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Un-fur-tunate Murders

Page 15

by Harper Lin


  “I didn’t want there to be a chance of them using any kind of magic or spell on any of the officers. These men manipulated their surroundings on a regular basis. They could make something ugly appear beautiful, something terrifying seem tranquil, something occupied seem suddenly empty.” She tore into her own chunk of bread. “It was a good thing I arrived when I did.”

  Both Bea and I looked at each other in shock and simultaneously scooted our chairs in closer to listen.

  “When I arrived, I watched as the two men were fingerprinted and photographed. I watched as they were each asked questions and without emotion admitted to killing Archie Jones, pushing him off the bridge after injecting him with the horse tranquilizer because he had somehow stumbled across their marijuana crop. They admitted to the murder of Calista Brown.”

  “Calista Brown? They said she committed suicide at the bridge, too.” Bea shook her head.

  “Apparently not. She was out exploring and bird watching when she stumbled onto their property. She saw the animals.” Aunt Astrid pinched her lips together. “There were a few more names that I’m sure were all ruled suicides and contributed to the myth of Suicide Bridge and Evergrave Creek. But it was the Clares all along.”

  “So why did they admit to all this?” I asked, feeling a shiver as the obvious stared me in the face. Had the cavalry not arrived when it did, I might have been the next one hanging from Suicide Bridge.

  “Without the protection of the Rotmirage, they could no longer continue. They were willing to give that thing whatever it wanted in order to keep living the way they did.”

  “But from what I saw, they lived like pigs.” Bea wrinkled her nose and frowned.

  “They saw it as a palace,” Aunt Astrid stated.

  “That’s just plain weird,” Bea muttered with a mouthful of broccoli and hummus.

  “As things became more desperate and the reality of the situation was sinking in, they began to turn on each other. They were mumbling and hissing, and they weren’t using our kind of words. But I could hear them.”

  “That’s just plain creepy,” I said, putting my good hand to my chest.

  “You have no idea,” Aunt Astrid hissed.

  Something had happened in those holding cells that more than disturbed Aunt Astrid. For an average person to look at her, she looked just as gentle and feminine as any woman in her early sixties. But Bea and I both knew what kind of spit and vinegar coursed through her veins when she was angry.

  According to her, the Clares were cursing and screaming at each other like devils in Hades. To the police officers, it appeared they were barely moving around their cells, just managing to move to the bars then back to their metal beds. It was a mirage, like the one that covered up their marijuana plants. But in a slightly skewed dimensional level, they were tearing at their own skin, pounding against the walls, and digging at the floor below the bars. Being trapped was driving them mad.

  “And they saw me there, wavering between dimensions, staying mostly hidden but peeking through for a few seconds here and there. They begged me to help them.”

  “That’s interesting.” My sarcasm was unavoidable. “They didn’t like being in a cage? How ironic.”

  “You’re reading my mind.” Bea nudged me with her elbow.

  Without engaging Otto or Leland Clare, Aunt Astrid conjured an enclosure spell. It wasn’t your average binding spell.

  “I tweaked it slightly to ensure that neither Otto nor Leland would try to escape. If they made any attempt to be in an environment that wasn’t under lock and key, they would suffer debilitating stomach cramps. So if they weren’t in a cell, if they weren’t in handcuffs, if they weren’t in a prison yard, they would not be able to function. It was quite brilliant, if I do say so myself. It’s a shame they didn’t live for me to see if it would actually work.” Aunt Astrid popped a piece of bread in her mouth and chewed thoughtfully.

  “So that’s an ending I can live with,” I said bitterly. “But if the ceilings were so high, how did they manage to get the sheets around the pipes to do themselves in?”

  “I don’t believe they did it to themselves.” Aunt Astrid peeked at Bea and me from underneath heavy eyelids.

  “You don’t think the police did it!” Bea gasped.

  “You don’t think Tom would be part of something like that!” I almost chuckled at the idea, had my aunt not looked so grave.

  “No.” Aunt Astrid’s voice was soft, but I couldn’t help feeling an icy edge to it. “I don’t think for a minute that Tom had anything to do with it. But I can’t say there wasn’t a paranormal tint to everything.”

  I tossed my head to the right and let my mouth fall open.

  “Are you saying you think someone or someones on the unincorporated Wonder Falls PD might be doing a little spell casting of their own?”

  “I’m saying”—Aunt Astrid folded her arms over her chest—“that if the Clares came from such a long line of black-magic practitioners, it wouldn’t surprise me if when they asked for help, this was the response.”

  Treacle decided to make an appearance and gave everyone’s legs a good brushing as he slunk past before hopping up on my lap to continue his nap.

  “Girls, this is why we have to guard what we know.”

  I don’t think anything would make me shed a tear for the Clares. But as I watched my aunt, I saw a glimmer of sadness in her eyes.

  “It can become such an overwhelming seduction to some people. Can you imagine what the Clares could have accomplished had they not abused their gifts?” She folded her hands. “It’s such a waste.”

  “You’ve got a much bigger heart than me, Aunt Astrid.” I set Treacle on the floor regardless of his purring protest and went to the oven to peek in on the lasagna, which was warming nicely. “I don’t think they suffered nearly enough. Not after what I saw with those kittens and what Treacle told me from his friend Enzo.” I snapped my fingers. “Do either one of you want to go with me tomorrow to check on them at Old Murray’s?”

  Bea had left the kittens with Marshmallow, Treacle, and Peanut Butter after she had made her way back home and called in backup. When we finished with all the excitement at the Clare farm, we took Enzo in as well. I had been in yesterday, and Enzo was still recuperating. The kittens had been adopted but were still being tended to. They’d move into their new home with Mrs. Bartlett, a wealthy widow in town who was good friends with Old Murray.

  “The kittens are doing fine,” Bea said then looked at her mother. “They are starting to play, and they’re plumping up already.”

  “And Enzo?” Treacle and I had talked about inviting the stray to stay with us on an “as needed” basis. If he needed to stay, he could anytime.

  But I wasn’t stupid. I could tell by the look on my family’s faces that the news wasn’t good.

  “Honey, we didn’t really know how to tell you, but Enzo passed away in his sleep this morning.” My aunt held her chin up and gave me a kind smile.

  Treacle jumped back up on the table and looked at me.

  I just let the tears come. I pulled my cat to me, holding him as if he were a baby over my shoulder, and I stroked his fur. He pushed his head into my chin and made not a single sound.

  Bea had started to cry, too. It was never good to lose a familiar, especially in the line of duty, so to speak. But it was an inevitable part of life. At least Enzo didn’t die locked up in a cage.

  “Old Murray was with him the entire time. You know how he is about the animals,” Bea said soothingly, wiping tears from her eyes. “He talked to Enzo and told him he’d see him at Rainbow Bridge. He said Enzo purred and purred until the very end.”

  I nodded. Treacle began to purr.

  “Okay,” I said trying to toughen up. “We can’t save them all. Sorry to say.”

  “No, honey, we can’t. But the ones we do usually end up saving us,” Aunt Astrid said soothingly.

  “And Enzo did that, literally,” Bea added, smiling.

  “He did
.” I said, squeezing the big black bundle of fur in my arms.

  The One

  “I love the snow,” I mused, looking out the sliding back door in Bea’s kitchen.

  “That isn’t really snow.” Jake leaned over my shoulder. “Those are called flurries. I don’t mind those because I don’t have to shovel them.”

  “I might invest in a snow blower this winter,” I continued, thinking. “Maybe I’ll ask Santa for one for Christmas.”

  “When are the rest of the guests going to arrive?” Aunt Astrid asked as she struggled with the leaf that went in the middle of Bea’s dining room table to make it bigger.

  “Blake should be here in about ten minutes,” Jake answered and went over to the table to help.

  “Tom will be by after his shift, and that should be in about half an hour.” I sighed.

  Normally, I enjoyed two Thanksgivings. There was the fun and exciting Thanksgiving at Bea’s place where she made tofu turkey, mushroom stuffing, pureed cranberries, and a huge veggie salad. I’d politely take a taste of everything then pat my stomach and tell her it was delicious before I made my way back home to enjoy a real turkey submarine sandwich with all the fixings crammed between two thick pieces of bread that I picked up at Jimmy John’s the previous day.

  But this year was a little different. Since Tom was coming, Aunt Astrid offered to cook a real turkey instead of the traditional tofu.

  “It isn’t every year that we have a special guest like Tom joining us,” Aunt Astrid said, chuckling. “We don’t want him to think we are too weird. We’ll ease him into it.”

  “I can’t understand why anyone wouldn’t like a tofu turkey.” Bea huffed. “Tofu can be made to taste like anything you want it to.”

  “And that statement is enough to make me all the more suspicious of this chameleon sustenance called tofu.” I bumped Bea with my hip as I began to help her in the kitchen. “Try the turkey,” I whispered in her ear. “Come to the dark-meat side.”

  She laughed and bumped me back.

  Just then, the doorbell rang, and Jake was off to get it. He had to be thankful for a little extra testosterone in the house.

  We heard him happily greeting Blake and quickly jumping into some theory on a case they were working on or the score of a football game. It all sounded too masculine for me.

  But when Blake entered into the room, I couldn’t believe my eyes. He was not wearing the same all-business suit with wing tips that he usually did. Instead, he was wearing a casual pair of gray pants and a maroon-colored sweater. He looked relaxed and happy and very handsome.

  “Blake, you know everyone,” Jake said, “Let me get you something to drink.”

  Blake waved and walked immediately up to Aunt Astrid to give her a kiss on the cheek. What kind of perfume she wore to always attract the fellows, I didn’t know, but whatever it was, the guys always sought her out first.

  He went to Bea and gave her a hug and produced a card from his back pocket. They exchanged some pleasantries that I couldn’t quite hear, but he said something that made her laugh.

  Then it was my turn.

  “Cath.” He waved from across the counter.

  That’s it? That’s all I get?

  “Happy Thanksgiving, Blake. We’re glad you made it.” I felt as if I were grinning like Batman’s arch nemesis, the Joker. My cheeks instantly ached.

  I went back to helping with the salad, teasing Jake, and helping myself to the cornucopia of crackers, cheeses, cookies, and candies that Bea had spread out on the coffee table in the living room.

  Peanut Butter, Marshmallow, and Treacle had all found their own special seats and were as much a part of the conversation as the rest of us were, even though they said very little but purred at every leg that passed by.

  “You look really nice, Cath,” Blake said quietly as I went to pour myself a glass of eggnog.

  “Thank you, Blake. You look nice, too. I didn’t think I would have recognized you without a suit on.”

  “Yeah, I thought maybe a change was in order.”

  I sipped the eggnog and looked around. Blake said nothing but didn’t make any movements as though he wanted to leave.

  “Can I get you a glass?” I offered. It seemed like the right thing to do.

  “Sure,” he replied.

  I handed him an eggnog and raised my glass.

  “A toast to the holidays.” I smiled and blinked. “That everyone is with who they love.”

  He clinked his glass to mine, and I swore I saw the right corner of his mouth curl slightly. I thought it was a smile. I couldn’t be sure. It was sort of like a Bigfoot sighting. It was there, and then it was gone. There was no way to be sure.

  “What are your plans for the long weekend?” he asked, sounding as though he were in the interrogation room, questioning a witness.

  “Well, since the café will be closed for the next two days, Aunt Astrid, Bea, and I will probably get it decorated for Christmastime. That’s always like the first party of the season. Well, for me, it’s the only party.” I shuffled my feet nervously.

  I was a little jealous of people who were married and got to go to several holiday parties with in-laws and different office parties and just those kinds of gatherings that they portray in chocolate or vodka commercials on television.

  For me, it had been with my family. Not that I didn’t think that was great. I did. But like Blake and his casual wear, maybe a change was in order.

  “That sounds like fun.”

  I nodded.

  “How about you?” I asked nervously. I was starting to feel those old butterflies that used to come whenever I was around Blake. As if he were staring at me and seeing my slip or an exposed bra strap or something equally embarrassing.

  “Well, I’ve actually got some time off coming to me.” He stated it as if I’d never heard of a person taking time off work. Although I will admit hearing it from him was as odd as a nun carrying a surfboard.

  “Really? Well, that will be nice. Are you travelling?”

  “No. In fact, I was hoping that maybe you and I could talk.” He took a step closer to me, making me crane my neck a little more to look up at him.

  “We’re talking right now.” I didn’t mean to be a smarty-pants. I just thought if he had anything to talk to me about, he had me right there.

  “Yes, but I was hoping we could talk seriously, maybe over dinner somewhere.”

  I nearly choked on my eggnog. I didn’t know what to say. Everything started moving in slow motion. I looked to my aunt and to Bea, but they were both busy talking amongst themselves, not paying any attention to me as I internally flailed my arms and screamed at the top of my lungs.

  “I feel like I need to fix something with you.” His eyes looked sad. “Something got broken.”

  “I didn’t break anything.” I held the crystal glass with the creamy liquid inside and turned it nervously in my hands.

  “You didn’t, Cath. You didn’t at all. It’s me, and I…”

  Just as Blake was about to elaborate, the doorbell rang and Jake was off at a jog to get the door. A loud “Happy Thanksgiving!” came along with laughter and footsteps as Tom sauntered in. He was carrying several packages.

  He made the rounds to everyone, presenting Bea with a beautiful planter of white poinsettias, and a bottle of some brown liquid to Jake, who smiled and thanked him. Of course, again, Aunt Astrid whistled her siren song, and Tom went running to give her a hug and kiss.

  Before turning to me, he ambled up to Blake with his hand extended and a genuinely friendly smile on his face.

  “Blake, how are you? Good to see you. But I’ve got to steal my girlfriend for just a second.” I may as well have been standing there nude I blushed so hard. Tom took me by the hand and brought me toward the couch.

  He kissed me on the cheek and handed me a card.

  “Open it.”

  “Right here and now?” I looked around, but the only audience was Marshmallow and Peanut Butter. Treacl
e was busy rubbing against Tom’s leg as if he were a scratching post.

  “Yeah, its kind of important.” He winked at me. I tore open the card and looked at the inscription.

  “This looks like an invitation. A Christmas party?”

  “The Wonder Falls police and fire stations have a huge Christmas bash every year. The guys wear tuxes. The girls wear their finest dresses. We get to dance and eat, and you’ll get to meet everyone, and it is always a lot of fun.”

  “Wow.”

  “I’ve always gone stag. This is the first time I wanted to invite anyone. Would you go with me?” Tom took my hands in his. It was as if he’d asked me to wear his pin and go steady. I nodded yes.

  But when I turned around and saw Blake standing there, I wondered if I should have. I had toasted that everyone be with the one they love.

  In Book 7 of the Wonder Cats Mysteries, the holiday spirit is in full effect in Wonder Falls, but so is a puzzling and gruesome murder mystery. Buy FUR-MILIAR FELINES now or read an excerpt at the end of this book.

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  All books by Harper Lin

  The Wonder Cats Mysteries

  A Hiss-tory of Magic: Book 1

  Pawsitively Dead: Book 2

  Cat-atrophic Spells: Book 3

  The Scariest Tail: Book 4

  Purr-fect Getaway: Book 5

  Un-fur-tunate Murders: Book 6

  Fur-miliar Felines: Book 7

  Box Set Volume I: Books 1-3

  * * *

  The Secret Agent Granny Mysteries

  Granny’s Got a Gun: Book 1

  Granny Undercover: Book 2

  Granny Strikes Back: Book 3

  * * *

  The Cape Bay Cafe Mysteries

  Cappuccinos, Cupcakes, and a Corpse: Book 1

  Tea, Tiramisu, and Tough Guys: Book 2

  Margaritas, Marzipan, and Murder: Book 3

  Lattes, Ladyfingers, and Lies: Book 4

  Americanos, Apple Pies, and Art Thieves: Book 5

 

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