Chapter 19
Running into Hailey North by chance at the festival would have relied on too much luck for Arthur’s taste, so it was a good thing her booking information included a cell phone number.
“Another point in favor of modern technology,” Sal said, only a little smug, as he typed out a text message.
Worried Sal might be writing all manner of things to their guest, Arthur peered over his shoulder. They needed to maintain a professional relationship with Hailey, even if she was also friendly.
The message read, Greetings to the newest platinum-level witch!
This is Salvatore Conte, co-proprietor of the Dead & Breakfast. Arthur and I have some questions about witchcraft, so of course we thought of you as a source for knowledge of all things witchy.
Since it’s the solstice, I’m sure you’ve got a busy schedule today, but let us know if you can pop by to answer a few questions. It’s life or death, but no pressure.
Well, that wasn’t so bad, except perhaps for the last line, but Sal was ever the melodramatic one, and if Hailey didn’t know that by now, she had only herself to blame.
Once the message was sent, there was little to do but wait. Arthur tidied the common rooms and double-checked he had all the ingredients for dinner and breakfast, all the while mulling over what Martha had told them.
Wilhelmina had visited not too long ago.
Why hadn’t she stayed? The question plagued him all through his routine dusting of the entryway.
A twisting discomfort coiled inside him.
Did Brody know his mother had come to town without visiting?
Or had she tried, only to be turned away by father, if not son?
The more Arthur went over the facts, the more he worried that a family reunion might not be in the cards at the end of all this.
More chilling still were Wilhelmina’s suspicions about her coven leader.
The idea of forbidden magic left a sour taste in Arthur’s mouth, though that might have been the lemonade from Martha’s.
She hadn’t used nearly enough sugar. He wished, not for the first time, that he could question Wilhelmina herself.
What had made her suspect Ambrosia in the first place?
Had it been her timely return to Trident Falls, or something more sinister?
Mid-sweeping of the lobby, Arthur paused.
If Wilhelmina was to be believed, Ambrosia had been planning to return to Trident Falls for a lot longer than the Solstice Festival had been in the works.
That was strange, indeed. He let his broom clatter to the floor without stowing it properly as he hurried to the phone on the front desk.
He dialed Nora’s number from memory. She picked up on the second ring.
“Arthur?” Nora’s voice crackled over the speaker.
Arthur, who’d been poised to announce himself when she answered, was taken aback. “How did you know it was me?”
There was a pause before Nora said, “Because I have your number stored in my phone…and you’re the only one who uses the landline?”
“Oh, of course.” He’d quite forgotten that was possible.
“Is something wrong?”
“Not exactly…but I need some information, if you have a moment?”
Drawn to the potential for gossip, Sal appeared in the doorway of the lobby. “Oh, who are you talking to?”
“Yes, I can talk for”—there was a pause as Nora probably checked her schedule or the time—“two minutes. What’s up?”
“It’s Nora,” Arthur told Sal, who flitted over immediately. “I’ve got you on speakerphone. I wanted to know when you contacted the Celestine Coven about headlining at the festival.”
“Is this about the murder?” Nora asked.
“It might be.” Arthur swatted at his husband as Sal perched atop his workspace. “Sal, I’ve asked you not to sit on the desk. It’s unprofessional.”
“There’s no one here, my love, who’s going to know?” Sal pouted.
“Anybody could walk in. Besides, I just dusted. I don’t want any…butt prints.”
Sal wiggled his eyebrows silently, clearly inspired by the words butt prints.
Nora chuckled on the other end of the line.
“Sal, behave. And you’ve got it wrong, Arthur.
I didn’t reach out to the coven. They contacted us after we went live with our vendor applications for the festival.
We were actually only planning on the festival being two days, but with the Celestine Coven attached, we had a lot more programming available. ”
“So they essentially invited themselves here?” Arthur asked.
“Yes.” There were voices on Nora’s end—it sounded like Quinn, but Arthur couldn’t make out what they were saying. “All right,” she said, muffled, “give me a second. Sorry, Arthur, I’ve got to go, but text me if you have more questions and I’ll do my best.”
“You’ve given us plenty to work with. Thank you.”
They bid her farewell, and Arthur hung up the phone.
“That doesn’t prove Wilhelmina’s theory, but it lends it weight,” Arthur said, and Sal nodded.
The bell above the front door chimed. Arthur glanced at it, then back to Sal, who’d hopped off the desk as if he’d never been sitting there. Arthur didn’t have time to inspect the desk for cleanliness before Hailey North approached, as bubbly as usual.
“Hey! I got your text. There’s a break in coven events, so I thought I’d stop by to help.” Her bright grin faltered. “The life-or-death thing was a joke, right?”
“I’m afraid I never joke,” Sal said in a surprisingly convincing deadpan. “There could be a murderous witch on the loose. Tell us everything you know about forbidden magic.”
Arthur stared at his husband, worried he’d been too forward and would scare Hailey off.
“Wow,” Hailey said. “That’s heavy. You really think another witch could’ve killed Lola Lataurelle?”
She hadn’t run out the door, so perhaps Sal’s gambit would pay off.
“It’s a possibility we’re investigating,” Arthur said.
Hailey nodded slowly. “I don’t personally know any forbidden magic, because, duh, it’s forbidden. But I know where we can get some information.” Rather than walk farther into the Dead & Breakfast, Hailey hitched her large purse higher on her shoulder and turned back to the door.
“Thank you,” Arthur said, hurrying to grab his umbrella on the way out. “It’s kind of you to help us.”
“If someone’s out there using magic for evil, I want to stop them. No, wait. I don’t just want to stop them.” She drew herself up importantly. “It’s my duty. I am a platinum-level witch, after all.”
For the second time in as many days, Arthur found himself unwittingly led to the Trident Falls Public Library.
The main floor was entirely deserted, probably because most locals were at the festival.
Arthur was happy for the privacy. If Ambrosia caught on to what they were researching, she might decide to add three more murders to her running tally.
“I’m not sure how extensive the collection is,” Hailey said as she led them through the nonfiction section. “But hopefully they’ve got a decent selection of books on witchcraft. Here we go.”
She gestured to a shelf of books with titles like Modern Witchcraft, North American Spellcasting of Today and Yesterday, and Witch Please: Magical Myth vs. Fact.
“How did you find this so quickly?” Arthur asked.
Hailey shrugged. “I have the number memorized. My degree is in magical theory, so I practically lived in this section of the university library. I could probably find the witchcraft section of any collection in my sleep.”
“Cool party trick.” Sal’s tone did not give away whether or not the compliment was genuine.
Together they began to search each book for information on forbidden magic.
But as they made their way systematically down the shelf, Arthur’s hope they’d find answers here waned.
Understandably, when the books mentioned any spells that were illegal or taboo, they were vague.
None of them included anything about the possibility of one witch stealing another’s magic.
“Here’s a book about infamous witches through history,” Hailey said. “Do you know what type of forbidden magic the murderer might’ve used on Lola? Maybe we can find something in here.”
Arthur exchanged a glance with Sal. They hadn’t told Hailey specifics for a reason. If they implied that Ambrosia was a fraud who stole her magic, her biggest fan probably wouldn’t take it well.
Speaking carefully, Arthur replied, “We think the person in question might have used a spell to transfer another witch’s magic to themself.”
Hailey gasped. “That’s awful.” She scanned the book’s index. “I don’t see anything like that here. In fact, I’ve never heard of it. Are you sure it’s possible?”
“We’re not, but there’s a missing witch who suspected someone in the coven of doing just that.” Arthur was afraid to give more detail, but luckily Hailey didn’t ask for any. She didn’t have Sal’s penchant for gossip, it seemed.
“Whoa. This is serious…” Hailey trailed off as she returned the book to its proper place on the shelf. “I don’t think we’ll find anything about that sort of forbidden magic here, though.”
“You’re right.”
Arthur jumped, nearly dropping the text in his hands. Paige Turner, Regular Human Librarian, stood behind them, their amethyst eyes unblinking.
“Are you sure?” Arthur asked them, heart sinking. If they couldn’t find the information at the library, he’d have to admit defeat and finally learn how to use Google, though he didn’t want to give Sal the satisfaction.
“There’s nothing like that in circulation here,” Paige said. “However, I might still be able to help. I have a…personal collection.”
“That’s wonderful!” Sal exclaimed. “You’re the most useful librarian I’ve ever met, which is saying something, because once when I was in Egypt, there was this mummy, you see, and—”
Arthur elbowed him in the ribs. Now wasn’t the time for one of Sal’s tall tales. “Any information you have on stealing magic would be very helpful.”