Death by Séance

by Jo-Ann Carson

  Did the locket hold secrets?

  I turned it in my hand. Made of antique brass, a compass was engraved on the top, accented with a tiny sparrow design. It hung from a long brass chain with a lobster clasp. The detailed design had been carefully etched. A woman or a man could wear this necklace, but the heft of it made me think it belonged to a man.

  While it didn’t feel warm or cold to the touch, my witchy senses felt uncomfortable holding it. Was it charmed?

  I rubbed my thumb over the top. I didn’t think so. It didn’t speak to me the way charmed objects did. I pulled it to my heart chakra and got a jolt. Not fear, exactly, but something close to it. It felt forbidden. That was the word, forbidden; as in, I had no right to be holding it; as in, it belonged to another.

  But who?

  I had tried to open it the first night, and it had been too stiff. Did I dare use magic on it? It would leave traces of energy that other supernaturals could see. I could try to cloak my spell, but that didn’t always work, especially against powerful supes. If Maximo and his gang were involved, it could belong to one of them. I didn’t want them to come a-calling.

  In my home where my children slept.

  I put it on my bed. To open, or not to open? That was the question.

  The sound of something large crashing down my stairway stopped all my thoughts.

  Chapter 16

  The Missing Suspect

  “It is our choices … that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.”

  Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets

  At the bottom of the stairs lay Jonathan in his Batman pajamas, crying. Blood flowed down his face. “I thought I could do it,” he wailed. I gathered him in my arms and rocked him. Moments like this made me wish he fell more. The veneer of being grown up cast aside, he was my little boy again. I brushed the blood away to see a cut across his forehead. I banged the floor with my fist and declared it a bad floor and he giggled.

  Jill rose from the sofa bleary eyed. Her multi-colored hair stuck out in all directions, giving bed-head a creative edge. “Should I get the van started?”

  I shook my head. “Coffee.”

  An hour later the kids were playing outside with Shreddie, our puppy, and I sat with Jill. “If Jonathon doesn’t kill himself before he grows up, he’s going to be a great guy,” she said.

  I laughed. “My thoughts exactly. It’s damn hard to be a little boy.”

  We cleaned up the breakfast clutter together and she headed for a shower while I watched the kids play. They were throwing an old tennis ball for Shreddie who would fetch it and then run away. An interesting game of retrieve. As the dog darted this way and that they would slide and fall and laugh. The bright morning sun glowed on their fresh young faces. If I could capture a moment in my heart to live forever, this would be it. So perfect. I sighed.

  But my life was not made up of perfect moments. Facing Maximo on my own seemed suicidal. Knowing more about the locket on the other hand, would be a solid and safe step forward. Perhaps Azalea or Joy could tell me something about it.

  The front door of the teahouse opened wide for me. The solemn gong of the wall clock in the attic tolled three times. I thought it unusual, because the haunted antique only made sound on occasions of its choosing. So why now?

  A dozen women in red hats chatted in the reception area under the chandelier. The air smelled of cranberry and white-chocolate scones. Azalea sat at a table, in the first room, peering into a tea cup. The second tea room erupted in laughter. It seemed like a normal day in the anything-but-normal teahouse.

  I walked up to the reception desk and waited for Joy.

  As the receptionist, she spent most of her time standing there, directing people, taking reservations and playing Mah Jong on her cell phone in slack times. She did lead people to their tables, so she would drift off every few minutes, but always returned, like a homing pigeon. This was her spot.

  But she wasn’t there.

  An uncomfortable chill in the air niggled at my witchy senses. Something was wrong and every cell in my body seemed to know it. I walked back to the kitchen to talk to Gary, the new cook. Sipping tea, he winked at me as I approached. “Are you tired of the Viking yet?” It was his standard opening line.

  “Not yet. You seen Joy?”

  His face darkened. Usually we chatted and teased one another about our lives, but I had cut to the chase and he felt it. “She grabbed a scone about an hour ago. I haven’t seen her since then. Is something wrong?”

  Now my human as well as my witchy senses blared in my head. I pulled out my phone and called the one person I knew would be most alarmed, Elif.

  It rang ten times. Then a faint voice spoke. “The sun still shines.”

  “Elif, it’s me, Abby. Joy is missing. I’m at the teahouse …”

  “Joy?” His voice grew stronger.

  “Yes.”

  “My Joy?”

  “Yes.” This was all going too slowly. If Maximus had her … Well, if Maximus had her … I didn’t want to go there. I couldn’t go there. “I’m on it. Help me when you can.” I clicked off.

  I ran to Azalea. Having finished a reading, she turned to the woman beside her. “It’s your turn. Pick up your cup,” she began.

  Perspiration beaded on my forehead. “Azalea, I need your help.”

  Her gray eyes widened and she stood. “Excuse me, ladies, it seems I have a problem. Please, enjoy your lunch. I will return.” She tilted her head towards the hallway and I headed that way with her at my heels.

  “Joy is missing.”

  Azalea grasped my elbows and closed her eyes. When she opened them, they looked like the sky on a stormy day. “I can’t believe this. Someone took her from the teahouse. They must be very powerful.”

  I’m not sure when I stopped breathing, but I gasped for a breath. “It could be Maximo. It’s a long story. The vampires have been feuding and according to Elif, Maximo is manipulating events to harm him.”

  “Kumar’s murder?”

  “Possibly. But I have no proof.”

  “I sense great danger?”

  I nodded. “I called Elif, but he hasn’t risen yet.”

  Her slim lips trembled. Joy was the only member of her family that I had met. I’m not sure if she had any others. They were tight, in their own way. “This is not good. We may have a cranky vampire boyfriend fighting with a domineering vampire king. And Joy will be in the middle.”

  Spark nuzzled my shin.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Things are rarely as they seem.”

  Great, now I was getting words of wisdom from a lynx. I glared at her. But she had stopped my rising hysteria. I needed to look at things rationally. Who was the last person to see Joy? Did anyone see her leave? Who would Maximo have sent to fetch her in the daytime? It couldn’t have been a vampire. The sun was out. I closed my eyes for a minute.

  Azalea spoke, “The last time I saw Joy was an hour ago. We chatted at the reception desk, while she ate a scone.”

  “So, the only witnesses would be your patrons.”

  “I’ll ask the ladies in the first tea room,” she said and hurried off.

  It had been an hour since Gary and Azalea saw her. Any witnesses to her abduction would be seated by now. I started with the second room.

  Three hours later, the teahouse closed. I had interviewed thirty-six women. Azalea interviewed twelve. Everyone had noticed Joy, as people always do, but no one saw her leave. No one saw any disturbance. No one noticed a stranger. We had a big fat zero.

  My stomach felt like an empty pit. The sun would set soon. Elif would arrive with a million questions.

  I climbed the stairs to my office and reviewed my interview notes on my lap top. Nothing. Joy had vanished and I didn’t have a clue.

  A second after sunset, Elif appeared in my doorway of my office, filling it with his muscular body. “What the hell happened?” He spoke in growls that made me flinch.

 
I threw up my hands.

  “It has to be Maximo. I will kill him. I need to end this eternal fight.”

  “Wait.”

  “What.” Heavy on the “t.”

  “Forget your fight with Maximo. I beg you to focus on Joy.”

  “This is about Joy.”

  “I don’t want her to be collateral damage.” I shook my head at myself. I sounded like a ridiculous general in an imaginary war. “Not Joy.” A tear slipped down my face and I brushed it away. The last thing I wanted was to look weak in front of a night creature. “She is mortal.”

  “Do not worry. My lover is first on my mind.”

  The house shook as he flew through the door.

  Chapter 17

  The Cavalry

  “I’m leaning towards blind panic myself.” – Rupert Giles (Season Two), Buffy

  I couldn’t sit any longer. I had to do something. I drove to the police station on my way out of town. I had already phoned Zane, but I wanted to see him in person.

  He sat behind his official desk, which looked odd to me. Normally I saw him out and about around town. A couple years ago, when I first came to Sunset Cove, we helped each other deal with a nasty poltergeist. That experience bonded us forever. What I didn’t understand was the weird relationship that developed between him and Spark since then. She immediately went to his side and started purring, while he stroked her neck as if she were a diminutive house cat. Strange things happen in the cove.

  “Sit down,” he said.

  “I just dropped by to see if you heard anything.”

  He shook his head. “Not yet. You know it’s too early for me to open a formal investigation, but I’ve been asking around. No one has seen her.”

  “I’ve phoned around too. Nothing.”

  “Tell me you won’t.”

  “Won’t what?”

  “Chase vampires.”

  As usual he knew more than I expected him to. “Why would I do that?”

  “There’s a rumor a fang-war is brewing. I can’t help but wonder if Elif’s girlfriend’s sudden disappearance is linked to it.”

  “Could be,” I said avoiding his eyes.

  He sat back and shook his head. “Why don’t you bring your kids over to my place for dinner. We’ll do pizza.” He and his wife had one child. Our families got along well.

  “I can’t.”

  His mouth drew a straight line and he leaned forward. “Abby, you can’t get involved with night creatures.”

  I laughed. “Seriously? You’re going to tell me that now?”

  “Your witchy ways are no match for vampire strength and speed. They have no morals, no scruples. They will suck you dry without a thought. Then what will happen to your kids? Think about it.”

  “You think I haven’t thought about that?” A million-kazillion times and a half.

  “Think about it some more. I know you like to help others, but stalking vamps is suicidal.”

  “But we’re talking Joy. I can’t leave her in the clutches of creatures of the night dickering over territory.”

  Zane picked up his pen and clicked it. “Abby, she brought it on herself when she chose to be in a relationship with Elif.” He clicked it again.

  “Yeah, yeah.” I’d thought about that as well, but it’s too easy to blame people for their own misfortunes. “But hell, what woman hasn’t gone for a bad boy at some point in their life? Vamps are the ultimate bad boys. And Elif is the ultimate vamp.”

  “He looks dead to me. I don’t get it.”

  Where should I start? “Just look at his body. What woman wouldn’t be interested?”

  “His skin is so pale. He looks, well, dead.”

  “And the way he moves, all hips and …”

  Zane threw up a hand. “Enough. I don’t I need to hear any more. I get it. The ladies think he’s hot.”

  “More than hot. And not just the ladies.”

  “Yeah, I get that too.”

  “Any new leads on the murder?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Are you suggesting I interview his male lovers?”

  “I don’t know, Zane. I’m at a loss. I’ve run out of breathing suspects of all persuasions.”

  “Which brings us back to the fangers.”

  “Have you talked to Maximo?” Maybe I could just learn from Zane.

  He chuckled. Zane has a wonderful chuckle. It’s so sardonic, you want to put your feet up and spend the day laughing at the world with him. He tapped his pen, again.

  “I don’t think a vampire king would make a move on a Mounty,” I said.

  “Pulling the Mounty card?” He smiled as he leaned towards me. “Maximo lives outside my area and that suits me fine. I’m not looking for him unless I have to.”

  “And what if you have to?”

  “Not letting it go, are you?”

  “Have you talked to Elif?”

  “More than I want to in my lifetime.”

  It was my turn to chuckle.

  “He didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know. He said he would do what he could to solve the murder. I’m not sure what he meant by that.”

  “Did he cry?”

  “Please!”

  I took that as a no. It wouldn’t have been out of place or character for Kumar’s boss and lover to shed a tear. To be honest, I wanted to know if vampires really did have bloody tears. Small of me, I know. It fit along with my speculation about popsicles inserted up the yoohoo. I crossed my legs and sat back.

  Zane’s cop eyes bored into me. “What are you thinking?”

  “We could interview Maximo together.” Why hadn’t I thought of that before. Nothing like a police escort. They have sirens.

  Zane’s sage-brush-green eyes hardened. “I back you up in your dealings with the supernatural. I know you mean well and that’s why I do it. But I draw the line at foreign vampires.”

  “At Maximo.”

  “It’s suicidal to chase him.”

  “But what if he murdered Kumar?”

  “I have no evidence to prove he was anywhere near the teahouse, let alone in it with a knife on the night of the murder. And think about it. Why would a vampire choose to kill someone in this way?”

  “What if he has Joy?”

  “Again, I have no proof and it seems unlikely.”

  “Knowing that he is fighting with Elif is not enough?”

  He shook his head. “She disappeared in daylight. If she had gone missing at night, then yeah, I would find Maximo. But she didn’t.”

  “And it’s not an official investigation yet.”

  He nodded.

  I stood. “Then I have to go on my own.”

  Chapter 18

  The Foreign Blood Sucker

  “I solemnly swear I am up to no good.” Harry Potter, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

  I’m medium-shy. I’m not a wallflower. Nor am I a charismatic showgirl. I hover in the middle. Meeting new people doesn’t stress me out. I know who I am and I like myself, so I figure they can take me or leave me as I am. Meeting new supernatural creatures has been a bit more of a challenge, but I don’t fear new meet-and-greets with the weird side any longer. I’ve been there, done that, had the bejesus scared out of me too many times to count, and I’ve refused the weird and wild-side tee-shirt, because I am, after all, one of them now. So, in a sense, I told myself, meeting Maximo should be no big deal.

  Except it was.

  It really was. Maximo (I didn’t even know if he had a last name) had a reputation that preceded him. Forbidding, dangerous and dark. Was he evil? Vampires used to be evil by definition, but the new-age vamps don’t all kill their victims. They leave them with pleasurable experiences. Or so Joy tells me. I assumed Maximo to be one of them, because he didn’t hide himself. Everyone knew where Maximo lived, he made no secret of it and his badass reputation cast its own protective fear.

  Lived or died, or whatever he did. His present address was in Pleasantville a small town not far from the cove.
Inland and pretty in a pastoral sort of way.

  I drove through farm fields and vineyards and within an hour found myself at his gate. Half expecting a poster warning, “Abandon hope all ye who enter here,” I took a double check at his sign, which hung over the driveway. Painted in red below an enormous crest with an eagle design were the words: “Death sucks.”

  I motored on to his front door, an impressive large archway in a renovated farmhouse. The place had been updated with new shutters, paint and trim. It looked neat and fit the surroundings, but its normalcy gave me the creeps.

  Thick dark clouds had moved in, smothering the land with torrential downpours. The damp air felt heavy, cold and ominous. As I approached the vampire’s door I felt as if I was entering a Stephen King nightmare. I took a deep breath and knocked.

  A red-headed, man in his twenties wearing and a tight tee-shirt, which showed off impressive biceps, answered the door. “Can I help you?”

  His presence didn’t trigger my witchy senses, but my female radar hummed. He smelled human. “Is Maximo in?”

  The door opened wider. “For you, yes.”

  Now that could mean he knew who I was, or it could mean that any living/bleeding body was welcome. Whatever. I strode in with a confidence I didn’t feel. “My name is Abby Jenkins.”

  “Follow me,” said my handsome escort, and I did. The entrance opened into a small hallway. To the right a large cedar-trimmed archway marked the beginning of the living room, decorated in red. Vampires loved their red themes.

  “Have a seat.” He motioned to the comfortable-looking black leather sofa. “I will tell him you are here.”

  Not wanting to be left alone, I stuck out my bottom lip and it may have trembled. When in doubt play dumb. I know. I know. Playing dumb is so overdone and expected, but I didn’t have time to make a sophisticated plan and it usually worked.

  “You will be safe here until Maximo joins you.”