Witches' Spells by Morgana Best

Author:Morgana Best
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781925674644
Publisher: Best Cosy Books

Chapter 11

Once again I had enlisted Linda to help me. She didn’t seem too thrilled with the prospect.

“But he’ll be suspicious,” she complained. In fact, she had protested the entire way to the Finnegans’ property, which was a considerable way out of town.

I shook my head. “No, I’m sure he won’t be. He’ll really believe our story.” I hoped I sounded convincing, but I wasn’t too sure about our plan, either.

“Do you actually think he’ll believe we’re university students wanting to take hair samples to test for iron contamination in the population of Lighthouse Bay?” Linda asked me, a look of disbelief on her face.

I shrugged. “Why not?”

“Maybe because his wife has been complaining that a large chunk of her hair has suddenly gone missing!” Linda frowned deeply.

“Um, sure it’s hair,” I said slowly, “so there is that in common, but we’re not asking to cut a piece out of his hair. We’re only asking for a few strands of hair. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Linda folded her arms over her chest. “He might scream abuse at us and kick us out of his house.”

“Would that be so bad?” I said in a pleading tone. “Either he’ll kick us out, or he’ll give us a hair sample. Besides, you saw him at the funeral. He isn’t the type to stand up to anybody. He seems quite meek and mild.”

Linda snorted rudely. “Sure, with Francine, that is. He’s a total pussycat with her, completely browbeaten. He might be vicious with everyone else.”

I opened my car door. “I suppose we’re about to find out. Let’s get this over with.” I jumped out of the car, and to my relief, Linda did, too. She was still muttering to herself, but at least it looked like she was going to go through with it. Just as I walked around the car, Linda caught my arm. “Are you sure that dreadful Francine isn’t home?”

“I’m absolutely positive. She’s at the weekly lunch for the Country Women’s Association. Aunt Agnes is there, keeping an eye on her. She will call us if she leaves. It’s all perfectly safe.”

Linda glowered at me. “Okay then. I just hope he doesn’t ask to see ID.”

I must admit, I did feel somewhat intimidated walking up to the Finnegans’ house. It was more a mansion than a house, a truly magnificent late Federation, Gothic building that had been fully restored. Rumour had it that it used to be an orphanage, and before that, a gathering place for some sort of ritual magic. Some years ago, a developer bought it and turned it into several townhouses, and then the Finnegans bought it and converted it to one residence. The building was an imposing liver brick with pale cream brick and stone dressings. It was two storeys tall with a steeply pitched iron roof and featured several turrets. Everything about it screamed expense.

“It looks as though they should have a butler,” Linda said in awe, as we walked up to the front porch.

I raised the heavy iron knocker and knocked, before Linda pointed to an electronic button.

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