Witchy Trouble (Witchy Fingers Book 1)

by Nic Saint

  “I hope you catch him,” said Lyndon sincerely. “I loved my wife, in spite of everything. It was one of the reasons I found it so hard to file for divorce.”

  “Yes, we spoke to Ernestine Flummox from your lawyer’s firm.”

  At the mention of the name, a look of fear flitted over Lyndon’s face.

  “She told us about the interview you had with her yesterday.”

  “Yes, Spear Boodle called me this morning about your request. I gave him my permission, of course. I do hope you will keep my interview… private?”

  “Of course. Nothing that was discussed goes beyond my colleague or me.”

  Lyndon eyed Pierre curiously. He seemed to wonder about him.

  “Pierre is one of those strong, silent types,” Sam felt compelled to point out. “Anyway, I think that concludes our business here this morning. If there’s anything else you can think of, just give Pierre or me a call, will you?”

  “Of course,” said Lyndon, then added hesitantly, “My interview with Ernestine Flummox yesterday… I don’t know if this is relevant at all, but she kept making the weirdest faces at me.”

  “Faces?”

  “Yes. First she was grinning like an ape, and when I pointed this out to her, her features morphed into the most hideous and murderous expression I’ve ever seen on the face of a woman, or any human being for that matter.” He shivered even as he told the story. “She frankly gave me the creeps, Detective Barkley, and I’ve asked Spear not to have any more dealings with the woman.” He lowered his voice. “She’s evil. Pure, unadulterated evil.”

  Sam would have laughed hysterically if Lyndon hadn’t appeared deadly serious. “Well, I’ll add it to my considerations, Mr. Bloom,” he said after a pause, fighting to keep a straight face. “Though I very much doubt Miss Ernestine Flummox has anything to do with your wife’s murder.”

  “You have to admit it’s very suspicious, Detective. This obviously homicidal woman interviewed me yesterday about Selena, and this morning she’s found dead!” He eyed him seriously. “If I were you I’d definitely add her to your list of suspects. I’m telling you; the woman is dangerous!”

  As they were riding the elevator down, Sam and Pierre’s eyes met, and they both burst out laughing. Highly inappropriate, of course, but it was simply one of those moments when stuff gets so weird that you can’t help but have a good laugh. Ernestine Flummox the invisible choker. Yeah, right!

  Chapter 24

  Estrella was pumping her arms and legs furiously. She’d reached the local park and was now running full out, letting go of the frustrations of the past twenty-four hours by pushing her body to its limits. She loved to run, and whenever the opportunity presented itself would put on her running gear and put in ten miles, listening to her favorite music, and occasionally belting along with the music. Today, however, she was silent, fearing that part of the spell she’d used on herself the day before might still be in her system, and induce the trees to shed their leaves and the whole world to come crashing down around her, like Mike Hognose’s studio window.

  And she was just doing her second lap around the park, meeting the same people she usually met, old folk and mothers pushing strollers, when she caught sight of a curious phenomenon. The sky overhead had suddenly darkened to a degree, and it now looked as if it might rain. Which was weird, as it had been sunny all morning, and the forecast said nothing about rain.

  Trusting her weather app more than her own eyes, she kept on running, thinking it would blow over, but it didn’t. Quite the opposite, in fact: dark clouds gathered overhead, and suddenly the park was empty and she was the only person still doing laps. Day had suddenly turned into night, and the darkness around her was oppressive, and then the first drops fell and they were fat and cold and within seconds she was soaked to the skin!

  She wanted to make a run for it and get home, but a sudden flash of lightning told her it might be a better idea to wait out the storm by hiding under one of the big trees. Being struck by lightning was not what she had in mind! But the wind picked up, and rain was now lashing at her horizontally, the whole world morphing into this terrible storm, pummeling her ferociously. And then she saw the small tunnel under the hill at the heart of the park, and she dashed over. She could hide there until the storm blew out.

  There was an urban legend that the tunnel had been dug by trolls or goblins and that they still lived down here. It was one of the reasons most people gave it a wide berth. She’d never given much credence to the story, but now that she was standing in the dark tunnel, watching nature unleash its demons upon the world, she was starting to get a very bad feeling.

  And it was then that a gruff voice behind her barked, “You have a hard time listening, don’t you, Estrella Flummox?”

  She spun around and saw that Tavish Mildew had returned. He was still dressed in black from head to foot, only now his brow was furrowed and his expression as dark as his outfit. Yesterday on the bus he’d been a jolly old camper compared to the way he was regarding her now.

  “What do you mean?” she asked. “We tried to talk to Gran but she’s in such a weird mood that—”

  “Did I tell you to talk to your grandmother?!” he thundered. “No! All I said was to find Joshua and stop him before he stops you. Permanently!”

  “But who is this Joshua?” she asked helplessly. “And where can we find him? You have to give me something to go on here, Tavish. And who are you, for that matter? I mean, who’s to say you’re not the bad guy in this story?”

  He didn’t even crack a smile. “You’re going through a tough time, Estrella, and so are your sisters, and you have to accept there is a reason.”

  She wiped the rain from her brow. This guy was simply too much. “The reason is that we’re the worst three witches in the world! Not just that, but I’m the worst singer, Ernestine the worst lawyer person, and Edelie the worst cook! I think it’s safe to say the Flummox sisters are the world’s biggest losers!”

  “No!” he boomed. “There’s one thing you’re very good at. Your mission.”

  She laughed miserably. “Our mission? Do I look like Frodo the Hobbit to you? I don’t have a mission! I don’t even have a job!”

  His face was still a mask of seriousness. “If you don’t do as instructed, your lives will be over,” he said, “very soon now, and I cannot tolerate that.”

  “Why?” she challenged, getting sick and tired of this guy. “Why do you care so much? You don’t even know us!”

  “I took you on as my sacred charges a long time ago,” he said, his voice softening, “and I’ll be damned if I’m going to forsake this promise now.”

  “Promise? Sacred charges? Can’t you talk English for once?”

  “Let me be blunt, then. I promised your parents that I would take you under my wing when the time came.” He nodded, seeing her shocked expression. “And the time has come.”

  “What are you, like our godfather or something?”

  “Something like that,” he allowed. “When your parents died you were transferred to your grandmother’s care, with the understanding that I would keep a close eye on you when you reached the age of consent.”

  “We reached the age of consent a long time ago, buddy.”

  “The age when you come into your own and accept your heritage.”

  “Yeah, I know all about that, but if you hadn’t noticed, we’re not exactly the most talented witches in the world.”

  “I’m not talking about being witches. I’m talking about…” A clash of thunder momentarily drowned out his voice, but Estrella could have sworn it sounded a lot like… thieves.

  “Did you just say thieves?”

  A strange look had stolen over his face. “Your father was a great thief, and your mother a powerful witch. The moment they joined forces they were… magical. Your father’s life might have ended in ruin, but your mother was his saving grace. Together they turned their profession into an art form.”

  She shook her head, drople
ts sprinkling in all directions. This wasn’t making any sense. “You’re telling me our parents were a bunch of thieves?”

  “Not merely thieves,” he said, a devoted expression softening his features. “Your parents had witchy fingers. They only stole from people who deserved it. People who took what didn’t belong to them. And they did it by using your father’s burgling skills and your mother’s grasp of ancient witchcraft.”

  “Magical Robin Hoods, huh?” She was suddenly feeling a little faint, and the fact that she was wet and shivering had nothing to do with it. “But why didn’t Gran ever tell us about this?”

  “Because your grandmother never approved of your father. She accused your mother of turning her back on her family by marrying a common crook. And then when your parents died, it seemed to prove her point…”

  “How did they die?” she asked, posing the ultimate question.

  “Ask your grandmother. She knows.”

  “I did. She said they died in an accident. A car crash.”

  “They died in an accident, all right, but cars didn’t feature into it.”

  “Look, enough with the games. Either you tell me what happened to my parents or…” She stomped her foot, trying to figure out a way to make this guy talk already. This was why she didn’t like TV shows. They always made you wait weeks for the big reveal! “Or I’ll simply walk!” One eye at the storm told her this was an empty threat, however, but she had to give it a try.

  “They died on a job,” he finally said after a long pause. “They burgled the lair of a powerful warlock, and they perished because they weren’t prepared.”

  She stared at the man. “But why…”

  “They wanted to take something from him that didn’t belong to him. Something he’d stolen and was using for his personal satisfaction.” He was nodding even as she was forming the words. “Yes, that warlock was Joshua, and he’s back to finish the job he started twenty years ago. He killed your parents and now he’s coming for you… and your grandmother.”

  She’d clasped her hands to her face. “Oh. My. God.”

  “Do you see now how important it is not to get distracted? This is your mission in life, Estrella. Yours and your sisters’. Tread the path your parents took. This is your destiny, even though your grandmother doesn’t approve. You’re not a singer, nor is Edelie a cook or Ernestine a lawyer. These are merely worldly professions. Your treasures are hidden deep, but once you embrace them, they will bring you fulfillment such as you’ve never known.”

  “So we’re… thieves?” asked Estrella, flabbergasted.

  For the first time, the man smiled. “Not merely thieves. Witchy thieves. Together there’s nothing the three of you can’t accomplish. And nothing you can’t purloin. As long as you don’t steal for personal gain, but only to right the wrongs that evil forces have wrought.”

  “But what about Gran?”

  His face darkened again. “Like I told you, this is something you and your sisters have to figure out by yourselves. Your grandmother cannot help you.”

  “Because Gran is Joshua,” she said slowly, remembering his earlier words.

  “That’s right.”

  A horrible thought occurred to Estrella. What if Joshua had actually taken possession of Gran and was now holding her hostage?

  Another thunderclap tore through the skies, and lightning flashed so powerfully that the world lit up with a blinding light.

  “Your birthday is coming up, Estrella. Yours and your sisters’. This is a crucial time for you. You will either perish or persist.”

  She nodded, understanding dawning. This was all happening because they were coming of age. “So are you a warlock?” she felt compelled to ask.

  He nodded slowly. “I am, and it will surprise you to know that once upon a time I was as evil as Joshua. Your mother’s compassion and your father’s friendship saved me from a horrible fate, and I owe them my eternal gratitude.”

  She swallowed. “What were they like? Mom and Dad?”

  He smiled. “Your mother was the most beautiful, kind and loving woman I’ve ever had the honor to call my friend, and your father the most honorable and brave man. Together they were unstoppable, until they met Joshua, and perished…” There was more he wanted to say, Estrella could tell, but then his features hardened. “Go now, and tell your sisters. There isn’t much time left. Go now and find Joshua and stop him before it’s too late.” And as he became vaguer and started to disappear like a wisp of fog, she thought he said, “Before your parents’ final sacrifice turns out to have been in vain…”

  Chapter 25

  Edelie watched her boss from the corner of her eye. The flood of customers had dwindled to a trickle, and frankly she was feeling a little frustrated. She had a genuine crisis on her hands at home and here she was stuck at work. Furthermore, Ginger had been even less amiable than usual, offering only monosyllabic responses whenever Edelie tried to start a conversation. Arriving late two mornings in a row had apparently soured whatever relationship they had.

  And it wasn’t that Ginger was much of a boss anyway. She was the manager of this particular store, but that didn’t make her president of the world now did it? Judging from her behavior, though, she certainly seemed to think so.

  After ringing up her final customer, she went back to wiping the counter and cleaning up and was soon lost in thought again. Ever since this black-dressed man had come into her life, things had taken a turn for the worse, she felt, and she wondered if the man was perhaps a warlock, trying to hurt them. Insert himself into their lives and wreak havoc any way he could.

  Wasn’t that what warlocks did? She didn’t know too much about the breed, Gran always reluctant to supply the sisters with information. In fact Gran had always downplayed their witchiness, teaching them only a few simple spells and refusing to take their witchy education to the next level.

  Almost as if she was afraid for them to fully come into their own.

  She did know that their upcoming twenty-first birthday was something of a milestone. Gran had once let it slip that a witch gets her true powers once she passes that important marker. So would they suddenly turn into capable witches and not the bumbling ones they’d always been? Somehow she doubted it.

  “Edelie? A word?” Ginger suddenly asked.

  She followed her boss into the small kitchen behind the counter. She was surprised to find that the man she’d served half an hour before was also there.

  “Hi,” she said, wondering if he was perhaps from corporate, here to do a snap check. They did that sometimes. Mystery shoppers, they called them, and they were sent in to check if service was up to their usual high standards.

  “This is James,” Ginger began, “and he’s going to take over for you.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Take over? You mean for today?”

  That was nice of Ginger, she thought. She’d told her she had a sick grandmother at home, and now she was going to let her take off earlier.

  Ginger pressed her lips together. “No, he’s going to take over for you forever.” She stressed the last word, drawing out the syllables.

  She frowned, still not completely comprehending. “Forever? I don’t—”

  Ginger groaned and rolled her eyes, then she snapped, “What’s so difficult to understand, you pea-brain? You’re fired! I’m firing you, that’s what this is.”

  “Fired? But…”

  Ginger planted her hand on her hip and launched into a harangue. “You keep showing up late for work, serving customers to you is like having your teeth pulled, judging from that sad look on face, people keep complaining that you serve them lukewarm coffee in half-filled cups, or that you mess up their orders, and what’s worse, you shortchange them all the time!” It seemed as if she’d been waiting to give this little speech for ages, and cherished the moment. “Didn’t they teach you fricking math in school, Edelie? Huh?”

  She blinked. “I don’t shortchange,” she said weakly. Though maybe she did. Math wasn’
t her strong suit, and Brigham Shatwell kept changing the prices all the time. “And I definitely don’t underserve. That’s a lie.”

  “It’s not a lie if several customers complain about it,” Ginger pointed out.

  She stared at her manager. Was she actually firing her?

  “But whatever,” said Ginger. “You’re out and James is in.”

  “Sorry about that,” the guy murmured, which was actually nice of him.

  “I’ll have your apron and cap now,” Ginger said, holding out her hand.

  So Edelie took off her apron and cap and handed them to her boss. Even though she hated this job, she didn’t feel any relief. What she felt was humiliation at being treated like this. Basically being fired for not being happy and peppy enough with the customers. Well, she wasn’t a happy, peppy person, was she? That didn’t make her a bad barista. Did it?

  “For the record,” James whispered when Ginger momentarily disappeared behind the partition to see if any customers had arrived, “I thought you did great, and you never shortchanged or underserved me.”

  “Watch out for Ginger,” she whispered back. “She’s not a nice person.”

  “I heard that,” snapped Ginger, who’d returned at that moment. “And for your information, I am a nice person. I’m miss congeniality.”

  Edelie shrugged. She wasn’t about to get into a fight with Ginger.

  “Who gave you the opportunity to try out some of your own recipes?”

  She shrugged again.

  “And who encouraged you to become a pastry chef?”

  Edelie was eyeing the door eagerly. She didn’t feel like listening to a lecture from someone who’d just fired her for not having the right face.