Everyday Witches

After dinner, Marge cleared the dishes from the table while Jeff went into their room to shower. The kids had ducked out as soon as the last bite was gone, leaving a table full of dishes and a messy kitchen. Marge sighed as she stacked the plates and carried them into the kitchen, depositing them in the sink. Usually she wouldn’t put up with this, but she needed some time to think right now anyway, and a little housework might help clear her mind. It was Brandon’s turn to help clear the table, but he’d been a little off lately. Ever since the whole Quepie incident actually. She’d asked him about it several times but he hadn’t had much to say about it. According to James and Jude, everything seemed to have gone smoothly, but Brandon definitely had been acting a little differently ever since. Maybe it was just the fact that he’d never been asked to participate in something like that before. Usually the young witches took to that type of stuff like fish to water, but sometimes actually experiencing it firsthand could be difficult.

It was the only drawback in raising the children completely in the human world for their first thirteen years of life. Sometimes being introduced to something so different, and then being expected to hide it from half of your life could be hard on the young bucks. There were a few young witches in town close to Brandon’s age, but his best friend was still a human boy that he’d known since childhood. She hoped that he wasn’t having a hard time with keeping things from him. Anyway, she’d decided to take it easy on him when he’d said that he needed to study and asked to be excused from the table.

She was worried about the whole incident with the burglary and murder too. Jeff had told her when he came home that he’d spoken with the relatives of the man who’d been murdered and that there hadn’t been any leads as to why he’d been targeted by a witch. The man had been a successful stock broker and had probably had plenty of money, but no apparent ties to the magical community. And there hadn’t been any evidence at the crime scene to suggest who might be behind the murder. If she and Jude didn’t turn up some leads on their end, this investigation probably wouldn’t be going anywhere. And she really didn’t like the idea of someone that dangerous being out on the streets, perhaps planning another attack right now.

Marge had cleared up the table and most of the kitchen when Jeff wandered back into the room, freshly showered and changed. He came up beside her and grabbed a dish towel, reaching a hand out for the pan that she’d just finished washing. Marge handed it to him and then wrapped an arm around his back, pulling him in close. He leaned over and kissed her gently on the forehead, holding his arms away from her blouse so the dish and towel wouldn’t soak into her clothes.

“You okay, honey,” Jeff asked, softly. “You were pretty quiet over dinner.” She nodded but didn’t respond and he set the dish and towel on the counter beside the sink; putting his arms around her in return.

Marge waited a moment before responding, taking the time to savor the spicy scent of his body wash and aftershave and enjoying the feel of his arms wrapped around her. Exhaling softly against his shoulder, she said finally, “Mmm, I’m fine sweetie. I’m just worried. What with the whole murder business, and the fact that Brandon has been distant, and then Ricky’s initiation coming up next weekend.” She patted him softly on the chest with both hands and then reached up to give him a quick kiss. Then she turned back to the sink and the pile of dishes that still needed to be washed; picking up a spatula and scrubbing hastily with a worn sponge.

“Don’t worry so much about it sweetie,” Jeff responded, moving in behind her to massage her shoulders. “Brandon will be fine. He’s just at that age where he’s going to have to decide where his life will go from here.” He paused. “I think maybe that Quepie shook him a little bit, but hopefully the experience will help him to decide exactly how he’d like to handle his life from here. Jude is a huge help in things like that and if Brandon decides to take a more active role in the magical side of life, then great. Or maybe he didn’t like it too much and will decide to follow my own path more. I don’t know. But he’ll be eighteen before long and I’m sure it’s all weighing heavy on him right now. Just give him some time to work through it.”

He finished massaging her shoulders and pulled gently on an arm until she turned to face him. His concern deepened the smile lines that were etched around his eyes and his mouth. “As for the murder, we’ll handle it. Jude told me that you went off on Phoenix earlier and I know that it must really be upsetting you, but I really think that whoever this guy is, it’s not as bad as it appears to be. The actual murder was most likely an accident. The witch is definitely not a super great guy, but I don’t think we need to worry about it happening again soon. And I’m sure we’ll turn up some leads once we do a little more digging.” He clasped his hands on her arms, shaking them gently, and smiled softly. “And we ought to be excited about Ricky’s initiation. It’s not something to worry about. It’s a huge right of passage and it’ll be fun. We’ve got everything planned and ready now, all we have to do is celebrate.”

Marge gave him a small smile in return. “You’re right. It’s just hard to feel festive about it with this other thing going on. What if we haven’t caught the killer by the time the initiation rolls around? How are we going to relax and enjoy it?”

“We will, honey. Don’t worry. We have plenty of time. And even if we haven’t found him by then we’ll still take the time out to celebrate our son. He deserves it. It’ll all turn out wonderfully, I promise.” A trilling sound rang out from his cell phone and he dug into his pocket for it. Looking at the caller ID he said, “It’s work, honey, I have to take this. I’m sorry…” He walked towards the living room, sliding a finger across the phone’s face to answer the call. Marge turned back towards the sink full of dishes, listening as he answered the phone and then walked far enough down the hall that his voice faded out. She was sure that they’d work things out just fine too. It was just hard raising a family and knowing that there was danger lurking around the corner.

Eventually, the dishes were done and the kids were tucked away in bed. Jeff had gone to bed too, since he never knew when he might need to head in to work, and would definitely need to be up early in the morning anyway. Marge had decided that since she and Jude were going to be doing a little more investigating, she probably ought to make sure that they were prepared, regardless of the outcome. Right now, she was digging through the cabinet hiding place where she kept her spell books and supplies.

Luckily, she and Jeff knew a witch who was handy with tools and, when they had moved into their house he had installed a secret panel in the back of the pantry for them. Removing the cereal boxes that sat on the middle shelf, she pressed each of the four sides of a hidden panel; releasing the latch and causing another hidden shelf that usually lay hidden in the wall to pop out. It was a good system; better than a wall safe, really. Nobody would ever expect to find a hidden compartment in a pantry. And it kept her potions and supplies within close proximity to the kitchen, so she didn’t have to lug them halfway across the house every time she wanted to use them.

She browsed through the volumes of spells that sat to one side of the shelf, finding the one she wanted and then setting it aside on the counter. Then she pulled out a large metal container that held various types of herbs and a few rarer items that could be used for your run of the mill spells that she often made. Behind the large container was a smaller, stoneware container with an interlocking lid that held her prized items that were much rarer and more rarely used. She set both on the counter beside the book of spells and then gently pushed the extendable shelf back into place. Once it had receded back into the wall she also swung the little panel door back into place, pushing on it gently until it locked. No reason to keep the safe open while it wasn’t in use. It was a habit she’d instilled in herself years ago, when all three of the children had been young.

Leaving the supplies on the counter by the pantry, Marge picked up the spell book and took it over to the kitchen table. Settling in to the seat closest to the window, so that she could keep an eye on the hallway just in case, she opened the book to the index at the back. Annabelle, who had been in the den watching a nature show on TV, flew into the room and settled delicately on the table beside the book.

“Whatcha doing,” the fairy asked, leaning over to look at the book on the table.

“Just working out some spells,” Marge replied, grabbing her reading glasses from their perch on the windowsill by the table and plunking them onto her nose. “Jude is going to need another batch of his binding serum soon, and I’m thinking about working up a little something extra for protection when we go to interview those other witches tomorrow.”

Annabelle nodded sagely, her shoulder length tresses bouncing with the exaggerated movement. Because she was so small, she overemphasized all of her nonverbal cues, since the humans often failed to pick up on them when she didn’t. It contributed greatly to the childish air that she gave off, but Annabelle didn’t mind. She liked to be understood.

“I’m just not sure what exactly I’ll need here,” Marge continued. “A defensive potion for sure, but I might go out on a limb and bring an offensive spell with me too. Just in case.” She pushed her glasses up to the top of her head and looked at Annabelle with a worried expression. The tiny fae may appear childish to most people, but Marge treated her as an equal and valued her input. “I’m worried about this witch who committed that burglary and then murdered the man. He may not have meant to do it, but now that he’s killed someone he might be really dangerous. Surely he knows that we’ll be looking for him and he’ll be on the lookout too. And he won’t have much to lose now. He’s already crossed the line.” She ran a pink painted fingernail down the index of the book, perusing the options. “What do you think,” she asked Annabelle.

“I think that you’re right to be cautious,” the fairy replied. “He may not have expected things to end up as badly as they did, but you’re right, he’s in it now and there’s no turning back.” She stood and daintily stepped closer to the edge of the book, reading the list of spells that Marge was interested in. Then, clasping her hands in front of herself as she often did, she turned to peer up at Marge. “I think you ought to go in for the offensive spell too, if you can. You know, he’s not going to want to face whatever punishment you guys might have in store for him. There’s a good chance that he’s either going to run or attack.” The fairy’s face pinched in worry and she glided over to touch the back of Marge’s hand with her own tiny hand. She often sought out touch when she was worried and began to rub small circles on the back of Marge’s hand now.

Marge smiled wistfully at her small friend, worried as well. “Just as I thought too, Annabelle,” she replied softly. “I’m not used to using these types of potions, but I’m sure I can whip one up, all the same.” She looked thoughtful, glancing from the fairy to the book page and then back again. “You know, I used to do this stuff all the time, as a girl; but lately the only potion I make regularly is Jude’s binding potion.” She shook her head and laughed softly. “Who am I kidding, of course you know. You’ve been there through all of it. I guess I’m just more nervous than I’d realized. And I may have made my share of potions in my day, but I’ve never had to use an offensive potion on someone. But I will if I have to.” Annabelle had stopped nervously stroking the back of her hand and Marge brought the hand up to tuck her curls behind her ears. “And I don’t want you to worry too much,” she continued, as an afterthought. She had been worrying so much herself that she hadn’t stopped to think of what might happen to Annabelle if something were to happen to her. She was sure that the fairy must be just as worried as she was. “We’ll get everything under control just fine. And Jude will be there too. I’m sure that between the two of us we can handle whatever might come up.” She held a hand out, and Annabelle gingerly stepped forward until her feet were lodged securely in the crevasses between two fingers. Marge brought her hand up until the fairy was at eye level with her. She held out the index finger of her free hand towards her small friend and Annabelle clasped it between both her hands. It was hard being affectionate whenever your friend was a fraction of your size, but the two had managed to work it out over the years.

Setting her gently back onto the table, Marge turned her attention back to the book. “Okay,” she said determinedly, “I think what we should go for would be a shield spell, of course, and a plank spell. I’ve been able to whip up a shield spell that’ll work for about ten minutes or so and, if needed, it should block anything with ill intention from harming us during that time. And while I’ve never tried the plank spell before, it’s similar enough to the transformation spells I’ve done in the past that it shouldn’t be a problem. This one is supposed to turn the body of the spell’s recipient completely rigid until the spell is broken. That way we can incapacitate him until Jeff arrives, if we need to. Then he can decide what to do with him from there.” She looked at Annabelle, an eyebrow raised in question.

The fairy nodded vigorously in agreement. “I think that’s a perfect idea.”

“Okay, it’s settled then,” Marge responded, clapping her hands together emphatically. She pushed her chair back from the table and stood. “I’ll be right back,” she said to Annabelle. Then she walked across the living room and down the hall to their bedroom. There was just one more thing she would need in order to complete her spells tonight.

Sneaking quietly across the room so as not to wake Jeff, Marge crept to the large walk-in closet. She opened the door and slipped inside, leaving it open just enough to reach a hand out to switch the light on and then closed the door behind her. In the back of the closet was an old dresser where she kept some of the seasonal items that didn’t need to be left out year round. And nestled in among them was a large box filled with empty glass vials, like the kind that perfume samples come in. When she had first started making Jude’s binding potion she had needed some way to store it, and before she’d settled on the large crystal stopper bottle she’d used these small vials. They would be perfect for this situation too. They would make the potions easy for her to access, as well as looking innocuous enough if anyone were to see them and ask her about them. Everyone knew that she did a lot of baking and made small gifts at the holidays and things; perfume making wouldn’t be too far of a stretch.

Grabbing the box of vials, Marge exited the closet and moved silently back across the room. She stopped at the doorway, her hand on the knob, and looked back at Jeff. He was snoring softly, his hair sleep tousled and his face peaceful. The man may irritate her to no end sometimes with his over protectiveness, but he did love and respect her, and she loved him dearly as well. Tiptoeing back into the room, she circled the bed and leaned down to kiss him on the forehead. Then she sneaked back to the kitchen, vials in tow, and set to work.

**

The next morning, after the kids had gone off to school and Jeff had left for work, Marge gathered the vials of potions that she had whipped up the night before. This morning she had found a nearly empty cardboard gum container in Cade’s room that was the perfect size for the little bottles. Sliding each one into a little partitioned slot, she then closed the lid carefully and tucked it away in a pocket. Spells like these didn’t last forever and she hadn’t wanted to overdo it so she had made just enough that she and Jude would both have five of each. Certainly that would be enough. Actually, she hoped dearly that it would, in fact, be overdoing it; but she’d rather be prepared just in case.

She was due to meet up with Jude at Gage’s second hand shop in about half an hour. Although she didn’t really expect to need either of the spells while at the shop, she didn’t know where things might lead from there. He might have an idea of who might be behind this. Hopefully he would anyway. Once she had finished her potions, Marge had lain awake for quite a while the night before, worrying about the whole thing. Knowing that the witch who had murdered that man was running around out there doing God knew what was enough to keep her on edge; and she’d be really glad to put the whole thing behind them. It was less than a week already until Ricky’s initiation and she ought to be focusing on preparations for the event rather than tracking down a murdering witch. But that was life sometimes.

Figuring that she was as ready as she’d ever be, Marge grabbed her purse and, after Annabelle was situated, headed for her car. Gage’s shop was only about ten minutes away from the house, but she didn’t want to sit around waiting. And this way she would have time to stop for coffee on the way. A few miles from her house there was a little coffee shop, owned by a witch she knew. ‘Local Brews’, they called it. Marge loved the name, and the coffee was even better. Plus, for a few extra dollars the local witches could add a shot of just about any mood boosting potion you could think of. It wasn’t the kind of thing a witch would want to use regularly, but on occasion it could be quite helpful. Just like any human made drug, these things could be addictive and would lose their effectiveness with overuse, but right now she could really use some focus and a confidence boost. After the way things went yesterday with Phoenix, she wanted to be on her best game this time.

Settling her purse (and Annabelle) into the passenger seat, Marge tuned the radio to her favorite station and put the car in gear. A few minutes later, they pulled up at Local Brews and she angled the car into the drive thru lane. There were a few cars ahead of her, but she should still have plenty of time to pick up her coffee and be at Gage’s shop in time to meet Jude. Tapping her foot along in time to the music, she waited patiently for several minutes. The first two cars in line had picked up their orders and gone, but the car right in front of Marge had been stalled in front of the window for what seemed like a long time now. Pulling out her phone in frustration, Marge sent Jude a quick text and then jammed a finger into the button to change the station on the radio. Drumming her fingernails on the steering wheel impatiently, she turned to complain to Annabelle. It would be hard to hear the fairy’s muffled response from inside the purse, but Marge knew that she could hear her just fine.

She looked up as the muffled sound of raised voices drifted across the air and noticed the driver in the car in front of her gesturing animatedly. An arm popped out of the drive thru window, pointing at the driver and returned the angry gestures. Finally, the server handed something out the window to the driver, who then pealed out of the parking lot, squealing his tires loudly as he accelerated rapidly onto the street. Marge huffed in distaste and pulled her car up to the open window. Surprisingly, the owner himself stood behind the window, and he greeted Marge with a tired smile.

“Juan,” Marge exclaimed, instantly mollified. “How nice to see you! I didn’t expect to see you behind the window today.” She smiled brightly and reached up to tuck her hair back behind her ear.

“Good to see you too, Marge,” Juan replied, voice friendly but lacking enthusiasm. His lined face looked more tired than usual.

Marge looked apologetic. “I’m sorry, I’m in a rush this morning, but is everything okay?” Juan was older than her, but they had known each other for years, and she hated to see him looking so worn down. “Was it the jerk in the car ahead of me? It looked like he was yelling, and then he drove out of here like a bat out of hell.”

Juan chuckled and the corners of his mouth twitched into a small smile. “Yeah, it was one of those youngsters who graduated a few years ago; runs around with the Mayhews and the like. He’d been out partying all night and was looking for a pick me up.” Shaking his head, he continued, “I swear, that kid would be in here every day if I let him. I told him to take his skinny latte black and go home to sleep it off. Needless to say he wasn’t too happy about it.” The older man lifted a work worn hand and massaged at the back of his neck. “Anyway, what can I do for you today, sweetie?”

“Well,” Marge replied. “I’m sorry that the customers aren’t respecting you this morning. You deserve better than that.” She patted at the pocket that held the pre-made potions nervously. “Actually,I have an important meeting this morning that I really need to be present for and I could use a little boost. Could I have a tall mocha with a little extra kick, please?” She gave Juan a knowing look and smiled widely. “Actually, better make that two,” she added. “The person I’m meeting up with could probably use a little boost this morning as well.”

Juan replied with a smile and a little wink. “Sure thing sweetie. Just give me a minute to get it ready and I’ll have it for you at the next window. Take care now.” Marge thanked him and pulled up to the next window. She paid the cashier and then set the two cups of coffee into the drink holders between the seats. Glancing at the clock she realized that she only had about five minutes to get to the shop before she was supposed to meet Jude. Pulling up a few feet to clear the window, she fired off a quick follow up text to Jude and then hurried to the shop.

Jude’s truck was already parked in front of the store when she pulled up, and Marge maneuvered her car in next to his. By the time she’d gotten her window shade in place and pulled her purse over her shoulder Jude and Kojack were already standing beside her door. She pointed at the two cups of coffee in the console and Jude smiled. Pulling the driver’s door open from the outside, he laid a hand across the top of the car.

“Aw, Marge, thanks,” he said happily.

“You’re quite welcome,” Marge replied, handing one of the coffees to him. “I figured that we both could use a little lift this morning. Securing her purse under her arm, she picked up the other cup of coffee and made to exit the car. Jude nodded in thanks, stepping away from the car and taking a swig from the Styrofoam cup. Marge swung her legs around and climbed out of the car, holding carefully to the coffee with one hand and her purse with the other. She gave Kojack a little pat on the head in greeting before closing the car door and turning towards the shop.

The road they were on housed a bunch of similar looking buildings, but this one had one of those striped awnings over the doorway, like you see at pawn shops and the like. Just above the awning was a sign that read ‘Second to None Thrift’. The long windows that spanned the front of the store were plastered with vintage photos and magazine spreads featuring clothing and housewares. Right beside the door was a multicolored ‘Coexist’ bumper sticker. Most of the witches that Marge knew used these types of stickers at their businesses as a covert flag that there was a witch in residence. Witches loved the idea of the ‘Coexist’ ideology because it stood for an intermingling of faiths and beliefs and the justification of each; and it fit well into the witch’s view of harmony with life.

Reaching the shop’s door first, Jude held it open for Marge and she hurried up the walk. Ducking under Jude’s arm, she stepped out of the warm morning air into the cooler depths of the shop. A fan was set up somewhere along the front wall and a little breeze riffled her hair as she entered. Stepping to one side, she waited for Jude and Kojack and surveyed the shop. It wasn’t overly large, but there was plenty of merchandise crammed into every available spot in the store. The walls were lined with shelves laden with everything from shoes to dishes, and the middle of the store was full of clothing racks. Near the back was a long counter that held the cash register and also a row of display cases filled with jewelry and knick knacks.

Holding Kojack on a short leash, Jude followed Marge into the store. The door closed behind him with a whoosh, cutting off the stream of sunlight and the air grew even colder. Marge shivered and wondered why the man had to keep it like a refrigerator in there. She supposed that it might be a good idea to keep the spell making supplies cool but this was taking it a bit too far. The little bell that hung over the front door had alerted Gage to their presence and he emerged from the back room and took his place behind the counter, looking around the shop for his customers.

Gage was an older man, probably around sixty or seventy, and he had long gray hair that he wore pulled back in a pony tail. His face was surprisingly unlined for his age (probably the result of a very good age spell) and he wore small, gold rimmed glasses that matched his amber colored eyes. Marge had never seen him in anything other than an old t-shirt and jeans. Sometimes, like now, he wore a vest over the top of it. Marge, who rarely left home without a polished outfit, couldn’t imagine how a business owner could be so casual; but she supposed that it would work with the sort of shop he ran.

The man smiled kindly when he saw them and gave a little wave, waiting behind the counter for them to approach. Marge knew that the entrance to the attic where his magical implements were kept was in the back room behind the counter, and he probably assumed that they were headed that way. When they reached the counter, Gage held out a hand to Jude and they shook. He then held out his hand to Marge and shook hers, much more gently. He glanced over at Kojack, on the floor beside Jude’s feet, wearing his little green service dog vest.

“And how are the two of you today,” Gage asked cordially, returning his attention to Marge and Jude. He brought his hands up to rest on the counter in front of him and the light glinted brightly off the large gold ring he wore on one hand.

Marge scanned the interior of the store again, making sure that there weren’t any human customers before answering. “Good, good,” she replied. “It’s nice to see you again. Are we your only customers this morning?” It couldn’t hurt to make sure.

Gage nodded. “Yep, my first ones,” he said, nodding again. “And it’s always nice to see you too Marge. And Jude, how are you, son? Everything went well with the supplies you picked up recently, I trust?”

Jude nodded and smiled. “Went beautifully. The gloves and the silver chain were just perfect. We were able to round up the Quepie without much trouble, thanks to you.” He glanced at Marge out of the corner of his eye, feeling a little guilty about Brandon. The kid seemed to be dealing with the experience okay but Jude knew that it had really shaken him. “We didn’t even need the glasses though, really. By the time the thing was in view, there was no mistaking it.”

Gage looked at Jude with interest. “Really, now,” he said excitedly. “In all my years I don’t know how I’ve never come across one. Fairies and pixies, sure. The odd griffin or sprite, but never a Quepie.”

Marge pushed her hair back and started to speak, getting frustrated by the small talk. Jude laid a casual hand on her arm and continued. They would never get anywhere with this if they weren’t at least pleasant. “Yeah, it was wild,” he continued, gesturing with his hands as he told the story. “It appeared as a woman at first, and you would never know what it really was, if it wasn’t for the hooved feet,” he concluded. Gage whistled softly and shook his head in appreciation. “Anyway, once I got the chain around it, we were able to load it up and move it out of the area. It won’t be harming anyone else now.”

Gage took his glasses off and wiped the lenses with the body of his shirt. “Sounds like you guys had quite the experience,” he said, impressed. He held the glasses up and peered through the lenses. When he was sure they were clean, he put them back on. “Glad to know that we’ve got witches who care around here. That whole thing was a mess, but it could have been a lot worse if you hadn’t acted so quickly.” He held out his hand again for Jude and then shook the other man’s hand vigorously, holding it in both of his own. “I sure appreciated you. And I’m sure that the rest of the community would agree.”

Jude’s cheeks reddened just a bit with the praise. “It was nothing, really,” he said sheepishly. He brought a hand up and rubbed at the back of his neck. “I’m sure anyone else would’ve done the same. We’ve all got to do our part anyway.”

“All the same,” Gage replied, “I do appreciate you, and if there’s ever anything I can do for you, just let me know.” He patted the counter in front of him with a large, age lined hand. “Now. What brings you two in today? Should I put up the sign so we can head upstairs?”

Jude shook his head but Marge replied quickly, “Yes, please. I have a few supplies I’d like to pick up while I’m here.” Jude looked over at her, impressed that she hadn’t jumped the gun again. Gage nodded and moved towards the front of the store. He kept a little sign beside the standard Open/Closed sign that indicated that he was unavailable and would be back shortly. He didn’t like to leave the store open to customers while he was upstairs in the area that was off limits to humans. Flipping the sign over, he moved the little clock hands to indicate that he’d be back in ten minutes and then led the way up the stairs to the attic.

When they reached the top, Marge moved towards a display case that held everyday potion ingredients that were hard to find locally. Many of your common herbs and things were easy for a witch to gather on their own, but it was harder to come by things like the arctic rainwater she needed for Jude’s binding potion, or the spores gathered from a mushroom fairy ring on the night of a waning crescent moon. While she browsed for the items she would need this visit, Jude and Gage walked over to a display that held a collection of items that were commonly used as focusing objects. Some witches chose to pick more personalized items, but many selected them based on common properties the object itself possessed. Jude and his father James had both selected stones here with properties that would complement their personal needs. James had chosen alabaster for its inherent ability to facilitate meditation and mental clarity while casting runes, his specialty. And Jude had picked a rough cut piece of chalcedony, a stone known for its ability to restore balance and calm and its helpful effects on communication. Right now, Jude wasn’t in the market for a new focusing object, but he was trying to give Marge some space to shop in the hopes that Gage would open up to him about anything suspicious he might’ve seen recently.

Running a hand idly across the collection of stones and other potential focusing objects, Jude asked casually, “You know, there is something that you might be able to help with, come to think of it.” Gage perked up and edged down the counter, closer to where Jude stood. “Marge and I have actually been investigating something that happened recently and are trying to find some leads.” He looked around, as if to make sure no one was there to overhear, even though there was no one else in the store besides Marge. Might as well ham it up a little bit, he thought. He leaned in closer to Gage. “You know that Marge’s husband is a policeman,” he asked, his expression grave. Gage nodded solemnly. “Well,” Jude continued. “I have it on good authority that there was a burglary and murder committed here recently. By a witch.” His eyes widened and he paused for emphasis. “We have a pretty good community around here and I know there aren’t many people who would do such a thing, but someone did.” He slapped the top of the counter for emphasis. “And we need to find them. Before it happens again.” Gage paled and took off his glasses again, wiping absently without really looking at them.

“Now I also happen to know,” Jude continued softly, “That the witch isn’t much of a potion master. In fact, the potion that they used on the murder victim was so poorly made that it left some unfortunate side effects behind.” Gage flinched at the words ‘murder victim’ and Jude set a reassuring hand on his arm, patting a few times. “We’ve done some interviewing already, but we don’t have a good suspect yet. Would you happen to know of anyone who might have been looking for supplies recently, for potions they may not usually brew? Something that might have been used as a weapon, and that requires a bit of skill?” He stepped back from the counter and automatically reached a hand down to pet Kojack, before remembering that he had had to stay downstairs. The augmented ladder that led up to the attic was really not accessible for a large dog.

Gage put his glasses back on and, still paler than usual, blinked a few times in rapid succession. “I don’t know, man,” he responded shakily. “It’s mostly just been the usual stuff. Home remedies, appearance potions, stuff like that. Heck, a lot of witches don’t even tell me what they’re planning to make when I sell them the ingredients. And I don’t ask!” He blanched and, looking remorseful, quickly raised a hand. “Now if they were in here looking for something like Belladonna or a griffin’s tooth, I’d know that they were up to no good and might say something about it. But there are plenty of other spells you could make with the standard ingredients that could get you into a bunch of trouble without anyone else ever knowing about it.”

Jude nodded and assured Gage that it wasn’t his fault. “Nobody expects you to police everybody that you sell things to,” he said, waving a hand dismissively. “I just thought that I’d ask, in case you might have seen something that seemed suspicious.” He paused, looking thoughtful. “Or maybe something that didn’t, but could fit the profile. Anyway. I’m not here to hassle you.” He gave the older man a genuine smile, feeling bad for having upset him. He had always liked Gage, with his laid back demeanor and his hippie clothes. He was a stand up guy and his shop was a vital part of the witch community. It was just too bad he didn’t have any good leads to follow up on. Jude had been so sure that one of the potion dealers would know something.

Gage nodded, looking relieved and Jude thanked him for his help. He called to Marge across the room, asking if she was ready. She replied that she was and Gage wound his way around the counter to where she stood. When she had pointed out the items she needed he gathered them all up and then carried them over to the cash register. As he rang them up, he placed them one by one into a little paper bag with the store’s logo printed on the front. Once Marge had paid for her goods Gage led them back down to the ground floor.

Kojack was waiting at the foot of the stairs and he licked anxiously at Jude’s hand as he stepped off of the ladder. A knock sounded from the front of the store, followed by the sound of someone jiggling the locked handle. Gage hurried to the front of the shop and Marge looked questioningly at Jude to see if he had had any luck. He shook his head in response and frowned a little bit, still reaching down to ruffle Kojack’s ears. “Nothing,” Jude said, wearily. “I’m sure he would’ve been helpful if he could have, but he didn’t know anything.”

Marge frowned in response. “We’re going to have to do better than this,” she said, as the two of them started towards the front of the store. “Two interviews already and we’re getting nowhere.”

When they stepped back out into the main area of the shop Gage stood at the front door, holding it open for two young witches. They breezed past him without taking any notice, talking amongst themselves. “Yeah, I heard that he lost his leprechaun,” one of the young men said to the other. “Lost himself a boatload of money along with it. The old dude is getting desperate.”

The other young man chuckled and shook his head. “Serves him right,” he responded as they navigated the clothes aisles towards the back of the store. Jude looked at Marge in question and she shrugged. No idea who they might be talking about. There were only a handful of witches that she’d ever heard of to have successfully captured a leprechaun.

Marge and Jude said goodbye to Gage, thanking him again for his time and then exited the store. Even beneath the store’s awning, the southern heat was oppressive after the cool air of the shop. Kojack instantly began panting and Marge dabbed delicately at her brow. “We’re going to have to go visit the Mayhews next,” Marge said, making a face. She didn’t want to have to go there, but it was the logical next step. Sidling in close to Jude’s side, she waited for him to lean down and then told him quietly about the potions that she had made the night before.

Jude’s eyes widened but then his face grew serious. “Yeah, I guess it’s probably a good idea,” he responded. “Just in case. Whoever committed that murder is definitely in a sticky situation now and it’ll be best to be prepared.”

Marge reached into her pocket and pulled out a gum case, identical to the one she had made for herself. Handing it to Jude, she said, “Green is for the plank potion, I added a bit of kelp so that we could tell the two apart. It won’t affect the effectiveness of the spell though. The shield potion is colorless.” She stepped back, still speaking quietly. “At least this way we’ll be ready if he turns violent.”

Jude nodded and took the gum container from her, shoving it into his own pocket. “Okay,” he said. “No time like the present. I’ll meet you over there soon.”