Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
I check the portraits all the way down to 1980, and they’re not listed on any of them. I keep checking, going back to when they could have first attended the academy just to be sure.
“Well, they weren’t members of the coven,” I tell Hunter. “I almost feel disappointed. But not being in the coven is a good thing? I think?” I shake my head. It doesn’t matter, really. The groundskeeper, Stuart, killed them because he believed they were witches.
Whether they were actual spell casting witches or just tree-hugging Wiccans, they were murdered in a violent hate crime.
“Want to see if Ruby is in her office?” I ask Hunter since we’re nearby. We go up a set of stairs, down a hall, and then up another curved staircase. If it wasn’t for Hunter, I would have gotten lost in here when I started coming more often on my own.
Ruby isn’t in her office, but Devon is in his. He also teaches a few summer school classes as well as helps manage the library since the academy librarian is partly retired. I knock on the door frame before entering.
“How can I—oh, hey, Anora.” Devon leans back in his chair and smiles.
“I’m not interrupting you, am I?” Hunter sits at my side and I reach down, running my hand over his head.
“No. I’ve been grading papers all morning and am going cross-eyed. I’m due for a break. How have you been?”
“Good. Busy trying to solve a cold case from the 1980s.”
“You know, I can never tell if you’re joking or not.”
I laugh and push my hair back over my shoulders. “I’m not. My friend’s aunt bought that big old house in Paradise Valley where two girls were murdered in 1988. He asked me to check it out and see if it’s haunted and boy, is it! Anyway, I picked up on some really negative energy so we did kind of a stake out last night and I was able to taunt said dark energy into coming out of the woodwork. Those girls were killed by the groundskeeper who buried his trophies in a coffee can on the property and died before he could move it. Now I have to figure out how to tell the police without coming off as crazy.”
Devon lowers the pen in his hand, eyeing me with a mixture of amusement and concern. “You’re sure you’re not joking?”
“Hah. I almost wish I was. I guess that house has been rumored of being haunted, but, uh, the right person never investigated.”
“Those murders are still brought up today. Two young women brutally killed and their killer never caught…so tragic. It caused a debate inside the coven if we should let our clairvoyants help. Ultimately, the Grand Coven wouldn’t allow it. We don’t get involved in non-business that would risk exposing us. The subject came up again when vampires came out. Some thought nons would be more open to accepting us without wanting to burn us at the stake.”
“Oh, wow.” I lean against the doorframe. “That’s really shitty.”
“Yeah. Most of the coven will agree with you. Especially since cops work with psychics and it would be easy to pose as one and not go in there summoning energy balls or talking to your familiar, ya know?”
“Yeah,” I say as an idea starts to form in my head.
“Wait, you got all that and solved a nearly forty-year old cold case from one visit?”
“Two, technically. And I had help.”
Devon motions to a chair in front of his desk. “I want to hear about this.”
“You said the Grand Coven wouldn’t let anyone get involved because the girls were nons?” I sit down, feeling like maybe my theory is wrong.
“Right. It’s petty, if you ask me.”
“Huh.” I look at Hunter, biting my lower lip as I think.
“I know that look.” Devon scoots his chair close to his desk and rests his elbows on the surface. “And the last time I saw it, we were opening a portal.”
“Hah. Not doing that today. It’s just…what I picked up was that the girls—Marissa and Allison—were killed because they were witches. Using magic is how I drew out the spirit of the murderer. I bet he haunted that place to try and keep his secret hidden.”
Devon considers my words. “The famous witches during the Salem Witch Trials weren’t real witches.”
“Right.”
“So they could have been Wiccan or even a practicing pagan but lacked actual skill.” He shakes his head. “That sounds harsh.”
“No, I get it, and it makes sense. I was able to sense that they were both into what would be considered new age stuff by today’s standards. Would the fact that this guy targeted witches in that way change things in the Grand Coven’s eyes?”
“Probably not at the moment. There was a, uh, shakeup inside the Grand Coven not that long ago where, uh, one of them snapped and killed members of this coven. A few students died.”