Starstruck Witch

by January Daphne

  Debbie turned her gaze back to me. “Savannah, there are some people who are skeptical that Tom Nelson’s death was accidental given the series of accidental deaths that happened on the set of the original Devil’s Charade eight years ago. That was yours and Blake’s first movie together, and it was also filmed on Wolf Mountain. Do you care to comment on whether or not these deaths are connected?”

  No, I certainly did not care to comment. This was information that Savannah had neglected to tell me. Blake, too.

  I didn’t know how to answer that question, but I did know I was very happy to be turning back into Natalie Wilder in a matter of hours.

  Savannah needed a lawyer, like yesterday, because she was starting to look pretty guilty. If this reporter pressed me on why I was in a cell phone video kissing the victim, Savannah might as well stay hiding out in that remote cabin forever. Even if she could prove she had nothing to do with the murder, her reputation would be ruined.

  “Tom Nelson’s death was an accident,” I said again. “A terrible tragedy and my deepest condolences go out to Tom Nelson’s loved ones. That’s all I’m going to say about that,” I said, firmly.

  “Thank you, Savannah,” Debbie said, seeming a bit disappointed by my vague response. “But, please, if you would, I have one more question for you.” She paused, and I felt knots forming in my stomach.

  “How do you think Vicki Burgess, your long-time stand-in, would have done if she had been cast as the lead in Devil’s Charade eight years ago, instead of you?” Debbie asked “Sources say that she was originally cast in that role, but Tom Nelson who also produced the original Devil’s Charade, changed his mind at the last minute.”

  This was also new information, and I gathered that this reporter was trying to establish some connection between Vicki Burgess and Tom Nelson’s death. This lady had really done her research.

  This was definitely something worth looking into, but I wasn’t about to throw Vicki under the bus on live TV.

  I cleared my throat. “Vicki Burgess would have been brilliant. She’s gorgeous, talented, and I’m honored every day I get to work with her.”

  “Well, thank you again, Blake and Savannah, and we’ll be early awaiting the premiere of Devil’s Charade II next spring.”

  14

  Chef Frederick had created a simple spread of sandwiches, fresh fruit, and potato salad for the news crew and all the people working on Devil’s Charade II who were hanging around the lodge, enjoying a day off.

  Blake and I moved down the buffet table, filling our plates. Benjamin leapt up, nipping at the hem of my shirt, desperate to get my attention.

  “Lulu, don’t you fret.” I swatted him away. “I’m getting some extra cold cuts for you, but let’s not forget, your stomach is about a third of the size it normally is.”

  Benjamin scrambled between my legs, almost tripping me up. “Don’t forget the potato salad! Two scoops will do,” he said.

  Rolling my eyes, I dumped two spoonfuls of potato salad on my plate. Blake, Benjamin and I made our way to a table. I used my plastic fork to separate my side and Benjamin’s side of the place. Then I hoisted him on my lap and let him have at it.

  Benjamin was an ancient mythical creature who was at least five hundred years old, but in that time, he hadn’t quite managed to master food portioning. If he tried right now to eat his usual amount of food, he’d end up with an awful stomach ache.

  I turned to Blake. “What the heck was she talking about with those other deaths that happened when you were filming the original Devil’s Charade? And why didn’t you mention it before?”

  “I thought you knew,” Blake said. “It was major news at the time.” Blake chewed his food thoughtfully. “I haven’t brought it up again because I know for a fact that the creatures who killed those people eight years ago were taken care of. Martha saw to that.”

  “Are you saying those deaths were from supernatural causes, too?” I asked, taking a bite of my ham sandwich.

  “Yes,” Blake said. “The murders eight years ago were what prompted Martha to banish the shapeshifters who lived on the mountain.”

  I grabbed Benjamin by the shoulders and pulled him away from the plate. “And why didn’t you mention any of this before?” I whispered.

  The poodle licked around his mouth, unperturbed by my anger. “Because it’s irrelevant. As the neighbor stated, the shapeshifters from eight years ago are gone.”

  “Every single one?” I said.

  “Yes,” Benjamin insisted. “And she was very secretive about the whole ordeal. I sensed she felt some regret for how the situation unfolded.” Then he burped in my face.

  I groaned and set the tiny poodle on the floor. “OK, I think you’ve had enough to eat.”

  Benjamin must have agreed because instead of arguing, he sniffed at the leg of my chair, and then laid down on the floor.

  At the same time, I was starting to feel tired, too. The transformation spell was probably getting close to wearing off.

  Blake reached across the table and placed his hand on top of mine. “The deaths eight years ago were very different from the one that happened last night. This shapeshifter transformed into Savannah Silver, and then Tom’s late wife, Janet. There’s something personal there. Why else would they have done that? The shapeshifters from eight years ago kept to themselves. They didn’t have any connections to Tom Nelson. Tom Nelson didn’t even fly out to Wolf Mountain for the first movie. He stayed in L.A..”

  “But then why did these shapeshifters eight years ago murder people on the set of your movie?”

  “I never found out.” Blake shrugged. “Martha wouldn’t tell me much about it, just that she took care of it.”

  “Don’t you think it’s possible that the same shapeshifter who was killing people eight years ago is the same one responsible for Tom Nelson’s death. Vicki Burgess has been Savannah's stand in for eight years now. Do you think that’s a coincidence? And what about Tina Price? She’s known Savannah for a long time.”

  “I suppose it’s possible,” Blake said. “But that doesn’t sound like Martha. When Martha said she took care of a problem, she took care of it.”

  “Maybe she made a mistake,” I said.

  “But that’s just it,” Blake said. “That woman didn’t make mistakes.”

  Just then, Lenny shuffled over with a plate of food. “Sorry to interrupt, but can I talk to you, Savannah?”

  I motioned to the chair beside me. “Sure.”

  Lenny’s eyes darted toward Blake for a moment, then back to me. “Alone.”

  I looked over to Blake, who was already wadding up his paper napkin and dropping it on his nearly empty plate. “Sure. I’ve got to take care of some things anyway. Nice catching up with you, Savannah.”

  After Blake was out of earshot, Lenny leaned in close. “I set up a conference call with your PR team and lawyers to do damage control after that awful interview. It’s scheduled for first thing tomorrow.”

  I nodded. “That’s probably a good idea.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t warn you. I had no idea they’d be asking questions like that. You handed them well, but we need to figure out a way to manage this before it totally wrecks your reputation.”

  I shrugged. “It’s probably going to be a big deal for a little while, but you know how these things blow over. I know from experience that sometimes even negative media attention can help someone’s career in entertainment.” I took another bite of my sandwich, feeling Lenny’s eyes on me.

  “You’re taking this awfully well,” Lenny said. “I’d have thought an interview like that would have been more, um, upsetting to you.”

  I swallowed. “I’ve been doing more yoga. It’s made me more relaxed.”

  “Sure,” Lenny said, unconvinced.

  I was feeling more tired by the moment, but wanted to see if Lenny had any information that could shed some light on the case. “While you're here, I just wanted to ask—did you know anything about Tom Nelson’s
accident?”

  Lenny shifted in her chair. “Why do you want to know that?”

  She sounded a tad defensive to me, so I proceeded with caution. “I don’t want to get blindsided in an interview again, so I want all the facts I can get.”

  Lenny began folding and unfolding an abandoned napkin on the table. “You know I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, but honestly, I don’t know much.” she said. “That night, I was at the party with Tina and Vicki. Tina bailed pretty early, but Vicki and I stayed to the end.”

  “But you and Vicki weren’t around when the actual accident happened,” I clarified. “Right?”

  Lenny frowned, her thin eyebrows knitted together. “How did you know that? You weren’t there either.”

  “Let’s just say I’ve been doing some research of my own,” I said. “Just between you and me, do you think Tom’s death was an accident? I mean, I know that video was obviously fake, but I find it hard to believe Tom just stepped off a ledge while taking a stroll through the woods.”

  Lenny nodded cautiously. “I’m not sure one way or another, but I think maybe there’s some truth to what that reporter was saying today—the rumors about Vicki.”

  “About Vicki?” My pulse quickened. I had a feeling Lenny was about to open up to me about something. “Why do you think that?”

  Lenny glanced over her shoulder as if checking to see if anyone was close enough to hear. In a whisper, she said, “Vicki was drinking that night at the party. You know how she gets when she has too much to drink. She was in a mood, trying to pick fights with anyone about anything. I tried to get her to walk back to the lodge with me, but she wasn’t having it. She got belligerent and started yelling about how she lost out on her big break because you got the role in Devil’s Charade and it launched your career.” Lenny shook her head. “It’s crazy to me that after eight years, she’s still so angry about what happened. She thinks you only got the part because of your, um, relationships with Mr. Nelson at the time. Then she just stormed away from me, and I didn’t see her the rest of the night. She didn’t get back to the hotel room until after midnight. I asked her about it in the morning and she said she had been taking a walk, blowing off steam. I don’t know if I believe her.”

  I nodded. Vicki and Lenny were rooming together at the lodge, so she would know better than anybody whether or not Vicki was in bed at the time of Tom Nelson’s murder. “But then, how do you explain the video?”

  Lenny’s eyes grew wider as she spoke. “That’s what really got me thinking about it. Vicki’s been taking online film classes for the last year since her acting career isn’t really taking off. She knows how to edit movies, and she has kind of a dark sense of humor. I could see her doing something like that.”

  I poked at my cashew salad on my half of the plate, processing what Lenny had said. “Do you think it’s possible she was responsible for the other deaths that happened on the movie sets over the last eight years?”

  Lenny made little circles on the table with her finger. “Maybe, but I have no idea why Vicki would want to do something like that.”

  “Did you mention any of this to the sheriff?”

  Lenny shifted in her chair, fidgeting. “Of course not. I didn’t want to get her in trouble. What if I’m wrong?”

  “In that case, I appreciate you telling me,” I said.

  Then I scooped up a forkful of cashew salad on my plate and was about to shove it in my mouth when Lenny’s arm shot out and grabbed my wrist.

  Startled, I dropped the fork and the salad slipped into my lap. “What was that for?” I demanded, as I watched Benjamin sniff at the bits of salad, dried cranberries and cashews scattered across the dining room carpeting.

  Lenny was looking at me like I’d totally lost my mind. “You’re allergic to tree nuts,” she said. “Seriously, Savannah, what is up with you today? You just nearly killed yourself.”

  15

  Those storm clouds that had been forming all day looked as if they were minutes from bursting by the time Benjamin and I had finished up at the lodge. The air felt heavy with humidity.

  Despite his whining, I carried Benjamin under my arm because his little legs just wouldn’t go fast enough to keep up with me.

  I could feel a weariness in my body that I guessed was the transformation spell wearing off. I wanted to get a chance to talk to Vicki before I turned back into me, but I wasn’t sure I’d make it.

  I walked down the line of trailers, heading for the lodge. With any luck, Vicki was in her room. If not, I’d ask around until I found her. I’d already tried her cell phone, but she hadn’t answered.

  Lightning flashed, and I figured it was the storm breaking.

  But then it flashed again.

  This time I noticed it had been accompanied by a clicking sound.

  I whirled around, searching for where the flash had come from.

  Roger Spitz stood directly behind me, gripping his camera and wearing a look of contempt on his round cheeks.

  I spun back around and kept walking. “I don’t have time for this, Roger.” I wasn’t going to give this man what he wanted.

  Instead of leaving me alone, Roger followed after me, taking picture after picture.

  “Why are you taking pictures of me?” I demanded. “I’m not even doing anything remotely interesting.”

  His shoes crunched on the gravel.“Oh, don’t be so modest.”

  “No, seriously. I’m literally just walking to the lodge with my dog. Don’t you have enough photos of me to sell?”

  Roger slung the camera strap over his head. “I’m not selling these photos. These will all go in my report when I blow this case right open. I’ve some footage of you that goes way beyond your dumb off-screen romances. It’s going to be major news.”

  The arrogance in his tone grated on me. “And what?” I asked. “This major news requires you to take pictures of me 24/7?”

  “Absolutely,” he said, not backing down. “It all came into focus when I saw the video that kid took of Tom Nelson’s last moments. I made him send it to me. I threatened him with a lawsuit. Poor kid actually believed me. I scared the pants off him.” Roger coughed, and I suspected the exertion from walking and talking was giving his shortness of breath. “Once I catch you in the act again, it will be hard and harder for the public to believe the film’s been edited, and you people will be exposed for good.”

  I froze. Then turned around slowly. “What do you mean ‘you people’?”

  “Quit playing dumb. I know what you can do.” Roger was panting now. “Shapeshifters can change into anyone at any time. I have the footage from the night of the party, I have footage from this morning, and the next time you shift, I’ll be there to record it. All this time you’ve been hiding who you are. Now, your secret is about to get out—you’re the monster behind the Devil’s Charade murders.”

  Cold drops of rain began to sprinkle down all around us, but neither Roger nor I moved a muscle. Benjamin’s poodle body was trembling, but knowing Benjamin, it was because of adrenaline rather than fear.

  “How do you know about shapeshifters?” I asked.

  Roger smiled triumphantly as he hitched up his pants. “When you spend all your life behind the lens of a camera, you see things that others miss. I’ve been investigating you ever since those mysterious deaths that happened eight years ago. It’s what made me want to get into photography.”

  “You’re lying,” I said. “You’re a paparazzi. I’ve seen your photos in numerous tabloids. The only thing you’ve been investigating is how to make money at the expense of someone else's reputation.”

  “Says the woman who has now killed multiple people in cold blood,” Roger said. “So what if I sold some pictures of celebrities to fund my paranormal investigations. Let’s face it—you all signed up for that when you decided to become movie stars. People like me give people like you free publicity, but now, I have almost everything I need to finally prove my theory. Monsters exist—there are creatu
res who look just like people who can transform into anyone as easily as breathing.”

  “Roger, listen to me. Whatever you think you know, you’re wrong. I’m not the shapeshifter. I don’t know where you got that information, but it’s not true. I’m just a woman.”

  Sort of, I thought.

  “I caught you in the act. I have actual footage of you changing into a completely different woman,” he said.

  What was he talking about? There was no possible way he could have seen me change into Savannah. I’d done the spell in the windowless basement of the cabin.

  No, whatever Roger Spitz had footage of it must have been of the actual shapeshifter. Maybe she had appeared to Roger in the form of Savannah, but shifted into another woman. Maybe neither of those forms was her true form.

  Or perhaps the shapeshifter was Roger Spitz, himself, and he was playing me, creating damning evidence against Savannah for some reason. As far as I knew, Roger Spitz didn’t have a valid alibi.

  However, he didn’t seem to have an obvious motive for killing Tom Nelson.

  “Who did I change into?” I asked. “I need to know. I think this is much more complicated than you realize and that more people are in danger. It’s really important that I see whatever evidence you’re talking about so that the murderer can be arrested and no one else on this set gets hurt.”

  “You really are an actress, huh?” Roger smiled. “Always in character. Sure, I’ll let you see the footage, but it’s going to cost you.”

  Extortion? I thought. So much for Roger wanting to expose these so-called supernatural secrets to the world under the guise of making a discovery.

  “This is all about money for you,” I said.

  The rain was coming down harder now, and I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand.

  “Consider it killing two birds with one stone,” he replied. “I’m still going public with the video, just like I did with the other one. However, if you pay up, I’ll hold off on releasing it, so you have enough time to leave the country. If that sounds worth it to you, meet me back here at midnight with this amount of money.” He held out a folded piece of paper. “Come alone. If you’re not there, I’m sending this video to every new outlet in the country at 12:01.”