Be Witched

by L. L. Muir

  “So,” he said, “now that I’ve recovered from the initial shock of learning you are not, in fact, a con artist, tell me. Did Whittaker kill his wife?”

  “I don’t know. He’s pretty destroyed by it. Hopeless. He obviously loves his kids, but he still loved his wife. I’m guessing the only thing that would cause those emotions is the realization that all hope is gone, that she won’t be coming back to him.”

  “And his mother is his alibi.”

  “Right.”

  “Okay. We’ll stick a maybe pin in that one and move on to the next.”

  Maddy resisted the urge to rub her hands together. “You have another suspect? Besides me, I mean.”

  He looked at her sideways and shook his head. “You’ve moved into the probably not column.”

  “Oh. Well. Thank you so much.”

  “That’s where all suspects have to wait it out until I’ve identified the murderer.” He gave her a nervous glance. “Now that I’ve offended you… I don’t suppose you’d like to explain this gift of yours, would you?”

  “It’s called Empathy. I can read emotions from people, obviously. Sometimes I get a picture from their mind, like when I touched little Millicent back there. That’s how I knew David was the guilty party, and that he’d stuffed Lamby under the seat. Poor thing didn’t have the words to explain what she needed.”

  “That’s pretty handy. Can you do anything else?”

  She considered lying, then thought what the heck? He already knew more than he should, anyway. So the chance they might need to move again seemed to increase with every conversation they had. Besides, it was slightly liberating to actually tell someone.

  “Well, being empathetic doesn’t strictly explain what I do.” She took a deep breath. “I can also read the emotions left behind on objects.”

  He looked dubious. “Like what?”

  She glanced around the interior, looked him over, and reached over to pull a pen from his pocket. “This should be safe enough.” She held it up against her bare face and was immediately overwhelmed again, but this time, it wasn’t by sorrow. Whoever had imprinted on the sleek silver surface had been…in love? She couldn’t believe such strong feelings were coming from the guy sitting beside her, but just in case those feelings were aimed at her, she thought she’d better hold on for more data.

  Just as she’d hoped, she got a flash of an image—a very sexy image of a shirtless man and a woman in a long dress. It surprised a laugh right out of her. With her gloved hand, she held the pen out to him like a stinky diaper. “Mister Darro?”

  “Yeah?” He split his attention between her and the road, as if preparing to hit the brakes.

  “Do you by any chance read romance novels about Regency England?”

  11

  When Tripp dropped her off at home, he asked Maddy if she would go with him to Spirit Falls the next morning to question Monica Whittaker’s staff again. He hoped that, with her along, he might learn more than he had before.

  “The only recent calls on her known cell phone were business calls, and we haven’t found an account for another one. I have no other leads to follow at this point.” He looked up at her from the bottom step with his lower lip protruding slightly, like a little boy who didn’t want to come in for supper. “Please?”

  Maddy checked the time on her phone and did the math. “Sorry. I’m tied up until two.”

  He held up his hands in surrender. “Two it is. I’ll call ahead and make sure everyone is on hand.” He looked far too pleased with himself as he backed away, so she thought she’d better splash a little cold water in his face.

  “Fine. But I’ll meet you there. Text me the address.”

  He nodded. “That’s fine.”

  “And Barney?”

  He rolled his eyes and waited.

  “I can’t promise which one of me you’ll get.”

  He nodded and kept backing toward his car, not even phased by her warning. Then he gave a little salute and left.

  What was wrong with him?

  Mac couldn’t wait to hear every little detail of Maddy’s date with the hot deputy, and she stood by the mirror for a good ten minutes before she realized her sister had done it again. She’d gone up to have a bath without even poking her head in to say she was back. So Mac did what she’d promised never to do and willed her reflection into the vanity mirror overlooking the tub. But first, she put her hand over her eyes.

  “I know I promised never to do this,” she said quickly, “but you didn’t really think I should wait to hear what happened, did you? I mean... Maddy? Are you there?”

  There was a loud whooshing sound, and she waited with her eyes still covered.

  “I was underwater,” Maddy said casually. “Hi.”

  Hi? Was she kidding? Her sister had just caught Mac breaking one of their unbreakable rules—like never letting a cop in the house—and all she said was hi?

  She took her hand from her eyes. “What’s wrong?” From what she could see above the meringue-like bubbles, her sister was dabbing water from her face with a small towel, then leaning back to enjoy the rest of her bath.

  “Nothing’s wrong.”

  “He kissed you!” At least she hoped he’d kissed her.

  “No. He didn’t. Can we talk about this later?”

  It was a small favor to ask after Mac had invaded her privacy, so how could she say no?

  “No.”

  Maddy laughed. “I should have expected that.”

  “Not really. I’m supposed to see the future, not you.”

  “Wanna trade?”

  It was something they asked each other all the time when their own gifts were overwhelming.

  “Sure. I’ll trade. After you tell me what happened.”

  It was a week for firsts, that was for sure. The first time for a smattering of rules to be broken, the first date either of them had had since college, and the first time either of them had used their gift in public—and not with a customer.

  And a man at that!

  Women were a different race. They saw miracles every day, really. No one could watch a child come into the world and survive its first eighteen years without seeing a lot of miracles along the way. So when women came face to face with paranormal activity, it didn’t seem so impossible in comparison.

  Men, however, usually couldn’t handle it. From what Maddy said, though, it seemed like good ol’ Barney Fife had done pretty well. He even wanted to see “them” again, even though it was work-related.

  “That’s great,” she told Maddy, when her sister had finished recapping her adventure. “I bet you can figure out who the killer is before he can. Easy.”

  Maddy shook her wet head. “Oh, no. tomorrow is your turn. I’ve had enough emotion shoved down my throat for a while. You go play Junior Sleuth. I’m sure you can even...get him to kiss you.” Maddy started sinking under the water again.

  Mac laughed. “Oh, no you don’t!”

  Maddy sighed and scooted up again. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for him to see just one of us. He’ll get, you know, attached, and we’ll never get rid of him. We’ll end up moving away and leaving our perfect little house. It will be awful.” She looked up at Mac and gave her that look that begged her to peek into the future and tell her what she saw.

  Trouble was, she’d already seen enough.

  “It will be fine. We’ll still be here a decade from now,” she lied. “Does that help?”

  Begrudgingly, her sister nodded.

  “Okay. See you at ten.”

  “See you at ten.”

  Mac relaxed and was immediately back in the big mirror where she belonged. She sat on the bed, stretched out, and closed her eyes. The little mirror trick had cost her a lot of energy, and if she was going to have any fun tonight, she would be better off sleeping until Maddy came to relieve her.

  It always created a bone-deep satisfaction when the visions she’d been given were played out just as she’d seen them. Oh, it was n
ice to know that the future could change from time to time. But seeing her gift of probability work properly was kind of like firing a gun and hitting a bullseye.

  12

  After a long night of tossing and turning, Maddy tried to talk her sister into keeping the appointment with Darro. But Mac insisted she was too tired to play county cop. She claimed to have stayed up all night, too, and considering the new paint job in the upstairs bathroom, she had plenty of proof that she had. Then she claimed she couldn’t sleep because she was too pleased with herself. So, when it was time for one of them to head to Spirit Falls, Mac demanded her turn to slip into the mirror so she could finally get some rest.

  Maddy knew it had all been planned, but she couldn’t argue with the dark circles under her sister’s eyes. And in the end, she admitted only to herself that she was kind of glad to go. It wasn’t that she was falling for the tall deputy. It was the possibility of catching a criminal that lured her to the biggest city in Falls County.

  Like before, he was leaning against his truck in the parking lot when she pulled in. She parked in a different row just to be contrary. He was there to open her door.

  “Hello, Trouble.”

  “Hello, Barney.”

  “You know, it might be growing on me?”

  “Aw, don’t take the fun out of it.”

  His fingers brushed hers accidentally as they headed for the entrance. They both were quick to stuff their hands in their pockets.

  “You can’t hold my hand while we’re on duty,” he teased.

  “You’re on duty. I just happen to be going into the same building, that’s all. Try to remember that for your report.” Inwardly, she grimaced. Why couldn’t she have said something clever?

  They walked into the offices of Newbold & Turner and Maddy was hit by a wave of tension so dense, she didn’t need to take her gloves off to feel it. After a quick glance at Tripp, she knew he felt it too.

  He turned slightly, leaned toward her, then spoke low. “How would you like to handle this?”

  “Me?”

  “Yeah. I’ve already talked to everyone. I thought you could observe them today. Should we take them one at a time or all together?”

  “All together. Definitely. I like the shows where all the suspects are in the same room and they start ratting each other out.”

  He winked. “So do I.”

  He introduced her to the victim’s assistant, Rhonda, who pretended they’d never met before, but Mac had warned her that this woman had come to Monica Whittaker’s first appointment with her. Tripp asked Rhonda to call everyone into the conference room, then gestured for Maddy to go ahead of him. As she passed, he whispered, “Maddy?”

  She nodded.

  “Excellent.”

  He’d reacted the same way the last time he found out he’d be spending the day with herself and not her sister, and it made her wonder. Did he react the same way to Mac, and this was just his way of flirting with whatever personality happened to show up? Or did he really prefer to be with someone who didn’t want to like him?

  He pulled out a chair for her, but she shook her head. “I prefer to move around, if that’s okay.” He nodded and tried to move aside, but she stopped him with a touch on his arm. “I’m beginning to think you don’t like Mac.”

  “Bite your tongue. I’ll take the whole package.” He gave her another wink.

  She couldn’t resist setting him straight. “No. Actually, you won’t.”

  He just kind of shrugged as if to say “we’ll see.”

  Tripp stopped teasing Maddy when people began filing into the room. Since he didn’t want to have to explain who she was to the rest of the office, he simply pretended she wasn’t there. Once everyone was settled, he moved close to the head of the oval table and sat on the edge. He only had to turn slightly to face them all.

  His secret weapon leaned against a high counter along the back wall, examining her nails and looking like a bored tag-a-long who wasn’t interested in what was going on.

  “I appreciate you all sticking around to talk to me again,” he said. “Turns out you were holding back on me yesterday.” He looked around the room to make sure everyone knew they were included.

  Rhonda gasped when his gaze got to her. “How did you know?” Then she glanced in Maddy’s direction. It was then he remembered the two had met before. But hopefully, the younger woman would keep that information to herself.

  Loftus, dressed in an expensive brown suit, reached under the table, toward Rhonda, who jumped like she’d been pinched.

  “Does it matter?” Tripp couldn’t resist glancing at Maddy, but he quickly looked away, hoping the others would ignore her too. “So, who wants to start?”

  Loftus reached toward Rhonda again, but she was wary enough to pull her arm away.

  Tripp nodded to him. “Okay, Loftus, that’s as good as volunteering. Go ahead and tell us how this all started.”

  He folded his arms and lifted his nose in the air. “How what started?”

  “I’ll tell you.” A man in his late fifties, early sixties sat at the far end of the table. He hadn’t been there the previous morning, and there was only one name Tripp hadn’t been able to check off his list.

  “Thank you, Mr. Turner, is it?”

  The man nodded. “As I understand it,” he gave the entire room the stink-eye. “Whoever he was left a phone on her desk.”

  Tripp pulled out his notebook. “And how long ago was this?”

  Maddy seemed amused that his tactic was paying off and gave him a little quick eye-bulge when he glanced her way.

  “Three months ago? Just after the company party at Sinclair’s lake house. So, the end of June.” Turner gestured around the room. “These people know more than I do.”

  “It was all text messages,” one of the secretaries said, then pointed to Rhonda. “She read all of them. She’ll tell you.”

  Rhonda’s eyes widened, like someone had just accused her of the murder. “I... I...” She was a ball of nerves, and Tripp suspected she’d turn into a weepy mess like the day before if he didn’t get her to settle down fast.

  “It’s okay, Ms. Thorne. I understand why you didn’t want to tell me about it before. But you’re going to tell me all about it now, aren’t you?”

  Her shoulders sagged and she nodded. When she reached for the box of tissues, he stretched over and slid it out of reach. She took the hint and sat up a little straighter.

  “The phone just showed up on her desk one day while we were all out to lunch. There was a message on it. A creepy one, saying he loved what she’d worn at the lake.”

  “Any mention of the company party?”

  “No. But, except for the party, she hadn’t been out to the lake for a long time. I told her to drop the phone in the trash, but the fact that it was a burner phone intrigued her. I think, whoever he was, he knew it would intrigue her. In fact, he knew her so well... Never mind.”

  Tripp waited, but Rhonda was biting her lips together and eyeing the tissue box, so he would let that little nugget rest for a while. Hopefully, it would fester and she’d want to get it out when others weren’t listening. But just in case, he wrote in his notebook, knew her so well he…followed by a big question mark. But he wasn’t about to let the assistant completely off the hook.

  He rested the notebook on his knee and looked at her again. “So. She answered the text...”

  “She did. And he answered back. She giggled all the time. He knew how to make her laugh. He knew what she wanted to hear. It was all too good to be true and she knew it, but she couldn’t stop.”

  Loftus sat forward. “It’s like he knew it was driving her crazy, not knowing who he was, and he just kept teasing her.”

  Ray Christensen, a paralegal, leaned forward. “He knew her well, that’s for sure. One day...” He shook his head and covered the bottom half of his face with one hand.

  Tripp prodded. “One day?”

  The guy exchanged a look with Brian Newbold, the
other senior partner, who was happy to finish for him. “One day, she came to work in her pajamas.” He looked fairly outraged, like he’d taken it personally. Then he tossed a pen onto the table and let it roll off the edge without trying to stop it. “Pajamas. On purpose. Happy as you please. Because he asked her to.”

  Loftus shrugged. “Or she.”

  Rhonda’s eyes flew wide again, then she sat back in her chair and bit her lips together again. But her imagination was clearly going wild.

  Tripp chanced another glance at Maddy. She pushed away from the counter and started strolling around the room, one arm folded across her, the free hand holding her chin, like she was listening, not just staring at the floor as she paced.

  Tripp jotted pj’s in his notebook, followed by not so ambitious now? Then he looked around the table of faces again. “So, this stalker. Did she ever agree to meet him?”

  Rhonda shook her head. “Not until last weekend.” She shot a nervous glance at Maddy, then looked at her hands. Obviously, she knew that M. Muir had warned her boss about the weekend she had planned. And if Rhonda was the murderer, she would worry what else Maddy might know.

  He made a note to have Rhonda followed, just in case. As for protecting M. Muir, he would see if he could manage that on his own.

  He stood up and walked around the perimeter until he stood between the two women. He knew Maddy was in no danger there in a crowded room, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. Then he addressed the others. “Anything else this stalker made her do?”

  Sinclair, another older lawyer, though not a partner, sat on the opposite side of the table trying to ignore the conversation by scrolling through his phone. Tripp knocked on the heavy wood to get his attention. “Sir?”

  “I’m sorry. Did you say something?”

  “You own a house on the lake?”

  Sinclair glanced at his phone one more time, then lowered it out of sight. “Of course.”

  “Will you give permission for me to look around?”