“Because I forgot.”
Derek frowned. “You forgot?”
“I went to the police station and they released me with no charges. I don’t know when or how, but somewhere between getting arrested and released, I had no memory of doing any of this. At some point, I must’ve requested this footage from one of my court contacts because this arrived at my mailbox a week later. If not for this tape, I never would’ve known this happened. They wiped my mind. It’s what they do.”
“They? I thought you were talking about Abigail Harris?”
“It’s not just her! It’s that entire family.”
That word caught Derek’s full attention. The family. Or, as Sam called them, the families.
“Everyone is in on it,” continued Parish. “Obviously there’s nothing I can do. They’re too strong for me. I’m just lucky they didn’t decide to get rid of me like they did to Gwen.”
“You think they killed her on purpose?”
“I don’t think those people do anything on accident.”
Derek nodded and thought back to Sam. She’d seemed so willing to help him at first. Did she know they were working against him? Against the entire police department? “Have you ever heard of a guy named Tommy Collins?”
Parish shook his head. “Not Tommy. But there were other Collins who would hang around. Gwen mentioned one of them... Howard Collins. He was always around. Why? Are they in on it too?”
“I’m just trying to piece things together. Do you have a number I can reach you at? I might have more questions.”
Parish got up and grabbed a piece of junk mail off the table, writing his phone number on the back. “What are you going to do?”
“Well, first of all I’m going to talk to Abigail. See what she has to say about it.”
Parish snorted. “You’re going to talk to her? She’s just going to wipe your mind.”
“She’s not going to wipe my mind.”
“You’re not afraid?”
“This is my job. I’m not afraid to do my job.”
Parish shook his head as he backed away. “You don’t get it, man. You need to be afraid. If you’re not scared, you’re the fool.”
The DMV was miserable in most places, but the NYC DMV was a whole different level of hell. That being said, the families loved having connections in the government, and someone who had access to printing off legit IDs was perfect. Whoever was the current DMV plant also usually had some of the best information about what was going on.
Now, getting the DMV plant to talk to Sam was a whole different story. Sam walked in and took a number as she glanced around. It was just past four in the afternoon, so the place was busy with people who’d left work early to take care of the type of errand no one ever wanted to do. There were ten different stations where DMV workers could be, but, in true government fashion, only three were actually manned.
Sometimes IDing the plant in the office was hard, but in this case, she immediately knew which guy was the one with connections in the witchverse. The guy behind the third occupied window had bright-green hair and a whole assortment of piercings. The only way this dude had a government job was if he was using some sort of compulsion.
Instead of sitting down, Sam stood right in his line of vision and crossed her arms over her chest. It was human nature that if you stared at them long enough, they’d sense it; it didn’t take long for the DMV punk to glance up and see her. He subtly tensed and gave her a quick nod before he went back to the person he was working with. Once she left a few minutes later, he put up a sign saying he was closed and walked to the edge of the counter. Sam followed his path and he pushed open the door, holding it open for her.
Sam glanced around, but it was useless considering they were surrounded by people. Obviously this guy wasn’t going for subtlety.
“Come on back,” he said.
Sam didn’t question him because she was just happy enough he was willing to talk to her. At least he wasn’t shutting her out like the sentries at her grandmother’s. Once she was behind the counter, he led her past the computer terminals, through a row of cubicles and then to the break room. The small room with one round table, a fridge, microwave, and three different coffeemakers was in the middle of the building, so there were no windows, but the door had a glass pane that opened out to the cubicle area. The DMV punk closed the blinds, showing that there was at least one place he didn’t want to be seen.
She wondered whether the room was magic-free. It would protect the guy from getting taken advantage of by the people coming to him for help, but it would also leave him vulnerable. Not that she was much of a danger to him just then. She could barely lift a pencil with her mind with her newly revved-up juice, and this guy could obviously compel crowds of people without issue.
Hmm.... This was the first time in a while she missed having powers. Not a feeling she liked.
“You have two minutes. What do you need, Sam?”
She was taken aback. “You know who I am?”
“I make it a point to know all of the immediate members of the family. If you were anyone else, you’d be waiting with your number with all the other drones out there. So put in your request and get out before I have an even bigger cleanup job than I already have.”
Sam squared her shoulders. The guy wasn’t a charmer, but she could respect that she was making his life harder. “I don’t have a specific request. I’m here for information. What do you know about Tommy Collins?”
The punk’s eyes widened. “Oh, no. I’m not involved in that. I think you need to leave.”
“No, you’re totally involved with this. I killed him and someone is covering it up and keeping me away from Claudia. I need to figure out what’s going on.”
“What the hell is wrong with you? You’re off the hook. Someone is covering your ass and isn’t even asking for anything in return. Take the stroke of luck and run with it. I thought you didn’t want anything to do with the families anyway.”
Sam started to speak but realized she had no idea what to say. This wasn’t really her business. She’d always wanted to be removed from the magical drama that was her birthright. Now why was she trying to get back in?
An uninvited image of Derek flashed in her mind. He wouldn’t give up. He would want to do the right thing. Find out the truth no matter what the cost.
And that’s what made him stupid and would one day make him dead.
“Besides, your mom is having a solstice gathering tonight. If you really want to know the truth, you’d be there. Once the party gets going, people will be talking.”
Sam narrowed her eyes. She hadn’t been to a solstice party since she was a teenager. If they were half as crazy as she remembered, the guy probably wasn’t wrong. People would be spilling secrets left and right, whether she wanted to know them or not. “What’s your name?” she asked. The guy took a step back and started to shake his head, so she continued, “You think I couldn’t find out with one phone call?” There weren’t exactly a lot of guys with bright-green hair working at the DMV.
“Fine. It’s Dante.”
She smiled at the small victory. “One more thing, Dante. There was this new witch. Young, blonde, pretty, doesn’t know her family connections. Her first name is Claire. Have you heard anything about her?”
Dante shook his head and from what she could tell, the no seemed genuine. “Sorry. Haven’t heard of anything.”
“I might need an ID pack run on her. How can I get in touch?”
“I only do ID packs through the proper channels.”
“I’ll pay whatever I need to. Just give me a phone number.”
He immediately reached in his back pocket and pulled out a card. “This is my current burner phone number. It changes periodically. If you don’t get through, email me at this address and I’ll get you the new number.”
“Great. I’ll be in touch.”
She turned and pushed open the door to the break room. She paused for half a second as she glan
ced to the left and right. Of course, this whole cool exit would be ruined if she didn’t remember which way to go. Going with her gut, she turned right and hoped for the best.
Derek stopped in front of the imposing iron gate in front of him and leaned forward to get a better view of the massive house. No, house wasn’t the right word. This was an estate. A compound. A building. It was beautiful, but there was nothing homey about it.
But maybe that was just his memory of his Staten Island housing getting in the way.
It didn’t matter how big the place was. He was going to get inside, one way or another. He put the car in park and walked over to the intercom. Getting inside this gate might be harder than getting inside Parish’s apartment. But then again, Parish didn’t want to let him in because he was scared. He had a feeling the people inside this place were harder to intimidate.
Before he could hit any button to signal his presence, a voice came over the intercom. “State your name and purpose.”
Derek glanced around, trying to figure out where the camera was. “Detective Derek Pierce. I’m here to ask Abigail Harris some questions.”
“Is she expecting you?”
“Cops don’t usually make appointments.”
There was a pause before a motor started to groan as the gate slid open. Apparently that was enough to get in. Derek went back to his car and reached to feel the butt of his gun in his jacket. Parish’s words echoed in his mind, but he refused to be afraid. He drove the long driveway that curved around the front of the estate. He didn’t see any cars around, so he assumed there was a designated parking area, but he didn’t expect to be here that long.
The house was bordered by ten ornate columns that stretched up the three stories of the place. Behind the towers was a long porch that stretched at least two hundred feet along the front of the estate, and a bright-white staircase led down to the driveway.
Before the car was even turned off, the door was open and a big guy stepped out. Derek was slightly relieved to see that he wasn’t in the same suit as the strange guys in the hospital, but this guy had a gun holster clipped on his belt holding a black handgun. He couldn’t tell what type, but from the size he was guessing 9 mm. Considering Derek kept his piece in a shoulder holster that was under his suit jacket, there was almost no chance he could draw first on this guy.
“Hello, Officer. Garrett Storm.” He didn’t hold out his hand. “Abigail Harris isn’t around right now.”
“We talked at the police station yesterday. It was about her daughter, Sam. Are you sure she isn’t around?”
“One hundred percent.”
Even as he spoke, the front door opened and out came Abigail Harris. She wasn’t the type to sit around in sweatpants while at home. She was dressed as though she could walk into any courtroom and yell out “objection” in a cream-colored knee-length skirt and a silk shirt in the same color. “Detective Pierce.” She walked down the stairs. “What an unexpected surprise.” She stopped on the second-to-last stair, where she was still taller than Derek.
“I could hardly stay away after the fuss you caused at the precinct yesterday.”
She raised a brow and cocked her head as she considered him. “Funny. I expected that after all that fuss, I’d never see you again. In fact, I believe that you were told to drop the case relating to my daughter.”
“I still have a lot of questions. And whatever mojo you’re working over on everyone else, that’s not going to get me to go away.”
“Is that right?” She set a hand on her hip. “I am only going to give you this warning once, Detective. I’m not an enemy you want to have.”
“Is that what you told the five people who died when your last place burned down?”
Her eyes widened and he knew he scored at least one point. That was something she didn’t think he knew about. He kept on. “Care to tell me how there were no investigations into the fire?”
The blond guy stepped forward. “Ms. Harris. I think we should go inside.”
She held up a hand to silence him. “If you want to know about Tommy Collins, you should stop by tonight. I’m holding a little... get-together. Lots of people who knew Thomas will be there. I’ll put your name on the list.”
As happy as Derek was to get his way, he didn’t like how easy this seemed. “Lots of people will know I’m there.”
Abigail smiled and came down the last two stairs. “Detective, are you worried?”
He returned her smile. “You don’t scare me.”
“Good. Because if I wanted you dead, you never would’ve made it past the gates. The last thing I need is a dead detective. I’ll see you tonight. Wear something nice.” Without waiting for a response, she turned and strode up the stairs. The blond guard gave him one last once-over before he followed her and they shut the door on him.
Derek clenched his jaw and stared at the closed door. This wasn’t going to be good, but he was getting invited inside. Something Parish had never come close to, and Sam wasn’t about to give him an invitation.
Besides, Abigail said she wasn’t about to kill him. Granted, her tone definitely said otherwise. Derek shook his head as he turned back to the Crown Vic. He had a party to get ready for.
Abigail stormed into her office, with Garrett right behind her. “I need you to get me dirt on him. Everything. If he took a bribe in preschool, I want to know about it,” she commanded. “Where’s Heather?”
Garrett pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “You need to get here now.”
Abigail sat down at her computer, glancing at herself in the black monitor of her computer. She took a deep breath and worked to keep her emotions in check. No one would be helped if she flew off the handle.
“Mom! You’re going to flip when you see the ballroom. This is going to be the best solstice party ever!”
Abigail looked away from her reflection to her oldest daughter, Heather. “Forget the party. I need you to make me a batch of Full Moon Potion.”
Heather’s face turned to a mask of shock. “What?” She glanced back to Garrett, searching for some sort of explanation. Heather was shorter than her sister, Sam, but had the same small frame. Instead of trying to stand out, Heather had always done her best to fit in. Her brown hair was dyed a bright bleached blonde which, along with her pale skin, made her extra striking. If she were taller, she probably would’ve been on every runway in the world, but Heather had never been interested in counting calories and trying to appease clients. Instead, she lived for the time with her friends and, especially, the parties.
“We’ve hit a speed bump. There is a detective who is especially curious about what happened with Tommy Collins.”
“He was here alone,” pointed out Garrett. “Why couldn’t you just make him go away?”
She narrowed her eyes. He should know that she had her reasons. “He stole Samantha’s protection charm. There’s nothing I could do right now.”
Heather’s dyed blonde brows drew together. “Okay. But even so, the Full Moon Potion seems a little drastic, don’t you—”
“He was asking about the fire.”
“Oh.” Abigail could see the understanding hit her daughter hard. “Umm... the Full Moon Potion normally takes days to—”
“You have until tonight. Detective Pierce isn’t going to leave this house until he belongs to me and one of you is going to get it done. Do I make myself clear?”
Garrett and Heather both nodded as they filed out of her office. Abigail sat back and looked over her office. Just a few more hours and Detective Pierce wouldn’t be a problem any longer.
“You’re going to a party?” asked a perplexed Claire.
“I’m going to get answers,” clarified Sam as she pulled out another skirt and held it against her hips. Dressing was easier when she’d had some weight on her bones. At least she’d started to regain her appetite ever since that night in the garden with Derek. In fact, she’d been ravenous since she’d killed Tommy.
But she hadn’t ma
naged to gain any weight in that two-day period, so she’d need to find something that would allow her to fit in and wouldn’t fall off her hips completely. It had been so long since she’d gone to one of these things.
“You’re getting your answers at a party, though.”
“Yes. It’s a party.”
Claire bit her lip. “And your family is going to be there?”
“Unfortunately.”
“So, I know I’m not the poster child for normal, but do you always dress like that for a family get-together?” Claire pointed to the various miniskirts Sam had thrown onto her bed to consider.
Sam sighed as she threw one more skirt onto the bed. There. She had to be able to pick one from the bunch. “Trust me, I’m not the poster child for normal either. But a solstice party isn’t really a sit-down dinner.”
“Then what is it? And why isn’t it on a solstice?”
“They used to always be on the solstice. It’s really a fun way to get together and gather energy.”
Claire raised a brow. “Gather energy? I know you said you were a witch but this is the first time you sounded like one.”
Sam rolled her eyes. “It’s true. The more power you use, the more drained you are.”
“So you get power by hanging out with other witches.”
Sam let out a little laugh. If only it was that easy. “No. You get power by doing things that get your energies up.”
“Like?”
“Like bad things. Fighting. Sneaking around with a guy you’re not supposed to. Breaking the rules. Breaking the law.” Killing a man....
“So you get power by being a dick?”
Now she was getting it. “There are legit ways to do it. Like the solstice party. A bunch of people behaving badly all night and by the end they’re all recharged.”
“Oh my God, you’re dancing naked under the moonlight, aren’t you?”
Black leather skirt would be best, she decided as she tried to tune out Claire. “Naked moonlight dancing is completely optional.”
The Bewitching Hour Page 13