by Jill Nojack
Natalie raised her pointer finger and said, “Don’t. Don’t let this man talk his way out of what we all know he did just because he decided not to kill you.” She turned to Lou Frank, moving toward him with conviction. “You committed those murders so many years ago and framed William Stanford, a man who was your friend and was never anything but kind to you!” Her voice shook with emotion and red sparks danced on her fingertips. “And then you paid him back for his kindness by killing him and sealing his body into a statue to hide the evidence.”
“I admit I put him in the statue. My mother helped me by performing a ritual to dissolve his flesh so the statue wouldn’t burst apart from the buildup of gasses as it decayed. She would have done anything for me, even kill him if she had to. But William was already dead by then. The killer gave me a lot of money, laughing the whole time about how the town would see how they liked it when they couldn’t predict how close the lightning would strike.” He suddenly collapsed into the mud, going down to one knee, then both. He pleaded. “Fifty thousand dollars. Do you know how much money that was back then? The boy said he’d stolen it out from under his father’s nose because he was the only one who’d seen where his grandmother had hidden it before she died. It no longer mattered that Lettie’s father forbade her to see me. Finally, a way to get to New York. I didn’t need her. And what would it hurt? My mother and father weren’t death witches like yours were. She couldn’t raise William.”
“What boy?” Natalie demanded.
“The summer boy, the one that the other summer kids humiliated when they stripped him naked and tied him to the water tower in a storm. Gerald Akers. He killed the girl, her boyfriend, and the reporter who put it in the paper, and then he tried to frame William because William was the one who found him. After he killed him, he had to make sure the body wouldn’t be found. His frame wouldn’t work if it was found.” He shook his head. “Like William could have done anything cruel. But I wanted out of this town badly. The money made that possible.”
“You knew Gerald Aker was the killer, but you didn’t say anything when the murders started again?”
“There was a statue out there with a body in it, and Akers wouldn’t hesitate to throw me to the wolves if I said anything. I had easy access to the rope in William’s shed, you know. We were friends. We went fishing all the time.”
His eyes pleaded, looking for her mercy, but she had none to give. He said, “Look, I tried to warn Sean how dangerous it was to sniff around Gerald’s wife, but he didn’t listen. I couldn’t tell him how I knew without implicating myself.”
He sat back in the mud, his long legs splaying out in front. “I’m not a killer, I’m just a voyeur—and even that isn’t my fault. Besides, I’d like to see you have me charged with using magic pictures to spy on people. So let me go. I’ll take off, I’ll go to Paris. I’ll never come back.”
Natalie’s eyes beamed vengeance. “No, I’m not convinced, and even if I was, you’re paying for your part in this. I’ll let the courts decide if you should hang for the murders, but there’s no way I’m letting you walk out of here with your magic intact. You and your mother used your family’s magic to abuse William’s corpse, even if it does turn out you didn’t kill him.” Her voice thickened for a moment, then she swallowed and continued normally. “So now your voyeur days are over.”
She looked to Robert. “As high priest with a warlock who’s abused his magic, you have first right. Do you want to do it or will you pass the right to me?”
Robert’s face was impassive. “Nat, this one is all yours.”
“Don’t touch me, you hag!” the captive shouted. “If you do, you’ll be sorry. You don’t know what you’re messing with.”
Natalie raised her hand like she was making a shadow puppet and brought her bunched fingers together with her thumb. The man’s mouth snapped shut in response. She’d had enough of his protests. His jaw and head moved frantically, and his eyes went wide as he pried at his jaw.
“Hold him down,” she said, looking to the others. They darted toward where Lou sat cross-legged on the ground. Tom seized him by the shoulders and wrestled him into a prone position, knowing what came next. The others grabbed his limbs and held him in place. It didn’t take long to pin him; he was in good shape for an old man, but he was an old man just the same. If his crimes had made him feel powerful, he couldn’t be feeling powerful now.
Natalie placed her left hand at the base of his spine, probing for the magic that had to be there. His eyes burned with anger, but he’d given up struggling. As she probed, not finding it, she wondered if it was—no, he had to have at least a spark. How else could he have set up his paintings to spy on their owners? Was this something else his mother had done for him?
And then, there it was, but not where she’d expected it. She gripped it psychically, pressing against it. It was far too easy, she thought, but then again, he obviously had very little juice to power his enchantments. No wonder the coven had never known about him.
She relaxed as she worked, squeezing the magic out. She gave him a twisted smile. “You want to know the best part of this, Mr. Famous Artist? When the witches of Giles gossip about your magic—and believe me, I’ll make sure there’s gossip—the thing they’ll giggle about the most is—” and here she held up her right hand, with her thumb and forefinger about an inch apart, “how very tiny it was.”
Someone cleared their throat over the sound of the resulting titters. And everyone turned as the newcomer said, “I really don’t know why you feel you have to be so bawdy.”
Everyone turned. Nat’s head snapped from side to side at her friends and then back to where William now stood. How could they know he was there?
She gave a final quick squeeze and the last of the magic Luigi Franconi carried inside him dispersed.
She stood and turned to William, replying, “Yes, well, I’m bawdy, but you’re dead. Shall we take a vote on which one is the more annoying characteristic?” she replied.
Cassie’s voice, hesitant, squeaked behind her, “Ummm…”
When Natalie looked back over her shoulder, only Tom was still watching over Lou Frank where he lay still in the mud. The others were looking right at William.
“. . . should I be able to see him like this?” Cassie finished.
“You can see me?” William asked, his eyes popping wide.
Tom replied for her. “We all can, I think.” He looked from Robert to Gillian and they nodded.
William’s face lit in a broad grin.
Natalie had no idea what was happening. He hadn’t even been able to make her hear him the last time he’d tried to talk to her. What could possibly have empowered him this way? One of her eyebrows lifted in a silent question, and William jumped in to answer.
He shrugged. “I visited my bones and something strange happened. I think I’ve brought them with me.” The statement was flat but weighty. After a pause, he pointed toward their prisoner. “And he didn’t kill me. I don’t think he killed anyone.”
Natalie looked back at Franconi, screwing her eyes up angrily, then turned back to William. “So he says. How do you know this?”
“Because I know who did it. Who framed me with the rope from the boat shed. It was the summer boy with the bad complexion whose family rented the biggest cabin every summer. I can’t even remember his name, it was so long ago. The only other time I’d seen him was when I found him after his friends left him tied to the water tower in the woods. I took him home and called the police and his parents, and they came and got him. He was so silent and scared. He seemed so meek.”
“Akers,” Robert said. “The boy’s name was Gerald Akers.” His head shook back and forth. He looked angry. “It’s just like he told us,” he said, nodding at Franconi. “Akers fooled us all.”
The group exchanged glances. Gillian’s was surprised and sad. Tom looked disappointed.
Behind the group, an ethereal glow burst into life. A low growl split the scene. “You should hav
e paid better attention to whose magic you were removing, you old witch.” She pivoted, startled. William’s head turned when hers did, but his eyes scanned beyond the glow instead of focusing there.
Lou Frank’s specter stood in front of a waiting portal. “I tried to warn you, but you sealed my mouth and sealed my fate. Don’t you remember? My mother brought me to see your mother when I was three. Now who’s a murderer?”
He stepped through the portal and it closed after expanding outward in a flash, leaving only the light of the moon.
“No! No!” She turned and rushed to Lou Frank’s prone body, shoving the others aside and turning him over as she knelt down beside him. His eyes were closed, his face slack. She dropped her head in her hands. “This shouldn’t have happened . . .”
Gillian understood quickly that things had taken a bad turn and she placed her hands on Lou Frank’s chest, ready to help, but Natalie shook her head, letting it drop toward her chest. “No. He’s beyond healing. He’s already through the portal. He’s gone.”
“But Nat . . .”
She sunk to the ground, smearing her immaculate black robe with mud. She was babbling, but she couldn’t stop herself. “My own mother, dabbling in raising the dead after what her father had done? How could she? Why would she?” Natalie took a long breath. “But a child . . . the decision you’d have to make . . .”
Cassie knelt to her. “Calm down, Nat. Take your time and explain to us what just happened here.”
Natalie looked around for something to sit on and settled for a hollow log on the edge of the path. Gillian sat beside her. She tried to rub Nat’s back, but Nat brushed her off. The others stood silent, waiting.
William walked a circle back and forth in the general area where the portal had been—at least in the direction she had looked when the portal appeared—talking to himself.
“I feel like I need to call in Denton now,” Robert said. “If that’s all right, Nat?”
She waved a hand weakly. “Yes, fine. Dr. Don will need to know this is an unnatural death. But I didn’t kill him. I won’t bear that burden. I believe he’s had years of life that never belonged to him. Eavesdropping was just a side effect of what the magic of the paintings did.”
Robert walked a little to the side to place his call, but his posture indicated he was trying to listen to two conversations at once.
“What does that mean, Nat? About the pictures?” Cassie asked. “Because I’ve been near them, like, constantly.”
“My mother. I should have recognized her magic, I’d felt it often enough when she punished me with it. The magic inside that man wasn’t his, it was my mother’s. I didn’t know why at the time, I was very young, but Angelique brought her boy to my mother wrapped in a blanket—she was crying and begging, pleading with her. I wondered how he could sleep with all that noise. I suppose it makes sense now.
My mother took him into the shed. Afterward, Luigi and I sat at the kitchen table drawing together while the adults talked in the parlor in whispers.”
“Are you saying your mother raised him from the dead?” Cassie asked.
Natalie nodded. “But the essence of life always has to come from somewhere. There’s normally a one-to-one sacrifice involved. I think she gave him a jumpstart somehow and then provided him with the means to keep himself going . . . when he gave me the picture he’d drawn—I remember thinking how much I liked it—my mother took it away, and said, ‘You must never again give a drawing to my daughter or I will take back my gift to you.’”
“Oh my,” Gillian said.
“Yes,” Natalie agreed. “Oh my, indeed.”
Gillian stood up and went to Robert, who’d finished his call. He put his arm around her. “Do you think there’s any danger to the baby?” she asked quietly.
“I think the paintings drained the people near them at a very low rate to keep him going. He’ll have hundreds and hundreds of paintings scattered around the world now, all of them drawing at once. Cassie, you never felt any differently around them—weak or woozy—did you?”
“Not really. I don’t think so. In fact, I’ve been feeling pretty powered up, actually.”
“Good. I don’t think there will be any long-term consequences. I never knew my mother to be malicious, only sometimes misguided. I suppose that’s why he became an artist, to make sure that his drawings and paintings were always hanging somewhere where people congregate.”
Tom cleared his throat. “So, to get back to the practical side of things—what’s our story on this? Denton will be here any minute.”
Robert stepped in. His political side always had a cover story ready. “We were going night fishing. We found him hiding under the boat, and when he tried to escape, he drowned. Tom dove after him to try to save him, but he couldn’t find him in time. Doc Don’s already prepped.”
“What? All of us? In that small boat?” Gillian asked.
“No, only Tom and I. You ladies were up at the house and decided to come down to the shore to have a campfire while you waited for us. That’s when you found out about it.”
“You’ll need gear to pull that one off, won’t you?” Natalie said.
Robert nodded. “I’ll hustle up to the house.”
“No need.”
Natalie opened her purse, reached inside, and grasped a rod complete with reel. She kept pulling, passing the end to Tom, who backed away with it, finally ending up with a full-length fishing pole.
Robert took it from him. “This is my favorite rod,” he said, looking at her for an explanation.
“I can only shoplift them. I can’t create them out of nothing. It’s a good thing we’re close enough to your property that I can get a hold of them.”
Once Tom had his own pole and had taken a dip in the lake, they drenched Lou Frank’s body. Natalie handed Gillian one of Robert’s better bottles of wine and three paper cups, saying, “It’s up to us to go after Akers now. There’s no one left except for the ghost of one of his victims to point Denton in the right direction.” She cocked her head toward William, who was squatting next to where the portal had been, a puzzled expression on his face. “I doubt the chief would buy it if I suddenly remember who my attacker was.”
Robert took a long breath. “Technically, Nat, based on the separation between choir and state we’ve always maintained, this isn’t your business now. It goes to the police. It’s up to them to get what they need to arrest Akers. There was no magic involved in these crimes.”
“If they had anything, they would have pulled him in already.” She turned and called to William. “And you . . . stop frittering around and make yourself scarce. Denton will be of no use to anyone if he can’t continue to pretend that nothing other than normal life and normal crimes ever occur in Giles. We don’t need him running around blaming voodoo and ghosties for every strange occurrence.”
William moved to her and reached for her fingertips as he said goodbye. She gasped as he held them; his hand was warm and solid. And then he was gone.
***
“I can’t say I’m pleased with how it happened, but I’m glad to see the back of him,” Natalie said as the ambulance crew wheeled Lou Frank’s body away through the woods toward the road. There would be time for her to think about her role in his demise later. She didn’t have time to carry that weight along with her just now. “But I don’t accept that it’s only up to Denton from here. The crime may not have been magical, but it impacted a large number of Giles’s magical residents—from Cassie, to me, to our newest budding witch, that Twiniqua or Teeniguo person.”
Cassie sounded irritated. “Nat! It’s Taniqua, and she goes by Twink, which I’m pretty sure you already know and can pronounce just fine.”
“Yes, well, it’s a silly name. Whoever she is, she’ll need teaching. My point is that anyone who causes harm to the witches of this town must answer to me, and I don’t care what our unofficial relationship to the town leadership has always been. It’s a foolish rule to keep, given that the may
or is also our high priest. Separation of coven and state? Hmph.” She stared Robert down. “What you know obviously impacts how you handle the town.”
When Natalie released his eyes, she started walking up the path toward Robert’s home, and the others followed her.
Gillian took Robert’s hand as she told him, “I’m going to have to agree with Natalie on this one. Since the day Tom first brought me here from England, I’ve loved this town and its coven. Anyone who tries to harm it will also have to answer to me.”
Cassie grinned as she fell in step behind. “Me too. I’m in.”
Natalie smiled approvingly, taking her own place in the loose clump of hikers. “We’re agreed then. I’ll make sure that Denton finds what he needs to take Akers out of circulation. That’s our first order of business. However, I doubt he’ll believe that I suddenly remember seeing who attacked me. We’ll need something far more creative than that.
And after that’s taken care of, we’ll need to figure out what to do with that young man Marcus when he’s released. He knows that there’s something different about his friend Twink; he’s a smart one. And I may also have given him a hint on that score. It’s only a matter of time before he accepts what he thinks is happening as the truth. And, of course, when we tell Twink what she is, she’ll likely blurt it out to him anyway.”
Cassie put a hand on Natalie’s shoulder as she walked beside her for a moment. “Daria doesn’t know yet if she wants to tell her. I’m still waiting on a decision. Nobody is going to be telling him anything right away.”
“It doesn’t matter. Either way, we need to keep him close to assure he doesn’t do anything unwise with what he knows or what he thinks he knows. That might be more complicated than making sure Denton catches a killer; we don’t want to interfere with the boy unduly. I find that I quite like him, which doesn’t help Denton any in my eyes. The last time I spoke to Marcus, he was going to be sent back to a group home because his foster mother doesn’t want to keep a child who keeps getting pulled in for questioning. From what he told me about that group home, it’s not a suitable place for him.”