by A. M. King
“Okay, little missy, that’s enough,” Febe said gently to her four-legged friend.
“Fine, I’ll let you humans do what you do best,” Ebony purred.
Febe grinned and shook her head. “I wish I knew exactly how to go about doing this now. I don’t want Trey to think I’m overstepping any boundaries. That’s the last thing I’d want him to think.”
“True. And there is more than meets the eyes.”
“That’s it.”
“What’s it?” Aunt Trixie asked, confused.
“There’s more than meets the eyes, but what?” Febe thought for a moment. There were hundreds of people at the site and a few backstage, but there was something else going on. “I wish I could look at that footage again, but I’d need to do some sort of invisibility spell to get back in there.”
“You sure you know what you’re doing, doll?” Ebony said. “Considering you haven’t mastered your spells yet and those suckers only last five minutes, tops.”
“I know.”
Later that morning, when the table was clear after breakfast, the guests gathered in the living room to have a chat. It was surreal, Auntie and Uncle Hoot bickered back and forth and the three ghost aunties who had visited her in her bedroom were chatting about what was happening on the twenty-four hour news station, wondering how on earth people could function in life when they had to keep up with so much information around the clock.
“Too much stimuli,” one ghost said to the other. “No wonder they have no time to interact with each other or sit back and watch the sunset. You remember those days?”
“Like it was yesterday,” another ghost auntie said. “Like it was yesterday. We had so few distractions and paid more attention to each other. I was out and about yesterday, you know, and I bumped into a man on the street. He looked terrified. He was into some device in his hand and wasn’t aware of his surroundings,” she said.
“You think it might have something to do with him realizing he’d bumped into a ghost?” Ebony said shaking her head.
“Ebony, be nice,” Febe said stroking her cat who was sitting on her lap. She also had her cell phone out, scrolling down some results in her search engine about the venue where the event was held. She was trying to look at all the exits and entrances.
“Ebony, how would you like to go back to the Macy Auditorium? It should be quiet today. There are no scheduled events.”
Ebony yawned. “Is there a reason you want me with you, doll?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, fine.”
“Where are you headed to?” Janvier said.
“I’m going to see if I can pick up on any energies around the area.”
“Hey, I don’t mind going down there with you.”
“You sure, sis?”
“Trust me, I’d rather be...I mean as much as I love having our guests, I think it would be great to check out the area for, you know, some clues as to what happened.”
“Clues? Did someone say clues?” another ghost asked.
“Oh, no. We’re just doing some puzzle here. It’s for a project I’m working on,” Febe said, trying to improvise. She hated to lie but she didn’t want to alarm any of them. And it wasn’t exactly a lie, now was it? She was trying to solve some puzzle. The mystery puzzle as to what really happened to Tulip Gosnik. She just knew that girl did not choke on her gum. At least not without a little help.
* * *
An hour later, Febe, Janvier and Ebony arrived on the scene at the Macy Auditorium.
“So she was standing over there behind the red velvet curtain?” Janvier asked. “Really?”
“I know, right?” Ebony interjected. “Who in heaven’s name would think of red velvet at a fashion show?”
“Ebony, I don’t think that’s what she meant,” Febe said, playfully rolling her eyes. “We’re very catty this week, aren’t we?”
“If you had to share your kitty basket with a two-hundred year old ghost of a cat, you’d be catty too.”
“Oh no. Ebony, I had no idea. Why didn’t you say something before?”
Ebony shrugged. “You had your own demons to deal with. Or should I say dead relatives with bad manners.”
Febe sighed. “All right, sweetie. Let’s focus now. I’m going to try to use my energies to see if I can feel what really happened back there.”
“Do you want me to try a mirror spell?” Janvier said.
“A mirror spell? What’s that?”
“Oh, it’s one of those advanced spells that cast a mirror to the past so you could see what happened within a twenty-four hour timeframe. Mom used to do it. God, I really miss Mom.” Janvier’s voice was hoarse.
Febe felt a pang of longing in her heart. She wished she could reveal to Janvier that Mom was really all right. But she just couldn’t. In a way, it was as if Mom really was gone because she wasn’t in her own form and couldn’t communicate with her family. How awful that must be for her. They were still not out of the woods yet. If the ether got wind of her presence, they’d all be toast. As dead as the Gosnik sisters. Febe still didn’t believe it was all about chance. She still thought there must be some deep connection.
There were no coincidences in her book. That was what she’d learned in her witching studies. Things only appeared as a coincidence but they often were not.
“I miss Mom too,” Febe said quietly. And she did. She missed having her mom around as in the old times. Not hiding out in disguise, living in isolation away from her loved ones. She missed the good old days.
“Okay, now what was that spell?” Janvier said as she focused her attention on the spot where Tulip was found.
She then whispered an incantation and spread her hands out.
Nothing happened.
Crap.
Janvier tried again. There was the sound of thunder rolling in the distance but nothing happened.
Febe grew discouraged. She wished she could bring her mother there to the scene as Mr. Dawes, but that would be too risky. There was no way. Was she destined to have a case that could not be solved?
Although Trey had asked her a few times if she’d like to join the police force as their special psychic, she’d declined, but deep down she was really contemplating changing her mind in the future. Maybe she could do this.
For one thing, she was eager to get this supernatural killer off the street and into jail where he or she belonged. But she was also eager to help the police solve a crime they did not even consider a crime, and then maybe she could work on their team. She was beginning to feel that advertising was never her calling, maybe solving crime puzzles was. It was deeply rooted in her soul. She felt good being able to get to the bottom of a criminal investigation. This was what she was meant to do. She’d always been the observant type. Analyzing human behaviour. It came natural to her. She always got a thrill out of it.
But as they stood there in the empty auditorium, it didn’t seem likely they were going to get anywhere.
“Maybe I should try another spell.”
“No Janvier. Just a minute,” Febe said walking over the area where Tulip was found. Febe closed her eyes.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m trying to use my witching instinct. My internal compass to guide me to the truth.”
“Are you sure that’s gonna work, doll? Your compass has been a little off lately.” Ebony yawned.
Febe pried open one eye to give her cat a look before closing it again and focusing. Poor Ebony. It could not be easy for her to have that many guests in the house. She was going to try to be understanding. None of them were getting much sleep. They couldn’t wait until the festival was over this coming weekend.
Febe felt a wind circulate around her.
It was working.
She was doing it.
All she had to do was focus. All she had to do was keep her mind clear and her heart open. She allowed the universe to work through her.
“You feel anything yet?” Janvier asked, clearly amaz
ed how her little sister was able to get something going. Considering Febe hadn’t gotten her witching licence yet, she wasn’t doing too badly.
And then...
Nothing.
“What is it? Janvier asked.
“Something is blocking my energies. Oh, no.”
“What?”
“Someone’s here.”
“Here?” Janvier looked around.
“In there. Behind that door.”
Febe walked over to the door, Janvier at her side, Ebony strolling beside her.
“Commanderio open,” Janvier whispered, her eyes narrowed as she eyed the door.
The door flung open.
And there was the Summer Café’s cashier, Bud.
Chapter 8
“What’s going on, Bud? How long were you in there?” Febe asked, stunned beyond belief.
And how much have you heard?
“I’m sorry, I was just hanging out here,” Bud said, looking at the ground. He seemed rather annoyed that Febe and Janvier caught him. But what on earth was he doing in the storage room behind the main stage?
“All by yourself?” Janvier’s arms were folded across her chest. She did not seem the least bit convinced and Febe didn’t blame her.
“Spill it out, Bud. The truth,” Febe said, determined to get to the bottom of this.
While speaking to Bud, she tried to focus on her inner witch. Was she telling her something? A witch’s instinct was everything.
The venue was empty, or at least it should have been. What on earth was he doing there? And at the scene of a possible crime.
Was he there to destroy evidence?
Criminals often returned to the scene of their crime. That was why cops cordoned off the area for a period of time and kept a watch after a crime was committed. However, there were no yellow caution tapes around the area as the police were convinced Tulip died by her own doing—an accidental choking while chewing gum. Well, at least that’s what the records showed. But Febe felt differently and she was burning to get to the bottom of this investigation.
“All right, I came back here because I was devastated about what happened to Tulip.”
Janvier’s eyes narrowed intently on Bud. “Really now? You mean you’re devastated that you killed her and want to make sure you remove any evidence?”
“What? No. No, of course not. Why would I...? The cops said she died by choking on her gum. It was an accident. I had nothing to do with that.”
The hairs on Febe’s skin stood up.
“That’s not all, is it, Bud?” Febe asked.
She’d known Bud for a while now. He’d always been the reliable part-time cashier who had worked at the Summer Café for the longest time. He started off as a summer student, and then Mom hired him as a permanent part-timer while he was saving up to go to college. He’d been working there ever since.
She felt a bit betrayed that he could possibly have something to do with Tulip’s death. But one thing was for sure, she didn’t have any reaction to him in the sense that he was dangerous.
Unless, he’s using a blocking spell.
No. No, I don’t think he is, Febe reasoned with her inner witch.
One thing certain about Bud was that he was human. One hundred percent human. He was not of mixed heritage like being half witch or half warlock or anything like that.
At least Febe didn’t pick up on that.
Febe knew that humans often showed the world the face they wanted everyone to see. Most, not all. Some just showed who they really were and were okay with that. But what was Bud really about? How well did they really know him? He only worked part time at the café, didn’t he? What he did with his spare time was none of their concern. Or was it? Actually, if it involved any nefarious type of activities it would be their concern.
“You’re right, Febe. I didn’t want anyone to know about Tulip and me.”
“About Tulip and you? You mean you two were an item?” Febe asked incredulously. She didn’t think they could be a couple, but then again, there’d been lots of unexpected matches in the tabloids lately. Love had no boundaries.
She herself was in love with a human who had no idea she was really a witch. Talk about odd pairings. Not that she was seriously thinking of dating Trey right now, because that would so not work out. She could see how much her family would meddle in their affairs. And what if Trey found out about her special abilities and her magical bloodline?
“We were an item,” Bud said, biting down on his lowing lip and looking off into the distance. She could see raw hurt glittering in his eyes. “We broke up.”
“Oh no, Bud. I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It’s okay.”
“You mean you broke up before or after you killed her?” Janvier said, her arms still folded tightly across her chest.
“Janvier!”
“What?”
“I said I had nothing to do with her death. I swear. It was an accident. I wasn’t even near her at the time.”
“Oh, not that’s just not true, Bud. You were near Tulip. I...um...I happened to have seen you near her.” From the surveillance security tapes. But you don’t have to know about that part.
“I told her last week that it was over, all right?” Emotion climbed into his voice. “She didn’t take it too well.”
“Why did you two break up? If you don’t mind telling me,” Janvier said.
“I didn’t fit into her perfect little world. She’s from a rich background. Her folks own the local rag, right?”
“The Gosnik Newspaper,” Febe corrected him.
“Yeah, well, anyway, we went out a few times. We had a good time. She liked me, but I think she was more rebelling. She was told to marry up and work in the family business and everything and she didn’t want any of it. Anyway, I knew we weren’t a fit and I just didn’t want to be used like that. I wanted a future. Someone who wanted me for me. She had a lot of issues and I don’t think she was serious about us. So I broke it off and she didn’t take it too well. I realize I shouldn’t have done it over the phone so I came here in person to see her to sort of make it better. Maybe see if we could be friends.”
“Then what happened after that?”
“She started getting all funny. She was talking with her boss, Bruce. They had an argument.”
“They did?” Febe’s eyes widened. She knew Bruce must have had something to do with it.
“Yeah, I don’t know what it was about. I walked off and before you know it, I heard your voice scream out. That’s when I saw her on the ground and you standing over her. If anyone should look guilty, it’s you, Febe,” he said.
“How dare you?” Janvier said, standing up for her sister.
“It’s okay, Janvier,” Febe said. “What makes you think I had anything to do with it since it was, as you say, an accident?”
He sighed. “I’m just saying you were here with your cat sitting near the stage. What made you decide to come back stage when it wasn’t your turn yet?”
“That’s true.” It’s called a witch’s intuition. “But you certainly know a lot about the schedule of the fashion show. How did you know I wasn’t scheduled to come up on stage yet?”
He shrugged. “I was helping out with the schedule beforehand. They told me to print up the program.”
Crap. That’s right. Bud was a graphic design major in college. Of course, he was helping out with the programs for the event.
“Okay, fine.”
But that was one heck of a memory.
“I’m sorry about what happened between you two,” Febe said before he left.
“No worries.” He then took off toward the exit door and left.
“So, Sherlock, any idea as to what to do next?” Ebony said.
Febe was sure Ebony was dying to speak while she was interrogating Bud, even though it would have sounded like a cat’s meow to him, but she’d been warned about talking to Febe in public or in front of non-suspecting humans, especially after that fiasco
at the fashion show.
“I think he’s telling the truth,” Febe said.
“I don’t trust him,” Janvier said, her lips thinned.
“What we need to do is speak to Bruce at the newspaper. I think he’s got a story we need to hear.”
Chapter 9
The following day, Febe walked up to the steps of the Gosnik Newspaper. It was early Monday morning, a busy time for the newspaper and most businesses. She was hesitant about coming in at that time, but it was now or never. The entire staff would be gathered by now, discussing the unfortunate incident on the weekend of Tulip Gosnik choking on her own gum.
The flag was at half mast, which was not surprising.
The security guard out front looked solemn.
“Good morning,” Febe said.
“Morning Miss Summer.”
It was so nice to be greeted by name.
“So sad about Tulip, isn’t it?” Febe said.
The security guard gave her a strange look. Didn’t he know? He must have heard that Tulip died over the weekend at the Kitty Fashion Show.
“Is something wrong?” Febe asked.
“Well, yes. The police will be here shortly.”
Just then Febe turned around and heard sirens. It was an ambulance followed by police.
“What’s going on?”
“It’s Bruce, the editor. He’s dead.”
“Dead?” Febe felt her breath stop. “Dead? But how...when...?”
The commotion happened instantly. Moments later, they’d wheeled out a stretcher with Bruce’s body, covered in a blanket.
What the heck is going on?
Two members of the Gosnik Newspaper dead within forty-eight hours? Unbelievable. This was not a coincidence.
The hairs on Febe’s skin stood up as she entered the office area.
She saw Samantha the receptionist sobbing outside his office door. “I tried to do CPR, but it was too late.”
“What happened, Samantha?”