Witch Trial

Book 2: Full Moon Mystery

by Cate Conte

Genres: Occult & Supernatural; Craft & Hobby Cozy Mysteries

Synopsis

Double, double toil and trouble,



A witch's life is quite a muddle.



The Full Moon crystal shop in North Harbor, Connecticut, offers healing stones for all sorts of ailments. Unfortunately, there's nothing among the gems that can help owner Violet Mooney learn how to wield the magick she inherited from both sides of her family—the legendary Ravenstar and Moonstone clans. As if being an apprentice witch weren't difficult enough, Violet's tutors are her estranged mother Fiona, a sister she never knew she had named Zoe, and a familiar in the form of a black cat, Xander.



Between learning spells, Violet is being investigated by the Magickal Council. A reporter out to debunk spiritualists was "genied"—her soul imprisoned inside a bottle—in Violet's shop, and she can't prove she didn't do it. Meanwhile, her non-magickal life has become complicated when one of her crystal shop customers, Nicole St. James, goes missing and turns up dead, a victim of murder.



Determined to solve both crimes, Violet taps into powers she doesn't understand, much less control—and finds herself conjuring up both supernatural and mortal enemies . . .

Release date: December 28, 2021

Publisher: Kensington Cozies

Print pages: 290

Sample

“What do you think of this one, Xander?” I pointed to a page in the giant book in front of me and glanced expectantly at my black cat. He sat on the desk watching me intently, his sleek black tail swishing in anticipation of my next move. I was kind of hoping he might give me a hint or a prompt or something. I wasn’t sure if my spell casting attempt was going to live up to his expectations, but I had to try. Our relationship was still pretty new, so I felt the need to impress him. I closed my eyes and recited:


I waved my hand—a bit awkwardly, truth be told, as I was still getting used to this whole concept—and waited for something to happen. I was looking for a flash of light, or even for my lights to flicker, but ... nothing.

Great. So much for Violet Mooney, super witch. And for my new sign that I’d just had made for the shop that read: “Be the reason the lights flicker when you enter a room.”

“Shoot,” I muttered. “I must be doing it wrong.” I opened my eyes and peered at Xander. He still sat there, waiting for something to happen. I could almost read the disappointment in those brilliant yellow eyes.

I felt his pain.

Fiona, my long-lost mother who had appeared back in my life recently with the news that I was a witch, swore I didn’t need a wand or anything to help me spell cast—“This isn’t a Harry Potter novel, my dear,” she’d chided me when I asked—but I still wondered. I’d gotten pretty good at some things relating to my new identity, but some of these grander witchy gestures were still eluding me. “Don’t look at me like that,” I said to Xander. “I can conjure up a great cup of coffee, at least.” I had to take the small victories where I could.

“Vi?” Sydney Santangelo, my best friend and new employee, poked her head into the office. “Who are you talking to?”

I jumped a foot, sending my grandmother’s book of spells crashing to the ground, trying to look innocent. Unlike Josie Cook, my mentor and other shop employee (and fellow witch), Sydney had no idea about my ... heritage. Which wasn’t all that shocking, since I hadn’t known either until just a few weeks ago. And it still wasn’t something I was ready to share with the general public, even if this particular member of the general public was an important person in my life. “What? Nothing. No one,” I stammered, adjusting my long lacy skirt. “Just Xander.”

“Xander? I don’t see him.”

I whirled back around to my desk. Nothing. No cat.

He had a knack for that sort of thing.

Syd had stepped fully into the office and was looking at me curiously. “Are you okay? What the heck are you reading that’s so big?” She indicated the book on the floor.

I stepped in front of it, letting my long skirt fall over the cover. “Fine, yes, I’m good. It was just ... one of my grandmother’s books.”

Syd frowned. “Wow. Kindles are so much easier. And lighter.” She turned to go, then glanced back at me. “The lights flickered out there. Did they flicker in here? I hope we aren’t getting a storm. I hate winter storms. I wish spring would just come.”

“Wait. The lights flickered?” I rushed over to her. “Really? Which ones?”

“I don’t know, all of them? Are you sure you’re okay, Violet? You’re acting a little weird.”

“The lights flickered.” I clapped my hands together and turned to see if Xander had reappeared to share in my excitement. He was still nowhere in sight. I hadn’t figured out if my new familiar was actually a magickal cat, or simply superior at being a cat. “Yes, I’m fine. I’m just ... really looking forward to the first spring storms too,” I lied. “I think winter is going to end early.”

I could tell Syd thought I was losing it by the way she cocked her head and squinted at me, but she did a good job of shrugging it off. Today she’d hid her unruly blond curls under a rhinestone cowboy hat, which looked awesome with the lacy dress she wore with knee-high boots. Syd also sold vintage clothing and accessories and loved to dress the part. “Okay then. Anyway, Ginny is here. She brought someone with her.”

“She did? Who is it?”

“No idea. She didn’t tell me her name. Actually Ginny did all the talking. And she hugged me.” She wrinkled her nose and leaned in a bit. “She’s kind of weird. You think?”

“Ginny? She’s harmless.” Ginny Reinhardt was a hugger. She hugged everyone with the same enthusiasm, whether she’d last seen you two days or two years ago. She was also a witch, but I didn’t tell Syd that. Syd mostly knew her from her waitressing gigs at the deli down the street and at my boyfriend Todd’s bar, Luck o’ the Irish. “Can you let them know I’ll be right out?”

“Sure. Okay if I go grab lunch?” she asked, taking her coat off the rack.

“Of course. Take your time,” I said.

She blew me a kiss and hurried out. “She’s coming,” I heard her say, then the little bell on the shop door jingled.

I picked up my grandma’s book and placed it carefully on my desk, then piled a few other things on top of it. I wasn’t sure if Syd would be able to read it even if she did pay attention to it—I hadn’t been able to open the cover until I’d accepted the fact that I was a witch—but I didn’t want to chance it.

I stepped through the curtain of beads and feathers that separated the main room of my crystal shop, The Full Moon, from the back room and office area, feeling my energy shift as I stepped back into the presence of all those beautiful crystals. I’d worked with crystals since I was a kid, and their healing powers never ceased to amaze me.

Ginny and her friend were the only ones there. They browsed the display by the window, which had some of my bigger pieces of zeolites under some funky recessed lighting I’d recently had installed. The result was a purple glint on the shimmery clear stones. I loved it and it never failed to catch people’s eyes as they walked by. I’d even gotten some first timers who’d come in after seeing that display.

Ginny glanced up, saw me, and waved, her face lighting up. The woman standing next to her paid no attention. She looked vaguely familiar. I searched my brain for why but couldn’t grasp it. She was holding one of my bigger free-form pieces of green opal. As I watched, she turned it over in her hand, studying it intently, then placed it down again.

“Hi there,” I said, stepping over to them.

Ginny poked her friend, who turned to look at me. “This is Violet. Hey, Violet!” She rushed over and gave me a hug that almost knocked me over. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Wow. Hey, Ginny. Good to see you,” I said, hugging her back, although I’d seen her yesterday when I ran into the diner to pick up a grilled cheese for lunch.

She let go and turned to her friend. “Nicole, this is Violet Mooney, who I’ve been telling you about. Vi, Nicole St. James. One of my best friends.” She looked at me earnestly. “Nicole needs your help.”

I smiled at Nicole. “Hi. It’s nice to meet you.” I had an impulse to hug her because she looked like she needed it—or maybe Ginny was rubbing off on me—but at the same time I got a vibe that screamed Don’t touch me.

Nicole St. James looked like she’d rather be anywhere but here. Or maybe it had nothing to do with here and everything to do with her overall state of mind, which I immediately picked up on. Her aura was almost completely gray, and so strong I didn’t even need to tune in to see it. Gray auras meant blocked energy centers and a lack of trust. When I turned up my focus, I also saw some dark blue around the edges, which showed me a lot of fear. Her physical appearance backed that up. Her face looked drawn and weary, and her eyes were dark enough they made me think of twin bruises. She was pretty though, with short blond hair pulled back in a barrette and a spattering of freckles across her nose that made her look younger than she probably was.

When I spoke to her she barely met my eyes, just let them skitter over me, then back to the floor. “Hi,” she said. Unlike the rest of her demeanor, her tone was curt. Impatient. Like she was very late for something and I was standing in her way.

Ginny sent me a pleading look as if to say, Sorry in advance but please have patience.

I smiled back reassuringly. Patience was my strong suit. Most of the time. “So what can I help you with?” I asked Nicole. “Do you want to have a seat?”

Nicole looked from Ginny to me then back again. “I guess,” she said uncertainly.

I led her to the back of the store where I did my crystal consults. They were a huge selling point for my shop, and had become popular in the county. They were private sessions where I read people’s auras and determined which stones would help them heal. I’d been reading auras since I was a child and I’d always thought I just had a gift for it. Until I found out I had powers that, although they had been mostly dormant all these years, were guiding me to the right healing properties. Which ultimately helped me do even better for my clients who came in looking for physical or emotional relief.

Magick. It still gave me a thrill when I thought about it.

Nicole glanced at Ginny, then back at me. “Not really. I don’t think there’s much you can do for me. I mean, your stuff is really pretty but I’m not sure how you can help. Plus I have an appointment, so if this is going to take long ...”

“Just give her a chance, Nic,” Ginny said. “I told you, her crystals are super healing. You won’t regret it.” To me, she said, “Nicole’s been under a lot of pressure lately. She was involved in that whole political battle about the railroad bridge, for one thing.”

I looked at her, curious now as everything clicked in my brain. That’s why she looked familiar. Our little town of North Harbor had been talking about nothing else for the past few months other than the recently defeated proposal to reroute our existing railroad bridge straight through the middle of our downtown. Proponents swore it would help the economy by providing jobs and that the safety issues relating to the old bridge outweighed any arguments against it. Opponents included environmentalists who said the delicate balance of the river would be destroyed when the current bridge was torn down. And there were also a fair number of opposers in the business community, who didn’t want to see buildings taken by eminent domain. “Really? How were you involved?”

“I’m an attorney,” Nicole said. “I just changed jobs, but I was with Odin, Steele and Rabner for ... a long time.”

I recognized the name of the firm. It was a high-end corporate law firm that had offices in Manhattan and here in North Harbor. The owner of the largest office building in town that would have been taken by eminent domain had retained them as part of the fight. “So you won,” I said. “Congratulations.”

She glanced away, but not before I saw a shadow pass over her face. “That’s one way of putting it.”

Odd response. “A lot of people in town were grateful that the project didn’t happen,” I said. “Including the environmental crew.”

“Yeah. Well, it’s not over yet.”

I decided to leave that statement alone—people in this town could debate that bridge project forever. “Aside from that, is there something in particular that’s bothering you?”

Nicole laughed, but the sound was harsh. “Got a few hours?”

I reached out and put my hand on her arm. “Why don’t you just sit for a minute and let me tune in,” I said.

“Go on,” Ginny urged, giving her a gentle shove toward me.

I watched Nicole fight her knee-jerk reaction to pull her arm away until she finally relented. “Fine,” she said. “I guess I could use some help with relationships. Ending one, to be clear.”

I smiled encouragingly. “Okay.” I pointed to the chair. She sat, a ball of tension, arms wrapped around herself. I pulled up my own chair so I faced her. Ginny wandered away to browse, probably relieved that her friend had stopped fighting me.

“Close your eyes,” I said. “I’m just going to hold your hands. You don’t need to say or do anything.”

Nicole frowned, but finally obliged. I took her hands and held them. Her hands were cool and smooth to the touch. I could feel nervous energy literally flowing through her fingers. At first she was tense, but after a few minutes her hands relaxed into mine. I kept my eyes focused just above her head, tuning into her aura with more intentionality. The message was the same.

Just as I was about to close my eyes, I saw something else in her auric field. A shadow, moving around her, black as a moonless night. I focused on it, trying to identify what it was and why I felt so ... suffocated all of a sudden. The feeling grew stronger until it literally took my breath away. I tried to block it out but it kept spreading, invading her entire auric field until I had to break the connection. I swallowed my gasp and opened my eyes.

There was nothing there—just the regular colors I’d expect to see in someone’s aura. They hadn’t changed, but if anything, the dark blue had gotten stronger and spread more around her whole being.

“Everything okay?” Nicole asked, opening her eyes too.

“Perfect,” I said, forcing a smile into my voice. “Just relax. Almost done.” I closed my eyes again and tried to refocus. Despite my distraction, I got the message loud and clear—Nicole needed some major fear blockers before we could do anything else for her. And protection. A lot of protection. The heavy black shadow had been menacing—there was no sugarcoating it. Protection crystals were essential.

After a few more seconds I squeezed her hands, let go, and got up to make my selections. All the black ones: Black tourmaline in a palm stone. A labradorite tumbled stone. An obsidian sphere. And since she’d mentioned relationships, I picked a rose quartz angel. If anything, it would help her heart heal from whatever had happened. I spent a couple minutes with the stones, using a silent invocation I’d read in Grandma Abby’s book that she had noted strengthened the already potent powers of the crystals, then I brought them over to her.

Ginny came over and peered over Nicole’s shoulder as I placed the stones on the counter in front of her.

“Oooh,” Ginny said reverently. “So pretty!”

“They are beautiful, aren’t they?” I turned to Nicole. “Set an intention for each of them to help you with whatever it is you’re afraid of. I would recommend carrying the smaller ones during the day, preferably on your person, but if not then in your purse. And put them under your pillow at night.”

She gazed at the stones, then looked at me. “That’s it?” she asked. “And then I’ll be cured?”

I picked up on the sarcasm—it was slight, but it was there. “They will help. You have to believe in them, though. Here, let me wrap them for you.” I brought the stones to the counter, wrapped them in tissue paper, then placed them in a velvet pouch with a moon on it—my new signature crystal bags—then handed it to her.

Nicole hesitated for a second, then took it. “Thank you. How much do I owe you?”

I rang up her purchase, then handed her my card. “The obsidian sphere is on me. Feel free to call if you have questions,” I said. “And if you feel like you need something else, or it isn’t working, please come back.”

She nodded and offered me a tiny smile. “Thank you. Ready, Ginny?’

Ginny blew me a kiss. “Thanks, Vi. See you at the bar later?”

I worked to keep the smile in place. My boyfriend, Todd, and I weren’t on the greatest terms lately, and I wasn’t totally sure that I wanted to hang out at his bar tonight. “That’s a definite maybe. Thanks for coming in!” I watched them walk out of the store and pause on the sidewalk. Ginny said something to her friend and gave her a hug. Nicole turned away and hunched into her coat, pulling the hood over her head as if she hoped it would make her invisible.

The rest of the day flew by and before I knew it, it was five o’clock and time to close. I’d had consults every hour and a ton of walk-in traffic, which made for a busy day. I’d sent Syd home an hour earlier, knowing she needed to get back to her daughter, Presley. The afternoon had quieted down after the lunch crowd thinned, probably because the temperatures had been dropping steadily all day. Winter in New England. It was a crapshoot, for sure. I was as desperate for spring as Sydney, but we were barely into March.

And now I needed to meet my mother for dinner. She’d called me earlier and asked me to come, and I’d learned that when Fiona summoned, you pretty much just went. If you didn’t she’d simply beam you to where she wanted you anyway. I switched my sign to Closed, locked the front door, shut off all the lights, and went out back. I grabbed my bag and tugged on my moonstone necklace. That crazy feeling of free falling hit me like the rush you get on a roller coaster. A moment later I landed on the porch steps of my old house—my Grandma Abby’s house, where I’d lived for most of my life after we left New York City when I was a child—pushed the front door open and stepped inside.

And stopped. Stared. I almost went back out to check if I had the right house, but the one thing of my grandmother’s that remained, her favorite chair and cozy fleece blanket, was still visible in the corner of the living room. I could just see it from where I stood and although it looked incredibly out of place given the new ... decor, it still gave me peace. I sat in it every time I came over here. It let me feel like Grandma Abby was still with me.

But the rest of this place ... I could feel her turning over in her grave.

“Problems, darling?”

I whirled around. I hated when Fiona snuck up on me like that.

“No problems,” I said. “Just looking at what you’ve done with the place. It looks, uh, different than last time I was here.”

Fiona Ravenstar—my mother—placed her hands on her hips and gave me her best stare, the one that dared anyone to challenge her. “You told us we could live here, Violet. You said we could make changes to the house. Have you changed your mind?” She towered over me in her black platform boots, and the red velvet cloak she’d wrapped herself in made me think of the devil witch costume I’d convinced my dad to buy me when I was thirteen. All she needed were the horns. She was exceptionally beautiful, though, with her flawless skin, elegant high cheekbones, and today, hair that was blond and turned wine-colored at the ends. It was a different color every time I saw her. She’d also been experimenting with length and right now was wearing it long, halfway down her back. Her presence loomed larger than anything else in her energy field.

Which was also a lot to get used to.

“No,” I said. “I haven’t changed my mind. I just need to digest the new look and feel of the house. It’s a lot different than when Grandma Abby lived here.”

Fiona looked around as if seeing the room for the first time, smiling a bit. I knew she was enjoying this. When she turned back to me, she had a twinkle in her eye. “Abigail always had ... antiquated tastes. You know that’s not my style.”

“Oh, I knew that in the first five minutes of our reunion,” I said, smiling back sweetly.

It had taken me a while to believe Fiona was really my mother, the woman I hadn’t seen since I was five years old. I’d pretty much written her off years ago, although I was smart enough to know I’d never fully healed the wound she’d left when she vanished one day. But I’d always wrestled with myself about it, with thoughts ranging from Why would I want to meet her anyway? What kind of mother willingly abandons her child? to I wish she would just come home.

Then she had shown up, seemingly out of the blue, during a major life crisis moment. With a half-sister I never knew I had and a wild story about how I was three-quarters witch and belonged to the two most powerful families in the witches’ realm.

Did I mention it took a while for me to buy into that?

But as crazy as it sounded at the time, it was all true—and instead of being Violet Mooney, as I’d always believed, I was really Violet Raven Moonstone. My grandma Abby had been the matriarch witch of the Moonstone family, and my mother’s family, the Ravenstars, were apparently also a very big deal. Which meant I had powers of my own. Big ones, if she was to be believed.

Apparently not big enough to keep my mother in check, though.

“I meant, like, move the furniture around. Get new beds. I didn’t think.... Grandma Abby’s house was ... a little more soft and comforting,” I said, glancing around at the purple metallic paint that now covered the living room walls, which had previously been a soft green. Ravens—fake ones, at least I hoped—perched on every available surface. The new artwork on the walls was all silver, metal, sharp edges. When I’d told Fiona she and my half-sister Zoe could move into Grandma Abby’s house since they wanted to be close to me—and in Zoe’s case, experience the mortal world for the first time—I didn’t think she’d completely redecorate the entire place.

I guess it didn’t really surprise me though. Fiona wasn’t an ask-for-permission type of woman. This had been evident from day one, when she’d showed up and decided to move Sydney out of her apartment across the hall from me and move in there herself. She’d returned that situation to rights, though, and luckily. . .