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Ms. Soulton’s home was not quite what Wynona had expected. She lived in a much different part of town than Alavara had. The home was neat, but worn. It needed a new coat of paint, and the boards on the small front porch squeaked so badly that Wynona worried they would break underneath the boots of the officers with her.
Rascal knocked against the door. The sound was loud and rattled the wooden frame. No one answered.
“I’m sure she’s at the shop,” Wynona said, looking around. That feeling that she was being watched was strong. She was sorely tempted to use her new magic sight to look for spirits, but she refrained. She didn’t want to show the entire neighborhood her glowing purple eyes, and she didn’t think it would help her situation to know they weren’t alone.
Hopefully, it’s only Mr. Hesa, she reassured herself. The reporter had to be frantic to see this case to the end. It would be a huge career boost for him to nab this story before anyone else.
“Probably,” Rascal muttered. “But we have to knock anyway.” He pounded one more time. “Ms. Soulton! It’s the Hex Haven Police Department. We have a warrant to search the premises.”
“We’re not alone,” Daemon said under his breath. His eyes weren’t on the house, instead moving up and down the street in that practiced way of a man who knew what danger felt like.
Wynona shivered. Curtains twitched and a cold breeze teased her skin. Even the Grove of Secrets behind her house didn’t give her such a feeling. The neighbors weren’t just curious, they honestly did not like having the police in their area.
Rascal tried the knob, but it was locked. “Ms. Soulton, this is your last chance to open the door before I break it down.” He stepped back, grabbed his stun gun and counted to three. When the door remained closed, he raised his foot and slammed it into the fragile wood.
Wynona cringed as splinters flew around the deck, pinging off her skin. Violet squeaked and tucked herself deeper into Wynona’s hair for safety. Wynona wished she could do the same.
On tiptoe, she followed behind Rascal’s protective stance.
“Ms. Soulton?” Rascal shouted one more time. “Is anybody here?” He looked back at Daemon, who stood in the same stance and tilted his head toward the hallway. “Wait here,” he murmured to Wynona.
She wasn’t thrilled with being left behind, but his glowing eyes were fierce and she also didn’t want to get in the middle of something if Mardella happened to be home, but was hiding. The seconds ticked by slowly as the two officers moved around the space, disappearing from view, then coming back and going another direction.
“All clear,” Rascal finally announced, putting his stun gun back in its holster. He put his hands on his hips and looked around. “Where do you want to start?”
Wynona debated. “I think we need to search the bedroom and kitchen in particular, but I don’t know if it matters which one first.”
“Bedroom is that way,” Daemon said, pointing down the hallway.
Wynona forced her fear aside and led the way. The hallway was dark and cold and Wynona kept feeling as if something was lurking in the shadows. Only Rascal’s heated presence behind her kept her moving forward. He would protect her. She knew it as well as she knew her own name. Rascal would do anything within his power to see her safe.
She pushed open the door to the room and stepped inside. A large bed took up most of the room, the sheets and bedspread rumpled. Pillows were everywhere. Mardella might not have been much for decorating the rest of her house, but the bedroom apparently got extra attention.
The blankets looked lush and soft and Wynona was curious as to how it would feel to touch. Her revulsion at the situation kept her curiosity in check. “Daemon?” she asked. “Do you see anything?”
The black hole stood in the doorway, his eyes scanning the space. He shrugged. “There are traces of magic,” he said slowly. “But nothing concrete. Magical beings use magic all the time.” He pointed toward the bathroom. “Her lotion and make up all have magic in them.” He shifted and looked deeper. “As well as the shampoo in her shower.” Spinning, he looked at her dresser. “It looks like her glasses also have magic.” He shook his head. “None of that appears unusual, though. It’s exactly what we would expect of a woman, let alone a witch.”
Wynona nodded. “Right. Can we look at the kitchen?”
Rascal held out his arm and guided her back into the hallway. The kitchen was just off to the right. Like the bedroom, it had gotten more of Mardella’s time and attention than the rest of the home. Bright, stainless steel pots and pans were hanging from the ceiling in neat order. The stove and oven were abnormally large for the small kitchen and had to have been especially put in for the hearth witch to work with.
Daemon whistled. “This place reeks of it,” he murmured. “She puts a lot of effort into whatever she bakes.”
“Am I allowed to search the cupboards?” Wynona asked.
Rascal nodded. “Looking for anything in particular?”
“Valerian root,” Wynona threw over her shoulder. She began opening cupboards, shifting things around and looking for anything resembling an herb. She could hear Rascal and Daemon doing the same thing behind her. It was the third door she opened that finally brought a smile to her face. “Bingo,” she exclaimed.
Rascal came up behind her. “Find it?”
“Not yet.” Wynona began pulling jars and containers off the shelves. She arranged them on the counter, looking through each one. “Lavender. Rosemary. Sage...” Wynona frowned. Nothing here was unusual. It was all things she would expect to see in a hearth witch’s kitchen. Wynona finished reading the labels, but nothing stood out. She blew out a breath and rested her fists on the counter. “It’s not here.”
Rascal scratched behind his ear. “Could she have hidden it somewhere else?”
Wynona turned and eyed the rest of the cupboards. “We can finish looking through the cupboards, but for as organized as this place is, it seems weird for her to place herbs somewhere else.”
“Doesn’t hurt to look,” Daemon replied. He went back to his side of the kitchen. It only took another couple minutes for them to finish. “There’s nothing here,” he announced, closing the last one.
Wynona scowled. “We have to be missing something. There are too many things pointing to her.” She put her hands on her hips. “Where are those seventeen cats she talked about? I don’t smell or see any of them.”
Violet shuddered. Unnatural.
Rascal nodded. “I don’t know. Maybe what we’re looking for is at the shop?”
Wynona shook her head. “That doesn’t make sense, though. She was here with Mr. Montego that night.” Wynona pushed her hands through her hair. “I suppose she could have baked it at work and brought it back, but I just don’t see it. If she was spending the evening with Mr. Montego, why spend extra time at the shop?”
Daemon rubbed the back of his neck. “I see your point, but it doesn’t mean it couldn't have happened.”
Wynona nodded and slumped against the counter. “I know. You’re right.” She blew out a breath. “Now what?”
“Now we finish searching the house, seeing if there’s anything else helpful, then we call Chief and get a warrant for the shop if necessary.” Rascal grinned. “That should actually be pretty easy, since we confiscated the apron from there and it’s now missing.”
“Right.” Wynona began to walk around the rest of the home. The gathering area was small and sparsely decorated. No personal pictures or trinkets adorned the end table or the walls. Unlike the bed, the couch held no extra pillows or throws.
Violet grumbled. I guess she has her priorities set. Can’t blame her for the kitchen though.
Wynona tapped her finger on the back of the couch, an idea coming to her. “Daemon?”
He poked his head in from the hall. “Yeah?”
“Are you still using your sight?”
He shook his head. “No. Do I need to? It’s hard to maintain, so I’ve only pulled it out when we thought we would find something.”
Wynona swirled her finger around the room. “Can you tell me what you see in here?”
“Sure.” He emerged fully from the hallway and his eyes went completely black. “Whoa...” He nodded. “Lots of residual magic.” He frowned. “None of it yellow.” He turned to Wynona. “What does that mean?”
“Just a second. Can you do the same to the hallway and the front entry?”
Daemon walked around. “It’s all covered in the same grey magic.” His eyebrows remained pulled together. “But I don’t know whose it is.”
“I’m guessing we would find a bunch of it at the tea house, wouldn’t we?” Rascal asked from behind Wynona.
She looked over her shoulder. “Bingo.”
“You’re kidding,” Daemon huffed. “So, the witch wanted the real thing in the kitchen and bedroom, but the rest of the house was under a glamor.” He folded his arms over his chest. “I guess that’s how it all worked, huh? They used their magic to help each other.”
“Or at least to pay each other,” Wynona pointed out. “I’m still not convinced they were friends.”
“We’re still lacking evidence of the murder,” Rascal said softly. “I know this is good and interesting, but it doesn’t tell us who murdered Alavara.”
Wynona sighed. “I know. But we’re getting closer. We have to be.” She wandered back to the kitchen. “Has anyone checked the garage?” she asked.
“Nope.” Rascal followed her. “I’ll come with you.”
Wynona pulled it open and gasped. The smell of herbs was enough to knock her off her feet. She worked with herbs all day every day and she loved the fresh and bitter fragrances that tickled her nose. But this...this was something else. Ash, brimstone and feline were mixed with the familiar smells, turning the herbs into something far more toxic than Wynona had ever experienced before.
She pulled her shirt over her nose and reached inside with fumbling fingers to turn on the light. “What?” she cried, dropping her shirt when the room illuminated. The space was clean. Empty and clean. A shelving unit sat on the far wall, with just enough room for a small sedan in between it and Wynona.
Rascal coughed, the sound several feet behind her.
“Oh.” Wynona turned. His nose probably wasn’t having an easy time of it.
“What’s there?” Rascal wheezed.
“Nothing!” Wynona threw up her arms. “It’s completely empty!”
Violet tapped Wynona’s neck. Remember the glamor?
“The glamor is gone,” Wynona pointed out. “It died when Alavara died. That’s why we can see the old sofa and such.”
Violet hummed in consternation.
Wynona’s eyes widened. “Daemon?”
He walked over briskly. “Need another look?”
She nodded and stepped back, watching his face closely. There had to be something there. The smell was too strong to be anything but a laboratory, and not the kind of laboratory Wynona would want anything to do with. Whatever had been cooked up in this place was for evil intent.
“Oh yeah,” Daemon said. He held a hand over his nose. “She’s hiding the room, but apparently she can’t hide the smell.”
“How do we get through it?” Wynona asked breathlessly. This was it. She was sure of it. The evidence they needed was behind that wall.
“You don’t.”
The feminine voice was anything but welcoming and Wynona spun with a gasp. Mardella was standing in the kitchen and before Wynona could ask how she’d gotten in without Rascal hearing, she realized her boyfriend was on the ground...his face was red, but it wasn’t anger this time. It only took a moment for Wynona to realize the witch was strangling the wolf.