Witchy Possessions (Witchy Fingers Book 3)

by Nic Saint

I shrugged. It was a little difficult to explain to Sam that Valerie was possessed by a ghoul that had forced her to murder Skip. He would probably not appreciate that answer. So instead I said, “She was facing some personal demons after her marriage failed, and needed someone to give her support.”

  “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I thought you were into security stuff?”

  “Yes, we are,” I confirmed.

  “So who were you protecting Valerie from? Her husband?”

  We shared a look of concern. We couldn’t very well accuse Valerie’s husband when we didn’t even know the man. On the other hand, what were we going to tell Sam? The truth?

  “She came to us for help,” Edelie said carefully. “She’d been having a… nervous breakdown.”

  “Yes, she wasn’t feeling well,” said Estrella, continuing vaguely.

  “But you’re not shrinks,” Sam said with a frown. “Why come to you?”

  “She thought someone was targeting her,” I finally admitted.

  His eyebrows rose. “Someone was targeting her?”

  “Yes. She didn’t feel safe. She was sure that she was being stalked by someone, and wanted us to find out who was behind it.”

  Sam shared a grim look with Pierre. “I can tell you who was behind it. Her husband Alex Knuckles. They were going through a brutal divorce and he wanted custody of Sofia.”

  “I guess now he’ll get what he wanted,” said Pierre.

  “I thought Sofia was with social services?” I asked.

  “For now, but if Valerie is charged with murder and prosecuted, she will go to the nearest kin, obviously.” Sam grimaced. “It’s more than likely that Alex Knuckles will get exactly what he wanted.”

  “Well, not exactly,” said Pierre. “He seems to truly love his wife, Sam.”

  “Yes, that’s true,” Sam allowed, directing a quick look at Edelie at this. “Anyway, let’s get back to Skip Brown. You said he was babysitting?”

  “That’s right, Gran sent him home because… she had other stuff to do.”

  “Other stuff, huh? Like what?”

  Like telling us off for making that huge blimp appear in Central Park, I thought, but didn’t tell him, of course. “Um, just some family stuff.”

  Sam gave me a curious look. “Would this ‘family stuff’ have anything to do with the big number that was written across the guy’s forehead?”

  “Oh, that was just a joke,” said Edelie.

  “A joke?” asked Sam gravely. It was obvious he didn’t think it was funny.

  “Yes, just a little thing between Skip and us,” I said, and felt my lip starting to tremble again. How was it possible that we’d just been drinking coffee with Skip one hour ago and now he was dead? This was terrible!

  Sam stared at us for a moment, then said, “I’m sure we’ll have more questions for you later on, but that’s it for now.” Then he added, in a softer tone, “My condolences. It’s obvious you were very fond of that young man.”

  “Yes, we were,” I said, trying to stem the tears that were forming behind my eyes.

  “He was a great guy,” said Estrella softly, now sniffling openly.

  “And a great baker,” added Pierre, holding up his croissant. The man was simply unflappable, and in spite of myself I had to admire that quality in him.

  We walked out of the parlor just in time to see two EMTs passing by, carrying a body on a gurney. It was Skip, I knew, though his body was covered with a sheet. Just then, the first man tripped lightly and almost dropped the gurney.

  The sheet shifted, and we were afforded a brief glimpse at Skip’s face. And that’s when I saw it. A big, fat number two was written on his forehead.

  I gasped in shock, and Sam barked, “Get him out of here, you morons!” He placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

  “No, that’s all right,” I said, staring at the gurney as it was carried away.

  Edelie and Estrella had seen it, too, and we shared a look of surprise.

  The murdered Skip… was one of Skip’s clones!

  Chapter 13

  If this Skip was a clone, where was the real Skip? There was only one person who’d know and that person was Gran. And as I went in search of her, I noticed that a section of the garden was cordoned off with yellow crime scene tape, a chalk outline indicating where Skip’s body had been found.

  It might have been a clone who was murdered, but it was still a crime, and Valerie was still going to be prosecuted. The thought occurred to me she would need a good attorney, and the name of my former boss came to mind. Spear Boodle might be willing to act as her legal defense.

  I found Gran in the back of the garden, deftly snipping away at a bush of hydrangeas as if she hadn’t a care in the world. But I knew better, of course.

  Whenever Gran is feeling out of sorts, she works in her garden. The work soothes her, and makes the trouble go away. It also gives her new ideas.

  “Gran,” I said, walking up to her. “Did you know that Skip was a clone?”

  “Of course I did,” she said primly. “Why else do you think I sent him?”

  “But… where is the real Skip?” I asked.

  “Safe and sound at home in Happy Bays,” she said, “where he’s supposed to be. The moment I sent Skip’s clone here, I sent the original Skip home.”

  “But… won’t he find it strange when he reads in the papers he’s dead?”

  “Well, I’m sure he’ll be able to sort all that out with the police when the time comes. Besides… they’ll need a body to prove Skip is dead, won’t they?”

  “They have a body. They just walked out with it.” I pointed at the house.

  She snapped her fingers once, then said, “Oh, no, they don’t.”

  I heard a distinct pop, and then startled cries from the EMTs carrying the gurney. I had the distinct impression that Skip’s clone had just popped off, like the others had done back in Central Park.

  Gran sighed. “I had to be sure whether Valerie was a genuine menace or not. And the only way to do that was to sacrifice one of Skip’s clones.” She shook her head. “I never thought she would surrender herself so completely to this ghoul.”

  “But you knew she was a menace, so why did you expose Skip 2 to her?”

  “Like I said, I was unsure about the extent of her exposure to the ghoul. Now it’s obvious the monster has completely taken control of her. I’m afraid the matter is out of my hands now, dear.”

  I stared at her. “Out of your hands? What do you mean?”

  “I mean that Valerie is beyond my help. She’s on her own now.”

  “But… but that’s impossible. You’re Cassandra Beadsmore. There has to be something you can do.”

  “The only thing that can be done is to determine who put that ghoul inside her and break the connection. Whoever saddled her up with that monster is still pulling the strings, making her do these terrible, terrible things.”

  “Someone made her kill Skip?”

  Gran nodded. “Of course. Someone wanted Valerie out of the way, either by having her kill herself, or by killing another person. Either way she’ll go away.” She fixed me with a grave expression. “Someone wants Valerie Gabby gone, dear. Either dead or accused of murder and sentenced to life in prison.”

  “Her husband,” I said. “Sam told us he wants custody of Sofia. With Valerie in jail he’ll get what he wants.”

  “Possibly,” Gran allowed. “But that’s for you to find out, isn’t it?”

  “For us to find out? But I thought you…”

  “No,” said Gran determinedly. “Valerie is your client, dear. She came to you for help. Now it’s up to you and your sisters to figure out who’s doing this to her and sever the connection. The ghoul will be powerless and ultimately leave her body when the connection with its master is destroyed. Find whoever is doing this to her and you can save her. If you don’t… I’m afraid Valerie will slowly be consumed by the ghoul and ultimately die.”

>   The prospect was a dreadful one, as was the notion that Valerie’s fate now rested in the hands of my sisters and me. “But Gran, can’t you…”

  “No. Valerie is your responsibility now, and your responsibility alone.” And at this, she snapped her garden shears with a finality I knew meant she’d said her final word on the matter and wouldn’t reconsider. Then she added, more kindly, “I know you can do it, dear. I have complete faith in you.”

  I grimaced at this. It was a small comfort. First we’d messed up Skip’s life by turning him into a clone and having one of his clones murdered, and now one of our clients was accused of murder. How much worse could things get?

  I guess I would soon find out…

  Chapter 14

  “At least Skip’s not dead,” said Estrella, who was over the moon when I told my sisters about my conversation with Gran.

  “Yes, but I wonder what the police will think when they find out he’s alive and well, and that the body they just carted out of the house is gone.”

  Strel shrugged. “Sam will deal with it. He’s a big boy.”

  “Sam looked fine, didn’t he?” asked Edelie softly. We were in a cab, on our way to Petunia Hudson’s place, and she was staring before her dreamily.

  “Sam always looks fine,” I told her.

  “That man was born fine,” Estrella agreed.

  Petunia had left a garbled message on my phone, asking to see us as soon as possible. From what I could make out she was in some kind of trouble.

  “Did you talk to Sam?” I asked. “I mean, privately?”

  Edelie shook her head. “What could we possibly talk about? The man’s simply not interested in me. He made that perfectly clear last time we met.”

  “Judging from the way he was looking at you I think you’re wrong about that, Edie,” said Estrella.

  She looked up sharply. “You think so?”

  “I agree,” I added my voice to the chorus. “I think he still has feelings for you.”

  She shook her head adamantly. “Still has feelings would mean he had feelings for me in the first place, and I know for a fact that he never did. Do you know that he never even kissed me after our first date? Our first and last date, I should add,” she said bitterly.

  “Well, not all men kiss a girl after the first date,” I said. Though to my recollection they did. I hadn’t had a lot of dating experience, to be honest, but it seemed like a good assumption, based on what I’d heard from others.

  “So what did he do?” asked Estrella.

  “He just stood there, goggling at me like a fish, and then he nodded and said, ‘See you, Edie,’ and stalked off with his hands shoved into his pockets.”

  “Not very romantic,” Estrella agreed.

  “No, that doesn’t sound like a man consumed by the holy fire of love.”

  The kind of Prince Charming I had in mind for myself wouldn’t simply tell me, ‘See you, Stien,’ and pop off. He would sweep me up into his arms and kiss me senseless, all while whispering sweet nothings into my ear.

  And then we’d be lost to space and time and the world around us, in our own private little bubble of red-hot passion. I heaved a wistful sigh. There was only one man who’d ever touched my heart like that and that was Spear Boodle. Well, and Sam, to some extent, of course, but then I imagine every girl who met Sam fell for the stalwart policeman. He was yummy, after all.

  But after Sam seemed to favor Edie with his attentions, I’d quickly backed away slowly and decided that if it was Edie Sam wanted, it was Edie Sam would get. Until it appeared he’d never wanted Edie after all, which led me to believe Sam might not be all that he was cracked up to be.

  “You just forget about him, honey,” said Estrella now.

  “Easier said than done,” grunted Edie.

  “You still have feelings for him, don’t you?” I asked. She stared at me, and I quickly closed my mouth. “You’re right. None of my business,” I added and locked my lips with an imaginary key and threw it out the window of the moving cab.

  “Maybe we should put a spell on Sam?” Estrella suggested now. “Add a little fuel to the fire?”

  “No!” said Edelie sharply. “We’re not putting any spells on Sam. If he doesn’t want me I don’t want to make him. It’s just not right, Strel.”

  “Suit yourself,” said Estrella cheerfully, waving a careless hand.

  “What do you think I am? A charity case? If the guy doesn’t want me, I’m not going to make him. That would be below…” She was getting worked up now. “That would simply be a crime against humanity!” she finally spat.

  I shook my head at Estrella. Don’t go there, I wanted to tell her, and either she didn’t get the message, or she simply decided to ignore me, for she now went on, “Just a little love spell, Edie. It wouldn’t make him want you. It would simply fuel what’s already in his heart but he’s afraid to express.”

  “Perhaps Sam does need a little nudge,” I said as gently as I knew how.

  “No, Strel,” warned Edie. “Don’t do it! Don’t you dare!”

  “Well, I won’t, unless you want me to, of course. But Sam is one of those strong silent types. You know the kind. Afraid to show what’s burning in his heart. And I’m sure what’s burning in his heart is his love for you!”

  “He showed me what was burning in his heart clear enough when he walked away from me and never called again,” grumbled Edie. “Bupkis!”

  The cab had arrived in front of the Petunia Hudson residence, and I got out gratefully. All this talk of Sam hadn’t cheered me up. It was hard to see my sister suffering through heartbreak like this, and I had to admit that Estrella had a point. I’d also gotten the impression that Sam was harboring feelings for Edie deeper than mere friendship, and perhaps he simply needed a little… encouragement. But if Edie said no, I wasn’t going to intervene.

  Besides, our spells have a way of backfiring horribly, and we just might turn Sam into a toad. It’s been known to happen before. Although if he were a toad, Edie might kiss him and turn him into her very own Prince Charming, of course. Though with our luck he might turn into an even uglier toad.

  We were admitted into the building by the doorman, who seemed to be expecting us, and rode the elevator to the top of the building, which was the penthouse suite, where Petunia lived. The place was familiar to us now, and didn’t impress us as much as it had the first time.

  Surprisingly, the door to the apartment was ajar, so we pushed inside. We walked past the grand white piano, the wall with all of Petunia’s platinum and gold records and other memorabilia, and marveled at the Jacuzzi, right smack dab in the center of her spacious living room.

  I could just imagine Petunia soaking in it while she watched the gigantic curved TV screen or listened to her own music while sipping from a flute of bubbly. Oh, how the other half lives…

  “Petunia!” Estrella called out. “It’s us. The Flummoxes!”

  But there was no response, so we ventured deeper into the apartment, amazed by the living arrangements of one of the world’s foremost rock stars. Estrella, especially, took this occasion to look around, and even darted a quick look inside the bedroom, just to be sure that Petunia wasn’t there. When she returned, she said excitedly, “She’s got a rotating round bed with a ceiling mirror!”

  “That’s great,” I said, absolutely unimpressed.

  Finally, we heard a voice coming from the back of the apartment.

  “Petunia?” I called out. “Where are you?”

  The sound had come from Petunia’s home gym, which looked out over Central Park. It had a balcony, where she liked to take breakfast, I knew.

  When we hurried inside, she was standing in front of the open French windows, dressed in her gym clothes, and looking at us a little crazy-eyed.

  “Um, Petunia?” I asked. “Are you all right?”

  “Stay away from me!” she shouted, her eyes widening even more and holding up her hand as if in defense. “Not one step closer! I’m warning you
!”

  “But it’s us, Petunia,” Estrella said. “The Flummoxes? You called us.”

  But judging from the way she was looking at us she didn’t seem to recognize us at all. And then I noticed that her eyes were bloodshot, just like Valerie’s had been when she was possessed by that monstrous ghoul.

  “She’s possessed,” I told the others. “Can’t you see? Possessed by a ghoul!”

  “Stay away!” Petunia warned again, waving her hands defensively and moving back toward the open window. “Don’t come any closer or… I’ll…”

  “Let us help you, Petunia,” Estrella pleaded. “Let us…”

  But then Petunia threw her head in her neck and let rip a startling scream that was more impressive than anything she’d ever put on record. And then, before our very eyes, she moved out onto the balcony and… jumped!

  Chapter 15

  “Petunia!” cried Estrella, horrified. “Noooo!”

  We hurried through the window and to the parapet and stared down. Thirty floors below us, Petunia’s body was lying on the pavement, and she wasn’t moving, which wasn’t surprising, after such a horrendous drop.

  “Do you think she’s dead?” asked Edelie.

  “I think that’s a very good assumption,” I muttered.

  “But why?!” cried Estrella. “Why would she do a thing like this?!”

  “Well, she did want to die,” Edelie pointed out.

  “She didn’t want to die!” cried Estrella. “She wanted to live!”

  “And now she won’t,” I said softly. We’d just lost another client.

  “Poor Petunia,” said Edie. “She seemed like such a nice person.”

  “And she had so much to live for,” I added.

  “Oh, my God!” exclaimed Estrella. “This isn’t happening!”

  But it was, and right in front of our eyes, too!

  “I think we better call the police,” I said.

  “I’ll call Sam,” Edelie added, and was quick to take out her phone.

  Before long, she was explaining to Sam how we’d just watched Petunia Hudson jump to her death. If the debacle with Skip Brown’s disappearing body had rattled the detective, he didn’t show it, for when he and Pierre arrived twenty minutes later, an entire squadron of police officers in their wake, he looked as undaunted by the task ahead and capable as ever.