Witch on Third (A Jinx Hamilton Mystery Book 6)

by Juliette Harper

  Festus scrubbed thoughtfully at one ear with his paw. “Huh,” he said. “Maybe those morons at the Registry have actually come up with something useful. So what happens to all the pictures we take with this thing?”

  “They go to Barnaby and Moira for analysis.”

  “We don’t get to look at them?”

  “The tag emits a beam of light that will highlight everything it strikes,” Chase said. “We’ll be able to see the stuff in real time.”

  “Okay,” Festus said grudgingly, “now I’m interested.”

  “I’ll be sure to tell Furl you approve,” Chase said sardonically.

  Festus growled. “I never said I approved, I’m just a little more interested than I was five minutes ago. You’re just assuming the damned thing will actually work. Are we doing Ionescu’s office today, too?”

  Chase sat down on the edge of the bed and began to take off his shoes. “No,” he said. “Cezar gave us permission to look through Anton’s papers. We can just walk right in the front door. No need to go sneaking around. We have an appointment with Anton’s secretary tomorrow morning at ten. Then we’re going to go see Miss Shania Moonbeam.”

  Festus snorted. “Her I can’t wait to meet. I guess we’re going to have to do all that on two legs?”

  “We can't very well walk around Raleigh as mountain lions,” Chase said, starting to unbutton his shirt. “And people tend to freak out when house cats start talking to them.”

  “Humans would be a lot better off if they did listen to their house cats,” Festus said. “I discussed that very thing with Winston just the other day.”

  Chase froze. “Winston, as in Jinx’s cat Winston?”

  Unperturbed, Festus asked, “Do we know anyone else named Winston?”

  Fixing his father with a look of horror, Chase said, “Does Jinx know you’re talking to her cats?”

  Festus laughed outright at that. “You think I’ve lost my ever-loving mind?” he said. “Of course she doesn’t know. I go visiting when she’s busy downstairs in the shop.”

  Intrigued in spite of himself, Chase said, “How are you getting over there?”

  “Well, how do you think?” Festus said. “Through the AC ducts. The vent in her kitchen is loose.”

  Chase covered his eyes with his hands. “Dad, you cannot just break into her place like that,” he groaned. “Seriously. Stop it.”

  “I am not breaking in,” Festus replied complacently. “I’m using an alternate means of entry. Besides, her crew is an interesting bunch. Talking to them gives me a chance to practice speaking Felinese without having to hang out in some back alley.”

  “Right,” Chase said, “because you’ve always objected to alleys. How long has this been going on?”

  Making a show of considering the question, Festus said, “Hmm. Let’s see. Oh. Yeah. I remember. It started when you up and decided to break Jinx’s heart without warning.”

  “That is not fair,” Chase declared hotly. “You should know better than anyone why I had to break up with her.”

  “As usual, you’re not listening,” Festus replied. “I’m not arguing with the why of what you did. It’s the how of the thing. I was worried about the girl. The best way to get the real scoop was to talk to someone who knows her in private. Women tell their cats everything. You know that.”

  When Chase didn’t say anything, Festus said, “Well, do you want to know what I found out or not?”

  “I’m not sure,” Chase answered honestly. “Is it going to make me feel like more of a jerk than I already do?”

  Festus shook his head. “Son, we’re not talking about you. We’re talking about Jinx.”

  Swallowing hard, Chase said, “You’re right. What did you find out?”

  “There were a lot of crying nights,” Festus said.

  “I knew that already,” Chase replied flatly.

  “Yeah,” Festus said, “but what you don’t know is that she doesn’t hate you, so you can stop eating yourself up wondering about that.”

  Chase dropped his head. “How do you know she doesn’t hate me?” he asked quietly.

  When the old cat spoke again, his voice was more gentle. “Like I said, boy, Jinx talks to Winston and the others. She told them she knows you did what you thought was best, she just wishes you’d discussed it with her first. She wants the two of you to be able to work together and be friends. That’s your opening.”

  Looking up, Chase frowned in confusion. “My opening?” he said. “My opening for what?”

  “To settle down and be her friend like she wants you to be,” Festus said, “That means not getting your back up every time Lucas Grayson smiles at the woman.”

  It was Chase’s turn to scowl. “What am I supposed to do?” he asked sharply. “Sit there and watch him flirt with her?”

  “That’s exactly what you’re supposed to do,” Festus replied. “Lucas Grayson is not your enemy. For the love of Bastet, would you just tell me the truth about what happened between the two of you?”

  “Leave it alone, Dad,” Chase said, yanking off his shirt. “It’s water under the bridge.”

  “Then why do you still want to take the guy’s head off?”

  Chase stood up and unbuckled his belt. “We need to get to Chesterfield’s shop,” he said tersely.

  “Changing the subject won’t make this situation better,” Festus said. “If you won’t tell me what happened, either get over it or resolve your differences with Lucas. I’m telling you, Jinx has had it with the attitude. We all have.”

  “I don’t need to hear this lecture again,” Chase said.

  “If I were lecturing you, you’d know it,” Festus said. “I’m trying to be your father and your friend. Don’t make me have to speak harshly to you in front of everyone again the way you did last night. I don’t enjoy doing that, son. Accept the reality of things and move on.”

  “Okay, fine. I hear you. Can we please just get going and not talk about this anymore?”

  Regarding his son, who now stood before him in his underwear, Festus said, “Sure. But don’t you think you ought to open the window while you still have opposable thumbs?”

  Swearing under his breath, Chase padded to the window and opened it a few inches. Then the shimmering light covered his form and he shifted into a muscular, well-built Russian Blue.

  As Festus jumped down off the bed, he said, “You putting on weight, boy? You’re looking a little fluffy.”

  “I’m getting my winter coat,” Chase said, jumping up on the window sill. “And with that beer gut, you’re a fine one to be talking about someone’s weight.”

  Joining his son on the window sill, Festus said, “Winter coat, huh? Keeping telling yourself that.”

  Gauging the distance to the tree limb outside the window, Chase effortlessly sailed across the space and hit the branch with a solid thud. Festus gathered himself and replicated the leap, nailing a perfect three-point landing.

  “Still think your old man is fat?” he asked, grinning at Chase.

  Chuckling, Chase led the way down the tree trunk. The two cats trotted side by side into the alley behind the hotel. Even with a pronounced limp, Festus matched his son’s pace and stride.

  As they made their way behind the buildings, Festus glanced around approvingly. “Good thing we’re doing this on a Sunday,” he said. “Fewer people out and about.”

  “Exactly,” Chase said. “And we don’t have to cross any streets. We’re going in the back door at Chesterfield’s.”

  Wrinkling his nose as they passed a restaurant dumpster, Festus said, “How did you manage that?”

  “Furl sent Rube and his crew in last night to jimmy the lock on the backdoor and check for any enchantments or booby traps,” Chase said. “The place is wide open.”

  “Which means we aren’t going to find a blessed thing,” Festus said.

  “That’s why you’re wearing the RABIES tag,” Chase said, sidestepping a wad of gum on the pavement. “We already know Chesterfi
eld cleaned the place out, but hopefully the scanner will show us what was there.”

  Still annoyed at the silver tab slapping against his chest, Festus said, “Why didn’t the Registry hang this RABIES thing off Rube’s neck and let him take care of the recon?”

  “You know they can’t turn the coons loose with this kind of technology,” Chase said. “Those guys are never more than one whisker away from committing a felony. Besides, they couldn’t very well march into Anton’s office or go talk to Miss Shania.”

  “Guess you have a point there,” Festus admitted. “If raccoons could shapeshift, the damned striped goons would try to take over the world.”

  Glancing sideways at his father, Chase said, “You do drink with those striped goons, you know.”

  “Well, yeah,” Festus said. “Nobody said they don’t have good taste in booze.”

  Chase stopped in front of a lone door set in a red brick wall. “We’re here,” he said.

  Standing up on his hind legs, he used his front paws to twist the knob, pushing at the same time. The door swung inward on well-oiled hinges.

  Both cats slipped inside, and Chase pushed the door closed again. As their vision adjusted, they found themselves standing in a deserted back room.

  “Good thing we can see in the dark,” Festus said. “This guy wasn’t big on natural lighting, was he?”

  “Start the scanner,” Chase said. “Let’s see what Chesterfield was doing back here.”

  Festus scratched at the collar with his good hind leg. On the third swipe, the glow returned to the RABIES tag and a shaft of light emanated from the silver metal.

  The beam illuminated an area roughly ten feet wide and fifteen feet deep in front of the spot where Festus was standing. A workbench covered with jeweler’s tools appeared in the blue-gray glow.

  “This must have been his workroom,” Chase said. “There’s the transom over the door just the way Glory described it.”

  As Festus played the scanner around the walls, the wavering outlines of a tall wooden cabinets with glass doors appeared.

  “Can you make out any of the artifacts?” Chase asked.

  “Yeah,” Festus said. “That’s a sextant, and that thing next to it is an astrolabe.”

  “A what?”

  “An astronomical measuring instrument that came before the sextant,” Festus said. “I think he’s got these things arranged in chronological order of development.”

  “How do you know that?” Chase asked.

  Festus laughed. “Give your old man some credit, boy. I do more with my time than just play Red Dot at the Dirty Claw.”

  As Chase watched, his father circled the room, scanning all four walls. When Festus returned to where he was standing, Chase asked, “Are we good to go into the front room?”

  “Yep,” Festus said. “Let’s do it.”

  Chase leaned his weight against the door, shoving it open a few inches. He went through, had a quick look around, and then called for Festus to follow him.

  Now that they were in the shop proper, more ordinary items showed up in the RABIES beam, although a few pieces displayed unusually intense energy signatures.

  “Any of the stuff mean anything to you?” Festus asked, half an hour later.

  “No,” Chase said, “but we have plenty of experts to analyze the scans. Let’s go through the living quarters upstairs and then get out of here.”

  To their surprise, however, the second floor appeared to be completely empty.

  “So he moved everything out longer ago than 72 hours,” Chase said. “Interesting.”

  Behind him, Festus cleared his throat. “Not everything, boy.”

  “What do you . . ?”

  Chase’s words died in his throat.

  The RABIES beam highlighted a segment of the exposed brick in the apartment’s living room. Glowing letters stood out on the rough surface.

  “So sorry to have missed you,” the message read, “but I assure you, we will meet soon. Please lock the door when you leave. One can never be too conscientious about security, can one?”

  “Games,” Festus muttered. “Always games with those damned Creavit.”

  “How could he have known we were coming?” Chase asked.

  “How do the Creavit know anything?” Festus said. “Come on. We’re done here.”

  With that, he turned on his paws and headed downstairs.

  Chase moved to follow, but at the door he paused and looked back at the brick wall. He could no longer see the words, but the hair on the back of his neck stood up anyway. Chesterfield always seemed to stay one step ahead of them and that made Chase very, very nervous.

  From downstairs, Festus yowled, “Get a move on, boy. I’m hungry.”

  Only partially shaking his sense of foreboding, Chase answered, “I’m coming. Keep your fur on.”

  The sun had already begun to set when the two cats slipped back in the window of the hotel room. Chase shifted immediately, dressing in pajama pants and an old T-shirt before starting to upload the data from the RABIES collar.

  The instant he was free of the scanning device, Festus started to groom furiously. “Where are you sending the files?” he asked between licks.

  “To the Registry Dropbox account,” Chase said. “The sooner they get them, the sooner we get some answers. You want to call for room service?”

  “Sure,” Festus said, jumping onto the desk and flipping the menu open with his paw. Then something occurred to him. “Are we expensing all this to the Registry?”

  “Yes,” Chase said. “Festus gave me a Registry credit card number. Why?”

  “Oh, nothing,” Festus said, knocking the phone, off the hook and pressing a button with his paw. “Hello . . . room service? Yes, this is Mr. McGregor in Room 210. What’s the biggest steak on your menu? . . . Sixteen ounces? . . . Surely you can do better than that. What are my options for outside delivery . . .

  “Dad!” Chase hissed. “What are you doing?”

  “Hold on,” Festus said into the phone, “I need to turn the TV down.” Putting his paw over the mouthpiece he hissed back. “If I have to spend all day tomorrow as a human, I need sustenance, and the Registry can dang well afford meat. You in or not?”

  Shaking his head, Chase said, “I’m in, but 16 ounces is enough for me.”

  “Lightweight,” Festus muttered as he removed his paw. “Okay, if that’s the best you can do, we’ll take three 16 ounce porterhouse steaks with all the trimmings. Yes, yes, put it on the same card as the room. Now, let’s talk single malt . . . ”

  12

  When we stepped out of O’Hanson’s, a gust of wind almost knocked us down. “Whoa!” I said. “Who turned on the air conditioning?”

  “More like the deep freeze,” Greer said. “I know you found flying with me a bit disconcerting, but would you mind if we used that method again to return to the portal? I don’t fancy the idea of walking in this weather.”

  “Me either,” I said. “Fly away.”

  Greer caught hold of me with one hand and offered the other to Lucas. “Ready to go, laddie?” she asked.

  To my surprise, Lucas declined. “Naw,” he said, “you two go on back without me. I need to do a couple of things here in Shevington. I’ll be back in Briar Hollow in a few hours.”

  He didn’t offer to explain what “a couple of things” meant, and since Greer didn’t ask for more details, I didn’t think I should either. We all said goodnight and then Greer and I rode the wind to the portal.

  I didn’t waste any time activating the opening. Normally I’d say the fairy mound stays cold year round, but our transition from the valley to the stacks was like stepping into a sauna that night.

  “Brrr,” I said, still shivering. “I didn’t expect it to be so cold in the Valley this soon.”

  “You can’t predict winter weather in the Valley,” Greer said. “The sun will likely be shining tomorrow, but I’d wager the first snow isn’t far away.” She held out her hand again. “One more f
light back to the lair?”

  When I didn’t move, she said, “Oh, dear. Air sickness?”

  “No,” I said, “it’s not that. I was just wondering if you have any idea why Lucas stayed behind?”

  “Ah,” Greer said. “Our man of mystery. No, I don’t know why he chose to remain in Shevington. The laddie is always one for his strange errands. I wouldn’t worry about it. The better you come to know him the more you’ll ignore his eccentricities.”

  Eccentricities? So far Lucas struck me as a routinely genial person. After what I’d just gone through with Chase, I wasn’t sure I wanted to risk getting involved with another moody man. Greer seemed to read my thoughts.

  “He’s not a broody one like McGregor,” she said, “and Grayson doesn’t have a dark bone in his body. Like as not he just wanted to go have a word with Moira.”

  That wasn’t what I was expecting. “Why would he talk to Moira behind our backs?” I blurted out.

  Greer laughed. “You can’t mistrust every man just because McGregor has been acting like a fool,” she said. “Lucas is Moira’s nephew.”

  Oh.

  “Sorry,” I said. “He never said that they’re related.”

  “He doesn’t bring it up often,” Greer said. “Lucas likes to fancy he’s made his own place in the world without trading on his aunt’s position.”

  “Has he?” I asked curiously.

  “He has indeed,” Greer said, “but he’s a discreet man under all that swagger, with a soft heart for family. Moira loves Barnaby, and Lucas loves Moira. He’d want to check on how they’re both doing after the revelations about Chesterfield. Going to the Lord High Mayor directly wouldn’t be proper in his estimation, so I imagine Lucas is talking with Moira now.”

  Discretion and a soft heart for family. Those were qualities I could deal with.

  This time when Greer held out her hand, I took it.

  Everyone had already gone to bed when we got back to the shop. I left Greer in her favorite chair by the fire. Knowing that the baobhan sith would be awake while we all slept allowed me to slip into my apartment without worrying about our safety.