Life's a Witch

by A. M. King

  “I already told you, I saw him...” She hesitated. Jonathan appeared in the shop right next to the police sergeant.

  Oh, crap!

  That wasn’t good. Now she would be lying. She was seeing him now, but she couldn’t tell the police that now could she? He’d call the local psychiatric facility and have her hauled off to be locked away in some padded room, possibly wearing a strait jacket.

  “You were saying?” He arched his brow again, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at Febe. He then turned to his side and then glanced back to Febe again. “Is something wrong? Why are you staring at the empty seat beside me?”

  “Um.”

  “It’s okay, you can tell him the truth,” Jonathan grinned.

  “Very funny.”

  “Excuse me?” Sergeant Heart said.

  “Um. No not you, sir. I was talking to...”

  “To me,” Janvier jumped in. “She was talking to me.” She wiped down the counter top with a cloth as she rushed to Febe’s aide.

  “But she was talking to the seat beside me.”

  “No, she wasn’t,” Janvier quickly defended her sister. “We always kid around. I can be funny at times.”

  He narrowed his eyes suspiciously again. “Oh, really now? You think a murder investigation is funny, do you?”

  “No!” The sisters said in unison.

  “This is just too funny,” Jonathan laughed out loud.

  Febe resisted the urge to glance in his direction again.

  “You still haven’t answered my question, Ms. Summer.”

  “Um...right. Well, the truth is...”

  Jonathan arched his brow and folded his arms across his chest with a smirk. Just whose side was he on, anyway?

  Febe had forgotten what a prankster he was in life...

  Wait a minute. She was going to tell the officer the truth.

  “The last time I saw Jonathan alive was when we broke up weeks ago.”

  The smirk wiped clean off Jonathan’s face. Sheesh! If it weren’t for the fact that she had to find his real killer in order for them not to keep her under suspicion of his murder, she’d have cut out of this a long time ago.

  “Okay, nice catch,” Jonathan finally said.

  Febe smiled proudly then wiped the smile off her face when she saw Sergeant Heart eye her again. The last thing she wanted to do was to lie to the police. She wanted to be honest with them without revealing too much that they just wouldn’t understand. Like the fact that she was really a witch—a witch who was just coming of age, but a witch nonetheless.

  “Fine.” He scribbled down some notes. “So you knocked on the door and she let you in?”

  “Well, no not exactly,” Febe said truthfully.

  “Then how did you get into his apartment?”

  Okay, now this part was going to be tricky. Was she going to admit that her sister used some magic to open the door?

  “Well, my ex always left his key under the mat.” That was the truth. She was going to leave it at that and hope that he didn’t ask any more questions pertaining to the key under the mat, such as, was the key actually under the mat at the time?

  “He left his spare key under the mat?” The officer raised his brow.

  “I know, right?” Janvier interjected. “Like who does that these days?” She shrugged and continued to wipe down the counter.

  “Right.” He took off his cap and rubbed his forehead then replaced his cap again. “Okay, now so you let yourself in.”

  “That’s right. We let ourselves in.” With a little help from witchcraft but she wasn’t going to mention that part.

  “Okay and what happened after that?” he asked.

  “After that, we heard a noise coming from Jonathan’s bedroom and so we went in.”

  “You went in?”

  “That’s right.”

  “What happened next?”

  “Well, we obviously surprised Ericka and she was surprised by us, too.”

  “Did she ask you why you were there?”

  “Yes and we told her.”

  “And?”

  “And that’s it. We got to talking. She told me that she’d heard a lot about me but never got a chance to meet me. She lives...lived in Florida,” Febe said. “Jonathan once told me that he was taking care of her condo for her while she spent most of her time in the sun, like a lot of snow birds.”

  “I see.”

  Jonathan leaned back in the bar stool chair and sighed heavily. Good thing she was the only one who could see him and hear him.

  “Did you see anything suspicious?”

  “Not really. Other than the fact that she was going through his things, but I guess it was her apartment and he was her nephew, so she had the right to his things. She was probably his only relative.”

  “Did she tell you that she was fearful for her life?”

  Febe thought for a moment. “No. Not at all.” She shook her head.

  Just then the doorbell chimed. A few customers walked in chatting amongst themselves.

  A woman walked in with a black cat peeking out of her tote bag.

  Jonathan’s eyes widened.

  “What’s wrong?” Febe asked before she realized no one else could see Jonathan.

  “Who are you talking to?” Sergeant Heart asked Febe.

  “Oh, um...you.” Febe flushed.

  He scratched his head, looking puzzled. He then snapped his booklet shut shaking his head as if this case was going to be as complicated as Jonathan’s case. “Just make sure you don’t go anywhere, Ms. Summer. We’re still looking into a few things. And we’ll need to ask you some more questions.”

  “Oh, I’ll be right here, Sergeant. Trust me on that.”

  “Good. We’ll be in touch.” He got up and headed for the door.

  Jonathan vanished.

  Well so much for that.

  He’d told her before that he couldn’t control it so she’d just have to take his word for it. But there were a few questions she was burning inside to ask him. She’d just have to wait till later now.

  * * *

  “So what do you think that’s all about?” Janvier said to Febe moments after Sergeant Heart left the Summer Café.

  “I wish I knew, Sis.”

  “Do you think he suspects us?”

  “If he did, wouldn’t he take us in for questioning now?”

  “Not necessarily.”

  “Not necessarily? Great. So now they probably think we had something to do with both deaths.” Febe collected the plate and coffee cup and placed them on the tray to take back to the kitchen.

  “It would look that way, Sis.”

  Febe stopped at the swinging doors leading into the kitchen. “You know, this has me thinking.”

  “About what?”

  “The fact that both Jonathan and his aunt were murdered in a short space of time. Who could have wanted both of them dead?”

  “You think it was some sort of hit or something?”

  “I’m not saying that but it does seem like quite a coincidence that both aunt and nephew were murdered at his condo—well, I believe Jonathan was murdered at his condo or at least poisoned there and then brought to Blackshore Bay.”

  “You know I hadn’t thought of that. You’re right. They were both murdered there. Something’s up. That place is cursed!”

  Febe playfully rolled her eyes. “I don’t think it’s the condo that’s cursed, Sis.”

  “Hey, don’t knock it. You know there are haunted places, right?”

  “I’m aware.”

  “Well, I read this story about a haunted house where the previous tenants were murdered and it was a cover up. Ever since then, copycat murders were committed there. Anyone who moved in there would meet the same fate in a short space of time. They called it the short term rental place. No one stayed there alive for too long.”

  “What? Now do you really believe those stories?” Febe arched her brow, dubiously.

  “I sure do. Besides, it’s too much o
f a coincidence that they both were killed in the same place not too far apart in time.”

  “That does seem odd.” Febe thought for a moment. “I’m going to ask Detective Heart if they...”

  The door chime sounded and Febe was stunned at who walked in through the glass doors.

  The handsome detective, Trey. Her heart flip-flopped in her chest. Goodness, why did her body react that way whenever he was near her? She really needed to get over herself. Or get over her reaction to him.

  “Well speak of the devil,” Febe said with a grin.

  “Excuse me?” Detective Heart said.

  “Oh, um...nothing. I was just telling Janvier that I was going to ask you about the Strangman murders.”

  “Oh, that. I just spoke to my uncle. We’re working with the team up in Toronto. It’s not looking good.” He shook his head.

  “Do you think this could be a serial killer or something?”

  “Not sure. We’re comparing notes right now. It looks as if Jonathan was poisoned, then brought up to Blackshore Bay. Or he was poisoned with arsenic and found his way here before the poison set in.”

  “How was Ericka murdered? I know she was poisoned. That’s what Sergeant Heart said, but with what?”

  He sighed deeply. “Well, it’s going to be public soon in the papers. There were traces of potassium chloride.”

  “Potassium chloride?” Febe’s heart squeezed in her chest. “That’s awful.” She’d read up about Potassium chloride. It wasn’t pretty. The substance was clear like water and tasteless and odorless and could easily go undetected. It could mimic a heart attack.

  “How did they discover that? I thought we all had traces of it in our bodies?”

  “We do. The forensics team and coroner’s office were able to find traces around her lips.”

  Febe felt a lump climb in her throat. “That’s....awful. So we’re dealing with a cold-blooded and calculated murderer then?”

  “Exactly. That’s why I don’t want you getting involved trying to help find the killer. It’s way too dangerous. Leave that up to us.”

  “Now how did you know I was going to...?”

  He arched his brow and gave her a now-really look. Okay, so he had her figured out. She’d managed to do some digging in the last murder to help clear her auntie who was a suspect.

  “Okay, fine. I won’t get into any trouble. But I have a feeling your uncle suspects Janvier and I could have had something to do with it. We were at her condo the other night.”

  “Well, we need to ask everyone questions right now. It’s standard procedure.”

  “What’s this about potassium?” Janvier said coming back to the counter.

  “We were just discussing how deadly the drug is. That’s how Ericka was murdered. It can induce a heart attack and stay undetected, since we have traces in our blood,” Febe said.

  “Damn! That’s nasty.”

  “Exactly,” Febe agreed. “I studied about that drug in pharmacology in one of my electives. But who would have access to that?”

  “Could be anyone.” Detective Heart glanced at the menu on the counter.

  “Your usual?” Febe asked.

  “Sure. Why not? Haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

  “Trey, that’s not good,” Febe said, her hands on her hips. “You’re going to run yourself down if you keep that up. You’re not a machine, you’re a man.” And a handsome one at that.

  He rubbed his sexy stubble. “Thanks for your concern,” he said. “Maybe I should hire you to be my personal consultant.”

  She grinned. “I don’t think you need a personal consultant.” Though she wouldn’t mind being his personal girlfriend.

  “I’ll have the guys whip up a western omelet sandwich on rye with French fries and fruit to go. It’s on me.”

  “Oh, no. I can’t let you do that.”

  “Do what? Whip up a western omelet on rye?”

  “You know that’s not what I mean,” he grinned.

  “Seriously, I don’t mind. Besides, I appreciate the work you do in keeping this town safe.”

  “It’s my job. I love what I do.”

  She poured him a cup of the café’s coffee special and handed it to him.

  “Thanks.”

  “No problem.”

  “I just wish Mayor Francis appreciated our work,” he said. “The mayor still wants to cut funding and staffing at the station. He’s really doing a number on us.”

  “Oh, no.”

  Febe had met Mayor Francis before. He seemed a bit standoffish to her.

  She was glad that Jonathan wasn’t around to get up to his usual mischief with his jealousy streak. She still couldn’t get over what he did the other day.

  Why on earth was Jonathan all over Trey like that anyway?

  Trey was in the world of the living. And Jonathan was...well, in the world of the dead.

  There was no competition. And even if Jonathan was a gentleman instead of the two-timing cheat he was. She didn’t do dead guys! Period.

  Chapter 18

  In the grand study at the Victorian, the women convened by the fireplace. A table set out in front of them with a spell book and some candles.

  “So it looks as if you were followed,” Aunt Trixie said, later.

  “Followed? By whom?” Janvier said.

  “The only person who saw us go up there was that sneaky concierge guy. I bet he might have had something to do with it,” Febe said.

  “But the cameras only showed us up there,” Janvier added.

  “That’s true,” Febe said, feeling defeated. “It just doesn’t make any sense.”

  Just then a cold chill slid around Febe and Jonathan appeared. “Oh there you are,” Febe said.

  “Nice to see you too, darling.”

  “It’s not funny, Jonathan. Your aunt was found murdered!”

  “I know. That’s terrible. Wonder if it’s the same killer who did me in.”

  “Probably. You both had been poisoned. She was poisoned with potassium chloride and you with a trace of arsenic in your blood.”

  “Arsenic? I must have slipped out when they mentioned that,” he said.

  “Don’t you have access to this information anyway?” Aunt Trixie asked, sarcastically.

  “No. I don’t. I’m new to this afterlife gig. I keep telling you, I just pop in and out of it. I’m here one moment and gone the next.”

  “Yeah, yeah, just like life. Here one moment, gone the next. That’s why we need to make every second count and have as much fun as we can while we’re here, taking care of ourselves. Tending to our inner beauty,” Aunt Vanity said, while smoothing her eyebrows in her little compact mirror.

  Febe swore her Aunt Vanity was hexed into always staring at herself in the mirror. She was never without one and was obsessed with her looks to no end. Whoever put that spell on her really did a number on her, Febe thought.

  “So she was poisoned,” Jonathan said as if he didn’t believe it.

  “She was poisoned, Jonathan. Poisoned.”

  “Poisoned with potassium chloride?” he echoed, shocked, running his fingers through his mousy hair. Funny, he always did that when he was alive, too. It was strange how he kept his same habits in the afterlife. She guessed it was true that death wasn’t the end of the life, but some sort of extension of it into some other dimension. A transformation.

  “But how?” he asked, leaning forward in his chair.

  “The cops said someone must have slipped it into her drink. They found the cup in the apartment. Do you have any idea who might have wanted to see your aunt dead?”

  He shrugged. “It could be the same people who came after me. I don’t know...wait a minute,” he said, pondering.

  “What is it?”

  “She had some sort of argument recently. Before I...left.”

  “What kind of argument? With whom?”

  He shrugged again. “I don’t know. She was on the phone and talking to a lawyer guy.”

  “Did s
he tell you his name?”

  “Raoule, I think.”

  “Raoule?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, that’s it. It’s coming back to me now. It was her lawyer. Raoule.”

  “Hmm. That’s strange,” Febe said.

  “Can’t trust all lawyers these days. I’ll never forget the divorce lawyer who handled my ex’s case. His wife got everything and left him without a cent,” Aunt Vanity chimed in before working on putting eyeliner on her upper eyelids now.

  “Not all lawyers are the same, Auntie,” Febe added before turning her attention back to Jonathan. “What type of lawyer is he?” Febe asked.

  “Really shady,” Jonathan added.

  Febe shook her head. “I meant what type of law does he practice?”

  “Oh, that,” he said, leaning back in his chair, propping his right foot over his left knee. “He’s some real estate guy. She went in with him on a few land deals in Florida and I think they both invested in some condos together.”

  “Some condos?”

  “Yeah, my aunt owns...owned a few units in the building and in another building down by the lake. You know, investing in condo high-rises in Toronto is big business. She was hoping to sell a few later after the market increased.”

  “I thought she only had the one condo. The one you were living in and took care of for her.”

  “Nah. That was just one of her investments. She was a shrewd businesswoman. She always told me she never wanted to work another day in her life and investing in condos was a smart move. She would never have to fix roofs or maintain anything. It all came with the condo fees. Great investment. I was hoping to get in on it with her, too. She promised me she was going to show me the ropes.” A sad expression played on his face. “That was until...well, never mind.”

  “So sorry to hear that, Jonathan.” Febe tried to imagine how hard it must have been working part time undercover while also working in a stressful industry like advertising. Many people she’d worked with dreamed of the day they could leave the rat race and retire on the lake—not in the lake, of course, but on the lake. A nice beach house or luxury high-rise overlooking a body of water. That was the life, not getting up early every day and coming home late at night after working overtime that wasn’t even compensated. It had been sucking the life out of her and the folks she’d worked with. Competition was fierce, the harder you worked and the longer hours you put in, the more you were rewarded with keeping your job until you burned out or slowed down and they replaced you with someone else.