Mad as a Hatter (Cauldron of Crime Book 1), page 1
Copyright © by Iris Leigh
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be constructed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Cover Design: Sleepy Fox Studio
Chapter Illustration: @ivonnii_art
Mad as a Hatter
Seeking a little excitement in life can sometimes lead to trouble.
At 37-years-old, life is good but not great. It’s missing a little spark, so it’s high time I do something to rectify that.
A move across the country to the town my grandparents called home is exactly what I’ve been missing. I’ll embrace my magic, reopen their shop, and hope I don’t get run out of a town. The good people of Snowton Heights believe the Wayward curse has returned with a vengeance. That might be true, but before I can find out for sure, I have another problem that needs my attention. A dead body on my front doorstep could derail my quest for a new life.
Contents
1. Chapter 1
2. Chapter 2
3. Chapter 3
4. Chapter 4
5. Chapter 5
6. Chapter 6
7. Chapter 7
8. Chapter 8
9. Chapter 9
10. Chapter 10
11. Chapter 11
12. Chapter 12
13. Chapter 13
14. Chapter 14
15. Chapter 15
16. Chapter 16
17. Chapter 17
18. Chapter 18
19. Chapter 19
20. Chapter 20
21. Chapter 21
22. Chapter 22
23. Chapter 23
24. Chapter 24
25. Chapter 25
26. Chapter 26
27. Chapter 27
Pick Your Poison
About Author
Chapter 1
“Serafina sweetie, there is nothing to be embarrassed about.”
I nodded, rolling my eyes as I stood in the airport waiting for when we could board so I could hightail it out of New York City. It was time. I had nothing going for me here. At least not anymore.
“Your sisters will be so happy to have you closer!” my mother exclaimed as I tried to stuff my items back into my carry-on bag. The flight attendants just called for first class and I wished that could be me. But I was broke. Beyond broke. My mother was paying for my flight so I could leave the city that had been my home for over a decade.
“Mom, you can’t tell Serena and Sabine. We talked about this.”
A dejected sigh escaped my lips. We had talked about it. I knew she would keep my secret, but I also knew she really, like really, wanted to tell my family that I was back in the area. I just wasn’t sure I was ready to face them.
“Sweetie, they won’t care! They will be ecstatic!”
“I know … I just…”
I just didn’t know if I was ready to face them. I left a long time ago, and I felt bad for not being more part of their lives, but I had my own life to live. A perfect, normal, one that I couldn’t do when being a Wayward. My family was the exact opposite of what could be considered normal. Like my mother.
“When you are ready, let me know. I’ll plan a party! Oh, sweetie, I’m so excited you are going to embrace magic.”
I bit my bottom lip as my mother continued talking. Was I fully embracing magic? I don’t think so. Was I going to at least try? Yeah. I held up my keys as I looked at the new addition. It was the whole point I was flying to Seattle. Not to the heart of the city, but to a small suburb that not many people knew existed. Where my grandparents used to live and own a shop. I was going to re-open the shop.
Also, because I lost my job, got kicked out of my apartment by my roommate, and my boyfriend broke up with me. There was that.
I stretched out in my seat, making sure to work out the kinks in my legs. It would be the last time I had proper leg room for the next few hours. Cons of buying a cheap last-minute ticket out of here. Nothing I could do about it.
“Call me if you need anything, okay? Even if you just need to talk.”
“Yes, Mom,” I replied. It felt like I was a teenager again, instead of a woman in my late thirties. My mother nagging to make sure I knew she was there, that she loved me, then she would kiss my forehead and send me off to bed. Even though I disliked it slightly, it was what I needed, some sense of normalcy since my life had been turned upside down—though my mother was the furthest thing from normal.
I grabbed my bag, hauling it over my shoulders as I went to go stand in line. The flight attendants had finally called for my zone to board. I couldn’t help but play with the ticket in my hand. This was my ticket out of here. And to think, just yesterday I had fled from Seattle away from the craziness. Away from the magic. To the hustle and bustle of New York City. My dreams carrying me all the way till I landed on my feet and for a time I had achieved what people would have considered normal. I couldn’t afford to live on my own. I had a roommate—this was New York City, after all—but I had a loving boyfriend, an amazing job, and a normal life. Or so I thought.
“Ticket, please.” A lady with hair pulled back into a low bun, a handkerchief wrapped around her neck, reached for my ticket. A piece of paper I gladly handed over. Quickly placing it facedown on the scanner, it popped green for a moment and she ushered me forward, handing the ticket back to me. As I followed behind the other to board the plane, the knot in my chest loosened. The sadness at losing my life here didn’t leave instantly as I boarded the plane, but it got better. In time, I would pick up the pieces of my life and start anew.
Glancing down at my ticket, I located my seat number before looking around the plane to figure out my seat. A middle seat. I guess it was a little too much to ask to have the magic kick in now and grant me an aisle seat. That was asking for too much, as I had left magic behind and never looked back. Till my life had been a dumpster fire and I needed a miracle. A magical one. That was when I realized I had tried to outrun it, tried to suppress it and forget it, but the thing about magic is that it exists. Regardless if you believe in it or not, it’s out there, just waiting for the perfect moment. The moment to beckon me home. And I had answered.
“Sorry, I’m in the middle seat.”
A businessman sitting in the aisle seat with his laptop already out, rapidly typing away, looked up briefly. He let loose a long huff as he slammed his laptop closed, unbuckled his belt, and stood up slightly, only to lean back in his seat to let me get by.
It was awkward. Having to put his tray up and hold it since I didn’t click it into place. The glares the man was sending me had me fumbling to complete the simplest of tasks as I squeezed by him—only stepping on his toes once. Okay, maybe twice in the process of getting to my seat. With backpack in hand, I slid it under the seat before relaxing. This was really my life now. I was really going to be starting over.
“Hi, I’m Kat, but with a k.”
“Serafina,” I replied as I shook the lady’s hand who had already claimed the window seat. She looked to be in her twenties, but I wasn’t sure about her exact age other than she was younger than me.
“You seem like a cat person.”
“Excuse me?” I replied.
“Sorry. I spend way more time with cats than people, more than I care to admit sometimes.”
“Oh, no problem,” I muttered as I wiggled in my seat, trying to get comfortable for the long flight ahead.
“I’m going to Seattle for fun. I need a vacation.”
She seemed friendly enough, so I replied, “I’m starting over.”
“Any practical reason? Divorce? Job? Change of scenery.”
“I guess all three of them in a weird way,” I answered. While I hadn’t been married, we were practically married. Been together for six years and all of it ended in a single night. No gentle tearing off the Band-Aid, it was just ripped off in one go since he couldn’t see a future with someone who couldn’t hold down a job.
“You should get a cat. There is just something magical about them. They come to you even when you don’t want them.” Kat turned towards me, her eyes rolling slightly. “Trust me, I know.”
I furrowed my eyebrows together, pursing my lips. Kat was an odd one. Though her name fit.
“Don’t mind me, I have gotten used to talking to cats.” Kat paused, her eyes wide. “Not talking, just talking about them. Anyway … have a pleasant flight.” She turned towards the window and peered outside, leaving me to myself as the flight attendant went over the flight safety demonstration. This was it. I was officially on my way to Seattle.
Chapter 2
“You have family out here?”
I cast a glance over to the bus driver, who was looking at me through the rearview mirror. He held my gaze for a moment before going back to focusing on the road. The vehicle jerked as we increased in speed in an attempt to climb the hill. Seattle’s hilly roads were one thing I didn’t miss.
“Kind of,” I replied to the man, his green eyes glancing at me in the mirror briefly.
“Kind of? Like they dead or you don’t talk to them?”
I bit my lip. “Both,” I answered. It was true. I had family scattered throughout Washington. My sisters were in the city, but in the heart of it, instead of in a no-name subdivision far from all the attractions that tourists thought of when thinking of the Emerald City.
“Ah, first time here or been here before?”
I smiled at the bus driver, whose eyebrows shot up in surprise. It was just the two of us on the bus. The last I remembered, few people visited Snowton Heights, and it still seemed to ring true. But I was happy he was providing comfort. This was a tremendous leap I was doing, moving across the country to reopen my grandparents’ shop.
“Been here before. My grandparents used to live here.”
“Oh, really?” His voice took on a higher pitch, signaling his surprise. “My wife is from here but we moved closer to the university due to all the bus routes. Cheaper housing over there than trying to live on Capitol Hill.”
I nodded. It was expensive to live near the attractions that drew in tourists.
“Moving in or just visiting for…” His eyes glanced down to my suitcase and bag. “…a while?”
I couldn’t help but glance down at my items as well. It wasn’t common to travel with as much luggage as I did, but I had a whole life to pack up after all. It wasn’t like I was going to be able to go back to my life in New York anymore. There was nothing waiting for me on that side of the country, only misery.
“Moving. I’m re-opening my grandparents’ shop.”
The bus screeched to a halt as we reached a red light. The bus driver turned in his chair so his body was pointed towards me.
“Oh yeah? What was the name of their shop? I’ll ask my wife about it. Maybe we will even stop by when we are in town.”
“Wayward Shop of Mysteries,” I replied, the name just rolling off my tongue like it was the most natural thing in the world. And I guess it was. Wayward was my last name. It was the shop of mysteries that should have felt foreign. But it wasn’t. Magic coursed through my bloodline, but Grandma thought it would be too obvious to use the world magic in the name. No reason to paint a target on our back that we were witches. Back then, it wasn’t as easy to proclaim being a witch as it is today. Though it’s still hard.
“Oh really? Never heard of it. I will definitely have to bring the wife over one day.”
The man turned back to the road as the light had finally turned green, the bus jerking forward once more, causing my body to slide slightly forward. I held out my hand, pressing it against the seat in front of me, preventing myself from sliding any more.
“Please do. Not sure when I’ll be officially open for business.”
That was the big if. It all depended on the shop and how badly it had been neglected. The only thing I knew was that it wasn’t a broken-down shack, or my mom wouldn’t have proposed this. She knew I wasn’t handy, and with magic it might have been easier to fix it up, but I didn’t have magic. Not after ignoring it for so long. That was the next hurdle. Even if the shop was in good condition, I had to somehow get in tune with my magic to create items to sell. All of it was easier said than done.
“Well, lady, we are almost at our last stop. Snowton Heights,” he called back as he turned a corner, a bus sign up ahead popping up in the headlights. I looked out the window, taking in the city. Last time I had been here was as a child. And didn’t look like much had changed in the years I had been gone. It still felt like a town in the middle of nowhere.
The bus screeched to a halt, the brakes groaning. I stood, grabbing my bags as the doors opened. The bus driver once more turned in his seat, only this time he got up and helped me maneuver my bags off the bus and onto the sidewalk.
“Have a good night and be safe out there.”
“Will do, thank you Mr.…?”
“Just call me Garrett.”
“Well, thank you, Garrett. Have a wonderful night. I can’t wait for you to stop by the shop. That is once I figure out how to open it.”
Garrett waved goodbye as he made his way back onto the bus, calling out over his shoulder one last time before closing the doors and leaving me alone on the sidewalk.
“Oh, don’t worry! I’m sure you will be great!”
I could only hope so.
Chapter 3
I watched the bus take off down the road until it turned the corner and disappeared out of sight before grabbing my bags. Or attempting to. I lunged forward, trying to catch my suitcase as it fell into the street. One wheel had gotten caught in the crack of the road.
“Get out of the street, old lady!”
A man stuck his head out the window, his arm following after him as he held up his middle finger before zooming past and disappearing down the same road the bus had. I didn’t waste another moment and grabbed the handle of my suitcase to drag it out of danger and back to the sidewalk. I guess Snowton Heights wasn’t a ghost town after all if they had such lively people prowling around at night. It also wasn’t the most welcoming either, not at all how I remembered.
With a deep sigh, I tugged my suitcase while clutching my bag over my shoulder and made my way down the street, my feet going on autopilot towards the shop. It was late, and I should head to where I would be sleeping, but a part of me wanted to see the shop. I had a tingling feeling in my chest.
The farther I walked from the bus shop, the quieter it got. Thankfully, I had been dropped off on the strip, the only good thing in Snowton Heights. It was where everything and anything was located, including the Wayward Shop of Mysteries. As if sensing how close I was coming to the place my grandparents loved more than life itself, my pace quickened, fueled by curiosity and a small part by hope—hope that I hadn’t turned my life into even more of a dumpster fire by taking on something impossible. It was already bad enough that…
The self-doubt thoughts halted as I stared at the familiar sign of my childhood. My pace slowed as I took in the shop I hadn’t seen in years. A part of me felt like it was just yesterday, helping my grandparents, and yet a part of me felt like it was thousands of years ago.
Despite only half the sign being readable, there was no doubt this was the Wayward Shop of Mysteries. The new chapter of my life was about to start. I dragged my suitcase the final distance to stand in front of the window as I marveled at the place I had spent a decent amount of my childhood.
The top of the sign, which read Wayward, usually lit up by bulbs, would shine in the moonlight, but not tonight. That was already one item on my list to fix before we opened. Though the second part was just painted in white shone because of the moonlight and streetlights.
“That shop hasn’t been open in years.”
A scream ripped from my throat as I turned on my heels to face the person who’d snuck up on me. He stood two heads taller than me, his hands on his hips, lips curved up in a grin. I placed a hand on my chest, trying to still my beating heart. He didn’t look dangerous, but still … approaching a female at night … alone?
“I know,” I muttered as I patted my pocket, feeling my set of keys. Just in case, I told myself. One could never be too careful.
“If you are looking to buy any souvenirs, you are best looking elsewhere, unless you want to wait a decade or two.”
His laugh was boisterous, disarming, as I took in his green eyes. He reached behind his neck, rubbing at it as he noticed me staring at him. For some reason, I could feel my lips curving upward in a smile. Having a conversation with a stranger at night in the middle of nowhere wasn’t exactly how I imagined starting this new chapter of my life. But it was the perfect time to try new things.
The man shifted, walking past me as he gazed into the shop.
The place that was now mine.
“Every time I look in there, it just gets dustier,” he muttered as he almost pressed his face to the glass and glanced around. Even though I had no idea who he was, I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks. I touched them, and they were hot, surprising since the wind blasting against my face was cold, reminding me that I was still in the north—and yet here was a stranger lighting me on fire from embarrassment from how unkept the place was. The man let loose a whistle as he leaned back, shoving his hands into his pockets. His green eyes landed back on me.
