by A. M. King
“Febe. I don’t want you doing anything foolish.”
“Too late for that. She already dated you, remember?” Aunt Trixie said walking into the living room.
“Auntie!”
“Sorry, child.”
“Oh, I won’t be doing anything foolish,” Febe turned to Jonathan. “But I just have a bad feeling about that concierge. What do you know about him?”
Jonathan shrugged. “He’s new, I think.”
“You think?”
“Well, he wasn’t there when I first moved in. He’s only part time. I think he moonlights doing something else.”
“That’s good. Did you ever have a casual chat with him? What has he told you about his past?”
“Only that he’s from around here.”
“Blackshore Bay? Why didn’t you say something before?”
Jonathan shrugged.
“It’s quite possible he had something to do with your death or knows who did and how you ended up here.”
Jonathan thought about it for a moment. He then sighed. “You know anything’s possible.”
Why did Jonathan seem so casual about it? Didn’t he want to find out who killed him? What was he hiding?
Chapter 14
“What do you mean you can’t open the store in the morning?” Aunt Trixie said to Febe. “Where are you going tomorrow?”
“I’m going to see if I can find out who killed Jonathan.”
“That’s sounds dangerous, child. Be careful.”
“Oh, I will, Auntie. I spoke to Detective Trey. He said the autopsy results are now public. It looks as if Jonathan was intoxicated when he was allegedly hit by a vehicle. They also found a tiny trace of arsenic in his blood.”
“Arsenic?”
“Yep. I think it was made to look like a hit and run, given the rise of incidents in the town. He was intoxicated, but what was he doing with a trace of arsenic in his blood? How did it get there? I’m just going to ask a few questions from his colleagues. Jonathan feels that there was a spy within the department and someone wanted him dead.”
“But how will you find out who? And what if they catch onto your plan to expose them?”
“I’ll be careful.”
Aunt Trixie looked doubtful. She then went into the kitchen as quick as a flash and returned. She held a vial in her hand.
“Trixie, what are you doing?” Aunt Eartha said.
“I’m just helping the girl out a bit. She is a witch you know. Sometimes we need to carry the right tools and thoughts to help us practice our magic.”
“But she’s not fully licensed yet,” Aunt Eartha persisted.
“Oh, come, sister dear. Do you really want her to go to a spy agency asking questions of dishonest people?”
“How do you know they’re dishonest?”
“They wouldn’t be in their line of business if they weren’t, sister dear.”
“What is that?” Febe asked curious.
“Oh, just a bit of verasum.”
“Verasum?” Febe arched her brow.
“Yes, dear. I put together a sweet little potion to assist in unveiling the truth if you need it. I just soaked aromatic wood, gum, and resins in water and added some scented oil, henna, myrrh, cinnamon, and juniper. This can only work under certain circumstances, mind you. And it is a compliment to an incantation.”
“Which incantation, Auntie?”
“Oh, you know. The reveal the truth one. You should have studied it in your third lesson. It cannot be used for any personal gain, but only to help in a crisis when needed.”
“I see.”
Febe took the potion from her aunt carefully as if a spillage would cause her to spill her own secrets, not that she had many. But still, there was stuff she’d rather keep to herself.
“Remember the bearer of the bottle has to have a pure heart with pure intentions to do good for a good outcome.”
“Right. Got it.”
“Remember, anything you use for harm will turn against you. That is the first rule of witching. Well, one of the first rules. Always mean things for well and goodness of others.”
“Right. That I can do.”
Goodness, was Febe ever going to get used to being a witch?
Chapter 15
The following day, Febe couldn’t wait to head over to the Bureau offices where Jonathan had worked. He’d already told her where his former office was situated. She’d go and see if she could find anyone who’d had a vendetta against him or who might know who was out to get Jonathan.
She’d spoken over the phone to Janna, one of his colleagues who seemed all too happy to speak to Febe about him.
“Thanks so much for taking time out of your schedule to see me, Janna,” Febe said.
“Oh, no problem. You mentioned you had a few questions to ask about Jonathan for his eulogy?”
His eulogy? Oh, right. “Yes, that’s right,” Febe said nervously.
“Well, shoot,” she said, chewing gum.
“Well, first of all, what can you tell me about him? His personality?” Febe felt terrible for coming under false pretense, but then she convinced herself it wasn’t all that false. She could write his eulogy. Besides, he’d instructed her to go there to help him find his true killer. She was on a mission. What better way to honor him than by finding out who did this to him so that he could move forward into the light?
“He was always broke,” Janna said, chewing gum and tapping away at her computer. She was in the middle of an assignment but assured Febe that she could multitask.
“He was always broke?” Febe asked.
“Yep.”
Jeez. No one had anything kind to say about Jonathan? Was he that bad?
He cheated on you, girlfriend. Even if he were undercover. Of course, he’s that bad.
She tried to hush that inner witch yapping away inside her mind.
“What do you mean he was always broke?” Febe asked, her mind going over the luxury items in his upscale condo apartment. He sure didn’t seem broke when they’d been dating.
“He was broke in two ways.”
“In two ways?” Febe said, leaning forward with her pen and notepad in hand. She was hoping to get a bit more information than that.
“Yep. He was broke in the bank and in moral values!”
Febe gulped.
Was Jonathan around her? Could he hear what his colleague was saying about him? She scribbled down the notes on her pad, not that it was something she could use for a eulogy. But then again, her plan was to see who really liked him and who despised him enough to want to see him dead. She was there to read everyone’s behavior, if she could manage it.
Well, she knew a thing or two about his bankruptcy in the morals department after he’d cheated on her. She’d found out the hard way.
Tell me again, why you’re helping your cheating ex? Her inner witch taunted her.
Oh, right. Because I need to clear myself of being suspected in his murder—thus hunt down the real killer for the cops. Besides, there must be some redeeming qualities about him. Everyone has a good side, right? I refuse to believe he was all bad.
“I’m not sure I would want to use that in his eulogy. I mean, we’re supposed to be talking about a person’s good traits. Everyone has something redeemable about them.”
Janna thought for a moment. “Nope. Not Jonathan.”
Febe slumped in her chair. “Um...well, I guess...thank you for your time.”
“Hey, no problem, doll. Anytime.”
“Is there someone around here that might have anything kind to say about Jonathan?”
Janna thought for a moment. Then she shook her head. “Nope.” She went back to her typing. Then she stopped suddenly. A smirk touched her lips.
Was she playing games with Febe? Febe wasn’t too impressed right now.
She then remembered the vial she had in her purse and nervously took it out while Janna was typing.
Oh, this had better work, she thought, beads of sweat
appearing on her forehead. Worst case scenario, she’d be the one to spill the beans to Janna about why she was really there: to uncover any spies in the agency. What if Janna was a spy? That would really put Febe’s life in danger.
Febe breathed in a deep breath and incanted in her mind. “Truth is good, reveal all good.” She opened the vial and a strong aroma came out of it. She tried to shut it quickly. The last thing she wanted was for Janna to ask what she was doing. Though it did smell like expensive designer perfume. Aunt Trixie apparently used some herbs and flowers from her garden. But then again, that was the formula for perfumes, right? They had a magical effect all the same. A pleasing aroma to the senses.
Then she changed her mind. I will not be using witchcraft. I’m still a person. I can do this the old-fashioned mortal way.
She tried to shove the vial back into her purse.
Janna got up to file something but noticed Febe fidgeting. “Hey, what is that?” she said curiously as she narrowed her eyes. “Is that some sort of listening device?”
“Um. No. Of course not.”
Janna didn’t seem to believe her and reached over to grab it.
But it was too late, the vial broke and a whiff of perfume scent permeated the air quickly.
Janna froze.
Febe’s jaw fell open. “Are you all right?”
As if in a trance, Janna went back to her desk like a zombie and sat down staring straight into space.
Febe’s heart hammered hard in her chest. Good heavens. What had she done?
“Janna, are you all right?” Febe asked concerned as she moved closer to Janna’s desk. She hoped and prayed no one would walk into Janna’s office seeing what was happening. How on earth would she be able to explain that?
Janna sighed deeply, a pleasant expression on her face. “Jonathan and I had dated a while back. He broke up with me and started dating Lucky in marketing,” Janna began, her voice sounding slightly robotic.
Febe was stumped.
“What?”
“And he already had another girlfriend—an older woman. Lucky told me he had been two-timing me. She was furious when she found out he had another woman at his condo.”
“His condo?” Febe thought for a moment. But she was the woman at his condo. His fiancée.
“Are you sure he had an older woman?” Febe asked.
“Yep. His old girlfriend cut him off financially to punish him when she found out about his flirting.”
“I see.” This must have been before he started seeing Febe.
“Oh, and my cousin is his bookie. He told me Jonathan was planning on paying him back $20,000 in cash. Obviously he was up to something or coming into some kind of money. He owed the book $20,000 and change.”
“Twenty-thousand dollars?”
“And change.”
“Coming into some money, huh?”
Was Jonathan planning on bumping someone off for an insurance payout?
Chapter 16
The following day at the café, Febe hurried around the counter serving coffee and breakfast for her patrons.
The tasty western omelet with French fries and pancakes was very popular at the Summer Café. The chef added a nice touch with a slice of orange. The breakfast was served with freshly-squeezed orange juice or freshly brewed coffee.
The sound of chatter and cutlery scraping plates and the aroma of coffee and fried eggs were oddly comforting. Maybe it was the scent of the comfort food or the cheery expressions of the wonderful customers who seemed happy about eating out and having someone cater to them for a change on a busy day.
Many of the patrons were on their way to work, and some of them were retirees who didn’t like to dine alone.
She peeked out the window. Yella was, as always, on the sidewalk playing his guitar. Such a beautiful ballad. She could use a good pick-me-up tune right now.
She could see the blue water sparkling in the distance out the window under the sunshine. It was a perfect location to have the café by the lake. What a view.
“I knew that guy was a no-good two-timer,” Janvier whispered to her when they had some down time.
“Fine, you were right. I just can’t believe he’d dated so many women. I wish I knew about his older girlfriend. I need to get her name to see if she might have had something to do with his death.”
“This Janna girl or Lucky didn’t tell you?”
“No. They don’t know her name. They only know she was older and had a lot of money.”
“Well, look at that. And surprise, surprise, Johnny boy is M.I.A..”
Just then the glass door opened and the door chime sounded. Sergeant Heart walked into the café and sat at the counter.
“Good morning, Sergeant!” Febe said as cheerfully as she could. “What will it be today, sir?”
“The truth.”
Febe’s heart stopped.
“The truth?”
Well, that wasn’t exactly on the menu, but Febe had a sinking feeling he wasn’t talking about the order of food.
“I’m here to grab a western omelet, your famous smile and some answers,” he said, pointedly.
“Oh. Um. Okay, now that’s a tall order. Let’s see if I can fill it for you.” She half-grinned.
“One western omelet with home-made French fries and three strips of well-done bacon on the side,” Febe called out to the cook while she punched in the order on the cash register. She then rang up the order and he paid her.
After closing the till, she went to get the rest of his order.
“Seriously, though,” he said. “My nephew seems to trust you and think that you’re on the up and up but there’re a few things I don’t understand.”
“Like what?” Febe said, pouring a fresh cup of coffee for the Sergeant. She already knew his regular routine. Some people liked to have things the same every day. And she was already getting used to everyone’s routines and their favorites. It was as if she had to memorize and store it as a mental bookmark. She was all too happy to do that. That was one of the reasons the Summer Café was so popular. The guests were treated well and their orders were always the way they liked them. Individualized or personalized service. One of the things she’d been taught was to make sure she knew the names and preferences of all the regulars there. And Sergeant Heart and his crew from the local police station were certainly long-time regulars.
Sergeant Heart took off his cap and rubbed his forehead, then replaced his cap again. He looked ragged, as if he’d been up all night.
“Your prints were everywhere in your ex’s condo.”
“Well, that’s no surprise. I used to hang out there a lot. He was my fiancé at one time, remember?”
“But they were there recently.”
“Right.” Febe swallowed hard.
“Where were you three nights ago between the hours of eight and midnight?” He said in a direct tone.
“I was...um...well,” she hesitated.
He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
“I was with my sister, Janvier,” she said truthfully. That wasn’t a lie, right? Witches were supposed to be honorable and helpful to authorities. That was one of the things she’d read about in the Magical Handbook 101 that Madam Techer had loaned to her from her library. Honesty was the key as long as it didn’t endanger themselves, or others, of course.
He sighed deeply. “And just where were you and your sister?”
Okay, now she was backed up into a corner.
“Okay, Sergeant. I’ll be honest with you. I was...I was at Jonathan’s apartment.” She had no choice but to fess up. But she also had nothing to lose. “His Auntie Ericka can vouch for us. We were just there to see if we could find answers as to what might have happened to him. That’s all.”
The sergeant put down his cup of coffee and sighed deeply, wiping his brow.
“I don’t think his Auntie Ericka will be able to vouch for you, Ms. Summer.”
“Oh, and why is that?”
“She’s dead.�
�
Febe froze.
Chapter 17
“She’s dead? Ericka? Jonathan’s aunt is dead? But...that’s impossible. We saw her just the other night!”
“I’m sure you did. The concierge confirmed you and your sister were there and we saw the security footage.” He arched his brow.
Febe’s heart did a flip flop in her chest. “You saw us?”
He nodded slowly.
“Oh, no. W-what happened to her?”
“She was poisoned.”
Febe’s jaw dropped open. “Poisoned?” Her body went cold. “She was murdered?” Her eyes widened in shock.
Febe could feel her heart pounding a mile a minute, thrashing hard against her rib cage. This did not look good. This did not look good at all. Febe and Janvier were probably the last to see Ericka alive.
Oh, great. Now they were probably the lead suspects in both cases. It looked as if she’d gone there to silence Ericka.
“Did you have something to do with that?”
“But we had no idea that she was even there,” Janvier came back to the counter, wiping her hands on her apron. She’d clearly heard some of the conversation. Good thing the café was quiet right now.
“You had no idea she was there?” he asked, dubiously.
“No.”
“Do you mind telling me what you two ladies were doing there in the first place?”
Okay, now what was Febe going to say? That her ex-fiancé had given her explicit permission to go searching in his apartment for clues as to why he was murdered? Oh, right, one problem with that scenario. He was already dead! How would she explain that to the cops?
“Well, I...um...I used to go there. I thought I might have left something behind.”
“Left something behind?” he asked. “Like what? Evidence?”
“No! No, of course not. I already told you, I had nothing to do with that. I hadn’t seen Jonathan since we broke off our engagement.”
“So when was the last time you saw him?” He took out his notebook and began taking notes.
He’d already asked Febe that question the night after Jonathan was found. So why was he asking her that question again? Did he suspect her? Was he trying to see if she would change her story?