Misadventures of a Tongue-Tied Witch: Boxed Set Humorous Witch Series

by Livia J. Washburn

  “What about him?”

  “He breaks into your apartment in Corpus Christi this morning, tries to rob you, and then follows us to Vegas? That doesn’t make sense, Aren. Nobody would hold that much of a grudge just because you stopped him from stealing whatever he came to steal.”

  A vague theory had been forming in the back of my mind while we checked in and came upstairs. I said, “What if he didn’t come to rob me?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He b-broke into my apartment and took out a gun. What if he came there to k-kill me, Donovan?”

  A horrified expression slowly came over his face as he looked at me. When he finally spoke, he said, “You’re right. We don’t really know what he was there to do, because you stopped him. One thing’s for sure…he was trying to kill us out there in the parking lot a little while ago.”

  I nodded. “That’s what it l-looked like to me, too.”

  “If it was the same guy – and I believe you when you say it was – then it makes sense that’s what he was after this morning, too.” He ran a hand through his dark hair in agitation. “Damn it, Aren, he could have killed you!”

  “And you, too.”

  “I don’t care about that!”

  But I did, I realized. I didn’t want anything to happen to Donovan. I might still be mad at him, but I wanted him to be all right.

  “You’re sure you never saw the guy before this morning?” he went on.

  “I can’t be absolutely certain. I could have p-passed him on the street and never paid any attention to him. But I know I never had any sort of dealings with him.”

  “You never, I don’t know, delivered a singing telegram to him or anything like that?”

  I shook my head. “No. I haven’t b-been working for Sherry for that long. I’d remember.”

  “Yeah, I guess you probably would.” He looked like he wanted to pace, but there wasn’t really enough open floor in the room for that. “That leaves us with two options. One, he’s a random psycho who’s set his sights on you for some reason that makes sense only to him, and whatever compulsion he feels is strong enough to make him follow us here.”

  “What’s the other option?” I asked. I had a pretty good idea of the answer, but I wanted to see if Donovan’s thoughts were running along the same line as mine.

  They were. He looked at me with his face grim and said, “The other option is that somebody paid him to kill you.”

  o0o

  I’d never had a contract put out on me before. Really, who would even care if a stuttering nobody like me lived or died? So now, knowing there was a good chance somebody wanted me dead enough to pay for it to happen…

  Well, it was unsettling. Very unsettling.

  “I can’t stay here in the room the whole t-time we’re in Las Vegas, Donovan.”

  “But he could be out there anywhere, waiting.” He had managed to pace, even though it was only for a couple of steps each way. “He could have, like, a rifle.”

  I pointed at the window, which overlooked the parking lot and the Strip from our room on the third floor of the Shamrock’s main building. As soon as we had figured out the guy might be a hitman, Donovan had drawn the curtains tightly closed.

  “He could have a r-rocket launcher aimed at our room right now, too,” I said.

  “That does it,” Donovan muttered. “I’m putting protective spells and wards on this room – “

  “What I was t-trying to say is that it won’t do any good to hide. We have to carry on with what b-brought us here.”

  “And risk your life? Aren, that’s the most – “

  He stopped short. Had he been about to say that my life was the most important thing in the world to him? I didn’t know. I didn’t want him to feel like that. And yet the idea that he might struck a spark inside me, a spark that kindled warmth…

  Or maybe I was just imagining the whole thing. I didn’t know, and I wasn’t going to force him to say. Instead I told him, “We came here to f-find that talisman, Donovan, and that’s what we’re going to do. We can work together, or I’ll g-go it alone. It’s up to you.”

  He took a deep breath and blew it out. “All right. By now I ought to know better than to argue with you.”

  “Are you s-saying I’m stubborn?”

  “That’s not necessarily a bad thing,” he said with a smile. “Stubborn people are usually the ones who get things done. But we can take some precautions. Putting up a few protective spells won’t hurt anything.”

  “They might alert any witches or w-warlocks around here.”

  “You’re thinking about Flynn?”

  “If he has the talisman…”

  “When you shook hands with him, did you sense any mystical power about him?”

  I had to shake my head. “N-no, not really.”

  “Neither did I.”

  “But if he’s descended from Eamon, shouldn’t he have powers?”

  “They’re not always passed on from one generation to the next. Sometimes they skip a generation or two. You know that.”

  For a long time I had thought they had skipped me. That was before I found out that the witches’ council had taken steps to keep my powers from manifesting. Even now there were moments when I had to remind myself of all the wondrous things I could do.

  “Maybe he’s so p-powerful he has shields up so nobody can tell he has powers,” I suggested.

  “Maybe,” Donovan said with a shrug. “I don’t guess we can rule it out. Either way, we need to find out where his living quarters are and figure out a way to get in there.”

  A way occurred to me, but I knew Donovan wouldn’t like it. I wasn’t crazy about the idea myself. But during that brief moment of interaction, Flynn had seemed to like me. We might have to try to take advantage of that. As Donovan had just said about the possibility of Flynn having magical powers, we couldn’t rule it out.

  That would have to be a last resort, though. In the meantime…

  “Why don’t we g-go have dinner and talk about it there?” I suggested.

  “That sounds good to me.”

  “I need to t-take a shower first. Flying on an airplane always makes me feel a little grungy.”

  “It’s all that recycled air,” he said with a smile. “Sure, go ahead. But I’ll be right out here.”

  “I won’t need any help washing my b-back, if that’s what you’re hoping.”

  He put a hand on his chest and said, “I stand ready to serve in any way I’m needed.” Then he grew more serious as he went on, “But I was thinking more in terms of that guy showing up again. We have to be ready for trouble all the time, from here on out.”

  I knew he was right about that.

  I gathered up what I needed and went into the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind me without being too obnoxious about it, I hope. Since the hotel was an old one, there was a bathtub, not just a shower, although a shower head had been added on the wall above the tub. I washed the airplane smell off my body, and shampooed my hair with a nice peppermint scented shampoo and conditioner provided by the hotel.

  My hair dried faster than it usually did at home. I wondered if it was the dryer air or the hair dryer mounted on the wall. My dark hair fell in soft curls on my shoulders as it dried.

  I dressed in a pair of black slacks and a nice blouse, over very sexy underwear. What could have been going through my mind when I packed those, I don’t know. Well…actually I did know, but that wasn’t going to happen. I needed to get finished and get back out there but I still took the time to lightly apply makeup. I never wore a lot of makeup, but I was in Las Vegas with Donovan, and I obviously did care what he thought. A pair of my fancier sandals with a low spiky heel finished off my outfit. The sandal had just enough heel to do some damage if I needed it for a weapon, but low enough that I could move quickly in if necessary. The things I had to consider now when I dressed.

  When I came out of the bathroom, I said to Donovan, “I’m finished if you want to c-
clean up.”

  “Nah, I’m good,” he said.

  There was a time I would have agreed with him, I thought.

  I put that out of my head and asked, “No more tr-trouble?”

  “Not a bit.” He had the TV on with the sound turned low. Some sort of sports highlights were on. He used the remote to turn it off, then said, “Let’s go.”

  He insisted on opening the door and checking the hallway before he’d let me come out. “Is the c-coast clear?” I asked.

  “You can make fun of me all you want, I’m going to look out for you if it kills me.”

  Given the things that had happened today, that was a distinct possibility, I thought gloomily.

  Nothing happened when we went downstairs, though. We ate dinner in the Shamrock Grill. Donovan had steak, I had grilled salmon and vegetables. The food was good, but the low-voiced conversation we had was less satisfying. We weren’t detectives or secret agents. Neither of us really knew how to go about finding something like the talisman when it turned out that it wasn’t in plain sight.

  When we had finished the meal and polished off a couple of glasses of wine apiece, Donovan said, “We might as well go and do a little gambling. We ought to accomplish something today.”

  “I don’t see how losing some m-money counts as accomplishing something.”

  He grinned. “Who says we’re going to lose? We have a built-in edge, remember?”

  I lowered my voice even more and said, “I’m not going to use magic to cheat!” Although that was exactly what I’d done earlier at the dice table, I reminded myself. But that was for someone else, not for me.

  “Who said anything about cheating? I’m a financial manager, remember? I know all about figuring the odds and handling money. You just have to be smart, that’s all.”

  It seemed to me that no matter how smart you were, the house was always going to have that built-in edge he had mentioned. But he could afford to lose a little, I supposed, so I said, “All right. We’ll give it a whirl.”

  Donovan signed for the check, then we left the restaurant and went into the casino, which was even busier and more crowded now. As we passed one of the slot machines, the lady who had been playing it shook her head and said, “I’m done.” She looked around at me and went on disgustedly, “You should give this one a try, honey. I’m bound to have used up all the bad luck in it by now. It’ll come up a winner just as soon as I walk away.”

  “Why don’t you try it one more time?” I suggested.

  “With my last silver dollar?” The woman shrugged. “Why the hell not?”

  She fed the coin into the machine and pulled the lever, twisting around on the stool in front of it so that Donovan and I could see the little symbols flipping over in the three windows. I had no idea how to make a slot machine pay off, so I asked, “What do you need to win?”

  “Boy, you are new at this, aren’t you?” the woman said with a laugh. “Three dollar signs. That’s the big jackpot.”

  I closed my eyes and thought about three dollar signs. I visualized them as vividly as I could.

  “Hey!” the woman said. “That’s one!”

  “That’s two…” Donovan said a second later.

  The woman’s whoop of excitement told me the third dollar sign had come up. I opened my eyes and saw them there as silver dollars began to pour out of the machine’s pay-off chute, or whatever they call it. The woman began gathering them up frantically as the other players applauded and shouted their congratulations.

  A hand fell on my shoulder from behind, and Malcolm Flynn said, “Looks like you’re always where the excitement is, Ms. McAllister.”

  Chapter 15

  I stiffened as a wave of guilt went through me. Despite what I had told Donovan a few minutes earlier about not using magic to cheat, that was precisely what I’d just done. Again, it wasn’t for my own benefit, but I wasn’t sure there was any moral distinction. Cheating was cheating.

  And I had the undeniable feeling that Malcolm Flynn knew what I’d done.

  If he did, he wasn’t showing any signs of it. Smiling, he turned to the woman who had won and said, “Congratulations, ma’am. That’s a nice jackpot.”

  She paused in stuffing silver dollars into her purse as fast as she could and said, “Thanks. Do you work for the casino?”

  “I own it.”

  “Oh. Oh!” The woman suddenly looked worried. “Am I doing anything wrong here?”

  Flynn crooked a finger at a couple of guys in white shirts, green vests, and bow ties, and as they approached he told the woman, “Not at all, but what we’d really like to do is get a few pictures with you – for publicity purposes, you know – and if you’d rather have a check for your winnings instead of those silver dollars, that can be arranged, too. It’s probably safer for you that way.”

  She hesitated but then nodded. “Yeah, I can see how it would be. Sure, that’ll be all right.”

  “Fine. If you’ll go with these gentlemen, they’ll take you to the office and handle everything.”

  The men in the green vests led her away. I said to Flynn, “You’re not going to have her killed and b-buried in the desert so you won’t have to pay off that jackpot, are you?”

  His laugh sounded genuinely amused. “You’ve seen too many movies. That jackpot was ten grand. The casino’s made more than that in the time since the lady pulled the handle. It’s not worth killing anybody over.”

  “It m-meant a lot to her.”

  “I know. That means she’ll leave with good memories.” He paused. “And that means she’ll come back and play again.”

  Donovan said, “And lose next time.”

  Flynn shrugged. “It’s the nature of the game.” He looked at me again. “Are the two of you enjoying your stay?”

  Clearly he hadn’t heard about the hitman trying to run us over in the parking lot. So I said, “Yes, so far. We decided to g-gamble a little.”

  He shook his head. “You don’t want to do that. I’ll let you in on a little secret.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice to a conspiratorial tone. “The house always wins in the long run.” With a smile he inclined his head toward the door. “Why don’t you do something where you can’t lose?”

  “What would that be?” Donovan asked, even though Flynn had directed the question toward me.

  “Our first show of the evening is about to start. Why don’t you come watch it with me from my private box?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I’m not m-much on floor shows. They seem sort of…scandalous.”

  That brought a chuckle from Flynn. “Only the good ones. Come on, you’ll enjoy it.”

  I glanced at Donovan and could tell by his expression just how torn he was by this development. Spending time with Malcolm Flynn was a good thing. It would give us a better chance to locate the falcon. On the other hand, Donovan was jealous of Flynn and just didn’t like him. I knew that without him having to tell me.

  Rescuing our loved ones trapped in that other realm trumped personal feelings. I nodded and said to Flynn, “All right. Thank you.”

  “My pleasure.” With seemingly effortless ease, he linked his arm with mine and said, “Come on.”

  That was pretty brazen of him, I thought. He was trying to steal me away right in front of Donovan, who as far as Flynn knew was my boyfriend or even my fiancé. Obviously, he didn’t care about that. He had his sights set on me and planned to move in like a shark.

  For the moment, I’d let him think he was succeeding. But as soon as we got what we were after, things would be different.

  I hoped I wasn’t fooling myself by thinking that and getting in too deep to extricate myself from a tricky situation.

  He took us out of the casino and led us across the lobby to a small door marked PRIVATE. Behind it was a hallway with several closed doors on either side of it. Flynn opened one of them, revealing a flight of carpeted stairs that led up to a small balcony overlooking the stage in the auditorium. Down below the seats
were starting to fill up as guests took a break from gambling for some entertainment.

  Instead of the theater-style seats down below, Flynn’s private box was furnished with lushly upholstered leather sofas. Still holding my arm, he motioned with his other hand for me to sit down in the center of one of them. He sat down on my right, while Donovan sat on my left. These sofas were a little bigger than love seats, but I wasn’t sure if they were actually built for three people. We were a little cramped, and that made me uncomfortable. Neither of them looked like they had any interest in moving to one of the other sofas, though.

  “I’ll have some champagne brought up,” Flynn said.

  “That’s really not n-necessary – ” I began.

  “Of course it is. You’re my guests, and my guests get only the finest treatment.”

  Donovan said, “Isn’t everyone who’s staying here your guest? This box might get a little crowded if you invite everybody.”

  “Well, then, let’s say you’re special guests,” Flynn answered easily. He opened a console built into the arm of the sofa and pushed a button. I figured that would summon one of the guys in green vests, and sure enough I was right. The waiter turned up less than a minute later. Flynn told him to bring a bottle of champagne.

  “Right away, Mr. Flynn,” the young man replied. “By the way, your uncle was looking for you a little while ago.”

  “Foster?” A frown creased his forehead. “Did he say what he wanted?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Well, if he wants to talk to me bad enough, he can find me. Thanks, Royce.”

  The waiter went to fetch the champagne. I said, “Does your uncle live here at the h-hotel, too?”

  “Yeah.” Flynn still seemed a little irritated. Evidently he and his Uncle Foster didn’t get along that well. “I have to keep an eye on him. He gets confused easily.”

  The house lights went down, the happily buzzing audience quieted a little, and music started playing. The curtain rose to reveal a line of statuesque showgirls in feathers and not much else. They went into a dance routine and actually weren’t bad, I thought.