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

Speak for yourself. I personally had attended every coven meeting since my return to Briarton. Or one of them, to put it more succinctly.

“Do you think Jac could put in a word on our behalf?” I jerked my head at the closed kitchenette door. “If they’re still on good terms.”

“Sure.” Wes walked over to the small room. “And I’ll see what’s been keeping our tea. I’m parched.”

“I’ll make a note to question Gareth and Wendy about the temperature as well,” Patrick said. “Even if they didn’t consciously register it at the time, they might have noticed something different. Often when people say a chill ran down their spine, they don’t realise it’s because a spirit made the temperature plummet.”

I opened my mouth to ask how someone could tell him something they hadn’t consciously noticed, when I heard Wes shout out, “Jac? Are you in there?” A frantic bout of knocking followed, then the creak of a door opening. “Jac?”

Exchanging a glance with Patrick, I hurried over to the adjoining door. Wes stood at the side exit, staring into an empty alleyway. “He’s gone. Where’d he go?”

“Gone?” I pushed past him and looked down the narrow strip behind the shop. A large padlock affixed a gate at one end, while the other was blocked by a dumpster. “How?”

I twisted to look above me. The store was one storey but there wasn’t an outside fire escape or even a handy drainpipe to scale. The fence posts and beams were on the side facing away from the alley. I couldn’t imagine Jac being fit enough to pull himself up the smooth-sided planks, even if he’d desperately wanted to get away.

“He’s not in the bathroom,” Patrick said, coming outside. “I can’t see another way out of the shop, except through the main store.”

“There isn’t. This is the only…” Wes waved at the door, spinning on his heel again as a dog barked from a nearby street. “The key for the gate is hanging right there.” He pointed to a hook inside.

A sense of déjà vu swept over me.

Bad witch on the walls and Jac had disappeared, just like Violet.

I pointed a finger at Wes. “Shut the shop, go home, and wait until we talk to you again. We don’t want anybody else coming into danger.” Patrick nodded in agreement and I dialled Jared’s number. “Feel like being our muscle for the second time today? We need to talk to Evelyn Gibbs.”

Chapter Fourteen

Evelyn shouted, “Tell it to the police. I’m not interested.”

The door slammed shut in my face and Jared growled, the corner of his lip drawing back to show his enlarged eye teeth. He reached over to tap on the door again with his knuckle.

Evelyn pulled back the net curtain to check it was still us, then gestured rudely for us to go.

“Well, that was a giant success,” I muttered, planting my hands on my hips. “What we need is for Genevieve to issue us with large official-looking badges. If she’s so keen on police, then that should do the trick.”

“That and a Bushmaster rifle in the boot would do wonders, I’m sure, but I wouldn’t hold your breath.” Patrick took a step back and stared up at the second storey windows. “Can you hear a baby crying?”

I tilted my head to one side and concentrated. “Nope.”

Jared, too, shook his head. Given it was near his time-of-the-month, his hearing would be far superior to mine.

“So where’s Sara?”

I rolled my eyes. “Asleep? Babies aren’t turned up to full volume, twenty-four-seven, you know.”

“Or they’ve gone out for the day. They’re not on house arrest.” Jared sniffed along the side of the door until Evelyn yelled at him to get back. “The house smells of baby. Just a whiff, but it’s there.”

“We should be allowed to talk to them. Even if the police are also on the case, the coven needs to investigate the supernatural aspects of Violet’s disappearance.” He wiped a sleeve over his forehead, soaking up a thin sheen of sweat. “This is an outrage to my profession.”

<I could try to talk to her if you want.> I glanced back at the car, where Annalisa’s head hung out of the window. <Her familiar is a cockapoo named Clarence, so I’m more than willing to take him on.>

“You shouldn’t be fighting familiars on our account.” I bit on the corner of my lip, feeling the brief spurt of energy from our drive across town fading away. “What would that get us, anyway?”

<Satisfaction.> She stuck her tongue out like a snake tasting the air. <Never underestimate the power of a good threat.>

I decided to head in the opposite direction. “Evelyn, please talk to us. Jac went missing the same way Violet did. Anything and everything you know could be helpful to the case.”

The door flung open, Evelyn’s eyes blazing. “I’ve called the police and told them you’re trespassing and won’t leave. Explain your weird reasons to them. I’m done listening.”

She tried to slam the door and I stuck my foot in the way. Pain shot up my leg as my toes crunched in the wood sandwich. My sneaker wasn’t up to the task of withholding pressure from both sides.

The expectation that Evelyn would open the door to let me free was soon replaced with the horrific pain of reality as she continued to press it closed.

“Help.” I sent a bolt of magic out from my fingertips, unable to control the release any more than a flimsy gate could hold back Black Friday shoppers. The wood crunched and the door rolled up like the world’s largest cigarette paper.

“What are you doing?” If I’d thought Evelyn was in a mood before, I soon stood corrected. Her face turned a mottled crimson, then darkened further until I thought it would explode. “That’s my door!!!”

“Technically, it’s now just a bit of firewood in a jamb,” Patrick said with a grin. “But if you answer our questions and act very, very nicely,