Murder Casts Its Spell
Page 20
He clasped my neck and drew me to him for one gentle sweet kiss. The blue light made our skin ghostly.
His eyes held on to me. "Just tell me."
"Ronan hasn't left town. The staff at the circus must have told him that Sal was looking for him. Ronan emailed me to meet him in my office this morning." Ira stared over my shoulder, as if something hovered behind me. I had to tell this just right. "Ronan also tried to lure me to the office."
Ira's amber eyes hardened. "He should leave you alone. You didn't go, did you?"
"I got Jake to take me there so we could see if Sal was okay." I took a deep breath. "That's when unbelievable stuff happened. There was a memorial crystal on the receptionist's desk. The head inside at first looked like Felicia. It activated in a scary way."
Ira frowned. "It exploded?"
"Worse." I gave Ira a version of the spider kill that emphasized the trauma to Sal. "It's not just that Sal is hurt and in the hospital. The worst part is the mental injury. He's an immature kid who cares so much he's easily hurt."
Ira flicked at the blue light. It faded and left us in gloom. "Why doesn't Ronan leave town?"
"He has unfinished business because his crime is a fire he can't put out. I think he killed Mark and traumatized Sal, a vulnerable kid. Not to mention subjecting Jake and me to a nightmare. He's not the man who rescued you when you were messed up like Sal. You have to stop him."
Ira shifted on the bench. "How do you know for sure what he's done? I don't know."
I grabbed his wrist. "Yes, you do. He became a different person when he fell in love with Felicia. He betrayed people who loved him. He cheated on his wife. He lived a lie. That corrodes a person. He's not the man who lives in your head."
"I know he's going to leave town and never come back."
I released him. "He called you?"
"After Kai finished with me, I called him. He said he and Mona would be gone by noon."
I squeezed my hands into fists to keep from grabbing him again. "That's another one of his lies. He didn't tell you about making an appointment with me and Sal?"
"He said he'd always wanted a son like me." Ira gave a dry laugh. "I guess that means he is warped."
"Ira, he has the right feelings for you, but not for others. You have to try to get him to turn himself in. You're the one person he might listen to."
"In his mind, I'm always the screwed-up kid he has to help."
I had to watch the car crush Mark. I had to gut the spider. I needed to push Ira to act. "You show him you're smart and tough. He'll listen to you. I think he's been manipulating everybody. What if he got Mona to lie about Keegan wanting to plead guilty? The shock value confused and distracted you and me."
"That doesn't make sense." Ira flung himself against the wall and stared at the ceiling. "Once his lawyer talked to Keegan, we'd find out he wasn't going to plead guilty."
"Okay, you don't agree with me." My eyes had grown accustomed to the dark. "I understand. I now favor the theory that Keegan's wish to plead guilty is either a lie or a distraction. You tell Ronan you know he was Felicia's lover. Tell him if he's involved in Felicia's and Mark's murders and in hurting Sal, he has to take responsibility. He keeps hurting people. You have to convince him."
"You don't understand what you're asking me to do."
"Yes, I do. Ronan trusts you. You still can reach his good side. You'll find the words in your heart to make him see." I touched his chest. His heart beat wildly, as it did during the shape-shift. "And remember, if he takes off, he creates another victim, Keegan, to die slowly."
"What if he leaves behind something to exonerate Keegan, like a written confession?"
"A written confession would be good, but the actual killer would be better."
Ira lowered his gaze from the ceiling. "Why don't you call him?"
"You're the one who can touch his heartstrings. People don't trust lawyers."
Ira cupped his hands together. A ball of fire appeared, its orange glints reflected in his amber eyes. "Leave me." The piano music, which I'd forgotten, tinkled.
In my room, I told myself I'd done the right thing in using Ira to get Ronan to turn himself in. I opened Loki's book to The Feels Good When It Stops Spell. The title faded and reformed into Loki, who screeched "Cack" and flew around the room before settling on his book. He flipped through it with his beak. "Surcease of sorrow?"
I stretched out on my cement pallet. "Yes, please."
The room darkened. Loki cawed, a raucous sound that made me grit my teeth. As I listened, I found myself anticipating his harsh rhythms. They set to a musical score, the disharmony inside me. I went limp and slept.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
SUNDAY EVENING
"Petra."
Vidoc stood in the doorway to my cell. "Ira's parents are here for a visit. His mother is with him. His dad—he's just back from Europe—wants to talk to you about Keegan's case. Jake says you can use his office."
I followed him to Jake's office, where the TV screens showed students and staff all over the ranch. The office was the only area not recorded on the monitors. In front of Jake's desk was a tall man who was a pinched, narrowed version of Ronan and Keegan Flynn. He had the same curly hair but more silver than black. A frown line divided his forehead.
I shut the door and gestured at the rockers in front of Jake's desk.
"Mr. Flynn, I'm Petra Rakowitz, Keegan's employer and friend. I've been working on his case with the attorney your brother hired, Chris Rollins, but—"
He gripped my hand and, to my surprise, bumped my leg with his. I went limp and collapsed into the rocker, unable to move my arms or legs. Before I could cry out, he brushed my throat with his fingertips. I mouthed words, but no sound emerged. Gaping, I watched him transform into Ronan Flynn. His form and face broadened, and his hair darkened. He looked worn-out, with dark circles under his eyes and deep lines etched around his lips.
Afraid I would stop breathing, I sucked in huge gulps of air. Tears streamed down, and my nose ran.
With a frown, Ronan pulled a handkerchief out and dabbed at my face. "Miss Rakowitz, I'm sorry, but I can't have you crying out or running away. I put a calming spell on your arms, legs, and vocal chords, not your heart or lungs. Breathe normally. I'm not going to hurt you."
I shut my mouth and forced myself to inhale through my nose. Ruby slipped off my arm and hovered in front of me before she perched on my shoulder.
"You already have a familiar. Amazing."
I glared at him. Ruby kneaded her feet into my blouse and fluffed her feathers. She opened her beak, and my voice emerged from her. "Speak."
Ronan slid the other rocker close to me. "I see it's hard to silence a good lawyer. You and your bird are my captive audience." He gripped the arms of my rocker. "I got Ira to admit you talked him into calling me. My wife stayed with him to keep him busy. I'm here to give you a chance to help Keegan. We need to talk, so I'll remove the relax spell. If you try to escape, remember, I'll use it again."
Ruby pecked at his hand when he touched my non-working parts to release me from the spell. He twisted his lips, but didn't flick her away.
I wiggled my fingers and cleared my throat. "Are you going to turn yourself in to the police?"
He didn't answer but instead reached into a briefcase and drew out an envelope, which he handed to me. "I'm concerned that the police won't accept a confession if I mail it to them after I disappear. I want you to read my statement and see if you think it will exonerate Keegan. We don't have a lot of time."
I stared at the handwriting, which resembled printing, its clearly delineated letters barely joined together.
I killed Felicia Morlatti by accident. Monday morning, we got into an argument on the balcony in her bedroom. She threw her phone at me. I flicked out my hand, using a deflect spell to keep the phone from hitting me. I used more power than I intended. The force of the magic knocked Felicia over the balcony and into the yard. I ran outside and saw she was dead, hor
ribly smashed, her neck broken. I couldn't help her by staying. When I left, I did a shape-shift to look younger, no gray hair, smooth skin, not as bulky. That's why the neighbor thought I was Keegan. I never meant for him to be suspected. I accept full responsibility for Felicia Morlatti's death.
I am also responsible for the death of Mark Turner. Since Keegan is not accused in this crime, I do not intend to leave a fuller explanation.
My first reaction was that this confession was as heartfelt as driving directions. That didn't make it unbelievable. Some guys make their confessions in an unemotional way to distance themselves from their bad deeds.
"This statement of yours is sparse on details. I'd suggest adding to it," I said.
Ronan stretched forward until I could feel his breath. "I want to make things right with Ira and Keegan. I'm relying on your legal skills to tell me if this confession will get the charges against Keegan dropped."
After practically hitting me with the car and leaving the spider in my office, he wanted my legal advice for free. I was so angry I could barely think, but this paper might be Keegan's ticket out of jail. I brushed my finger on his signature. "I see you went to a notary to have your signature authenticated. Good idea. What can you do to confirm your identity as Ronan Flynn? You might be Mr. X shape-shifted into Ronan Flynn."
He drew out a knife and flicked it open, the silver blade pointed at me. "Don't tense up. I anticipated your question. I'm going to cut myself, Miss Rakowitz, not you."
His gaze and hand steady, Ronan Flynn sliced across his left palm. Reaching for the confession, he let the cut dribble over his signature. "That's to ensure there are no questions about my identity. I am Ronan Flynn. They can match it with DNA from items in my home."
He put the confession back in my lap. A drop of blood splattered onto my white shorts. I knew I'd never get that stain out. I swallowed and tasted the metal of blood.
Ronan wrapped a handkerchief around his hand. "In your professional opinion, will the police accept my confession as valid?"
Details not covered by the media would help the authenticity. Clothing, surely he'd remember how she was dressed. "What she was wearing?"
He shaded his eyes with the back of his hand. He had thick, large-knuckled fingers. "I don't remember exactly. Some kind of shirt and shorts."
"We need details to bolster your statement." His vagueness irked me. I had to return him to the scene of the crime. "You must've looked down into the yard. What did Felicia's body look like?"
He snatched the paper and added a line beneath his signature. Her head was smashed open. Her legs splayed out.
I frowned at the document when he tossed it back to me. The problem was that the cops and prosecutor could argue I'd provided these details to Ronan from the initial police reports. "We don't have the specifics yet, but the cops found defensive marks on Felicia. They'll assume she struggled with her murderer. You didn't mention a struggle with her. If you could provide details before we get the medical examiner's report, that would help."
"I didn't touch Felicia to hurt her." He grew still as a coiled spring. "It was my magic that pushed her off the balcony. You lie."
"It's true. Jake told me. I know it's embarrassing, but you have to give details. Why would I lie to you? I want the cops to accept your confession. Come on, where did you touch Felicia when you struggled with her?"
He stood stiffly before me and stared at his hands, as if he had written the answer on his palms. If he could admit to killing two people, why couldn't he acknowledge a scuffle?
"Mr. Flynn, just say where you touched her."
He wiped his uninjured hand across his shirt. "I can't." He slumped into the rocking chair.
I gawked at him. "If you can't describe the struggle, that means you didn't kill Felicia."
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
SUNDAY EVENING
A woman slipped into Jake's office. She had the delicate features and wavy blonde hair of Deidre Flynn, Ira and Keegan's mother. She strode across the room and snatched Ronan's confession off my lap. As she read it, her face blurred and reformed into the black brows and eyes of Mona Flynn. The blonde hair darkened. Her lips tight, she looked from the blood-spattered paper to Ronan's cut hand.
While she was distracted, I sidled toward the door.
"You won't get out," Mona called after me. "I put a spell on the door. No one will leave this room until I say so. Sit behind the desk and don't cause any trouble." When I hesitated, she added, "Right now, or I set you on fire."
A pen on the desk burst into flames. I sat.
"What were you going to do with this?" She waved the confession at Ronan. "You weren't supposed to disclose it to anyone until after we disappeared."
He took a step toward her. "On the phone, Ira convinced me I shouldn't leave without doing something to make sure my confession would be accepted. I was going to have Miss Rakowitz check it out and deliver it to the police. She could tell them she got it from me."
"You should have told me you were giving her the confession now." Her voice was low and guttural. "You let me think you were going to talk with her about Keegan's case. When are you going to stop lying to me?"
He grabbed her shoulder. "When did you start lying to me? You never told me about the struggle with Felicia." They glared at each other.
Before Mona could snap back, I intervened. "Mr. Flynn, how could you agree to confess to a crime you didn't commit?"
"To save Keegan, we agreed there had to be a confession." His eyes lit up. "After Mona told me what she did, I saw it was my behavior that drove her to kill Felicia." He shook her. "But you must have known the police would question my confession when I didn't say anything about the struggle with Felicia. Why did you let me make it sound like an accident?"
She wrenched it out of his grasp. "I didn't want you to know how ugly it was. I thought you'd hate me even more. It was bad enough I had to tell you I threw her out the window. Now that this woman knows the truth, it's me who has to send in a confession after we disappear."
I was fed up with their cross-purposes and secrets. "How can you trust her to send in a confession when you're in hiding?"
He turned away from us and stood with his hands on his hips. "Here's the new plan. The last one." He swiveled to Mona. "You write out a confession now." He lifted up his wounded hand as she opened her mouth. "Miss Rakowitz will witness what you write. You will give the confession to me for safekeeping. I'll send it to the police after we're gone. That's the way it has to be, or I won't go with you. Do it now."
Mona sat on a rocker and narrowed her eyes at me. "Give me some paper."
Jake's desk had no drawers. Reaching to the floor, I picked up his backpack and dug around. My fingers encountered stones, paper towels, a comb, bottles, and the collapsible wand. I clutched the wand with one hand while I used the other to open an inner zippered compartment containing paper and pens. I handed a yellow pad to Mona, along with a black pen. I gave the paper towels to Ronan. "Use this to wrap your hand. The handkerchief is already soaked through."
While Mona settled in a chair, Ronan redid his bandage. With the backpack blocking their view and relying on their focus on Mona's confession, I drew out the wand and concealed it on my lap underneath my arm. The second I touched the wand, Ruby disappeared from my shoulder into her tattoo. I wasn't sure the wand would work for me. It couldn't hurt.
Mona wrote as Ronan and I watched intently. Apparently, she was giving us the condensed version because she signed her name halfway down the page.
She handed me the paper. "Are you a notary?"
"No, but I'll sign it as a witness." Reading through the document, I kept the wand covered by my arm.
I, Mona Flynn, killed Felicia Morlatti. We scuffled. I became enraged in the struggle and killed her. I killed Mark Turner because he could tell the police my husband was Felicia's lover. If that happened, her death would be linked to us. I was trying to go away with my husband, but the victim's brother and Keegan's law
yer kept meddling. I distracted them with the crystal ball and the story about Keegan wanting to plead guilty.
She had a lot of nerve to downplay the crystal ball and the spider as a "distraction."
I signed the statement as a witness. "It's a bit sparse and a trifle enigmatic. Let me ask you some questions to clear things up, Mrs. Flynn. If you're going to confess, you might as well do it clearly." I hoped she'd write some more details.
"We don't have forever," Mona snapped. "Ira thinks you're giving us a summary of Keegan's case."
"I'll be succinct. Why did you go to Felicia Morlatti's home?"
"I got a phone call from Ira early Monday. He was confused and excited. I knew he was suffering a breakdown. All I understood was that he'd seen Felicia, and she told him she was going to have Oscar exorcised. I wasn't going to let her get away with it. I'd watched her torture Keegan with those false charges. Now she had traumatized Ira, sending him back into the nightmares of his past. I was going to put a stop to her hurting people."
"What about her affair with your husband?"
"I'm not going to discuss that with you."
I fingered the wand with my sweaty hand. "Why did you assume Keegan's form at her door?"
"It was a mistake. I got her to let me in by assuming my husband's shape. When I left, I tried to take on his shape again, but I was so agitated I ended up looking more like Keegan. I'm not as precise as the Flynns at shape-shifting."
"Let's go back to when you entered using your husband's form."
"She laughed as soon as she saw the shape of Ronan." Mona's gravelly voice was level, as if she recited an unimportant event. "The second I was inside, she came at me with open arms. In my anger, I felt the shape-shift dissolving. I'd lost my focus."
I remembered how shaken I'd been when I saw Ira change into Keegan. "Did Felicia freak out?"
"Her eyes almost popped out of her head when she saw my real face. I could tell she recognized me, though I don't know how, so I took off the baseball cap and let my hair fall down. She screamed at me to get out. She shoved at me. I tried to put a spell on her, but it wouldn't work. We got into a wrestling match." Now that she'd started on the story, Mona didn't seem to mind the ugly details. "I kicked her in the knee, got a handful of hair, and hit her head on the tile." As she talked, Mona's voice sharpened.