Next, was Penny. Where had she run off to? She was one heck of a makeup girl, and I couldn't see her just dropping a job like that. Then there was Archie's supernatural comment. How did Penny come by her knowledge? Personal experience, perhaps?
Then you had Irene's parents, whose concerns were purely selfish. That is, they didn't care what had happened to Irene; they only cared who found out about it. That was just cold in their own right. They raised Irene as their daughter, adopted or not, and one would think that they would care about her safety. Could someone really be that self-centered?
Lastly, there was the witch connection. How much had Irene discovered? Did she know her biological family's heritage? Maybe she left home to figure out the truth and something bad happened to her along the way.
I stopped by the newspaper stand in front of the Hendrickses' building to grab a map and drop off the tonic Mary had whipped up for me. The same old man was working the stand, but at least he wasn't grumpy anymore.
"Thank you, young lady. That was mighty nice of you yesterday," he said.
"Feel any better?" I asked.
"Not really," he replied with a laugh.
"Well, here, hopefully this will help." I handed him the dark brown bottle with a rubber stopper. He took it and held the bottle up to the light. "A friend of mine is a gifted healer and said this would help." I almost said a gifted witch, which wouldn't have been good.
"What's in it?"
Good question. "I think she said apple cider vinegar, lemon juice and turmeric? She said to drink one teaspoon three times a day."
"Huh, haven't tried that before. Guess we'll see how it works," he replied. "Did you ever find Archie?"
"I did. I didn't tell him he was fired though, sorry."
"That's okay. He still hasn't showed."
"Well, I hope you find someone to help you out soon and that you feel better," I said, before heading inside to the Hendrickses’ apartment. I was tempted to pick up another Cup-o-Gold, which had turned out to be a chocolate cup filled with marshmallow, almonds, and coconut, but decided it wouldn't be good for my waistline to snack on that and Mary's strawberry pie.
Back at the apartment, I put the pie on the counter and figured I'd had at least another hour before Mr. or Mrs. Hendricks came home. Of course, with Mr. Hendricks' schedule, there was no guarantee what time he would walk through the door. I was going to be more careful this time. George came out of the bedroom, meowed pathetically, and started pacing in front of his bowl, which was empty.
"It's not dinnertime yet, buddy," I said, bending down and scratching the cat’s ears.
George bumped my hand in response.
"You have to wait a little bit longer to eat," I said as if I was talking to a little kid.
George turned and nipped my hand in response before running off. Apparently, he hadn't liked that answer.
Not wanting the cat to retaliate by peeing in my shoes, I took a piece of deli ham from the fridge and added it to his bowl. George quickly came scampering back and dug right in.
Now it was time to get to work. I made sure the map I bought showed all five of New York City's boroughs. I was going to try to scry for Irene once more, but this time using my quartz crystal and the map to guide me. I tucked myself away in my bedroom. The door didn't have a lock, but I performed a quick spell so that no one could enter the room until I released the bond. Like before in Mr. Hendricks' office, I took a moment to ground myself and to let my powers awaken. The map was laid out on the bedroom dresser, and I stood before it, my quartz crystal dangling above it, tied to a black ribbon.
Powers I need, come to me.
Show me Irene so that I may see.
The crystal swayed in a gentle gliding motion, like the pendulum on a grandfather clock, slow and rhythmic until an unseen force took over and snatched the ribbon from my hand. The crystal ricocheted across the room and smacked into the window.
"Holy cats!" I ran over to examine the window and sure enough, there was a chip in it. Thank heavens it left it at that and hadn't spider cracked rest of the window. Right now the window just looked like it had been hit by a rock, which of course, it had, except this one came from the inside area. I retrieved my crystal and examined it, noticing that it had been fractured as well.
It was official. Irene had either fully come into her magic or someone magical was hiding her.
Was that other someone magical Penny? And was she friend or foe? I no longer knew what to think. Hopefully, if Penny was with her now, she wasn't being cloaked as well.
I took a few calming breaths and opened the bedroom window to let in some fresh air and energy with it. I needed to get my mind back in the game and ready to try scrying again, this time for Penny. A few minutes later, when I finally felt at peace and ready to try again, I repeated the spell, replacing Irene's name with Penny's. Like before, the crystal began to swing like a pendulum between my fingers until it swung in an arching motion, the circle becoming tighter and tighter, zeroing in on a neighborhood. The crystal dropped, and I looked to see where it had fallen. Even damaged, the crystal pinged Penny's location within a couple of seconds.
"Harlem," I said aloud.
What was Harlem like in the 1950s? Specifically 125th Street in East Harlem? This was one time that I wished I could pick up my phone and Google something. Sure would've made life a heck of a lot easier. Regardless, it looked like I'd be paying the boroughs a visit tonight. That is, after I baked some breaded pork chops. That thought made my stomach turn. At least Mary had provided dessert.
Later that evening, after all of my housekeeper duties were done for the day, I checked in with the Hendrickses to make sure that they didn't need anything else before telling them that I was retiring to my bedroom for the evening. I knew for a fact that Mrs. Hendricks wouldn't come out of her room after her hair rollers were set. Just like I knew that Mr. Hendricks would be tucked away in his study for the next several hours.
I waited until they were settled for the evening before bringing my map out once more. Again, my crystal picked up Penny at the same location. It was time I headed there myself.
I changed out of my housekeeper uniform and into a pair of black petal pushers and a cranberry-colored shirt with black ballet flats on my feet before climbing out my bedroom window and down the fire escape. I was hoping that at this time of night, the map had pinpointed Penny's apartment, or another place where she and Irene could be staying in together. Perhaps a hotel?
The subway was now my friend, so I rode it north to East Harlem, making sure to keep track of the stations and watch for my exit.
The graffiti on the subway station stairwell should've been my first clue that this wasn't necessarily the best neighborhood in town. I didn't even reach the top step before my powers were crackling and popping at the ready. I was going to take calming breaths to tuck them back in until I thought that maybe I should trust my intuition and keep them at the ready.
When the street-level air hit me, I knew exactly the cause of my uneasiness. Shifters. Their scent was heavy in the air, and I had a feeling I knew where it was coming from.
Across the street, diagonal from the subway station, was a billiard hall. Outside, a group of men stood, smoking cigarettes and taking drags off their bottles of beer. The air seemed to vibrate in front of them as if they could transform at any moment, when in reality they could. Tomorrow was the full moon. The true shifter could shift anytime of the month, but they had to on the full moon. Which meant, in twenty-four hours, I wouldn't want to be walking these streets alone. Well, I could hold my own, but you know what I meant. Unfortunately, the billiard hall was exactly where my crystal had pinged Penny. Shifters were physically strong, and even though magic ran through their veins, they weren't witches. I had to be smart and use the powers given to me to search the building.
Time to get my game face on.
I walked past the group of guys with my shoulders set and my eyes straight ahead. The billiard hall door was solid
metal except for a little square hole cut out on the front of it where someone could look out. More shifters were inside, mixed in with a few regular humans.
The floors were charred black and the air filled with thick smoke. Balls cracked as they were hit with cues, spinning across the green felt, ricocheting off one another, and careening into the pockets. There weren't any booths, only a few scattered high-top tables filled with beer bottles and dirty ashtrays. People seemed to prefer to stand or mingle around the billiard tables. To my right, across from the bar toward the back of the room, was a set of stairs. They weren't hidden; anyone could go down them it seemed, that is, once you got past the guard. With his shaved head and strong, broad shoulders ripped with more muscles than one man should possibly have, the man was a werewolf for sure. They made the best guards. If Irene and Penny were being held here, you could bet he was the gatekeeper.
I went up to the bar and ordered a beer, trying to blend in against the wall while I watched the scene. Every few minutes or so, a man, sometimes accompanied by his date, would go down into the basement. Waitresses seemed to float up and down the stairs, delivering drinks nonstop. More people went down the stairs than came back up, that was for sure. I didn't know what exactly was going on down there, but I needed to find out. I looked for someone who I could pump for information, knowing I could erase their memory if need be. I doubted Mr. Werewolf was going to tell me what I needed to know. Just because he was bulky didn't mean he was brainless.
It took about twenty minutes, but I finally found my target. A woman came up from the basement with her date. Her floor-length brown fur coat looked way too classy for a billiard hall in Harlem. Not to mention that it was summer, and the temperatures were still sitting in the seventies. It looked like they were ready to walk out the door until the man excused himself to use the restroom. The woman took a pack of cigarettes out of her purse and I made my move.
She had the cigarette to her lips and went to light it when I said, "Mind if I bum one?"
"Mind if you don't? Johnny lost his shirt down there. He's gonna be smoking all my cigarettes until payday. Actually, you know what? Scratch that. You can have two." She gave a throaty laugh and shook the pack until two cigarettes rose up. She turned them toward me to grab. I tucked one behind my ear and put the other one between my lips. The woman flipped her lighter and held it up for me. I lit the cigarette and tried not to cough on the inhale. That wouldn't have been cool at all.
"You play?" she asked, nodding over to the stairwell.
"Not usually, but I might tonight," I said bluffing.
"Well, I hope you do better than Johnny. He got screwed, even with the flush. Word to the wise, the cards are favoring the house tonight."
"Good advice, I'll keep that in mind." The woman's date walked our way, and she went over to meet him without saying another word. I watched them leave and then walked up to the bar and put the cigarette down in the arch of the ashtray, leaving it to burn itself out. And then I thought to myself—money, cards, flush—poker.
The bartender started filling a drink order, popping off bottle caps and putting the beers along with a couple of high balls and short tumblers on a serving tray. The moment the bartender turned around, I put my own beer bottle down on the bar and picked up the tray, heading directly for the stairs. The werewolf didn't even look at me as I approached. He absently moved to the side, so I could make my way past him.
The upstairs wasn't nearly as crowded or as smoky compared to the scene in the basement. I'd guess that there were easily a hundred people hanging out in the lower level, tucked in around card tables and standing around taking in the action. Nickels, dimes, and dollar bills were at the center of each table as the card players placed their bets and the hands were dealt. I had been right; they were playing poker. I didn't know New York City's gambling laws, but I got the distinct impression that this sort of activity was illegal.
A picture had started to form in my mind, and it wasn't very pretty. If Irene really could predict the future, then she would be a huge asset to the shifters’ undercover poker operation here. It made their motive for kidnapping her jump up right to the top.
Across the floor, a man signaled to me, and I assumed that he wanted one of these drinks. He was older, I'd say in his sixties. His salt-and-pepper hair was combed over and gelled in place. He had unbuttoned and rolled up his dress shirt sleeves, revealing impressive-looking tattoos on his forearms. The alpha vibe rolled off of him in waves.
"Where's Ronnie?" the man asked me when I reached him.
"She should be down in just a second," I replied, even though I had no idea who Ronnie was. "These your drinks?" I asked. I guessed and placed the short tumbler of whisky down in front of him, taking the empty one in the process.
The man latched onto my wrist. "And who are you?" he practically growled. He looked over his shoulder and I knew he was looking to signal one of his goonies to come and snatch me up. All he needed to do is make eye contact with one of his men, and I would be in trouble. This man was the boss, of that I was certain, and he knew that I didn't work for him.
With one hand holding a tray full of drinks and the other hand caught in his grasp, I used my magic to send a jolt of electricity through our connection and rewire his memory. Unfortunately, the man held on a few moments too long. I swore smoke was about to start curling out of his ears. I yanked my hand back before he could start drooling and used both my hands to steady the tray. The man stared up at me completely dumbfounded.
"Thanks for hiring me tonight. I really appreciate it," I said, and then passed out the rest of the drinks and hightailed it away from the table before anyone else got suspicious of me.
"You okay, Jim?" one of the other card players asked the Boss Man.
I exhaled and looked around the room.
I was going to have to cut this waitressing shift short. I didn't have time to mess around, I needed to find Penny and Irene and get the heck out of there before anyone else got suspicious. For all I knew, Mr. Boss Man didn't even know he was a shifter anymore. That would be one heck of a surprise come tomorrow night.
Speaking of surprises, in that moment, I spotted Penny.
She wasn't with Irene, that was for sure. In fact, at that moment, I doubted she cared much about her missing friend at all. She appeared to be on a date by the way she was flirting with the guy sitting next to her. Her date was about her age, in his early twenties. She was playing poker, or throwing out the guy's cards for him anyway, laughing, tossing her hair over her shoulder, not having a care in the world.
This opened up another slew of questions in Penny's involvement.
Did Penny know she was in a shifter bar?
Back up … did she even know that shifters existed? If Archie was right, and Penny was a supernatural expert, then yes, she knew all about shifters.
Did that mean she could be in on Irene's disappearance?
Once again, I needed to talk to Penny one on one.
But not in here.
I took my empty tray and walked back upstairs, past the werewolf gatekeeper, and dropped the empty tray on the bar before making a beeline for the door. I had decided that I was going to stake out the billiard hall and wait for Penny to emerge. As soon as she did, I was going to follow her and make her talk to me.
Now, I waited.
Chapter 9
If a neighborhood could be described as seedy, this one was it. Cars were scarce and rusty. Feral cats were plenty. Street lights were optional. Large tuffs of grass sprouted up in the cracks on the sidewalk. Trash littered the streets and blew against the buildings, getting caught in darkened corners.
It's a heck of a lot harder to do a stakeout when you don't have a place of residence to spy from or car to seek shelter in. There were only so many doorways I could stand in and for so long without drawing attention to myself, especially in this part of town, where shifters seemed to be congregating everywhere and more than one homeless person was looking for a place to rest
. It had been close to two hours, and there still wasn't any sign of Penny or her date.
I was getting restless. I scanned the neighborhood once more. The only other business besides the billiard hall was a convenience store at the end of the block. It had been hours since I'd last eaten and I was thinking a snack was in order; after all, snacks were mandatory when you were on a stakeout.
If this had been modern day, the convenience store would have bars on its windows and make most of its money from selling beer and scratch-off lottery tickets. But, seeing this was the fifties, the store was stocked with more soda than alcohol and the only thing the windows bore was my reflection. A nice, older man, I'd put him somewhere in his mid-seventies, was working behind the counter. His hair was white, his skin dark, and his glasses were wire framed. He had on brown dress pants and a short-sleeved dress shirt with little brown diamonds on it that matched his pants. The man's clothes were neat and clean, and he looked far too put together to be living in this neighborhood. I suspected that he had been an area resident his entire life and decided to stay put when the neighborhood crumbled around him.
I grabbed a Coke and a candy bar and took them up to the counter.
"Any idea what time the billiard hall down there closes?" I asked the clerk.
"After I do, that's for sure. I was just getting ready to turn my sign," he replied while counting the dimes in his till.
"Well, I guess it's a good thing I walked down here when I did," I replied.
"That it is. I just don't stay open as late as I used to anymore. It's not worth it."
Better Witch Next Time Page 6