Bryant glanced across the road. ‘Guv, seriously, I’m considering arresting you myself for wasting police time.’
‘Park the car and stay in it if you want,’ she said, opening the passenger door. She was intrigued to browse a shop she’d driven past many times but never really seen.
She considered her colleague’s concern as she crossed the road, but it would be a few hours yet before they could formally question Joe Butler. After processing at the station, there would be a wait for his lawyer, who would then need to consult him.
Inspector Plant and his team were conducting a full search of his home and ensuring the retrieval of his clothing. She’d heard that Lucinda was assisting them fully.
The truth of a woman scorned came to mind.
So, despite Bryant’s protests, there was little else she could be doing right now.
The Wicklow Witch was a double-fronted shop whose signage offered crystals, candles and witchy supplies. If she was to understand more about the Stout curse and its long-lasting effect on two local families, this was the place to look.
She opened the door and stepped into a space that assaulted all her senses. Colourful crystals in all shapes and sizes sat beside candles and bottles of essence. A table in the centre held spell kits and cauldrons. Another table advertised altar tools. A bookcase displayed mystical books.
‘May I help you?’ asked a woman from the back.
‘Not sure,’ Kim said as she continued to look around. She’d had no idea how many things were available, and she had no clue what questions she was going to ask.
‘Are you looking for something in particular?’
‘Not really.’
‘A gift for someone?’
‘No,’ Kim answered as Bryant entered the shop.
Like her, his eyes were darting all over the place.
The woman looked from one to the other and deduced they were together.
‘Can we just pick your brains?’ Kim asked.
‘Of course,’ she said, frowning.
‘We’re police officers,’ Bryant said, holding up his identification.
‘Oh, okay. Well, I’m Monica, and we don’t get many of your sort in here.’
‘What sort do you get?’ Kim asked, taking a seat on a small chaise longue next to the crystal display.
‘People who like pretty things like scented candles. Customers buying presents for family and friends, others buying stuff for a joke. And then we have witches.’
‘People who think they’re witches,’ Kim corrected.
‘As this is my shop and I am a green witch, we’ll assume that I believe, and you don’t.’
‘Great start,’ Bryant observed to Kim, picking up a packet of herbs.
‘What’s this for?’
‘Virility,’ Monica said.
Bryant carefully placed the packet back on the table.
‘So, you’re a green witch as opposed to…?’
‘Purple, black, white.’
