“She not only lied. She has false identification.”
“I-It’s not what you t-think.” Sera stammered.
“You have no idea what I’m thinking, believe me.” Mallory said through clenched teeth.
“You don’t understand.”
“Start talking,” Cody ordered.
Sera pointed at him. “Technically I used my name. Popescu means Priest. Mallory, I’m so sorry. I lied about my ancestor at first. I’ve always known Balthasar Popescu was a witch hunter, a famous one, and my many times great-grandfather. Do you have any idea what it’s like to be a witch with that hanging over your head? I was run out of my last community. They didn’t even give me a chance.” Mal noticed Sera was wringing her hands.
Cody turned to Mallory. “Her last community was in California. Malibu, California. Madam Sylvia Broome was instrumental in running her out of town.”
Mallory sat down hard, her jaw falling open. Another murder suspect and, frankly, she was looking good for it.
“It’s true. Sylvia wasn’t a very nice person. She loved her status as High Priestess and she felt threatened by me. Oh, I didn’t mean that like you’re thinking! May I have a drink of water?”
Mallory nodded and waved in the direction of the sink.
Sera grabbed a small glass from the open shelving. Leaning against the counter, she reached for the stainless faucet. Bzzzap. “Oww.”
Mal walked over. “Are you alright?” She took the glass from Sera’s hand and filled it from the tap before handing it back.
Sera sighed, “Yes. I do that all the time.”
“Shock yourself?”
“Yes, that’s what I was getting to. Sylvia told me I was a very powerful witch, so she didn’t want me around, showing her up. Which is a joke because even if she was right, I don’t have control, not completely. I zap myself constantly.”
Cody shook his head. “So, you expect us to take your word for this? You are a powerful witch who may or may not have complete control. You were run out of town in California by Sylvia and you just happen to show up here for Hexfest under an assumed name, where Sylvia just happens to be, and where she happens to end up dead?”
“Captain Lumos, I know how bad this looks, but it’s the truth. I came here because I own the Witch House.”
“The what?”
“The Colonial on Old Salem Road. It’s like, 17th-century New England architecture or something. I think they call it the Witch House around here.”
“Oh, the one with the diamond paned windows?”
“Yes. That house has been in my family for hundreds of years. When I left California, I decided the only thing to do was to face my problem. I came here to learn, hopefully, from Star St. James and possibly the Vianus and to dig into my ancestor’s history. There are rumors that he’d changed and married a witch, I want to know more about the man. Not to make it sound worse, but it was a complete coincidence that Hexfest was going on and Sylvia was here. I decided to attend to see if I could learn anything about my powers.”
Mallory could relate to that. But wait, “I thought you bought the house.”
“I’m sorry, Mallory. It was part of my new identity. I had to say I bought the house.”
“Miss Popescu, can you account for all of your time while you were at the manor, with witnesses?”
“I kept notes from the meetings including names of people I met, so I believe so. It’s all at my house. I came here tonight because I have no power.”
“Did you know Edwin Poe?”
“Not really. Although, he did ask me if I would show him my house which I thought was strange.”
“Was he coming on to you?” Mallory asked.
“No, I don’t think so. He seemed genuinely interested in my house and its history. Anyway, I think he and Sylvia had a personal relationship, which was weird because I could have sworn, I saw him with another girl. She had long blonde hair, but I never saw her face.”
“Star?” Cody suggested.
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Alright. Write a timeline and drop it by the station tomorrow by noon or I will arrest you, Ms. Popescu.”
“I understand, Captain Lumos,” Sera answered solemnly. “May I still stay here, Mallory?”
“Yes, ask Lizzy to show you to your room.”
Mallory watched Sera walk off before asking, “What do you think? Still think Star did it?”
Cody exhaled a breath. “Until I have concrete proof, I can’t eliminate anyone.”
She nodded.
“I have the results of the autopsy.”
“So, was there bruising under her arms?” Mal asked anxiously.
“All the injuries were consistent with your scenario. Not only that, but it looks as though Mr. Poe was innocent after all. The M.E. found another bruise on Madam Broome’s back. In the shape and size of a woman’s shoe with a tiny heel. He thinks that after she was knocked out, the assailant rolled her to her stomach and strangled her.”
“So, after wrapping the leather rope around her neck. She stepped on her back for more leverage while strangling her. How horrible,” Mallory said.
“We’re still waiting on blood and tissue tests to find out how she was knocked out. There were no defensive wounds, so I hope she wasn’t aware.”
“Is Edwin’s autopsy tomorrow?”
Cody rubbed the back of his neck. “Yes, maybe we’ll learn more.”
After Cody left Mallory threw the supplies in the closet and tore back through the secret passage, grabbing the box of binders. She crossed the threshold of their suite on the third floor hollering for Danior.
“Come to my bedroom.”
“What on earth?” Nana questioned watching from the doorway of her room as Mal raced by.
“What? I’m on my way to meet Emilion.” Danior yelled from her room.
“Cancel! This is more important.” Mallory was breathing hard. Looked like she needed to start walking Bakalo. She chuckled at that thought.
No one answered Nana, shrugging, she went back in her own room.
Danior walked to Mallory’s doorway. “You’re seriously cramping my style, sis.”
“Come here, I need your help.”
“With what?”
“Cody just left. Sera Priest isn’t Sera Priest, she’s Sera Popescu. She said she lied because of Balthasar’s reputation and other problems she had in the past.”
“Okay, but why do I need to cancel my date?”
“Oh, sorry. Sera told me she found a book about Balthasar and some pages were missing. We were supposed to meet tomorrow about it, but I’m not sure I trust her. Anyway, she’s staying here tonight because, according to her, the Witch House is creepy without power.”
“Mal, no one’s lived in that Colonial Mansion for fifty or more years. It probably is creepy.”
“Yes, yes. My point is she’s here and the Witch House is empty,” Mal said.
Danior stared at Mallory’s eyebrows. Wiggling. Up and down, up and down. “Okay. OH!”
“Exactly.”
“Okay, we better change and call Eve and have her pick up Penny. Anyone else?”
“No, I think we should keep it to just us for this. I’ll call Eve. You might want to gather anything we might need.” She snapped her fingers. “A ladder, in case there are tall bookshelves.” Mal pulled a black turtleneck over her shirt. She pulled the binders out so she could lift the flap on the bottom of the box. Nice hiding place for the two pages she had found. She stuffed the pages in her pocket.
TWENTY SEVEN
M allory and Danior were shivering, as they reached the iron gates. They couldn’t see anything, but they could hear a low rumble.
“Do we have bears or big cats?” Danior asked nervously.
Mallory chuckled. “I know we are several miles from town, but no, that’s Eve’s truck, Black Beauty. She bought a new muffler with a special tip to make it sound like it growls.”
“It’s the bee’s knees!” Eve shoute
d.
They both jumped. Even knowing the growl was Eve’s truck, they couldn’t see interior lights. Apparently, due to her blacked-out windows. She must have lowered her driver’s side window.
“The first time I heard that growl, I fell in love all over again,” Eve said in a dreamy voice.
“Uh, if you’d rather be alone,” Danior said with a wrinkled nose as she laid the ladder in the truck bed.
“Get in here, you knuckleheads! I had extra oh-crap handles added, too. Hang on!” Mallory knew Eve lived for these night-time excursions.
“I officially dub this Operation Clandestine Caper,” Eve said in a Darth Vader voice.
Considering she was wearing a new one-piece black catsuit—non-rubber, thank the goddess—she was serious. Mallory and Danior looked at each other. They both grabbed the handles.
“Woohoo!” Eve yelled.
“Where’s Penny?” Danior shouted over the roar of the engine. “Is she not joining us?”
Eve turned her head to answer and swerved. Both girls shifted hard. “She had to go out of town on a new case.”
Mallory elbowed Danior. “Can you save your questions until the ride is over. I’d like to get there in one piece.”
A couple of blocks from Sera’s house, Eve flipped a switch which stopped the exhaust rumble. They made it to the Witch House in a record six minutes twelve seconds. If Mal hadn’t been holding on, she would have smashed into Danior like they had ridden the Scrambler at the carnival. Those pulled some heavy-duty G’s. Being on the edge of town, there were no streetlights near the house and with a new moon out, no one could see them. Mal and Danior climbed down from the truck and staggered toward the house.
“Sera was right, this place is straight up creepy at night… You know, I’m pretty sure I once heard it has a secret passage like Caravan Manor.”
“Yes!” Dani agreed. “I’ve heard that too. I don’t think it’s a passage like ours though. More of a hidden spiral staircase that twists and turns up to the second floor. Oooooh!” Dani raised her voice and waved her hands like a ghost, “All it’s missing is the graveyard and hearse.”
“Actually,” Mallory laughed, “I’m pretty sure the family is buried in a private cemetery out back.”
“Oh geez. Thanks for telling me that.”
“You girls done tormenting one another,” Eve hollered.
Both girls shrugged and nodded as Eve grabbed the ladder, she seemed to be the only one who was still able to walk in a straight line. When they reached the back of the house, Mallory turned to take the ladder and nearly screamed. Eve had pulled a black balaclava down over her face. It even had little cat ears.
“What?” Eve asked innocently.
Mal just shook her head. “Do you have your giant key ring?”
“Never leave home without it!” Eve quipped.
“I thought that was a credit card,” Danior said.
“Those work for break-ins in a pinch.”
Mallory started to question the wisdom of the Clandestine Caper. After trying three or four keys, the door to the kitchen swung open, screeching. Danior grabbed it quickly and motioned for Mal and Eve to enter. Eve dug around in her giant purse, this one a deep purple, and pulled out a can of lubricant. She pointed the little straw and sprayed the hinges. Those lubricants stink, but Mal was sure it would dissipate by tomorrow. Danior tested the door, silent as the grave. Sera might notice the ease of the door but might just consider it her lucky day.
Mallory stared as Eve pulled out three pairs of night-vision goggles and handed them out.
“What? I got a volume discount.”
Mal reached out to Eve’s purse and received a hand slap.
“No one looks inside the purse.”
“I just wanted to see if your Great Bamboozle garb was in there. Which reminds me, you’ve been requested for next year. How did you do it?” she asked.
“The Mabels, of course.”
“But we had a number of guests from out-of-town.” Mal said.
“Your point?” Eve cocked an eyebrow, well, as far as Mallory could tell, since her face was hidden by the mask.
Mal just stared.
“They all arrived before Hexfest started, didn’t they? Need I say more?”
Mallory’s eyes narrowed. “Do they spy on us?”
“Their nosy, not crazy!” Eve exclaimed. “Let’s get shakin’, bacon.”
Almost immediately after they donned the goggles and left the kitchen, Mal ran into Eve.
“Oww. Watch where you’re going, midget!”
Making their way through the hallway, they came upon what used to be a formal dining room. It was hard to tell for sure, but it looked like a chunk of the ceiling rested on what had once been a solid wood dining table. They couldn’t make out any details since everything was in shades of green. Ugh, Mallory hoped there wasn’t mold. They kept moving down the hallway, checking room after room. All were in various states of disrepair--Wallpaper peeling, plaster crumbling, the wood floors were warped and cracked.
“You need to get behind us, Eve, because you took incognito a little too seriously.”
“Whatever! Geez, this place is a dump,” Eve added. “I hope the witch-hunter offspring has a lot of money.”
“It’s not a dump,” Mallory protested. “It’s granny chic-gone-spooky.”
“What the hell is that?”
It means the place is chocked full of vintage relics. She touched the fringe on one of the Victorian lampshades, “Just look at all these fabulous treasures and check out that wallpaper. That has got to be over 200 years old.”
“Well, it’d be nicer without the water stains is all I’m saying.” Eve retorted.
They were searching for the library as it seemed as good a place as any to look for the witch hunter’s diary. They made a right turn out of the hallway and found it. Holy crap! So far this was the largest room in the house. It was two stories tall and at least thirty feet long, Rows and rows of books. Mal noticed an antique velvet fainting couch in the center of the room, the dust cover tossed on the floor. There was a bed pillow at one end; this was clearly where Sera planned to sleep. If this was where she camped out, chances were good the book was in here. Somewhere. The only other item uncovered was a grand pedestal desk. If she wasn’t mistaken, it was a Chippendale. While there was dust and debris everywhere, someone had polished this desk to a shine. Danior tested the rolling ladder, which seemed to be in working order, and climbed up to check the books on the upper shelves, while Eve scanned the lower ones. Mallory shrugged and started on the desk, figuring she might find something due to the apparent care of the desk. She started opening drawers and rummaging through them as quickly as possible.
“What in blazes are ye doing, girl?” Balthasar bellowed.
Mallory screamed. She turned to look in the direction of the voice. He let loose a shout. Mal had forgotten about the goggles. She scared a ghost. Score one for the good guys.
Danior and Eve shushed her.
“What’s the matter with you?” Danior asked.
Balthasar smirked. He definitely smirked.
“What’s the big idea?” Mal whispered furiously.
“Did you smoke one of my little cigarettes, Mal?”
“I’m talking to Balthasar.”
“The ghost is here?” Danior asked.
“Yes,” Mal sighed. “I’m trying to fulfill our deal witch hunter and you just broke a rule!”
“By breaking into my home? Without that little girl’s knowledge? What kind of thievery is this?”
Mal had had enough of this windbag of a ghost. “I don’t know if we can trust her yet. She lied about who she was. Now, granted, I would, too, if I knew I was related to you, but that makes her suspicious. She was kicked out of her last home by the woman that was murdered. She’s looking good as a suspect. She did tell me she found a book with missing pages and I recently found some loose pages so I wanted to see if they match before discussing any of this with her, i
f I decide I can trust her.”
“She’s had trouble because of me?” he asked gravely. “I only want to help her, now that I know of her.”
Mal dropped her head. Now she felt like the wicked witch of the west. She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I really am trying to help her because even though I don’t trust her, I do like her. She wants to know about you, so if I have information that will help her in that arena, I’ll be glad to share. I don’t really think she’s a murderer. I shook hands with her and think I would have felt something was off. And my hope is this same information will lead us to answers of what happened to you.”
“Thank ye. Will ye tell her that I’m sorry when ye feel ye are able?”
Mallory nodded.
“What book are ye lookin’ for? Maybe I can be of service?” Balthasar asked.
“I’m not sure, look at these pages I found. One mentions a Rebekah and the other, leaving home. Do they look familiar?”
“Aye, these are from my diary.” He closed his eyes.
It sounded like something was knocking around in the desk Mal was standing behind. She hadn’t searched the bottom drawers on either side of the desk yet. It sounded like the left held what she was looking for, she tried the drawer pull. Locked.
Mallory looked up to find Balthasar was floating in a sitting position above the desk.
“Dan, can you pick this lock for me?”
“On it.” She scrambled down the rolling ladder like a monkey, pulling a bobby pin from her hair. Her tongue was sticking out to the side as she worked the pin around inside the lock. There was a faint click. “Voila!”
Mal opened the drawer and watched as a small book levitated out and hovered in front of her face. She plucked it out of the air. The cover was brown leather that looked like it had been distressed only this was from several hundred years of wear and tear. About two-thirds of the way down, the initials BAP had been burned into the leather.
“Balthasar Anton Popescu,” he said. “Anton was the name of my father and eldest son as well. My wife, Rebekah, and I had three little boys —Anton, Samuel and Theodore, after my mother, Theodosia. I must go.”
“Why do I feel so depressed suddenly? Is the ghost sad?” Eve muttered.
Ouija, Death & Wicked Witchery Page 13