How to Stone a Crow (Witch Like a Boss Book 2) by Willow Mason (great novels txt) 📕

“Like he cut someone off in traffic once and felt terrible about it for ages. Another time he wrote a letter to the editor that he regretted, but it still got published.”

“About what?”

Pru chewed her bottom lip. “It was to do with the traffic lights at the corner of Harmon’s Road. Andrew thought the roundabout was safer and shouldn’t have been replaced.”

“Wow. Heavy stuff.” Gareth tried and failed to disguise his laugh as a cough. “Not the best motive I’ve heard of for murder.”

“People kill each other for fun,” Wendy said, chewing on her knuckle. “My teacher told me all about it.”

Her dad turned bright purple. “Mr Mallory told you what?”

“During the middle ages, they used to do terrible things. He said that law enforcement would pull people apart and set fire to others while they were still alive. They’d sell tickets to the executions and make them gory just to entertain the crowds.”

<That’s because they didn’t have the telly back then,> Paisley reassured her. <It’s different nowadays.>

“Except, we’re all descended from the folks who committed those acts or watched them being done.” Wendy’s eyes widened to the point she could be in anime. “It’s more likely that we’re worse, even if we’re better at keeping it on the inside.”

The thought made my head hurt and, glancing around the room, I saw I wasn’t the only one.

“I think your teacher might have overplayed how common it was,” Gareth said in a calming tone that sounded well practised. “If everyone was being executed in horrible ways, we wouldn’t have anyone left.”

<It’s like the tales of witches being burned at the stake,> Paisley said, snuggling against the girl’s ankles. <If they killed as many as history tries to tell us, what are we all doing here?>

“We might have veered a bit off-topic here.” Patrick disappeared into our office, emerging a moment later with one of his smaller contraptions. “See here? This is for telling how much evil people have in them.” He turned the display towards her. “This needle shows the readings. If anyone in this room was capable of even a fraction of what your teacher described, it would be sitting in the red.”

“Can I try it?”

After a short conversation between their raised eyebrows, Patrick handed it over while Gareth’s back stiffened.

Wendy spun around in a circle—her nose pressed so close to the machine that her breath fogged the glass. “You’re all scoring so low it doesn’t seem there’s a single drop of evil in you.”

I laughed at the disappointment in her voice. “Please remember, that’s a good thing. We’ve got enough folks in the world thinking witches are bad without one of our own believing the same.”

Patrick cleared his throat.

“Or one of our allies,” I amended.

<You should try his workplace.>

I stroked Annalisa’s head while trying to course-correct enough to follow her conversation. “You mean Andrew’s office?”

<Well, duh. If we put aside pure bloodlust as a reason to murder, then another obvious motive is the promotion he was trying so hard to get. I’m guessing he wasn’t the only one in the running.>

“Or this is some horrible black witchcraft type of thing,” I suggested. “How would we know if someone used an evil spell to kill him off?”

<Magic leaves traces.> Annalisa shook her head slowly in the long-suffering way I’d grown used to since returning home. <Emilie Beauregard was supreme at the time and would’ve checked.>

“So it has to be someone human.”

“Or someone who doesn’t leave evidence behind,” Wendy added. “Just because magic usually leaves traces doesn’t mean it always does or that someone can’t learn how to disguise them.”

A lovely thought. The future looked to be in safe and sceptical hands.

“Good luck with tracking down his work colleagues.” Patrick had his phone out, scrolling with such fixed intensity, I assumed it must be related to the investigation. “It’s not the seventies anymore so staying at one firm for fifteen years is a stretch.”

“Did you stay in touch with any of them?” I asked Pru.

“No. Andrew was a stickler for keeping his work and home life separate, so he neglected to invite me along when they issued invites for family.” My face must have registered shock because she laughed. “I preferred it that way, too. It saved me having to think of an excuse not to attend.”

“Piermont Training and Human Resource Services, is that right?” Patrick turned his screen to face Pru, smiling when she nodded. “Do you recognise any of the names listed?”

She took the cell phone out of his hand and examined it through squinting eyes. “Solomon Armstrong definitely worked there at the same time,” she said at last, handing it back. “The others don’t sound familiar.” She shrugged. “Not that it means they weren’t there. His boss at the time was Raymond Burns but I don’t see him listed.”

Patrick clicked a few buttons and gave a smile. “We’ve got an appointment, bright and early tomorrow morning. Now, how about we forget all about the case for a while and veg out in front of the TV?”

A fine plan.

Later, once everyone had settled in their rooms, being good sports about the dust and stuffiness trapped in each one, I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling. Jared padded by the doorway, popping his head in to say goodnight and seeming relieved I was alone. I don’t know what he was expecting, but having lived with him for five years he should have known full well I wasn’t that type of girl.

It felt odd for us both to be under the same roof again, albeit just for the one night. I was used to wrenching my thoughts away from what Patrick might be doing in his room at night, but Jared was a new twist.

<Could you stop? Some of us are trying to sleep.>

I threw up a wall of tongue twisters so I could call my mind my own but soon tired of the game as my brain slowed for the night.

The next thing I knew, a scream jerked