A Drop of Magic (A Sugarcomb Lake Cozy Mystery Book 3) Read online

  A DROP OF MAGIC

  Alaine Allister

  Copyright © 2016 A. Allister

  This is a work of fiction. All characters and events depicted are products of the author’s imagination. The cover is for illustrative purposes only. All rights reserved.

  Clarissa Spencer’s to-do list:

  - Find out who murdered the dean of Green City University

  - Learn to make her broomstick fly (hopefully without injury)

  - Get her kooky Aunt Matilda to stop casting spells on her

  - Find out if her boyfriend has fallen victim to a love potion

  There’s never a dull moment in Clarissa’s life!

  Why, oh why can’t there ever just be a dull moment?!

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter 01

  Chapter 02

  Chapter 03

  Chapter 04

  Chapter 05

  Chapter 06

  Chapter 07

  Chapter 08

  Chapter 09

  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 01

  “Come on, you stupid thing!”

  Clarissa Spencer glared at her opponent, unwilling to give up. She was trying to do the impossible, really. It was no wonder she seemed to be engaged in a losing battle. But the young news reporter was determined. She wasn’t about to give up without a fight.

  Her blue-green eyes flashing with defiance, Clarissa stared down her opponent. She took a deep breath in an attempt to maintain her composure. Then she reached out, grabbed the old broom in her hands and jumped.

  To an outsider, Clarissa would have looked quite silly. In fact, she probably would have looked downright insane. She was talking – rather angrily – to an inanimate object. And now she was attempting to ride it.

  Yep, her behavior certainly seemed crazy.

  It wasn’t at all what one would expect a normal person to do.

  But Clarissa wasn’t a normal person.

  One night a while back, her life had been forever changed. After being struck by lightning in the woods behind her house, Clarissa had begun to experience strange things. At first, she hadn’t known what was going on.

  Her eccentric Aunt Matilda had gleefully informed her she was a witch. Matilda claimed to be a witch, too. It had sounded like the ravings of a lunatic…and Clarissa’s loopy aunt could be kind of nuts sometimes.

  But then the spells Clarissa had tried on a whim had worked!

  After that, there had been no denying that Matilda spoke the truth. Clarissa possessed supernatural abilities – she had seen the effects of her spells and potions first hand. Apparently the jolt of electricity had awoken her powers. It was official: she believed in magic now.

  Clarissa Spencer was a witch.

  It sounded cool in theory, but in practice it was often an exercise in frustration. Clarissa was a novice witch. Practicing magic was like learning to ride a bike…and she definitely still needed her training wheels.

  Casting spells didn’t come easily to Clarissa. In fact, witchcraft required a surprising amount of practice and precision. As much as she would have loved to dive right in, she couldn’t. She had to start out slow and fine tune her craft. Some days she simply didn’t have the patience for it.

  “Ouch!” Clarissa hissed as she and the broomstick both fell to the kitchen floor.

  “Meow,” said her housemate.

  The black stray had turned up on Clarissa’s doorstep a while back. She had made the mistake of feeding it. Then it had refused to leave. The fickle feline was the single most aggravating creature Clarissa had ever encountered – or close to it, anyway. The little beast apparently thought Clarissa was its slave and treated her accordingly.

  Clarissa and her unwanted guest-turned-dictator had developed a tentative truce. It basically consisted of the young reporter doing everything the cat demanded in order to stay on its good side. It was a rather one-sided truce, but it kept the peace.

  “What are you looking at, Cat?” Clarissa muttered.

  The cat stared at her, unblinking. Its black fur was shiny and sleek. Its tiny pink nose wiggled, almost as though the creature was snorting in amusement. It looked…well, it looked rather smug. Could cats smirk? If so, this one was definitely smirking.

  The novice witch was pretty sure the feisty feline was mocking her. Actually, its tail was now flitting back and forth, signifying excitement and delight. Apparently her inability to get the broom up off the ground for more than a second or two at a time was very entertaining.

  The little beast probably enjoyed watching her fall, too, sadistic creature that it was.

  “You’re a jerk,” Clarissa grumbled.

  The cat yawned and curled up into a ball.

  Apparently sleeping in the middle of the kitchen floor made perfect sense if the sun was shining in the window. Sleeping on hardwood didn’t look the least bit comfortable. Cat logic was something Clarissa would never, ever figure out. Some days she wasn’t even sure cats possessed any logic at all.

  But at least if the cat was sunbathing in the kitchen, it wasn’t shedding all over the furniture in the living room. That was a welcome change.

  Clarissa stood back up, her legs sore. After countless tumbles, she was sure her knees and backside were going to be black and blue. But a few bruises would be well worth it if she was finally able to master the art of flying on a broom.

  Determined, she climbed up on a kitchen chair with the broom in hand.

  “I’m going to get this if it’s the last thing I do,” Clarissa whispered to herself sternly.

  Then, as she looked down at the kitchen floor, it occurred to her that it very well could be the last thing she did. She hated heights. She was terrified of them, really. But the lure of being able to fly was too tempting to pass up.

  Besides, her rain gutters weren’t going to clean themselves.

  Living in a quaint cottage-style home on the outskirts of town had its perks. The craftsmanship was stunning, the location was private and the view was gorgeous. But living on the cusp of a forest meant there were a lot of leaves clogging up her rain gutters!

  Climbing a ladder seemed far more terrifying than flying atop a broom.

  Clarissa couldn’t quite explain why that was. Then again, she wasn’t always known for being logical or level-headed. Sometimes she could be downright irrational…though compared to her kooky aunt and her lunatic of a cat, Clarissa seemed quite normal indeed.

  “Mrow.”

  “Don’t look at me like that,” Clarissa told the cat. “It’s psyching me out!”

  The cat mewled at her unapologetically.

  Clarissa teetered precariously on top of the wooden chair. She was tempted to give up and get down before she hurt herself. But her stubbornness prevailed. She was determined to master the art of flying!

  “Maybe I just need to be higher up,” Clarissa told the cat in a wavering voice. “The higher up I am, the better I’ll fly. That makes sense, right? Oh, who am I kidding? None of this makes any sense. What should I do?”

  The cat ignored her. Batting its paw at an imaginary foe was apparently more interesting.

  Careful to maintain her balance, Clarissa slowly bent her knees. Then she positioned
the broom beneath her so that she could sit on it. She was gripping the wooden handle so tightly that her knuckles hurt.

  Her heart was racing and her palms were sweaty. She felt light-headed and very, very tense. The cautious, rational, skeptical part of her brain was screaming at her to stop. It was also calling her an idiot.

  Before she could lose her nerve, she closed her eyes and jumped.

  Chapter 02

  The new witch braced herself for a hard fall. In fact, she expected it.

  After a moment, she realized she wasn’t sprawled on the kitchen floor. Her bottom wasn’t sore from yet another tumble. In fact, there had been no impact at all. Confused, Clarissa opened her eyes to assess the situation.

  The first thing she saw was the clock on the wall.

  That was odd, because she was eye level with it. Normally, she had to look up to see it. That could only mean one thing. Wide-eyed, Clarissa hurriedly looked down at the kitchen floor. Then her mouth fell open in shock.

  Her toes were a good six inches above the hardwood! Clarissa was so stunned by her success that she could hardly believe it! The broom was suspended in midair, and she was seated on top of it. She was levitating! It was an incredible feeling.

  “Look!” Clarissa told the cat, eager to share her accomplishment. “Look at me!”

  The cat ignored her.

  “Hey, Cat!” Clarissa tried again. “Over here!”

  The cat rolled over, turning its back on her.

  Why was it that the little monster was always front row and center to witness Clarissa’s failures, but had no interest in celebrating her victories? It wasn’t fair. But the excited young woman wasn’t about to let the fickle feline’s indifference spoil her impressive feat.

  She was flying!

  Well, technically she was hovering. But that was one step closer to flying!

  Clarissa decided to try to move the broom.

  She wasn’t quite sure how to do it.

  Somehow she needed to harness her magic and channel it into the broom. It always looked so easy when fictional witches on TV flew around on their broomsticks. But Clarissa was quickly concluding that fictional witchery was very different from the real thing.

  “Okay, what now?” Clarissa whispered to herself. “How do I make the broom do what I want?”

  Although Clarissa’s aunt was her self-appointed guide in all things witchy, Matilda wasn’t particularly helpful. She was far too easily distracted to provide much proper guidance. All she had told Clarissa was that she needed to concentrate. Sure, it sounded easy enough. But what did it even mean?

  Screwing her eyes shut, Clarissa tried to focus all her attention on the broom beneath her. She forced herself to visualize what she wanted. Maybe she needed to picture her goals before she could attain them.

  Okay, that sounded like something a motivational speaker would say, not a witch!

  But it was still worth a try. It wasn’t like Clarissa had a better idea.

  “Move!” the novice witch whispered, urging the broom forward. “Go over there!”

  The broom did nothing.

  It was almost as uncooperative as the cat.

  “Come on, come on!”

  Suddenly there was a knock at the door.

  Clarissa’s eyes popped open. Her concentration broken, the broom fell to the ground.

  The startled young woman crashed down with it.

  “Ow!” she complained as her backside broke her fall.

  The cat, of course, was once again watching Clarissa with great interest.

  The knocking on the door grew more insistent.

  “I’m coming!” Clarissa called, wincing as she climbed to her feet.

  Standing out on the porch was none other than Aunt Matilda.

  With her arched eyebrows, full lips and high cheekbones, Matilda looked like a slightly older version of Clarissa. She was wearing a long purple bohemian style dress, casual flip flops and approximately a dozen necklaces. Her crimson colored hair cascaded down her shoulders. She really was very pretty, in an eccentric, free-spirited sort of way.

  Matilda was pacing around, pausing every few steps to peer in the window. When she finally saw her niece, she smiled brightly. Waving enthusiastically, she motioned for Clarissa to hurry up and unlock the door.

  “Matilda! What are you doing here?” Clarissa asked in surprise.

  After college, Clarissa had returned to her hometown. Sugarcomb Lake was Minnesota’s best kept secret, and it held a special place in her heart. She liked the sleepy small town – well, most of the time. It had its quirks, sure. But it was home.

  Matilda, however, didn’t live there. She had spent her youth gallivanting all over the world. She’d lived a nomadic life. She’d had experiences most people could only imagine. She had finally settled down in Green City. There, she taught history at the university.

  Though Green City wasn’t terribly far away, it wasn’t exactly right down the road either. Clarissa quickly concluded this wasn’t merely a social call. She looked at her aunt expectantly, waiting for an explanation.

  “Why is your door locked?” Matilda demanded.

  “Huh?”

  “Your door,” Matilda said again. “You keep it locked?”

  “Um…yes?”

  “Why? I couldn’t get in!”

  “Well…that’s sort of what locks do,” Clarissa explained, confused. Then she realized the conversation could easily go around in circles for hours if she let it. She decided to try to refocus her scatterbrained aunt’s attention. “Why are you here?” she asked again.

  “It was a nice day for a road trip,” Matilda said evasively.

  Glancing past her aunt, Clarissa noted the empty driveway. “Where’s your car?”

  “I flew here,” Matilda said as if it was no big deal.

  That was when Clarissa noticed the broom propped up against the railing of the porch.

  Suddenly she understood. Matilda had hopped on her broom and, on a whim, decided to fly the whole way from Green City to Sugarcomb Lake. Meanwhile Clarissa could barely even get her broom off the ground! It wasn’t fair!

  “How do you fly?” Clarissa asked for the umpteenth time.

  “I told you already,” Matilda replied. “You just need to concentrate.”

  “That doesn’t help!” Clarissa grumbled. “Can’t you be more specific?”

  How on earth had her aunt made a career of teaching? Surely a college instructor would be good at explaining things…or at least one should be. But scatterbrained Matilda was the world’s worst mentor when it came to witchcraft! It was so frustrating! Hopefully she was better at teaching history.

  “Flying is easy,” Matilda said, grabbing the broom she had flown in on.

  Right before Clarissa’s eyes, the broom levitated. Then it shot out of Matilda’s hand, flew into the driveway and twirled around in the air. It spun round and round, putting on quite a show. Then Matilda snapped her fingers. The broom immediately fell to the ground.

  “See?” Matilda smiled. “It’s simple.”

  “How did you do that?” Clarissa demanded.

  She was equal parts fascinated and annoyed. Every time she saw her aunt do something like that, it took her breath away. But the way Matilda flaunted her magic was so frustrating! Her unhelpful instructions were extra aggravating.

  “We don’t have time for this right now,” Matilda said, finally acknowledging the real reason why she had shown up unannounced. “I need your help.”

  Chapter 03

  “I’m working on a potion,” Matilda announced.

  She said it so casually that it almost sounded normal. Maybe to her it was normal. Matilda had embraced her magical powers right from the beginning. To her, being a witch came as naturally as breathing. Sometimes she seemed to forget that Clarissa was new to the world of witchcraft.

  She pushed past Clarissa.

  “Come on in,” the younger woman said sarcastically.

  “I’m already in,” Mat
ilda informed her with a toss of her crimson locks, completely missing the point. Once she was inside the house, she walked purposefully from room to room. She seemed to be rather aggravated.

  Clarissa followed her aunt from room to room, perplexed. Matilda was always kind of odd, but this was strange behavior even for her. What was up?

  “What are you looking for?” Clarissa finally asked, wondering what was going on.

  “I need the bark of a diseased willow tree,” Matilda announced.

  “And you’re looking for that…in my house?”

  “You’re right,” Matilda said, stopping so abruptly that Clarissa nearly walked into her. “We need to go look for diseased willow tree bark in the woods. Come on!”

  Clarissa certainly hadn’t expected to spend her Saturday afternoon clomping through the forest with her aunt…but why not? She didn’t protest. Instead, she dutifully slipped on a pair of sneakers and followed Matilda outside. It was a beautiful day and she could use the exercise.

  Once the two women had entered the forest, Clarissa grew curious. Her aunt’s brand of magic was much more advanced than her own. Matilda admittedly had decades more experience. But even so, Clarissa had never heard of a potion that called for diseased willow bark.

  “What kind of potion are you making?” she asked her aunt as they slogged through the brush.

  “Are you still seeing that reporter?” Matilda demanded, ignoring the question. “Parker, isn’t it?”

  Clarissa’s face immediately heated up at the mention of Parker Tweed. The handsome newspaper reporter had once been her professional rival. Now he was quickly becoming her favorite person to spend time with.

  “Well?” Matilda urged when she didn’t get an answer quickly enough. “Are you two together?”

  “We’re still seeing each other,” Clarissa confirmed.

  She hoped she wouldn’t come to regret the day she had confided in her aunt about her crush. Maybe that hadn’t been wise. But she had been so starry-eyed over Parker that she had been eager to talk about him to anyone who would listen…even Matilda.