Nick Paderson walked into 272 wearing a pair of dirty jeans and a tan camo tee shirt. Millie’s brother stood 6’2” with a decent build and short buzzed blond hair: a good-looking man in his mid-twenties.
“Smells so good in here.” Nick smelled the bacon in the air.
“Yes, please help yourself, Nick. Thank you so much for coming.” Becca greeted Nick, hugging him tightly.
Mac followed Nick into the kitchen. “Hey Nick! What’s up?”
“Hey!” Nick smiled. He filled his plate with more eggs, bacon, and toast than one plate could handle.
“Nick, I was wondering if you could use your skills to spy on Mary and Jeff’s house down on the next block?” Becca didn’t mince words or explain. She just came out with it.
“What for? They dealing drugs or something? Call the cops!” Nick chomped on his first of probably many strips of bacon.
“It is not that simple. We think they may be in danger from a group of thieves called the Bucs. I almost caught them about six years back.” Mac said. “GPD got a tip that they might be robbing Swedish Days today and Millie and I have reason to believe they are forcing magic users like Mary and Jeff to help them. We just don’t have proof and could use your help, Nick.”
“Whoa. Okay. How exactly do you want me to help?”
Mac didn’t have the answer. He looked to Becca, keenly interested in her answer.
“Well, you know how you use your transfiguration magic to go hunting? Could you maybe turn into a squirrel or something and see if you can get in or on the house? Just to see if you can find anything out?”
Mac’s jaw dropped. Nick could transform into other animals?
“Mom. I don’t really like to use it that much… but… I guess I could.” Nick kept eating.
“Wait just a second, Nick, you can turn into squirrels and shit? Sorry Becca, for swearing.” Mac sat next to Nick at the table.
“Ha! Yes, well I turn into deer and ducks to steer them my way or towards my hunting buddies. It works pretty well. That’s the only time I really find any use for it, though.”
“This family is insane—” Mac stared at Nick’s gluttonous plate of food.
“Excuse me Mac?” Becca asked.
“—ly awesome! Amazing! I mean to say.” Mac laughed.
“Nice. Good cover, Mac. Nick hurry up and eat. You need to get down there,” Becca said.
Nick walked into the front hall. “Okay open the door for me, please.”
Nick shut his eyes and focused his energy inward. He imagined a simple brown and orange bird, a robin. A species prevalent in this part of the Midwestern region of the United States. He flapped his arms in an attempt to mimic the movement he would need in a few short seconds.
“Go!” Nick said. The front hall turned into a vast cathedral. He floated and hovered the air, steadily climbing, until he nearly hit the chandelier. If he could swear from the shock of almost hitting his head on the hanging lamp, he would have.
He felt the hot air from the outside under his wings. Becca opened the door for him as requested and he flew up and out of 272. He made his way to down Witchhazel Drive then angled his wings left to Middle Road: Mary and Jeff’s street.
The hot air didn’t feel the best for his feathery disposition, but a breeze did help. Nick looked down at the rooftops of the nice roofs in his parent’s subdivision. The Fratelli’s needed a new roof soon, one more windy storm would peel off enough shingles to prompt the repair.
As thrilling the transition to flight was, Nick knew he had a mission to complete. The gray siding and white trim of Mary and Jeff’s quickly approached; Nick knew he had to control his speed on the dive to the house because the whole ‘birds can’t see glass’ thing was real. Even though Nick knew glass windows existed, his newfound instincts could override and betray his human knowledge from time to time.
Easy does it. Nick spread his wings wide and slowed his dive. Time to get close and not slam into the damn glass.
Too late. He hit the front left window and fell straight down onto a bush in front of the house. He almost transitioned back into a full human, but forced himself to calm his nerves. He filled his tiny bird lungs with enough air to handle the pain shooting through his bird body.
He lay flat on top of the evergreen bush and looked toward the window he’d smacked into. A finger lifted a section of the blinds that covered the window. Someone was in there.
That was a good start. Now he had to figure out a way to get in.
Chapter Thirty
Nick the robin flapped some pine needles off his wings and used the momentum of his hollow bones and feathers to lift himself from the bush. There had be to a better way to see what was going on inside other than risking wing and beak to look through the glass panes he knew were there, but couldn’t actually see.
Most of the homes in his parent’s subdivision had fireplaces. He would work his way inside the house by going down the chimney like jolly old St. Nick. Perfect. Nick flew up to the rooftop. The shingles were a typical dark gray, nothing spectacular. He landed on one of the shingles and looked around. Walking as a bird proved trickier than flying and he felt a bit unbalanced, still wanting to put his head up and his back straight like a bipedal mammal. This didn’t work.
He fell on his back.
Nick quickly rolled back on to his orange feet and almost found himself in a gutter that truly needed a good cleaning from the soggy leaves and dirt caking the sides. Nick leaned forward on his feet and bobbed his head, similar to a velociraptor in the Jurassic films. It helped him walk with much more grace and efficiency.
He looked around for the brick and mortar of the chimney. He realized it was just a few paces ahead of him, near the edge of the roof he currently walked, er, hopped and bobbed around on.
Nick flew up to the top of the chimney. Luckily, it did not have a cover to stop squirrels and birds like him from getting into the house. Finally, something went right. He thought about the best way to get down into the house without making much noise, if that were possible.
Should he float down? Or would the flapping of wings cause too much noise and thus cause him to be summarily found and expelled from the chimney? Climb down with just two tiny, three-pronged feet? He may actually have to transition to another animal to safely descend the chute.
Chipmunk time.
Nick thought about one of his favorite cartoon shows he loved a kid and transformed into a rodent. The transformation didn’t hurt, it just felt a like the proper stretching of muscles. The strangest sensation he felt was the density of the differing bone structures: no longer hollow avian hones, but a regular terrestrial animal skeleton, which bore more weight than a small robin. He felt heavier. Gravity’s pull on him intensified. Nick paused to catch his breath and get a feel for his new body. He hopped off the chimney and ran around the rooftop for a minute to get his bearings. It helped ready him for his descent.
Nick quickly climbed back up the chimney stack and looked down into the black hole—there was a sliver of light near the bottom. Maybe he should float down like the robin and then climb out as the chipmunk? He’d never done anything like this before. It was all new to him. He only used his magical powers to hunt and basically cheat.
He shook his head. He felt like an idiot, but realized it would be better to have the safety of wings and then turn into a chipmunk to hide at the bottom of the chimney if need be.
Nick shook his tiny chipmunk head. His nose itched; he wiggled his nose, then gave it a proper scratch before transitioning back into a robin. Again, he felt the shift in weight and was now much lighter. He jumped down the chimney. He scraped the sides a couple times then spread his wings about halfway down: he still fell fast, but slower than he did previously. He flapped his wings harder. The bottom of the fireplace approached quickly and some old firewood stacked for display, rather than use in the middle of summer, awaited him.
He landed on the firewood stacked neatly in the fireplace. He looked into Mary and J
eff’s house. The room was clear. He could see a large couch on his left and a television on the right. The far end of the room held cabinetry and stainless steel appliances— the kitchen. All this transforming made him even hungrier.
He transitioned to a chipmunk and started his search for any foul play.
Chapter Thirty-One
Millie drove into the parking lot of the Morris shop on Sycamore at the same time as Marie. They both exited their car simultaneously, both on a clear mission. Marie’s hair was wet from the shower she just exited a few minutes before leaving.
“Well, here we go. Thanks again for your help.” Millie said.
“Have any ideas on how to catch this leprechaun of yours? If he even shows.” Marie took her sunglasses off.
“It is two against one. I’m sure we can think of something.”
“I’m glad the garden shop is closed on Sundays. It could get messy in there.” Marie opened the door to the red-brick building for Millie.
“Thanks. We will make it quick.”
“I take it I will have to give the money back, since it was most likely stolen, correct?” Marie asked.
“Yes, but we will get you your essence of hummingbird back, too. I promise.” Millie said.
“That is what you told the leprechaun.”
The pair of witches walked into the Morris Garden and Greenhouse building and down to the corner of the long warehouse. This was where the magical Morris Shop revealed itself to magic users who said the right word, Gaia. Vines grew on the exposed red brick and the long counter revealed itself along with all its mystical wares. Unfortunately, much to Marie’s despair, the place had been trashed. Potions and pre-made elixirs, animal parts, and rare plants were strewn across the floor and behind the counter.
“Who goes there now? Leave me to me gold.” A little and familiar voice sounded from somewhere in the shop.
“Dermot! What are you doing?” Millie yelled.
“I am here for my gold, deary. Very peculiar that I can’t find it in this cursed shop!”
“You need to stop trashing my shop now!” Marie pointed her wand right at Dermot.
He hopped up on the counter and stood with his bulbous belly barely covered by his t-shirt. A smirk formed on his bearded face. “I stop when you tell me where me gold is, love.”
“It is here Dermot. It’s safe and locked up in Marie’s goblin bank. Full disclosure. I am telling you the truth.” Millie didn’t pull her wand, her hands were empty.
“Oh, those dastardly goblin banks. Always the best protection for my many pots of gold. I didn’t think humans used the goblin services. When you failed to show last night, dear Millie, I had to track down the contents of me vault on me own.”
“I figured as much and that is why we thought maybe you would be here. Dermot, where are the other things I borrowed from the vault? The cash bags?” Millie asked.
“Why should I be telling ya that now?”
“We have reason to believe that the cash bags will be used to commit a crime today. If you tell us where the bags are, we will let you have your cash, or sorry, gold back.”
“The cash is not even yours, you nuisance.” Marie kept her wand pointed at the rotund runt.
“Never mind that. Do we have a deal, Dermot?” Millie interjected.
“Hmm, ye humans cause me more trouble…but…I know where the bags are,” Dermot said.
Chapter Thirty-Two
“Keep a close eye on these vendors: Krahams, Tiny Wanderer, All Cocoa Kitchen, Swaddle, and Colonel’s Gourmet Popcorn. Millie handles the Geneva Chamber of Commerce’s accounts and she did some digging for us. Those are the likeliest places to be hit.” Mac wished he could tell his brother more, but that would expose the magical world.
Mac and Millie had to tread carefully.
“Thanks for this. Millie working for the bank does come in handy. I will have my team keep a close watch on those tents and shops. Thanks Mac. Have a good day. I’ve got a ton a work to do. We will be at Swedish Days all day. Headed there now and should be open for business in a few. Will keep you updated.” Vince ended the call.
Mac looked at his watch. Nick had been gone for a while. He called Millie back.
“Yes, Mac. Headed back to Geneva now.”
“So, why do you think they bought up so much essence of hummingbird? You think they will use it to get away?”
“Well, they could do that, but they need someone with magical powers to enact the instant travel magic with the essence of hummingbird. Have you heard from Nick yet?”
“No, we haven’t heard from him yet. I hope he is okay in there. So, they do need magic users to do any sort of magic. That’s good to know.” Mac again paced the Millie’s carpeted floor.
“They could also use the instant travel magic to steal things, which makes me think that’s how they will steal from Swedish Days—with the cash bags.”
“Ah, so they can lace the cash bags with essence of hummingbird and just transport them to a place of their choosing?” Mac scratched the stubble on the side of his face. He peeked out the window, hoping to see Nick.
“That could be how they do it. I am not sure. This will raise all sorts of red flags with the Coven, but if they are controlling the leadership of the Coven in this area, they could totally get away with it. We really need to hear from Nick.”
Nick, once a man and now a chipmunk, worked his way through the seemingly empty house: the family room, the dining room, and into the kitchen. Suddenly, a bevy of smells assaulted his chipmunk nose.
His tiny belly gurgled. He made sure to eat plenty of breakfast, but the caloric expenditure of transforming into other animals took its toll. He was hungry. Still, Nick soldiered on and turned right into a hallway and towards the office where he saw the finger pull down blind.
Nick stopped right outside the closed office door near the font
“Mary. This will be over soon. Tomorrow, you can have your happy life back.” A raspy deep voice said. Lots of smoking probably formed that timber.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this to me.” A woman’s voice, one of authority and certainly not fear.
Nick heard a hissing sound behind him. Fear overtook his tiny heart. He looked back to see the resident black cat perched on the kitchen island.
If Nick could talk, something like ‘oh shit’ would have come out of his mouth.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Another hiss, this time much louder as the green-eyed black cat jumped from the kitchen island and gave chase of the tiny chipmunk named Nick. He scrambled. His tiny rodent feet and nails slipped on the narrow hallways’s hardwood floor. He looked for an escape out of the hallway; his size could work to his advantage if he could find a crack wide enough for him to escape through.
The door to the office. The bottom. The space between the bottom of the door and the floor would do. It simply had to work!
The cat’s agility and speed intimidated Nick. Within seconds, the feline drew within two inches of his fluffy tail. Nick’s tiny heart pumped faster and faster. If he were a human, the sweat from his nerves would have pooled on the ground and caused much slippage.
A paw came crashing down towards Nick Chipmunk’s body. He put his nose and body to the floor and sprang forward into the space between the door and the floor.
The concussive blast of the cat’s paw vibrated the wooden floor just behind him.
With a flourish and a look of abject surprise, followed by a mixture of adulation and relief, Nick made it into the office. Luckily, the humans were too involved in their argument to take any notice whatsoever. Nick scurried along the wall, much like a mouse looking for his hole. He would hide behind the desk and listen in.
“Like I said, this will all will be over soon. I want the money to show up right here on the desk. No messing around. Do you understand me, Mary?”
“I understand. I can’t believe you are doing this. I told you to stay away from us after the last time you did this. Dad even agre
ed with me. We wrote you off, Frank.”
“Exactly, so what do I have to lose now? Listen. I will take my crew and you can use your magic to transport us tonight. Jeff will be just fine. Once we get to where we need to be, I’ll call you with his location. Simple. Why isn’t the money showing up? Aren’t you supposed to say some spell or something?” Frank said.
“I don’t control when the vendors use the damn cash bags. Swedish Days is open now, so I am sure some cash will start coming in soon. But like I said, Frank, those bags are usually used at the end of the day to separate out the Chamber of Commerce’s cut of the profits. The lion’s share will come in tonight. Be patient, you ass.”
“It better. It damn well better. Oh, what do we have here? A few bucks trickling in.” Frank’s voice got louder as he walked to the desk where, apparently, money started appearing. Nick shook his head at the brilliant move. Using instant travel magic to steal money. He may or may not have wished he’d thought of it.
Millie and Mac were right. Frank was a bad guy—and Mary’s brother to boot—who held Jeff hostage while she helped him commit crimes through the use of magic. A big time no-no, but since Mary and Jeff were Coven leaders, they could easily get away with it.
Time to get out of here and back to 272. The hungry and menacing black cat could prove even more troublesome. Nick needed to march right back under the door and face him. Nick hugged the floor and scurried back under the door. The cat waited.
Another nasty hiss.
Nick thought of his dog, Mater. The huge chocolate lab. A hunting dog through and through. He grew multiple sizes bigger and taller and wider than his chipmunk form. He could feel intense spurts of saliva form in his mouth. He growled at the cat, who summarily turned around and ran back into the kitchen.
Nick wagged his tail then quickly transformed into the robin, flying back up the chimney with the intel he needed. He soared through the hot summer’s day and looked forward to eating lunch at his parent’s house.
The Swedish Days Swindle Page 7