Hexes and X's (Z&C Mysteries, #3) (2 page)

*

Soon they were turning right at the unicorn mailbox into the driveway of Matilda Dread. She came through the screen door, having seen them.

There were glad hugs and big smiles. “Leave your luggage in the car, because you will be staying at Coven House. I have three bedrooms, but other than mine, one is used for an office and the other for storing supplies. So you wouldn’t want to stay here anyway.”

Matilda’s house was bright, colorful, and had big cushy chairs and a couch. The self-acclaimed witch looked absolutely glowing and healthy with her tousled gray hair. She wore a bib apron over a simple yellow-checkered dress, along with support hose and sensible shoes. “We will go over to Coven House before it gets dark, so we can get you settled. I will show you there where I have hidden the sketch and accompanying finger bone. I’m the only one who knows where it is. I am also the presiding matriarch of Coven House. You might call me President of our club of thirteen. I think you will be impressed with our building.”

The meatloaf dinner was delicious with pickles, jam, beets, and green beans—everything canned and homemade.

“Matilda, where is your husband? I thought you were married,” Zo asked, forking another big bite.

“Oh, yes. We are divorced. He went out on me more than Fido through a dog door. Cynthia finally got him. She deserves him.” Matilda licked some strawberry jam off a finger.

“Sorry,” Zo replied. “I have an ex. He left me for an older woman.”    

Matilda raised her eyebrows.

“Yep. She had money, a bigger house, owned two cars, took him on a cruise. I had a job trying to sell real estate in a depressed market. He doesn’t like working,” Zo added.

“Mom got even and he doesn’t even know it,” said Claire, eyes twinkling over a recent real estate deal that unexpectedly made her mother obscenely rich. Claire also was a recipient of that same good fortune.

“I’m sure,” responded Matilda. “Your mother probably has men lined up at the door to date her. How about you, Claire?”

“I’m not married. I was engaged. My ex is very ambitious. As long as I was climbing the ladder in a magazine as the editor, he could be proud of me. But, they brought someone else in when it was my move for a promotion. He lost respect for me, I guess, and called it quits. I don’t miss him. Mom and I are doing okay.”

Matilda leaned into Claire. “How would you like me to hex him with a little balding curse?!” She cackled at the thought.

“Thanks anyway, Matilda. He is pathetic enough. I’d rather see him dig himself into consequences all o
f his own doing. There is more satisfaction for me in that.”

“Okay, but I am always here for you.” She smiled brightly. “Wow! We better head out to Coven House. It’s getting late.” Matilda went and picked up a container from the top of a tower of boxes. “Help me with this, sweets. This is all food I have put together for your stay over there. And don’t forget that box right there beside these. It has a few things that you might need as well, including a couple flashlights.”

After they put everything in a big ol’ green pickup named Broom 2, per the license plate, the duo drove behind her to a large, auspicious Victorian: shingled siding, wraparound porch with pillars, a wrought iron captain’s walk on a higher level of its various roofing lines, many windows of different heights and shapes, everything gorgeous and painted in colors of dark gold and deep cranberry hues. The estate sat on about three acres, with well-manicured lawns, the landscaping immaculately decorated from lavender Hydrangeas, pink Rhododendrons to purple Pansies. A wrought iron fence surrounded the entire premises.

“It appears,” Claire said, pulling into its long drive, “our home, Hillgate Manor, has met its match.”

The three ladies climbed the wrap-around porch, touching its handrails, leading their way to large double doors boasting black ring knockers and long amber windows.

“Are you sure this isn’t the town’s library?” Zo asked.

“Funny you should ask,” replied Matilda. “Wait until you get a load of the library in here!”

Upon entering the large foyer, they were again astonished. Rose carpets on dark hardwood floors followed up the center of an extravagant staircase. Dark carved railings were art in themselves, the ends of the banisters swirling in an intricate manner.

“I’m going to give you two the suite right at the top of the stairs. There are a couple of beds in there. This house tends to spook people out, so I thought you’d like to be together, not down at opposite ends of the hallway.”

“That will be great,” assured Claire. “Mom and I are used to large houses. Who owns this house, anyway?”

“That is up for argument. I say it’s historically my family’s. The Coven says it is theirs because they have been taking care of it and paying taxes for decades. The town says it is theirs and would like us all out of here, because it is an old and historical site with no ‘clear’ owner. If you ladies can come up with anything clever so that the town council won’t take it away from us, that would be appreciated.”

“How about getting a lawyer, two or three?” asked Zo, concerned.

“The girls and I cannot sell enough jam and pickled string beans to afford a lawyer.”

“How about conjuring up some gold?” Claire smiled.

“Alright, alright, I’ll tell you. The Coven House witches are mostly show.”

“What do you mean?” asked Claire.

“Well, we like to torment the uppity townspeople. And, we get notoriety, and a little respect.”

“So this is all about bugging the snoots?” asked Zo, somewhat amused, glancing around, taking in more of the old architecture and decor.

“No, we have a purpose. What we do is make natural remedies for mildly sick people, tasty potions for people with no courage or no esteem; and, therefore, we do a compassionate service through a lot of psychological help, giving people confidence.”

“That works out pretty well, does it?” Zo asked again.

“Why not? We don’t hurt anyone and we add a little color to the community. You’d be surprised at how many people come here. We have a fortune-telling night where people come to petition help for themselves or a loved one. It can be quite serious. Of course nobody wants to be seen here, so they drive to the back and come in through the mud porch. That way the towns-people don’t know where they have been.”

“Some people have very serious, maybe life-altering problems. I’m not so sure I’d want to take that responsibility,” Claire interjected.

Matilda nodded, understanding creasing the corners of her eyes further. “We tell them to come back in two days. This is the way it all works: After two days of debating within our coven meetings, we come to a conclusion on how we can best help the people and then send for them to do a palm reading or fortune- telling session—which is essentially all about them receiving good advice—and, maybe give a potion that is really a vitamin drink.

“For those more serious problems, we’ve got in our coven a retired psychologist, a registered nurse, and two who have PhDs in Herbology or what I call Potion Making 101—they make our mixers. The rest have their special talents.”

Zoey and Claire were impressed, nodding identically.

“Now,” Matilda continued, seemingly pleased by their response, “if our RN feels there is something to see a doctor for, well, then we read a palm and tell a fortune which includes instructions to go see a doctor for sure.”

Claire had to ask, “How did you get these women? Did it happen luckily? …These women felt they had magical powers, or what?”

“Not exactly…” Matilda smiled to that. “We had to go out and convince them to join. Like I said, we are actually a secret society of community service. Once we convinced these intelligent and skilled women, they joined happily. We also have comradery and fun. So we dress up in our witches costumes to walk around the grounds, and sometimes we walk in a parade,
… which can get us a rotten tomato, but then we point a finger and threaten a curse. It actually works.”

“Then, witchcraft around here is a sweet thing
.” Claire was relieved.

“I’d like to say that; but, there is Cynthia. Cynthia is a real p
iece of evil work that has been practicing mean magic since a teen. I’d say she fits the profile of a wretched hag witch. For sure there are strange happenings around her and her other two witch friends. They are very jealous of us, and Coven House. Actually, that’s the woman my husband left me for.”

“He left you for a hag?” This was a point of interest to Zo.

“She is a moonlight blonde with icy blue eyes, a sexy body and looks great in black satin.”

“Ooo ow!” said Zo. “Well, we will not at all reveal what you have told us here, Matilda. My admiration for you and your coven sisters has just excelled. Our secret.”

Claire nodded in agreement. “But wait, Matilda. You have hexed people on sidewalks, and to go bald!”

“Yeah, how
’bout that?! That bald hex works at least seventy percent of the time, somewhere in their life. And, more fun yet? They check the mirror every morning. Eeee hee hee hee!”

THREE

After all the food was brought in, put into the fridge and into a cinnamon-sweet-smelling pantry, the Kanes enjoyed the charming kitchen. Soft yellow cabinetry of diamond-paned glass, along with shiny pots and pans hanging over a large butcher’s block, gave the room a postcard appeal. Garlic bulbs strewn on red twine along windows, added to the feeling. And like looking through a kaleidoscope of colors, assorted jars and bottles of differing provisions sat on the counter, the magenta of pickled beets accenting the deep green of pickled asparagus. Zo suddenly had a desire for homemade bread and rhubarb jam.

Matilda said, “It’s time for me to get the sketch for you. You can hide it back where I have it when you aren’t looking it over.”

The Kanes followed Matilda to the library. Deep green velvet draped the sides of a tall stained-glass window, showcasing a fountain’s spray, bluebirds, and all kinds of color
ful garden flowers and vines. A sliding ladder reached to lofty places, awaiting those who desire books on the twenty-sixth shelf. Black leather chairs invited readers to sink into them, some beside standing lamps that seemed more like art sculptures. A statue of a woman stood in a corner, designed with her clothing draped in folds down to her bare feet; she held a basket of flowers as she modestly looked down, slightly to her left, whimsical curls adorning her face.

“Man! This is beautiful,” Claire exclaimed, and looked up to the golden ceiling fans hanging low from a cross-beamed ceiling, set at a slow spin.

“Yes. Who can actually read, with all this candied environment?” Zo added.

“Try some of my chocolate nut chews on the desk there.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Zo strolled over and took a couple. “So, where is the hiding place for the sketch?”

“Not here. I just wanted to show you our library.”

The two followed Matilda to the second story where she opened double doors at the top. “Here is your room.”

It was pale green with light and dark pink accents. It had old gold drapes, gold bedspreads, and gold-framed mirrors and pictures, as well as gold bathroom appointments. The toilet had a ceiling tank and long chain, and a bathtub sat on claws over balls.

“There are many things about Coven House that are antiques. Some things have been brought in by later generations, and then there are things that the coven has saved for and improved— carpeting is one example. We don’t know how to date the statue downstairs in the library. We just think it’s regal. It seems to have always been here, … like the toilet.”

“Is the sketch in here?” Claire asked.

“No.” Matilda led them out left, down the hallway to a door at the end. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a skeleton key. “I’m the only one who has this key.”

Soon they were climbing a circling iron stairway that led them into the attic. There were boxes, a seamstress form, and miscellaneous items that Zo was sure an antique dealer would like to get a hold of. Basically, the floor was swept and there were no cobwebs.

“How do you expect us to get all scared if there are no cobwebs?” kidded Claire.

Matilda cackled. “Funny how the dark has a way of changing things.”

“Mama, Matilda just scared me.”

“It’s okay, baby.” Zo chuckled and rubbed the back of her daughter’s neck to loosen the chilling feeling.

“Where is it?” asked Claire looking around.

“Not here.”

“What?!” the Kanes exclaimed in unison.

“Patience.” Matilda walked a ways, pushed a couple of boxes aside, turned her skeleton key around to its ornate end and pushed it between wall slats. The slats sprung out a couple of inches, revealing that it was actually a concealed door. “This way,” she directed.

They entered another attic room with a round window like a sun drawn by leaded panes. An iron ladder went up to the ceiling where there was a small door. “That leads up to the captain’s walk.”

“That would be where the wrought iron fence goes around the flat part of the roof?” Zo asked.

“That is correct, but we aren’t going up there.”