A Miller's Magical Mystery: Books 1-3 (Ebook)

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I craned my neck and stared up at City Hall, a three-story brick building that loomed over the street. I tried not to twitch as cars sped behind me. Being surrounded by so many people was new.
For the past twenty-five years, ever since my witch powers had arrived in my senior year of high school, I’d spent almost every waking minute on my farm. Until recently, the citizens of Point Pleasant, Washington, hadn't wanted me around. A nasty side effect of a curse my grandmother had been struck with was that every witch in her family, once they came into their powers, was distrusted on sight. I’d been a pariah around town until the curse was broken eight months ago. The distrust had been even worse when I’d visited Seattle. At least here on Whidbey Island, the people had been too nice to do much more than glower, whisper, engage in the occasional prank, or throw eggs at my house. In Seattle, a security guard had chased me down the street after I made the mistake of stopping outside a boutique store.
I squared my shoulders and held my head up high, a trick my mother had taught me when I was young. People felt more uncomfortable going after someone who looked confident. To show weakness was to invite an attack. For years, always smiling and always keeping my head up was the best defense I had.
My mouth went dry, and the palms of my hands began to sweat as I strode toward the front doors. It's just a job. If they didn't want me here, they wouldn't have hired me, right?
The front doors opened into a large foyer with a receptionist desk along the back wall. Desk was probably the wrong term for the massive piece of furniture that ran almost the entire length of the room. I studied it as I moved closer. The thing looked like it was original to the building. It was constructed out of a single piece of wood that must have come from an old-growth forest. There were no seams anywhere. The wood was so smooth it shone under the lights. Seated behind it, small by comparison, was a woman who looked only a few years younger than me. She was in her late thirties, with hair swept back into a loose French twist and a navy-blue blazer over a cream blouse. Her eyes were lined with a dark plum that made their green pop.
"Megan Miller?" The receptionist smiled tightly as I approached.
"That's me." I held my arms motionless at my sides and straightened farther, tilting my head to give myself a haughty expression. I won’t let her see my nerves. I was asked to be here.
"Excellent." She slid a badge across the table toward me. The photo I had sent them was printed on the front, with the words Point Pleasant City Employee stamped across the top.
The ID card didn't list my position. I wasn't sure what they were calling me anyway. I would be a liaison between the city council and the Wardens of the West, a group that was effectively the national police force for the supernatural community. The masses didn’t know about the presence of witches or other supernatural beings. I would probably be listed as some sort of consultant. Or a probationary consultant. I needed to make it through my trial period first before I got the job permanently.
I gave the receptionist an equally tight smile as I clipped the ID card to my chest.
"The council is already in session." The woman cocked her head toward a hallway on her left. "You should head on back. They’re expecting you."
"Thank you." I forced the words out of my mouth, which had somehow managed to get even dryer since I’d walked into the building.
I smoothed my hands down my pants legs and strode down the hallway, my mind going a mile a minute. The new job had been sprung on me unexpectedly only three days before, at a wedding. A member of my coven, Dani, had married the local sheriff after a whirlwind romance. Somehow, at the end of the reception, I’d been roped into a new job. Not that I needed one—I had my farm—but Never say no to the Wardens was like the fifth unspoken rule of the magical community. I had a feeling that messing it up during my trial period would be just as bad as if I had said no. The Wardens didn’t strike me as being the forgiving type.
I peered down at my outfit as I hovered outside the council meeting-room doors. Until recently, my entire wardrobe had been made up of jeans, tank tops, and flannel. My coven had taken me shopping for work clothes, and I’d foolishly stopped them at three pairs of black slacks and a few wrap shirts. The receptionist looked so much more fashionable in comparison. Should I have bought a skirt? Oh god. I'm still wearing work boots. Will anyone take me seriously here?
I shook my head and reached for the door. My fingers froze around the handle as voices rose in anger on the other side. The wood was thick enough that I couldn't make out what was being said. Is it about me? Am I really that late? I got here exactly on time. What if they're like my dad was and anything short of fifteen minutes early is late? I clenched my fist around the knob and steadied my breathing. Then I turned the handle and pushed the door inward.
The council meeting room was larger than I’d expected. It reminded me of a court room. Along the back wall was a long table with a few people sitting behind it. My gaze bounced from face to face. I recognized the city councilors from the town's website, which I had perused the night before. I mentally put names to faces. On the far left was Edgar Graves. He had a strong, prominent jaw that was jutted forward in a scowl and wore a tan suit with a brown tie. Next to him was Helen Stokes. Her graying hair was pulled into a tight bun at the base of her neck. She wore a pastel-blue cardigan over a floral blouse. Between them and the other two city council members stood Steven Bishop, the mayor, wearing a navy-blue suit, and a white shirt with the top button undone. His red tie was loosened a notch. His usually warm smile had been replaced with a tired expression. He swept his hands over his hair, which was short cropped and cut into a clean fade along the sides. My gaze continued down the line to the last two city councilors. Nicholas Reyes, the youngest and newest of the councilors, was leaning back in his seat. He looked almost out of place in a T-shirt and gray blazer. The last man at the table was Arthur Miles, the longest-serving councilman. His hair was almost completely white. He fiddled with a pocket watch as the room exploded into more arguing.
Facing off against the councilors was Miranda Blackwood. She stood on the left side of the room, separated from them by a wooden bar. She was the local warden of the west. Being this close to her terrified me. In the supernatural community, the Wardens frequently acted as judge, jury, and executioner when they felt one of their laws had been broken. The fact that she was stationed in town was disconcerting. And her insistence that I accept a liaison role between her and the town council had given me nightmares for the past two nights. The bad dreams had varied from the ridiculous—showing up to work on my first day naked—to the horrifying, such as this all turning out to be a test which culminated in Miranda Blackwood arresting me for… something.
Miranda slammed her hand against the bar. "Avery's death falls under my jurisdiction. This isn't up for debate. Her body needs to be handed over to me immediately."
My eyes widened. What on earth is going on?
"It's a murder in town," Sheriff Chris Harris cut in. He was on the right side of the room, leaning against the bar, his head half turned toward Miranda as he projected his voice to the councilors at the back of the room. "If the warden—"
I scurried into the room. Everyone there had been informed that supernaturals existed, but I somehow doubted the whole building knew. A door opened farther down the hall, changing the air pressure as I pushed the door to the council room closed. It jerked out of my hands and slammed shut. I winced as the entire room turned to stare at me. I wet my lips.
"Sorry." I stepped back from the door and gestured awkwardly to a chair along the back wall. "I'll, uh… I'll just wait over here."
Chris cleared his throat and shifted his focus back to Miranda and the councilors. "If the warden has information that could lead to an arrest, she should provide it. To my knowledge, the state of Washington doesn't recognize the Wardens of the West as a legitimate law enforcement agency. Avery was murdered. That’s a crime, and therefore, it belongs on my desk."
Miranda scoffed. "Per the agreement the town and the Wardens reached, all supernatural issues are under my purview. This is a supernatural issue."
"Miranda." Steven shook his head. "That is not the exact verbiage of the agreement, and you know it. Do you have any proof that this should be on your desk alone?"
My head swiveled back and forth as I tracked the verbal sparring matching. What agreement? Is that why I'm here? I gripped the edge of my seat as I inched forward. I had heard rumors that the town council was working with the Wardens on issues, but I didn't know a formal agreement had been reached.
Miranda scoffed again and drew herself up straight. She looked imperious in her deep-purple robes, with her jet-black hair streaming down her back. "I don't have to justify what is or isn't my jurisdiction. I am the expert when it comes to supernatural matters. If I have to slow down and explain everything to you all, investigations into crimes like this will get bogged down and killers will walk loose. My word should be taken. This is my jurisdiction."
Chris shook his head. "We're not toddlers. Taking a few minutes of your time to explain isn't that difficult. If she can't share a single reason why the case should be taken away from me, then it should stay where it belongs—on my desk."
Steven pinched the bridge of his nose. "We're talking in circles. Are there any further arguments we should hear before the council votes on the issue?"
"Votes?" Miranda slammed her hand down on the banister again. "It's my jurisdiction. There shouldn't be a vote. As… as nonmagical individuals, you can't possibly understand all the ins and outs of supernatural affairs. And if something were to come out during the sheriff’s investigation that reveals our presence to the populace, what do you expect him to do to cover that up? He can’t modify memories like some of my associates can. Don't do this."
Steven shot her a look of disbelief before he straightened his tie and turned his head to the left. "I'll take that as a no on any new arguments. Let's move on to the vote, then, shall we? Edgar, how do you vote on this issue?"
Edgar pushed his glasses farther up his nose. "No. The case stays with Sheriff Harris."
Steven nodded. "Helen?"
Helen fidgeted with the sleeves of her cardigan. "I've always believed in trusting the experts. In this case, Miranda is that expert. My vote is yes, it should be on her desk."
Steven turned to the right. "Nicholas?"
Nicholas tapped his fingers against the table and pursed his lips. "Yes, with a few caveats. Miranda should report her findings to us. I'm willing to extend trust, but she needs to show us she earned it before I'm willing to extend it again down the line. Plus, I think she should need to run this changing-memories thing by us before carting our constituents off to one of her coworkers."
Miranda crossed her arms and grumbled, "Fine."
My eyes flicked between her and the last council member, Arthur, who was still fiddling with his pocket watch. He didn't even look up as Steven said his name. Instead he pushed the watch into his waist pocket and blinked as he stared out the windows to his right.
"No," Arthur said.
Miranda spluttered.
Arthur cleared his throat. "Historically, crimes have been investigated and solved by the local sheriff's office. It has worked since our founding. If it isn't broken, why fix it?"
Steven leaned forward against the table. "I never thought I would miss Peter. I dislike having to cast the tiebreaker vote. The special election to fill his seat can’t come soon enough."
"Well?" Miranda inched forward. "What will it be?"
"Give me a moment to think." Steven slumped into his seat and steepled his hands in front of his face.
I peered at him as his eyes flicked back and forth between the two options. On the one hand, he had Miranda, who fit the very definition of a prickly person but was the magical expert and could contain any information leaks about the supernatural community. On the other hand, he had Chris, a new sheriff with a spotless track record when it came to bringing people to justice but, though married to a witch, didn't have the same knowledge base as Miranda.
I didn't envy Steven's decision. As he contemplated, my mind whirled through the options. The pros and cons to both sides were equal. Miranda hadn't exactly proven herself trustworthy yet. If only there were a third option.
I sat up straight in my seat. There was a third option. Chris's wife, Dani, had helped him solve multiple cases involving supernatural elements. She could do it. And if she needed assistance with the containment side, she had an entire coven to help.
"What if there were another way?" I asked.
Every eye in the room turned toward me. The hair on the back of my neck rose, and I fought the urge to flee. After decades of such stares leading to insults and derision, it was hard to maintain my confident facade. My mother had trained me to stay out of the limelight. Holding my body still, I lifted my head.
I forced myself to appear calm and confident as I met each one of their gazes in turn. "There is another option. If I may present it?"
Steven motioned me forward.
I stood and walked to the center of the room, between Miranda and Chris, with my head held high. "Councilman Miles was mistaken when he implied only the sheriff's office has investigated and solved crimes. Dani Will—Dani Harris—has assisted in multiple investigations and—"
"Absolutely not." Miranda shook her head and pushed forward a step. She leaned over the banister that separated her from the council members. "If you expect the sheriff's wife to make an impartial decision on whether this should be on her husband's desk or mine, then you are delusional."
Next to me, Chris scoffed. It was almost laughable, thinking Dani couldn’t be impartial. My amusement bubbled up, and I covered my mouth before it could escape.
Miranda spun and glared at me. Every eye in the room was focused on my face. I forced my expression to remain neutral even as my heart pounded wildly. Did I really just laugh? My gaze bounced from face to face. They didn’t know Dani like I did. What can I say so I don't look stupid or overly defensive?
I cleared my throat. "I was using Dani as an example. But… what about me? I am the liaison after all. I could investigate the case and figure out whose desk it actually belongs on."
Edgar raised an eyebrow. “You?”
Smiling at them and forcing my muscles to relax, I inched forward so that they were closer to me. My specialty was enchantment magic—when people were physically near me, they tended to like me. It wasn’t effective one hundred percent of the time, but ever since the curse had been lifted, my specialty had made life easier. Despite that, it was hard not to flinch as everyone in the room tracked my movements.
My mouth was so dry. Too dry. It was hard to continue speaking as my voice became raspier. “Plus, I can contain things. I have some memory-altering powers of my own. I wouldn’t need to send anyone off to an associate. I could handle it myself.”
Steven smiled. It was a genuine smile that reached his eyes. He nodded and spread his hands out wide. "It looks like a third option has been put on the table. Does anyone want to officially add it?"
Helen raised her hand. "I put forth the motion to have Megan Miller investigate the case."
"Seconded," Arthur said.
"Excellent. Do we need time to debate?" Steven looked up and down the table. All of the councilors shook their heads. "Then let's put this to a vote. Edgar?"
One by one, each of the councilors voted in my favor. As Arthur said the final yes, my heart skipped a beat. The investigation was mine.
What on earth am I supposed to do now? I opened and closed my mouth, unsure of what to say.
Steven shot me a relieved smile. “Excellent. You have your first assignment as the liaison—find the killer so we know who can make the arrest. If this goes well, you should be out of the probationary period in no time.”
Chris eased toward me and patted me on the shoulder. "You're going to do great. Victor is retrieving the body from the apiary right now. He should be back in town in about an hour. Talking to him about his findings is probably a good place to start."
My shoulders slid down as the weight of the first decision was lifted off me. "Thanks." I took a step back toward the door. "Well, I… I should probably get started on that, then."
"Good luck, Miss Miller." Steven leaned back in his seat. "Welcome to the team. This should make a memorable first day for you. I look forward to hearing about what you discover after you've looked into things further. Now, let's move onto the next item of business. Abigail and Willow have finished the expansion of the Slice of Life diner. They want to have a grand-reopening event and have asked for some assistance with traffic control."
I backed out of the room and closed the door, cutting off the rest of their conversation, then forced myself to walk calmly down the hallway and out to my truck. Once I was safely behind the wheel, I pulled out my phone, my hands shaking from the stress of volunteering to lead a murder investigation, and typed out a message to my coven.

Megan: SOS. Emergency coven meeting needed ASAP.
Kim: The Bizzy Bean?
Dani: I'm already in the neighborhood.
Heather: I already have a plate of cookies and coffees on standby.
Megan: Already? How did you know I would need your help so quickly?
Heather: It's your first day. I had planned on them being celebratory, but emergency works too. What's wrong?
Megan: I'll tell you when I get there. It's a lot.

I shoved my phone into my pocket. I’d never investigated a crime before. Dani had, and I had lent her a hand on occasion, but this was the first time something this big had been on my shoulders.
Why couldn't I have kept my mouth shut? I'm a farmer, not a detective. I drove straight to my coven. They would know what to do. I needed all the advice I could get before I fell flat on my face in front of all those witnesses.

• Murder Among the Hives
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