If the Broom Fits by Shéa MacLeod

Author:Shéa MacLeod [MacLeod, Shéa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: paranormal women's fiction, paranormal cozy mystery, murder mystery, magic, witches
Publisher: Sunwalker Press
Published: 2023-10-29T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

I stared at the Golden Girls, mouth agape. “Wait a minute, Agnes put a spell on my mother? Why? When?” The only clue I had that they even knew each other at all was a decades-old Polaroid I’d found in my grandmother’s things. Why on Earth would Agness put a spell on my mom?

“Oh, the when is easy,” Stella said. “Fifty years ago, almost exactly.”

I felt a little faint. Four years before I was born. Before my mother even met my father. “How exactly?”

Harriet’s expression was one of sympathy. “A few days after your mother arrived in town.”

So they knew about my mom’s arrival in town. The fact that the time frame coincided with the date the spell—whatever it was for—was cast was... interesting. “Why did Agnes cast a spell? And what for? And why’d you help her?”

“Listen, as interesting as this all is, I need to get ready for my date,” Daphne said, heading toward the hall. “Got some freshening up to do, if you get my drift.”

“No, Daphne, we do not get your drift,” Maude said. “Whatever do you mean?”

“I think we do get her drift, dear,” Harriet said. She glanced over at Daphne. “Tell us more about the lucky fella. Other than he’s hung, literally, like a horse.”

I held back a guffaw. I guess she was still seeing the centaur.

Daphne paused and waved her off. “Oh, you don’t know him. He’s new in town. Now, I’ve gotta go, but I’m sure the girls can help you, Juniper. This was mostly Harriet’s doing anyway. Toodle-oo!”

I slid a glance at Harriet who’d busied herself putting more cookie dough on baking sheets. “Is that so?”

She sighed. “Yes, it is.”

I crossed my arms. “Well?”

She carefully placed her spoons onto a spoon rest and stepped back from the cookie dough. “Let me make some tea, and we’ll sit on the porch and talk.”

“You’re procrastinating,” I accused.

“She is,” Maude agreed. “I’ll make the tea. You two go sit on the porch.”

“I’m coming, too.” Stella rose from her stool, clearly not about to let juicy gossip get by her.

Harriet pushed her back down. “No, you’re not. I need to talk to JJ, and I can’t do it with you making snarky comments.”

“Can I help it if the world is full of stupid people? There’s too much fodder.” Stella shrugged and went back to her crossword.

I followed Harriet to the back door and out onto the porch. At night, there wasn’t much of a view. At least not to me—I was pretty sure the Golden Girls could see just fine—but that wasn’t important right now. Right now, all I wanted were answers.

Harriet flipped a switch, and strings of fairy lights came on. We sat in plush armchairs at a small patio table, and Harriet leaned back, eyes closed, as if trying to collect her thoughts. She let out a deep sigh. “Right. I guess I should start at the beginning.”

“That would be good.” Somebody needed to.

“Fifty years ago, Agnes came across a young woman whose car had broken down on the highway.

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