Rise & Fall Read online

  Rise & Fall

  Nether Edge Cozy Mystery #5

  Wendy Meadows

  Copyright © 2018 by Wendy Meadows

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Printed in the United States of America

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Thanks for reading

  Be the First to Know

  About the Author

  Also by Wendy Meadows

  Chapter One

  Well, it’s got more options to start with. So, what I’m trying to say is that the range is better.”

  Cassy was not going to accept this at all, but she let the small man continue anyway. “Go on…” she said, barely containing her contempt.

  “The store’s bigger too, and well ventilated,” continued Donnahue.

  So what? The implication that the Spicery had a strong smell was ridiculous. Of course it did, it sold spices!

  “Go on…”

  “Not that I’m saying you girls aren’t kind to me, but that other place does have the nicest, most helpful people.”

  A growl made its way to Cassy’s lips, but she held it back. She could feel Herzog winding his way through her legs, his fur bristling. “Go on…” she said through gritted teeth.

  “You have to admit, Cassandra; the Spicery is a little on the small side.”

  She had to assume that the other place was basically a warehouse the way old Donnahue was talking about it. “Go on…”

  “Well there’s not much more to say apart from…” Donnahue paused, his fingers idly playing with his short, cropped mustache. “You know, for a magic store, you could make this place a little more mysterious. Put up some dreamcatchers or something. They always look good.”

  “It’s not a magic store,” yelped Cassy, aware that she was overreacting a little but annoyed enough that she didn’t really care. “It’s called the Spicery. We sell spices!”

  “And herbs and blends. A few books too,” said Patty who was by now all but cowering somewhere behind the counter from Cassy’s seething rage. She realized now that it had been a bad day to come into work late.

  “Oh, yes! Thank you very much, Patty. Thanks for that oh-so-helpful input,” said Cassy, ladling on the sarcasm. She returned her attention to the diminutive Mr. Donnahue, one of her more regular customers. Leena Donnahue was a regular at the Spicery, but after a recent illness, it had fallen to her husband to get her regular weekly shopping done. Now they were seeing the fallout of putting a man in charge. “It’s called the Spicery for a reason, Mr. Donnahue. What you want to do with anything you buy in here after you’ve left is up to you. I may even be able to give you some pointers, but never once have I claimed to be a ‘magic’ shop. Whatever that means.” Cassy was not yet finished with her little rant, even as Donnahue backed away. “I guess the other place has broomsticks and cauldrons and magical healing crystals and things like that, does it?”

  Donnahue nodded. “They call it The Hocus Pocus Store,” he replied sheepishly. “I think it’s a good place. I just thought you might want to know about it is all. Came by to keep you informed. Apologies if I upset you in any way.”

  Before the exchange could go on any longer, Dot swept in from the other side of the store where she’d been keeping an eye on the situation. She got between her boss who had gone rigid with quiet rage, and the poor old Mr. Donnahue who gripped his hat in his hands like it was a life preserver. “Willy, Willy, you’ve done us all a favor,” said Dot, comforting the man while leading him back to the door which she opened for him. “Normally Cassy likes to be the first to know about this type of thing so I can only thank you for keeping us up to date. It caught her off guard is all, but a little competition never hurt anyone. You be sure to come back anytime you need Leena’s liver oil. I’ll have it ready and waiting for you as always.”

  Donnahue replaced his hat on his head and made his farewells before stumbling back outside, more than a little shell shocked by the encounter. Dot leaned back against the door as it closed behind him.

  “Cassandra Dean!” she said, summoning a surprisingly commanding tone. “Just what do you think you are doing? He’s a good customer and doesn’t need that kind of unwarranted grilling. That’s not how you keep business, you know. Besides, I have an appointment with Leena tomorrow. How am I meant to show my face there now?”

  So there it was. Dot did have an ulterior motive. Leena was a beautician. Dot had been seeing her on and off for years. Any pretense of a business was just a formality and their sessions were simply excuses to meet and chat.

  Air rushed from Cassy’s nostrils like she was some kind of impotent dragon, although she did look red enough to be snorting out fire. “It just makes me so mad. People have no respect for the kind of thing we do here. They think it’s all a game, a marketing gimmick. I studied for years to get where I am today, to learn everything there is to know about every combination of ingredient and catalyst and what effects they have. I’m talking about real magic, Dot. Not some Hocus Pocus, plastic, no good, pre-packaged, Walmart version of an ancient tradition passed down through generations of women. This is the real deal. And they think they can just move in and set up shop. Who even does that? It’s not exactly a booming business. It’s not like Havenholm can support two magic stores. Who needs two? Hocus Pocus indeed.”

  “I thought you said this wasn’t a magic store,” came Patty’s diminished voice from somewhere at the back of the store. Dot scolded Patty with a withering look.

  Strangely, Cassy appeared to calm down.

  “You’re right. This is the Nether Edge Spicery. The magic is what you bring to what we sell. No gimmicks, no marketing nonsense. Just plain, honest facts and educated advice.” It was a sort of Mantra come ethos Cassy had developed.

  There was an awkward silence as both Dot and Patty waited for Cassy’s next move. They didn’t have to wait for long.

  “I’m going over there,” she said.

  “Is that wise?” asked Dot who was still leaning against the exit. “Don’t you want to take a moment first? I’ll put a pot of tea on. That lavender infusion we just got in promotes calmness.”

  “I am calm, Dorothy,” said Cassy, despite using Dot’s full name being a sign that she was anything but calm. “I’m going to calmly go over to Hocu—the new shop—and see what the competition is like.” She tried to wave Dot to one side. “Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe it isn’t a complete waste of people’s time. Maybe it isn’t run by some untrained charlatan taking our paying customers for a ride. Maybe it really is an authentic and genuine place. I would surely welcome competition like that. Of course, Havenholm needs TWO MAGIC SHOPS!”

  Cassy stormed up to Dot who dived out of the way when it became apparent that she wasn’t about to stop. The bell above the door rang furiously back and forth as Cassy burst out onto the sidewalk. In the quiet that followed the owner of the Nether Edge Spicery’s departure, Pat crept slowly out from her hiding place and came to stand alongside Dot. Both of them watched as Cassy strode down the street as if looking for a fight.

  “I’m confused; is this a magic shop or not?”

  “It’s a shop owned by a witch. Make of that what you will.”

  “This isn’t going to end well, is it, Dot?”

/>   “No, Patty. I don’t think it is.”

  Chapter Two

  By the time Cassy had located the store (she refused to call it by its official name, the words ‘hocus pocus’ made her wretch a little) she had calmed down and was beginning to consider the benefits of having direct competition. She’d been isolated from modern developments in the field for too long and maybe she might even get a few new ideas. You can’t live in a vacuum, she told herself. A little competition was good to keep you from stagnating. There was a very real risk that the Spicery might become part of the Havenholm scenery and just blend into the background. She had to innovate and keep her customers up to date with all the latest trends.

  As she turned the corner onto Main Street (an expensive location to rent retail space) Cassy had all but washed any negative assumptions she’d been building up since hearing about Hocus Pocus, though the name still rankled. Even the sight of the store’s logo didn’t put her off entirely. The beaming smile plastered across a chubby looking cauldron, complete with little arms and legs, greeted her as she approached the automatic doors. With a whoosh, they ushered her inside the new store and almost immediately all the goodwill she’d developed over the short trip from the Spicery evaporated.

  It was the smell of bleach that did it. But it wasn’t just the bleach, which had been used to clean the immaculate white tiled floors, but the joss sticks too, burning in a little holder by the entrance, presumably there to mask the chemical tang of cleaning products. All it did was highlight the fake ‘pine freshness’ and add its own sickly sweet heady scent.

  And people said that her store smelled—which it did of course. It smelled gorgeous, and earthy and ripe and real with a dizzying concoction of a hundred spices and dozens of herbs.

  This was something altogether different. This was an assault.

  Cassy blinked against the strip lights, her eyes gradually becoming accustomed to the harsh iridescence. Twinkling above her like a flock of birds were several dozen dreamcatchers. Just how many dreams did they want? This was like an industrial fishing operation.

  Where the Spicery was on the small side, Hocus Pocus stunned with the sheer size of the shop floor. Though it wasn’t much compared to the grocery store next door, or even the stubborn video rental place (HavenVideo; owner of twelve copies of Jerry McGuire on VHS), Hocus Pocus was more than ample for what Cassy had to concede was a niche market. Just as she was wondering how they managed to fill the space, her answer came to her. There were the usual things that she might stock; prepared jars of ointment, a selection of scented candles and some possibly imbued with one of her secret magical concoctions. There were several open barrels just like the Spicery, though here they had been made to resemble traditional cauldrons and each brimmed with interesting and vivid petals, herbs and spices. Putting her theory to test, Cassy plunged her hand into the nearest one, which was full of cloves. What should have been a potent scent was masked by the lingering pine floor cleaner. This wasn’t the biggest problem, however. As Cassy forced her hand down, she soon came to the false bottom less than a foot from the top. Like everything in the store, it was shallow. Adding to that initial disappointment were all trinkets and pointless ephemera associated with witchcraft; everything from actual brooms, to crystal balls and little porcelain frogs with crowns on. She couldn’t work out quite what the connection there was, but it was no less strange than half the things in there. She was just about to give up when she came across a cauldron of stuffed toy cats. Hoisting one by the scruff of its neck like it was a real kitten, Cassy observed the crude stuffed cat.

  “I’ll have to get Herzog one of these. I’m sure he’ll appreciate it,” she muttered to herself.

  “How old is Herzog?” Cassy jumped a little at the voice behind her, which tripped over the odd name. “We can gift-wrap it if you want.”

  Cassy turned to the tall woman with long straight black hair. Her clothes could have been described as ‘Puritan.’ Either that or Hocus Pocus had a very conservative policy towards uniforms.

  “Hundreds of years old, I should think,” said Cassy dismissively yet earnestly. “And I don’t think he’s too bothered by unwrapping things.”

  Along the back wall there were rows upon rows of small vials with little labels on them. Each looked roughly identical and appeared to be filled with water. It was just as Cassy had feared. It might actually be nothing more than water but marketed as homeopathic medicines. It was the bane of her profession and just the kind of thing that she suspected this place to sell. Sugar water sold as a genuine cure based solely on belief. You could deny the placebo effect, but you couldn’t deny that tap water had the same effect.

  “There’s a ten percent discount on your first purchase, valid for the rest of the month.” She smiled a wide, toothy grin. “I’ll just bag this up for you.”

  It hadn’t been Cassy’s intention to buy anything, but she was already reaching for her purse. She followed the tall woman to where the cash register was on a long, otherwise featureless counter. Above it hung a sign saying ‘Please Pay Here’ as if people needed reminding. At the counter Cassy was greeted by two more women, both wearing the same simple outfit as the tall one who was now scanning Herzog’s new toy. Both had long black hair, though they couldn’t have looked more different otherwise. One had large eyes that were just a little too far apart and a tight little mouth set in a slight face. Next to her was a larger woman with rosy cheeks and bright blue eyes. When she smiled it was like opening the gates to a graveyard, each tooth standing out like tombstones.

  When shall we three meet again, in thunder, lightning, or in rain? It’s the hall of mirror’s version of ‘Charmed’, thought Cassy who had to suppress a laugh.

  Without thinking about it, Cassy pegged them as sisters and from then on could only think of them that way without any proof at all. Closer inspection of the three sisters revealed that they had nametags. The tall one was called Esme, Circe was the smaller one with the bug eyes, and finally there was Morgana who was still grinning in the most distracting manner.

  “That’s twenty dollars, please,” said Esme, handing a black and orange gift bag to Cassy.

  Cassy searched for her purse. “This is quite the place you have here.”

  “It’s a passion project,” said the larger woman. Cassy had to check the name tag again: Morgana. The name was a bit on the nose.

  “Since we were kids we’ve always wanted to spread the word,” added Esme, still holding the bag.

  “The word?” Cassy found her purse and flicked through the wedge of old purchase receipts, cards, random scraps of paper and hopefully money.

  It was Circe’s turn to speak, as if it was all a routine they’d perfected between the three of them. “Spread the love. Spread our belief in the mystical side of life. Don’t you think there’s more going on in the world than it first appears?”

  The thought had occurred to Cassandra. Ever since she’d come through the automatic doors she’d been looking to find the one thing that would bring the entire facade of Hocus Pocus down. Lifelong dreams aren’t about too-sterile shops selling budget healing crystals and cross-eyed stuffed cats.

  “I guess you could say that,” replied Cassy. She was still unwilling to reveal exactly who she was at that moment. There would be a right time. She fished the correct money from her purse and handed it to Circe and took the bag in return. “How’s business? Things going well? I didn’t see any advertising for the store…”

  “We targeted a very specific demographic,” said Esme—or was it Circe? “No point appealing to people who choose not to believe.”

  “Isn’t that exactly who you want to target though?” asked Cassy. It wasn’t as if she had a publicity machine behind her, but even she understood the basics.

  The sisters looked to one another then back at Cassy, mirthless smiles on their lips.

  “Have a nice day,” they said.

  “You too,” Cassy replied instinctively. With the transaction completed
it was up to Cassy to now leave. It would be suspicious, or at least awkward, if she lingered. But that was exactly what she wanted to do. Just one last look around to check out the competition. She wanted to know what was behind the small door at the back of the store. She wanted to know if all the cauldrons were tricked out with false bottoms. She wanted to know how well the sisters knew their stuff. Answers were what she’d been looking for when she’d set out that morning, but all Cassy got was a cheap-looking but costly cat.

  More than a little annoyed with herself, Cassy marched back to the exit, her bag swinging at her side. As she reached the doors they opened but not for her. Coming the other way was Mrs. Orange, the owner of the Cafe just opposite the Spicery. Often she would come by the Spicery to get nutmeg, zest and a variety of teas. Their eyes met briefly as they passed. On recognizing Cassy, Mrs. Orange averted her gaze as if she’d been caught doing something terrible, which in Cassy’s eyes she had. First Donnahue and now Orange; were all of her customers deserting her? Then Cassy saw that Mrs. Orange wasn’t so much averting her gaze as looking down into Cassy’s bag. Of all the people to abandon the Spicery and go shopping at Hocus Pocus, the most egregious was Cassy herself, she now realized.

  “It’s not illegal, is it? And besides, you said it yourself that it does no harm.”

  Dot had spent most of the afternoon trying to calm Cassy down. It wasn’t working. Ever since she’d come back from Hocus Pocus Cassy had been pacing about the store, rearranging shelves that didn’t need it, facing the myriad bottles of plant clippings and the like so that all the hand-written labels were facing forward. She even heaved the central display of barrels (each one full from the top to the bottom) and mopped the floor underneath.