A Witch Before Dying: A Wishcraft Mystery by Heather Blake Read Free Book Online

said, puttingher hand on my arm. “It’s just that sometimes I get carried away. Plus, the shock of seeing that hand…I tend to babble when I’m stressed. Am I babbling?”
    Missy barked.
    I agreed.
    Yvonne sighed as if she had already known the answer. “I should be more distraught, I know. And I am. Deep down. I’ll miss Patrice—our old friendship at least—but I think…I think I knew this day would eventually come. Patrice never would have left Elodie willingly. I can’t say she always had Elodie’s best interests at heart, but she wouldn’t have walked away on her own.”
    There was so much to ask, I was having trouble figuring out what to say first. “She didn’t have Elodie’s best interests at heart?”
    Yvonne waved a hand in dismissal. “It was nothing.”
    It was something. I could tell by her tone. I could also tell by the purse of her lips that she wasn’t going to say more about that subject, so I forged ahead. “Why did Patrice leave the Stove alone the night she went missing?”
    Yvonne tucked a strand of blond hair behind her ear and fussed with her glasses as she said, “Patrice and Andreus had a big fight at dinner. I think she was finally realizing that he was only after the Anicula. She accused him of stealing it.”
    Andreus went on my suspect list, too. I felt a little smug—I was getting pretty good at this investigating thing. “Stealing it? It was missing?”
    “That’s what Patrice wanted us to believe.”
    “But was it true?”
    “I don’t know. I always suspected she accused him because she wanted him to think she didn’t have it anymore. It was a challenge. Was he with her because he liked her? Or was he using her?”
    Stolen. Was it possible?
    “Did she use the Anicula a lot?” I wondered aloud.
    A passing cloud threw shadows across Yvonne’s face. Her eyebrows dipped, her mouth tightened. “No. Patrice used the Anicula only sparingly. On her own terms.”
    Her voice was tight with anger, and I studied her carefully. There was something really important in the statement she’d made, but I didn’t know what it was. I could only feel it. Feel her anger. Feel her hurt. I shifted, uncomfortable with the weight of her emotion.
    “I didn’t hear the whole of their argument,” Yvonne said. “They took it outside. Next thing I knew, Andreus came back in to pay the bill and said that Patrice had gone home.”
    It was less than a five-minute walk from here to the Stove, so I felt safe in assuming that she’d made it home before something happened to her.
    “Do you think Andreus had anything to do with it?” I gestured across the street.
    “Honestly, I don’t know. It’s possible, I guess. He’d do just about anything to get his hand on the Anicula.” She sighed. “This is just horrible.”
    “Yvonne!” someone shouted. A burly bear of a man barreled through the crowd and jogged up the sidewalk. “I came as soon as I heard the news.”
    He was out of breath and starting to wheeze. Everywhere I looked on him there was hair. A wild mane on his head, a grizzly beard, tufts sticking out of the neck and cuffs of his button-down shirt. I could only imagine what his legs looked like and was somewhat grateful he was wearing pants and not shorts. He pulled Yvonne into an engulfing hug.
    “It was horrible, Roger.” She was stiff in his arms, clearly uncomfortable, and soon wriggled her way out of his furry grasp.
    Roger Merrick. Yvonne’s husband and Connor’s father. I could see where Connor inherited his size. Rogerwas a big, big man. His eyes, a grayish green, shifted to me. Caution and wariness hardened his gaze, giving me a sudden case of the heebies.
    “Who are you?” he asked.
    “This is Darcy Merriweather, Roger. She’s Ve Devany’s niece. Elodie hired As You Wish to clean out Patrice’s house.” She explained how we’d found the body.
    Roger snarled. His eyeteeth were long and pointed. I gathered up Missy, who had been busy sniffing the man’s