Tails, You Lose (A Witch City Mystery Book 2)

by Carol J. Perry

  “Mr. Wilson?” She had Primrose’s attention. Mine too.

  “Oh yeah. You should have seen him prowling around our place first thing this morning. He looked so goofy. All dressed up in his nice suit and shoes, carrying his skinny briefcase in one hand and a big set of hedge clippers in the other, slopping through the mud out behind the house.”

  “Hedge clippers?” Sammy’s smirk had disappeared. “What for?”

  Kelly threw her hands up. “Beats me. Guess he wanted to cut some of those tree roots and tangled-up weeds and bushes to try to find that number six. After that, he was walking along on top of the stone wall. But Pa ran outside and yelled at him to get out of there.”

  “He did?” Therese’s eyes widened. “Why?”

  “Something about insurance.”

  “So did Jonathan . . . Mr. Wilson . . . leave when your dad told him to?” Primrose asked.

  “I don’t think so. He came down off of the wall and went around to the back of the house again. I mean the front.” She giggled. “You know what I mean.”

  “He’s wasting his time,” Sammy announced, standing up. “There have to be hundreds of number six houses in Salem. Right, Lee?”

  “I’d have to say yes to that, Sammy. Maybe if some of the other squares had numbers, we could figure out the location of the streets or tunnels, or whatever they are.” I took the teacher’s copy of the textbook from the shelf. “Shall we get to work now?”

  “Where’s Duke?” Sammy looked toward the landing. “We’re two men short now. Am I going to be the only rooster in this henhouse?”

  “Huh. You should only be so lucky,” Primrose muttered.

  “No kidding, Ms. Barrett. He should be here.” Sammy frowned. “Mind if I step outside and try to see what’s up with him?”

  “Go ahead,” I said. “But don’t take all day.”

  “Thanks.” He pulled on his jacket, holding his phone to his ear. I watched through the old shoe department’s empty display window as he hurried out of sight.

  “Looks like it’s just us hens,” Kelly said, opening her book. “What page are we on?”

  We read a few chapters, practiced filming with the handheld camera, and checked the sound levels. I was surprised when I looked at the clock over the news desk and saw that it was nearly noon.

  Duke wandered in a few minutes before twelve, looking disheveled and unshaven. “Sorry,” he mumbled, slumping into his favorite chair. “Overslept.”

  “You look terrible,” Kelly said. “Where did you sleep? In your truck?”

  “Yep. I did.” He leaned forward, cradling his head on folded arms. “I feel like shit.”

  “You want to come to lunch with us, Duke?” Therese asked.

  The big man just groaned.

  “Maybe we’ll bring you something,” Kelly said, and she and Therese and Primrose headed for the diner. “Coming, Ms. Barrett?”

  I was about to join them when my phone buzzed. Pete was calling.

  “You on your lunch break?” he asked, his tone serious. “Can you talk?”

  “Sure. What’s wrong?”

  “Looks like your boy Thom has skipped town again.”

  “What do you mean?” I dropped my voice and walked toward the stairs. “Where’d he go?”

  “We tried to contact him by phone last night, and when we couldn’t, I asked for a New York uniform to go over there this morning to roust him. Chief’s through screwing around with this kid.”

  “Did that scare him away?” I asked.

  “Nope. Already gone. The doorman says Thom took off last night. Probably right after he talked to you.” Pete sounded disgusted. “Damn.”

  “Oh, Pete. I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have called him.”

  “Not your fault, babe. The doorman says the kid came down carrying a suitcase, gave him twenty bucks to check on the cat, got into a cab, and left.”

  “Maybe he decided to come home,” I said. “Did you see if his mother’s heard from him?”

  “She hasn’t. Now we’ve got her all upset and crying and calling the station every two minutes again. What a mess.” He exhaled audibly. “Want to eat lunch with me? I’m at the drive-through right now. I’ll bring you a cheeseburger.”

  “Good deal.”

  “I’ll be there in a minute,” he said. “You want fries with that?”

  “Sure. And you might bring an extra coffee for Duke. He’s not feeling well today.”

  Pete arrived with the promised burgers, fries, and coffee. “Let’s go outside and sit in your car,” Pete said, glancing at Duke. “Nice out there. Depressing in here.”

  “You’ve got that right,” I said. “Let’s go.”

  We walked out to the parking lot and climbed into the Corvette with our food and drinks, as if we were going to a picnic. I leaned back in the driver’s seat, eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of the warm sun on my face.

  “Pete,” I said, “what are you going to do about Thom? You’re going to have to find out what he saw Christmas night.”

  “We’ll find him. We have more than one reason now to bring him in.”

  I opened my eyes and sat up straight. “What does that mean?”

  “I reinterviewed the dog walker. Remember the one who saw the three drunks?”

  “Did you show her the brown jacket to see if she could identify Bill?”

  “She didn’t recognize it. But she did notice something about one of the drunks. The one that passed by closest to where she was walking.”

  “What about him?”

  “She says he was extremely good-looking. Like a movie star,” he said.

  “Thom.” I didn’t have to ask. “It was Thom.”

  “She ID’d his photo.”

  “So Thom was one of the men carrying Bill that night.” I paused in the middle of biting into my cheeseburger. “Do you know who the other one was?”

  “Not yet. But we’ll get Thom to tell us.”

  “If you can find him.”

  “Oh, we’ll find him. Here. I brought you a hot apple pie.” He handed me the tissue-wrapped treat.

  “I’ll split it with you,” I said, cutting it in half with a plastic knife. “Kelly says Jonathan Wilson was over looking around Greene’s Tavern early this morning.”

  “I have an appointment with him this afternoon,” he said. “Wilson’s found some old surveyor’s maps of all the properties along the waterfront. If Duke is right about Wilson’s map showing underground tunnels, they might match up somehow.”

  “You never told me what you’re looking for there.”

  “It’s kind of a cold case thing your friend Friedrich is working on.”

  “So did you talk to Megan yet?”

  “Only on the phone. I’d like to show her the surveyor’s map first to see if that will help her locate the tunnel entrance,” he said. “She sounds old. Really old.”

  “She’s quite blind, too,” I said. “I don’t know how useful a map is going to be.”

  “She says she can see close up with her glasses pretty well. It’s worth a try, anyway. I have to head back to the station.” He looked up. “Might want to put the top up. Clouds moving in from the nor’east.”

  “I’ll take your advice on that. Let me know if you hear anything about Thom, will you?”

  “Sure. I’ll call you tonight.” He dashed across the parking lot to his own car while I put the top up on mine.

  Caffeine had improved Duke’s attitude and appearance, and Kelly, Primrose, and Therese had returned from lunch smiling, with shopping bags from a nearby boutique. So when Tabby director Pennington dropped in for a surprise visit, the mood in the room was upbeat.

  “I have a wonderful surprise for you and your students, Ms. Barrett,” he said, beaming, “though I see that one has not yet returned from the noon repast.” The smile lessened slightly. “No matter. You can relay my message to the tardy one.”

  “I’m sure he’ll be back soon, Mr. Pennington,” I said, hoping I was right and
trying not to worry too much about Sammy. Hopefully, he was just skipping class, but with everything going on lately . . .

  “There’s exciting news for all of us here at the Tabitha Trumbull Academy.” A dramatic pause, while he made eye contact with each person. “Tomorrow night a professional television crew will be on the premises to record a milestone in paranormal reality TV programming—”

  Therese’s happy squeal interrupted his speech. “Is it the one River North talked about last night on the show? Oh, my God! That’s fabulous!”

  “Yes, my dear. Miss North is somewhat involved.” He cleared his throat. “At the stroke of midnight tomorrow night there will be a gathering of some of our Wiccan friends on the upper floor of this very building. Thousands of viewers will see an actual attempt to contact the departed spirit of our own Tabitha Trumbull.”

  “Will we be there?” Kelly wanted to know. “It’s kind of part of our project.”

  “There will be a few invited guests on the actual set,” he said, “and yes, of course, this class will be among them.”

  “I don’t believe in ghosts,” Duke stated flatly. “And I don’t believe in witches, either. Do I have to go to it? Anyway, I have a night job.”

  Mr. Pennington looked surprised. “No one is required to attend. You may be excused if you wish.” He made a small bow in my direction. “Ms. Barrett, I’ll have complete information for you later in the day. Good afternoon to you all.” He hurried to the elevator, turned, and waved. “Carry on,” he said, stepped inside and the door slid closed behind him.

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” Primrose said. “Are they really going to film up there in her room? We haven’t even seen it yet.”

  “I know,” I said. “I’m sorry. I wanted you all to see it together.”

  “Hey, where’s Sammy, anyway?” Duke looked around the room.

  “He’s supposed to be out looking for you,” Kelly said. “I think he’s just skipping class. Too nice a day.”

  “Gee, first Thom disappeared, and now Sammy’s gone,” Therese said. “There’s something totally weird about this place.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “I just love it.”

  By then we’d all slipped out of study mode, so books were re-shelved and the conversation was all about the upcoming ghost hunt. I debated whether or not to announce that Thom had gone missing again, and decided to delay the bad news. After all, it had become a real police matter and was no longer just a case of a mixed-up runaway kid. And maybe, with luck, they’d have Thom back in Salem by the end of the day.

  “How do the witches do it?” Kelly wanted to know. “Is it like a séance, or do they chant magic words or what? Therese, you bought all those witch books. What are they going to do?”

  “I watch those ghost shows on TV all the time,” Primrose said. “I think they set up special cameras and microphones and look for orbs and try to record voices from dead people.”

  “Witches don’t need cameras and recorders.” Therese dismissed such technology with a wave of one well-manicured hand. “They each have their own gifts, and when they work together as a coven, the power can be enormous. I can hardly wait to see what will happen.”

  “Will we be on camera at all when the witches are doing . . . whatever witches do?” Kelly wanted to know. “I mean, what are we supposed to wear?”

  The talk among the women turned to casual versus dressy dark colors and then to light versus regular stage makeup. Duke sat behind the news desk, looking bored, and took his phone out of his pocket.

  “Hey, you guys,” he said. “I just got a text from Sammy. He’s coming back.” He laughed. “Says he’s been looking for me all this time. Checked every bar on Derby Street. Good excuse, huh?”

  My own phone vibrated. I peeked at the caller ID. It was a text from Pete.

  Call me when you get a chance.

  I tapped in OK and slipped the phone back into my pocket.

  “Maybe there’ll be some information about proper attire in Mr. Pennington’s instructions,” I said. “If not, I’d say wear whatever you like. But I warn you, it’s dusty up there. Dirty, actually, so white is out of the question.”

  “Except for the ghost,” Therese said.

  “Of course,” I said. “Except for Tabitha.”

  It was nearly an hour later when Sammy sauntered into the room, wearing a Boston University sweatshirt, and took his regular seat at the table.

  “Hi, guys,” he said. “What’s new?”

  “It’s about time, man,” Duke said. “You left me alone all day with these women, talkin’ about clothes and witches and ghosts and shit. And me with a king-size hangover.”

  “I like your shirt,” Kelly said.

  “Thanks. Had to change. Somebody spilled a beer on my jacket,” Sammy said. “What’s all this about ghosts and witches? What did I miss?”

  “We’re almost famous,” Therese said. “We’re going to be on TV. River North’s show. The witches are going to contact the ghost of that lady in white who haunts this place. Awesome, huh?”

  “Who’s River North? And when is all this supposed to happen?”

  “Tomorrow night.” I gave him a brief rundown on what Mr. Pennington had told us, and Therese added details about River’s show and Wiccan practices.

  “I’m not goin’,” Duke told him. “You don’t have to, either. It’s all a load of hocus-pocus crap.”

  The clock above the news desk showed 4:45 p.m. “It’s nearly five,” I said. “I think I’ll dismiss you a little early. I want to check with Mr. Pennington about the information he promised.”

  All of that was true, but I was also anxious to find out what Pete wanted. As soon as the classroom had cleared, I called him. He picked up on the first ring.

  “I got your message,” I said. “Is anything wrong?”

  “I hope not. Have you heard anything from Jonathan Wilson?”

  “No. Why?” I asked. “I thought you had a meeting scheduled with him.”

  “That’s just it. He never showed. I called his wife, and she says he left early this morning, before she was awake, and they haven’t seen him at city hall all day.”

  People keep disappearing around here. Thom’s gone missing twice. Now Wilson. Bill was missing for a while, and that certainly didn’t turn out well.

  “Kelly says he was at the Greenes’ early this morning. It was about that map and the number six on the house, I think.”

  “Already checked with Joe Greene. Last time he saw Wilson was when he left to drive Kelly to school. Says he stopped to pick up some groceries, and Wilson was gone when he got back. Hasn’t seen him since.”

  “I wonder if the councilor contacted Mr. Pennington. Do you want me to check with him?”

  “I’d rather you checked with Primrose. Seems there was an affair some years ago, and Mrs. Wilson knows all about it. She thinks maybe it’s on again.”

  “Oh, boy. That could be awkward.”

  “I’ll do it if you don’t want to. Just seems it would be easier on Primrose if you ask her if she knows where he is, instead of it being like a police interrogation.”

  “You’re right,” I said. “I’ve already dismissed everybody, but she’s probably still in the building.”

  “Thanks, Lee. Did I ever tell you you’d make a good cop?”

  “Once or twice. I’ll let you know what she says. Anything on Thom yet?”

  “It won’t be long before we find him. He landed in Boston early this morning. We’re not the only ones looking for him. Agent Friedrich from the Treasury ID’d him from a photo taken at a coin show. Seems he sold a marked twenty-dollar gold piece to a dealer. The Treasury’d like to know where he got it.”

  “Thom did? A twenty-dollar gold piece?”

  Another coincidence? I don’t think so.

  “That’s right,” he said. “Didn’t you tell me that twenty-dollar gold pieces had something to do with the documentary your class is making?”

  “I did say that. I still think they do
. I just haven’t figured out exactly how. I never connected Thom with gold, though. What a mess. I’m glad I didn’t tell anybody here that he left Mira’s apartment,” I said. “They were all so excited about the ghost-hunting thing, I didn’t want to destroy the mood. Did you know they’re doing it here tomorrow night?”

  “I heard all about it at city hall. Seems Wilson personally walked Pennington through the permitting process yesterday.”

  “They need permits for ghost hunting?”

  “Sure,” he said. “It’s a public building. You need permits for everything. Insurance too.”

  “Kelly said that her dad chased Wilson away from that wall next to the tavern because of insurance,” I told him.

  “Could be,” he said. “It’s muddy out there. If Wilson slipped and fell, it would be Joe’s liability. I’ll ask him about it.”

  “You might want to come to the witch thing,” I told him. “Megan will probably be here, and maybe you can show her that surveyor’s map you have.”

  “Good idea. Thanks, Lee.”

  “You’re welcome. I’ll talk to Primrose and call you back.”

  I set out to hunt for Primrose, hoping she wouldn’t turn up missing, too. Happily, all it took was a phone call to locate her. She answered on the first ring.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Primrose. It’s me. Lee Barrett.”

  “Oh. I was expecting someone else. What can I do for you, Lee?”

  “I’d rather not discuss it over the phone,” I said. “Are you still in the building?”

  “In my room, but I may have to leave in a hurry. Expecting a call.”

  “May I come up for a minute? It’s important,” I said. “And I think you should know, Thom’s gone missing again.”

  “I’ve heard about Thom,” she said. “Mira called. She’s really pissed. He went off and left her cat all alone. Didn’t even leave a note. Last time I give that ungrateful little twerp a friend’s phone number.”

  She gave me the number of her dorm room, and I took the elevator to the third floor. I hadn’t seen the inside of the dorm since the students had moved in. Primrose’s room was neat and attractive, with a colorful bedspread and matching draperies. A framed photo of the U.S. Capitol building during cherry blossom season hung on the wall. Primrose sat on the edge of the single bed and motioned for me to sit in the only chair. She was dressed once again in the pin-striped pantsuit, and her purse was next to her on the pillow.