by Iris Kincaid
Gemma ran to the door, mind racing. Edison had built the bomb, set the bomb under Zelda’s control, and he was about to take the fall for it. Inside, she found Edison being confronted by Finn, who gestured to Gemma to take a seat.
Finn saw no reason to beat around the bush. “I don’t need to know anything right now about cars or bombs or your technical skills. All that can wait till later,” Finn said. “But what we want to hear right now is why. Tell us why.”
Edison was the classic deer frozen in the headlights. Should he deny? Should he call a lawyer? Should he run for it? Nothing but bad options. Telling the truth would actually come with its own reward. Taking in a deep breath, the young man looked grimly relieved—not unlike Gemma remembered Hugh Shipley during a different confession.
“She’s always had a problem with drinking. All of my teachers knew it. And I saw that other parents were different—they were okay, and it was embarrassing. But she was my mom, so I took care of her. I cleared away all of her bottles, and I made sure she always had breath mints to go to work so that she wouldn’t get fired for drinking.
“Someone once told me that people who drink too much can throw up while they’re sleeping and suffocate. And that had me so worried. I would check on her in the middle of the night, every night. I would set my alarm clock for two o’clock in the morning, and then go to check on her every night, and when I saw that she was okay, I would reset the clock and then I could sleep till morning.
“And then, when I was fourteen, she just . . . she pulled herself together and she got clean. She went to AA meetings. And it was a struggle for her, but she did it, and then we became like a normal family. She would make dinner. She would keep the house clean. She would ask about my homework. She even bought me a bike, and then she bought one for herself, and we would go out riding together. Everything was finally good.
“And then she met Zander. And then she met Ty. And they both dragged her back into drinking. They said—just one. One won’t hurt you. You’ve got things under control. I told her not to listen to them, but it was me she didn’t listen to. And in a few weeks, things were right back the way they used to be. Except worse. Because with Zander and Ty around, there was no way she was ever going to stop again.
“I wanted to protect her. But that wasn’t the right way. That was a terrible thing to do. I must’ve snapped. I mean, I remember doing it. I did do it. I set that bomb. I killed Zander. I just don’t know why. I can’t explain to you why. I never thought I could do anything like that. But I did. I killed another human being.” He let out a huge painful sigh.
Everyone was silent for a good long time.
“Edison, why don’t you go and . . . what were you doing when we got here?” Gemma asked
“Washing the dishes. I try to have them done before my mom gets home.”
“Finish up those dishes.” Gemma said. “We need to talk a minute. Go on. Finish up those dishes for your mother.”
Edison rose on shaky legs and disappeared into the kitchen.
“I feel like crying,” Lorna said. “This is such a horrible situation.”
Finn nodded grimly. “I’ve met a lot of kids like him. Never had a real childhood because the adults around them had messed up so badly. And they have to wind up taking care of their own parents. Most of them get compromised, really badly.”
“Edison has been compromised by a witch. Nora Beale,” Gemma informed them. She relayed the conversation that she just had with the sinister witch outside.
“Why? Why would she do such a horrible thing? And involve an innocent young man?” Lorna asked.
“She wanted Zander Knox dead—for his ashes, long story—and why did she drag Edison into it? Probably for the same reason she tricked me into running into a burning building to save a child that didn’t exist. She loves to watch human suffering. It’s her entertainment.” Gemma turned to Finn. “We can’t let him be punished for this. Zelda’s the killer. Edison is just a pawn.”
Finn shook his head. “I hear what you’re saying, and I see what happened. But believe me, “the witch did it” sounds a whole lot like “the dog ate my homework.” It’s not gonna fly. Not with any judge and not with any jury. Here’s the thing . . . a murder was committed, and I just heard a confession, and I’m an officer of the law. I can’t pretend that I didn’t just hear Edison say that he killed a man. Even though he’s had it so rough. Even though there was some witch involvement.
“I wish . . . I just wish that we had never figured it out. I wish that I had never heard that confession. And I wish that boy was headed for college and that the world was his oyster. I really do ”
Lorna was sitting next to Finn. She nodded and put her hand on his arm. “Then . . . Forget about it.”
“Forget about what?” Finn said, sincerely clueless. Then looking at the guilty look on Lorna’s face, he added, “Did you just pull some voodoo on me?”
“Yeah. But it was at your request.”
“That’s pretty hard to imagine.”
“Isn’t it? Yes, it was an uncharacteristically sweet impulse.”
“Anything to do with murder?”
“I’m afraid that murder may never get solved.”
Gemma was quickly adjusting to the fact that Finn no longer knew who had killed Zander Knox. She gestured to Lorna, and the two of them huddled in the corner.
“What about the boy? He expects to be taken away and put in prison.”
“I can make him forget about committing the murder. Should I?” Lorna asked.
It was a no-brainer. “Yes. Murder is too much of a burden to carry around for the rest of his life. On top of everything else he’s had to carry in his life, it’s too much. And Zelda is the one responsible for this. Let’s give him a fresh start. Do it.”
Lorna went into the kitchen and came out a minute later with Edison at her side. “It’s such a beautiful day out. Who wants gelato?”
“Well, I never say no to a good gelato,” Finn said. “I’ve never even said no to a sub-par gelato. Are we celebrating something?”
Gemma nodded. “We just solved the cold case murder of one of your fellow cops and gave some closure to a family and community in Texas over this long unsolved crime. So yeah, gelato. Edison, you’ll join us, won’t you? Our treat.”
Heck, yeah. It had been a long time since the adults around him had treated Edison to anything.
CHAPTER TWELVE: EPILOGUE
With the assistance of Mayor Wanda Macomber, strings were pulled, and Neil and Hugo wound up at the same Texas prison. Neil would be eligible for parole after eight of his fifteen-year sentence, and Hugo after four of seven years. His attempts at restitution had indeed resulted in a relatively light sentence.
*****
The Mayor was also happy to participate, alongside her fiancé, Jeremy, Gemma, Lorna and her boyfriend Max, Delphine, and Finn, in a very impressive intervention staged at the Jewell household. It wasn’t aimed at Erica’s drinking, although that might eventually be necessary. It was aimed at Ty Santos, to deliver this message—hit the road.
Ty found himself staring down seven people who were telling him that he needed to step away from Erica Jewell’s life and that she and her son, Edison, never needed to see him, ever again. And if he wasn’t on board with that, there would be consequences. They didn’t go into any great detail. But they were a pretty scary group. Especially the women. Ty hit the road.
*****
The first time that Gemma came home to find Bethany shrieking at the Red Sox game on television, she knew that it was time to introduce her roommate to muscleman Otto Ramsey. With the gym and the daycare center right next door to one another, it was a wonder that they had never met before. But after one evening together at the sports bar, they were thoroughly lovestruck and nearly inseparable.
*****
One afternoon, at a picnic bench in the park with Roland and Dax, Gemma was approached by a well-built man in his late fifties. She remembered his face from the gym.
He pulled out a big wad of bills and enticingly laid out three thousand dollars, in one-hundred-dollar bills, right in front of her.
“Three thousand bucks. All yours if you can beat me arm wrestling,” he challenged her.
“Three thousand dollars. If I can beat you at wrestling. Are you serious?” Gemma asked.
“Serious as a heart attack,” he responded.
“Do it, do it, do it,” Dax crowed. But Roland shook his head—this didn’t seem like a good plan.
A crowd was quickly gathering around them. Gemma sure could use that money. And beating him wasn’t going to be a problem. Making it look as if it was a big struggle for her, that was going to be the big trick. So, Gemma agreed, the money was scooped up into a nearby pile, and the arm wrestling commenced.
Gemma did her best with a pretense of straining and struggling and of just barely being able to, Bam, claim the victory! The crowd was hugely impressed. Roland was speechless.
“So, is that three thousand dollars really mine?”
The man scooped up the dollars and put them back in his pocket. “Yeah, but not right now. You can get it all in your first month’s paycheck. I’m Chief Wilson—the fire chief here. You may not remember me, but I certainly remember you from that night you ran into a burning house and pulled a very heavy Mr. Phillips out. I also remember you doing some crazy bench pressing at the gym.
“The thing is, six of my guys went out west during the last California wildfires to lend a hand, and four of them decided to stay. They figured they were needed. And hey, it’s California. So, we’re super shorthanded here. We need some new firefighters immediately. I’ve heard you whining a lot at the gym about needing a job. What do you say? You look like it’s a yes. Is that a yes?”
Gemma nodded vigorously. “It’s a big, big yes!”
“We’re gonna start you out with EMT training. We do a whole lot more than put out the flames. We save lives all kinds of ways.”
“That’s what she’s good at. She knows how to rescue people,” Dax bragged.
“Yeah, I noticed. Stop by the station tomorrow for the paperwork.”
Gemma could hardly believe it. This was what she’d wanted all along, to matter, to help people, to make a difference.
After the chief left and the crowd dispersed, Dax jumped around excitedly. “They should make something for you like a bat signal, like something to shine in the air when they need you.”
“There’s a thought. Or . . . maybe I could just give them my cell,” Gemma suggested.
Dax leaned in and whispered to his father, “Do you believe it now?”
“What? That I’m going to marry Wonder Woman? I do. I absolutely do.”
Roland was already becoming fast aware what a remarkable woman he had fallen in love with. Gemma’s participation in foiling the bank robbery had become front-page news. Roland laminated the story and gave it a place of honor on their wall.
What a dazzling and courageous woman she was. He couldn’t have been prouder. And now this . . . firefighter job! And, he would forever be grateful to her for helping him become a better father, one who actually knew how to play. After all, it’s said that the family that plays together, stays together.
Toward that end, a brand-new ping-pong table was acquired and installed in the basement family room at the Carmichael household. It was destined to provide hours of future entertainment and happiness. For Ping-Pong.
*****
Now that Delphine had forced Lilith to confront the fog of amnesia that surrounded her assassination, she was convinced that it held the key to the identity of her murder. Why couldn’t she remember? Could someone have taken her memory away from her?
Zelda. How she would love to give her old rival a good throttling. Nothing would infuriate Lilith more than to learn that a silly jealousy was behind her demise. But, unfortunately, her memory of that day was gone, and there was no good reason to hope that it would return. Unless . . . one of these transplants was able to inherit her memory, access her memories. It was an inspired thought.
Lilith knew very well which of her remaining body parts that Dr. Svenson had in storage. Her brain was still there. The brain that contained the memory of every moment of her ninety-two years of life. So—her brain. Someone else’s body. Memories restored. It was a plan. As for the fact that there’s no such thing as a brain transplant . . . details, details . . .
Notes from the Author
R.I.P. STEPHEN HAWKING (1942-2018)
Be sure to check on Amazon.com for the entire One Part Witch Series.
Next up - The Witch's Blood - coming in May 2018
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Iris Kincaid