Page 85 of The Hearth Witch’s Guide to Spite & Spellwork

“How long ago was that?”

“They separated when I was ten, but the divorce didn’t finalize until last year. Mum said it was Dad’s fault, Dad said she was being stubborn…” She wrapped her arms around herself, continuing to rock. “I just try to keep Wallace and me out of the crossfire.”

“That’s a lot to put on a kid.”

Chloe’s eyes welled with tears and she gave another shrug.

“Did your mother have any friends?”

“Not really. When they were together, she and Dad would hang out with the other parents, but… Honestly, Mum didn’t really like other women.”

“What makes you say that?”

“She told me.” The sixteen-year-old laughed and the rocking slowed. “Well, sort of. I was having trouble with my best friend because she kept blowing me off for her new boyfriend—like I get it, he plays rugby, but I’m pretty sure the ball has a higher IQ.”

Saga chuffed a laugh.

“Anyway, when I told Mum about it, she went on this big rant about that’s how most girls are, and they’ll stab you in the back the first chance they get. Real into female empowerment, my mum.” Chloe’s expression contorted painfully. “Sorry, I shouldn’t talk like that. I know she meant well, in her way.”

“Do the names Betsey Paris or Luna Ravenwood sound familiar at all?”

Chloe’s brow furrowed. “Luna Ravenwood? The author?”

Saga wasn’t expecting that. “You know her?”

“Not really, I mean, I checked out one of her books literally last week, and Mum nearly had a conniption about it. Kept saying I was bringing darkness into the house—you’d think she was religious the way she went on about it. I swear if it hadn’t been a library book, she’d have burned it.”

“So you’d never heard your mother talk about magic before?” Saga prodded gently.

Chloe’s expression did not hide how absurd she found Saga’s question. “No. Until that moment, I didn’t know she even had an opinion on supernatural bullshit or anything.”

“Supernatural bullshit?”

“I mean, the book was absolute rubbish. It was all worded like you’re the chosen one and only you have the power to unlock the divine…” The girl affected a very silly “old wizard” sort of voice.

“Can I ask why you checked it out then?”

Chloe looked embarrassed. “I dunno. Something really weird happened to this girl at school… Everyone said it was a prank, but I don’t see how it could have been. I didn’t have any explanation, so when I was looking for anything on, I dunno, like, unexplained phenomena? I found the book,” Chloe explained simply. “Didn’t help me understand any better though. Like I said, complete rubbish.”

“Do you mind if I ask what weird thing happened?”

“You’ll think I’m stupid.”

Saga chuffed in disbelief and shook her head. “I swear to you, I will not.”

Chloe pursed her lips and leaned in, dropping her voice. “I swear I thought I saw her grow a pig snout and ears.”

Chapter 22 Avery

Natural magic and relics did not leave the same signature as ritual magic. Evidence suggested that line of sight was imperative for the curse to work on its victims. At the very least, it meant the killer had to be at the scene of the crime and was far more likely to leave behind evidence as a result.

The back garden was covered in creeping thyme, and while there were some impressions amid the dug holes, there was nothing large or deep enough to make a genuine footprint. The shovel appeared to be from the small garden shed on the property where Avery found an empty hook next to a rake and hoe with similar handles. The rain had most likely washed away any hope of fingerprints. Circling to the side gate to the right of the house, she found a small patch of mud. There were no footprints, which placed the murder prior to the rains.

It was plausible that if someone had reached over the top of the gate to unlatch it from the other side, the latch would have protected the fingerprints from the elements. She’d have to notify Lahiri.

When she found him, he was keeping a far too careful watch over Saga as she interacted with the Abernathy’s teenage daughter.

Avery had hoped after the last successful case and with Saga’s invaluable contributions, the detective might have been a little more receptive to her help this time around. “Our killer entered through the side gate to the back door.” She kept her voice low as she stepped up to Lahiri. “Rain will have washed away most of the physical evidence, but it would be worth having the underside of the latch fingerprinted and perhaps swabbing the scratches on the outside of the glass door, in case whatever scratched it transferred over in the mark. It’s unlikely anything transferred, by the look of it, but there may be something there my eyes can’t see.”