The Witching on the Wall: A Cozy Mystery (The Witchy Women of Coven Grove Book 1) Read Free Page A
Author: Constance Barker
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Fantasy, Mystery, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, supernatural, Religion & Spirituality, cozy, Ghosts, Psychics, New Adult & College, Paranormal & Urban, Werewolves & Shifters, Witches & Wizards, Two Hours or More (65-100 Pages), Occult, Crafts & Hobbies, Culinary, Ghosts & Haunted Houses
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to host Martha’s documentary about the Caves was an unexpected turn for him, and Ryan was eager to find out; though, it would never occur to him to write what he called a ‘character assassination piece’. He was hoping that Trevor and Martha both were simply taking an interest in the home town again after years away.
“ I’ll let them know, Dad.” She smiled, and pecked him on the cheek. He didn’t seem as excited about it as he would have, though.
She didn’t need to ask if everything was okay. It wasn’t. Ryan was Bailey’s adoptive father. She’d always known, somehow, that she was adopted, but they hadn’t actually told her until she was ten. Then, Ryan’s wife Wendy, Bailey’s adopted mother, was with them. She’d made the whole affair a story of a family made whole, instead of a little girl given up. If not for her, there was no telling how Bailey would have taken the news.
More than a mother, Wendy Robinson had been a pillar of Coven Grove, a midwife who, over the course of almost forty years, had helped about half the people of Coven Grove come into the world. When she’d passed two years ago, a hole had opened up in Bailey’s heart that was still very raw.
Whatever her pain was like having lost a mother, it probably paled compared to how Ryan felt. He’d become a different person since then. He still had moments where he was his old self, but they were fewer and fewer, and Bailey worried about his health. What she’d do if she lost him, she didn’t know. He was an anchor, a constant in her life, always full of worldly wisdom and kind words and fatherly love.
He loved Bailey fiercely; they’d gotten much closer since Wendy passed.
“ Well,” Bailey said, instead of dragging up their mutual pain again, “get those writing muscles warmed up. I’ll let you know how it all goes today.”
“ Let’s hope that Irish luck of yours holds up, Red,” he said. “Be sure and tell Poppy I said hello as well.”
Bailey let out a rueful chuckle. Ryan and Poppy had had a bit of a row last year when she’d been working Bailey nearly to death for next to nothing. She’d gotten a small raise shortly after, though it wasn’t much. Now, Poppy got a special scowl every time she heard Bailey’s father mentioned, and Ryan never failed to let it be known how he felt about her in public.
“ I’ll do that, Dad,” she giggled. They hugged again, and Bailey left him, already almost twenty minutes late—based on Poppy’s ridiculous expectation of ‘right now’. It was going to be a positively delightful afternoon.
Chapter 2
Poppy Winters was typically as cool as her apt name implied. That was, unless she was talking to a paying visitor. Then, she was all smiles and warmth; a warm hearth fire for Coven Grove’s tourists to gather around. The sort that played on a TV screen, but with all the appropriate decoration, at least.
Bailey, of course, wasn’t a paying visitor. So as she sat across from Poppy in her office, Poppy’s ornate but sparsely decorated desk between them. Bailey tried not to take her boss’s shortness personally. There was no point, after all—it wasn’t likely to change in the future.
“ Glad you finally decided to show up,” Poppy complained, digging through her purse for something. “I’m drowning here, you have no idea the kind of stress I’m under to keep this place afloat. Martha Tells is a nightmare of a human being, it’s no wonder she hasn’t had a paying gig in five years. She has no idea how to act professional.”
Bailey kept her commentary to herself. “Well, I’m sure once she’s gotten used to us she’ll relax a little bit. So, how can I help? Point me in a direction and I’ll take some of this off your plate.”
“ That would be nice for a change,” Poppy grumbled. She produced a lipstick from her bag, opened it, sneered at the color and then chucked it into the waste basket. “I swear to God, someone is walking off with my
“ I’ll let them know, Dad.” She smiled, and pecked him on the cheek. He didn’t seem as excited about it as he would have, though.
She didn’t need to ask if everything was okay. It wasn’t. Ryan was Bailey’s adoptive father. She’d always known, somehow, that she was adopted, but they hadn’t actually told her until she was ten. Then, Ryan’s wife Wendy, Bailey’s adopted mother, was with them. She’d made the whole affair a story of a family made whole, instead of a little girl given up. If not for her, there was no telling how Bailey would have taken the news.
More than a mother, Wendy Robinson had been a pillar of Coven Grove, a midwife who, over the course of almost forty years, had helped about half the people of Coven Grove come into the world. When she’d passed two years ago, a hole had opened up in Bailey’s heart that was still very raw.
Whatever her pain was like having lost a mother, it probably paled compared to how Ryan felt. He’d become a different person since then. He still had moments where he was his old self, but they were fewer and fewer, and Bailey worried about his health. What she’d do if she lost him, she didn’t know. He was an anchor, a constant in her life, always full of worldly wisdom and kind words and fatherly love.
He loved Bailey fiercely; they’d gotten much closer since Wendy passed.
“ Well,” Bailey said, instead of dragging up their mutual pain again, “get those writing muscles warmed up. I’ll let you know how it all goes today.”
“ Let’s hope that Irish luck of yours holds up, Red,” he said. “Be sure and tell Poppy I said hello as well.”
Bailey let out a rueful chuckle. Ryan and Poppy had had a bit of a row last year when she’d been working Bailey nearly to death for next to nothing. She’d gotten a small raise shortly after, though it wasn’t much. Now, Poppy got a special scowl every time she heard Bailey’s father mentioned, and Ryan never failed to let it be known how he felt about her in public.
“ I’ll do that, Dad,” she giggled. They hugged again, and Bailey left him, already almost twenty minutes late—based on Poppy’s ridiculous expectation of ‘right now’. It was going to be a positively delightful afternoon.
Chapter 2
Poppy Winters was typically as cool as her apt name implied. That was, unless she was talking to a paying visitor. Then, she was all smiles and warmth; a warm hearth fire for Coven Grove’s tourists to gather around. The sort that played on a TV screen, but with all the appropriate decoration, at least.
Bailey, of course, wasn’t a paying visitor. So as she sat across from Poppy in her office, Poppy’s ornate but sparsely decorated desk between them. Bailey tried not to take her boss’s shortness personally. There was no point, after all—it wasn’t likely to change in the future.
“ Glad you finally decided to show up,” Poppy complained, digging through her purse for something. “I’m drowning here, you have no idea the kind of stress I’m under to keep this place afloat. Martha Tells is a nightmare of a human being, it’s no wonder she hasn’t had a paying gig in five years. She has no idea how to act professional.”
Bailey kept her commentary to herself. “Well, I’m sure once she’s gotten used to us she’ll relax a little bit. So, how can I help? Point me in a direction and I’ll take some of this off your plate.”
“ That would be nice for a change,” Poppy grumbled. She produced a lipstick from her bag, opened it, sneered at the color and then chucked it into the waste basket. “I swear to God, someone is walking off with my