Hex to Pay Read online

  Hex to Pay

  A Witch Detective Cozy Mystery - Book 1

  Stevie Day

  By Stevie Day

  Copyright 2021

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  1

  Alice Munroe laid in the forest dirt, her frayed and grimy sneakers dancing back and forth in the air. Her dirty blonde hair flowed around her shoulders, while her chin rested on her fists. With a grin on her face, she spoke to the tiny monstrosity in front of her.

  “Hey there, little guy. What’s your name?”

  She got no response from the insect, which was okay. Nearly every creature she had encountered in her twenty-five years could be communicated with, but that didn’t mean they were all up for a conversation.

  Still, she was confident she could get this one talking.

  “I know it might be a little weird for you, being a… centi…? Millipede? Is it defined by how many legs you have? I don’t really know the difference. Sorry, I hope I’m not being insensitive somehow…”

  She was rambling. She did that sometimes, she admitted.

  The reddish, many-legged bug gave no response, instead opting to crawl over some twigs.

  “I’m just looking for someone, and I think he probably passed this way. I was wondering if maybe you’d seen him?”

  The millipede stopped what he was doing, his little head twitching about side to side. Was he sniffing at her? Just looking? She didn’t know enough about his entomology to be sure, but she had his attention and that was good.

  “He’s a dog, you see,” she continued. “Cute little guy, like you! A lot bigger than you, but a lot smaller than me. Four legs, furry—”

  “I know what a dog is,” the millipede interrupted. Alice flinched back, startled but delighted. The millipede wasn’t speaking, exactly. Animals didn’t talk. But to a witch like Alice, with years of practice and skill, communication was possible. Maybe it was a kind of telepathy, but Alice never really needed it defined like that. It was enough that she could do it.

  “You do!” she exclaimed. “How cool!”

  “Yummy poop,” he said.

  “Noooo.” Alice grimaced. “Didn’t need to know that.”

  “Hmmph,” he grunted, and turned to go about his business.

  “No, wait. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to judge. I eat some gross stuff too. Have you ever looked at the ingredients on a bag of Cheetos?”

  The millipede moseyed away from her, losing interest.

  Alice crawled forward, not about to lose her only possible lead. “Anyway, the dog I just mentioned? He’s lost. He’s probably really, really scared. He’s a bit on the older side and his owner says he’s never really been out on his own. If you’ve seen him and could point me in his general direction, I’d really appreciate it.”

  The millipede stopped again and gave Alice his attention. “He was afraid.”

  Was he asking? Or telling?

  “Yes, I’m sure he was,” Alice said. “Have you seen him? He’s a pug. Though you probably don’t know what a pug is, huh? He’s, um, not too big… Kinda has short fuzzy brown hair?”

  “Yes,” the millipede replied. “He went through here not too long ago. Stopped to smell around, spun in circles. Lost. Afraid.”

  Alice let out a breath, causing dried leaves to rustle in front of her. “Yes. That has to be him. Can you tell me where he went?”

  “Deeper into the woods. I don’t think he could find a scent he recognized because he just kept sniffing and sniffing.”

  “Crap,” she said. “Do you know how long ago?”

  “The sun was up, so not too long.”

  “You’ve been a great help. I’ve gotta get going right away if I want to catch up with him. It was really nice to meet you.” Alice jumped to her feet.

  “Don’t step on me, please.”

  “Jeez, of course not,” she said, nearly offended, then paused, curiosity getting the better of her. “Hey, can I pet you before I go?”

  “Pet me?”

  “Yeah, you know. Rub your back?”

  The millipede hesitated. “I guess so?”

  Alice bent down and stroked her finger across his back. If she were to see this little guy crawling across her floor while she was snuggled on her couch watching TV, she might have screamed and thrown a shoe at him. But in this context she found him rather endearing.

  “Oh, wow!” the millipede exclaimed, arching his back. “Can you do that some more?”

  “Sorry, the longer I wait, the farther he might be wandering. But if I come back this way, I’ll stop by for sure!”

  “Hmph,” he hmphed. And Alice was on her way.

  Earlier that morning, Alice was doing her usual volunteer work at the local animal shelter. She happened to be present when Chauncey’s mom, a slender older woman dressed in yoga pants, arrived in a panic, asking if anyone had recently brought in a lost pug. Chauncey’s mom had gone to the police, who sent her to animal control, who were all off on an important mission involving a deer who’d gotten confused and wandered into a supermarket. So the next place that came to mind was the shelter.

  Alice calmed the woman and promised she would find her dog.

  “I’m a private eye,” she said with a big grin.

  Chauncey’s mom was taken aback. “A private eye? Really?”

  “Yup! Got a license and everything. An office too. Munroe Investigations. Little shop on the corner on Main Street? Next to the comic book store and the little burger joint?”

  “Big Beefy Burgers?” the woman asked with her face scrunched up.

  “Yup, that’s the one.”

  “Ugh, repulsive place. It’s so…”

  “Beefy?” Alice suggested.

  Chauncey’s mom rolled her beady eyes. “Greasy, I’d say.”

  “Oh, but the grease is where the flavor comes from,” Alice said. “But anyway… I can help find Chauncey for sure. Do you have anything of his with you? If—sorry—when I find him, having something he recognizes will go a long way in earning his trust.”

  Chauncey’s mom reached inside her designer leather purse and pulled out a much chewed-upon stuffed animal that might have once been a frog. Or maybe a bear? It was really hard to tell. “I have his Woobie…” she trailed off.

  “Woobie! So cute. I love that.” Alice reached for Woobie, but Chauncey’s mom pulled it back.

  “I’m not sure I should just give it away, though. What if I find him or he comes back and he needs it?”

  It wasn’t a wholly rational argument. Luckily the shelter’s director, Mr. Lewis, was standing nearby with another volunteer and finally stepped in.

  He cleared his throat, his exceedingly shiny bald head drawing all eyes to him. “There’s nothing to worry about, Mrs. Abbott,” Mr. Lewis began. “Alice here is really good at her job and specializes in finding lost pets. I believe she’ll be the first to tell you her success rate is nearly one hundred percent.”

  Gretchen, the volunteer who had been standing with Mr. Lewis, grumbled, “Alice to the rescue.” Gretchen was an older woman, slightly overweight, with sho
rt cropped gray hair and a face that wore a permanent scowl. The grumbling was nothing new to Alice. What Gretchen’s problem was, Alice wasn’t sure she’d ever know.

  Chauncey’s mom—or Mrs. Abbott, as Mr. Lewis had called her—looked at Alice hopefully. Alice returned the look with a huge grin and a single crisp nod. What she didn’t add was that her number of found pets was actually a solid one hundred percent, but there had been a few times when she’d found pets who had told her they’d been mistreated. Those pets she didn’t return, instead finding better homes for them.

  She didn’t get any such vibes from Mrs. Abbott though, especially considering the way the woman clutched Chauncey’s beloved toy.

  “Don’t worry, Mrs. Abbott,” Alice said, her tone determined. “I’ll find Chauncey for you. Guaranteed.”

  Mrs. Abbott seemed appeased. She handed Woobie to Alice and looked her deep in the eyes. “Please find him, Alice. He’s never been out on his own before.”

  Alice touched Mrs. Abbott on the shoulder. “I will.”

  She then ran off to her car, ol’ Gertie, an ancient station wagon that looked like it could only still be running through sheer magic. And that wasn’t exactly too far off.

  She dug through her collection of objects and ingredients in the back of her wagon. Some may have referred to the collection as a “mess,” but she’d always insist it was part of her system. And this time around, her system produced the exact items she would need to cast a quick location spell—a special candle, and a mortar and pestle.

  This particular location spell would be a minor one, requiring Alice to grind up a leaf from the missing subject’s last known location, to be burned in the candle’s flame. From there, the ash would blow in the direction of the lost target.

  It was quick and easy, the only drawback being it wasn’t perfect. It wouldn’t pinpoint Chauncey’s exact location, but at least it would give her a general area to start from. If he had gotten in a car with a stranger for some reason, she would be able to tell where they were traveling. If he had wandered into the woods, she would at least know in which direction.

  Mrs. Abbott had said they’d been at the dog park when Chauncey disappeared, so that was where Alice found her leaf for the spell.

  As it turned out, right next to the dog park was a small patch of woods next to a fairly busy road, followed by the larger forest known as Ghost Woods. Ghost Woods stretched on for miles and made up just a small patch of the much larger state park. The spell indicated he went in that direction.

  So Chauncey was missing approximately six hours and was somewhere within Ghost Woods. Despite its spooky name, Ghost Woods was a pretty safe place with hiking trails and several small ponds, some of which were good for casual fishing.

  Chauncey made it across that road safely, Alice could tell that much, but it probably contributed to his remaining lost. Once across the street, it would’ve been harder for him to pick up any familiar scents. Being a house pet his entire life, most of these smells would be completely new to him.

  Now, after talking to Mr. Millipede, Alice believed she was on the right track.

  “Chauncey,” she called out. “Here boy!” Magic was great, but some old fashioned shouting couldn’t hurt either.

  She made her way deeper into Ghost Woods and pulled out her phone. 6:05pm. It was summer and there were more than two good hours of light left. Even if she couldn’t find him before dark, there were spells she could cast to provide a little light.

  Still, she was sure Chauncey must’ve been afraid as well as confused, so finding him before dark would be better for his little old heart and psyche. Although there wasn’t much for predators out here, there would be plenty of opportunity for a house pet like Chauncey to meet with some kind of mishap.

  She decided it was worth her time to try to communicate with something a little more challenging than normal. She walked into a small clearing and found the largest tree there, an oak with branches that reached far into the sky, and roots that dominated the forest floor.

  Alice sat in front of it, legs folded, and closed her eyes. She smiled a calm and peaceful smile as she reached out. She knew this tree couldn’t see a smile, but she felt the expression would help her send the right kind of message.

  This form of communication spell was less a spell and more of a meditation. She found her peaceful center and a short time later located what she considered to be the spirit within—or of—the tree.

  That spirit was serene and beautiful, something hard to describe or quantify. Her smile broadened. With plants, words didn’t mean much. Instead, she projected an image of an old pug out toward the spirit of the tree, alongside a plea for help.

  Almost instantly came what passed for a reply: a vision of a small brown pug rumbling through the clearing, tripping over one of the tree’s roots, then stopping and sniffing at nearly everything before bounding off deeper into the woods.

  She jumped to her feet and began trotting off in the direction Chauncey had gone, before stopping just long enough to put a hand on the helpful tree. “Thanks, big fella,” she said.

  She walked for a few more minutes, intermittently calling out Chauncey’s name. The woods weren’t very dense here, and she could see far enough through the trees to make out one of the fishing ponds off to her left. She headed that way. It was a logical place for any animal, lost or not, to stop and refresh itself.

  She came out of the woods. The green algae-filled pond had no markers; it was surrounded on all sides by trees and tall green grass. Nobody was fishing here today, but she could make out some rustling just ahead in the tall grass, right along the shore of the pond. If it were Chauncey in the overgrown grass, she didn’t want to startle him and have him run away again.

  Instead of attempting stealth or simply bum rushing toward the rustling grass, she cut a straight line to the pond. From there she’d be in the most visible spot for Chauncey to see her if he was willing to emerge from the grass.

  Summoning her calmest demeanor and voice, she gently called out his name again.

  “Chauncey. Is that you?”

  The rustling stopped abruptly. Alice again summoned her magical skills to shift from normal talk to the magical form of communication the pug was likely to understand and respond to. It was second nature to her, something she did every day, barely a spell at all.

  “Hi, Chauncey. My name is Alice, and I’m your mom’s friend. She’s really worried about you and sent me to find you.”

  Nothing. The tall grass remained unmoving.

  “I have your Woobie. You want it?”

  “My Woobie?” Alice heard back, barely a whisper.

  She smiled. “Yup. Here, I’ll put him down. You can come get him if you want.” She did so and took a few steps back.

  She heard the sniffling of his nose. The tall grass began to rustle again. A few seconds later, the little black and fawn pug emerged, his nose guiding him to the toy Alice had just laid down. His big brown eyes glanced up at her only briefly, the bulk of his attention firmly on his old Woobie. Satisfied, his curled tail began wagging his entire butt back and forth as he excitedly spun round and round.

  Alice chuckled and sat down a few feet in front of him. “What do you say, little guy? Are you done with your adventure? Ready to go home?”

  There was no tentativeness now. He ran right up to Alice, bumping Woobie into her hand. She grabbed Woobie and pulled gently. The pug growled playfully and pulled hard. They continued this tug of war for a few moments before Alice gave in.

  “Whew,” she said. “Too strong for me, buddy.”

  “Grab it! Grab it!” he insisted.

  “Tell you what. I’m gonna pick you up and take you back to my car so I can drive you home. We can play tug o’ war all you like on the ride back. How about that?”

  Chauncey stopped and looked at Alice, his eyes tearful and innocent. “I was so scared.”

  Alice’s heart broke. “Aw. I know, buddy. But there’s nothing to be scared of now.
I’ll help.”

  “I miss my lady.”

  Oh my goodness, she thought. His “lady.”

  “I want to go home,” he added.

  “Good. Your lady wants you home too.” When Alice reached down to pick him up, he practically leaped into her arms.

  “I’m sorry if I scared her. I didn’t mean to get lost. I hope she’s not mad at me.”

  Alice paused for a second. “Does she get mad at you a lot?” she asked cautiously.

  “Oh no,” he insisted. “Sometimes she doesn’t like it when I hop on her when she’s talking to herself with that flat rectangle up to her ear, but really she’s very nice. I miss her.”

  Alice’s shoulders relaxed. “Good. I don’t think she’s mad at you, Chauncey. She’s just worried sick.”

  “Okay,” he said. “Let’s get back to her then.” He relaxed in her arms.

  “Sounds good, buddy. Let’s.”

  She walked for a few minutes before Chauncey added, “You’re nice too.”

  2

  It was ten o’clock when Alice finally returned to her one-story craftsman-style home. Her sage green bungalow had all the cute trimmings one would expect of the style, with white columns supporting a wide cozy front porch.

  While the adorable cottage looked small on the outside, one would be surprised at the size of the interior. And that incongruity was only partially to blame on magic. The rest had to do with the back of the house extending out farther than one could see from the front.

  She put the key in the lock of the red wooden door. As she entered, she was not at all surprised to find her oversized spotted cream cat staring up at her, a demanding look in his green humorless eyes. The markings above his glare only accentuated the frowny look.