A Perfect Spell

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A Perfect Spell Page 3

by Samantha Silver


  “We’re going to ask you some questions, Mr. Frost. Is that alright with you?” Xander began, pulling out his finger and giving it a flick. A glowing, floating notepad appeared, along with a long quill with a peacock feather. He had upgraded his pen, I noticed.

  Mr. Frost nodded, looking totally out of it. “Uh, sure. Sure. Whatever you think will help. What do you want to know?” he asked.

  “Well, first of all, could you verify your daughter’s name and age?” Xander said.

  Tears instantly sprang to the poor man’s eyes. He swiped at them hastily as he replied, through a choked-up voice. “Tina Leigh Frost. Age six.”

  “Very good. Thank you,” Xander said softly. “Could you give me a description of Tina? Take your time, if you need to. I’ll also need a photo, a recent one if possible.”

  Mr. Frost took a deep breath, closing his eyes. I could tell this was incredibly painful, and my heart broke for him. I was not a parent, and I couldn’t really fathom the depth of this man’s pain, but it was horrible to behold. “She’s the sweetest little girl you could ever meet. She’s never met a stranger in her life, you know? Tina would befriend anybody. She’s not afraid of anything. You know, one time, her teacher told me that there was this kid in her kindergarten class who was being picked on by the other kids, and Tina just marched over and started playing with him like they were best friends. She stuck up for him, against all those bullies. Just six years old and she was already such a wonderful person.”

  His face crumpled and he covered it with his hands, his shoulders shaking as he fought back tears. Xander and I exchanged worried expressions. The quill scribbled a few lines onto the notepad in the air. Xander said in a gentle tone, “Sir, that’s all very helpful. But maybe you could start with the basics? What color is her hair? Her eyes? Does she have any birthmarks?”

  “She’s got dark hair like me,” he said, sniffling. “This morning, she had me put her hair in two braids over her shoulders. With… with pink ribbons at the ends. She doesn’t have any birthmarks. Her eyes are brown like her mother’s. Not like mine.”

  “Okay. And what about her mother?” I piped up suddenly, leaning forward. Xander glanced at me in surprise, like he was about to ask a totally different question.

  Renaldo shrugged, looking older and sadder than ever. “Tina’s mom and I, well, we got divorced a little while back. It hit Tina pretty hard at first, but she was adapting so well. My little trooper. You know, I think that kid is tougher than anyone else I know.”

  “I’m sure she is,” I said softly, reaching to pat his hands. “And that will absolutely help her out in this situation. Being tough. She sounds like an amazing little girl. No doubt you’ve raised her to be that way.”

  He beamed with pride for a moment before the sorrow returned to his features. I continued. “Tell me more about your ex-wife, Mr. Frost. What happened? I don’t mean to pry, but at this stage in the investigation, we need as much information about the people in and out of Tina’s life as we can get. Understand?”

  Renaldo nodded. “Yes, of course. That makes sense. Well, Francine - that’s Tina’s mom - she’s had a hard time. Drinking problem, you know. Runs in her family. When we were younger, first getting together, she had a handle on it. She was stone-cold sober. Wasn’t even tempted to touch a drop of the stuff, even when I had a glass of wine or something. I used to tell her, ‘Franny, if the tempation gets to be too much, I would gladly give up my occasional glass of wine to make it easier on you.’ But she never took me up on that offer. Always insisted it was just fine. So I believed her,” he said, shrugging helplessly.

  “What changed?” Xander asked.

  Renaldo’s face fell. “I don’t know. It was right around the time that Tina started school. I work at a welding shop downtown, and I make pretty decent money, so Franny was a stay-at-home mom. It was great. Francine was so good with her. Doing all these arts and crafts with Tina, cooking these fancy meals. The two of them were close, and it all just worked so well. They were always so happy to see me when I came home from work. You know, they used to wait at the front window there and watch me coming up the driveway, just grinning. It was the best possible sight to come home to. But then when Tina started going off to school during the day, Francine was lonely. Bored, you know. I get it. She went from having Tina around all day to being by herself in the house. I suggested maybe she could get a part-time job - not because we needed the money, but just because I thought it might help fill her time and keep her busy. I hated the idea of her alone at the house all day, bored out of her mind and lonesome.”

  “Of course,” I said, prompting him to continue.

  “But she kept saying she was fine, that she didn’t mind. For a while it seemed okay. She was antsy and restless, but nothing too bad, until one day I got a call at work telling me that Franny never showed to pick Tina up from school. I was worried sick, of course. I picked up Tina and went straight home to find Francine passed out drunk on the living room floor right there. I was in shock. And Tina, well, it scared the daylights out of her. She thought her mommy was hurt… or worse. After that, it was like the floodgates had opened. Suddenly, Franny went from sober to constantly drunk. I couldn’t count on her to do the cooking or cleaning or even get dressed in the morning. Where she was getting her booze from, I don’t know. But it was like a switch was flipped, and I was losing her.”

  “That’s terrible, Mr. Frost,” Xander said, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Yeah. It was awful,” Renaldo agreed. “I told her that she could either clean up her act or get out, that I couldn’t let her hurt herself like that and be a bad influence on our daughter. And to my horror, she chose the bottle over us.”

  “Is that what sparked the divorce?” I asked gently.

  He nodded, heaving a sigh. “Yes. We got divorced and I was granted full custody. I never wanted it to be that way. I still loved Franny, of course. Hell, some days it feels like I still do. But I had to put Tina first, you know. That’s what it means to be a parent: you put your child first and everything else has to come second. Unfortunately, for Francine, it just didn’t work out that way.”

  “Addiction is a terrible thing,” I remarked.

  “I agree wholeheartedly,” he said grimly.

  “Mr. Frost, did Tina usually walk to school in the mornings?” Xander asked.

  Renaldo’s eyes swam with tears. “Yes. I suppose now it seems reckless of me. But it’s only six blocks, and Tina was the one who begged me to let her walk. She’s so precocious like that, always wanting to do things on her own.”

  “We wanted you to know we put a quarantine spell over the town. Unless whoever took her moved at the speed of light, she’s got to be around Moonlight Cove somewhere. And we will not rest until we find your little girl,” Xander told Renaldo.

  The worried father smiled through the tears. “Thank you for saying that. I’m going to hold onto that thought.”

  “Renaldo,” Xander said. “Let me ask you something: can you think of anyone who might have any reason or desire to hurt your daughter?”

  His face paled and went splotchy. He shook his head vehemently. “No. Gods, no. Of course not. Tina wouldn’t have any enemies. She’s just a little girl. She’s six years old, for goodness’ sake.”

  I laid my hand on his arm to calm him down. “We understand, Mr. Frost. Really, we do. I know it sounds like a totally preposterous question, but it’s part of protocol,” I explained. “We need to know where to look.”

  It worked. He calmed down. “Right. I’m sorry. I know you’re just trying to help. It’s just that I can’t imagine what kind of sicko would ever want to hurt a little girl like Tina. She’s an innocent. An angel. She’s never done anything bad to anybody.”

  I could tell this line of questioning was not going anywhere, and going by the way Xander was starting to fidget next to me, I had a feeling he felt the same way. “Okay, Mr. Frost, just one more question and we’ll get out of your hair. When w
as the last time you heard from your ex-wife?” I asked.

  He frowned, thinking it over for a minute before replying. “Well, it’s probably been about six months now. She went back to her maiden name: Rhodes. Last I knew, she was out of rehab and trying to start her life over. I don’t know how well that’s going, or if she’s still on the wagon, but that’s what she told me six months ago. Told me she was all better now and that she wanted to see Tina. But I told her no. It was too soon, you see. She needs to prove herself worthy before I let her back into Tina’s life.”

  “Fair enough,” Xander said. “Well, Mr. Frost, we’re going to leave now. If you think of anything else that might be helpful, anything at all, don’t hesitate to give me a call.”

  He pulled out a card with his name and cell number on it, handing it to Mr. Frost. Renaldo took it gladly, then looked at me. “And what about you?”

  I blushed. “Oh. Uh, here.” I took the card and grabbed the magical quill out of the air. It struggled indignantly for a moment before giving up and letting me use it to scribble my name and number on the blank back of the card. I handed it back to Renaldo.

  “Thank you. Please let me know if you find anything out. I’m going to be here all day. And indefinitely. I won’t be able to do anything but sit here until my baby girl is home safe in my arms again,” Mr. Frost said as he stood up to let us out.

  “Will do,” Xander said. “Hang in there, Renaldo. We’re going to do our best to find her.”

  The door closed behind us and Xander and exchanged knowing looks. It was obvious what our next stop was going to be: Francine Rhodes’s house.

  Chapter 4

  “Honestly?” I said as I marched out to the road with Xander, broomstick in hand. “An alcoholism problem in Moonlight Cove is a little surprising.”

  “Not as much as you’d think,” Xander said, raising his eyebrows. “I wouldn’t call one divorced mother an epidemic, but there are definitely a few people in town who have a drinking problem.”

  With that cheerful thought, we mounted our broomsticks and headed toward the outskirts of town to find Francine Rhodes.

  I didn’t visit the far side of town much, and while the town itself was one of the prettiest places I’d ever been to and I couldn’t be prouder to call it home, the less tamed outskirts had their own special beauty to them. That was especially true after a fresh snowfall. We made our way to the address, and it took us down a tidy side-road to a row of cottages up against the woods.

  And I had to admit, when we came to a stop at the cottage at the very end of the road, it definitely was not the kind of place that jumped to mind when I thought of the home of an alcoholic divorcee.

  It wasn’t the flashiest place I’d ever seen, but it looked homey and tidy. The yard was very well taken care of; when we pulled up, a magically animated ceramic garden gnome was removing the last of the snow on the property with a comically tiny shovel.

  We made our way to the door, and Xander knocked. A few moments later, Francine appeared at the door.

  If you’d asked a human what a witch looked like, they probably would have described something like Francine. She looked a few years older than Renaldo, but I recognized the signs of someone who was younger than she looked. A few flecks of premature gray speckled her dark and curly hair, faded circles lined her red-rimmed eyes that had clearly been crying just a few moments ago, and she held the door with a bony hand.

  The thin face in the doorway looked us both up and down for a moment before she pulled the door open to reveal a perfectly tidy apartment, and the woman herself matched it nicely. She wore a skirt and cardigan ensemble that I could have see myself wearing, and a book and cup of steaming tea sat on the coffee table in the living room behind her.

  “Oh, hello there,” she said in a shaken voice that told me she already knew why we were here.

  “Francine Rhodes?” Xander asked gently.

  “Yes, Chief Forsetti,” she said, stepping back and holding the door open for us. “I was expecting you. Renaldo let me know what was going on. Please, come in. I’ll pour you a cup of tea.”

  I felt my heart welling up already, and Xander gave her a polite nod as she opened the door wide for us and we stepped in after her. The interior looked more like my mom’s cottage than a place I would have decorated, even though Francine was much closer to my age. The place was so clean that it could have been mistaken for a hotel room instead of a house, if it weren’t for the abundance of hand-knitted blankets on the backs of the couches. A shelf full of little crystal miniatures that looked spotless and well cared for stood against one wall, and just a glance into the kitchen told me Francine had been baking recently.

  And of course, by the couch was a small trash can full of used tissues.

  “Please, have a seat,” Francine said, motioning towards the seats in the living room. I couldn’t help but notice that her voice was shaking, and Xander exchanged a glance with me. This woman didn’t just seem anxious - she was barely holding it together. “I’m sorry, I usually have the place tidier, I just…” she trailed off, her voice cracking slightly.

  “It’s okay, ma’am,” Xander said. “I know this must be difficult for you, but we need you to answer a few questions all the same.”

  The two of us followed her into the kitchen, where my suspicions were confirmed. There was still flour on the counter, and the smell of freshly-baked bread lingered in the air. I touched the oven on the way in and found it still warm.

  “Oh, and this is my assistant on the investigation,” Xander said, gesturing to me. “Artemis Mani.”

  “Mani?” Francine said, furrowing her brow. “Interesting. I think I may have taken surfing lessons from your mother when I was younger.”

  “Sounds about right,” I said with a nervous laugh, wiping the flour I’d touched onto my dress.

  “I suppose it goes without saying that hobby didn’t take off for me,” she said with a feeble smile. I had to admit, this woman was good at getting my sympathy - maybe too good?

  Okay, it was time to chill a bit. I didn’t have to go full hard-boiled detective mode.

  While Francine began filling a kettle with fresh water, Xander took out a notepad and ran through the events out loud.

  “According to Renaldo, Tina walked six blocks to school, leaving at eight o’clock this morning.”

  “I told him that was a bad idea,” Francine said ruefully, shaking her head and clenching her eyes shut for a moment. “He always told me I was overprotective, but I knew that was just foolish, especially after all those murders this year.”

  I quirked an eyebrow as Xander went on.

  “At eight fifteen, Tina was marked absent for class by her teacher, Mrs. Charlene Woods. Mrs. Woods called Mr. Frost at eight twenty to ask if she was sick. This is all according to Mr. Frost. Mr. Frost then rode his broom down the usual route she takes, and not finding her, called the police department at eight thirty-five to report the incident, then came to the station in person at eight forty.”

  By the time Xander was finished going over the events of the morning, I could already hear Francine holding back sobs, and she grabbed from a box of tissues nearby to put one to her face.

  “I’m very sorry this is happening, Francine,” I said, stepping forward and putting a hand on her shoulder. “But it’s important that we not jump to any conclusions yet.”

  “She’s right,” Xander said in a gentle tone. “This is the morning of the first day - we could hardly ask for a better head start. It may well be that she got distracted and wandered off this morning. And we have put a spell on the town, no one can get in or out until Tina is found.”

  “I understand, and I’m sorry,” she said, sniffling as she turned around. “I don’t like people to see me like this, it’s just, I’ve already lost her once, and…”

  “It’s okay, you don’t have to justify anything to us,” I said softly.

  “Renaldo told us that he has custody of Tina because of some medical issues
you’ve had in your past,” Xander said tactfully. “Is that true?”

  “It’s okay, you can say I’m an alcoholic,” she said, forcing a thin smile.

  “Alcoholism is a disease, so my point stands,” he said sympathetically. “I do need to ask: are you still drinking?”

  “No, sir,” Francine replied with a firm shake of her head, and as the kettle started to boil, she poured us both a cup of spicy-smelling tea. As she did, my eyes wandered around the kitchen, and it confirmed what she said next. “I can proudly say I’ve been sober for six months now. One hundred and thirteen days to be exact. I always will be an alcoholic, and staying sober is a process, but right now, I am sober.”

  “That’s quite an accomplishment,” Xander said.

  “My divorce was a wakeup call,” she said, and by the tone of her voice, I could tell it was something she had either rehearsed or had to say many times before. “Well, separating from Renaldo was inevitable, I suppose, but losing Tina was what hit the hardest. We didn’t always have a happy marriage, Renaldo and I, but I never expected…”

  She trailed off, putting the tissue to her nose again.

  “I understand,” Xander said with a nod. “Do you mind if I ask a few more questions about the divorce, and your relationship with Tina? Every bit of information you can give me helps bring us closer to finding her.”

  “Of course,” she said, as I grabbed my mug of tea and moved back into the living room, pretending to be interested in the crystal miniatures.

  What I really wanted to do was get a chance to look around the house. As quietly as I could, I made my way down the hallway while Xander kept Francine busy with questions. He was good at holding someone’s attention; I had to give him that. And sure, I wasn’t a cop, so I didn’t exactly have authorization to search her house, but she had invited me in nonetheless, so technically I didn’t think I was doing anything illegal. That was my defense of choice, anyway.

 

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