Grape Sugar Sorcery (A Candy & Chaos Cozy Mystery Book 2) by Sara Bourgeois

Author:Sara Bourgeois [Bourgeois, Sara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-05-21T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

Ethan returned from the courthouse with a folder thick with documents, his brows knit in concentration. I leaned over the counter of Sucre Bleu, my curiosity getting the better of me as he spread the papers out.

“This is interesting,” he said, tapping a finger on a photocopied deed. “Most of this land, including where we found that trapdoor, is owned by Winchester LLC.”

“Winchester?” I repeated, trying to keep my voice even. “Never heard of them. Are they local?”

He shook his head. “Can’t find much about them. It’s like they exist just on paper. No board of directors listed, no business operations. Just a PO box and a lot of land holdings.”

Mention of concealed proprietors sent a chill coursing through me—it reeked of hidden realities and dubious connections.

“That’s not just suspicious; it’s practically a red flag waving in a thunderstorm,” I said, keeping my gaze fixed on the papers as if they might reveal more secrets under my stare.

Ethan leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking under his weight. “Yeah, and here’s another thing—Winchester LLC started buying up property around here exactly seventy years ago.”

My mind raced back to what he’d found in the archives about ritual activity stopping around that time. “That can’t be a coincidence.”

“Nope.” He scratched at his stubble. “We’re definitely onto something.”

Ethan’s discovery of Winchester LLC’s mysterious land holdings clung to my thoughts like cobwebs to an old bookshelf. I felt a tingle of magic at my fingertips, an urge to dive into the shadows of the past and pull forth answers, but I resisted. Ethan couldn’t know that side of me—not yet.

We stood side by side in Sucre Bleu, the afternoon sun casting a warm glow over the candy displays. “We should check out Winchester’s listed office,” Ethan suggested, folding the property records and tucking them into his jacket.

I nodded, biting my lip. “It’s worth a shot. But if it’s a front, we might hit another wall.”

“We won’t know until we try.” His voice held that detective’s determination I found both admirable and slightly reckless.

The ride to the Winchester office was silent, each of us lost in our own thoughts. The building itself loomed like a specter from a bygone era, its windows dark, the paint peeling from its wooden facade.

Ethan parked his motorcycle at the curb, and we approached the entrance. He tried the door—it was unlocked but resisted with the groan of long disuse. We stepped inside, dust motes dancing in the shafts of light piercing through gaps in the boarded-up windows.

The interior was as lifeless as a forgotten crypt. Old furniture lay draped in white sheets like ghosts at a gathering. Layers of dust coated every surface; it was clear no one had conducted business here for years.

“Well, this is cheerful,” I quipped, trying to dispel the unease that crept up my spine.

Ethan’s eyes scanned the room, his investigator’s gaze missing nothing. “Looks like no one’s been here for ages.” Disappointment laced his tone.

I wandered deeper into the room, running a finger along a dusty shelf.

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