Nefarious Nine: A Cozy Mystery (Teas and Temptations Book 9) Read online

  NEFARIOUS NINE

  Teas & Temptations Mysteries

  Book Nine

  By Cindy Stark

  www.cindystark.com

  Nefarious Nine © 2018 C. Nielsen

  Cover Design by Kelli Ann Morgan

  Inspire Creative Services

  All rights reserved

  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. The ebook contained herein constitutes a copyrighted work and may not be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, or stored in or introduced into an information storage and retrieval system in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the copyright owner, except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This ebook is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  License Notes

  Table of Contents

  Welcome to Stonebridge, Massachusetts

  Prologue

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Epilogue

  Excerpt from Murder and Moonstones

  Book List

  About the Author

  Welcome to Stonebridge, Massachusetts

  Welcome to Stonebridge, a small town in Massachusetts where the label “witch” is just as dangerous now as it was in 1692. From a distance, most would say the folks in Stonebridge are about the friendliest around. But a dark and disturbing history is the backbone that continues to haunt citizens of this quaint town where many have secrets they never intend to reveal.

  Visit www.cindystark.com for more titles and release information. Sign up for Cindy’s newsletter to ensure you’re always hearing the latest happenings.

  DISCLAIMER:

  All spells in this book are purely fictional and for fun.

  Prologue

  Stonebridge, Massachusetts 1689

  Clarabelle huddled inside the tiny, abandoned woodshed behind Old Man Hardy’s house, grateful that dawn wasn’t far away. Winter winds howled, and icy fingers snuck through cracks in the thin boards, increasing her shivers. She pulled the hood on her cloak farther over her face and tucked her chin against her chest.

  She wished she dared enter the older man’s house, which should be empty since he’d gone to live with one of his sons, but she didn’t. If it were only her life at stake, she might chance it. But she’d vowed to give her unborn child a better life, and she was determined to see it through.

  She’d bewitched a raven and sent it to Lily with a message, telling her how Cal had cast her aside, and begged Lily to help her. She needed food, shelter, and a way to leave town. The raven had returned, letting her know her friend had received the message, but that had been two days ago, and the little food Clarabelle had stuffed in her bag was nearly gone.

  Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, and she shook her head. She would not cry. She did not have that luxury.

  A sound from outside brought her eyes open wide, and she pushed back her hood. Her pulse quickened, and she braved the cold wind coming in through the cracks in order to get a look outside.

  Two figures dressed in black cloaks approached. Both had their heads down, but Clarabelle could see from their statures that they were likely women. She pulled her grandmother’s alter knife from her pocket in case those approaching weren’t her friends. Though she couldn’t imagine who would venture onto the Hardy property otherwise.

  When Clarabelle caught sight of blond hair blowing from beneath one of the hoods, she exhaled in relief and stood. She cracked open the door to the woodshed and motioned them to hurry.

  Lily stepped inside and released a distressed cry. “Oh, Clarabelle. What has happened? I cannot believe Cal would cast you aside.”

  Genevieve crowded in behind her, pushed her hood back, and revealed gorgeous red curls.

  Tears threatened again, and Clarabelle pinched the underside of her wrist to keep from crying. “It matters not now. He has no loyalty. Not even to his own wife.”

  Lily covered her mouth with a hand and shook her head. “That such tragedy would befall you...”

  Genevieve grasped both of their hands. “The villagers know, Clarabelle. Men have already begun searching.”

  Fear left her colder than the icy winds. “You should not have come then. It will do me know good if you are both taken, too.”

  Genevieve reached into her pocket and produced a folded sheet of paper.

  Clarabelle met her gaze with wide eyes. “Is it…”

  Lily nodded. “After we heard that you had been named, we practiced it on a puddle. The whole thing vanished.”

  A proud smile crossed Genevieve’s lips. “They will not be able to drown us.”

  Lily glanced to Genevieve. “At least not as long as all the elements are present. If one of us is taken, someone will have to bring fire to the pond.”

  They all nodded in agreement. Genevieve met Clarabelle’s gaze. “Eliza is aware of this, too. She has asked her father to ensure we have fire, should all of us be taken.”

  Clarabelle exhaled. She wasn’t safely away from Stonebridge, yet, but her friends gave her hope. “Have you found a way for me to leave without endangering yourselves?”

  Their expressions turned dejected. “Not yet,” Lily said. “But keep faith. We will find a way.”

  Genevieve pulled a bag from beneath her cloak. “We have brought food in the meantime. Tomorrow, my cousin will arrive from Boston, and I will ask him for help. He does not carry witch blood, but he has been sympathetic in the past. I believe he will be our answer.”

  Clarabelle wrapped her arms around Genevieve in a fierce hug. “Thank you, dear sister.”

  An odd look passed over Genevieve’s face. “I have lost a sister and a mother to these heathens. I shall not lose you, too.”

  Genevieve glanced to Lily, and Lily nodded. “We intend to travel with you if we can get her cousin to risk it. None of us are safe here any longer. If they capture you and determine you are a witch, we will be next on their list.”

  Clarabelle clenched her fists and shook her head. “How dare they condemn us like this? It is not right. Now, we will have to sneak away in the middle of the night to escape persecution. We will have to leave our homes and our families. It is not right.”

  “No,” Genevieve agreed. “It is not right.”

  Sounds of approaching horses caught them by surprise, and they glanced at each other in horror.

  “No,” Lily whispered. “We were so careful not to be followed. Perhaps, they are only passing b
y.”

  Clarabelle’s heart broke. “Not this far out. I fear they have found us. Your footprints will lead them directly here. Then they will kill us.”

  Thoughts of being tossed into the water, with townsfolk watching and condemning, haunted her.

  “They will not,” Genevieve said furiously. “We will survive, and when we do, we shall curse this town, that it will never be without one of our family members in residence. In the name of future generations, I claim Stonebridge as our own. We will find a way to make them leave.”

  Fear iced Clarabelle’s veins, and she glanced down at the spell she’d helped her friends to write. This was all that stood between her and her child’s future. Simple words. Yet, words that had the power to set her free.

  Earth, Air, Fire and Water, hear our plea. Your elements are kin to us, and we are part of thee. Lend us your strength. Lend us your power, that we may use it in our darkest hour. Let not the water harm us, we ask of thee. Let it run away, so mote it be.

  Genevieve shook her head. “They must not find that.”

  “No,” Clarabelle whispered. She tore off a tiny piece and shoved it in her mouth. Saliva quickly softened the paper, and she was able to swallow. The others did the same, until they had disposed of the evidence.

  They huddled into a tight circle and held each other, waiting for their fears to be realized.

  “Sisters forever,” Clarabelle whispered.

  “Sisters forever,” Genevieve and Lily agreed.

  The door to the woodshed flew open. Cal Hooten and his father filled the doorway, blocking out all light. Clarabelle never thought her love for Cal could turn to hatred, but his betrayal blew a black hole deep into her heart.

  He would pay in more ways than he realized for the harm he had brought to her. Cal’s father gripped her arm and pulled her from the shed. She turned to Cal as she passed. “To think I had once loved such a monster.”

  Cal’s father knocked her hard enough that her world went black.

  One

  Hazel Hardy woke with a start. Black shadows lurked in her bedroom, heightening her fears and anxiety. The sound of her quickened heartbeats filled her ears and seemed to echo into the silence.

  She kept her breaths shallow as she studied the ominous shapes, looking for any signs of movement.

  Then a soft snore came from beside her, and warmth from her new husband chased away the chill. She realized the only danger in the room was from her overactive imagination.

  She glanced at the clock, and a new shiver raced through her. Half past two in the morning. Nearly the witching hour. The time when all supernatural powers were at their strongest.

  Mere hours had passed since she and Peter Parrish had vowed to love each other until death. Hours since some in the coven had ruined her wedding reception with creeping vines that had attacked her guests in a most horrendous way. Harriett and Olivia had forced her to reveal her true nature, and now everyone in town knew she was a witch.

  She never could have imagined that the best day of her life could turn so tragically wrong.

  Of course, she’d planned at some point to reveal her identity to the townsfolk, once she’d convinced a good majority of them that witches weren’t evil. Well, that most witches weren’t. She’d met a few that she’d be happy to never see again.

  Then again, most groups of people included a few rotten apples.

  She’d wanted to heal the town and bring people together, but now everything was in an uproar, and she had no idea how to proceed.

  If the threats against her were the paranormal kind, she’d be on high alert at this moment. She’d have every candle in the house lit, burning incense and sage until smoke came out her chimney. She’d chant protective spell after protective spell until she couldn’t talk any more.

  But her enemies were the regular kind. Men who couldn’t easily penetrate her sanctuary. Not quite as scary as their paranormal counterparts, and they could wait until tomorrow after she’d slept and was more prepared to deal with her disastrous life.

  Hazel snuggled closer to Peter, closed her eyes, and breathed deeply, encouraging sleep to return.

  Her mind wouldn’t settle.

  Now that she thought about it, Stonebridge’s witch-hating librarian Timothy Franklin was magically inclined, even if he’d denied his witchy heritage. She’d discovered items of the spellcasting type when she’d found his secret box hidden at the library and peeked inside. The question was, how much magic did he really know?

  He could publicly deny he descended from Lily Franklin, one of her great grandmother Clarabelle’s friends, but she knew the truth.

  She also knew that his candles, herbs, and Lily’s spell book meant Timothy could be a bigger threat to her wellbeing and the chance of healing the town than the average guy. If she’d been able to read the future and had known her days of anonymity were limited, she would have found a way to retrieve Timothy’s chest earlier. Doing so would have saved her a lot of trouble and worry.

  Red numbers on the clock read a quarter to three and she cursed her insomnia.

  Apparently, she’d had whatever sleep she’d been granted that night and knew, without a doubt, she wouldn’t get more.

  The witching hour. When her powers would be at their strongest.

  Holy crackers.

  She sat up in bed so fast that she was afraid she’d woken Peter.

  But he slumbered on.

  Her heart thundered, and she placed a hand over it as though to slow her racing pulse. She could think of no better time than right now to break into Timothy’s office to steal Lily’s spell book and Clarabelle’s diary.

  Though taking the diary couldn’t be considered stealing because, by right, it belonged to her.

  And Lily’s spell book? Well, Timothy denied being a witch, so that didn’t belong in his possession, either.

  She knew she fudged a little on that last one, but the whole town was at stake, so taking it was for the good of everyone.

  With her intention set, she grabbed her cell phone off the table next to her and slipped from bed. Quietly, she crept from the room and softly closed the door behind her. Peter wouldn’t be happy with her most recent decision, but retrieving that chest was something she needed to do, and he couldn’t help her with the task.

  But Cora could.

  When she was on the far side of the house, away from the bedroom, she tapped her best friend’s number on her phone and waited. A good five rings passed before Cora answered with a groggy hello.

  “Cora,” Hazel whispered with urgency in her voice. “Are you awake?”

  “Hazel?” Her words came clearer now, and Hazel sensed the worry in them. “Are you okay?”

  She cupped her hand around her mouth and the bottom of the phone, hoping to muffle her voice. “I’m headed to the library to get Timothy’s chest. Right now. Are you in?”

  “What? Now? Hazel, it’s nearly three in the morning.”

  “Exactly. The best time for magic. I have no idea what will happen now that everyone knows I’m a witch, and I need to get those books before Timothy moves his chest. The items inside could be dangerous weapons in his hands.”

  A long pause greeted her, followed by a heavy sigh. “Yes. You’re right.”

  Now for the next hurdle. “Peter has an officer outside guarding the house after the wedding reception debacle, so I can’t take my car. I’m going to sneak out the back and through the woods. Can you pick me up at the corner of Vine and Hemlock in about ten minutes?”

  “Uh…yeah. I just need to throw on some clothes, and I’ll head over. I wish we had time for a strong pot of powerful tea to clear my head.”

  For the first time in hours, Hazel smiled. “Don’t worry. The freezing air will wake us up. Dress warm.”

  After ending the call, Hazel donned a pair of jeans and a hoodie from a basket in the laundry room. She slipped her feet into an old pair of gardening shoes and thrust her arms into her winter coat. Her hair fell about her face in
a tangled mess, but she didn’t have time to fix it.

  Quietly, she twisted the lock on the back door and opened it. Thankfully, she’d oiled the hinges not long after she’d moved in.

  She crept out into the silent, chilly night and softly closed the door behind her. Moisture clung to the thick air, and her breath frosted the moment it left her mouth.

  She paused to check for any signs of human life, then crossed the back lawn to the line of oaks and maples. Soon, the house and the safety it offered disappeared. She used the dimmed screen on her phone to light her way.

  Frozen leaves and twigs crunched softly beneath her shoes and chilled her feet as she made her way through the grove of trees. She wished she’d been able to wear boots, but they were in the bedroom along with Peter, and she couldn’t have chanced waking him.

  She’d be fine. She and Cora had a specific mission, and they wouldn’t be out in the elements for long.

  A nearby branch cracked. She shoved the phone into her pocket to douse the light and whipped around, searching for the cause. Shadows seemed to dart and dance, sending her pulse thundering. She pressed against a tree and stared into the dark night for several moments, but she couldn’t find anything human-shaped.

  Her heartbeat thudded loudly in her chest, but beyond that, she could hear nothing.

  She tried to convince herself that it might be Mr. Kitty, tailing her as he often did. Or his love Sorcha.

  Or even a deer. She’d spotted many amongst the trees since she’d moved in.

  Still, she waited another full minute, watching and listening. Nothing moved, and she decided she couldn’t waste any more time, or they wouldn’t be to the library by three.

  She picked up the pace, choosing speed and leaving the obscurity of the trees over being quiet. If someone was out there, he or she had likely already spotted her, and her best option would be to get to Cora as soon as possible.