Black Cat Crossing

by Fitz Molly

  Roland lost interest quickly, but John climbed up my leg and to my shoulder so I’d hear him judge me clearly.

  “I hear Amazon has a lot of spellbooks. You might look into buying a few.”

  I grabbed him and set him back on the ground. “You try doing something like that without being prepared.”

  “That’s not in my job description.”

  “Um, hmm.” I walked past him. “Mr. Mayfield, are you here?”

  The ghost appeared in front of me, and I jumped.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  I waved him off. “It’s okay. I’m just still getting used to all this ghost stuff.”

  “It is unusual for a witch, but I’m pretty sure you’re not the only one that has this gift.”

  “You think?”

  “When it’s time, they’ll come to you.”

  I knew I couldn’t be the only ghost seeing witch, but I wasn’t sure I wasn’t the only one in Swan Hollow. “I’ve been doing some digging into your situation.” I felt awkward saying death, though there was no reason for that. “And I’ve got some questions.”

  “Okay.”

  “You said Jacob Cardinal was searching in your desk for something, but you don’t know what.”

  “I’m assuming he wanted the money for the job he’d done.”

  “Did you hide anything else inside the desk?”

  “I think we discussed this.”

  “Right, okay. What about the room where the desk was. Did you hide anything in there? Was there a safe in the wall, maybe?”

  “I didn’t hide valuables near my papers. Wouldn’t that be the first place a robber would look?”

  He had a point. “I know you said you didn’t keep money around the house, but did you have any other valuables hidden here?”

  “Just some old family jewelry, but it wasn’t expensive. I don’t even know if it was real.”

  “Where did you keep it?”

  “Different places. Under the mattress, in a bag in my wife’s urn. Places people wouldn’t think to look.”

  Under the mattress was the first place people would think to look, I thought. “What happened to the jewelry?”

  “You mean since I’ve been gone?”

  I nodded.

  “I’m not sure. I guess it would go to the estate.”

  “You didn’t leave it to your daughter?”

  He rubbed his chin. “I don’t know. Funny thing, being dead. I can remember some things, but others I can’t seem to recall.”

  “Do you remember that you left both your granddaughter and your daughter out of your will?”

  “I took my granddaughter out, but I don’t remember taking Grace out. Not sure why I’d do that.”

  “Did Grace know about the jewelry?”

  “I’m sure she did. Her mama used to wear it on special occasions.”

  “And what about Rebecca?”

  “Can’t say that I know for sure, but can’t imagine she didn’t know about it.”

  “When your estate put the house up for sale, Iris came by to show it and caught your daughter smashing a hole in the wall. Do you think she was looking for the jewelry?”

  “Why would she want a bunch of stuff that wasn’t worth anything?”

  “Maybe it was worth something, and you don’t remember?”

  “I guess it could be.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “I’m working to sell a home that once belonged to Cornelius Mayfield. I believe your firm handled his estate. Is there someone I can talk to about it?”

  “Hold, please.” Elevator muzak filled my car through my blue tooth. I turned down the volume while I waited for someone to pick up the line.

  A man with a deep, strong voice spoke through my car radio speakers. “Mr. Bond speaking. How can I help you?”

  I explained who I was and what information I was looking for.

  “You want to know if there was any jewelry sold through the estate?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’m not sure I can provide that information.”

  “My grandmother Esmerelda loved the Mayfield family jewelry. I was thinking, if you could give me the name of the people who purchased it, I could contact them. If I can offer them a reasonable price, I might be able to get it for her birthday.” I was as bad at lying on the fly as I was at making up spells.

  “Hold on, let me take a look at the file.”

  Ten minutes and two chewed to the nub fingernails—mine, he returned on the line. “I don’t see any jewelry in the files, ma’am. Perhaps the deceased sold or gave it away prior to his passing.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’ve read the inventory. Yes, I’m sure. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

  “No, thank you very much for your help.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said, and then the line went dead.

  “Interesting,” I said to John and sleeping Roland.

  “The plot thickens.”

  “Really, how much TV do you watch at night?”

  “Mice don’t sleep much. Especially the ones charged with protecting nosy witches.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Truth hurts.”

  Things were beginning to make sense, but what got me stuck was the value of the jewelry. If Mr. Mayfield was killed because of family jewels, then someone had to know they weren’t just some fake necklaces or whatever. They knew they were real, and they killed him to get them.

  Grace and Rebecca were the ones most likely to know. I couldn’t see a reason Jacob Cardinal would know about them, but that didn’t mean he didn’t. He’d been in the house without permission, going through the desk, and he’d lied to me about the night Mr. Mayfield died.

  * * *

  “What’re you doing here again?” Jacob Cardinal still had that gun on his belt.

  “You weren’t with your wife the night Mr. Mayfield died. I asked her.” I twisted my hands together and begged my nerves to settle.

  He laughed nervously. “I don’t even know the day the old man died. Why would she? And why would she remember where I was that night anyway?”

  “I told her the day he passed, and she remembers you didn’t come home that night because the next day was the day she filed for divorce.” He blinked then placed his hand back on the gun. I’d surrounded myself with protection, and I hoped it was strong enough to deflect bullets. “Were you looking for the Mayfield family jewelry? Is that why he caught you searching his desk?”

  “Little girl, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay out of my business and off my property.” He took two steps closer to me.

  I took two steps back. “I’m not afraid of you.”

  He laughed as he moved closer. “You should be.”

  I planted my feet firmly on his concrete driveway. “I’m going to find out what happened to Cornelius Mayfield, and if you’re responsible for his death.” I bent my head and eyed his gun. “And compared to what I can do, that thing’s nothing but a water gun.” I flipped around, stopped, then turned around again. “Oh, one more thing. You missed a few pieces. Beautiful ones, too,” I said and marched back to my car, hoping and praying he couldn’t smell the fear emanating from my pores.

  “Dang, girl!” John darted out from underneath my car and climbed onto the dash. “You almost had me believing you weren’t about ready to wet your pants.”

  I tried to start my car three times, but my hand shook so much I couldn’t. John climbed down and twisted the key for me.

  “You okay?”

  “I just need to get out of here.”

  “Where we going?”

  “I’ve got a plan.”

  “Can you fill me in? I need to be prepared to save your butt if that plan doesn’t work out the way you want.”

  “First, I’m going to see Esmerelda, then I’m going to tell Grace and Rebecca there’s another rumor, and then I’m going to sit at the Anderson house and wait. If one of them killed Mr.
Mayfield for that jewelry, then they’ll show up, and I’ll get them to admit it.”

  “You think you can get a witch to admit to murder?”

  “With the right spell, anything’s possible.”

  “What kind of rumor are you going to tell them?”

  “That Bella Anderson said Mr. Mayfield’s ghost told her he’d hidden the rest of the jewelry somewhere in the house, so whoever murdered him didn’t have it all.”

  “Is there more jewelry?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Oh, that’s good. That’s really good.”

  “I know, right?” I parked in front of Dew Drops and Tea Pots and rushed inside with a mouse and a cat on my tail. “Esmerelda,” I said breathlessly. “I need something to make someone tell the truth and something that can bind powers.”

  “Got a hot date?” When I didn’t laugh, she frowned. “Give me five minutes, and I’ll have it done.” She headed into the kitchen.

  I paced the small café for what felt like forever. I checked my watch, paced some more, then checked my watch again. My watch had to be slow. “Come on,” I whispered.

  The café door opened, and Tyler Raines walked in. “Alyssa, funny seeing you here.”

  I kept pacing, “Hey, Officer Raines.”

  He stepped in front of me. I almost bumped into him. “Everything okay?”

  I nodded. “Just getting something to take to the Anderson house. I’ve got to…” I paused to make something up. “I’ve got to finish decorating it for Halloween tonight.”

  “Sounds better than what I’m doing.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Patrolling Swan Hollow, making sure our citizens are safe.”

  I smiled. “And we appreciate that.”

  Esmerelda set two small glass bottles with medicine droppers on the counter. When she noticed Officer Haines examining them, she grabbed two tea bags and tossed them into a small paper bag, then set the bottles inside it too. “Just fill the dropper. You can put droplets where you need them, and the place will smell like pumpkins and apples.”

  I understood what she meant, and it had nothing to do with smelling apples or pumpkins. That was for Officer Raines. “Thanks, Esmerelda.” I pulled out my wallet and tossed a twenty on the counter. She put it in the March of Dimes donation jar like she did every time I tried to pay her. I rushed out with just a quick have a nice night to both of them.

  * * *

  John beat me to the car like he always did. “Who’s first?”

  “Grace. She’s closest.”

  “Why can’t you just toss the truth serum on them at their houses and ask them if they killed the guy?”

  “Because if I get the killer to the house, Mr. Mayfield will see them, and he might get some of his memories back.”

  “And that matters because?”

  “Because he can help me get the truth out of him. I don’t know how powerful they are. They could set their own spells up and do something to me. He may be able to help me if that happens.”

  “Dead warlocks don’t have powers, but I’ve got your back.”

  “I just need to catch the killer trying to find the extra jewelry. In case it goes to the Council of the Society of Supernaturals. I just want to cover all my bases.”

  “Got it.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Grace Mayfield slammed the door in my face. “Leave, witch,” she yelled from inside her house.

  “Fine, but I think you’ll want to hear what I have to say.” I stood on the porch and waited.

  The small porch shook, and I gripped the railing to keep my balance. “I said leave, witch!”

  “There’s more jewelry, Grace. It’s hidden inside the house.”

  The door flung open. “Says who?”

  “Bella Anderson. That’s why the family moved out so quickly. She could see your father, and he told her the person that killed him didn’t get all the jewelry.”

  She tilted her head. Sweat dripped off her forehead and hit her shoulder.

  “Don’t bother trying to find the girl either. I’ve gathered my coven, and we’ve cast a protection spell over her. You’ll never find her.” I didn’t have a coven, and I hadn’t cast a spell over the little girl, but I would as soon as I got back to my car.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “About what? The spell or the jewelry?”

  She narrowed her eyes at me.

  “Have a nice night,” I said and walked confidently back to my car.

  I cast a protection spell over little Bella Anderson, hoping it would work since I had no idea where she was overseas.

  “You realize what you just did, right?”

  “What?”

  “You told the witch there was more jewelry, so even if she didn’t kill her father, she’s going to come looking for it.”

  “Oh, I know, but that’s kind of part of the plan.”

  “Huh?”

  “If they all show up, maybe they’ll blame each other for Mr. Mayfield’s death.”

  “How does that help us?”

  “Truth spells always work better in groups. And they’re more fun, too.”

  “I’m going to need a big chunk of cheese when this is all over.”

  “That can be arranged.”

  We didn’t have a lot of time, so instead of driving over to Rebecca Mayfield’s home, I sent us there with a spell.

  “Witches of past, get this vehicle and its passengers to Rebecca Mayfield’s home fast.” A wave of my hand and the next thing I knew, we were at her house.

  “That’s impressive.”

  “I’m not as bad at spells as you think.”

  “I wouldn’t say that.”

  I knocked the large lion head knocker against the old wood door and whispered to John. “If Grace killed her father, she wouldn’t call and tell Rebecca about the jewelry.”

  “You never know. Maybe it was a team effort.”

  “Another reason I’m telling them each a different story.”

  And that’s what I did. Rebecca and I didn’t battle magically, but she did try to put a curse on me. I just laughed. No curse could penetrate my protection spell. At least I hoped it wouldn’t. “If that little girl is right, then you’d better get out of town fast.”

  “I didn’t kill my grandfather.”

  “That’s not what she told me, but whatever.” I turned around to leave, then flipped back around and said, “She’s a little girl. Maybe she got you and your mom mixed up. I’m sure your grandfather talked about you both.”

  Her mouth dropped as her eyes widened. I’d just planted the seed, and so I hurried back to my car and sent us magically to the Anderson home to wait for the person or persons that killed Cornelius Mayfield.

  * * *

  I sat on the dark side of the home's front porch and waited. Roland was down for the count in the back seat of my car, and nothing other than an earthquake would wake that cat. I wasn’t even sure an earthquake would. John hung with me, scurrying back and forth across the deck full of nervous energy.

  “They’re coming. I can feel it. It’s not going to be good. It’s not going to be good at all,” he said out loud, but more to himself than me.

  “We’ll be fine,” I said, even though I wasn’t sure I believed that myself.

  I’d turned off all the lights in the house but left the front door cracked open just a bit. I couldn’t prepare enough for what a witch could do to enter the home, so I banked on desperation and greed to overpower either of them creating a detailed plan.

  The more I thought about Jacob Cardinal, the less I thought he could be the killer. Too many things would have to fall in place for him. He’d have to know about the jewelry, find it, and then kill Mr. Mayfield. But why kill the man? Had he caught Cardinal red-handed and in death forgotten? It was possible. Anything was possible, but I felt like the biggest possible killers were of his own blood.

  It was just a feeling in my gut.

  The faint sound
of the wood floor creaking inside came through the crack in the door.

  “Did you hear that?” John asked.

  I nodded.

  “I’m going in.” He raced through the crack.

  I stood and peeked through the window, but it was too dark to see anything. When the creaking started again, I knew someone was inside. I closed my eyes and sent myself to the room Mr. Mayfield once used as his office. I’d covered myself with an invisible cloak, but that didn’t mean Grace and/or Rebecca hadn’t planned for that. Neither of the witches was nice, and I simply couldn’t plan for everything they might do.

  Mr. Mayfield appeared beside me. It was the first time I wasn’t surprised.

  “Someone is here,” he whispered.

  “I know. I heard them. Can you go see who it is?”

  “I’ve tried, but whoever it is is dressed in black and is wearing a knit ski mask. I can’t even tell if it’s a man or woman.”

  “It’s okay. Do me a favor, get behind the person, and keep an eye on them. If they come up here, come tell me, okay?”

  He nodded and disappeared. I tiptoed toward the small closet and carefully opened the door, breathing a sigh of relief when the door didn’t make a sound. I stepped inside and pulled the door, not completely shutting it.

  The entire house was silent, and I nearly screamed when the closet door I was hiding behind pushed open.

  “It’s just me,” John whispered.

  “You could have told me before you almost gave me a heart attack.”

  “Technically, witches don’t have heart attacks.”

  “Not now, John!”

  “We have a problem.”

  I crouched down and offered him my hand. He climbed into my palm, and I held him at eye level.

  “It’s not the witches. It’s the smell. I recognize the smell.”

  “What? Who—what smell?” A soft red glow lit up the closet. “Crap! My invisible spell is wearing off.”

  “Make another one! She’s coming upstairs.”

  “I can’t! It wouldn’t work. My body needs a break from hiding itself!” I took a breath and whispered, “Who is it,” just as the closet door swung open, and the person ripped off their mask.