Kiss the Witch

by Dana E. Donovan

  She shook her head. “Don’t bother.”

  I blinked, and it came to me. “That was you?”

  She nodded simply.

  “Cool. Can you teach me to do that?”

  “You already know how to do that,” she said. “You just don’t know you know.”

  “What else you got?”

  “How `bout the pulse point?”

  “What’s that?”

  She took my hand and laid her finger across the back of my wrist. “That’s where you touch somebody at a pulse point and ask him a question to which they can only answer truthfully.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like….” She smiled thinly. “Do you love me?”

  “Yes,” I said, without thinking. “Wait. I mean…. Was that a question or an example?”

  “Does it matter? You answered it, didn’t you?”

  “I would have answered that question anyway. Ask me another.”

  “Okay. This next question is about Ursula. Have you ever imagined the two of you––”

  I jerked my hand free before she could finish. “I have to get ready for work,” I said. “I’m running late.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Of course you are.” I started away. She called me back. “Listen.”

  “Yes?”

  “Two things. First, Ursula has a promise stone she wants to give to Dominic. Remember to take it with you before you leave.”

  “All right.”

  “Secondly.” She took a breath and hesitated, which told me it was not a small thing. Seldom does Lilith hesitate when discussing things of any magnitude. She stepped closer, backing me against the wall again. “I want to establish a new coven.”

  I admit I did not fully appreciate the enormity of her statement. “Okay. Establish a new coven.”

  “You have to be a part of it.”

  That seemed simple enough. “O–Kaaay.”

  “It requires a ceremony.”

  I still did not get it. “Most things do with you.”

  “So, you’ll participate?”

  “Sure,” I said, remembering my promise to her for more cooperation. “I’ll participate.”

  “I can count on it?”

  “Lilith, you can count on it. Whatever it is.” I looked at my wrist. No watch. “Listen. I gotta go. I really am running late for work now.”

  She leaned up on tiptoes and kissed me. “Okay then, I’ll see you.”

  She started away. “Wait.” I snatched her hand and pressed my middle and index fingers to her pulse point. “Do you love me?”

  She smiled devilishly, her eyes sparkling in the sunlight spilling into the hall from the bedroom. “Do I love you?” she said, and she brushed my cheek with the back of her free hand. “That’s cute that you want to know.”

  She pulled away. I let go at arm’s reach. As she rounded the corner into the kitchen, I called back to her. “Was that a yes?”

  TWO

  I arrived at the Justice Center around 8:45. Dominic caught me outside the elevator and we rode up to the fourth floor together. I suspected he waited down in the lobby for me to come in, as he always gets there ahead of Carlos and me. I’m not sure why, to work files, sharpen pencils––whatever. Don’t get me wrong. It is not that Dominic needs us there to be productive. It is just that, with respect to detective work, there is often not much to do in a town like New Castle. Crimes here are usually petty, committed by known perpetrators and all but solve themselves before we get involved. Of course, there are exceptions.

  We stepped off the elevator and started down the corridor toward the detectives’ branch. We still had not said more than hello to each other since the lobby, so I thought I would break the conversational ice.

  “Penny for your thoughts?”

  He regarded me queerly. “What?”

  “It’s an expression, Dominic. Ever heard that before?”

  “You want to give me a penny?”

  “I want to know what’s on your mind. What is it, the wedding?”

  He seemed relieved by the question. “Yeah well, that’s part of it.”

  “Nervous?”

  “You know it.”

  We came to a door at the end of the hall. I swiped my ID card through a barcode reader. The box below buzzed, granting us access to the detectives’ room. “Dominic, you have nothing to worry about. It’s a simple ceremony with Lilith officiating. You cannot screw it up.”

  “I know that.”

  We settled into a couple of chairs at my desk. “Then what? Is it because it’s a pagan ceremony and not a traditional Catholic wedding?”

  He shook his head. “No, that’s not it. You know I’m non-denominational. I would marry Ursula if she were from Mars.”

  “You mean Venus.”

  “Huh?”

  “Men are from Mars. Women are from Venus.” He gave me that look again. “Oh, come on. You never heard that before?”

  He shook his head. “Tony, I have to ask you. I mean, we’ve talked before about….ahm, you know.”

  “Women?”

  “Yeah, `bout women, but more so…. I mean, you know I have never––”

  “You have never been with a woman before. I know. Dominic, it’s okay.”

  “Oh, I’ve been with a woman before. It’s just that I’ve never been with one…in that way.”

  “Relax.” I leaned across the desk and tapped his arm. “You’ll do fine. Besides, Lilith tells me Ursula has never been with a man before in that way either.”

  “Well, I should hope not, but that’s not entirely my problem.”

  “Whose is it then?”

  “What? No. I mean it’s nobody’s. It is just that, see I am thinking, or been thinking––wondering really, I guess. I know Ursula is different from other women, and not just because she’s from the seventeenth century.”

  “You mean because she’s a witch.”

  “Yes. Exactly. See, I don’t know what to expect from a regular woman, let alone a witch. You, on the other hand, have been with both. Would you mind me asking, is it any different being with Lilith?”

  “Different?” I laughed at that, and at the expense of Dominic’s fragile pride, I’m afraid. I watched him squirm a bit before I realized it, at which point I straightened up in my chair and struck the smile from my face.

  “Dominic, being with Lilith is different not because she’s a witch, but because…well, because Lilith is Lilith. Trust me, as a woman, she likes all the same things other women like, as I’m sure Ursula will like, too.”

  His worrisome expression softened measurably. “You think?”

  “Absolutely, and don’t worry. Unlike me, you have no act to follow. I mean, Lilith had a hundred and fifty years worth of relationships before me. I have no idea where I stack up to that. You on the other hand, you get to set the bar, if you know what I mean.”

  That seemed to comfort him greatly. “I guess you’re right.” he laughed lightly. “I mean, heck, she has never even seen a guy in the buff before. Right?”

  My heart dropped in my chest with those words. I found myself flashbacking to an episode some time ago at the apartment. I had just stripped down for a shower when Ursula popped into the bathroom unexpectedly, catching me, as Dominic might put it, in full buff. I smiled painfully at him until a reply found its way to my lips.

  “That’s right,” I said, lying through my teeth. “She’s never seen a guy in the buff before.”

  He sighed. “That’s good, because I don’t think I could deal with knowing something like that.”

  I made a mental note to remind Ursula not to mention that unfortunate incident to Dominic ever, or at least not until after the wedding. I listened with a wandering mind as Dominic continued talking about Ursula, how pure she is; how innocent and utterly remarkable she is. If he were not so wrapped up in the goodness of Ursula, he might have noticed my attention drifting from the conversation. I started thinking about that awkward encounter, the surprise on Ursula’s face. The sur
prise on mine. And Lilith actually encouraging Ursula to touch me––to touch it. What was she thinking? I loosened my collar, suddenly feeling uncomfortably hot. I was about to get up and excuse myself when Carlos came in.

  “Hey guys. What’s up?”

  I saw that he had stopped at the vending machine downstairs to pick up a Snickers. Some things never change.

  “Carlos. You just coming in?”

  “Me? No.” He hiked his thumb and his candy bar over his shoulder. “I was on a call. Didn’t Dominic tell you?”

  I looked at Dominic. He made a face as though he didn’t care much. “Oh, yeah. Tony, Carlos is on a call.”

  “Not anymore,” said Carlos.

  “What was the call?” I asked.

  He pulled up a seat next to Dominic. “Oh, some sicko lifted a Jane Doe from the hospital morgue.”

  “A body?”

  “Ah-huh.”

  “What the hell for?”

  “Beats me. He didn’t leave a note.”

  “That is sick,” said Dominic.

  Carlos took another bite of his candy bar and shook the stub at me. “So, what did I miss? Were you talking about me?”

  “No. Dominic and I were just talking about Ursula and how––”

  “The wedding,” said Dominic, and the look he gave me told me to let it go. He turned to Carlos and smiled nervously. “She wants to do a handfasting ceremony.”

  “Handfasting? What is that?” He looked at me. I had no idea either.

  “It’s an ancient custom,” Dominic said. “A pagan thing. See, traditionally, the bride and groom spend the last twenty-four hours before the wedding with their hands tied together. It is supposed to strengthen their commitment and symbolizes the eternal bond that they will pledge to one another. It is where the phrase tying the knot comes from.”

  “They walk around like that all day?”

  “Yup, all day.”

  “What do they do when one of them has to….”

  “Go to the bathroom?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t know. I guess they go to the bathroom.”

  “Are you sure about that?” I asked. “Did Ursula suggest this?”

  “Yes. She said she wanted a handfasting wedding. I told her okay.”

  “Did you know what that was?”

  “Sure I knew, but what could I say?”

  “Well, that sucks,” said Carlos. “I wouldn’t want anyone in the bathroom with me when I drop a duce.”

  I laughed openly. “Carlos, trust me. Nobody wants to be in the bathroom with you when you drop a duce.”

  Dominic said, “Can we please not go there?”

  “Ooh, that reminds me. Dominic, Ursula has something for you. I was supposed to bring it with me this morning and give it to you, but I forgot.”

  “What is it?”

  “A promise stone.”

  “A what?” Carlos asked.

  Dominic said, “I know what it is. It is like a river rock. She makes a promise on it, locks the promise in with a spell and then gives it to me. That way I hold her promise for as long as I want and she can’t take it back.”

  “The stone or the promise?”

  “Both.”

  “Aww, that’s sweet.”

  “Yes, sticky sweet,” I said. “Sorry, Dominic. I’ll go back to the house later today and get it for you.”

  “All right, but while you’re there, don’t mention to Ursula that I said anything about the handfasting thing.”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t. Carlos.” I gave a nod. “Would you get the phone?”

  “What?” He alternated glances between the phone and me. Two seconds later, it rang.

  He answered it. “Detective Rodriquez, Second Precinct. How may I help you?”

  Dominic continued. “Like I was saying, Tony, I don’t want Ursula to think I have reservations about spending the day before the wedding bond to her.”

  “I understand. I promise I won’t say a word. But I will ask Lilith if there are provisions in the custom allowing for bathroom breaks.”

  “No. Don’t. She will only tell Ursula. You know, on second thought, forget I said anything at all.”

  “Dominic, I don’t know why you––”

  “That’s it,” said Carlos, hanging up the phone with a heavy hand. “We have to roll.”

  “Where to?”

  “That was a Mister Ferguson at the Biocrynetix Laboratories down off Lexington. Seems someone stole company plans to a top-secret project they were working on. We gotta go check it out.”

  “All right,” I said, wringing my hands briskly. “A nice white collar crime for a change. This should be good.” I stood and came around the desk. “You driving?”

  Carlos pulled his keys from his pocket. “Can we take my Corvette?”

  I snatched the keys from his hand as I brushed passed him. “Sure. I’ll drive?”

  Out in the parking lot, I clicked the remote alarm button on Carlos’ keychain. A black Corvette five spaces down chirped twice. I looked at Carlos, convinced there must be a mistake.

  “It’s black,” I said.

  “Yes.”

  “I thought you had a red Corvette.”

  “I do.”

  “But now you also have a black one?”

  “Ah-huh.”

  “How come?”

  “I don’t know. I wanted a black one.”

  “So, you have two Corvettes now?”

  “No. I have four.”

  “You have four cars?”

  He grimaced mildly. “No, I have seven cars.”

  “Seven?”

  “Yes. Four vets, a Mercedes, a dune buggy and a monster truck.”

  “You have a monster truck?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Carlos, why on earth do you need seven vehicles?”

  He laughed. “Tony, I don’t need seven vehicles. Who needs seven vehicles?”

  “That’s my question. Why do you have seven?”

  He gave me that look again. “Because the garage I bought has seven bays.”

  I rolled my eyes skyward. “You win twelve million dollars in a lottery and this is what you do with your money?”

  “No. Not all of it.”

  “Good. You still have some left?”

  “Of course.” He punched me on the arm and snorted when he laughed. “But it wasn’t twelve million, you know.”

  “I thought it was.”

  “I took the cash lump sum, $4,669,714. That’s after taxes.”

  “My-my. However do you manage?”

  “I get by.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “That reminds me. Can I borrow a twenty?”

  “You want to borrow money from me?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What for?”

  “The Vette needs gas.”

  “And you have no money on you?”

  “No, but I’ll give it back to you on payday.”

  “You are kidding, right?”

  He blinked back a perplexing gaze. “I’m not kidding. You know I’m good for it.”

  “Carlos, that’s not what I….” I took a breath and counted to three. “Yes, of course. I know you’re good for it.” I pressed the keys to his chest. “Maybe you should drive. I think I’m going to be sick.”

  I started toward the car. Carlos called out, “Wait. If you’re going to be sick, maybe we should take the sedan.”

  THREE

  Security at Biocrynetix Laboratories seemed unusually tight for a private research facility. After obtaining clearance from a guard at the gate, one at the front door and another at the reception station, we still needed to show our police IDs just to ride the elevator up to the research floors. Even our own Justice Center did not sport that kind of security. But then, at the Justice Center we did not deal in sensitive R&D programs worth billions in market returns.

  J.P. Ferguson, CEO of Biocrynetix Laboratories, kept an office on the third floor overlooking a manmade pond,
complete with gazebo, a dock and a flock of portly-bellied Mallards. He invited us in, and after introductions, offered up a couple of seats across from his desk.

  “Mister Ferguson,” said Carlos, “I’m the one you spoke with over the phone awhile ago.”

  “Of course, Detective Rodriquez. I told you then, and for the benefit of your partner, I will reiterate. I wish to keep this investigation low-keyed, if you know what I mean.”

  “You don’t want publicity.”

  “Exactly. Our investors hail from the private sector. They guard their portfolios fiercely and prefer anonymity. We are on the cusp of introducing a serious breakthrough in developments. Therefore, it remains imperative we keep this news under wraps for our clients’ sake, so not to compromise their leverage in post-production negotiations.”

  “Negotiations?”

  “In controlling the disposition of the product.”

  “I see.” Carlos jotted something into his notebook, though I doubt it was more than a series of question marks, for neither he nor I had a clue what Ferguson was talking about. I waited until Carlos gave me the look, effectively handing the torch off to me.

  “Mister Ferguson,” I said. “Would you mind telling us what that is? The product, I mean.”

  He hesitated, clearly debating whether we needed to know such specifics. I leaned forward in my chair, elbows on my lap, hands folded between my knees. “Sir.” I kept my tone hushed and deliberate. “We appreciate the sensitive nature of corporate competition and your obligation to prevaricate the esoterically challenged. However, I remind you, we are here to investigate the theft of your company’s property. It will help considerably in our investigation if we know what that property is.”

  He leaned back in his seat and offered a reluctant smile. “Of course. You are absolutely correct.” He laced his fingers behind his head, leveled his eyes more at me than at Carlos and took a deep breath. “The property, as you call it, is a compound called QE647, a synthetic food additive four-thousand times sweeter than high-fructose corn syrup.”

  “A sweetener?”

  “You are surprised?”

  “A little,” I said, cracking a half smile. “So, our bandit has a sweet tooth?”