Wicked Witch Murder by Leslie Meier Page A

Diana. But when she did a slow drive-by to assess the situation, she found it deserted, although there was clear evidence that somebody had been there: a large pentagram had been sprayed on the lavender door in thick black paint.
    Lucy took care to park her car at some distance from the shop and walked back, peeking out from under her umbrella and watching for trouble. However, when she approached the little shop, nobody seemed to be out in the rain except her. As she drew closer, she saw the sodden ground was littered with takeout wrappers, probably dropped by the reporters. Once she stepped on the porch, she discovered a couple of windowpanes had been broken. Peering through the window, she saw rocks lying in the display area. Probably the work of some of the town’s dimmer youth, stoked by a few beers, but distressing evidence that public sentiment was turning against the witch, she thought, unlocking the door. Stepping inside, she found mail that had been shoved through the slot in the door lying on the floor. She picked it up after propping her dripping umbrella against the wall. As she gathered the envelopes, she found some letters that had not been delivered by the postman—they had no stamps or address, only the single word WITCH crudely scrawled in angry red capital letters.
    One wasn’t even in an envelope but was simply folded in half, and she was unable to resist the temptation to read it. The message was short and to the point: BURN NOW OR BURN IN HELL. The author had thoughtfully illustrated the letter with an amateurish drawing of red, yellow, and orange flames. Lucy quickly refolded the paper, wishing she’d never seen it, wishing she could throw it away and be rid of it. It made her feel queasy, and she desperately wanted to wash her hands, as if she could wash away the hate and anger. Increasingly uneasy, she quickly searched the store and made sure it was empty. It was, except for Piewocket. She found him hiding under the counter, tucked into a dark corner behind a trash basket. She gave him a little scratch behind the ears, but let him be for the moment, hoping he’d come out of his own accord.
    Stuffing the mail into one of the lavender bags with the shop name, SOLSTICE , printed in gold, she gathered the things that Diana had requested. Diana had also asked her to bring some clean clothing, so Lucy had to go upstairs to the apartment. She climbed the stairs reluctantly, not exactly sure what she was afraid of. The sound of rain on the roof grew louder as she climbed the stairs.
    But when she opened the door to the cozy little studio that was tucked under the sharply peaked roof, she found everything in order. The door opened to a basic kitchen area, with a counter and a couple of stools where Diana probably took her meals. It was very clean and neat. A row of glass canisters held staples like whole wheat pasta, oatmeal, and beans.
    The living area contained a daybed with iron curlicues, neatly made with a purple coverlet and a number of brightly colored pillows. A big bentwood rocker and an old wooden trunk that served as a coffee table completed the furniture arrangement. A small bookcase held a number of books on witchcraft. A chest of drawers stood next to a closet, and a tiny bathroom with a claw-foot tub was tucked behind. Lucy found a big tote bag on the closet shelf and filled it with basics: underwear, T-shirts, shorts and jeans, a comfy hoodie. An empty cosmetics bag was in the tote, and Lucy filled it with the herbal shampoo, face cream, and deodorant she found in the bathroom—all products she’d seen downstairs in the shop.
    When she finished packing and went back downstairs, Lucy found herself in a bit of a quandary. Piewocket had emerged and was sniffing at some broken glass on the floor. She didn’t want to leave him, but she wasn’t at all sure that Libby would welcome a feline guest. She quickly taped some of the Solstice bags over the broken windows in