Witchy Possessions (Witchy Fingers Book 3)

by Nic Saint

  “He still wants custody of Sofia?” asked Estrella.

  “Sure he does. Now more than ever. Some idiot at the precinct told him what a nuisance his ex-wife had been, and how she even attacked a guard, and now he’s got fresh ammunition to demand custody.”

  Edelie was still staring at Sam, her eyes burning with an eagerness I’d never seen there before. Or maybe I had. That one time we went to a Bruno Mars concert and she got a glimpse of the guy as he drove by in his limo after the concert. I wondered now if this was the way I stared at Spear Boodle.

  “Sir Rupert has fled to Aruba,” I told Sam.

  “He did?”

  “And he took all of Petunia’s stuff,” added Estrella.

  “Aruba,” mused Pierre. “The man’s got a taste for the good life.”

  “Well, there’s not much we can do about that,” said Sam. “He inherited the whole caboodle from what I heard. So he can do with it whatever he damn well pleases. Nothing criminal or untoward about that.”

  What was criminal was that he planted a ghoul inside both Petunia and Valerie, but we couldn’t very well tell Sam that, of course.

  “So where’s Valerie?” asked Sam, looking up at the house. Then, to his surprise, suddenly a face appeared in a window on the second floor. It was Valerie’s face, but it was so contorted it was hardly recognizable as hers.

  “You found her,” Estrella said cheerfully.

  “What the hell…” grunted Sam. Valerie was snarling at us, baring her teeth like a rabid dog about to attack, and she was clawing at the window.

  “What did you guys do to her?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” said Edelie. “This is how she’s been the entire time.”

  “She looks like something from a horror movie,” said Pierre. “Reminds me of those Amityville movies, actually.”

  “Our house is hardly like the Amityville house,” I said, slightly offended.

  “Perhaps not, but it does have a certain… aura. I’ll bet Alfred Hitchcock would have approved of a house guest like Valerie Gabby.”

  We all stared up at Valerie, as she stared down at us as if ready to kill.

  “Ghouls,” said Edelie as she rocked Sofia in her arms. “Don’t like them.”

  “What’s that?” asked Sam, transferring his gaze from Valerie to Edie.

  “Um, rules. I don’t like them,” she quickly corrected.

  He gave her a look of bewilderment, and she gave him a big smile in return. Sam seemed mesmerized by the sight of Edelie carrying a baby in her arms, and for a moment he was lost to the world. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Apparently the sight of Edie with a baby affected Sam just as powerfully as the sight of him with Sofia affected her.

  Pierre offered a slight smile as he caught sight of the rare tableau, and then clapped his partner on the back. “Time to go, Sam. We’ve got criminals to catch and crimes to solve, remember?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, of course,” Sam said a little absently, his eyes still riveted on Edelie. As he got into the car, he pointed up at the house, and warningly said, “Fix Valerie!” He slammed the door, and then the two detectives rode off.

  Chapter 27

  Once inside, we decided to organize a meeting. So we sat down at the kitchen table with Skip, after entrusting baby Sofia to Gran, who was more than happy to take her off our hands.

  “We have to fix this,” I said, echoing Sam’s words. “Nobody else will.”

  “But how?” asked Estrella. “Sir Rupert is the legal heir to the Petunia millions. She wrote the will herself. There’s nothing we can do about that.”

  “He may be the legal heir, but he’s also a murderer,” I pointed out. “He killed Petunia, and he’s killing her daughter, robbing Sofia of her mother.”

  “He should be in prison,” agreed Edelie.

  “Which is where he’s never going to be,” Skip said as he checked a bag of Brown’s bakery that was left on the table. “What?” he asked when we all looked at him. “The guy put ghouls inside Petunia and Valerie, but that’s not exactly a crime, is it? Sam will never arrest him on suspicion of… ghouling.”

  No, that was definitely true. People didn’t get arrested and sentenced to prison because they afflicted others with ghouls or demons. Not in this world.

  “I wonder how he managed,” I said now. “He didn’t strike me as a guy who likes to dabble in black magic.”

  “Me neither,” said Edelie.

  “He could have had help,” Estrella said.

  “Who?” I asked. “We went through the list. They all checked out.”

  “We have to ask Petunia,” Edelie suggested. “She knows Rupert. He’s her lifelong friend. If he dabbled in black magic somehow, she would know.”

  “Where is Petunia?” asked Estrella, searching around.

  “Still in her apartment, probably,” said Edelie. “It must be hard to let go.”

  “Yeah, I guess it is. Poor woman,” said Estrella, shaking her head.

  “She had it coming,” said Skip, who seemed less shaken by Petunia’s fate. “She should never have cut her daughter from her will. If she hadn’t, Rupert wouldn’t have had a leg to stand on.”

  “On the contrary,” I said. “It’s probably after Petunia told him she wanted to include Valerie in her will again, that he set these events in motion.”

  “We need to save Valerie. She won’t last much longer,” said Edelie.

  “First we need to find out who put that ghoul inside her,” said Estrella.

  It was obvious we needed to summon Petunia, so summon the rock star we did. A simple bellow soon brought her to us, and she joined the meeting.

  “I was back at the apartment,” she explained as she streaked down and took center stage, like the star she was. She hovered in the middle of the kitchen table, her torso sticking out, using the table as her stage. She shook her head forlornly. “It’s all gone. They emptied the place, and a realtor already dropped by. I could hear him discussing the price of the place. His client is Rupert, of course.” She dramatically raised her arms to the sky. “How could I have been so wrong about that man! He totally fooled me!”

  “Petunia, focus,” I said now, tapping the table sharply. “Who do you think Rupert roped into this whole ghoul business? He must have had help.”

  She did focus, a thought wrinkle appearing on her brow.

  “Someone who’s into black magic? Um, a fortune teller he used to visit? Or maybe a tarot reader or something?” asked Edelie helpfully.

  Petunia shook her head. “Rupie was never into that kind of stuff. And I would know, because I kept telling him to visit my own fortune teller.”

  “You told him to visit a fortune teller?” I asked. “Why?”

  She shrugged. “Why not? She helped me, so I just figured he might find her useful, too. Madame Bee was one of the reasons for my success, I’m sure. I went to see her at least once a month. She cleansed me of negative energy—it’s amazing how much negative energy you pick up in this business.”

  “Who’s this Madame Bee?” asked Estrella. “Do you have her full name?”

  “Beatrix Yeast,” said Petunia. “But she likes to call herself Madame Bee.”

  Chapter 28

  “Gran!” we all yelled, and Gran instantly came rushing in.

  “What?” she asked. She was still carrying Sofia, who was as sweet a baby as I’d ever seen. She seemed perfectly comfortable in Gran’s arms, as if she was right at home. I remembered the feeling from when I was little.

  “Beatrix Yeast,” I said, as Gran’s eyes momentarily fixed on Petunia. “She was Petunia’s fortune teller!”

  “Yes, Beatrix does dabble in magic,” Gran confirmed. “She’s very good at it, too. Though she never figured out I was actually a witch,” she added with a light chuckle. “In all the years we worked together, she never once realized why our flowers never wilted, and why our store was always full of customers, even when the competition had trouble keeping the wolf from the door. She
used to take the credit herself, of course. Claimed she had the third eye, and drew only good things to her. A lot of poppycock, of course.”

  “Do you think Beatrix could have put those ghouls in Petunia and Valerie?” asked Edelie.

  Gran gave her a thoughtful look. “She might have,” she finally acknowledged. “She always had a mercenary streak.”

  I shared a look with my sisters. “What about this: Rupert went to visit Madame Bee, and they hit it off together. And then a plan quickly developed: she would curse Petunia and Valerie, and they would both reap the rewards.”

  “We have to find her,” Edelie said, getting up.

  “Yes, let’s have a little chat with ‘Madame Bee,’” Estrella said.

  “Oh, but that’s not necessary, dear,” said Gran now, rocking Sofia in her arms and making soft cooing noises.

  “Why?” I asked. “Because she’s a friend of yours?”

  “No, dear. Because she’s at the front door right now. Visiting Valerie.”

  And sure enough, even before Gran had finished her sentence, the doorbell rang, and we all looked up in surprise. Except for Gran, of course.

  “That must be her now,” she said. “I’ll just let her into the parlor, shall I?”

  And still cooing to Sofia, she left the kitchen, leaving us all stunned by this new revelation.

  “We have to make her talk,” said Edelie, striking her fist in the palm of her hand. She sounded like Liam Neeson in those Taken movies, when he gets tough with the bad guys who kidnapped his kid. “We have to make her spill the beans one way or another.” She directed a quick look at Petunia. “Can’t you, like, haunt her or something? Scare the living daylights out of her?”

  “Haunt her?” asked Petunia, horrified. “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know, just scare her. Make her wish she were dead.”

  “Just make her talk,” explained Estrella. “Sing like a canary.”

  And now we were in Mob territory. Petunia still looked doubtful. “I don’t know. I’ve never actually haunted anyone before. This is all new to me.”

  “How hard can it be?” asked Skip. “You’re a rock star, Petunia. Just think of this as a live performance. You’re just putting on a big show.”

  “Everything depends on you now,” I told her. “If we can’t make Beatrix talk, your daughter is going to die a gruesome death!” No pressure.

  “Yes, this is the woman who cursed you,” Edelie reminded her. “And Valerie. If we don’t make her talk Sofia is going to be motherless.”

  “Oh, God,” said Petunia, her face falling. “This is all my fault, isn’t it? I sent Rupert to Madame Bee, and cut my own daughter from my will. I set this all up. If not for me, none of this would ever have happened!”

  “You’re absolutely right,” I said a little harshly. But she needed to see how important this was, and to realize the consequences of what she’d done.

  A resolute look stole over Petunia’s face. “I will haunt her,” she announced solemnly. “In fact I’ll make her wish she were never born!”

  With this, she streaked from the room, and we followed on a slight trot.

  Gran returned from the parlor, and gave us a knowing look. “I told her Valerie isn’t doing well, and you are going to give her an update on her situation. She’s worried sick about her very dear friend,” she added, pursing her lips disapprovingly. It was obvious that Gran wasn’t as fond of her friend as she used to be.

  When we stepped into the parlor we weren’t prepared to see the blubbering mess that was Beatrix Yeast. She was an attractive woman, but now her eyes were red, her face wet with tears, and she was blowing her nose like a trumpet. “Oh, dear,” she said when we came in. “Cassie just told me about Valerie.” She shook her head. “It’s terrible! Just plain terrible!”

  “Yes, it is,” I agreed as I took a seat across from her. I wondered if she was playing games or if she was really as distraught as she looked.

  “And poor little Sofia,” she said, shaking her head and dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. “First that ghastly divorce, and now her mother in this terrible state. How much more can a person possibly endure?”

  A lot more, apparently, if this ghoul was left unchecked.

  I heard stomping sounds above us, and knew that Valerie was stirring upstairs. Perhaps she was aware that her traitorous friend was down here.

  I decided to grab the bull by the horns. “We think Valerie has been cursed,” I said, watching the woman’s response keenly.

  She looked up, startled. “What? Cursed? Whatever do you mean?”

  “Someone cursed your ‘very dear friend,’ Beatrix,” Edelie confirmed. “She’s possessed by a ghoul, who’s making her do horrible things.”

  “And if we don’t save her, she’s going to die,” added Estrella laconically.

  “Oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear,” lamented Beatrix. “This is just terrible! If only I’d known…”

  “If only you’d known what?” I asked, immediately latching onto this.

  “If only I’d known that it would all lead to this, I’d never have done it.” She was rocking back and forth now, hugging herself and staring into space.

  Just then, a creepy voice sounded behind her. It sounded like tree branches creeping along a blackboard. When I looked up, I saw that it was Petunia, scratching her nails along Gran’s chest of drawers. “Confess, you horrible monster!” she hissed. “Confess now or forever hold your peace!”

  The words were perhaps not exactly right for the occasion, but their effect on Beatrix was immediate. She shrieked in horror and shock, and stared at Petunia’s ghost, suddenly popping out in front of her.

  “Pe-petunia?” asked Beatrix when she caught sight of her. “Is that you?”

  “Dammit! How did you recognize me?” asked Petunia, disappointed.

  “But you’re—you’re dead!” stammered Beatrix.

  “Of course I’m dead.” She pointed an accusatory finger at the fortune teller. “Because you cursed me, you wretched woman!”

  Beatrix was shaking her head. “No. No, I swear. I never wanted this. You have to believe me! I didn’t know this would happen!”

  Petunia, who was starting to get the hang of this haunting thing, now streaked forward until she was face to face with Beatrix. “You did this to me! You made me jump and now I’m dead and my daughter is about to suffer the same fate!”

  “Oh, God,” cried Beatrix, her face twisted in agony. “Yes! Yes, it was me! But I thought I was doing you a favor!”

  “A favor!” bellowed Petunia. “You have a weird idea of favors!”

  “When Sir Rupert asked me, he said this was all part of your new project. Your new album and your new tour! He never said you were gonna die!”

  “What new album? What new tour?” asked Petunia. “There is no tour.”

  Beatrix licked her lips. “He said you were working on a concept album, focused on black magic. But before you could write it, you needed to be inspired. He wanted me to give you a taste of dark magic, so you could write your best stuff. So he convinced me to curse you. He said that it was the only way to save your career, which was floundering.”

  “My career was never floundering!” Petunia protested, deeply offended. “It’s true that I didn’t have the big numbers I used to have, but that goes for all of us in the music industry. I made my millions, Bee. I was ready to retire.”

  “Well, he said your sales numbers were dwindling, and your record company was dropping you. He said nobody was into rock music these days. The kids all want rap and hip-hop and R&B. Rihanna, Beyoncé, Ariana Grande… Nobody’s interested in Petunia Hudson anymore. So he wanted your next album to be a big smash. And your next tour, of course.”

  “That… bastard!” cried Petunia, balling her fists and shaking them at the ceiling, as if that’s where Rupert was now residing.

  “But what about Valerie?” asked Estrella. “Why would you curse her?”

  “Rupert said that Valerie
was joining her mother on stage,” Beatrix said with a shrug. “That it was going to be the highlight of the evening, and that the two of you were going to do a duet. You’d write a song especially for her.”

  “Valerie can’t even sing!” cried Petunia.

  “He said she was taking singing lessons,” said Beatrix forlornly. “Though when she stayed with me, and I asked her about it, she was evasive.”

  “Of course. It was probably the first she heard about it,” said Edelie.

  “I just thought she was being secretive,” said Beatrix. “After all the trouble she went through with Alex, I thought this was her big break. Her chance to shine and to make something of herself. To be a real star, just like her mother. So I cursed both her and Petunia with the most horrible ghoul I could conjure up, knowing that it would be the inspiration you needed to make it big again. To get right on top and be a star again.”

  “Don’t keep saying that!” cried Petunia! “I was always a star!”

  “You did tell me your last hit was ages ago, remember?” Beatrix asked.

  But when Petunia eyed her as malevolently as any ghoul would, she winced. The dead rock star was now face to face with her. “You get this ghoul out of my daughter and you get it out of her now! I’m not kidding, Bee!”

  “B-b-but I-I can’t,” she stuttered, wringing her hands in despair.

  “You can’t what?” asked Petunia dangerously.

  “I can’t remove the ghoul! I’m not a witch. I’m just a fortune teller who picked up a couple of tricks over the years. I’m not very skilled. I… I tried to remove the ghoul when I saw how much Valerie was suffering, and I was starting to feel that perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea after all. But it was too late. I could see her getting worse and worse, so I decided to bring her here, because…” She bit her lip, darting an anxious glance at me.

  “Because what?” I asked.

  She cast down her eyes, avoiding Petunia’s angry glare. “Because I know that Cassie isn’t a regular person. She’s… she’s a witch. A genuine witch.”