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An air of superiority seemed to emanate from Wisteria and Vinnie had to stop herself from wrinkling up her nose at it. It was so strong she could almost smell it. Vinnie had no problem with serving people and after struggling to find her sense of self as a non-magical person in an ancestral, magical family, serving others by doing the house chores had given herself the gift of purpose.
Vinnie took great pride in all manner of housekeeping and while occasionally she did use magical objects to help, she thought that doing things by hand was almost more magical. Cooking was like potion making, but better because it could be eaten at the end. Making bread and watching it rise and bake was magical. Reading difficult instructions in what looked like a foreign language, and knitting yarn into a warm sweater was so absolutely satisfying that sometimes it took Vinnie’s breath away. There was magic in the mundane, but someone like Wisteria would never look for it there.
“Would you please separate those three out and gather the rest?” Vinnie said. “We can question all the rest together then. Please let us know when you have done that.”
Wisteria stared at her for a beat like she was deciding whether she should take instructions from her but then she turned and walked silently out of the large metal door.
“Wow, that woman is a total bi…” Diggy started.
“Indigo!” Vinnie exclaimed. “Language! And always keep in mind that whether we like another woman or not, we never cut them down like that. Women support women, even if they cannot stand the woman at all.”
Diggy opened her mouth like she was about to say something back but before she could, the door opened once more and Wisteria stuck her head back in to say that the group was ready. Vinnie just hoped that these women would be a bit more pleasant to deal with than Wisteria.
Vinnie wasn’t sure where the three women had been spirited off to, but the other women were sitting in a slightly smaller horseshoe shape than last time. When Vinnie and Diggy walked over to the open hole where they should stand, Vinnie could feel the dozen or so sets of eyes following them.
Every single woman was sitting with her legs or ankles crossed and each one had an air of power about them. Every single one was dressed almost totally in black, with just shades of white and gray to offset it. Vinnie felt totally out of place in her colorful skirt and cardigan. She made a mental note to find some sort of professional outfit that could be her uniform when they had to go out on Halloween Helper calls.
It almost felt like every single one wanted to be the boss and since their coven leader had died without naming a successor, that might just be the case. But before they could appoint someone else as the leader, they had to figure out who had killed the old leader first.
“Hello everyone,” Vinnie said, trying to be pleasant without seeming happy. They were investigating a murder after all. “I understand that none of you had anything to do with the food or the kitchen last night, is that right?”
All of the women nodded back at her. Vinnie glanced over at Diggy, who was doing a great impression of an adult, though her stereotypically witchy outfit along with the thick eyeliner that had slightly smeared during her crying jag earlier made for an interesting sight.
“I’m going to make this easy for everyone then,” Vinnie said. “Yesterday I assume all of you were seated at the table when the servers came in with the food. You sat and waited while Plant was served first, as I am told is customary. Then you all watched in horror as she turned to stone. Is there anything I’ve left out or anything that anyone would like to add?”
The women sat in stunned silence for a moment before a murmur ran around the circle. It seems like no one had anything to add and now they could move on to the more important interviews without feeling like they had left anything to chance.
“Perfect,” Vinnie said, clapping her hands together in front of her. “Now, if any of you do think of something you’d like to tell me, you can just find me and let me know. Otherwise, all of you sitting here are free to go for now.”
A few women started to stand up, but a tall, slim woman with shoulder length blonde curls stuck her hand up in the air, tentatively at first but then after a thought, raised it up, more sure of herself.
“Umm yes, you,” Vinnie said, pointing at the woman. She hadn’t really been expecting anyone to speak or ask questions.
“I was just wondering when the new leader would be chosen?” the woman asked. “And how she would be chosen? I think we are all wanting to know.”
“Figuring out how Plant died is our priority right now,” Vinnie said, not wanting to admit that she had no idea how they were going to choose the new leader. “After that, I will tell everyone when and how the leader will be chosen.”
The women all nodded and stood up. Here and there, a small pop would sound and a witch would suddenly disappear. Slowly, each and every witch teleported herself home until Vinnie and Diggy were the only ones left in the large, modern room. Without people, it seemed very cold and uninviting. It made Vinnie long for her bedroom, which was small and cozy with a fireplace and a four poster bed covered with a quilt she had made herself. Vinnie had a firm belief that space should be filled, not left stark and white like some sort of strange art gallery.
“Well that was one way to do it,” Wisteria said, seeming to appear from nowhere. “I was wondering if you were really going to try to talk to them all at once.”
“That was the easy part,” Vinnie admitted. “Now we have to talk to the three who seem to be our top suspects. First, though, I would like to just ask you a few questions.”
Wisteria hesitated. She didn’t seem like she had been expecting this at all, like somehow she would be exempt from questioning since she had made herself the unofficial leader. Wisteria sat down gingerly on the edge of one of the chairs and folded her hands in her lap, nodding her head towards Vinnie, who sat down in the chair next to her. She didn’t want to make this too formal.
“Was Plant well liked?” Vinnie asked. “I’m going to be honest and say that I don’t know much about the politics and dynamics of coven witches, so I’d like you to tell me what you and the other women generally thought of Plant.”
Wisteria sat extremely still, almost as if she had fallen asleep sitting up with her eyes open. Only a slight twitch of one of her thumbs rubbing the other gave away the fact that she was still conscious. Vinnie glanced back at Diggy to find that she had poofed a pad of paper and a pen out of somewhere and was once again taking notes. Thank goodness someone had thought to do that. Finally, Wisteria spoke.
“Plant was a firm leader who believed unequivocally in the hierarchy and rules of the Sisters of the Beating Heart,” Wisteria said, seeming to pick her words carefully. “She was also a powerful witch and we all respected her abilities.”
“But…” Vinnie said, trying to lead Wisteria to where she was trying to go.
“But she was not a nice woman,” Wisteria said, looking Vinnie straight in the eye. “She could be mercilessly cruel and believed that the only way to help train up a witch was to beat her down. Plant was trying to turn our coven into the most powerful coven in the Mortal Universe and while I’m not sure of what her plans officially were, I do know that she enjoyed leading the group by fear.”
That would explain why no one actually looked sad. In fact, some of the strange expressions Vinnie had witnessed on the girls may have actually been relief. They were no longer under the thumb of a cruel dictator. Vinnie sat back in her chair, a bit surprised by what she had heard. Diggy’s pen was scratching away behind her, writing down every word that Wisteria said.
“So, do you think Plant was killed because of the way she lead the coven?” Vinnie asked.
“I really don’t know,” Wisteria said. “But I wouldn’t be surprised. Plant took pleasure in calling out mistakes that other witches had made and then mocking them for it for a long time afterward. The coven headquarters had gone from being a place of acceptance and respite to a place of anxiety and fear. It got so bad that w
e secretly started sending new trainees that we found to other covens that would train them up in a more loving way. We couldn’t get ourselves out, but at least we could save others from our fate.”
Wisteria looked down into her lap, looking like a weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. Vinnie wasn’t sure if it was professional, but she reached out and touched Wisteria lightly on the shoulder.
“You all did what you had to in order to survive,” Vinnie said quietly. “But Plant is gone now and while it may be better for the coven to have a new leader, it still doesn’t make it right that someone killed her. We will find out who did it and we will help select a new leader. This coven isn’t doomed to an eternity of unhappiness. The Sisters of the Beating Heart can become a place of acceptance once more.”
Wisteria looked up with a very small smile on her face and a tear in her eye. For the first time since Vinnie and Diggy had arrived at the crime scene, someone was actually crying.
Chapter Ten
It was starting to get late, but Vinnie knew that they had to interview the other three witches, even if they came back another day to do a more extensive questioning. Not interviewing them today would be a big missed opportunity.
Apparently around the large living room area was a hallway with hidden bedrooms which weren’t used often, but each witch had one in case they were ever in need. Or if ever a witch was accused of murder and needed to be separated from the other witches, apparently.
The first witch they interviewed was Thistle, who had been a server the night before and also was the potion keeper for the coven. She was the strongest suspect and Vinnie was kind of hoping that she would just confess and everyone could wrap it up and go home.
Walking into the bedroom, the room was decorated very much like Vinnie’s own bedroom at home, which put her right at ease. Vinnie had to wonder how much Wisteria hated the decor as she pulled up a chair to where the girl was sitting on the bed. Diggy pulled another chair up, this one a bit removed from Vinnie and Thistle, and pulled out her notepad and pen. Thistle scowled at them.
“I know what you are thinking, but I didn’t do it,” she said right away as they sat down. “I know it looks bad and I know that I was pretty open about how much I hated Plant, but I did not kill her. I would never harm a fellow witch or anyone else for that matter.”
When Thistle stopped to take a breath, Vinnie held up her hand in front of her. Thistle stopped and for a moment all three girls sat and stared at each other, Vinnie taking deep breaths so that the others would follow her lead and calm down a bit.
“As Halloween Helpers, our job is to untangle all of this,” Vinnie said. “We are not jumping to any conclusions or assuming anyone is guilty. But we do need to ask you questions since you were in contact with the food last night.”
“So her food was poisoned!” Thistle said. “I was pretty sure that was what had happened, but no one could confirm it until now. Did someone jinx it?”
“I’m not aware of a jinx that can be put on food that is powerful enough to kill a witch, especially in the strange way she was killed,” Vinnie said.
Thistle leaned forward and patted Vinnie’s hand gently. She had a sincere look in her eyes as she spoke softly, almost in a whisper, directly into Vinnie’s face.
“No offense dear, but as someone who is non-magical, I don’t think it is fair for you to assume you would know what magic can and cannot do,” Thistle said.
Vinnie was taken aback by this girl who would confront her non-magical self so directly but also so politely. She smoothed her floral skirt a few times, trying to figure out what to say, but Diggy jumped in to defend her.
“Don’t you speak to her that way,” Diggy said. She stood up out of her chair and took a few steps toward Thistle. “She may not be magical, but she has lived with magic her entire life. She is pretty well aware of what it can and cannot do.”
“Oh, I meant no offense,” Thistle said. “I grew up in the opposite way and I’m sure had a similar experience. I wanted nothing more than to be a normal mortal, but I couldn’t be. My family accepted me and loved me fully, but they just didn’t understand me. I became so removed from the mortal way of doing things that I had a hard time connecting.”
“Unlike you, I didn’t have to leave my family,” Vinnie said quietly. “That is the one downside of the coven witches that I see. Even if you have a supportive family, you must leave them to learn and grow. I was able to stay with my family and find my place within it.”
The women fell silent and for a moment the only sound in the room was the crackling fire in the fireplace. All three seemed to be considering their place in the magical world until Vinnie remembered her investigation. She wasn’t done yet.
“But we still have a few questions to ask,” Vinnie said. “Why don’t we start by just having you tell us about last night.”
Diggy walked back to her chair and sat down, poised and ready to write everything the other two women said. Thistle took a deep breath and launched into her story.
“Last night was our monthly meeting and unfortunately, it was my turn to be a server,” Thistle said. “Being a server is terrible because Plant treats you like a slave the entire night. But it was my turn, so I got here early and put on the server uniform. Ivy was already cooking away in the kitchen, so Willow and I started by setting the dining room table and then we had to wait for the witches to come in and sit down before we could continue.”
“You said that Ivy was already here when you came?” Vinnie asked. “What kind of a mood was she in? And what about Willow?”
“They both seemed fine,” Thistle said with a shrug. “I don’t spend a lot of time in the kitchen, but anytime I’m in there Ivy seems to be in good spirits. She is a chef so even if she doesn’t enjoy cooking for the coven, she is okay with cooking. And Willow was annoyed, but so was I. Like I said, everyone hates being the server. We were not in the best mood but we accepted our lot for the night and just wanted to get through the night and move on.”
“Okay, that makes sense,” Vinnie said, which didn’t add much to the conversation, but Vinnie felt like she needed to stay in control of the questioning. “And then what happened? The witches came in and you started serving?”
Thistle took a deep breath and folded her hands in her lap. She seemed nervous, but Vinnie couldn’t tell if that was because she was guilty or just because she was a suspect.
“The witches all came into the dining room,” she said. “So Willow and I grabbed our trays and started down there. It is tradition to serve the leader of the coven first so our trays were just full of Plant’s food. We brought it down and set it down in front of her.”
“Besides you, Willow, and Ivy, no one else touched her food or plate?” Vinnie asked.
“No, we were the only ones,” Thistle said. “Everyone else is supposed to wait patiently for their own food while Plant inspects and accepts the food. They were all doing that when Plant took a bite and then it happened.”
A sob escaped Thistle’s throat and a few tears dripped down her cheeks. Vinnie could tell that Thistle was genuinely affected by what had come next. She gave the girl a few moments to compose herself before she prompted her to move on.
“What happened?” Vinnie asked.
“Plant had taken a bite of something, I don’t remember what exactly,” Thistle said. “And then she started to harden up. It must have started at her toes because at first we didn’t really notice it. We just noticed that she stopped eating and she started to yell out countercurses. Nothing worked and then we saw that her arms were turning into stone. First it started at her fingers and then moved up her neck and then it spread over her head.”
“Did anyone try to help her?” Vinnie asked.
“I don’t know, but I don’t think so,” Thistle said. “But not because we didn’t want to help her, but more like it just happened so fast and we didn’t really realize what was happening until it was done and by then it was too late. Nothing we tried cha
nged anything. Plant was gone.”
Vinnie thought that while ideally they would have tried to save Plant, it was perfectly acceptable for them to not have had time to do anything about it. It wasn’t their fault, after all, it was the fault of whoever had put the potion on Plant’s food.
“What happened after that?” Vinnie asked.
“It turned into a bit of chaos until Wisteria finally took charge,” Thistle said. “Wisteria stood up and got everyone to quiet down. Then she explained that we would leave Plant and the dining room just how it was and that she would call the Halloween Helpers to come help figure out what happened.”
“But how did she know right away that a crime had been committed?” Vinnie asked. “Did anyone poke around to make sure?”
Thistle stared at Vinnie, who turned to see that Diggy was also staring at her. Apparently she had not asked the right question, but she wasn’t sure why.
“We didn’t disturb anything besides pushing our chairs back into the table,” Thistle said. “It was pretty obvious it was a crime because witches don’t just accidentally turn to stone. I haven’t looked, but the potion for that must have a wide array of ingredients that you wouldn’t just accidentally throw together while spicing a turkey.”
Vinnie nodded her head and looked away. That made sense, but she kicked herself for not knowing it. Of course she didn’t because she’d never studied potions, but still. From now on she would have to learn the basics of witch stuff to make sure she didn’t ask something dumb again. Vinnie did wonder if Thistle had slipped up when she talked about the turkey being possibly poisoned. Did she give herself away or just make a lucky guess? For now, Vinnie filed that bit of information away to think about later.
“I think that’s all the questions we have for you tonight,” Vinnie said. “Now, you are free to go home but you must report back here tomorrow morning.”
She was about to say “or we will start a witch hunt for you,” but that was going just a touch too far, even for Vinnie. She had ancestors who had been killed in witch hunts, after all. It was still a sore spot of conversation for most witches.