“Please, let’s talk about this. Your magic will not respond the way it used to. It’s like calling up a friend after years of not speaking and asking for a loan. Your magic may have feelings about this!”

“Well, if that’s the case,” I said, heading for the French doors that led to backyard, “you’d better wish me luck.”

Because this witch was about to do some serious magic.

Chapter 33

A cool night breeze carried through the windows above my worktable in the main floor of the carriage house, flickering the candles I had placed around its edges. I wrapped my scarf in another loop around my neck as I eyed my handiwork. As far as I could see, I had just about everything I needed, and it was perfectly arranged.

I’d like to say my aunts would have approved of my craft, but I knew that wasn’t the case. Casting a spell on an entire bloodline, by myself, without the help of a coven, was not something they would approve of. Not at all. But I was desperate.

The purpose of the enchantment I had in mind was to make the target, or in this case, targets, believe something that wasn’t true, that rumors were being spread about them. And not just any rumors, but rumors of their deepest secrets. It was meant to induce paranoia and panic, and hopefully, in this case, prod the real murderer of Constance Graves to make a mistake. Once I had cast the spell, my plan was to go to the house of the person I suspected most and wait for the magic to do its work. The dilemma, of course, was choosing which family member to watch. Out of the four—Rip, Mary, John, and Liz—I was torn between Rip and Liz. I didn’t trust Rip for a second. I knew Maureen wasn’t exaggerating when she said lying came as easily as breathing for her husband, and out of all the siblings, he seemed to be the most bitter about being cut from his father’s will. But then there was Liz. I believed it was her nightgown I saw in Mr. Henderson’s security footage, and she was clearly trying to frame Nora for her aunt’s death. I couldn’t help but wonder what else she was hiding.

I wasn’t sure if I was making the right call, but in the end, I decided I would go to Liz’s house. Overall, she was a better candidate for the spell, as Rip’s natural arrogance might protect him from some of the paranoia. Only time would tell if I had chosen correctly.

I swept a bit of dust from the counter, sending a spider scuttling to the safety of the wall, and then lit three more candles, placing them in a triangle around the workspace. Time for the spell. I reached for the heavy grimoire I had brought in from the library, but a sudden flurry of wings in the window forced me back.

“Dog!”

I brought a hand to my heart as the crow found his footing. I had not been expecting visitors. Once I had recovered myself, I fixed the bird in my sights. “I suppose Gideon sent you?”