whiskey witches 01 - whisky witches (12 page)

People actually drove the speed limit here. Amazing.

She quietly slipped inside the shop. She saw the normal things she’d expect to see in an occult shop; candles, incense, pentacles, books. There was a book about deciphering dreams using the messages of angels on display at the counter.

“How may I—oh, Detective Whiskey.” A lithe woman with clear brown skin stepped up behind the counter and sent her a warm smile. “I’d heard you were in town.”

“I didn’t realize anyone would be talking about me,” Paige baited.

The other woman’s large brown eyes lit up. Her full hair spilled over her shoulders in tight, dark brown waves. “It’s a small town. Everyone’s talking about your arrival. Are you okay? I heard you were poisoned at the crime scene.”

Paige raised her chin, a smile on her lips. Reason number one why she didn’t want to live in a small town. Everyone knew when she’d messed up. “I’m fine.”

“We were all worried. Fanny said you sounded possessed. What kind of poison was it?”

Malika was nosy, but Paige had been warned Fanny was the town gossip, so that wasn’t cause for alarm. She needed something more. “We’re still waiting on the toxicology report.”

“And you were able to counter it without knowing what it was first?” Malika’s smile tightened, bringing out her sharp cheekbones. “That doesn’t make much sense.”

Malika’s smile was a little too tight. Was that her tell? “We got lucky. I guess I threw most of it up.”

“It’s a good thing you brought your own doctor, then.”

Paige held the other woman’s gaze a long moment. “Indeed.”

Malika released an uncomfortable breath and looked over Paige’s shoulder. “Is this him?”

Paige turned.

Dexx took a step forward, careful not to bring down the glass shelf of crystal balls. “The place is tight. Dexx Colt.”

“Doctor Colt?”

Dexx cocked a grin to the side, taking the hand she offered.

“Well.” She turned his hand over, exposing the palm. “Let me see what your hand has to tell me.”

Dexx kept his expression pleasant as he waited. He glanced at Paige, but returned his attention to the top of Malika’s head.

“You are a very driven man, Doctor Colt,” Malika said, her voice soft and silky. “Love is about to enter your life. As well as a new position at work.”

He raised an eyebrow, pulling the corners of his lips down through his smile. He took his hand back. “It didn’t say who the lucky woman was, did it?”

Malika beamed at him. “No. Tell me you’re looking for something. We have a wide array of candles that just came in.”

“I was just looking for a toad candle,” Dexx said with a laugh.

“Oh. Well, you should check the far corner of the store. I have all kinds of humorous gifts there.”

Dexx gestured with his hand and headed where she directed him.

“What about you, Detective Whiskey? Do you have a first name I can call you by? It seems so formal to call you by your job title.”

“Detective.”

Malika winced.

Paige ground her teeth through her smile, reminding herself she was plying the other woman for information. Honey versus vinegar. “Paige.”

“Excellent. What are you looking for, Paige?” Malika stepped around the counter. The light breeze of her passing caused her blue summer dress to swirl around her limber form.

“My sister has a birthday coming up.”

“Oh, the medium.”

Paige narrowed her eyes. She really needed to know how much of this was Fanny’s gossip and how much Malika had discovered on her own. Damn gossips.

Malika scanned her shop, oblivious to Paige’s scrutiny. “I don’t think she’d like any of this.”

The area Malika referenced was filled with stuff Paige would never see in a west coast occult shop. If she had to wager a guess, she’d say it was probably voo-doo, but she wasn’t going to open her mouth and insert her foot. “No. She’s more . . .”

“She’s white,” Malika said with a smile.

Paige returned it. For as uncomfortable as this conversation was, there was a lot of smiling going on. “Very white.”

Malika meandered toward the front of the store. “Do you know what you want to get her?”

“Mrs. Fort had a tarot deck I thought Les might like.”

“Ashley?” Malika frowned and a second later, grief crept through her eyes. “Mike didn’t tell me you’d had a chance to review her things.”

Delayed reaction. “I saw it in a photo.”

“That’s odd, but anyway. She had two.”

“I don’t remember what they were called. The one was very colorful, though.” Half of the decks on the market could be classified as colorful.

“Oh, I know which one you’re talking about.” Malika’s expression darkened minutely as she turned away. “I like that one. Very simple, yet very deep.”

“That sounds like something Les would be into.”

Malika stooped to look at the decks located on the bottom shelf.

“How are you holding up?”

The other woman stood, a tarot box in her hand. “With the craziness that has struck our tiny town?”

“With the fact your friends are being killed one by one.”

Malika’s shoulders tightened.

“Aren’t you scared you might be next?”

“The coven was something we tried to keep hidden from the public.” Malika looked out the storefront window. “This is a very Christian town, Paige. Even in the twenty-first century, we have to be careful.”

Paige nodded. “I’m well aware of that.”

“You would be, wouldn’t you?” Malika moved away from the window to face Paige.

“Yes.”

“I’m doing fine, I think. I mean, I hope that you catch him.” Something flashed across her features, too fast for Paige to register what it was. “Whoever he is so I don’t lose anyone else.”

“Do you know who might be targeting you? Anyone have a grudge against you? Or maybe someone who wants to, I don’t know, do away with the witches?”

“Do you realize what a breath of fresh air you are, Detective? Someone on the force who understands what it means to be a witch?”

Was she being diverted because she was getting too close or because her quarry was bored with the line of questions? “I’m here now. I can help if you help me.”

“You’ve met the people here, Paige. They might be Christian, but they’re good people.”

“Even good people can do stupid things when they’re scared. Anyone threaten you? Is there anyone who’s a little extra pushy on the Bible thing?”

“No. For the first time, I’ve found a place that actually feels like home.”

Could this be the reason so many magickal people were in one place?

“Besides, who do you know that would ‘convert’ us, then spread ceremonial symbols everywhere?”

“Point.” Paige dipped her chin in agreement, though her mind wandered down channels that gave reason to those very actions. Like the man who started fires so he could become a fire fighter, the person who kidnapped his daughter so he could save her.

“Who do you think this person is trying to summon?”

“What do you mean?” The hairs stood up on the back of Paige’s neck. How much did the other woman know and how deep was she on the murders?

“It’s not a god or a demigod. It doesn’t feel like they’re trying to raise the fae.”

Who still believed in fairies? What next? Unicorns?

“What about a demon?” Malika’s eyes rounded, everything in her expression said “sincere.”

So why were Paige’s spidy senses tingling? “Demon. What makes you think that? All the symbols are benign.”

“I’ve heard about this stuff happening before.”

“Demons don’t need sacrifices.”

“They don’t scoff at them, either.” Malika shrugged. “It was just a thought. The magick seems hurtful, ugly, dirty.”

Blood magick often did, but how did she know that?

“Oh, hey,” Malika said, her voice filled with concern. “That’s Mia. It looks like she has her daughter this weekend.”

A blonde haired woman and her daughter crossed the street in front of the store.

“It was awful. About a year ago, Ron was sent to jail and his mother filed for custody. Took her away from Mia, claiming she was unfit. What’s the girl’s name? Lenore?”

Paige turned away, waiting for Malika to slip. She just needed the other woman to slip one time.

“Leah?”

Rage slammed into Paige like a wave, nearly bowling her over. The candle in her hand shook.

“Leah?” Malika stepped into Paige’s line of sight, obvious interest splashed across her face.

Regaining control, Paige set the candle on the glass shelf with a clank so loud it sounded like the shelf might break. She had what she’d come for. Malika really was on it. Any further questioning, though, would get her nowhere. The maniacal gleam shining through her eyes. That’s what she’d seen before and could put her finger on.

“No. LeAnn. That’s it.”

“I think I’m done here.” Paige gestured to the box in Malika’s hands. “Leslie will like this.”

The other woman smiled, something dark slithering behind her gaze.

Paige had her suspect to rights. Next, she needed to discover what Jones knew.

She accepted the challenge.

“Y
OU READY?”

She nodded to Chief White.

Without further ado, he led her through the small station and into the back room. A single, metal table sat in the middle, three chairs around it, the walls bare.

Paige sighed took the lone chair on the one side, her eyebrows raised. “Really? The interrogation room?”

He sat in the chair opposite her. He kept his hand at waste level and pointed to the one-way mirror behind him. “No phones.”

She gave him the barest of nods. “Any particular reason why?”

“Bad reception.”

Paige ran her tongue along her molars. “So, how is this going to play?”

“Are you feeling well?”

“You honestly think you’re going to trick me into just spilling my guts to you if you’re nice to me? I’ve been on that side of the table, Chief. I know how this works.”

The door opened. Jones sauntered in, settling in the chair that sat in the corner.

“I just want to know what happened at the shack.”

“Mold.” She crossed her arms over her chest. She’d used that excuse before, not that it was a good one, but with mold, everyone reacted differently. Allergies, hallucinogens, and poisonings came from mold, so it wasn’t bad. “I’m fine now.”

“Are you sure?”

“What are we doing here, guys?”

“We’re just . . .” White’s lips flattened as he leaned back in his chair. “ . . . having a conversation.”

“That’s cute.” Paige kicked her feet up on the table. “Jones, how are you emotionally tied to this case?”

He smiled and blinked, as if buying himself time. “Ashley was my friend.”

She needed him to admit something that would make the chief understand his guilt. Though, smiling at the fact that his “best friend” was dead was a pretty big red flag in her book.

“What’s that?” Jones pointed to her bare arm.

“What?” She raised it so he could see it better. “Oh, you mean this?”

“A protection rune,” he muttered. “Interesting.”

White frowned at it. “Protection against what?”

“Mold.” She watched Jones for any tale-tell reactions. “You see, it only allows the mold in so far, then it gets stopped and pushed back out.”

Jones bit his lip. “I take it the mold is out.”

Paige tipped her head.

White’s jaw ticked as he fisted one hand, his gaze falling to the table.

Good. He was following along, but was it enough? They needed a trail to follow. Jones wasn’t the mastermind. He couldn’t be.

Jones gestured toward the sigil. “Did you have this on at the shack?”

Paige shook her head. “It’s new.”

“Permanent?”

“We’ll see how well it works.”

White took in several heavy breaths.

“Am I under arrest?”

“You can leave at any time,” White said.

“Good to know.” She took that to mean he had what he needed. She, however, didn’t. “Jones, where were you when your best friend was murdered?”

Jones snorted. “You’re not asking the questions here.”

“I thought we were just having a conversation.” She opened her arms, palms up. “In the interrogation room.”

Jones chuckled and rubbed his arm. “I was with Malika, my fiancé.”

White’s eyebrows flickered.

Paige rapped her knuckles against her jean-clad knee. “Where?”

“At her house.”

“Is that where you killed your best friend?”

His eyelids lowered minutely, his smile locked in place. “I didn’t kill her.”

“You let Malika do that for you? Was it for a spell of some sort?”

“You have no evidence.”

White’s face lost its pallor.

She had him. “I think you and I both know I don’t need evidence.”

White cleared his throat. “Detective.”

“Chief.” She mimicked his tone.

Jones studied her arm, rubbing his chin.

Paige ran her finger along the rune. She could stop all this nonsense. She could summon Balnore, have him appear right there in the room, and all this would stop.

Her eyes drifted toward the ceiling as she folded her hands behind her head. Cameras. They were videotaping the entire conversation. As much as she was tempted, she had to be careful what she admitted on tape.