Upside Down Magic: A Feel-good Witchy Mystery (Good Bad Magic Book 6) by Isa Medina

Author:Isa Medina [Medina, Isa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2025-01-10T00:00:00+00:00

EIGHTEEN

The closet was empty.

My breath released in a low woosh.

If anyone had done a spell here, they had covered their tracks well. The wooden bottom was immaculate, perhaps recently waxed.

“This is where it happened?” I asked, feigning curiosity.

Jim crossed his arms. “This is where they found the man. Allegedly. Who knows where it happened.”

I crouched and touched the bottom plank with my fingers. In truth, I didn’t want to go anywhere near it, but I needed to find out if magic had been used here recently. “Is it true they didn’t find the body until after the servant died and he was still bleeding?” I awoke a sliver of magic while I waited for Jim’s response.

“Yep,” he said. “All gooey and gross.”

“What about the other rooms?” Ian asked from behind us. “Did something happen in them?”

Jim turned to answer him, and I used the distraction to cast my spell.

Detect.

Magic tingled on my fingertips as it spread onto the wood, but nothing bounced back. While magic dissipated fast, any spell powerful enough to reverse a paranormal’s magic would’ve left a long-lasting impression. If any such spell had been done here, it must’ve happened days ago at least.

“Thank you,” I said, standing. “This was most informative.”

Jim frowned. “That’s it? You’re not going to take pictures or anything?”

“I assumed the owner wouldn’t want pictures to appear on the internet.” I had assumed no such thing, but Jim did have a point—for someone who had made him come to open the house for us, I was showing too little interest.

“Nah,” Jim said. “They love that stuff. Brings in more people for the personal tours and the haunted house stuff. They get a cut, you know.”

“Makes sense.” Dutifully, I took several pictures with my phone, including one with Ian “for size” and one with me, victory fingers included, for my personal collection. Who knows, maybe one day I’d go on an Olmeda’s most disturbing murders tour and make an album out of it.

The idea had a special kind of macabre charm to it, so I asked if we could go upstairs where the wife had supposedly been buried in the walls so I could take another photo.

“Do the owners give private tours then?” I asked.

“Yeah, sometimes.”

“Do you know if they’ve come around recently?”

“How would I know? They do that stuff themselves.”

I wondered how to ask them without sounding suspicious. After mulling a few options I realized that nope, there was no way to ask that kind of question without sounding weird, so I changed tracks. “Are there any more legends about the house? I read the servant was part of some sort of coven.”

Jim might not be part of the paranormal community, but he was a local legends expert. He might’ve known some details others had dismissed as unimportant.

“That’s the story,” he said as he led us back to the front door. “You going to look into them too?”

“It’s not a bad idea. Do you know about them?”

“Not much, but the museum has a bunch of stuff about it.

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