Dark Chocolate and Death
Page 7
To my immense relief, the front door opened just then, and Andrea came through, followed closely by Ellie, Tina, and Sara. The three of them were laughing, so I figured it couldn’t have gone that badly.
“How was it?” I asked nervously, not bothering to wait for them to get their shoes off and come into the kitchen.
“Crazy!” Andrea replied. “Thankfully I had the Western Woods witches with me; they knew exactly what spells to cast to look for wards.”
“Amy is better at it than me, but I still managed to find one that would have alerted your Chief Enforcer straightaway,” Ellie explained.
“Did you find anything in Charles’s apartment?”
“Bank statements,” Tina said, nodding quickly. “They were hidden. Ellie thought to text Amy and ask her for a spell to use, which she did, and it revealed the bank statements that Charles had gone to great lengths to conceal.”
“Sure enough, he has a few bank accounts in the Occayman Islands,” Sara said. “There are millions of abras in there, way more than he should have gotten from the inheritance and Charles.”
“We think he was probably a con man for a living,” Tina said. “Kind of like an uglier, one-man version of Ocean’s Eleven.”
“What’s Ocean’s Eleven?” Andrea asked with a tilt of the head, but Ellie forged ahead without answering the question.
“So the problem is, were there more victims that we don’t know about? More people who might have had a reason to kill Charles who aren’t on the radar yet. What did you guys find out when you visited Carl?”
“Apparently he has an alibi,” I said. That reminded me to check my phone, and I realized that while I had been outside ugly crying, Amy had texted.
Dad backs up Carl’s alibi. Apparently he was there that morning.
“Yes, Amy texted me and his alibi checks out. Carl was with her dad the morning of the murder,” I added.
“Well, listen, we took pictures of the bank statements with my phone, and I’ll see if I can convince Amy to look into them as much as she can. After all, Amy’s basically the smartest witch we know, so hopefully she’ll be able to take that information and figure out who more of Charles’s victims were.”
“I have copies as well. I figured Ashley might be able to help us too,” Andrea added.
“I’m not sure I’m comfortable being involved in this,” Ashley said, crossing her arms. Tina smiled.
“That’s what Amy always says too, and she always ends up helping us. I know how you feel, but it’s hard not to get drawn into the murder investigation eventually.”
“Besides, you said you didn’t like the way people were looking at you, like our entire family were criminals. We are doing this to stop people from thinking that, because if the real killer is found, then everyone will know that it wasn’t anyone from our family.”
“I guess,” Ashley finally muttered.
“Great!” Ellie said happily. “Andrea and I have sorted everything out; she’s going to take point on everything here in Pacific Cove, and we’re going to do what we can from Western Woods. Stay in touch. I’m sure that this case is going to get solved eventually.”
The three witches from the coven of Jupiter got up and made their way toward the door, and we all said our goodbyes before they headed out into the dark night and the only people left in the house were the three Numa sisters.
I made my way back to the kitchen and collapsed in a chair. “Wow, that was definitely not what I thought was going to happen when we went to Western Woods.”
“I know, right?” Andrea laughed. “That was an amazing stroke of luck, coming across those witches. Ellie is amazing.”
“I knew you’d say that. She seems a lot like you. In that you’re both super bossy and think that you’re right about everything.”
“I am always right about everything,” Andrea replied with a laugh, and I stuck my tongue out at her. At least some things hadn’t changed at all since I’d come back to Pacific Cove.
Chapter 13
When I woke up the next morning, I found Ashley in the kitchen, who told me that Andrea had already gone off to work. The bakery meant early starts.
“How are you feeling this morning?” I asked kindly as I made my way to the fridge and poured myself a glass of dragonberry juice. I loved the way the colors of the juice melted together.
Ashley shrugged in reply. “I’m ok right now. But to be honest, I don’t want to go out there. I don’t want to face the world.”
“Take a mental health day,” I suggested. “If you’re not feeling up to it, you shouldn’t have to go to work.”
“I thought about that,” Ashley replied. “But to be honest, I think I’d rather be at work and having to solve problems than sitting at home feeling sorry for myself and believing that everyone thinks I stayed home because I was scared.”
“That makes sense,” I said. “Still, take care of yourself, ok? When you get back, we can go see Mom and Dad.”
Ashley smiled. “I’d like that. I hope they’re doing alright.”
“I’m sure they are,” I said firmly. I refused to believe otherwise.
“Are you and Andrea really going to try and find the person who killed Charles Perkins?” Ashley asked.
“Yes,” I replied. “After all, you said it yourself. People look at us like we’re criminals. And right now, I have zero faith that Chief Enforcer Lupo is someone who can be trusted. After all, look at Mom and Dad, being framed for fraud.”
Ashley nodded. “Ok. I get that. If there’s anything I can do to help, please let me know. As long as it doesn’t involve breaking the law, I’m happy to help, but that’s where I draw the line. I can’t break into someone’s place like Andrea did yesterday, even if the guy was dead.”
“Will do, thanks, Ashley,” I told her. “Maybe get the bank documents Charles had from Andrea, like we spoke about last night? If there’s a way to track down the other ‘investors’ Charles had going, a magical fixer is the best person I can think of to do that.”
“Sure,” Ashley said with a nod. “She texted me copies of the pictures last night. I’ll ask around today and see what I can dig up.”
“Great. I have to go and see one of the employees now. I’ll be back later. Text me if you need anything, Ash. I love you.”
“Love you too, Meg,” my sister replied, blowing me a kiss as I made my way to the front door.
As I left the house, I couldn’t help but look toward the factory. There was a sign placed at the front: ‘Warning: crime scene. Do not enter. Area protected by wards. Unauthorized entry will be prosecuted.’
I shook my head sadly. I was going to have to go and see Chief Enforcer Lupo today and see how long it would be until the factory reopened.
As I headed away from the factory, however, someone was making their way up the road toward it. It was one of the employees that I had met the other day, named Liz, a fairy who answered the phones in the office next to my parents’. She was quite tall for a fairy, and thin, with big, blue eyes that matched the color of her fluttering wings exactly, and a little bit of a ditzy feel to her. After all, there was even a leaf trapped in her long, brown hair.
“Miss Numa,” she called out to me with a wave.
“Please, just call me Megan,” I said with a smile. “What can I do for you, Liz?”
“I was hoping you would know when the factory is going to reopen,” Liz said, looking past me and toward the sign warning people not to come in.
I shrugged sadly. “I wish I had an answer for you, Liz. I’m going to speak with Chief Enforcer Lupo today, and hopefully he’ll give me a good idea as to how much longer we’re going to have to wait.”
“So there’s no work today?” Liz asked, her shoulders slumping slightly.
“I’m sorry. Personally, I would be fine with opening the factory once more, but the Enforcers still have the entire place sealed off.”
“Alright,” Liz said. “Thanks for letting me know.”
“I�
��ll be in touch as soon as I know anything,” I said. “Whereabouts do you live?”
“Oh, I’ve been moving around a lot,” Liz shrugged. “Let me give you my phone number; texting is the easiest way to contact me.”
“Ok, good,” I said with a nod, taking out my own phone and adding her to my contacts list. “I hope to get the factory back up and running as soon as possible.”
“Thanks,” Liz said to me with a smile before turning and heading back toward town. I frowned. I really hated letting people down; it was one of those things that had always bothered me, ever since I was a little girl. But then, there was nothing I could really do about it, was there? The Enforcers had closed off the entire factory, and until they gave me the all clear, I couldn’t do anything about it.
I made my way down the street until I found the house I was looking for. I knew Patricia Osis from the Academy; we had basically grown up together. She was my age, and while she wasn’t necessarily the best witch ever—she was a lot like Andrea in that she put no effort into her studies—I always remembered her for the time she found me crying in the bathroom after some bullies had cast a spell on me that made my face break out into pimples that grew faces and shouted out “nerd!” every time I answered a question in class. After three questions, I had run out of the class crying, and I hadn’t even noticed when I ran into the stall that Patricia was hiding in the bathroom, smoking.
“Honey, what’s wrong?” she had asked, but I didn’t answer. I just cried. After all, Patricia was one of the cool people. She wasn’t a nerd like me, and she would probably just think the pimples were funny. But instead of moving on, she just sat there and waited until I was finished crying, and eventually coaxed me out of the bathroom. As soon as she saw the pimples, she rolled her eyes, told me that one of the Academy’s duel team members had found that spell in the Mars Book of Spells while studying new spells to use, and immediately reversed it for me. Then she hugged me.
It was such a simple gesture, but it stayed with me for years. I hated to admit it, but I had been bullied for a lot of my life as a child, and it was only once I got to Spellford that I really began to feel like I belonged somewhere. Maybe that was why I didn’t come home as often as a lot of the other students did.
Of course, as I made my way toward the small bungalow where Patricia’s parents had lived, I realized that in the years since my time at the Academy, there was a very good chance that Patricia had moved out, or even that her parents had moved. But I wasn’t able to get into the company’s personnel files to get an updated address on her, since the whole factory was still off-limits.
I knocked at the front door all the same and found myself a little bit surprised when Patricia answered herself. She still had the same blonde ringlets as she did back in high school, and the same quiet confidence as well. Yesterday, when I had seen her for the first time in years at the front of the factory, she had been dressed rather professionally, but today she wore a much more casual sweater and jeans that were magically enhanced to change color as the sun hit them.
“Hey, Megan,” Patricia said. If she was surprised to see me at her front doorstep, she was definitely hiding that fact. “What’s going on? Come on in.”
“Thanks,” I said, stepping past her into the entry hall. Looking around, it seemed like she was the only person who lived here. “I know your parents lived here in high school, so I thought I’d check if you were still here as well.”
“I am,” Patricia nodded. “My parents decided to retire to Florida, and they got a small condo in one of the paranormal towns down there. I think they figured I’d never be able to get my own place otherwise, so they left me the house, and I live here now.”
“That’s nice of them,” I said.
“It’s nice, but it’s also a little bit embarrassing when your own parents think you’re never going to be able to afford a place on your own. What can you do?”
“Are you planning on working your way up the ladder at the factory?” I asked. After all, I knew Patricia was one of the lower-level employees, tasked with using magic to load up the boxes quickly and easily. It was basically the easiest magical task at the factory.
Patricia shrugged. “Maybe. I’m not quite sure, really. I don’t mind the work I’m doing now. Do you know when the factory is going to reopen?”
“I wish I did,” I replied. “I’m going to go see Chief Enforcer Lupo today, and hopefully he’ll give me a good idea of when we can reopen.”
Patricia nodded. “Good. I hope your parents get out of jail, too. I know a lot of people think they’re guilty, but they never seemed anything other than completely honest when I worked there.”
“Thank you so much for saying that,” I said, and my heart swelled as I realized Patricia was still just as wonderful a person as she had been back in high school. A part of me wished that we were friends. “Did you hear about Charles Perkins?”
Patricia nodded, her face turning into a scowl. “I did. Honestly, I’m not going to lie and say that I’m grieving. Although I will say I don’t think he deserved to die.”
“I heard the two of you had a bit of a run-in a little while back, at the factory.”
Patricia scoffed. “A little bit of a run-in, right. Whoever told you that has a funny way of describing harassment. I was standing around, working, minding my own business, when Charles came up to me and grabbed my butt. He didn’t ask for permission and we had never been friendly. He just came up and did it.”
I swallowed hard, trying to quell my own feelings on the matter.
“So what did you do?”
“I did exactly what he deserved. I turned around, and I punched him in the face. He started whining, grabbing his nose and complaining that I had hurt him. I told him that if he thought he could touch me without my permission, then obviously it was fine for me to touch him without his permission.”
I burst out laughing, though I also came close to letting a couple of tears drop. Being assaulted by someone you spent a lot of time with was definitely a subject that I was sensitive about, but because I chose to repress that memory—I never told anybody what had happened—I didn’t want to show Patricia just how much her story had affected me. But hearing how she had been assaulted and turned the tables back on Charles made me feel a conflicting mix of emotions.
What if I had managed to do the same thing? Should I have fought back more? Should I have done something more to try and stop it?
I tried to suppress my feelings once more, as I had done so many times in the years since my assault, and focused on the question at hand. Had Patricia killed Charles Perkins?
“So what happened then?” I asked, hoping Patricia would give me a longer version of the story so I didn’t have to speak. I wasn’t entirely sure I trusted my voice right now.
“Well, then he blew up on me, started complaining that I had broken his nose, and all that sort of thing. Of course, a few of the other workers had seen what happened, and some of the other women stepped in between us so that he couldn’t do anything. He eventually went and complained to your parents, and I don’t know what happened after that. Your mom took me aside a few hours later and asked me if I was alright, and I told her I was. She asked if I wanted Charles to be assigned somewhere else so that he wouldn’t have access to me anymore, but I told her that I was pretty sure he had learned his lesson, and to be honest, I didn’t want to be blamed for disrupting the way things were set up.”
“Did he bother you again?”
Patricia grinned. “Didn’t come within twenty feet of me ever again after that. I’d like to think he learned his lesson and didn’t try to get a bit handsy with anyone else, either.”
I nodded. “So I’m guessing you didn’t kill him?”
“Definitely not,” Patricia said.
“Yesterday morning, from five to seven, you were here?”
“That’s right,” Patricia said. “I got up at five thirty, like I always do, and by seven I was eating breakfast, getting rea
dy to head up for work. But you can’t seriously think that I killed him, can you?”
“No, of course not,” I said with of a vehement shake of the head. Regardless of whether that was true, I liked to keep people on my side, to make them think I wasn’t really blaming them. “I just wanted to know, you know? I figure if I have heard about what happened, the Enforcers will find out as well, and they’ll probably be by asking you the same questions. So I’m just giving you a heads-up.”
“Thanks for that,” Patricia said. “I’m sorry for everything that happened to your family. It’s got to be affecting your work at Spellford. You’re studying to become a Healer, right?”
“That’s right,” I nodded. “At least, that was the plan. Who knows what’s happening now? But life isn’t a race, and if I have to take a little bit of time off to take care of my family, then so be it.”
“That’s the right attitude to have,” Patricia said. “Anyway, I’m sure things will work out in the end.”
“I hope so,” I said, standing up and making my way back toward the front door. I said goodbye to Patricia, and as soon as she closed the door behind me, tears began pouring down my face.
Chapter 14
I rushed away from Patricia’s house as fast as I could, not wanting her to catch me crying yet again. But this time, the reason I was crying was significantly more important than a dumb spell cast by teenage wizards trying to bully me.
It had been years since the incident. I never told anyone, because I didn’t want to make a fuss. Instead, I repressed it as best I could. I tried not to think about it. After all, if I forgot it happened, the memory couldn’t hurt me. And besides, it could have been worse. A professor’s assistant I was working with had groped me one night when we worked together in my first year at Spellford, and I had run off. It could have been a lot worse.
But Patricia’s story still brought everything flooding back. The shame. The wish that it hadn’t happened. Wanting to react differently. What if I had punched him in the face? Would I have felt a little bit of satisfaction from it?