Familiar Motives

by Delia James

  “Pam Abernathy.”

  45

  THE FIRST THING that happened was Rachael sent a text to Aunt Wendy telling her not to worry. Things at the clinic were just taking a little longer than she’d hoped.

  The second thing that happened was that I drove us to Ramona’s condominium and parked the Jeep a good quarter mile down the road.

  The third thing that happened was I turned to Rachael and watched her unbuckle her seat belt.

  “Rachael . . . ,” I began.

  “No. I am not changing my mind,” she said in a steely tone that would have done Julia, or Aunt Wendy, proud. “You heard what Kenisha said. Pete already has doubts about what we told him. We go back waving some new scrap of evidence, he’s going to think something’s fishy.”

  Especially when Pete now knew that Rachael had already tried once to make a false case against Cheryl.

  “Besides,” she went on. “Pam . . . Pam is a friend of the family’s. I can’t accuse her without being sure. Enough people are already going to be ruined by this.”

  “But we are sure,” I told her. “Now we have to let the police do their job.”

  “Anna.” Rachael faced me. Her eyes were dry but red around the edges, reminding me of her sleepless night. “I came out here this morning because you asked me to. I told Pete everything because you said you were sure it would settle all the questions and that we’d be able to put Cheryl Bell in jail. But it’s only made everything worse.”

  “But now we know that Cheryl was conspiring with Pam to cover up the tainted-pet-food scandal. She will go to jail.”

  “And if Cheryl denies it? She’s already set up her story.” By telling it to me. I grimaced. “Or what if Pam tells a different story? Then what? The police already don’t believe us! And Aunt Wendy . . . I don’t even want to think about what she’s going to say.” Anger warred with the fear in her voice. “I just . . . I just want to be sure it’s not all going to be for nothing. Please,” she said. “You have to let me talk to Pam first. I have be sure.”

  I did not like this. And yet, I felt responsible. It was my fault things were as confused as they were. I had been so sure that we would lay everything to rest this morning. But now this new shoe had dropped. And the clock was still ticking down. Fast. And faster.

  “You don’t have to be there,” said Rachael.

  “No,” I said. “You’re not doing this alone.” She looked ready to argue, but I didn’t let her get started. “If there are two sets of eyes, and two phones making a recording, whatever we end up having to tell the police will be that much more believable.”

  Rachael clearly didn’t agree, but she didn’t argue. She just pulled out her phone and hit a number.

  “Hello, Pam? Yeah. It’s Rachael. Yeah . . . I know. But, Pam, I need you to come over to Mom’s apartment.” She paused. “I know you’re in the middle of things. But there’s a big problem. It’s about the new Best Petz line,” she added, and she looked at me while she did. “I’ve found something here, and I don’t know what to do.”

  She listened and nodded, like you do even when you know the person on the other end can’t see you. “Right, ten minutes,” Rachael said, and she hung up.

  The next thing that happened was that I went with Rachael as she unlocked her mother’s apartment, and I hid behind the curtains.

  Well, okay, I hid behind the half wall in Ramona’s loft. It wasn’t the most secure location in the world, but it would allow for a better sound quality than my first idea, which was me hiding out on the balcony. I climbed the stairs and settled down behind the chest where Ramona kept the tools of the true craft.

  “Merow?” Of course Alistair was there, right beside me, running his paws over his ears to show how seriously he took the whole situation.

  I sighed. “Okay,” I whispered. “But you need to keep quiet.”

  For an answer, he vanished, then reappeared under the bed, scrunched back so far in the shadows, all I could see were his blue eyes.

  Right. Good. That’s my guy.

  I crossed my legs and generally got myself as comfortable as I could. I laid my wand on my knee. All the Vibes left from Ramona’s death were still here. I breathed as deep as I could and focused on my shields. I needed them. There was so much anger swirling out beyond that shimmering mental curtain, it was nearly impossible for me to sit still.

  I pulled out my phone, checked the charge level and made sure I had the voice recorder ready to go.

  Below, the intercom buzzed, and I just about jumped out of my skin.

  Just breathe, I told myself. Breathe and focus.

  I peered around the corner of the chest. From here, I could see down the stairs to the door. Rachael walked into view and pressed the buzzer to let whoever it was in. She stood right in front of the door, gathering her nerve. A few frantic heartbeats later, somebody knocked.

  I ducked back. I also hit the Record button on my phone and set it, carefully, on top of the chest.

  “Rachael,” Pam sounded breathless. “What on earth’s happened? What have you found out? I had to leave Kristen back at the McDermotts’. I can’t tell you how badly everything’s exploding right now.”

  I heard rustling. I bit my lip and dug my fingers into the carpet. You can’t look. You can’t look.

  Rachael didn’t answer.

  “Rachael?” Pam’s voice broke. “Please, honey, what is it? You know I just want to help.”

  “You,” Rachael croaked. “I found out about you.”

  There was silence for one heartbeat. Two. I gripped carpet and clenched every muscle in my body. I had to hold still. I had to. The Vibe pressed hard against my shields.

  Breathe, breathe, breathe. I clutched my wand.

  “What are you talking about?” asked Pam, very, very carefully.

  “I know about the Ultrapremium line,” said Rachael. “About the tainted fillers they’re using in the food.”

  There was another long, painful pause. “You know?” breathed Pam finally.

  I will not move. I will not check to make sure the phone is recording. I will not give myself away. Alistair slunk on his belly to the edge of the bed. I glowered at him. You won’t either, you big galoot.

  “I’ve been going through the clinic records,” Rachael said. “There was enough in the files that I was able to piece the truth together.”

  Nice one. I leaned the back of my head against the wall. My hand hurt from how hard I gripped my wand.

  “Listen, Rachael, I understand this is a shock.” I could picture how Pam’s face shifted as she pulled on her expression of gentle sympathy. “It’s a terrible situation, and it needs to be brought out in the open. If you could give us just a few weeks more—”

  Rachael didn’t let her get any further. “I had a kitten in my office the other day. She’d been eating the food. She almost died.”

  “That must have been an older batch,” said Pam quickly. “I promise you, Best Petz has fixed the problem. They changed suppliers months ago.”

  “Is that what you told Mom?”

  That stopped Pam cold. “Rachael, I don’t know what you think you know . . .”

  “I know enough to make your life very difficult if I decide to.”

  Pam sighed. I imagined her straightening up and plastering a reasonable expression on her face.

  “All right. Rachael, you have as much of a stake in this as any of the rest of us. I was going to be offering you the same consulting contract with Abernathy & Walsh as your mother had. Think about it. It’ll be a steady income for you as soon as you get your license. You could get the clinic back on its feet if you wanted. All we need is one more week to finish a little paperwork.”

  “And after that?”

  “After that, Attitude Cat belongs to Best Petz. Cheryl Bell quietly drops her lawsuit, and we all take the profits and go
our own separate ways.”

  Alistair crept out from under the bed. His whiskers were twitching madly. He didn’t like this. Neither did I. My shields wavered and I felt the hot anger and cold greed slam hard against them.

  “And what if Best Petz lied about changing suppliers?” Rachael demanded below us. “They’ve lied about everything else just to save themselves some money.”

  “I’ve already checked,” Pam said soothingly. “I’ve verified everything. Really. You have to trust me. It’s already done.”

  “Then why won’t Best Petz make an announcement? Tell people who might have gotten some of the old samples to throw them out?”

  “That’s coming, I swear,” said Pam. “I’ve got the press release all drafted. I just need one more week. That’s all. Then you can take whatever evidence you think you have about tainted food to the whole world. I don’t care. Just give me time to clear myself and my people out of this mess.”

  “Is that what you told Mom?”

  “Rachael, your mother was my friend. She understood. She was giving me time.”

  Alistair was on all his paws, his tail fluffed out. I spread my fingers and braced myself. This was bad. I felt it. The Vibe was churning through the whole room, a whirlwind of feeling. This was wrong. Really, seriously wrong.

  “But it wasn’t going to be enough time, was it?” said Rachael quietly. “That’s why you had to conspire with Cheryl Bell. You offered her the consulting job. You opened the account and put the money in so it would look like Mom was stealing. That way no one would believe she was actually going to blow the whistle on Best Petz.”

  “Rachael . . . ”

  “Who did you get to make those fake cat-napping phone calls?”

  Pam sighed impatiently. “Zach. I told him it was part of a PR stunt, so don’t go blaming . . .” She didn’t finish that sentence. “Listen to me, Rachael. We’ve all made mistakes—”

  “This isn’t a mistake! This is deliberate fraud! It’s criminal neglect! It’s perjury and—”

  “Don’t you think I know that?!” screamed Pam.

  Silence fell, hard, thick and heavy.

  “What was I supposed to do, Rachael?” Pam said. “I’ve got people depending on me! I’m a fifty-year-old woman. My firm specializes in pet-oriented branding. Who is going to hire me if they discovered I helped cover up a case of tainted pet food? There is no way to recover from that. I just needed time to erase the chain. That’s all. I needed to keep my people safe.”

  “And yourself,” said Rachael bitterly. The tide of anger surged, and surged again. My head lifted; so did all the hairs on the back of my neck.

  “Yes, yes! All right!” Pam was shouting again. My shields waved, wobbled and held. Barely.

  Alistair crept to my side. He rubbed his head against my hand. I wrapped an arm around him.

  Something was wrong. Something was happening, beyond my shields. Something bad was thrumming through the air, catching itself up in the Vibe, strengthening it, pushing on it.

  “Mom wasn’t going to give you as much time as you wanted, and that’s why you killed her. You reminded Cheryl Bell that her consulting job and its big fat paycheck depended on Best Petz and you, so she would help you cover things up afterward.”

  Something’s wrong.

  “Rachael, no—”

  Something bad is coming.

  But Rachael didn’t let Pam get any further. “You killed her. Right here. She let you in because you were her friend.” While Damon and Zach were out running some errand, getting coffee and sandwiches and dry-erase markers. “You came in and you pushed her off the balcony onto the rocks. Did she die right away, or did you have to go down and smash her head against the boulder to make sure? You must have been so happy for all that bad weather to wash away any extra evidence.”

  Something’s coming.

  “Rachael, no . . . I . . .”

  It’s close, it’s close . . .

  “What . . .”

  Alistair hissed. He was up on his feet, his back arched and all his fur standing on end, a nightmare cat. A split second later, I felt the spell. This was no slow prickling up my hands. This was a wave of anger that hit me like a storm blast. I tried to jump to my feet, but I only sprawled full-length on the carpet. If it hadn’t been for my shields and Alistair, I think I might have passed out.

  “Rachael!” I shouted, or at least I tried to. “Rachael, stop!”

  The only answer was another surge of anger backed by cold, strained magic. My lungs seized up. My heart squeezed tight. It took everything I had, but I forced myself onto my knees.

  “Merow!” wailed Alistair. “Maow!”

  “Kenisha,” I hissed through gritted teeth. “Get Kenisha.”

  But Alistair didn’t move. I didn’t have time to argue. I grabbed the half wall and hauled myself upright. The air was so thick with anger and magic, it was like I was drowning in molasses. I willed my shields to harden, to block it out, to cut me a path.

  I made it to my feet, but barely. What I saw then almost knocked me right back down.

  Down below, Pamela was crumpled against the wall, her breath coming in gasps. Rachael was sitting on the couch, watching with cold and dead eyes.

  “Rachael,” I croaked.

  Rachael didn’t move. She stared at Pam. All her focus, all her will and all her magic narrowed down to a single point. The throat. Rachael was going to throttle Pam. She was going to strangle her to death and not leave a mark.

  Her family were healers. She was a healer. She was turning that talent against Pamela’s body. Pam’s lips were turning blue. She shifted her gaze toward me. She lifted her hand.

  “Rachael, stop!” I gasped.

  “She killed my mother,” Rachael answered, her voice flat and final.

  “I know, I know.” I started for the stairs. Slowly, painfully. I clutched the rail with my free hand. Alistair was right beside me. “But you can’t . . .”

  “Yes, I can,” replied Rachael calmly. Her eyes never flickered from Pam’s throat. “I’m doing it.”

  I was halfway down. Three-quarters. “But this isn’t justice, Rachael. This is revenge. The law . . .”

  “I don’t care!”

  I believed her. In that moment, nothing meant anything. My head spun. I couldn’t keep my shields up. The trapped anger, rage and greed were leaching into me. In another minute, I wouldn’t care either.

  What could I do? It took all my strength to hang on to what was left of my shields. I wasn’t Rachael. I didn’t have a personal gift to turn on her. I needed help. I didn’t . . . I couldn’t . . .

  “Merow!” cried Alistair. “Maaawoooow!” My Vibe surged and strained.

  Pam’s head lifted, slowly, and her face was a mask of fury. “She deserved it. After all I did for her, and you.”

  “I told you,” said Rachael, her voice as cool and dead as her eyes. “I don’t care.”

  Oh, no. The anger, the greed, the cold horror of it all, pressed against my brain. The apartment walls could barely keep it in. I could barely keep it out.

  Rachael didn’t blink. Pam’s eyes closed. Her head slumped down onto her knees.

  “Merow!” wailed Alistair. And I knew. I had a chance. One chance. Rachael had once used her magic to try to influence me. I had to return the favor, and I had one advantage she didn’t.

  I had way more than just my own feelings to draw on.

  I focused. Hard. I had no preparation. But I had my familiar and I had my wand, and I was angry and I was frightened and I had absolutely had enough. Enough of Pamela. Enough of Rachael. Enough of people acting like money was more important than life itself.

  In need I call . . .

  In hope I ask . . .

  Let her feel it. Let them both feel what I feel right now . . .

  With all my strength, I
grabbed my Vibe, and I threw it hard at Pam and at Rachael. So hard, it exploded in my mind like fireworks.

  Rachael screamed. The Vibe—the whole tangled net of dread, fury and desperation—threw itself across them.

  Rachael screamed again, and I felt her grip on her magic falter. Alistair jumped up into her lap, thrusting his face into hers, breaking her final thread of concentration. The vibrations and the energies swirled and collided.

  And shattered.

  I dropped to the floor, like all my strings had been cut.

  “Yip! Yip! Yip! Yip!”

  There was a banging and an explosion. It was my heart. My heart had burst inside me. I was sure of it. Now my life was flashing in front of my eyes. My life had cops and friends pouring through a doorway.

  And, apparently, dachshunds.

  46

  PAMELA ABERNATHY WAS charged with the murder of Ramona Forsythe and was taken away by an escort of police officers that included both Officer Kenisha Freeman and Detective Pete Simmons. They wanted to take Rachael Forsythe as well, so she could be booked for attempted murder, obstructing justice and interfering with a crime scene. They would have, too, but Rachael needed to go to the hospital to be treated for exhaustion and severe dehydration.

  No, none of us tried to explain that one.

  Cheryl Bell was charged as a coconspirator. Zach quit Abernathy & Walsh the next day to go back to college and get his masters degree in social work.

  Kenisha got a commendation from an extremely grudging Lieutenant Blanchard for superior police work. Pete stood at her side during the ceremony, beaming like a proud papa at his daughter’s graduation.

  Sean and I took a long, leisurely drive up to central Maine and had a wonderful dinner that included lobster macaroni and cheese at a roadside diner. I may have drunk a little too much artisanal vodka and fallen asleep in the passenger-seat side of his ancient station wagon on the way back, but we don’t need to go into that.

  On the night of the new moon, the full guardian coven and the full Forsythe family gathered on the spiral path in my back garden. In the dark, as the first real snow of winter fell around us, we lifted our voices, our hearts and the power of our craft. Wendy knelt by the fire and asked for healing and forgiveness from the living and the dead. We stood around her and hailed the stars and the memory of Ramona Forsythe. We wished her peace; we wished her a safe journey to the other side.