. Murder was wrong. That should have been a given here.
Greta crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her weight from one side to the other.“Of course that’s what I mean.”
“I’m not killing anybody,” I argued fruitlessly. For all I knew, Greta or any of the others could force me to do it with their mind control magic.
“We’ll see,” my supposed mentor told me with a light laugh.
My stomach dropped to the floor right beside where Mrs. Haberdash’s body had lain sprawled less than twenty-four hours ago.
I liked the idea of magic, but in practice, it was proving to be way too much for me to handle. I wasn’t a witch, but I was even less of a murderer.
Whether or not the intended victim was guilty of a terrible crime, it definitely wasn’t my job to mete out justice.
But just how easily could I quit the Paranormal Temp Agency and resume my normal life as if nothing had ever happened?
I was beginning to feel this situation had escalated todo or die.
What would happen if I refused both those options?
14
Greta showed me around the house, which frankly appeared to be falling apart at the seams. She walked me through each room, describing the items in it and what purpose each held. It was boring with a capitalB.
Seriously, how was any of this meant to contribute to my magical training? We were already working on a tight schedule here, and instead of teaching me spells or potions, my assigned mentor spent the last ten minutes describing how Mrs. Haberdash had bespelled her socks to make them three degrees warmer than room temperature. Not even the magic she’d used to accomplish the task, mind you—just the fact she’d done it at all.
How was any of this supposed to help me catch a killer? Every single time I tried to ask a more relevant question, Greta brushed me off by changing the topic. At this rate, I might learn to tailor my pants with magic by the time the day was through, but I’d never learn anything cooler like how to fly or… I don’t know, evade a death blow, maybe.
The only thing that managed to keep my attention at all was the bedroom closet. Greta drifted in and began flipping through the previous tenant’s wardrobe, explaining the type of Town Witch duties each selection could be worn for.
Ugh.Why did I need to know any of this?
My mind wandered yet again, turning Greta’s nasally voice into a buzzing drone as I glanced around the room in search of something more interesting to ponder over. That’s when the fantastic black hat sitting on the top shelf of that closet caught my eye.
Of course, I had no qualms about interrupting Greta, seeing as I hadn’t really been listening anyway. “What’s that?” I asked, motioning toward the black velvet hat that had been embellished with a purple satin sash.
Greta’s eyes lit when they landed upon it. “Oh, good find. This is the most important item in a Town Witch’s entire wardrobe and possibly the single most important item she owns. I can’t believe the murderer would have left this here.”
Instead of waiting for her to explain further, I grabbed the hat off the shelf and unfurled the top, finding it ended in a perfect delightful point.
A burst of energy shot straight into my chest, lighting me from the inside. The hat was speaking to me in the only way it could—through its magic. Without so much as a second thought, I plopped it right on top of my newly pinkened hair. And the exact moment that witch’s hat hit my head, a vivid picture filled my mind. I saw Mrs. Haberdash going about her business, checking the mail (proof she’d received my letters!),heading to the kitchen to make tea, and then…
She dropped the kettle to the floor with a crash that sent hot water flying everywhere. I couldn’t just see and hear it, I felt the burn, too. I glanced down but only saw my own feet beneath me.
“It’s time then?” Mrs. Haberdash asked with a gasp while my vision had been pulled away.
I closed my eyes to snap my attention back to the scene unfolding in my mind, but all I saw was the spilled water on the floor.
A heavy weight settled on my chest, turning breathing into a struggle. The sound of echoing footsteps approached, but I couldn’t see who was there with her—with me.
A rush of wind blew over me and an icy chill wrapped itself around me. The scene snapped out of focus and…
“What are you doing?” Greta cried, holding the hat clutched firmly in one manicured hand as she stared at me in horror.