“I like gold,” Julian said.

  Of course, he did, with an owner like my mother it was hardly a surprise they had a similar taste in what they liked the most. “You saw the one Eva gave me, right?”

  “Briefly,” she said, feeding her familiar seeds from her palm. “Why?”

  “Because I just said. I found another inside Nigel’s house.”

  “Oh, right, right.”

  The conversation came to a pause as two mugs of hot tea, suspended in mid-air came floating through the living room. They lowered themselves onto coasters on the coffee table. I reserved myself from making any remarks.

  “There’s a clear connection between what Nora is looking for and what happened to Nigel,” I said.

  “How?”

  “The coins,” I said from a rasp in the back of my throat, strained from stress. “We were talking about the gold coins.”

  “Not real gold though,” she said.

  I wasn’t an expert in gold, but from the way Nora gnawed her teeth into one, leaving a small indentation, it was a sign of fake gold. “Well, what do you know about brownies?”

  My mother scoffed. “Nothing,” she replied. “Ask your grandmother.”

  I would, but she’d probably come and visit if I tried, and I knew once she was here and with my mother in the picture, there’d be more than one death in the village. They couldn’t stand each other. “Maybe I’ll check my book when I’m home,” I said, sipping the sweet tea.

  “I mean, I know brownies are house-dwelling creatures,” she said. “Your mother had a few of them around the house when we lived in the north.”

  “I thought you’d always lived below the Midlands,” I said.

  She chuckled. “During your life we have,” she said. “It’s dreadfully cold in the north.”

  The thought wasn’t pleasant, I didn’t want to think about how much colder it could’ve been. While I hadn’t travelled as much as my mother, nor had I lived in exotic heat like her, I still had a low tolerance for the cold.

  “I should head home,” I said, finishing the tea. “August will be beside himself if I’m not there soon.”

  “That’s your fault for raising a house cat.”

  There she went, playing the blame game. “He’s perfectly fine,” I said, stroking a hand through my hair. I knew there were plenty of benefits to having him indoors, including keeping him out of harm’s way. “I’ll see you tomorrow, perhaps.”

  “Well, don’t do anything silly before I see you,” she replied. “I know how impulsive you can be.”

  “Impulsive?” I smirked, looking around the house I was in. “I wonder where I get that from.”

  Once I was home, I had time to reflect and process what had happened through the day. August didn’t bother me while he stuffed his cheeks with tuna steak in his dish. I had a small plate of rice and a breaded fish cake for supper, I was still balancing out for the mountains of cake I’d been tasting over the weekend.

  I had the handwritten letter to Nigel in my bag, alongside the two coins. They were both fake, but they were identical, and what were the chances of there being multiple brownies this far south, even though Nora had at first made it sound like this was an outbreak instead of an isolated incident.

  With my book of shadows open on the kitchen counter, I flipped through pages to find the one I’d copied from my grandmother’s book. It was all information I already knew.

  Brownies

  Classification: Creature

  Group: Fairy, Household Spirit

  Location: Northern England and Scotland

  Habitat: House-Dwelling

  Nature: Benevolent

  Description: Brownies are unseen by the human eye and untrained witches. They help around dwellings in which they reside. They’re known to steal small trinkets and leave breadcrumbs, commonly coins or undesirable items they’ve acquired like rocks. Brownies have an earthly connection and can move between homes with their tether.

  Alongside my book of shadows, I lined the two coins and the letter from the envelope.

  “What are you doing?” August asked from the floor.

  “Figuring out what happened?”

  “Still?” he groaned, flopping his weight to the side, resting against the cupboard.

  “Yes,” I said, watching him in a daze, drunk on all the food he’d managed to wolf down within minutes of it being plated. “I’ll be in bed once I’ve done some searching.”

  “I don’t think I can—even—” he yawned, “walk—up the—stairs.” He slipped to the side, resting on his back with his paws in the air. A large grunting snore escaped his small mouth.

  I held the letter to the kitchen light; the last name was faint. Someone had gone through the trouble of rubbing it out. I rummaged through my bag for a pencil and paper.

  I placed the nib of the pencil on the letter and lightly shaded the area. The last name was quickly revealed.

  Drummond.

  I’d never seen the last name before, at least not after Nigel’s name. Nigel Drummond. It could’ve been an old name, but he’d always been Nigel Whisker.

  From my notepad, I cross-referenced all the names that had been suspects, but there was no connection.

  It was a dead end.

  CHAPTER 13

  I found myself at work the following morning extra early. It came as a huge shock to Abi and Ralph as they entered and stopped in their tracks to see me set the coffee machine off with a grinding whirr.

  “I’ve had a lot on my mind,” I said.

  “It’s nice to see you in,” Ralph chuckled.

  A thin smile crossed my lips. “The best way to beat the week is to meet it bright and early.”

  “After everything that happened over the weekend, I think people will be happy to see it’s all over with,” Abi said, taking off her thick winter coat. “Did you put the heating on?”

  “Already on it,” I replied.

  There was more than a well-rested feeling as to why I was in the café early. I had to begin putting stronger wards in place. While Ralph and Abi prepared to open the café, I stepped into the backroom to gather pieces of black tourmaline.

  Most of the stone I had was in the raw form, it resembled dark tree bark, and it had been collected over the years. I had two pieces that weren’t activated, but they continued to emit a small surge of energy, they were like small electric magnets.

  On the table in the backroom, my book of shadows was open on a page about the benefits of the black stone. It was everything I needed.

  “Will repel dark energy and unwanted magical presence,” I read aloud, scrolling a finger across the sentence. “Perfect.”

  Beneath its description was a small incantation to activate the stone. The one that was currently active in the backroom had a tingly feel if you focused on it and operated at a low purring frequency, like the sound of an electric fence, and worked in a similar way too.

  I held two pieces, one in each hand, focusing on the energy vibrating through them. “Protect this place, put up your ward, keep evil out, a force restored.” A bolt of blue magic sparked from my hand around the stone.

  I went on to place one near the cash register and the other inside my baking studio.

  “Gwen,” Ethel called to me as I dusted myself off from the kitchen.

  “Yes?” I said, approaching her and Margery at the table by the window.

  “You’re here early,” she said, glancing at her watch. “We’ve only just sat down.”

  Margery laughed. “Barely had time to order.”

  I couldn’t help smiling at the women as they faffed around with their belongings. “What would you like me to get you?”

  “Oh, no, no.” Ethel waved me away with a hand. “Abi knows.”

  Ralph chuckled from behind the counter. “Yes, we know.”

  “Isn’t your friend joining you today?” I asked.

  They looked at each other, before looking back at me. “Who? Dot?” Margery asked. “God knows, I think she’s off collecting her big payday.”

  “Oo, the lotto?” I asked. “I didn’t think they drew numbers on a Sunday.”

  “Oh, no,” Ethel said. “She was related to Nigel. Last night at the church they were asking about any living relatives.”

  My mouth dropped into ‘O’ shape. “What?” My voice squeaked.

  Margery swotted at my hand. “They were really distant. She knew for some time but never spoke about him.”

  “She did?” I asked. Dot was the one who’d informed us all that Nigel didn’t have any relatives, but she’d been in the same room as him, she’d baked for a competition he was judging. If they knew each other, they were keeping it a secret.

  “Yeah,” Ethel said. “This morning, she got a call from someone managing Nigel’s estate. Lucky, isn’t she. I doubt he knew. Crazy that. Living on each other’s doorstep.”

  A million thoughts raced through my head. I couldn’t set any of them straight, or piece together a sentence to speak. I smiled and left the table, headed to the backroom where I could speak to myself and find an answer in the middle of all the confusion.

  “They can’t have known each other,” I said aloud. “He’d even called Dot’s cake out on having too much coconut.” I hadn’t tasted any of the cakes, but August said they were all fine, and I’m sure given the opportunity he’d have eaten them.

  The dots weren’t connecting at all.

  Knock. Knock.

  I didn’t need interruptions, not while my mind was spinning. I rummaged through my handbag, grabbing my notebook when the knocks came once again. This time I answered, clutching my notepad and pen in hand.

  “Gwen,” a familiar voice spoke before I opened the door. Detective Hodge stood in the doorway, smiling to himself with his hands deep in his beige overcoat.

  “Yes?” I stepped out of the room, quickly shutting the door behind.

  “I have some news for you,” he said. “And I’m sure you’ll be happy to hear it.”

  My heart skipped a beat, thudding slightly in my ears. I stared for a moment, trying to get a read on his face, but it was expressionless; a true poker face. “Well?”

  “I’m sure you heard we let Rhonda leave,” he began. “You can stop investigating or whatever it is you’ve been doing.”

  “I mean, I haven’t—”

  He glanced at the notebook in my hand. “We received a coroner’s report from the hospital in Belsy, where Nigel’s body was taken, and the report came back to say Nigel died from natural causes.”

  “He did?”

  Hodge nodded. “While we found evidence of suspected foul play, the report of the coroner is final. They’ve ruled Nigel’s death a heart attack.”

  It couldn’t have been. I wanted to object, but I couldn’t think of anything to object to. He was telling me this wasn’t a murder investigation anymore, so why did I feel like there was something missing? “Thank you for telling me,” I said.

  “I don’t want you digging around more than you have,” he said.

  While he was on the topic of digging around, I smiled. “Have you had any luck finding your father?” I asked, recalling that he’d been using a private detective agency to investigate his estranged father last month.

  He scoffed. “Why?”

  “I could always help,” I replied.

  “I’m not into all that.” He waved his hands in the air and wiggled his fingers at me. “The old-fashioned way is fine with me.”

  A grin from across my face. “Well, don’t say I didn’t offer.”

  “Trust me, I won’t.” He turned to leave, approaching Abi at the counter as she handed him a to-go cup of coffee.

  Before I could head back into the backroom, Abi came over, extending herself over the counter with a huge smile on her face. “What did he want?” she asked.

  The news would be out soon, if it wasn’t already. “Nigel died of natural causes,” I said. “That’s why they let Rhonda out yesterday.”

  “Oo.” She tapped the bottom of her chin. “You know, it’s funny because I saw Michael talking to the newswoman this morning about how he was going to find Nigel’s killer.”

  Now it was ruled a natural death, it’d be difficult to prove anyone killed him. Unless he was going to expose the entertainment industry for making him eat so much food it forced him into a heart attack. “Good luck,” I said. “He’ll need it.”

  A breeze rolled into the café, forcing the doors open. Tana came in seconds later, dressed in a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. She shivered, stepping slowly toward me while people stared.

  “Tana?” I rushed to her side, touching her cold skin briefly. There was gloom to her touch. I pulled away, ushering her into the safety of the backroom.

  “Gwen, it was awful,” she said once she was sat on the ground with a blanket around her shoulders.

  “What was?” I asked.

  “A nightmare.”

  That was the feeling I’d gathered when she came in. “What was it about?” I asked. “And why aren’t you dressed.”

  “I came straight here,” she said. “It’s the safest place in the village.”

  I hummed at that thought. If whoever it was with the brownie had been in here, it couldn’t have been that safe. “What did you see?”

  “Black. Pitch black. And in it, there were these white-hot eyes burning red, like you see when you’ve stared at the sun for a little too long.”

  I bobbed along with her, thinking back to last night when I’d seen those men at the building site, and how they all turned to me. “I think I know the feeling.”

  “It’s too much, everything is overwhelming,” she said. “I’m glad the nursery is closed for Christmas now.”

  “Was it a large presence?”

  She looked me in the eyes, her chest unsettled with shallow breaths. “I’ve never felt it before.”

  I ruled brownies out, they were small creatures. “And did you find anything when you woke up?”

  “Well,” she said, butting her lips shut. “This was outside my house.” She pushed her closed fist out, turning her wrist slowly. “It’s—it’s—” she revealed a gold coin.

  My stomach sank to the ground as I knelt beside her. “Oh, Goddess,” I grumbled. “Can I have a look?”

  She let it slip from her fingers into my hand. “You think this one’s from the brownie as well?”

  “Possibly,” I said. There was nothing connecting this brownie to anyone in the village. “But I think I might have an idea of someone who knows.”

  CHAPTER 14

  “Who?” she asked.

  “Stay here and stay warm,” I said, standing. I slipped the coin into the front pocket of my jeans.

  “Where are going?”

  “There might be more than one brownie in the village.” I spun a scarf around my neck before layering my coat over.

  Tana tried to protest and ask me what I was doing, but I had a one-track mind and I needed to find the someone responsible for leaving coins around the village. I knew there was one man who was well-travelled enough and comfortable with a village and its own personal coven to have stumbled across brownies before.

  Michael Dane.

  Dressed sharply in a navy-blue suit in front of the old hotel, Michael stood with a clipboard in hand alongside another man with a hard hat and a high-vis jacket.

  “Mr. Dane,” I called out as I approached him on the street. “Mr. Dane.”

  “Gwen,” he laughed, pulling away from his conversation. “Call me, Michael,” he said.

  I scoffed. “You’re a bit of a vulture,” I said.

  “Well, let me buy you dinner first before we go about saying things like that,” he laughed.

  “Firstly, what were your men doing working here last night?”

  He tapped his pen on the clipboard. “Their job,” he said, “now that the ink is dry on the contract and this is all mine, I need to get to work.”

  “Another thing,” I began, “how do you have so much money?” I wasn’t going to lead with it, or even ask that question.

  “Smart business decisions,” he replied. “Do you need help with your accounts? I could get my accountant to look over the books for you at the café.”

  “No, no, no,” I said, waving a hand at his suggestion. I pulled my coat tighter around my chest. “Have you seen one of these before?” I took the gold coin from my pocket.

  He stood on the spot, squeezing his eyes as he looked at the coin from all angles. “Is it for sale?” he asked. “I’m not really a coin collector, but if you need money, I could make you an offer. I’m always looking for investment opportunities.”

  My theory fell like a lead balloon. Unless it was a ruse. “It’s nothing,” I said, shoving the coin back into my pocket. “Did you hear about Nigel?” I asked.

  “Well, I was there when he died.”

  “I mean, his death has been ruled as natural causes, a heart attack.”

  Michael sighed. “Must’ve been the pressure,” he said. “All the debt he was in must’ve really crippled him.”

  “Debt?”

  “I know,” he laughed. “And he still wouldn’t sell me that house.” He shrugged. “Guess now I can get it cheap when it goes to auction.”

  “Oh.” After being told all this information about Nigel’s riches, I wasn’t sure how to handle news about his debt. “Is this why you were arguing?”

  “I argue with most people,” he said. “I’ve argued with you before, Hodge, Bernard, Alan,” he let out a small chortle before tapping the side of the clipboard against his head. “I even argued with that wedding cake lady.”

  “Olivia?” I asked.

  “That one,” he said. His eyes clocked mine as he winked. “You don’t think I had anything to do with Nigel’s heart attack, do you?”

  “Well, I—I, no,” I said, firm in myself to know Michael wasn’t the person I was looking for. “I wanted to make sure you knew, given some people saw you talking to Diane earlier.”

  He smirked. “And if you’re having troubles with your finances, let me know, I’ll be happy to help wherever I can.”

  I wasn’t going to be accepting any such offer. It would be the last thing I’d do, probably a similar thought Nigel had.

 

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