Life's a Witch

by A. M. King

  Janvier got down on the floor with her.

  “Okay, Sis. You mind telling me what you’re doing down here and why you’re looking at these containers?”

  “There’s nothing suspicious about these containers,” she said. “Not on their own, anyway.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Febe got up and went back to the kitchen cupboard and searched for the bottle of caramel syrup. “This stuff is actually good at concealing certain tastes.”

  “What are you saying?”

  Febe took the container and placed it beside the bottle of bleach and other cleaning solutions. “I’m saying that it’s very possible Jonathan was poisoned using these products. A combination of them. I remember reading in my chemistry class how many household products could be used as dangerous poisons if not careful.”

  “Miss Brainiac, we all know that. Just look at the skull on the warning label.”

  “I’m not talking about that, silly. They can be poisonous if ingested, yes. But a combination of them can be lethal in another way. Arsenic could have a delayed reaction. It’s more like a slow poisoning that could be drawn out over days.”

  “Really? But who would do this? Who would take the time to put all of this together?”

  “The question is why, Sis. What possible motive could someone have to want Jonathan out of the way?”

  “And Ericka.”

  “True. Though I believe whoever knocked off Jonathan wanted to make sure his closest relatives wouldn’t find out. Maybe she was poking around too much.”

  “Do you think it has something to do with whatever documents she slid into her purse the night we saw her here?”

  “Could very well be.”

  “We know that the concierge is a spy at the same agency where Jonathan worked.”

  “Do you think Conrad had something on Jonathan?”

  “Not sure. But what if...” Febe paused in thought, tapping her pen to her chin. “What if Jonathan had something on the concierge? What if there’s something we need to know about him?”

  Chapter 21

  When Febe got back home, she got on her phone and immediately tried to reach out to Detective Trey. The phone kept ringing.

  “You’re not seriously going to ask your boyfriend cop to investigate the concierge, are you?” Aunt Trixie said with a grin as she stirred creamy potato leek soup in the pot.

  Febe playfully rolled her eyes. “Aunt Trixie, Trey and I are not dating.”

  “Yet.” She arched her brow.

  Just then the sound of a man clearing his throat sounded beside Febe. It was none other than Jonathan.

  “I can hear you, you know,” Jonathan said to Aunt Trixie.

  “So what?” Aunt Trixie said, continuing to stir her pot.

  “You could have a little more discretion,” Jonathan said, “I mean Febe and I...”

  “...are no longer an item,” Aunt Trixie shot to Febe’s defense. “And thank heavens for that! And talk about discretion. That never occurred to you while you were dating two women, did it?”

  “Aunt Trixie, I can speak for myself,” Febe said softly, disappointment and embarrassment in her voice.

  Febe had to focus her energies on getting to the bottom of who killed Jonathan and his so-called auntie.

  “Jonathan, what do you know about Conrad?”

  “Not much. He’s new.”

  “I think he might have been working part time for your paranormal agency.”

  “Really? What makes you think that?”

  “We saw his ID. I’m not sure if it was current or not. As a matter of fact, I’ll find out right now.” Febe took out her cell phone and Googled the agency phone number, then dialed from the screen.

  “Good afternoon,” the receptionist said.

  “Good afternoon, I’d like to speak to Conrad Delucio please,” she said confidently as to not arouse suspicion. She wanted them to believe she and Conrad were closely related and she was just giving him a routine call.

  “Conrad Delucio?” the woman said on the other end of the phone line.

  Febe swallowed hard. Uh-oh.

  “Yes, that’s right. Is he available?” Febe continued.

  “He’s dead, Ma’am. Conrad passed away last year.”

  Chapter 22

  Febe pulled up to her lesson the next day, feeling lost. Some witch she was. She couldn’t figure this case out and she was sure they were going to charge her soon.

  She hoped Madam Techer wouldn’t sense her energies surrounding her disappointment with her ex-fiancé and now this impossible case. Why did she have such bad luck with men?

  Except Trey. He’s sweet, a voice inside her head told her.

  So Conrad, the part time investigator, was really dead, huh?

  So who the hell was that guy at the concierge desk? An imposter? Or were there two Conrads? And the concierge guy happened to have the other Conrad’s ID. Nah, that didn’t make sense. Did it?

  She had to think about her next move now. But she was going to have to be careful. Very careful.

  Moments later, Madam Techer waved her hands in the air slowly as she whipped up a new incantation. “Magical powers move in me, help me to be the best teacher for Febe,” she intoned.

  Febe watched with amusement. “I thought we weren’t speaking in plain English,” Febe said.

  “Nonsense. We can speak in plain English or any common language for that matter.”

  Febe shrugged. “Okay. I guess I have to get used to that.” She hesitated for a moment. “What’s with the incantation? I think you are a great teacher.”

  “But not for what you need, my dear.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “I mean, I don’t think we should continue these lessons.”

  Febe’s heart sank. “You mean you don’t think I’m good enough for a life of magic? But...but it’s my heritage,” she pleaded. Was there anything she was good at? Except choosing the worst possible soul mates?

  “My dear, there are so many complications in your life right now. It’s too much.”

  “Okay, that doesn’t sound good. My teacher who happens to be the 200 year old ghost of a witch is telling me I’m too much?”

  “It’s not quite like that, my dear.”

  “It isn’t?”

  “No, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

  “Well, thank heavens for that! I can only imagine what I’d feel right now if you were trying to hurt my feelings.”

  The teacher winced. “My dear, people come into our lives for a reason. Some are meant to stay and others are not.”

  “Are you seriously saying you weren’t meant to stay? Because I don’t buy it. I need you. I need you to guide me in this crazy new world I’ve inherited.”

  Madam Techer sighed deeply. “All right. I will help you. But you need to promise me that you’ll focus, Febe.”

  “Right. I’ll try to stay focused.”

  Madam Techer closed her eyes and began to whisper something inaudible. Then some strange sounds came from her lips. She then paused.

  “Think, darling. Use your powers,” she said to Febe.

  “A relaxed mind is a resourceful mind. When people get stressed, they can’t think clearly. Always be calm. In the emergency room where a lot of us worked, we were told that if a patient crashed we were to walk slowly to the crash cart, never run, because we could trip and cause harm and chaos.”

  “That makes sense.”

  Febe wanted to use her magic to help people. She couldn’t even help the dead.

  Then something came to her.

  “People store information in many ways,” Febe said.

  “You’re right. They do. Is something wrong, dear?”

  “No, everything’s right, now. I think I’ve found the answer I was looking for. You’re right. A relaxed mind is a resourceful mind.”

  Febe couldn’t wait to get back to her laptop. The answer was there all along.

  “Oh, and
one more thing. Could you please show me how to use the forget spell?”

  * * *

  Later, when Febe returned to the Victorian, she called out for Jonathan. Her energies were stronger, more confident. He appeared suddenly, looking dazed.

  “You rang?” he said.

  “Yes. I know what happened. The pieces have all come together in my mind—and after checking out a few things online. Now, I’m going to need a favor from you.”

  “What kind of favor?”

  “You’re not going to like it, but you’ve been a naughty boy, and you’re going to have to come clean.”

  She was going to confront the killer at Jonathan’s apartment.

  Chapter 23

  At Jonathan’s apartment Febe scrolled through sheets and sheets of documents on his computer. He’d given her his password so she could search for clues. There were tons of spreadsheets and lists of debts owed. He owed $45,000 on his line of credit. He was overdrawn on all his credit cards and bank accounts.

  The condo board had written to him and Ericka informing them that they were in arrears for maintenance fees. He also owed money to a bookie. He had gambling debts from the casino for over $20,000. The lists went on.

  On another page, there was another figure for one million dollars. He’d typed that on top of the page and made the deductions for everything he owed below it, subtracting from the sum. Then he made another column for what he would be left with after he’d paid off his bills and debts.

  He would be left with more than a half a million dollars.

  Febe quickly made the connection. She glanced at the notepad app on desktop computer and scrolled down. It all made perfect sense now.

  Just then, she heard a shuffling sound behind her and quickly spun around, but it was too late. She was thrown backwards from the desk and into the wall.

  What the...

  It was Jonathan.

  He looked different. He was wearing some sort of long, grey cloak and looked as if he’d come from a different century.

  “What’s going on?”

  He said nothing for a moment. But he had obviously discovered how to use his ghostly energies now.

  Yeah, now he figures how to use it—and he’s using it on me.

  “Why are you doing this?” Febe shouted.

  “I’m sorry, Febe. My memory’s coming back now. I know what happened and so do you.”

  “And?” Febe’s heart pounded hard and fierce inside her knocking on her ribcage. But she was not about to let him smell her fear. She was a witch, damn it! He should be fearful of what she could do to him. Not the other way around, right?

  If only she had her witching license. She still didn’t know how to effectively use her energetic forces at will. It usually just sort of happened. Like that time when she’d caught him in bed with her boss and she’d inadvertently slammed the door in his face. It seemed like only yesterday.

  She’d sworn that she would never again come to his apartment or have anything more to do with him.

  Oh, when would she learn to keep her word and trust her inner witch instincts?

  Jonathan eyed her with contempt as he inched closer to her. What was he going to do to her? How fast could he travel to her?

  She could feel his dark energy trying to invade her space.

  She remembered what Madam Techer taught her.

  Keep your guard up. Protect your energy. Protect your space, Febe.

  “So you just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” she said in a loud voice, trying to buy time while she thought of an escape plan.

  “What do you mean?” he said, inching slowly towards her. For some reason he seemed to have slowed down a bit. Or was that her imagination?

  “Greed. It was always about greed, wasn’t it, Jonathan? You used women to get what you want. You used me because you thought I could help you get a huge promotion, but instead you stepped over me to our boss. Then you used Ericka too because she was a rich older woman,” she said in a loud voice.

  “I wouldn’t say that.” He seemed offended.

  “It made sense when the sergeant told me that you’d left me as a beneficiary to your estate.”

  “And?”

  “Well, that only meant that you would have taken out a policy on me, too. And left yourself as a beneficiary. Most insurance doesn’t allow you to simply take out a policy on anyone these days without their consent. Then again I remember when you forged my signature a few times.”

  He smirked. “Yes, I admit that was creative wasn’t it?”

  “It was devious. Just like everything else you did in life. You were hoping to bump me off, too, weren’t you?”

  “Too? Now you have me lost.”

  “Oh, come now. You had a policy on your fake aunt and you were hoping to kill her, but she beat you to it.”

  “I had no choice.”

  “So you left poison for her to drink—and made sure to poison her food with the caramel. It was a delayed effect, because you were expecting her to come back into town at a later date, but then she surprised you, didn’t she?”

  “Yeah, she sure did. It all came back to me. When I ended up in this dimension, I didn’t know what hit me at first. I just happened to be floating above it all. It was surreal. I couldn’t understand what had happened. I guess my memory sort of slipped away from me when I came to this other reality. I felt lost. The only thing I knew was about you. The picture of you and me at the beach was staring up at me so I came looking for you, hoping you could help me figure out what happened.” He stepped back and sat down on his couch, leaned back and propped his right ankle over his left knee. A grin of amusement curved his lips. “I’m curious. How did you figure it all out, Febe?”

  Oh, good. This should buy her a few minutes before her plan worked. Well, at least she hoped it would work. If it backfired, she wasn’t sure what was going to happen to her.

  “It wasn’t that hard, Jonathan. You weren’t very discreet, you know?”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Oh, come now. You always wrote things down. That was your thing.”

  “Oh, right,” he said, scratching his head. “My short term memory issues.”

  She playfully rolled her eyes. “Yeah, that. Well, I figured you must have left some clues in your apartment.”

  “How did you know I had issues with short term memory?”

  “When we worked together. When you had your so-called job at the ad agency. Every time I would explain what I was doing in an ad campaign, you would scribble down notes to use later. Or you’d take out your cell phone or laptop and type information into your digital notepad. I got so used to seeing that yellow screen. It all came back to me. You must have documented it somewhere. You document everything. That’s why I was dreaming in yellow the other night. The clues were there. Your yellow notepad on your smartphone and your computer. It was as if it was calling to me. And all the pieces added up that you were planning to get rid of Ericka but she was thinking of getting rid of you too. So you and Ericka both poisoned each other.”

  “So what?”

  “So what? Well, now I guess you can move forward to the other zone now that you know what happened to you, Jonathan. Good bye.”

  He vanished through the wall and left a chill behind.

  Febe heard a shuffling sound outside the apartment.

  “I’m coming,” Febe said, walking over to the door.

  Febe had an uneasy feeling about who could be on the other side of the door.

  It was good of Jonathan to play along with their little scene a moment ago—even though he really did kill Ericka and Ericka had poisoned him—only he didn’t die right away—someone else killed him.

  She hoped her plan to expose Jonathan’s real killer worked or she would soon end up dead, too.

  Chapter 24

  “Hello Conrad,” Febe said, opening the door.

  “Hi Febe. I was just...checking to see if everything was all right up here. I heard some noise.
”

  “You mean all the way from the lobby? My, you do have impeccable hearing, Conrad. For a shapeshifter.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Febe uttered an incantation to reveal his true identity hoping it would work fast. Before she knew it, he morphed before her very eyes into the person behind the façade.

  He seemed dazed at first, staring at her in disbelief. His tux no longer fitted him as his real shape and form came out.

  “What....you must be a witch!”

  “That’s right Mayor Francis. And you must be a shapeshifter. Jonathan was on to you, wasn’t he? That’s why you’d planned to bump him off. You knew all about him and what he’d planned to do to his lover who was pretending to be his auntie. You assumed the identity of a deceased covert agent and took a job as his concierge so you could plan the perfect murder, or murders. No one would suspect you. You had reason to be there as a concierge. You just needed the right time.”

  “How did you know?”

  “I had to piece all the evidence together, but one thing bugged me was how on earth would the killer know so much about Jonathan? Then, of course, as mayor of Blackshore Bay, you were fully aware of the rash of hit and run pedestrian fatalities due to distracted walking. You staged it to look as if Jonathan had been killed in the Bay area, after you lured him there that night while posing as a reporter, saying that you had a lead on the mayor—. That’s why he left that night after he’d ordered food. I wondered, who orders pizza and then leaves town without finishing it. It must have been something urgent. That’s why he was here. He’d been slowly poisoned with arsenic by Ericka, but you didn’t know that at the time. You’re the one who lured him to Blackshore Bay, then killed him by running him over.”

  Febe could have left the mayor as the concierge, but it would have been harder to explain a missing mayor than a missing part time concierge desk guy. She could just say that Conrad quit and left town. She knew the mayor wouldn’t reveal her magical abilities because she used a forget spell on him.

  “I don’t believe this,” he said.