Hip to be Witchy

Good witch Abby's got an ear worm and for good reason. It's the big day for Holiday Hills-the opening of the Magical Market, a veritable emporium where the enchanted sell anything and everything from old-world treasures to sparkling baubles. The buzz is thick, and, yeah, even I've caught the excitement bug. So, when Bessie roped me into lending a hand at the Enchanted's booth slinging coffee and treats, how could I say no?

Let's just say, my reputation precedes me. It's not like I bring trouble, but somehow, trouble-specifically the deadly kind-just has a way of finding me. It's as if the universe is dropping morbid breadcrumbs and ignoring them isn't in my nature. What am I supposed to do? Ring up the cops and saunter off? Not on your life.

So there I was, meandering through the bustling market, when I decided to drop by Edgar Holloway's stand, Nightshade Antiquities. Lo and behold, there he was, in the back, only he'd been turned to stone. Cooper, my snarky cat familiar, suggested I whip out a chisel to free him-but that wasn't an option. Instead, I set my sights on hunting down whoever bring to life the popular 70s song.

Don't get me wrong, Holloway was famously cranky, nabbing the title of Holiday Hills's most cantankerous historian for several years running. People had reason not to like the guy. He wasn't exactly Mr. Popular, which meant the list of suspects stretched through town. Sure, the local police were on the case, and dating the police chief did have its perks, like getting to snoop around without too much fuss or thrown in the slammer.

But when the killer starts getting bold, leaving threats on a new friend's doorstep, it's clear this isn't just a game. Knowing the who, what, and how is all fine and dandy, but it's the where, why, and when that'll spring the trap. And you better believe, I'm ready to do whatever it takes to catch a killer. Step aside, because it's game on.