“Let’s get this over with,” she said, peering up at the dark spires of the manor. I grabbed the two boxes of strawberries I’d packed from the trunk and handed one to Tessa.

  “Be nice,” I reminded her. “We’re here to make peace.”

  Tessa popped one of the strawberries into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully.

  “I’ll be perfectly pleasant,” she said. “So long as I can get a box of these afterward. With our powers combined we could make a superb strawberry pie.”

  “We’ll see,” I said with a smile. I took out my cell phone and turned on the flashlight. The battery was almost dead, but I figured it would last until we got inside. We made our way across the road and onto the gravel path that let to Windermere Manor. The crunch of our footsteps mingled with the sound of water lapping on the lake shore and the low croaking of unseen frogs. We reached the gate and Tessa pressed the call button.

  No answer. She tried again.

  “Maybe everyone’s gone to bed already,” I offered. Tessa stood on tip-toes, trying to see over the gate.

  “The lights are still on,” she said. “And...yeah, there’s someone looking down from the window.”

  She prodded the button several times. Still nothing.

  “We came all this way...” Tessa muttered.

  “It’s fine,” I told her. The flashlight on my phone flickered—the battery was just about dead. I held it up to turn it off, shining the light onto the lake shore. Tessa gasped.

  I looked at where the beam was pointing and nearly dropped the box I was holding. Amelia Windermere lay sprawled on the beach, clothes drenched, clearly dead.

  We stood silent, frozen for a moment as my flashlight flickered and then died.

  “Well,” Tessa said slowly. “Don't that beat all.”

  Chapter 6

  “S-so,” I said shakily after a few moments of stunned silence, “Do we call the police?”

  “I...think so?” Tessa said, “That’s what they do in the movies, at least.”

  My phone was completely out of battery. Tessa had left hers with Allie in case there was an emergency. As it turned out, the emergency was on our end. We scrambled back from the beach and tried the call button on the gate a few more times. Still no response.

  We stumbled back to Tessa’s car in the dark and drove out of there as fast as possible.

  “Okay...okay...” Tessa said breathlessly, “But what happened?”

  “I don’t know,” I took a deep breath to steady myself, “I didn’t get a good look. Maybe...maybe we should go back. She might not actually be dead.”

  Tessa shook her head. “Fire magic lets me sense body heat from pretty far away...she’s gone. I don’t think there’s a phone between here and town, by the way, so we might as well head back to my place and call from there.”

  “Sounds good.” I said. We rode in silence the rest of the way, stopping only when we reached Tessa’s building. She and Allie lived behind the restaurant in one of the historic buildings on Market Street. We parked on the street, ran up the stairs, and practically fell into Tessa’s unit. Allie, who had been watching TV, leapt up from the couch.

  “Mom? Aunt Sam? What are you doing?”

  Tessa crossed the room and swept her up in a tight embrace. Allie made a choking noise and wriggled free.

  “Geez, mom.” she said, “What’s wrong? Y’all...don’t look right.”

  “It’s Amelia, sweetheart,” Tessa said gently, “She’s...dead. Sam and I just...”

  I had already snatched up Tessa’s phone. There’s no 911 coverage in Goodsprings, so we’re all taught the 7-digit numbers for the fire station and police when we’re kids. My fingers shook as I entered the number for the Goodsprings police station.

  The station operator said they would send someone out immediately and asked that Tessa and I stop by the station first thing in the morning to give statements. I relayed this to Tessa, who was already putting pillows and blankets out on the couch for me. She made cocoa and her, Allie, and I sat around the table.

  I was struck by a sudden, terrible thought.

  “Mara’s column!” I shouted, making Tessa and Allie jump, “It’s about Amelia’s engagement! We have to tell her to pull it.”

  Tessa swore, snatched up her phone, and called Mara.

  “Mara? Sorry to wake you,” she said quickly. “It’s just...your column for tomorrow? Don’t print it. No, no, nothing for you to worry about right now. You just have to trust me on this.”

  Allie and I waited with bated breath.

  “Thank you, darling. Yes, I promise I’ll explain everything first thing tomorrow. Good night!”

  I sighed and Allie let out a low whistle.

  “That could have been awkward,” she said.

  “Well, that’s about all the excitement I have the strength for,” Tessa said. She pointed at Allie, “Off to bed, you. I let you stay up on account of tragic events, but don’t think you’ll get a free pass the next time someone we know turns up dead.”

  Allie put up just enough of an argument to remind us that she was deep within the throes of adolescence and went to bed muttering. Tessa turned in shortly after and I laid down on the couch, trying to clear my head. It wasn’t easy after a night like that. Fortunately for me, my early morning and adrenaline crash eventually caught up with me and I fell asleep sometime after midnight.

  Chapter 7

  Tessa and I walked down to the police station the next morning, both groggy and disheveled. We were told to wait in the lobby while Chief LaChance was in an “important meeting”.

  “What on earth could be more important than this?” Tessa said, yawning. I had to agree...Goodsprings is a quiet town. The last major crime I remember was when Timmy Williams spray-painted some creative but obscene insults on the side of the courthouse.

  We had been waiting for what felt like forever when Chief LaChance strode out, looking harried.

  “Sorry to keep you ladies waiting,” she said, rifling through a pile of folders she was carrying, “I’m swamped here.”

  “What’s going on, Rose?” Tessa asked, “Is that why I haven’t seen you at the restaurant this week.”

  Chief LaChance nodded and sighed.

  “You probably wouldn’t know,” she said. “But both Officer Michaels and Officer West retired last week. Apparently they’ve decided to go ahead and open that bar they’ve been talking about for the last thirty years. And, while I wish them both the best of luck, they couldn’t have picked a worse time to leave. Now I’m training the new kids and we’ve got all these animal control complaints rolling in, and now Amelia Windermere of all people drowns in her own lake?”

  “Hold up,” Tessa said, “Amelia drowned? Are you sure?”

  “The initial exam found water in her lungs,” LaChance said. “I don’t know what madness compelled her to take a nighttime swim, but there you go.”

  Tessa and I exchanged glances.

  “Now I’m sorry,” LaChance continued. “But I have to make some calls. I’ll introduce you to the new detectives real fast—they’ll be taking your statements.”

  “Detectives?” I asked, “Goodsprings has detectives now?”

  “They were hired on as officers to replace Michaels and West,” LaChance explained. “But they’re both trained homicide detectives. It was quite the deal, really.”

  She led us into another room, where a tall man and equally tall woman stood waiting.

  “Detectives,” LaChance announced. “This is Tessa Smith and Samantha Greene. They’re the ones who found Windermere. Sam, Tessa, these are detectives Gallagher and Gallagher.”

  “Ethan!” I said, recognizing the pale, scruffy man who had inspired yesterday’s smoothie. He grinned and nudged the woman standing beside him.

  “This is the smoothie lady,” he told her. “With the scary co-worker.”

  She raised an eyebrow and gave Tessa and I an appraising look.

  “Nice to see you again, Samantha,” Ethan continued. “This is my sister, Ada. We’re twins.”

  “Yeah no kidding,” Tessa said under her breath. I swallowed a laugh. With the same tousled hair and tired eyes, Ada Gallagher looked every bit the female version of the man I’d met yesterday in my smoothie shop.

  “My brother hasn’t shut up about that smoothie,” she said, extending a hand. “He’s been trying to convince me to run over there for lunch and see for myself.”

  I shook her hand, feeling my face grow warm.

  “That’s too kind,” I said. “Glad it made a good impression.”

  Ethan moved forward to shake Tessa’s hand but she snorted and gave him a pointed look.

  “Oh we met already,” she said. “Or did you not see how you nearly flattened me with a door yesterday?”

  “He saw,” Ada said before Ethan could speak. “That was part of the great smoothie saga I had to listen to last night.”

  It was Ethan’s turn to turn red now, though the color beneath his pale skin barely tinged his face. I don’t know how Yankees stand to live with so little sun up North—it’s unnatural, as far as I’m concerned.

  Ethan tucked his hand away and cleared his throat. “Thanks for the introduction, Chief,” he nodded to LaChance. “We’ve got it from here.”

  LaChance swept out of the room in a flurry of mutters and paperwork and Ethan motioned for us to take a seat at a small, folding table.

  “This shouldn’t take too long,” Ada said evenly, taking a seat on the opposite side of the table. Ethan brought over a couple mugs of lukewarm, burnt-smelling police station coffee and sat down next to her.

  “Let’s start with what I’m most curious about,” Ada continued. “What were you doing out at Windermere Manor when you found Amelia Windermere?”

  Tessa sighed. “We were taking her some fruit.”

  “Fruit?”

  “Yes,” I said. “Strawberries from my garden. Amelia left early from our book club that evening after a disagreement. We wanted to make amends.”

  Ethan and Ada exchanged the briefest of glances.

  “You saw the victim...Windermere, that is...that night?” Ethan asked.

  Tessa nodded slowly. “Yes. At book club.”

  “Book club” was our official cover for coven meetings. Someone walks into the middle of a discussion about augury or casting circles? Book club. A friend wonders why they saw all of us coming out of the Good Eats Grill at midnight? Book club!

  “Book club, huh?” Ada mused. “What book are you reading?”

  “Gone with the Wind.” Tessa and I recited in unison. We’d been 'reading' Gone with the Wind going on two years now. I might even finish it one of these days.

  “And what was the manner of this disagreement,” Ada continued. “If I may ask?”

  “Things got a bit heated when we were discussing our...interpretations.” Tessa said lightly. She took a sip of coffee and made a face. A faint smell of wood smoke and charcoal wafted past my nose...the scent of fire magic. I glanced over and saw that her mug was now steaming. I caught her eye and scowled. Tessa shrugged.

  “We didn’t want to leave things on a sour note,” I said, turning back to the detectives. “So we packed up some of the leftover strawberries and drove them out there. No one answered when we rang at the gate so we made to leave. That’s...that’s when we saw her.”

  “What did she look like,” Ethan said gently. “When you found her?”

  “Um...she was on the beach but her feet were still touching the water,” I said. “Her clothes were soaked through and she was facing toward us.”

  Ada frowned and jotted down some notes on a clipboard.

  “Do you know if Amelia Windermere had been drinking last night?” Ethan asked.

  I shook my head vigorously. Witches are extremely sensitive to the effects of alcohol. If she had had so much as a glass of wine before the meeting, we would have known. I could not, however, account for the time between her dramatic departure and our even more dramatic discovery.

  “I’ll be straight with you,” Ada said, putting down her clipboard and leaning back in her chair. “For all intents and purposes it looks like your friend Amelia drowned. But jumping into a lake, fully clothed, at midnight...is unusual.”

  “Did she ever exhibit...erratic behavior?” Ethan asked.

  “Erratic? No.” Tessa said.

  “And did she have any enemies...that you’re aware of?”

  “Enemies?” I repeated. “Wait. Do you think Amelia was murdered?”

  Tessa sputtered into her coffee.

  “This is Goodsprings,” she coughed. “Not New York or Philadelphia or wherever you’re from. People don’t get murdered here.”

  “Think about it,” Ada said. “Amelia Windermere is the wealthiest person in this town by a long shot. She has business dealings all over the region. Money drives people to do terrible things. That...or she just happened to forget her swimsuit during a perfectly normal midnight swim in a dark lake.”

  Tessa and I looked at each other, stunned. We’d known that Amelia’s death made no sense and had come to the police station hoping for answers. Now there were more questions than anything. I couldn’t wrap my head around the idea of a murder in Goodsprings...I had never heard of one happening. Not in this century, at least.

  “We don’t know for sure, obviously,” Ada continued. “But we definitely suspect foul play and will need to proceed carefully. So I know you two will understand if we proceed with questioning you separately, just to get the clearest idea of the events surrounding Amelia Windermere’s last hours.”

  She escorted Tessa to the interrogation room while Ethan and I remained seated. He ran through a series of questions about my relationship with Amelia, what she said that night, and what I knew about her day-to-day. I answered everything to the best of my knowledge, though I was careful to swap any mention of the coven with “book club”. I could only hope that Tessa did the same, lest we end up with a larger problem on our hands.

  “Was there anyone else there,” he asked at one point, “When you found the body?”

  “Just Tessa and I,” I said, “But it was dark...”

  I shuddered, realizing that someone could have been there the whole time for all we knew, watching from the trees.

  “Last question,” Ethan said. “You say you only saw Amelia Windermere about once a month, for book club. Do you happen to know who her usual associates are? Who she spends the most time with?”

  “Let’s see,” I said, thinking. “Her sister Bella visits a lot...and her niece Lily lives at Windermere Manor with her. She’s friendly with the Thorntons...I know they have dinner often. There’s her business partner, Marty or Martin? I don’t know the last name...”

  Ethan scratched some notes on his clipboard.

  “Oh!” I exclaimed, remembering what Mara had told us last night. “And her fiance...um...”

  “Thomas?” Ethan offered, “Yes, we spoke to him on the phone last night. We have a formal conversation lined up this afternoon.”

  He stood up, tucking the clipboard under one arm. I followed suit. We walked back to the lobby, where Tessa and Ada stood chatting.

  “Thank you, Samantha,” Ethan said, shaking my hand. “We appreciate you coming in. I know it must’ve been a bad night for you, so I hope you can get some rest today.”

  He extended a hand to Tessa, who accepted it this time.

  “We’ll be in touch,” Ada said, pulling her twin brother away. “Be safe.”

  Chapter 8

  I had considered going straight home from the police station and taking the day off but the thought of leaving David alone on what was sure to be a busy summer day made me reconsider. There are some things even the Tank can’t withstand. The rest of my morning and early afternoon oozed by in a sleepy haze of oppressive summer heat, iced coffee, and the whir of blenders. I was feeling significantly peppier (thanks to a massive amount of caffeine and David’s contagious good mood) by the time the lunch rush died down, enough so that I didn’t mind that Phineas Lichen had spent the entire day on the patio chatting with Ronald Williams, a local craw fisherman. Neither of them had purchased so much as a shot of wheat-grass

  I saw Ronald at the market almost every week during craw-fish season, selling craw-fish by the pound and serving up samples from his boiling pot. He rarely had time to stop by the shop, but when he did he always ordered the same thing.

  I tossed some mango slices and strawberries into a blender, poured in some Valentine orange juice and a dollop of coconut yogurt, and finished it off with a pinch of orange zest and a handful of ice. The finished product was a slushy, coral-colored Mango-Getter, one of Happy Blending’s most popular smoothies. I have found that an ice-cold Mango-Getter is extremely effective at turning a bad day around. I poured the contents into two cups, carried them out to the patio, and set them in front of Mr. Lichen and Ronald Williams.

  “How is it, gentlemen?” I asked.

  “Very good, Miss Greene,” Ronald said, standing up quickly, “Just out here enjoying the sun.”

  Beads of sweat ran down his forehead and his lips were shiny with sunburn.

  Mr. Lichen squinted up at me.

  “It’s the middle of summer,” he observed, gesturing at nothing in particular, “All these kids should be at the lake, dontcha think?”

  “The lake is closed today, Mr. Lichen.” I said.

  “I know,” he shook his head. “We’re talkin’ about it. Whole town’s talkin’ about it. Amelia Windermere, huh? Seems ironic. Still don’t see why they had to close the whole darn lake.”

  “I should be going,” Ronald said, pushing in his chair. “It was nice to see you, Miss Greene.”

  “And you,” I said, picking up the Mango-Getter I had made for him. “Take it for the road. I know it’s your favorite.”

 

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