Doom and Broom Read online

  “That’s actually a great idea,” I said and stood up. “Do you think I should buy a new camera?”

  “I think the one on your phone is about as good as you’re going to get unless you spend a ton of money on a professional camera. Which you don’t need. What you do need is to be careful with that money. Didn’t you say you needed all of it to pay Langoria’s extortion?”

  “You’re right. I’ll just use my phone.”

  We made our way across the street and I climbed over the low fence that surrounded the cemetery. My first order of business should have been to find a gate. I elected to take pictures instead as I’d become accustomed to scaling the short fence.

  When I’d originally discovered the cemetery, I’d thought it was small, but Remy and I had quickly discovered that the tree line we thought was the graveyard boundary was not. If you went past those trees, it opened up into a much larger cemetery.

  The small part we found was just the oldest section. The closer you got to town, the newer the graves were. The most recent grave was still seventy years old, and it appeared that use of the cemetery was abandoned after that. I couldn’t read any of the oldest graves, but some of the newer ones in the more modern section of the cemetery were legible.

  I had to wonder what had happened that the graveyard was abandoned. There was still room between it and town, so it wasn’t as though they’d run out of space. Remy was doing his best to locate information in the archives for me, but he had other work to do as well. He hadn’t found anything yet.

  I’d approached Ralph Badersmith at the bookstore since he was the head of the local magical preservation society, but since I wouldn’t sell him any of my Tuttlesmith books, he’d stonewalled me. I wondered how Remy had gotten him to agree to hire me to restore the cemetery given that I was not on Ralph’s good side. The only explanation I could think of was that he was hoping I’d come around on selling the books when I was desperate for information.

  The oldest part of the cemetery was going to need the most restoration. “I wonder what tools I need to clean these headstones,” I said out loud.

  “Magic,” Meri answered, and I jumped.

  I hadn’t realized he was standing right behind me. “Would that be using magic for personal gain? I mean, I’m getting paid to restore the graveyard.”

  “You didn’t use magic to get the job. You’d just be using magic to avoid damaging your ancestors’ graves,” he said.

  “How do you know these are my ancestors? They might not be Tuttlesmith witches.”

  “You shouldn’t make the same mistake the Skeenbauers are making, Brighton,” Meri said. “All witches are your ancestors and your family. Nothing good comes from acting as though you are separate. Look at your friendships with Annika and Remy. I’m glad the younger generation can see past the old feud, but I think it’s going to take more than that to really bring everyone together.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know,” Meri answered quickly. “Let’s just get started with the photos.”

  “I feel like you’re not telling me something,” I said.

  “Even if I’m not, you’ll find out eventually anyway. Just trust me.”

  “Whatever,” I said.

  “Whatever,” Meri said back.

  After a couple of hours of taking photos, I figured it was time to head back home and start making dinner. I put my phone on the charger and went into the kitchen to cook.

  Then I realized I needed my phone to get the recipe for the Alfredo sauce. When I went back into the living room to retrieve the phone, I nearly screamed.

  Langoria stood near the fireplace with a bouquet of dead flowers in her hand. I thought it was super creepy and weird for her to break into Hangman’s House just to leer at me, and then I grew increasingly frightened as I realized she might have come to do more than that.

  As I prepared myself to try and fight for my life, some things about her caught my notice. For one thing, she didn’t say anything. For another, after I’d looked at her long enough, I realized she was kinda see-through. I could see the fireplace behind her.

  “Meri!” I called out and he came running down the stairs and into the living room.

  “Oh, my!” he said and then hissed at her.

  With that, she scowled at me more and then faded away.

  “I’m going to go make dinner,” I said.

  “You’re just going to ignore that?” Meri said as he followed me into the kitchen.

  “I’m going to make Alfredo sauce,” I said.

  “Brighton, we can’t just let it go.”

  “I’m assuming it was some sort of asteroid… asternal..”

  “Astral projection,” Meri interjected.

  “Yeah, she was trying to attack me using astral projection, but it didn’t work because this house is too protected. Plus, she’s obviously not fond of you. Just stay close and we’ll be fine,” I said. “So now I’m going to make the Alfredo sauce and cook some noodles.”

  I got the feeling that he wanted to say something else, but I just looked up the recipe for the Alfredo sauce and got to work. While I melted and blended the butter, cream, and parmesan cheese, I boiled water for the noodles. I tried not to think too hard about the apparition that had just appeared in my living room.

  Chapter Two

  Remy arrived just as I was putting food on our plates. He’d come over after work a few times, and I just knew the exact time he’d arrive.

  “You made dinner?” he asked after walking through the back door into the kitchen.

  “You mentioned one time that angel hair pasta with Alfredo pesto was your favorite, so I made that,” I said.

  “For me?” Remy asked as he leaned against the counter. “You went through all this trouble for me?”

  I was heating the pesto sauce up in a small saucepan and waiting for the garlic bread to come out of the oven. Remy came up next to me and peered down into the little pot I was stirring.

  “The noodles are from a box and the pesto is jarred, but I did make the Alfredo sauce from scratch.” The timer dinged and I used a mitt to retrieve the bread from the oven.

  “You didn’t have to do all this,” he said.

  “I know I didn’t, but I wanted to,” I said. “If nothing else, it’s a thank you for getting me the contract. I need the money, and it’s great that I can earn it doing something I was practically doing anyway. At the very least I’ll have something to focus on for a while instead of just drifting around town all day. Maybe if I do this well, it can lead to other opportunities in Coventry too. I don’t exactly have a career figured out yet.”

  I took the plates and set them down at the kitchen table before pouring the pesto into a little serving bowl. All that was left was the bread, which Remy was taking off the pan and putting on a plate.

  “Ouch,” he said as he dropped the last piece onto the plate. “Held onto that one a little too long.” He shook his hand.

  I rushed to his side and grabbed his hand to examine his fingers. They were red from a slight burn.

  “Let me see if I have some burn cream in my medicine cabinet,” I said.

  “I’ll be all right,” he said and shook his hand again.

  I knew it stung. “Don’t be stubborn, Remy Skeenbauer,” I teased.

  “Try using magic,” Meri said as he sauntered back into the kitchen. He was supposed to stay with me, but apparently, he’d wandered off.

  “I don’t know if I can do that,” I said.

  “Well, not with that attitude you can’t,” Meri retorted.

  “Fine. I’ll give it a try,” I said. “But I don’t know the first thing about healing magic.”

  “I’d do it myself, but it might be considered personal gain,” Remy said. “The jury is still out on that one.”

  “What do I do?” I asked.

  “Close your eyes,” Meri began. “Imagine a white light that starts from inside of you. Make that light travel down your arm to your hand. T
hen just envision the light from you covering his burn.”

  “And that will work?” It seemed too easy.

  “You can do it, Brighton,” Remy encouraged.

  “Tuttlesmiths are generally good with healing magic,” Meri said. “You’re probably not going to be able to heal a bullet wound or cure Ebola, but you can handle minor burns and the common cold.”

  So I did what he said, but instead of closing my eyes and imagining a white light, I found myself searching for it instead. Amazingly, it wasn’t something I had to dream up. It was just there. The light had been there all along, but I hadn’t connected to it.

  As the light passed down my arm and through my fingertips to Remy’s hand, he let out a soft sigh of relief. When I opened my eyes, he was smiling at me.

  “That was amazing, Brighton,” he said. “You may be new at this, but you have the potential to be a very powerful witch. No wonder you make the aunties nervous.”

  I wondered then if I should tell him about the apparition I’d seen of Langoria, but our dinner would get cold. “Let’s eat,” I said.

  After dinner, it was time to head over to the cemetery. I wanted to show Remy the photographs I’d taken, but we were losing the light. I figured I could show him another time.

  As we were walking across the street, I got a bad feeling. The hair on the back of my neck stood up and my stomach turned. Remy turned to look at me with a hint of apprehension in his eyes. He felt it too.

  “Something’s off,” he said.

  “I’m glad that wasn’t just my imagination,” I said. “Do you think we should still go in?”

  “I don’t see any point in avoiding it. You can’t hide from the bad stuff,” Remy said matter-of-factly. “I’ll go first. You stay behind me.”

  Again, I wondered if I should have told him about seeing Langoria in my living room, but I didn’t want to just stop in the middle of the road. I reasoned that I could tell him later when we were done in the graveyard for the evening. It was a discussion best left for a comfy chair and a cup of hot cocoa.

  The first thing I noticed as we climbed over the fence into the cemetery was the heavy silence. It was unusual not to hear crickets and the croaking of frogs. They could be quite loud in the area as evening approached. The frogs especially liked to kick up a cacophony at sunset.

  “Something is definitely wrong,” Remy said. “It’s too quiet.”

  Part of me wanted to go back, but I remembered what Remy had just said about not hiding from bad stuff. I certainly wasn’t going to let him face whatever it was alone. My worry was that it was Langoria lying in wait for me, but I figured she wouldn’t do anything with Remy, her nephew, there. He wouldn’t let anything happen to me.

  My fears were proven unfounded when we walked into the cemetery. No one was lying in wait. No one alive at least. But there was something wrong.

  At first, I thought someone had dug up one of the graves and the dark mound in the middle of the gravestones was the pile of dirt.

  It wasn’t.

  The realization of who it was didn’t hit me until I stood right over the body. Langoria Skeenbauer was dead. She was dead, and I’d found the body after having a public argument with her. She was dead in the woods across the street from my house. It was not going to look good.

  “Oh,” Remy said, and I saw his face got sheet white.

  “Remy, I’m so sorry,” I said.

  I didn’t think they’d been close, but by the look on his face, I could tell he was shaken. It could have been because his aunt meant more to him than I knew, or it might have just been because it was a dead body. We’d have to discuss it later. I didn’t want to even give the impression that I’d hesitated to call the police.

  “I need to call Thorn,” I said. “Do you need to sit down?”

  “Why do you need to call him?”

  There was an intensity to his voice. I wouldn’t say he sounded bitter, but the tone was close. At the very least, he seemed alarmed by the prospect.

  “He’s the sheriff,” I said.

  “Oh, right.” Remy shook his head as if he were trying to knock something loose. “I’m sorry. I’m just…” he trailed off.

  “It’s all right,” I said and watched him plop down on the ground and cross his legs.

  I dialed Thorn and waited. For a moment, I thought he wasn’t going to answer, and I’d have to call the county dispatcher. He picked up just before his phone would have gone to voicemail.

  “You’re joking, right?” Thorn said when I told him what we’d found. “If this is a prank, it’s not funny, Brighton.”

  “It’s not a prank, Thorn,” I said. “Remy and I came into the graveyard across from my house to work, and we found her.”

  “I see,” he said curtly. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  He hung up before I could say anything else. Thorn had seemed more upset than I expected, and I wondered if that was because I’d found another dead body or because I was with Remy.

  There was also the chance that it was because I’d gotten into it with Langoria that morning. The way the rumor mill worked in Coventry, it had probably made it back to him.

  I sat down on the ground next to Remy to wait. Neither one of us said anything, but at one point, he leaned into me so that our shoulders pressed together.

  A while later, I heard a car pull up on the road. “Brighton?” Someone called from the other side of the fence. I recognized the voice as Thorn’s.

  “I’m going to go get him,” I said to Remy, who stopped leaning against me.

  Thorn was waiting by his cruiser with his arms crossed over his chest. “If you tell me this is a joke now, I’ll let it go,” he said.

  “It’s really not a joke,” I said. “I’m not sure what made you think I would play a joke like this.”

  “Maybe to get back at me for not believing you about the note you found in your house after the break-in,” he said. “Maybe to get my attention. Well, Brighton, you’ve got it.”

  “You really think I’d want your attention so badly that I’d prank call in someone’s death?” I said, and it was my turn to cross my arms. “Maybe it’s a good thing you decided to ignore me.”

  “It probably was,” he said. “I mean, you’re in there with him again.”

  “You are so…”

  “Never mind, Brighton. This isn’t the time for us to be having a middle-school level spat. If there really is a dead body, then I need to do my job. Is she in there?” he said and pointed at the trees.

  “Yes.”

  As soon as I answered, he brushed past me. “Go home, Brighton. I’ll come talk to you later.”

  “Fine,” I said. “I just need to talk to Remy.”

  “Go home, Brighton,” Thorn said again. “If it’s a crime scene, then I need you to stay out of it. I’ll send Mr. Skeenbauer out.”

  “Fine.”

  I went home and left the front door unlocked. Remy didn’t come out of the cemetery behind me, so I assumed Thorn was getting his statement.

  A couple of hours later, I began to worry. I paced the living room and looked out the window every few minutes. Eventually, Thorn’s cruiser was joined by the coroner and the truck from the county volunteer firefighters. Not the big red truck for putting out fires, but the regular pickup truck they used for non-fire emergencies.

  After a while, everyone but Thorn left. I shot off a text to Remy asking him if he was all right as I watched Thorn back up his cruiser and then pull into my driveway. He didn’t answer right away, and it made my stomach ache.

  I went out to the porch to greet Thorn. “Can I come in?” he asked as he took off his hat. “Or do we have to talk out here because you have company?”

  “You can come in,” I said. “No one but me and the cat here.”

  He looked a little shocked. “I thought your friend would come back here when I was done talking to him.”

  “That’s what I thought too,” I said with a shrug.

  “May
be he took his aunt’s death hard,” Thorn offered. “I imagine he needed to go talk to his family too.”

  “That’s probably true,” I said.

  “I still would have thought he’d come talk to you before taking off,” he offered.

  “You’re trying to make me feel better even though you don’t approve of me spending time with him.”

  “It’s not that I don’t approve of you hanging out with Remy, Brighton. You can be friends with whoever you want, but I think we both know that Remy sees it as more than just friendship. What I haven’t figured out yet is if you feel the same way about him.”

  “So you’ve been avoiding me because you think I like Remy? That’s very noble of you.” The last part came out with a great deal more sarcasm than I’d expected.

  “I would think you’d respect that,” Thorn said. “I get the feeling you don’t.”

  “It’s not like I’m going to tell you that you should have at least tried to win me over. I’m not a carnival prize or anything. But…” I hesitated.

  Again, his expression softened. It was like that a lot with Thorn. He started out looking stern and standoffish, but then his expression would morph into something that looked almost like affection.

  “I’m not good at this stuff,” he said. “I didn’t want to force my way into your life if you didn’t want me there. I figured you found Remy more interesting.”

  “I couldn’t find him more interesting than you because I don’t know you well enough. You got so close and then just drew back.”

  “Perhaps it’s better that way,” he said stiffly.

  “You want some coffee? I can give you my statement about finding Langoria and then you can tell me why you are so reluctant to let me get to know you despite the fact that I can tell you want to get to know me.”

  He thought about it for a few seconds. “All right.”

  After I’d told him about having dinner with Remy and then walking across the street to the graveyard only to discover the body, I was ready to move on to discussing Thorn. He had another idea.