Angela Pepper [Onbekend] - Wishful Wisteria (Wisteria Witches Mysteries - Daybreak Book 3)

Wednesday Morning

First Week in August

Pacific Spirit Park, Wisteria

The man slumped on the park bench was motionless.

I approached the bench at a casual, disinterested pace, aware that someone could be watching. Magic pooled within my hands, at the ready. A wise witch had to be on high alert whenever anything broke the pattern of an ordinary day. Strange happenings and danger walked hand in hand.

Somewhere in the park, a dog barked. It was a tiny bark, more of a yip than a woof, and that yip resonated with approximately seven pounds of unholy terror. I knew that bark. Pippi Poplin, the Pomeranian. Danger was afoot, after all.

At the sound of the yip, the man slumped on the bench stirred. His head jerked up. He pushed back his hat and glanced around sleepily, rubbing his eyes.

I could let my guard down. The man wasnt dead after all, which meant I wouldnt be spending my day filling out incident reports.

The power level of the plasma in my hands dropped from Wallop Senseless all the way past various Day Ruining levels, and down to Mild Indigestion. As the tingling in my fingers dissipated, I breathed easier. Good ol Harry wasnt dead yet.

Even with his hat tipped over his face, I had recognized the figure on the park bench as Harry Blackstone. He was a regular at the Wisteria Public Library. He loved dozing in the cozy reading corner that caught the mid-afternoon sun. Harry had learned our routine, and had his own. He knew to get comfortable by one oclock so he could get enjoy a full sleep cycle before we did the 2:00 pm patrol, also known as The Nap OClock Wakeup.

As I watched him, Harry removed his hat and ran his hand through his hair, which was as thick and unruly as it was entirely black. He was only in his early fifties, which was young for such a prolific public napper. His eyes were large, brown, and continuously scanning, more out of curiosity than anxiety. His nose was large, with a hump on the bridge, and a pointed tip. He had small, square teeth, with a gap in the middle. His features werent perfectly balanced, but his warm personality and heartfelt smile made him handsome, all the same. I might have set him up with my aunt, if it wasnt for one small issue: He could be dead by the end of the year, according to him.

Hed explained to me that he napped frequently because, despite appearances, he wasnt well. He was currently enjoying a surprise respite from his unexplained illness, but the good health wouldnt be permanent. And that was okay, as far as he was concerned. He had big plans for his afterlife, hed told me with a wink. He was an inventor, and hed only just begun his greatest work. As for his days on earth, hed already done some creative refinancing to get his affairs in order, and would simply live out his remaining days with what he called graceful surrender.

Good morning, Mr. Blackstone, I called out cheerfully. That bench doesnt look nearly as comfortable as a nice leather club chair!

He flashed his smile of small, square teeth with a sizable gap, and retorted, A hard bench is not my favorite spot to rest my eyes, but at least I dont get in trouble for snoring! He chuckled. And call me Harry! Mr. Blackstone is my boring, uptight brother.

Okay, Harry. But if your brothers anything like you, I doubt hes boring.

Oh, hes pretty dull, but people change. Harry smirked. People change, he repeated.

I stopped in front of the bench. My back was damp with perspiration from the bright late-summer sunshine. On any other day, I might have taken a break on the bench next to Harry, but that particular morning I was running late due to some issues at the house with our protective wards.

Making polite conversation, as one ought to in a small town, I said, Great weather for the end of summer. I gestured to the edge of the forest, where some of the deciduous trees were sporting orange and red hints of a pending wardrobe change. I cant wait to see the leaves turn. I hear the fall foliage is stunning.

Ah, yes, Harry said with a knowing eyebrow-raise, his large, brown eyes roving around, scanning our surroundings tirelessly. But we must not be in too much of a rush to see the seasons change. We have to enjoy this beautiful last month of summer while it lasts.

I winced inwardly as I realized my faux pas. Mentioning the passage of time in a positive, anticipatory manner was not the best choice for idle chatter with the terminally ill.

Harry, seemingly unperturbed, replaced his floppy hat on his thick black hair and continued talking. As soon as the September rain begins to fall, it wont stop until October.

I nodded. Id heard that warning from several longtime Wisterians, but didnt believe it.

Harry stretched his arms across the back of the bench and loosely crossed one leg over the other. Ive got a secret for you, he said in a fatherly tone. Stock up on umbrellas right away. Once the rain starts up, you wont be able to find a decent one anywhere in town.

Thats a great tip, I said. Ill return the favor with a secret of my own. I leaned forward, held my hand to the side of my mouth, and said, You dont actually snore. Thats something we tell everyone, whether they snore or not, to discourage napping in the library.

He started chuckling, and soon he was laughing so hard, he had to uncross his legs and slap both knees to get it all out.

I shouldnt have divulged one of the librarys secrets, but it made my heart sing to see a dying man so happy.

Have a great day, I said, stepping backward onto the path. Maybe Ill see you later.

He stopped laughing, and his expression quickly turned serious. You will be seeing me, he said. Sooner than you think. His gaze meandered over to the forest, where it suddenly froze. He frowned, looking at the point where the path I stood on disappeared into darkness.

The grave tone of his voice, combined with his expression, gave me the same ominous feeling Id gotten from the sight of his limp body.

I considered sitting on the bench after all, and finding out more about his illness, using magic or my natural charm. I could get whatever information I wanted, if I tried.

But then Harrys big, brown eyes returned to their usual scanning, and his focus shifted away from the forest. His expression relaxed, and he waved at someone behind me. I turned to find the source of the yip Id heard earlier. Pippi Poplin, the Pomeranian, was dragging her owner, Patricia Poplin, toward us.

Floopy Double Doops!

I muttered another hasty goodbye, and took off before the duo could engage.

Pacific Spirit Forest was noticeably cooler than the open park had been, thanks to the shady leaves. After the perspiration on my back evaporated, I buttoned my cardigansboth of themagainst the chill.

The forest was peaceful. Too peaceful. The birds werent chirping.

The back of my head tingled. Was it just my skin contracting in the cool forest air, or was something magical afoot?

Using minimal hand motions, I cast a basic threat detection spell. The shadows to my left inversed, darkness turning to light.

Thanks to the spell, now I saw what had been there the whole time. Who had been there.

The threat glowed like a lantern. It continued moving alongside me, unaware of the spell that shone a spotlight upon it.