That Olde White Magick

by Sharon Pape

  “What did the letter say?”

  “I have it right here.”

  She reached for the envelope on the side table. I hadn’t noticed it. So much for my observational skills. Oh, Nancy, I still have a lot to learn.

  “I want you to read it for yourself,” Jane said, holding it out to me. “In case I missed something subtle in the meaning. I think they call it a ‘subtext.’”

  I took the letter out of the envelope. It was written in pen on the kind of white ruled paper students use.

  Dear Mom,

  I hope you’re okay. I’m sorry if I made you worry, but I had to leave town in a hurry. I didn’t tell you I was going because I was afraid the police or certain other parties would stake out your house or tap your phone. I’m some place safe for now. This is important—I leased a safety deposit box in your name at the Sentinel Bank branch you use. There’s a good deal of money in there for your future. Don’t be afraid to use it. Please shred this letter after you read it—just in case.

  I’ll write to you again when I can.

  Love,

  Dwayne

  I didn’t find any subtext in the letter. It was straightforward, except for the reason he had to leave town quickly. I had a pretty good idea why, but it wasn’t because of hidden meaning in the letter. It was because of Amanda’s death.

  Jane’s eyes were riveted on me, waiting for my take on the letter. I saw no reason to burden her with dire speculation. I preferred to leave her with something positive, something that would buoy her spirits. “The letter is mysterious,” I said, handing it back to her. “Was there a key with it?”

  “Yes, I’ve hidden it away. I should tell you where,” she added as if the thought had just occurred to her. When I started to protest, she said there was no one else she trusted and her memory was not that reliable lately. What would she do if she forgot the hiding place? I finally agreed.

  “It’s at the bottom of my sewing kit in the closet of the spare bedroom,” she said.

  “Got it,” I said. “No more need to worry about it.”

  “Now tell me what you think of the letter.”

  “I think you should focus on the good news in it. You know your son is safe.”

  “True,” she said. “I’m incredibly relieved he’s okay, although the words for now trouble me.”

  “No one has a guarantee about tomorrow or ten minutes from now,” I pointed out.

  “I never thought of it that way,” Jane marveled as if she were seeing the world from a new perspective.

  “And don’t forget about the money in the safety deposit box. Dwayne has secured your future for you. He’s a devoted son.” And possibly a killer for hire, but I left out that part. It would be cruel to torture Jane with maybes.

  “How do you think he came by that money?” she said, pressing me, apparently determined to wring every last bit of worry from his words.

  I’d been wondering the same thing. In deference to her, I went for the nicest answer I could think of. “You told me he worked a lot of overtime. He must have been stashing it away as a surprise for you.”

  “Or he won a lottery,” she said, joining in the game. “Not the one with the billions; those people have to come forward, and I would have heard about it. A scratch-off million or two would be fabulous enough.”

  “There you go.”

  “You’re so good for my spirits,” Jane said with a smile. “Now we’d better eat that chicken before it dries out, or you’ll leave here thinking I’m a terrible cook.”

  * * * *

  On my drive home, I called Travis to report on my evening with Jane. “What do you think?” I asked him when I’d finished

  “I think the money in that safety deposit box is dirty.”

  “Murder dirty?”

  “What do you think? If Dwayne was barely making ends meet on his salary and Christmas bonus, how else could he have made enough money that his mother wouldn’t have to worry about her future?”

  We were both quiet, thinking our own thoughts. “There’s a problem with this case,” I said, finally giving voice to something that had been troubling me for a while.

  “There are too many suspects with perfect motives,” Travis said for me. “It’s been bothering me too.”

  “Some pearls of wisdom would be good at this point. Have any?”

  “If we keep our noses to the grindstone, we’ll eventually catch a break. How’s that hit you?”

  I laughed. “That’s awful. But as pathetic as it is, I can’t think of anything better.”

  Chapter 25

  The following night, I think every resident of New Camel was glued to his or her TV, computer, tablet, or phone, awaiting the results of the town board vote. I was no exception. Tilly had asked me to join her and Merlin for the “big reveal,” as she put it. She’d made strawberry ice cream sandwiches on her version of jumbo Oreos. Depending on which way the vote went, we’d be celebrating with them or using the sugar rush to raise our deflated spirits. The three of us were lined up on her sofa, watching for the breaking-news banner to flash across the screen and interrupt a rerun of NCIS. By the time it finally happened, Merlin had become engrossed in the program and complained bitterly about the interruption. Tilly told him he could have a preemptive ice cream sandwich, and off he went.

  The banner gave way to a view of Phil Phillips, our local news anchor, sitting behind his desk, looking somber. Since I didn’t know how he felt about the zoning issue, it was hard to guess the result from his face. I imagine neutrality was his goal anyway. He introduced himself and the subject of the breaking news before passing the baton to the reporter in the field, stretching out the process to build tension. This is what passed for big news in our little town.

  The reporter thanked the anchor for the handoff and started his spiel with some background every viewer already knew. “The town board convened here at the New Camel Elementary School a short time ago for an up-or-down vote about changing the zoning laws. As you may recall, the Waverly Group’s proposal to build a hotel in the freshwater marsh on the eastern end of town depends on that zoning change.” He touched his ear piece. “Okay, folks, I’ve just been told the result is in.” He paused for a dramatic beat. “The proposal has squeaked by with a three to two vote. The board has voted to change the zoning laws. Back to you in the studio, Phil.”

  Tilly and I looked at each other, our mouths hanging open. “How on earth did that happen?” she said once she found her words.

  “The way a lot of things seem to happen around here,” I said grimly. “Tompkins may have bribed one or more of the board members.” I was thoroughly disgusted.

  “Which one of you is the traitor?” Tilly demanded as the camera showed the board members filing out of the building and walking to their cars. Police were stationed along their route in case anyone took exception to the results.

  “In the end, everyone has their price,” I said, wrestling with my own anger and dismay. “It’s just a matter of figuring out what it is.”

  Merlin wandered back into the room, licking his fingers where the melting cookie had stuck to his skin. There was also a ring of chocolate around his mouth. “Hasn’t that galoot said which way the vote went yet?” he asked.

  “It passed,” Tilly told him.

  The anchor wished the viewers a good evening and signed off. After a parade of commercials, NCIS resumed.

  “My show’s back on,” Merlin said as he squeezed in between Tilly and me again, “Wait a gall-darned minute! They’ve gone and skipped over part of the show.”

  I thought about explaining syndicated reruns and places where the news bulletin hadn’t preempted the show, but I just didn’t have the patience for the Q and A that would inevitably follow. I took the cowardly way out and followed Tilly into the kitchen for our ice cream sandwiches.

  * * * *


  “I think I’m more disturbed by the way the vote was manipulated than by the fact that the tone of the town may be forever changed.” I was sitting with Lolly in the kitchen of her shop. She’d invited me there for a three o’clock candy break. With school back in session and no scheduled bus tours, it had been a quiet day for both of us. I left a note on the door of my shop, telling any potential customers to look for me at Lolly’s.

  “I know what you mean,” she said. “I’m so frustrated. Why do you think I was up at dawn making candy?”

  “I can’t honestly say I’m sorry about that part,” I mumbled around a mouthful of caramel swaddled in a thick layer of dark chocolate. “I don’t know how chocolate ever fell into the hands of mere mortals. It is the closest thing to pure magick.”

  “Considering it’s my livelihood, this mere mortal is beyond grateful that it did. Here, try one of these,” she said, passing me a dish of oddly shaped chocolates.

  “Nuts?” I asked, taking one.

  “You tell me.”

  “I took a bite. “Walnuts and raisins.”

  “Keep going.”

  “Um, pomegranate seeds. Oh, and peanut butter chips.”

  “My new kitchen-sink chocolates,” she said, beaming like a new mother. “You’re my beta tester.”

  “You’ve got a winner here. I predict you won’t be able to keep up with the demand...from me alone.”

  “At least some good came from Tompkins’s chicanery,” Lolly said with a sigh. “Speaking of which, while I was lying in bed not sleeping, I was trying to figure out which board member caved.”

  “You and everyone else. I don’t know Corinne or Eddie well enough to guess at their moral code,” I said, “but I have been wondering about Patrick. First, he was for the zoning change because it would bring in more tourists and potentially increase his bottom line. He even mentioned his concerns about money to me. But then his son raised his consciousness about the environment, and just like that he changed his position. I can’t shake the feeling that a substantial offer of money could have been behind that reversal.”

  “Hello. Anyone here?” Travis’s voice boomed in the quiet shop, making us both jump.

  “We’re coming,” Lolly and I sang out in unison as we covered the short distance from the kitchen into the shop proper.

  Travis looked sharp in lean jeans and a crisp white polo. I’d already moved on to light winter gear with a cotton sweater and boots. The two of us appeared to be living in different climates.

  “Were you back there planning revenge on Tompkins?” he asked.

  “We’ve been stuffing our faces with chocolate,” I confessed.

  “And no one thought to invite me?”

  “I would have,” Lolly said, “if I’d known you were going to be around today.” She looked pointedly at me.

  I laughed. “Hey, not my fault. I had no idea either.”

  Lolly liked Travis and never missed an opportunity to tell me so. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was in cahoots with Bronwen and Morgana. “How can I make amends?” she asked him.

  “One chocolate-covered strawberry should do the trick, thank you.”

  Lolly pulled out the entire tray of chocolate dipped fruit and let him choose the one he wanted. He plucked a huge strawberry off the tray and took a bite.

  “The best,” he said with a satisfied sigh. “When it comes to chocolate, you are without equal. In gratitude, I’ll take Kailyn off your hands,” he added gallantly.

  “Have fun you two. All work and no play....”

  * * * *

  “What’s up?” I asked Travis once we were in Abracadabra. Sashkatu raised a furry eyebrow at the sound of my voice, smacked his lips like the old man he was, and fell back to sleep. Having lived the majority of his life with women, he had minimal interest in men, with the notable exception of Merlin. Of course, that was like comparing apples to orangutans.

  “I was going to call you, but then I decided to cheer you up in person,” Travis said. “I didn’t know Lolly had beaten me to the punch.”

  I hiked myself up on the countertop, and he did the same. We were sitting inches from each other, which made me ache to be closer. Not for the first time, I wondered why he wasn’t feeling the same tug. Or if he was, why he was ignoring it. Had learning my strange lineage permanently destroyed his deepening feelings for me? My thoughts must have bled through to my face because Travis was looking at me with the bewilderment of a caveman trying to understand modern art.

  “What’s wrong?” he said. “I came here to make you happy, not more miserable.”

  I forced a smile. “Sorry, my mind wandered. But I’m ready now. Lay that happiness on me.”

  “I’ve been thinking about Rusty. Of all the suspects, he was the only one who would have needed to get back into the school building after killing Amanda. Anyone else could have immediately left the grounds. If Rusty had waltzed into the gym through the open emergency doors, an awful lot of people would have seen him. Now Duggan questioned everyone there and, to the best of my knowledge, didn’t find a single person who’d seen Rusty outdoors at that time.”

  “Go on,” I said, curious about where he was headed with this reasoning.

  “Based on that, I nearly crossed him off our list. But being a journalist, due diligence was browbeaten into me. That would be Browbeating 101, if you’re taking notes.”

  I was following his words so intently that the unexpected aside almost slipped past me. I chuckled a few beats late.

  He winked at me and continued. “I wanted to be sure there was no other door Rusty could have used—where he wouldn’t have been seen reentering the building. I went down to town hall and asked to see the blueprints for the elementary school.”

  “I’m surprised that didn’t raise any eyebrows. School security is a huge deal these days. You’re lucky they didn’t call the cops and haul you in for questioning.”

  “It did get a little sticky. I showed them my personal ID and my network ID, but they weren’t buying it until one of the women there recognized me from TV. Even then they would only show me the plans under supervision and for like half a minute. I couldn’t take notes or pictures.”

  “And?”

  “There is a door on the side of the building where Amanda was found.”

  “Did you go to the school to check it out?”

  He shook his head. “I think you’ll have better luck gaining access to the grounds than I would. You’re an alumna, and everyone knows you and your family. Plus, you’re a woman. You’re less likely to be seen as a threat, especially if you go there after the kids have left for the day.”

  I looked at my watch. “I can go right now,” I said. I was excited to have a new lead to follow, though I wasn’t exactly happy that it might point to Rusty’s guilt. I still had a bit of a soft spot for the guy.

  “I’ll wait for you at The Jerk,” Travis said. “I never had time for lunch.” He leaned closer and planted a kiss on my mouth before jumping down from the counter. “Be careful.”

  Frozen in place, I watched him walk out. I’d forgotten how good it was to be kissed by him. I sat there for another couple minutes trying to process what it meant, if this was the first step of a new beginning for us. I had to give myself a mental slap to break the heady trance I was falling under. It was time to get my show on the road before the school shut down for the night.

  * * * *

  Travis was right. I had no trouble getting permission to walk around the school grounds. I didn’t mention I was looking for the door. I’d learned it was best to say as little as possible to as few people as possible. Most of the staff had heard I was investigating Amanda’s death, so they didn’t seem to find my request strange. The vice-principle’s only caveat was that I not take photos. I had to leave my phone in his office.

  I went out the front entrance
and made my way around the building to the spot where Travis had seen the door on the blueprint. And there it was. I hadn’t noticed it the night Amanda was killed because there didn’t seem to be any exterior light to illuminate it. A coincidence or part of the killer’s plan? I tried the door, expecting to find it locked. To my surprise, the knob turned easily in my hand. When I peered inside, it was dark, except for the light coming in behind me. I felt along the walls and located a light switch that turned on a weak fluorescent fixture in the ceiling. I walked in, hoping I didn’t bump into Rusty. I shook the thought from my head. Think too much about the negative and the universe will comply. It was one of my grandmother’s adages that was finally gaining acceptance with my generation.

  The space I was standing in was small, no more than a ten-foot square, and windowless, with a cement floor and peeling green paint on the walls. It appeared to be some sort of anteroom, although it didn’t lead to another room. Instead, directly in front of me was a staircase leading down into more darkness. I wanted to kick myself for not thinking to bring a flashlight or a light spell for that matter. Logic dictated that there should be another light switch unless the stairs were only used by nocturnal creatures like raccoons and vampires. I ran my palm over the wall near the stairs and found it. But when I flicked it on, nothing happened. The bulb must have burned out. I considered my options. I could turn around and leave. After all, I’d found the door and fulfilled my purpose in going there. Or I could walk down the stairs and see where they led. Who was I kidding? It wasn’t a choice at all.