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  “She was an old woman,” Gran shot back.

  “Yeah, but she’s a witch. She had magic to protect herself with,” Monica pointed out. “So whoever it was either had magic too, or was physically stronger than her and surprised and subdued her before she had a chance to use her magic.”

  “Did you find her wand?” Jenna asked and I shrugged.

  “I didn’t see it in the attic, and I assume if it was in the kitchen or on her body, the police would have it. I guess I can ask Jackson.”

  “Her wand would be with her. At all times,” Gran said.

  “Then it has to be at the police station,” I replied. “Does it matter?”

  “The wand might help you locate the grimoire,” Gran said, then swung her oversized, rainbow-colored crochet purse over her shoulder. “Let’s go!”

  “Go where?” I sighed, just a little fazed by her energy and apparent lack of concern that she was on the hook for murder.

  “To go and pay our respects to the Crescent Coven, of course.” I must have had a puzzled look on my face because Gran sighed dramatically and spoke slowly and loudly, as if I were impaired.

  “We go see Delores Lane, who is now head witch of the Crescent Coven. Say how sorry we are about Bonnie. Ask questions about Bonnie and Bernice dating Vernon.”

  I couldn’t believe it. Gran actually had a good idea and both Jenna and Monica looked a little taken aback as well.

  “Right. Yes. We should take some flowers,” I said, pushing myself off the desk and grabbing for my bag.

  “I’m going to do some digging into Blake Tennant,” Jenna said.

  “I’m going to get some sleep. I’ll see y’all at the ball tonight,” Monica said, pulling on her sun shielding apparel. The annual ball was one of the few nights of the year where everything else closed down, which meant Monica, who was a bartender at Brewed Awakening, got the night off.

  We selected a bouquet of colorful wildflowers wrapped with a pretty yellow bow, and Gran held them on her lap while I drove us to Delores Lane’s house. Delores’ house wasn’t too far from Bonnie’s, just a few blocks to the north, and as I pulled up out the front, I admired the dove gray federation house with white trim. Red brick pavers led up to the porch steps, lush lawn on either side and ample trees and shrubbery.

  The first step creaked underfoot as I stepped up, alerting the entire neighborhood it seemed of our presence, for there was a flurry of activity. Front doors opened, curtains twitched, and a shiver ran up my spine. Why did I feel like we were in enemy territory?

  The solid black door swung open just as I raised my fist to knock.

  “Harper. Alice. What an unexpected surprise,” Delores Lane greeted us. Delores was as tall as she was round. Each time I saw her, I thought of the childhood nursery rhyme Humpty Dumpty.

  “We’ve come to pay our respects and say how sorry we were to hear of Bonnie’s passing.” I waited for Gran to hand over the flowers and when she didn’t, I nudged her, hard. “Gran! Flowers!”

  Gran held out the flowers and Delores stared at them, but didn’t make a move to take them from Gran, making the entire encounter incredibly awkward. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought Gran with me. Maybe this was a bad idea.

  “I’m sorry to bother you,” I apologized, grabbing Gran’s wrist, and was turning away, intent on a hasty retreat, when Delores spoke.

  “Won’t you come in?”

  I froze. That was unexpected. Turning back to her, I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile and nodded my head. “Thank you.”

  The interior of Delores’ house was as delightful as the exterior. Dark wooden floors accentuated by white walls and trim. Simple furniture with clear-cut lines and minimal clutter.

  “Let’s get this out of the way right up front,” Gran said, following Delores into the sitting room. “I did not kill Bonnie.”

  “Of course you’d say that.” Delores crossed her arms and frowned at Gran.

  “Why would I kill that old bag of bones?” Gran demanded, voice rising. “Nothing in it for me, except a jail cell. And honestly, her angel food cake is not that good—never understood what all the fuss was about.”

  “How dare you!” Delores straightened her shoulders, her cheeks flushing red.

  “Gran! Go and wait in the car!” I pointed toward the front door and Gran looked from the door to me and back again.

  “You can’t be serious?” she asked incredulously.

  “I’m dead serious. Go. I’ll be out in a minute.”

  She eyeballed me for a minute, but I didn’t back down, not even when that steel-like stare cut through me and made me doubt the wisdom of my actions. A small grin curled her lips. “Fine.”

  She swung on her heel and stomped out, slamming the front door behind her.

  “I do apologize,” I said to Delores who was now grinning at me.

  “No need. Alice and our coven go way back. Sit, child.” She waved at the cream-colored sofa and I obediently sank into its plush depths.

  “I know Gran can be brash and come off as rude—” I began, but Delores cut me off.

  “When I said Alice and our coven go way back, I meant it. I’ve known Alice forever. And I know she didn’t kill Bonnie, that’s not Alice’s style at all. Where’s the fun in beating her in the Decadent Desserts competition if she’s dead?”

  I visibly relaxed my tense shoulders, relieved beyond measure that Delores believed Gran was innocent.

  “So, I assume you’re really here to try and find out who did kill Bonnie?” She pulled her wand from the pocket of her smock and waved it. Two glasses of iced tea appeared on the coffee table.

  “Well, I’m here to pay my respects, but yes, that too,” I admitted, leaning forward to pick up a glass. Delores followed suit, taking a sip of the sweet, refreshing drink.

  “What can I do? How can I help?” Clasping the glass to her bosom with pudgy fingers, she looked at me over the rim.

  “We’ve reason to believe that Bonnie was dating Vernon Garza,” I said. Delores blinked. “And Bernice Kemp. At the same time,” I added.

  Delores looked uncomfortable. “Oh dear. We had hoped to keep that quiet,” she breathed, picking at the hem of her smock. “That was most unfortunate.”

  “Can you tell me what happened?”

  “Do the police know?” she asked and I nodded. “Then I guess it’s only a matter of time before it gets out.”

  She sighed, taking a sip of tea. “It seems Vernon has been a bit of a cad. He told Bonnie that he and Bernice were no longer seeing each other, so when he asked her out, she said yes. They had a handful of dates, but Bonnie became suspicious when they never went anywhere public. She suspected something was amiss. When she confronted him with it, he confessed that he’d lied—he was still dating Bernice.”

  “That couldn’t have gone down well,” I said sympathetically.

  Delores grimaced. “Thankfully, not so much a case of a broken heart but wounded pride. Bonnie ended things with him and that’s all there was to it.”

  “Did Bernice know? That he’d been dating Bonnie?”

  “Only afterward. When Bonnie threatened Vernon that if he didn’t tell her, she would. Bonnie felt Bernice had the right to know the type of man he was, and that if she chose to continue seeing him? Well, then it was a fully-informed decision.”

  “And did she?” I pressed. “Continue seeing him?”

  Delores bowed her head in apparent dejection. “She did. Lord only knows why. Once a cheater always a cheater.”

  “And this happened recently?”

  Tears welled in Delores eyes as she nodded. “A couple of weeks back.” She sniffed. “There was such a kerfuffle within the coven, witches taking sides and being mad at Bernice, that Bonnie organized a healing ceremony, to mend any rifts. She had no hard feelings toward Bernice—none of what happened was her fault. Only…” She trailed off.

  Only Bonnie had been killed before the ceremony could take place.

  “So, when your gran
ddaughter arrived to pick Bonnie up, it was for the healing ceremony? Not a blessing ceremony for the Decadent Desserts competition?”

  “That’s right. The blessing ceremony was meant to be last night. Of course, now we have no entry, so it’s a moot point.”

  “I’m very sorry.” It was truly awful what had happened to Bonnie and I could feel Delores’ grief as if it were my own. I finished my drink and rose to my feet, extending a hand to her. “Thank you for talking with me today.”

  She accepted it, and then winked. “Of course. Please don’t consider this a truce between our covens. The fun and games must continue.”

  With that, she pulled at her wand and tapped my shoulder with it. I was immediately swarmed by a hundred moths.

  “Argh!” Swatting at my head and cringing as they flew into my hair, I ran out of her house, arms waving like a mad person.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Gran asked. She wasn’t in the car as instructed, but standing by the bird bath in Delores’ front garden.

  “Moths!” I yelled, still waving and swatting. Gran laughed. “There are no moths, Harper. She got you, huh?”

  I stopped my uncoordinated moth dance and dropped my arms to my sides. I’d messed up my hair and could feel it in a tangled mess around my head. Oh yeah. Delores had gotten me good. I grinned, then sobered.

  “What are you doing?” I asked suspiciously, heading toward Gran. She’d moved to block my view of the bird bath.

  “Nothing. Come on, let’s get going. You have to collect the keys to the lighthouse cottage, don’t you?”

  She grabbed my arm and steered me away, back toward the car. I tried to crane my neck over my shoulder, but I couldn’t see what she’d done to the bird bath. Considering the spell Delores had just bestowed on me, I decided to let it slide.

  Chapter Eight

  The town hall looked amazing, decorated with swathes of fabric hanging from the center of the ceiling out to the sides, and then down the walls. It reminded me of the Arabian nights. Fairy lights were pinned to the fabric and dry ice pumped out over the floor, adding just the right amount of mystery and magic.

  Standing in the doorway, I watched as Gran sashayed across the room, her massive hoop skirt swaying. Tonight, she resembled Scarlett O’Hara from Gone with the Wind—except for the heavy blue glitter eyeshadow, that is.

  Jenna spotted me and hurried over, taking both my hands in hers. She looked me up and down. “You look amazing!”

  “Thank you.” I beamed. I was in my ruby red strapless gown, my hair artfully pinned to the top of my head with soft tendrils escaping the pins to rest against my neck. My makeup was on point with winged eyeliner and lips the same shade as my dress. In my hands was my silver clutch with lipstick, keys, and cell phone inside. I had no room for anything else and I wasn’t making the same mistake again—I would always carry my phone and keys with me rather than checking them.

  “You look pretty good yourself.” Jenna was in a midnight blue gown that accentuated her blonde hair and blue eyes to perfection. “Is Monica here yet?”

  “She was over with the band a second ago.” Jenna pointed and I turned to see Monica in a stunning, skintight dress that clung to her curves from her neck down to her ankles. It was jet black but had a slight shimmer to it, and with her dark hair left loose to cascade down her back, she was a walking dream.

  On the stage with the band was a trestle table with the Decadent Desserts entries displayed, and a microphone center stage. Whitefall Cove’s big night had arrived and judging by the number of people here, the whole town had turned out.

  “Are you okay?” Jenna asked, linking her arm through mine and guiding us across the smoky floor toward the bar.

  “I’m fine.” I smiled, but I felt it pull on my face like a drying face mask. Tight and uncomfortable.

  Jenna stopped. “What is it? Has something else happened?”

  “No, nothing like that,” I assured her. “It’s just, I haven’t been able to get hold of Mom or Dad. Gran told me I’m being a worrywart over nothing, they’re probably in the air or catching some sleep on a layover somewhere. I just kinda hoped they’d be here by now, you know?”

  Jenna rubbed a hand up and down my back in a comforting gesture. “You must miss them. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

  “Too long,” I agreed. Although we’d kept in touch with video calls, it had been over two years since we’d seen each other in person. Video just wasn’t the same.

  “Ladies.” We were interrupted by Jackson, who appeared in front of us looking jaw-droppingly gorgeous in a black tux, his wavy brown hair brushing his collar and his green eyes sparkling. My mouth watered in appreciation.

  “Hi, Jackson,” Jenna responded for both of us, “Liliana not with you?”

  He shrugged, sliding his hands in his pockets. “She’s around here somewhere. Can I get you two a drink?”

  “Champagne would be great.” I found my voice. And wouldn’t you know, as soon as I’d said it, two glasses of champagne appeared before Jackson could even move.

  “Your wish is my command,” Blake drawled, handing a glass to me and the other to Jenna. “Ladies”—he inclined his head—“you look stunning this evening.”

  His dark eyes devoured me from head to toe. Forget mouthwatering, my ovaries literally exploded at the sight of him. Despite wearing a tux identical to Jackson, who wore it well, Blake wore it ten times better.

  “Thank you.” Jenna beamed. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced. I’m Jenna Owens.”

  “Blake Tennant,” he replied, shaking her hand before I could gather my wits and introduce them properly. I’d been too busy having an internal argument with my wayward reproductive organs to remember my manners.

  “Didn’t expect to see you here tonight,” Jackson said to Blake, his voice distinctly chilly.

  “I’ve still got business in town…and I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” Blake drawled, his dark eyes flicking to Jackson and dismissing him.

  “Any idea when Gran’s case will be?” I asked. She was on bail, not off the hook, and I felt the weight of it hanging over me.

  “As soon as I know, you’ll know,” he replied, taking a sip of his own champagne and watching me over the rim of the glass. Feeling myself flush under his gaze, I took a hefty gulp. The bubbles went up my nose and the champagne went down the wrong pipe, burning all the way. Coughing and choking, with my eyes streaming, I tried to catch my breath while not spilling my drink, very conscious of the fact I’d just made an absolute twat out of myself.

  Jenna took my glass while Blake rubbed my back. How embarrassing. With a throat full of razor blades, I rasped, “Going to the ladies’,” and took off as if the hounds of hell were after me. Busting through the bathroom door, my coughs had subsided and I cleared my throat a couple of times before looking at myself in the mirror above the vanity unit. Thankfully, my mascara and eyeliner had stayed put. I dabbed at the dampness beneath my eyes with a tissue and was just finishing up when Jenna arrived.

  “You okay?” she asked with concern.

  “I’m fine. Went down the wrong way,” I explained, smoothing my palms down my thighs.

  “So, while I have you alone…” she began, and I gave her my full attention. “Sounds ominous.”

  She fluffed her hair in the mirror. “It’s not. Just wanted to let you know that I looked into Blake Tennant today. He’s legit. Definitely a partner. Why he accepted Gran’s case, I cannot say. As for the Jones member of the law firm, he—or she—is a silent partner who doesn’t practice law. I’ve not been able to find out any information on who that might be, your father or not.”

  “Thanks for trying, Jenna.” I hugged her, then held her away from me. “I don’t want to worry about any of this tonight. Tonight is about having fun. I can hear the music has started, let’s go dance. I refuse to hide out in the bathroom.”

  We exited the bathroom to find the dance floor filling up. The band’s first set was jazz. Looking aroun
d, I spotted Blake at the bar, one elbow resting on it as he perused the room. Spotting me, he raised his hand, indicating he held my champagne glass. Jackson was nowhere to be seen, swallowed up by the swarm of bodies.

  “I can’t dance to this,” Jenna complained. “Let’s wait for the next set. How about we try again with that drink, huh? This time, swallow it, don’t snort it up your nose.”

  “Ha ha.” I followed her across the floor to where Blake waited, and could feel him watching me every step of the way. It was unnerving and exhilarating, all at the same time.

  “Better?” he asked, handing me my drink.

  “Much. Thank you.”

  He looked me up and down, his eyes doing a slow, thorough appraisal.

  “Red looks good on you.” The corner of his mouth quirked up.

  “It matches my cheeks.” Oh great. Brilliant response, Harper. Blake raised one dark eyebrow at me.

  “I meant, because I was red in the face from choking. Not that I go around with a red face all the time. Except when I’m around you, I mean, I feel like I’ve got constant heat in my face whenever I run into you.” Oh. My. God. Shut up, Harper! I took a breath, fixed him with a dazzling smile, and asked, “So what are you doing here?”

  “Alice invited me.”

  “She did?” I squeaked. Great. I was back to chipmunk voice. Jenna looked at me with a slightly horrified expression on her face, most likely wondering what the hell I was doing. Normal, intelligent, and most of all, articulate Harper Jones was reduced to a babbling incoherent mess around one slick city lawyer. Taking pity on me, she distracted Blake with a series of law questions, since she was an avid Law & Order fan. I listened in, nodded where appropriate, and sipped my champagne, careful not to bring on another coughing fit.

  Eventually, the band took a break and a woman dressed in a stylish plum-colored tuxedo, complete with top hat, took center stage.

  “Good evening, everyone!” she said into the microphone, her voice loud and clear. “Welcome to the Whitefall Cove Annual Ball and Fundraiser. My name is Donna DeGloria and I’ll be your MC for this evening.”