nancy werlocks diary s02e11
Page 3
“So you decided to help him.”
Nanna Morri nodded. “He can learn. He just never had anyone to teach him. I taught him how to tend to himself, and how to take the bus if he wanted to go somewhere, and I even taught him some basic arithmetic and how to read! Maybe if someone had gotten to him sooner…” She shakes her head. “Anyway, Geoffrey will buy the clippings from you for what you paid for them. He uses them as study aids for the apprentices and in rituals to control the cryptids being studied.”
“So why did Mom never tell me any of this?”
“She would have eventually. She wasn’t planning on dying when she did. And since then there has been so much else going on I suspect it just slipped her mind.”
“So, are there any other surprises I should be anxiously anticipating?”
Nanna flashes a wicked smile. “Now, Nancy. What fun would it be if I warned you?” And she vanishes back across the veil.
Careful What You Wish For
October 18th,
Scott and I sit in Roy Frazner’s office and listen to his pitiful explanation of the plea deal he offered the man that killed our mother. Scott squeezes my hand in a silent reminder that it would be inappropriate to roast Frasner with Hellfire right now.
“My mother is dead, Mr. Frazner,” I say. “He had a blood alcohol level of almost point two. He shouldn’t have been walking down steps without assistance. Let alone behind the wheel of a car.”
“I understand your frustration, Dr. Werlock, but—”
“No. No you don’t understand my frustration. You told us when he didn’t take the original plea deal that you were going to throw everything at this guy to make an example of him. Now I’m supposed to just accept him with time served and five years of community service.”
“He’s also losing his driver’s license,” says Frazner.
“Except for that hardship waiver to drive back and forth to work, right?” adds Scott.
“He has a wife and three children to support.”
“And I had a mother. Now I don’t.”
All right. Technically, I still have my mother. But taking to her across the Veil and talking to her across a kitchen table is not the same thing.
“Look, the state is putting a lot of pressure on the courts to reduce prison overcrowding. Mr. Williams had a clean driving record before the incident and no history of crime. With the exception of his terrible lapse of judgment, he is an otherwise productive citizen.”
“My mother was a productive citizen.”
“Dr. Werlock, I was hoping this plea arraignment would save your family any further suffering. A jury trial might not have gone the way you think. Mr. Williams is a…sympathetic…defendant. And his attorney intended to drag this out as long as he could. And your mother may not have…may not have wanted you to have to listen to all of that.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” asks Scott.
“Mr. Werlock. Dr. Werlock. Your mother operated an occult shop. Mr. Williams’ attorney intended to… point that out at trial.”
“What in the Nine Hells does the shop have to do with the fact that that man killed my mother?”
“Nancy,” Scott warns. The smell of sulfur fills the room.
Frazner sniffs the air and makes a sour face. “Must be something in the heating system. Let me open a window. I apologize. I don’t think they cleaned the ducts before turning on the heat.”
I take a deep breath and shake my head.
“There, that’s better,” says Frazner as he returns to his seat. “You can both, of course, speak at the sentencing hearing.”
“Why bother? The decision has already been made.”
“Mr. Williams is remorseful.”
“Remorse doesn’t raise the dead.”
Scott and I storm out of Frazner’s offer but linger in the lobby. Scott leans against the wall and says, “We could file the wrongful death suit.”
“What is that going to accomplish? It is already pretty clear a Christian male with three kids is more valuable than a single pagan woman.”
“Don’t go there, Nancy.”
“You heard the same thing I did, Scott! They were going to make Mom’s religion and occupation an issue at trial, and Frazner balked! He thought the jury would side with Williams! Like Mom…deserved to die.”
“I don’t think that is what he meant.”
“Yeah, well, you keep thinking that.” I throw my hands in the air and walk out of the building. I call the shop and inform Houston. He offers to call Anastasia to see if she can come in for a few hours so I can take the rest of the day off. I tell him I’ll see him at home and get in my car.
What am I supposed to tell my mother? I don’t even have the nerve to face her. I feel like I failed her. Mom hasn’t exactly talked about the accident. I haven’t even talked about the case with her. But the man who killed her is walking away with a slap on the wrist. And there is nothing I can do about it.
I dial Lee’s number. Hearing him say, “Hey, baby” immediately helps me start to feel a little better.
“What time do you get done work?” I ask.
“What time do you need me to be done?”
“You don’t have to drop everything and come running when I call.”
“Technically, that isn’t entirely true. I am your servitor, after all. I’m not complaining, by the way. Pretty sure I got the better end of this deal.”
“You’re getting a little bold for a lemure.”
“I’m sorry, Mistress.”
“You’re so bad.”
“Want me to meet you at the house?”
“No,” I reply and explain to Lee what transpired at Frazner’s office. “I can’t face Mom yet.”
“I have an idea. I’ll pick you up at the shop. Give me an hour. It will be a surprise.”
* * *
Lee’s surprise includes flowers, a bottle of strawberry wine, and a hotel room not far from the house.
“I can just imagine what the clerk at the desk must be thinking, with us checking in with no bags,” I say.
“She’s not thinking anything. When I called to see if they had a room available, I told them my girl was having a bad day and I wanted to surprise her with a little get-away-from-it-all time.” Lee picks up the room service menu. “She even game me a voucher code for 10% off room service.”
“Well, 10% off we have to order something now.”
“They have cheesecake.”
“I’m trying to watch what I eat, Lee.”
“Don’t worry. You’re gonna burn it off.”
After dinner and…cardio…I curl up against Lee in the bed. “You feeling better?” he whispers.
“Yeah. Though I don’t think I completely worked off that cheesecake.”
“It was a big piece of cheesecake. Maybe you need some more excerise.”
“I really should get home and bite the bullet.”
“Your mom isn’t going to be mad at you, Nancy. She’s a smart woman. She knows you don’t have control over the prosecutor’s office.”
“I know. I just feel so helpless. Mom lost her life and he’s just…inconvenienced. It isn’t right.”
“He’ll get his, one day.”
“I hope you’re right. And I hope it happens before he has another ‘lapse of judgment’ and hurts someone else.”
October 19th,
The big story on the morning news is the arrest of a man named Buddy Trailer. And does he ever look like a Buddy Trailer in that mug shot. After the mysterious discovery of a woman’s body at the Old Broad Street Presbyterian Church, police arrested Trailer on the charge of murder. The woman was a prostitute who was last seen with someone resembling Trailer, and the police found evidence in Trailer’s…trailer. No details on the motive, or why he drove all the way from Millville to Bridgeton to try and dispose of the body. But Buddy doesn’t look like a rocket scientist, so it is probably best not to overthink it.
I can’t say the news doesn’t make me a litt
le happy. After all, Houston and I are the ones that uncovered the crime in the first place. Of course, we weren’t looking for a murder victim but rather a ghul at the time. But you know what they say about two birds and a stone.
Mom took the news of Williams plea deal a lot better than I had. Honestly, I’m beginning to think she prefers being dead. When she was alive, she spent most of her time running the shop, performing exorcisms, and worrying after Scott and me. Now when she isn’t helping me deal with Vivika’s machinations, she spends her afterlife going to social clubs. I didn’t even realize they had social clubs on the astral plane.
So I’m in pretty good spirits this morning. I had a nice evening with Lee. Mom is content. And a murder victim has been avenged thanks to me and my apprentice. It was starting to feel like it was going to be a good day.
“And in Cherry Hill, police are investigating a fatal single car accident. The accident occurred around 6 AM on Rt 38. The victim, forty-two year old Shaun Williams of Cherry Hill, was pronounced dead at the scene.”
I freeze in place and stare at the television. The reporter says that Williams appeared to have swerved into a telephone pole while driving to work. They mention the fact that he had previously been involved in an alcohol-related accident that was also fatal, but that no toxicology reports are available yet.
I hear Houston running down the stairs. “Nancy, I just heard on the radio…” He stops and looks at the television. “You gonna be okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be fine. I just…I just wasn’t expecting this.”
My phone rings and I see Lee’s number. “Hey, turn on the news. That Williams guy—”
“Yeah, I already know. I’m watching it now.”
“Well, that should make you feel better.”
“No, Lee. People dying don’t make me feel better.”
There is a long pause before he responds. “I don’t understand. He killed you mother. I thought you wanted him to be punished?”
“Punished. Not dead.”
“Um, I don’t understand.”
“It’s…don’t worry about it right now. I don’t want to do this over the phone.”
“Is this going to be another one of those ‘being human’ lectures?”
“Probably. Don’t worry about it right now.”
“Are you upset?” He sounds worried for me.
“I’m fine, Lee. I’m just a little shocked right now. I’m not upset that he’s dead. But I didn’t want him to die, either.”
“Oh. Okay, you can explain it to me maybe tonight? Over dinner?”
“I’d like that.”
I hang up the phone and turn off the television. I feel a chill up my spine and look around expecting to see Mom or Nanna or even Vivika. But there is nobody there. I shrug it off and go to work.
New to the Nancy Werlock Series?
Get caught up with Nancy Werlock’s Diary: Season One,
which features the first seven episodes of the series in one collection.
And visit Nancy at her website to explore her world.
https://sites.google.com/site/nancywerlock