by Day, P. J.
Ariel stopped in front of Javier, for good reason too. Out of the dozens of nameless and faceless workers, by Ariel’s standards of course, it was time to question the unremarkable man. This man, with the bushy moustache and disheveled hair is no one special, he reflected. Why does she want him in particular? “Javier,” he taunted. “Why aren’t you looking at me when I talk? Who are you that they’d send that woman to look for you?”
Javier trembled at Caliban’s scrutiny but remained calm. They forced him to switch jobs since he’d suddenly become quite valuable. He went from mixing paint, a hazardous occupation that meant a slow death because of the ink’s carcinogens, to setting the large sheets of bills on the floor to dry. Javier tried to steady his hands and keep his head low. There was no way he’d peer into Ariel’s eyes this time. He knew he was greatly missed, by his wife and family, and also by his friends and co-workers at the chrome shop, where everyone there was like family as well. And he had an inkling about Grant’s wife, Mercy. Julia would always joke with him that Mercy dabbled in Brujeria. Everyone at the chrome shop knew she was a P.I., but they didn’t suspect anything else about her. Javier did though, but he kept the information to himself out of respect for Mercy and her family.
Javier prayed in Spanish, and began counting in his mind, repelling any thought or suspicion that Mercy was probably looking for him. He’d seen magic now, and he now knew that the man who held him captive was both evil and powerful. It made sense that Mercy could be around. Uno, dos, tres, quatro, cinco... He felt Caliban probing his mind and continued counting with all his concentration.
Ariel picked up the numbers and was slightly puzzled. He grabbed Javier by the arm and looked into his dark brown eyes. The counting was all Javier could do to appear dull-eyed and calm. He kept at it. His lips became dry at the repetition.
Perhaps he’s gone mad, Ariel thought to himself as he finally let Javier go. Maybe this is the only way he can keep working. It was of no consequence to Ariel. Javier went back to placing the large sheets and Ariel continued on.
He paced, watching everyone work in perfect order. The guards had been ordered to be on extreme watch, everyone was commanded to stand guard for hours on end, although no one knew where they had moved…or so Mr. Caliban projected.
He entered the elevator and rose to the main floor. The place was palatial and decorated likewise; he’d traveled far and wide to fill it with rare antiques from the Far East to Europe to Mexico—each item containing a unique and occult history.
Caliban entered his impressive living room and let himself out into the gardens. He took pleasure in natural beauty. A trait shared by Warlocks birthed under the sign of Taurus. When he was finished with his current contractual obligations, he planned to take some time off, travel, learn even more of the Black Arts. He wandered down the pathway, lined with every kind of flower, herb and brush one could imagine. Along the way there was an old stone bench, Mesopotamian in origin, and he sat down on it.
If everything was fine, why did he have this feeling? It was a longing, almost. Suddenly, he couldn’t get that woman’s face out of his mind. Too bad they had such different agendas.
He took a deep breath and gazed down at the foothills below him and reflected on his thoughts, the repetitive thoughts of the magical woman. Even someone like Ariel Caliban might become a little paranoid and obsessed. That was it. He was tired of this endeavor, it was risky, but he’d known that from the start. But as he took another slow, deep breath, it was as though he could smell a storm brewing.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Joe Patterson was so engrossed in his work that he didn’t hear Mercy until she’d knocked three times.
“It’s open,” he said without looking up.
“Working overtime?” She entered his office, smiling. “You look like crap.”
“Thanks,” he said, looking up and smiling at Mercy’s stressed, but still vibrant visage. “Can’t say the same about you, Miss Cruz. What brings you here? You got anything for me? About the case, I mean of course.”
Mercy laughed, and Joe was now in a good mood for the first time that day. He was on the radiated print shop case, and he was frustrated. To all appearances, the contents of the printing shop and the people employed there had disappeared into thin air and right underneath their noses. He couldn’t get a break. It made no sense.
Mercy was still waiting for Lily to finish the potion, so she had just stopped by to see if her detective friend had found anything. She wasn’t about to share the address she’d obtained. Not until she at least got Javier out of there and made sure it was safe for the ordinary Detective Patterson and his colleagues. If, and it might have been a big if, it was a correct address at all.
“Good old fashioned police work,” she simply said, taking a seat and shaking her head. “You don’t have anything? What do you guys do around here anyways?” she teased.
“Oh, I don’t know, try to break up gangs, drug dealers, thieves, rapists. You know, the usual.”
“I know,” she said, more serious now. “I do appreciate the work you guys do.” The city had some tough areas. And she knew they were overworked and under budget. “I know you’ve got your hands full. But this has to be the biggest case ever, am I right?”
“It is,” he agreed. “And I just don’t get how everything vanished overnight. We got no leads. Not one fingerprint in the whole damned place. It’s just weird.” He gazed at Mercy across from him. “So I’ll ask again. You got anything new?”
“No,” Mercy lied. “I was just checking on you, that’s all. You know Joe, everyone, from my ex-husband to Javier’s wife…I’m feeling the pressure, and I’m worried about all those other people I saw through the window as well.”
“You and me both,” Joe said. “This case feels so…so ominous, you know? Nothing to fool around with. Whoever’s running it I suspect is some kinda cartel, and those people they have captured could be killed. If they’re not already.”
“Don’t say that!” Mercy snapped. “I’ve got a hunch about this. They have to be still alive.”
Joe looked into her eyes. His look unflinching. “You do have something.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Mercy, I’m a cop, remember? I’m trained to spot bullshit. I think you’re holding something back.”
Mercy leveled eyes with him. “I just have a hunch, that’s all. Something I’m going to check up on. I came to see if you had anything. Apparently you don’t. So I’ll let you get back to work.”
“If you’re withholding evidence, I don’t care how much I dig you, it still could be considered obstruction of justice, Mercy. And, you’re only one person. Just a single mom, against all this? Come on, just spill it.”
“Excuse me? What did you just say?”
“I didn’t mean it that way.”
“You implied that because I’m a single mom I wouldn’t be able to handle myself.” She leaned forward, dark eyes flashing in anger now. “You couldn’t be more wrong, Patterson.” Mercy turned to go.
“I swear, Mercy, I didn’t mean that. Why are you so sensitive? I couldn’t do it by myself any more than you could.”
But Mercy was already on her way out, slamming his office door behind her.
* * *
It was late afternoon by the time Mercy picked Terra up from school and arrived at Lily’s shop. Mercy was still getting over her anger from Joe’s comment, but Terra loved to visit the shop and started wandering around, taking in the various charms, oils, potions, books, some artwork and statues. She loved the candles best, and held each one carefully as she sniffed their unique scents.
“Well?” Mercy asked as she approached the counter.
“Mercy! I’m just about finished. With the potions.”
“Oh, my God, Lils, how long does it take?”
Lily sensed Mercy’s irritation. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Mercy took a deep breath. “You said almost finished? What does that mean?”
> “It means you have about enough time to get your daughter’s hands off my crystals while I close up,” Lily answered, matter of factly.
Mercy glanced over at Terra, who had made her way behind the counter, opened up the glass case and picked out various crystals and rocks, each one containing their own unique qualities.
Mercy’s lips drew into a smile. Her daughter was curious, alright, and probably eager enough to remain still while receiving Mercy’s instruction of each item’s unique and potent properties. But the girl was only five, and the last thing Mercy needed was for her daughter to tell Mrs. Burke that she regularly visited a botánica that catered to the occult and blasphemous whims of witches.
“Honey, put those back. We’re not staying long, just waiting for Lily to close up.”
Terra frowned but did as she was told. Almost. Mercy turned her head toward the back room, impatient for Lily to hurry up, and Terra felt compelled to keep one particular stone. So she picked it up and placed it into her pocket and then finally closed the case as she was told.
Lily hustled out from the back, bearing a purse, laptop, sweater and a mysterious ebony box. “Hold this, and keep it safe,” she said, handing it to Mercy. She had her keys to the shop between her teeth, and moved toward the front door. “Let’s get out of here, and get down to business.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
In Lily’s back patio the two women sipped lemonade and watched Terra draw with crayons onto white copy paper.
“You know, she drew a picture of Javier,” Mercy commented.
“Really?”
“Yes. Boy did I get an earful from Grant. He thought I was talking to Terra about my cases.”
“Well, it’s just her gift,” Lily countered.
“I know. But he won’t understand that.”
Lily nodded and took a sip of the home-made drink and gave a blissful sigh. “Isn’t this wonderful? Hey Terra, do you like the lemonade?”
Terra took a big drink, nodded, then went back to her drawings.
“You’re stalling,” Mercy remarked.
“Only because I’m still not so sure this is a good idea,” Lily answered. “I mean, what if something goes wrong? You’re underestimating this man’s nature.”
Mercy eased back in the patio chair and closed her eyes, thinking of an explanation that would satisfy Lily. “I do have an idea who I’m dealing with,” Mercy said, confidently. “And Lily, I’m becoming stronger. I feel it. I don’t know how or why, but I am. I think about things, and sometimes, actually lately, they’ve been happening with regularity, in fact, I can’t seem to miss.”
“Well, this is all well and fine,” Lily said, “but still. You’re going in there on your own? Come on, Mercy, be realistic.”
Mercy rolled her eyes. “Not you, too. Look, law enforcement is obviously overwhelmed, or just plain unable to handle this. I’m the one who’s gotten all the information. I’m the one who faced this guy. And I’m the one…” She set her lemonade down and turned to her friend. “Who’s decided to face this guy head on? No one else can do it. You know why, Lily?”
“Why Mercy?”
“Because I already feel stronger and wiser than the first time I faced him.”
Lily took a good, long look at her friend’s determined expression. She didn’t buy Mercy’s sudden bout of confidence, but the two had built a trust up over the years, and she felt obliged to honor that trust. “Alright,” Lily said with a shrug. “Come inside. I’ll give it to you, and I’ll show you what you need to do. Your crazy eyes have convinced me.”
“Terra, we’re going inside for a minute,” Mercy called from the patio door. “Are you okay out here?”
“Yeah, I’m just coloring, Mom,” Terra said. Her daughter was focused on her artwork and disinterested. Mercy frowned for a moment, but Lily led her into the kitchen and retrieved the ebony box. Inside was a sleek, silvery satchel. From this she drew out three tiny vials filled with liquid.
She carefully set the three vials on the kitchen counter. Mercy glanced over to her daughter to make sure she wasn’t peeking in. Little Terra was immersed in her drawings, seemingly mesmerized.
“Now pay attention,” Lily ordered, gesturing to the three vials. “Each vial has a different colored cap, so you won’t get confused. I didn’t label them, just in case they fall into the wrong hands.”
“Of course,” Mercy said, drawing her attention back to the business at hand.
“The one with the red cap is the love potion…funny, huh?”
Mercy flashed a half grin.
“Whoever drinks it will fall for whoever he or she is with. Got that?”
“Good. But how sure are you that this concoction will work?”
“It’s been tested,” Lilly said.
“Really? With whom?”
“Remember the bartender?”
“You sneaky, sneaky woman.”
“Also, remember, you don’t want to have him drink it and then go into the kitchen to talk with the cook or have him talk to one of his henchmen. He would instantly fall in love with the first person he sees, no matter the gender. Let’s just say this potion is very progressive.”
Mercy giggled. “Okay. Got it.”
“But this one, with the black cap, will limit the potion to around two hours. I did the best I could and the two hour mark is the earliest I managed to cap it at. You can’t combine the two until a little while before you drink it, it has this bizarre shelf life where it can sense the presence of the love potion, and takes a while to brew on its own as soon as it’s in its vicinity.”
Mercy’s gaze had wandered back to her daughter. She was so intent on her work...
“Hey! Are you listening?”
“Yes,” Mercy said, “I can’t combine the two until just before drinking. What else?”
“This one with the white cap is your anti-potion. You have to take it, Mercy. I understand that in order to gain his trust you’ll probably have to drink from the same bottle or something. So right before you go in, mix the black one with the red one. Then have him drink it right away. But then, you have to figure out a way to take the white one on your own, without him seeing you. Otherwise, you’ll fall in love with him, and probably all Hell will break loose.”
Mercy continued staring at the potions on the palm of her hand. “How’d you learn to do all this, Lily?”
“I’ve got my ways.” Lily smiled, then became serious. “But I think you’re playing with fire. And don’t think I won’t come after you, or call your aunt if things go wrong.”
“They won’t,” Mercy said. She started to put the vials back into the silver satchel when Lily stopped her.
“Tell me. Repeat what I just told you.”
“The red one is the love potion. The black one limits it to about two hours. The white one is my anti-potion. Okay?”
“And also,” Lily warned, “Don’t leave the vials anywhere. Don’t leave any trace whatsoever. Swallow them if you have to. They’ll expunge out of your system after a while.”
Mercy busted out laughing, and Lily chimed in. “I can just see it,” Mercy said. “Like inspecting Terra’s diapers when she swallowed a dime, looking for something shiny. Can you imagine what all those potions coming out at the same would look like?”
They giggled some more, but Lily became serious again. “I mean it, Mercy, be careful.”
“I will.”
Lily gave a reluctant smile. “Okay. Good luck, sistah. I better hear from you in five, six hours max.”
Mercy hugged her friend. “Thank you, Lils,” she said, eyes shining, excited. She was embarking on her first duty as a full-on witch rather than a P.I. and doing it on her own, without help from her aunt. She rushed to kiss her daughter goodbye and left.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Mercy pulled over down the road from the mansion and checked her face in the mirror. She primped her hair just right, and slicked on an extra layer of what she’d dubbed as her red CFM lipstick. She ch
ecked the mascara she hardly ever wore, and figured this was as good as it would get. She’d gone home to change quickly into her special little black dress, which she hadn’t worn since…actually she had bought it on sale one day, and that night was the first time it hugged Mercy’s slender frame.
She pulled the silver satchel out of her bag and, in the moonlight, poured the contents of the red vial into the black one. She didn’t know how she would get her target to drink the stuff, but she counted on her intuition and growing clairvoyance. She tucked the white vial, the anti-potion, into her bra, took a deep breath and exited her car.
The mansion was both spectacular and indiscreet. At the top of a long, winding road, it nestled into the hillside like a hidden chateau, far enough away from other properties so as not to attract too much attention.
There were no fences or gates, which actually gave her a foreboding feeling. Apparently he didn’t need much security. Even now she could feel his presence and those of the workers within.
Mercy cleared her mind of all negative and paranoid thoughts and focused on catching this man’s attention in a way he didn’t find threatening as she walked slowly up the long drive to the main entrance. A hawk flew overhead, and she could hear the call of a mockingbird; a bird that never made the same song twice, ever.
Calm yourself, Mercy, she murmured. This is your chance. For Javier, for yourself.
As Mercy approached the front door she once again heard whisperings in her mind. He knew she was here. She was about to lift the heavy cast-iron clapper, that hung just below the whimsical gargoyle door-knocker, when the door opened.
* * *
Ariel felt her approaching long before she parked. He knew she was coming for the one named Javier. He might have let her have him, he surmised, if she hadn’t ruined everything and made him move his plant.