Page 22 of Home Is Where the Witch Is
“Yeah,” Rosie admitted, sliding her guest’s mug across the counter to her. “I just didn’t think that she’d still be… here. I was kinda hoping she’d moved on.”
Ivy’s smile was gentle, but genuine. “Thisis her happy place,” she told Rosie. “She’s got nothin’ to move on to that could be better than having her family around her.”
“Bless your heart,” Rosie smiled back, promising herself she was done shedding tears for the time being. “It’s lovely to know that. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” Ivy smiled, settling herself back int at the counter. “So… change of topic? Tell me about what brings me to Mosswood.”
Rosie filled Ivy in on the election, the candidates, and the fact Aata had been trying to tell her something backstage on the first day of Ordeals.
“But I guess I’ll never know what now,” Rosie sighed.
“I might be able to find out,” Ivy said. She played with the hand of her mug, turning it in lazy circles. “Just depends on what state his spirit’s in when we get to that motel tomorrow. Do we have some kind of cover story for the motel owner?”
“Crap, I’d forgotten about poor Maude,” Rosie confessed. “I’ll think of something. The Council was gonna make sure the rest of the witches staying there cleared out. They either need to stay in the designated area, or commute.”
She knew Aata couldn’t help the fact he’d been murdered. That was the real issue here. But she was a bit dismayed that it had to happen at a very public part of town. The Sheriff was already busy with her investigation, which might make access to the room even harder now that Ivy was here.
The medium didn’t seem too concerned, though. She nodded, lifting her mug to her lips. “Okay, I’ll leave that part up to you. Do we know how he was killed?”
Rosie grimaced. “Poisoned. Pretty gruesome.”
Ivy pulled a face that matched Rosie’s. “Thanks. It’s good to be prepared.”
“Do you see all that?” Rosie asked, her curiosity piqued.
“The blood and guts?” Ivy asked, continuing when Rosie nodded. “Yeah. Not my favorite part of what I do, but sometimes it can be useful. And sometimes it takes spirits a while to… err…calm downenough to be able to communicate.”
Rosie fought off a shudder. She didn’t want to think about how disorienting it would be to die. “I can understand that. I guess being murdered is a bit of a shock.” She paused, worried enough to ask the question on the tip of her tongue. “What if we can’t get him to communicate?”
“We’ll cross that bridge if we get to it,” Ivy promised.
“Good plan,” Rosie approved, moving into the hallway just beyond the kitchen. The linen closet was built-in with solid doors—another thing she praised about Carol-Ann’s home. Fox Cottage’s closet doors had all been made of slats, meaning that any number of creepy crawly things had been able to get into them. She didn’t want to know how many times she’s had to eradicate moths from the cottage, but here she could rest easy. Reaching into the closet, Rosie pulled out some blankets and went into the living room with Ivy in tow. She laid the bedding and a spare pillow for Ivy out on the couch.
“By the way,” her guest said in a teasing tone. “She wants you to know she hates the new furniture.”
Rosie was momentarily taken aback, but then a bright laugh escaped her that was a little too loud and full of mirth. It was just like Carol-Ann to mention something like that! “That’s her alright,” she said, keeping her voice quieter so they didn’t disturb the kids. “Hopeyoudon’t mind it! Everywhere else is full. I can’t promise you won’t wake up with a crick in your neck, but I can promise you a plate full of something delicious in the morning.”
“Sounds like heaven,” Ivy sighed dreamily. “I don’t cook.”
“Neither do I, really,” Rosie admitted with a sly smile, “but I have a feelin’ you’re gonna need all the energy you can get for tomorrow. You need anything else?”
Ivy glanced around and then shook her head. “Nope—all set. Thanks.”
“Night, then,” Rosie smiled, starting out of the room.
“Night, cuz.”
Rosie made it as far as the door frame before she turned back, watching the young red-haired woman getting stuff out of her overnight bag.
“Ivy?”
“Yeah?” Ivy said, looking up.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” The two women shared a smile, before both heading to bed.
Rosie wasn’t quitesure what she’d been expecting. Her mind had gone to cataloging every cop show she’d ever seen, imagining arterial spray up the walls and a tape outline of where Aata’s body had been when she’d poked her head through the door the day before. She’d assumed that when Emperia had said the words ‘clean-up crew’ she’d meant a magical clean-up crew to remove any otherworldly evidence from the crime scene. But it looked like the Arctic witch had been a little more literal than that.
