To Speak of Things Unseen (Hemstreet Witches Book 2)

by Rain Trueax

  “This one? It’s not like I’ve had that many men here,” Elke protested.

  Maya giggled. “The muscular sort are handy.”

  “Did you need help with something?” Mitch asked.

  “The wind broke off the top of my pepper tree. I guess I should have trimmed it back anyway. I am not good with a saw though.”

  Mitch smiled. “Be right down.”

  While he was gone, Elke called Torre. “Will you be there today?” she asked her sleepy sounding sister.

  “I hadn’t planned on it.”

  “Mitch Ford will be there.”

  “I could change my mind.”

  Elke laughed. “Would you do me a favor and see if you can find hospital or ER admittance records for the 23rd or 24th and a male seeking treatment for possibly a broken arm?”

  “I’ll see what I can do. You know hospitals aren’t so open about patient records.”

  “I know. That’s why I wanted a hacker.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.” She heard the smile in Torre’s voice. “Is he old and wizened or cute?”

  “In a few hours, you can decide that for yourself.”

  An hour later, after Mitch had done more than a few favors for Maya and earned her effusive gratitude, he was back upstairs. “I will need a shower before I meet your family,” he said.

  She thought he looked very enticing, sweat and all, but she nodded. They didn’t have time for her to join him, but that idea was inviting also. He was proving to be very addictive.

  ><><><

  When Mitch parked the SUV where Elke directed, he saw an assortment of vehicles already in front of the large house. “I grew up here,” she said. “Never lived anywhere else until I got my apartment, but I suppose you knew that,” she said as they walked up the sidewalk, past the gate, to the house.

  “I did.” Many things had changed for him in meeting the man who would become his mentor in warfare. He wondered what his life would have been like had that never happened. Useless pondering, of course.

  “Wow, he’s a big one,” a white-haired lady said as she popped off a living room sofa.

  “Be nice,” Elke said. “Ladies and others, this is Mitchell Ford.”

  Maria rose and gave him a hug. “This one and I met before but just casually. I doubt you remember me.”

  “Oh I remember the beautiful lady at the meeting to discuss options for the homeless,” he said with a smile as he got all the other names. “These ladies are way too young to be your grandmothers,” he said as Elsa and Jess rose and gave him welcoming hugs.

  “He’s a keeper,” Elsa said. She gave her granddaughter a look. “Don’t let him get away.”

  “I am doing my best,” Elke said with a laugh.

  “I’m Nick,” a tall, black-haired man said coming in from the kitchen with a cup of coffee in his left hand and taking Mitch’s hand with his right. “Denali’s other half.” A gorgeous blonde, carrying a tray of pastries, was behind him and also shook Mitch’s hand.

  “Tea and coffee in the kitchen,” Maria said. “We will then convene our meeting.”

  “I’m fine,” he said sitting in a large overstuffed chair. Elke sat on its arm.

  “To start,” Torre said, “I have yet to find anything on a broken arm being set. I haven’t given up though.”

  “Explain all this to us,” Maria asked Elke, who then described the night someone had tried to break into her home and how Mitch had dealt with it.

  Jess nodded approvingly. “As the wretch deserved.”

  “How much do you remember of what the man looked like,” Maria asked.

  “It was dark, no moon, no streetlights. It all happened fast. He was shorter than me.”

  Devi giggled. “But then almost everybody is, aren’t they?” Then she flushed. “I didn’t mean to insult you.”

  “You didn’t. I am trying to remember. His features were nothing that stood out.”

  “Take us through the event,” Denali suggested. “Maybe as you remember it, we will get something.”

  “You know that person might not be the killer,” Jess said adding a note of practicality.

  “It was someone though who had bad intentions,” Elsa argued.

  “Of course,” Jess snapped back.

  “All right,” Mitch said hoping to smooth the waters. “I came up to the house intending to… talk to Elke. I saw the guy, realized he had a knife, and he went straight to the lower gate with it ready to jimmy the lock. When I broke his arm, he dropped the knife. After he ran off, I kicked it into the oleander before I opened the lock and went upstairs. That means it’s probably still there with his fingerprints. I don’t think he was wearing gloves.”

  Torre looked the most interested he’d yet seen. “I will see if it’s still there. I have gloves to handle it. We can get the fingerprints or should we tell the police and let them get it?”

  “Who would be in trouble then?” Mitch asked. “I did break his arm.”

  “A man intending to break into Elke’s apartment,” Maria said. “Maybe a man who is into assaulting and murdering women.”

  “If it wasn’t random, then it had to be connected to the theater or church,” Elke said. “Chuck had already gotten aggressive with me and come around when he wasn’t welcome. From the way she had reacted that night, I would say Debbie and he had some connection where she felt betrayed.” She described that event at Stage Left.

  Torre reached into her purse and clicked on her iPad. “What’s his name?”

  “Chuck or maybe Charles Carter. He’s been in several local productions. Action hero type… supposedly.”

  After some swiping, Torre turned the screen so Mitch could see it. “Look familiar?”

  “It was dark but... what height is he?”

  Torre swiped again. “Six foot… which means probably 5’10” as they always lie.” She giggled.

  “It could be him. Wish I’d broken his neck now,” Mitch said with a low growl.

  Nick laughed. “Disposing of bodies isn’t easy-- in case you didn’t know.”

  Mitch shook his head. What kind of family was he entering into? Well, given his own background, it was probably the perfect one—at least for him. Feeling Elke’s warmth next to his side, he knew it was more than perfect.

  “I’ll see if I can find whether that person showed up at an ER,” Torre said.

  “Wouldn’t he have to?” Devi asked.

  “Was it a compound break?” Torre asked as she kept punching in keys.

  “It could have been. I slammed him hard,” Mitch said. “He was holding it as he ran off.”

  “If it was,” Denali said, “if he didn’t go to the doctor, he had to have someone help him. Elke, any idea who his friends are?” She was cuddled against Nick in what seemed a natural and loving way. If once, Mitch had been cynical about relationships, he now wanted to see them as possible. The truth was it was too late for him to walk away from Elke. He had to go forward with this—for whatever was possible.

  “I don’t know him, other than he’s uncouth and was drunk the first and probably at least drinking the second time I saw him.”

  “So might whatever he had going with Debbie have given him enough reason to kill her?”

  Elke shook her head. “I don’t know, of course. The thing is, to me, he seemed like someone out of control, but whether he’d want to kill someone… My instincts would say he was too shallow for that.”

  “No record of his going to the clinic or any emergency rooms,” Torre said with a sigh of frustration. “So who would set his arm?”

  “Are we talking about going to the police this time?” Jess asked with some disapproval in her voice.

  “You want us to, Mom?” Maria asked.

  “Not saying that, just wondered.” Jess grinned. “Not to change the subject, but, of course, I am. Is anyone remembering that Lammas is almost here? Are we ever going to celebrate any of our festivals as a family?” This time her disapproval was clear.

 
“What does Lammas mean?” Nick asked. He looked over at Mitch. “I am not into this witchy stuff, in case you didn’t know.”

  “You can learn,” Elsa said with a flirtatious smile. She was something else. “This Sabbat is about the cycle of birth, life, death and rebirth, and in honor of Lugh, who is considered a warrior god of sorts but more than that. He was so much more than that. Even a bard.” She turned that grin onto Mitch.

  “As a skilled warrior, he had a magick spear. Some say when a lightning storm comes through, such as we had yesterday, it’s Lugh fighting. Lugh is the god of the storms. And in that, I guess you both suit the mythology for Lughnasadh because you are both men of many skills—the warrior and the artist.”

  “And about that sacrificing part,” Mitch quipped with a crooked smile. “What is there always about witches that leads to that somewhere?”

  “This is more about gathering in and giving thanks for a good harvest,” Jess said. “I am feeling particularly grateful this year for what my granddaughters have gathered in. Should we not celebrate that?”

  “That’s not totally true,” Maria argued.

  “What part?” Jess retorted.

  “Well, Lugh is son of the Sun. The Sun God transfers his power into the grain, and is sacrificed when the grain is harvested. He will be reborn in the spring, of course, a resurrecting god, who dies for his people so they may live.”

  “Can we skip over the mythologies,” Elke said, “and don’t scare off this man by trying to say we are harvesting him.” She laughed but didn’t sound amused to Mitch.

  “The question comes back to the police. Do we involve them this time?” Jess asked.

  “There is something more,” Elke said. “When I went out to the site they found the body, I tried to get a memory vision.” She described it and ended with, “It was not Chuck Carter.”

  Mitch could see Maria mulling that over before she spoke. “Maybe two then. Could we be looking for two men, not one? And this idea of involving the police is difficult. Injuring a man, who was trying to break into Elke’s apartment might not only cause him grief but give Elke publicity she does not need.” She looked at Elke. “You had a strong feeling for the man was that night. I know it’s not evidence in a court of law, but what was your instinct?”

  “Pastor Jefferies. But when I talked to him, I asked if Chuck was in his church, and he acted as though he’d never heard of him.”

  “Was he lying?”

  “I thought so. Debbie had worked for him,” Elke said, “and he was upset with her wanting to be in plays and how she dressed. He found fault with my dress that day also.”

  “A pervert then,” Elsa said. “They always talk the loudest about that sort of thing as a way to hide their own abuses.”

  “You go get the knife,” Maria told Torre. “Make sure you protect it. I think we need to bring it here and see what we can get from it-- beyond the fingerprints.” She looked then at Mitch. “Unless you disagree.”

  He smiled understanding that objects often stored memories. It wasn’t his expertise to tap into that, but maybe witches could. “No problem to me however you go at it.” He told Torre where it would be, if it had not already been found.

  Celia came to the door. “When you folks are ready for lunch, it’s ready for you.”

  Mitch found the abrupt change of mood to be a little surprising, but it worked for him, as they turned to small talk and eating while they waited for the knife. Nick sat beside him at the long table. “I read your book,” Nick said.

  “I have your painting—the one of a woman sitting on a boulder,” Mitch responded.

  “Ah yes, Contemplation. She looks a lot like Elke doesn’t she?”

  “In an impressionistic sort of way. How did you like the book?”

  “To be honest, Denali wanted me to read it. I am not much into the mystical side of life—despite being married into this family and seeing things I hadn’t expected. Your book though is good, lots of action, as though you knew of what you wrote.”

  “All fiction, of course,” Mitch said.

  “Of course.” Nick chuckled. “Did you know Adolfo… or are you him?”

  “Now, would you tell me who posed for your painting that I own?”

  “All fictional, of course.” They both laughed.

  Mitch found the conversation that swirled around him to be amusing in a strange sort of way. His had been a world mostly of men. Around this table was a world of women, very different women from any he had known. It made him think about writing another book but with a female hero. Then he knew he shouldn’t do that. One mistake was enough.

  Torre returned with a plastic wrapped package and sat at the table to eat. “So you created Vislogus wine,” she said with a smile.

  “Jacques Durand more accurately, but I own the vineyard and winery. I’m his lackey is more accurate to how it works.”

  “Smart,” Elsa said. “You recognize genius and protect it.”

  “I try.”

  “Does family get a discount?” Torre asked.

  Elke swatted her. “You are a brat.”

  “Don’t give her one,” Denali said. “I tried to get a discount on the last dresses I needed, and they flat out turned me down. Family gets no discounts.” She laughed.

  When they returned to the living room, Torre, using plastic gloves, unwrapped the package and laid the knife on the table. Unsurprising to Mitch, since he was not into distant imaging, he got nothing from it. He saw the women concentrate, each in their own way with some closing their eyes and others staring at the blade. It wasn’t particularly notable nor was the blade longer than eight inches. It wasn’t intended as a weapon but as a tool so far as he could tell. He tried to use it to see the man again, but he got nothing. He did feel the energy in the room heighten.

  Denali looked up and met his gaze. She said nothing as she sat back. Soon the women had all settled back. Maria stood. “We should go in a circle and share what we got. Starting with Denali because she is actually best at this.”

  “All right,” Denali said, “but it’s a bit chaotic. I did see the man coming to the gate, and Mitch do what he said, with a warning and brief struggle before the man ran away… I tried to go backward from that but couldn’t get anything. What I did get was seeing where he went when he left. Faith in Action. A man came out of the church when he rang a bell. The man yelled at him but then let him into the church. I couldn’t follow, but saw again when the man left with his arm in a sling.”

  “The pastor?” Elke asked.

  “What does he look like?” Denali asked.

  Torre pulled up a church image on her iPad. The pastor stood in front of his church.

  “Yes, that’s the man. I couldn’t catch the words they exchanged, but the pastor was clearly furious and yet he must have helped him when inside.”

  “We need to do deeper research on Martin Jefferies and his history. It may have been the wrong direction with Charles Carter since that might be an assumed name with so little out there on him. Can I use your computer, Mom?” Torre asked. She headed for a room Mitch assumed must be a den. He felt a little shaken by what Denali had claimed. Much as he’d learned about the spirit world, he’d never done anything like that or even wanted to. He wondered how accurate it was.

  “It has been before,” Elke said putting her arm around his neck as she clearly read his body language if not his thoughts. “If she’s right, then there is a connection with Chuck Carter and not only Debbie but the pastor. I could believe it given how deceptive I felt he was with me. Strange given his brother David is such a nice guy.”

  “And Bill or at least he’s always been fair to me.”

  “What about the rest of you,” Maria said. “What did the energy from the knife tell you?”

  “I couldn’t see anything,” Elke said, “but I was probably too close to it.”

  “I felt that the one with the knife had come on an impulse,” Jess said. “I could ask my guides.”

  Mitc
h thought of Nantan’s unwillingness to help him and wondered how much good that would do.

  Elsa cleared her throat. “I believe the man with the knife had had a recent tragedy. He was confused and trying to get himself together. He blamed himself at the same time he justified it was an accident.”

  “Accident?” Maria asked.

  “I didn’t get names.”

  “Did anyone find out what killed the girl?” Mitch asked, beginning to put together a story.

  “I didn’t ask Jace, but maybe I should,” Maria said. “I’ll be right back.” She went into the other room to make a call.

  “Anyone want a glass of wine?” Elke asked, looking around the room and then opening a bottle and giving those who had said yes a glass. Mitch was in no mood for alcohol. He needed a clear head.

  When Maria returned, she said, “Jace said it was a head injury. Someone had hit her several times and then crushed her skull.”

  “So it could have been a beating and an accidental death?” Mitch asked.

  “He didn’t say that, but clearly it could have been if she was thrown down.”

  “That so strikes me as what Chuck Carter could have done,” Elke said. “He just doesn’t seem he has enough gumption for a murder. He is pathetic but not diabolical. Too stupid for that. But he wasn’t the man I saw in the draw. Of course, maybe I was wrong.”

  “I don’t think so,” Elsa said. “The more I think on this, the more I see it as an accident but that had to be covered up. The question is why would that person help him?”

  “If Carter was beating her and she fell, legally it would still be a degree of murder, whatever his intent,” Mitch said.

  “He’s right,” Nick agreed. “And it doesn’t sound like he’d want to accept responsibility. I wonder where the death happened.”

  “I think an apartment,” Devi spoke up for the first time. “I felt like he wanted to escape there after it happened.”

  “The thing is why would Jefferies help him if he’s the one who took the body to the wash?”

  Torre came out of the den. “The story is complicated. It turns out Jefferies had left Tucson and lived some years in Nebraska, had a family where Charles Carter was his stepson. They showed up here about six months apart. Chuck Carter was making virtually no money, had no job, yet he had a nice apartment. Most likely he was blackmailing Martin that he’d reveal that he had a family elsewhere. So far, I’ve seen no record of divorce. None of this can be proven as a motive for helping Carter, of course, but it would explain a lot.”