turquoise and white skirt with black tights, a black glitter sweater, and two shades of red in her hair. She was as tiny as a pre-adolescent teenager. Given her size, Wells suspected she struggled with either bulimia or anorexia, but despite her gaunt features, she was a very pretty girl.
“Good afternoon,” Wells said as he stepped inside.
“Thanks for coming.”
The inside of her house reflected her taste in clothes: dark blue painted walls, abstract art, stacks of electronic devices, and a pile of half-folded laundry, darks of course. Wiccan furnishings embellished the room—candleholders with silver pentacles, Celtic symbols, and on the coffee table, occult books on protection, midnight ritual, and psychic meditation. Light afternoon reading, he thought to himself.
The gurgle of a coffee pot puffed from the kitchen, wafting a sweet nutty smell. “I have coffee brewing or I can get you a glass of water,” she said.
“Coffee would be great.”
“Why don’t we sit in the kitchen?” She pointed to the kitchen table and moved a pile of books onto the counter next to the toaster.
“Sure.” Wells took a seat near the window.
Suzanne sat down opposite him, her boney fingers, nails painted black, folded together. She appeared nervous, so Wells spoke first.
“Suzanne, why don’t we start with how you knew Brooke?”
“I met Brooke in Thea Wright’s coven, the Blue Moon Coven. We immediately hit it off and became blood sisters.”
“Blood sisters?”
“Yeah, that’s when you consume a drop of each other’s blood during a Wiccan rite.”
He nodded, trying to imagine Thea performing such acts.
She stood to pour two cups of coffee and brought them to the table.
“Sugar?”
Wells shook his head. “No thanks.” He watched her pour a heaping teaspoon of sugar into her own mug.
Suzanne leaned forward with her elbows on the table. “A few days ago, Brooke came to me about someone playing pranks on her.”
“What kind of pranks?”
“She said that she’d found a dead snake on her doorstep.”
“What else?”
“It was more than one, which is why she thought someone was trying to give her a sign.” Suzanne’s expression deepened. She took a drink of her coffee. “The snake was laid out in a wheel shape, in a way that didn’t seem natural if it had died of natural causes, you know?”
Wells wrapped his hands around the heat of the coffee mug. “Did she name anyone?”
“Not exactly, but she and Thea weren’t getting along.”
Something shifted inside Wells’ gut at the mention of Thea’s name again. Warmth flushed his cheeks, which wasn’t an effect of the coffee. “What would she have accused her of?”
“Thea once said she wanted to curse Brooke.”
“Why would she want to curse Brooke?”
Wells tried to keep an open mind while Suzanne explained, because while she sat there telling him that she believed Thea might have been the one playing the pranks on Brooke, a voice in Wells’ head assured him that Thea wouldn’t have done or said those things. There must be some mistake or another explanation. Not Thea, he wanted to say.
“I don’t know,” Suzanne said with a heavy sigh. “I gather Thea didn’t like the decisions Brooke made in her personal life.”
“Can you elaborate?”
“No. Thea never told me, and Brooke said she didn’t want to get into specifics, but I think Thea frowned upon something Brooke did.”
That was good. He could accept that. Thea was a woman with morals and values, and maybe some people needed to be cursed. He could think of one young boy in particular.
Regardless of whether Thea had cursed Brooke or not or even left the dead snakes at her door, Brooke still died from natural causes. There was nothing more to it.
“Do you think Thea was serious about cursing her? Do you think she would have hurt Brooke?”
Suzanne paused. “No. We all know Thea practices black magic from time to time, but I think she does it for balance. I can’t
“Good afternoon,” Wells said as he stepped inside.
“Thanks for coming.”
The inside of her house reflected her taste in clothes: dark blue painted walls, abstract art, stacks of electronic devices, and a pile of half-folded laundry, darks of course. Wiccan furnishings embellished the room—candleholders with silver pentacles, Celtic symbols, and on the coffee table, occult books on protection, midnight ritual, and psychic meditation. Light afternoon reading, he thought to himself.
The gurgle of a coffee pot puffed from the kitchen, wafting a sweet nutty smell. “I have coffee brewing or I can get you a glass of water,” she said.
“Coffee would be great.”
“Why don’t we sit in the kitchen?” She pointed to the kitchen table and moved a pile of books onto the counter next to the toaster.
“Sure.” Wells took a seat near the window.
Suzanne sat down opposite him, her boney fingers, nails painted black, folded together. She appeared nervous, so Wells spoke first.
“Suzanne, why don’t we start with how you knew Brooke?”
“I met Brooke in Thea Wright’s coven, the Blue Moon Coven. We immediately hit it off and became blood sisters.”
“Blood sisters?”
“Yeah, that’s when you consume a drop of each other’s blood during a Wiccan rite.”
He nodded, trying to imagine Thea performing such acts.
She stood to pour two cups of coffee and brought them to the table.
“Sugar?”
Wells shook his head. “No thanks.” He watched her pour a heaping teaspoon of sugar into her own mug.
Suzanne leaned forward with her elbows on the table. “A few days ago, Brooke came to me about someone playing pranks on her.”
“What kind of pranks?”
“She said that she’d found a dead snake on her doorstep.”
“What else?”
“It was more than one, which is why she thought someone was trying to give her a sign.” Suzanne’s expression deepened. She took a drink of her coffee. “The snake was laid out in a wheel shape, in a way that didn’t seem natural if it had died of natural causes, you know?”
Wells wrapped his hands around the heat of the coffee mug. “Did she name anyone?”
“Not exactly, but she and Thea weren’t getting along.”
Something shifted inside Wells’ gut at the mention of Thea’s name again. Warmth flushed his cheeks, which wasn’t an effect of the coffee. “What would she have accused her of?”
“Thea once said she wanted to curse Brooke.”
“Why would she want to curse Brooke?”
Wells tried to keep an open mind while Suzanne explained, because while she sat there telling him that she believed Thea might have been the one playing the pranks on Brooke, a voice in Wells’ head assured him that Thea wouldn’t have done or said those things. There must be some mistake or another explanation. Not Thea, he wanted to say.
“I don’t know,” Suzanne said with a heavy sigh. “I gather Thea didn’t like the decisions Brooke made in her personal life.”
“Can you elaborate?”
“No. Thea never told me, and Brooke said she didn’t want to get into specifics, but I think Thea frowned upon something Brooke did.”
That was good. He could accept that. Thea was a woman with morals and values, and maybe some people needed to be cursed. He could think of one young boy in particular.
Regardless of whether Thea had cursed Brooke or not or even left the dead snakes at her door, Brooke still died from natural causes. There was nothing more to it.
“Do you think Thea was serious about cursing her? Do you think she would have hurt Brooke?”
Suzanne paused. “No. We all know Thea practices black magic from time to time, but I think she does it for balance. I can’t