That Olde White Magick. Sharon Pape
Cover Copy
It’s time to work her crime-solving magic again . . .
Kailyn Wilde enjoys running her shop, Abracadabra, in the quaint New York hamlet of New Camel, where she lives with her six cats. Her family’s been here for centuries, and she’d like to keep up the tradition. But the place may never be the same if a big hotel gets built, so she does her civic duty and attends a town meeting along with her aunt Tilly . . . and Merlin. Yes, that Merlin—though he gets introduced to folks as her “distant English cousin.” The wizard is pretty grumpy about being transported here, but there are things about the modern world he doesn’t mind—like pizza.
Kailyn was prepared for a heated debate about the hotel, but she wasn’t expecting murder. When Tilly finds the body of a board member outside the schoolhouse, Kailyn doesn’t want any suspicion cast on the wrong person. She plans to crack this case, even if she has to talk to every living soul in town—plus a few departed ones . . .
there are things about the modern world he doesn’t mind—like pizza.
Kailyn was prepared for a heated debate about the hotel, but she wasn’t expecting murder. When Tilly finds the body of a board member outside the schoolhouse, Kailyn doesn’t want any suspicion cast on the wrong person. She plans to crack this case, even if she has to talk to every living soul in town—plus a few departed ones . . .
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Books by Sharon Pape
Magick & Mayhem
Sketcher in the Rye
Alibis and Amethysts
Sketch a Falling Star
To Sketch a Thief
Sketch Me if You Can
Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation
That Olde White Magick
An Abracadabra Mystery
Sharon Pape
LYRICAL PRESS
Kensington Publishing Corp.
www.kensingtonbooks.com
Copyright
Lyrical Press books are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp. 119 West 40th Street New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2017 by Sharon Pape
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First Electronic Edition: November 2017
eISBN-13: 978-1-5161-0057-6
eISBN-10: 1-5161-0057-3
First Print Edition: November 2017
ISBN-13: 978-1-5161-0058-3
ISBN-10: 1-5161-0058-1
Printed in the United States of America
Dedication
To my mom—until I see you again. Thanks for the ducks.
Acknowledgment
A special thank you to my editor, Michaela Hamilton, for her wise guidance and support. It’s so much easier to create magick with an editor like her.
W.B. Yeats Quote
The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.
—W. B. Yeats
Chapter 1
“Every living soul in this town must be here tonight,” my aunt Tilly remarked as I pulled into the last parking spot at the New Camel Elementary School. It was the school I attended as a child, the school my aunt, my mother, and my grandmother had attended, as well as generations of Wildes before them. It had started out as a one-room schoolhouse and had been expanded over the years to accommodate fourteen classrooms, kindergarten through sixth grade. It still sat on the crest of Johnson’s Hill at the eastern end of town. I loved the tradition and continuity it represented, the warmth of hometown I felt whenever I passed by.
“I’m not surprised,” I said, turning off the engine. “Everyone I talk to has an opinion on the matter, a very definite opinion.”
“We’d better hustle our bustles and get in there before all the seats are taken.”
Tilly took off her seat belt, opened the car door, and nearly slid right out courtesy of her silk muumuu-clad bottom. I reached for her arm to stop her, but I still had my seat belt on, and she was too far away. At the last moment, she grabbed the doorjamb to stop herself.
“Whoops,” she said with a gasp and a giggle. “That was like a carnival ride. I need to stop wearing such slippery fabrics, or you’ll be scooping me off the pavement one day.”
Merlin emerged from the back seat, grousing. “I cannot fathom why I am being compelled to attend a meeting, in which I have neither interest nor purpose. I am not a citizen of this town or, for that matter, of this state, this country, or this particular period in time.”
My aunt and I let him grumble on without comment. It wasn’t the first time he’d serenaded us with that particular tune. We joined the stream of people entering the school and heading down the hallway to the gymnasium. People were calling out hellos or stopping to share quick hugs, which caused everyone else to detour around them like water around a jetty. As a result, the normally short walk to the gym was taking far longer than it should have, but I had no right to complain. I was as guilty as everyone else. That’s what happens when the residents of a small town congregate in one place. Merlin, on the other hand, griped enough for both of us. He knew only a few people, and he regarded the traffic snarl as a plot to keep him from his TV shows.
In spite of all the open windows, the building had a stale, musty odor from being closed most of the summer, and the late August heat wave was making matters worse. At least there was some decent cross ventilation going when we reached the gym. Rusty Higgins, the sum total of the school’s custodial staff, had propped open the two large emergency exit doors in the back.
The gym had always been big enough to host the town board meetings, but tonight it was overcrowded, the walls bulging with people. The air vibrated with tension, and the loud droning of all their voices made me feel like I was walking into a massive beehive. In hindsight, not the best place to have brought Merlin, who was twitchy and out of his element under the best of circumstances. Tilly and I had debated for days about whether to take him. Despite the jeans and shirt we bullied him into wearing, his raging white hair and beard set him apart from the local population. There was no way around it. He was already drawing blatant stares of curiosity. On the other hand, leaving him home alone, where the deadly combination