Bewitched, Bedeviled and Bewildered (Sister Witchcraft Book 1) Read online

  “Right.”

  “But I just can’t see her doing something like that.”

  Max hesitated, then made a face. “I can. I’ve seen her steely determination at work.”

  “When?”

  He shrugged and put a finger to his lips. “I’ll tell you when we’re done. Let’s see what she’s saying.”

  We both listened intently. Kashmir was obviously working hard to put himself close enough to where she was speaking without revealing himself to the witches. And I could make out about half of what Cindy was saying.

  “Sorry to leave you in a jam….my sister needs me….I have to go right away…..don’t know if I’ll be able to come back any time soon….overtime pay? Sorry….but I need the money….”

  Max looked at me, puzzled. “Sister? She doesn’t have any family at all.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I did a feature on her when she won the Founder’s Day Marathon last summer. She’s an orphan, grew up in an institution and everything. No sister, no brother.”

  “Then why would she say that? Unless….”

  “Unless she’s lying. Unless she needs an excuse to get out of town before….”

  “Before someone investigates her for maybe killing Lenny?” I still couldn’t believe it.

  Max grinned at me. “You got it baby. I told you I’d seen her steely determination. That marathon was a killer and she wouldn’t let go. Like a bulldog, she wore everyone else down. It was unbelievable.”

  “Wow.”

  “Hey, this is the best lead we’ve got so far. Let’s go.” He snapped his fingers and jumped up.

  I gazed at him in bewilderment. “Go? Go where?”

  “To stop her. She’s trying to escape.”

  “Oh.”

  We ran down the stairs, passing Sybil and Lucy who were standing there with their mouths open, and jumped into his car, a little old VW bug that sounded like a threshing machine. But it moved, and we sailed on down the street, heading for the Shady Tree. Max pulled up in front, put it in park and ran into the restaurant to see if Cindy was still there. I waited in the car, the engine still running. Then I saw Cindy going out a side door, heading toward the alley. She was going to get away!

  I jumped out and ran after her. “Hey, Cindy!” I called. “Wait up.”

  She turned and looked at me, her face suddenly scared and trapped-looking.

  “What do you want?” she cried, backing up against a brick wall. “Stay away from me.”

  “Cindy.” I stopped in my tracks, astonished. I still hadn’t processed the fact that she might actually be guilty. “Wait. I just want to talk to you about Lenny’s murder.”

  I could see her shudder and panic filled her eyes. “I didn’t mean to kill him,” she cried, and tears began to pour from her eyes. “I just wanted to scare him a little. He…he dumped me. Did you know that? Right after I told him I was pregnant. He laughed and walked away. I lost the baby that night.”

  “Oh Cindy, I’m so sorry.”

  I moved closer, wanting to comfort her in a way, and she let me get about a foot away before she pulled the knife out.

  “Stay away from me,” she yelled, slashing at me with the blade. “You with your perfect little tea shop and your perfect little life. How could you know what my life has been like?”

  “Cindy!”

  I jumped back, but she nicked me with the knife and I grabbed my arm, then looked up to find her surging at me, knife held high, about to plunge it into my neck. Her face was contorted and ugly. I made a quick sidestep, but didn’t totally avoid her, and suddenly Kashmir was there, right under her feet, and she fell, knife clattering to the cement, and Kashmir and I both jumped on her, holding her down.

  Luckily, Max appeared, cell phone already connected to the sheriff. Cindy began to cry, big, heart-felt sobs, crying for Lenny, crying for herself.

  It was very sad, but it was over. The officers arrived, along with the paramedics, who bound my wound and stopped the bleeding. I looked at Max and he looked at me—and gave me a big, lascivious wink. Something told me he and I were going to be friends—good friends. It was just inevitable.

  But Kashmir wasn’t completely satisfied with the way things had gone down. He caught me in the courtyard when I stopped by to see how things were going. There was no one else in sight, so we sat at the picnic table and had a talk.

  “Sure, we nabbed the bad guy…uh, girl…but we had a lot of bumbling and missed connections on our way to the happy ending. We need to work on that. We should be able to coordinate like a well-oiled machine.”

  Quite a speech from a cat, huh? But Kashmir is a very special cat and his statements were few and far between—yet always profound. There. I’m trying to learn to talk in his knowledgeable tone. Don’t grade me yet. I’m just learning.

  Anyway, despite all that, I was a bit incredulous at his premise. (Good words, no?)

  “Really?” I said, skeptical. “I mean—is that what we’re here for? To catch crooks? And if so, how many crooks are there in this town? How busy will we be? And how dangerous is this work anyway?”

  Kashmir rolled his golden eyes. “Crooks, in the traditional way of thinking, are people who prey upon the weak and helpless. They rob from those least able to defend themselves. That is my vision. We protect those who need it. That is our purpose, our goal. I’m sure you are prepared to share that vision.”

  I hesitated, not so sure myself. I reached out to pet him and he moved further away, obviously not in the mood for the usual cat rituals. I frowned.

  “Listen,” I said. “I get that I’m supposed to fill a role that’s been established in some sort of hierarchy of control around here. But I’m not so sure I’ve been well enough trained to do that sort of thing. I mean, am I supposed to challenge bad guys? Am I supposed to face down robbers and thieves? Am I expected to stop murderers in their tracks? Cuz if that’s the deal, I’m not sure I’m the right woman for the job. I’m a tame, quiet sort of person, not given to feats of strength or courage. In fact, I’m pretty much a coward if you ask,….”

  “Stop!”

  I stopped, startled at his tone, and I stared.

  “Stop right there,” he said, blinking at me. “You are so far off the mark, I don’t know where to begin. No one is expecting you to be Superwoman or Batgirl or anything like that. Not even a version of Emma Peel. You’re a witch. You can use magic to get the results that you are aiming for. Are you completely untrained?”

  I blinked right back at him. “Pretty much,” I admitted.

  He sighed. “Alright then. At least we know where we stand. I can help you. But you must be cooperative.”

  I took in a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll try.”

  He stared at me for a long moment, then licked his paw and washed his face. When he was finally finished, he looked at me again.

  “Here’s our first objective. We need to find the Book.”

  “The Book?”

  He nodded. “The Book.”

  “You mean that manual you gave me to study?”

  He shook his head. “No. That is the manual. What we must find is The Book. Your grandmother’s book of spells and potions, handed down from generations of witches in Europe and then on this continent in centuries gone by.”

  “Does this book have a name?”

  “Yes, but it is only spoken in whispers.”

  This was getting a bit tedious. “Okay. If I’m very still, will you whisper it to me?”

  He gave me a look but he did as I asked, leaning close to my ear. “The book is called, The Grimnoire of Circe.” He sniffed. “There. Now don’t go talking about it out loud. There are others who want it very badly. It’s imperative that we find it first. Without it, we are flying blind.”

  That sounded serious. “Where is it?”

  “Ah, that is the question. And it is up to us to ferret out the answer.”

  “Okay. What do we do?”

  He gave me a pitying look. It was pretty
obvious he found me a poor specimen of witch compared to what he was used to. That put me on edge a bit, but I was determined to learn and grow and become a witch he could be proud of. If I only knew how.

  “Where shall we look?” I asked.

  He gave me a superior stare. “Everywhere,” he said at last. “Everywhere.”

  I nodded, not so sure how I was supposed to do that, but willing. “Everywhere,” I repeated in a whisper, glancing around the courtyard. Okay then. I was ready.

  Despite the incredible way we wrapped up the crime investigation, the tea shop had to remain closed for almost a week. That meant new food, new clotted cream, new everything. But we finally had our second Grand Opening Day, and everybody in town came to wish us well. Now that the story was out on how Cindy had spiked the golden sugar packet with poison—arsenic it turned out to be, indeed—no one was afraid to drink my tea. It looked like Grand-Mere’s dream was going to live to fight another day. So to speak.

  It was such a relief to get that murder and its consequences out of the way and be able to move on. We had big plans. Sybil could get back to her little girls and her husband Gary. I could start on my next project: finding out what had happened to the chandelier. I wouldn’t be happy until I had it—or another like it—in my entryway again.

  The Secret Angels began coming to the tea shop regularly. I loved those ladies and I knew they would have my back if I needed them. And with the Jiggs sisters still glaring daggers at me every time I passed, I knew there would be more trouble ahead.

  Max had become a regular, too. He was a big talker, but so far, he hadn’t done much to try to cement our relationship. Who knew? Maybe he never would. Still, I enjoyed having him around.

  Lucy was settling down, even though she still talked about going down to LA to see her friends. And Kashmir—he was a happy cat.

  So life was good. At least for now.

  The End

  Now available! Get it now!

  Sister Witchcraft Book 2~Confessions of a Teenage Slayer

  Thank you for taking the time to read Sister Witchcraft: Bewitched, Bedeviled, and Bewildered. If you enjoyed it, please consider telling your friends or posting a short review. Word of mouth is an author’s best friend and much appreciated.

  Thank you, J.D and Dakota.

  Also by J.D. Winters

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  Moonhaven 2: That Old Witch Magic

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  Cloudy with a Chance of Ghosts

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  About the Authors

  J.D. Winters is a pen name for Helen Conrad, an award-winning, bestselling author of more than 90 romances published under various pseudonyms with Harlequin, Silhouette, Loveswept and others--as well as the extensive series, Destiny Bay Romances. Cozy mysteries are a new venture, less romance, but more fun!

  JD Winters Website

  Dakota Kahn lives and writes on the Central Coast of California, assisted by a large record collection and a meddlesome cat.

  Other Works

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