This Magick Marmot

by Sharon Pape

  “When will the spell wear off?” Tilly asked. “You know Isenbale doesn’t like other cats.”

  “I can withdraw it this very moment. It’s a new one I perfected recently—quick, reliable, and easy to remember.”

  Marmot, return to your true self,

  Let go of all things cat.

  No ill effects remain with you…remain with…remain…”

  “Is there a problem?” I asked.

  “No—why must you always think the worst?” he snapped. “It’s merely taking me a moment to remember the last line.” Tilly and I bit our tongues and waited. At the half hour mark, she retired to Tea and Empathy to bake away her distress. Ten minutes later, the marmot quietly reasserted itself. Where there was a cat, there was now a marmot. “Yes!” Merlin cried as if he finally recalled the spell in its entirety. “I forgot I built an expiration time into the spell. One can never be too careful when working with transmutations.” I didn’t bother asking why he hadn’t glamoured her instead. He’d probably forgotten glamouring was less risky. The marmot jumped off his lap and the three of them headed back to Tilly’s shop to await the fruits of her labors.

  I was relieved to have the incident behind us, but for some reason it lingered in my mind. Hours later when I climbed into bed, it was still playing in a loop in my brain. As tired as I was, it took me a long time to fall asleep.

  Chapter 30

  According to Charlotte’s schedule, she’d be spending two days in Manhattan working with her clients on the design for their new condo, after which she would take a car up to New Camel. She’d stay with me for one night, before heading back to JFK for her flight home. When I told Tilly about her impending visit, she wanted a list of her favorite desserts.

  “For all I know, she’s on a no dairy, no sugar, no gluten, air and water diet,” I said. She’d looked pared down and super-toned at the reunion.

  “No, no, never mind,” Tilly said, “I’ll make a few different things.”

  Travis asked if he should be available for Charlotte’s pronouncement in case it had to do with the investigation. “Just because she refused to discuss it over the phone, doesn’t mean it’s dark and mysterious. She tends to be overly dramatic. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s coming to talk me into a different shade of lipstick. But whatever it is, she’ll speak more freely if it’s just the two of us.” He said he understood, sounding more relieved than disappointed.

  “Any place you want to have dinner?” I asked Charlotte when she was in the limo on her way up here. “Or I could cook something.”

  “Not to knock your talents in the kitchen, but I’ve been dreaming about having a burger and shake at the Caboose. It’s still there, isn’t it?” There was a note of alarm in her voice as if she just realized it might have gone out of business during the years she lived on the West Coast.

  “It is and we can.”

  At five thirty Charlotte popped out of the limo with one medium sized suitcase on wheels. “What an endless trip,” she groaned, hugging me. “I could have flown back to California in the same amount of time. Thank goodness for cell phones. Halfway here I made arrangements to fly from Ithaca to JFK tomorrow.”

  She came inside to freshen up. If I had less willpower, I would have tackled her and forced her to tell me what on earth she couldn’t have said over the phone. But Bronwen, Morgana and Tilly hadn’t raised a ruffian.

  “I have to give you credit,” Charlotte said as she brushed on more blush, “most people I know would have badgered me to death by now to reveal my mysterious news.”

  “Imagine that. Ready for dinner?”

  We had a short wait for a booth in the restaurant that had started life as an actual train caboose. Between the diners, people waiting for tables and those picking up takeout, the noise was like a physical curtain. Whatever Charlotte wanted to tell me wouldn’t leave our immediate space. It might not even make it intact from her lips to my ears.

  We ordered our burgers. She went for a chocolate shake. I craved vanilla. The shakes arrived first. She was struggling to sip hers through the straw. “I forgot how thick these are! They barely qualify as a beverage.”

  I’d reached the limits of my patience. “Charlotte, can we discuss the reason you made the trip up here to speak to me in person?”

  She laughed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t notice the smoke coming out of your ears.”

  “Where there’s smoke,” I said, wondering if I could weave a gray spell that would force her to give up the goods.

  She lost the smile and pushed the shake out of sipping range like she meant business. “Okay. The reason I wanted to tell you in person is that I need to see your reactions. It’s very hard for me to break a confidence—especially this one. I have to know that what I say is taken the right way.” A food runner dropped off our cheeseburgers and waffle fries. Charlotte waited until he was gone before continuing. “I think I know the reason Genna was murdered. I almost went to the police with it, but I felt like I was betraying her. Then I remembered I could tell you, and that’s sort of like keeping it in the family, if you know what I mean.”

  “You do understand I might have to take it to the police anyway, right?”

  “Yes, it’s not six degrees of separation, but it will have to do,” she said with a joyless laugh. “This isn’t only about Genna’s death, it’s about Scott’s death too. Maybe what I’ve been carrying around for the past ten years will help with your investigation.” My mind was screaming questions, but I didn’t make a sound. I had the feeling one wrong word could change her decision to tell me.

  She took a deep, shaky breath and said, “Genna was in love with Scott. She was obsessed with him.”

  I could no longer contain the questions. “Since when? Were they ever a thing?” If they had been, Scott and the school grapevine had bypassed me.

  Charlotte shook her head. She had a mouthful of burger. “Sorry—I was starving,” she said after swallowing. “This is every bit as good as I remembered. That never happens.” She slid the shake back and worked on it for another minute before blotting her mouth with a napkin. “Her feelings for him grew over the years. She thought fate was on her side, throwing them together at every turn. They wound up in a lot of the same classes and afterschool clubs. They were invited to a lot of the same parties.”

  How had I not known the extent of her feelings for him? Sure, I’d heard her say how cute he was on a few occasions, how smart and considerate. Maybe she refrained from taking me deeper into her confidence, because she knew Scott and I had grown up as close friends. “So her feelings grew slowly,” I said, nibbling on a waffle fry. I was trying to make sense of what Charlotte was telling me. “It wasn’t a sudden case of hormone fueled lust.” Genna had had a reputation for being fun, but she’d had a more conservative side too. “So what happened?”

  “During our senior year, she was stressing because she felt like time was running out for her and Scott to get together. She went back and forth about whether she should tell him how she felt, before it was too late and they went their separate ways.”

  “But he was already with Ashley. Everyone knew they were going to get engaged. Did Genna really believe if she confessed her love, he’d finally see the light? That borders on delusional.”

  Charlotte dredged up the last of her shake. “I know. I suggested she go to a therapist, talk it out with someone who could be objective. But she tossed her head that way she used to and said, ‘I don’t need a therapist. I just need to make Scott understand that Ashley isn’t the right one for him.’”

  “Did she actually confront him?”

  Charlotte picked up the last third of her burger, brought it to her mouth, then put it back on her plate. “When she found out Ashley wasn’t going to the lake that night, she decided it was fate intervening to give her one last opportunity. She was really excited about the prospect of telling Scott how she
felt. When I couldn’t talk her out of it, I just prayed she’d lose her nerve.”

  “Not likely with all the alcohol around that night.” The drinking had started at the dinner. Kids had stashed water bottles filled with vodka in their cars. No color, no smell for the chaperones to detect.

  Our waiter stopped by to ask if we wanted another shake or dessert. We groaned our no thank yous. He put the check on the table. “Whenever you’re ready. Have a good night, ladies.” He couldn’t leave fast enough for me.

  I leaned across the table. “Well what happened?”

  “Scott didn’t react the way she dreamed he would, the way she convinced herself he would. He told her off and not too kindly.”

  “That doesn’t sound like Scott, but maybe it was the alcohol talking.”

  “Or maybe Genna was obnoxious and wouldn’t take no for an answer. Anyway, when he went into the lake to clear his head, Genna went too. She still thought if she kissed him, he’d finally understand that they were meant to be together. It was pitch black. She grabbed him and kissed him, but he pushed her away. Their legs got tangled and they both went under. She bobbed right up, but he didn’t. He’d hit the back of his head on an outcropping of rock, lost consciousness and drowned.”

  It had happened a decade ago, but listening to the details made it seem like it was yesterday; the wound in my soul as fresh and deep as ever. Plenty of people had blamed Genna for Scott’s death, based on gossip I’d made a point of ignoring. Now I blamed her too. I lost two good friends that night.

  Charlotte’s shoulders slumped. “I thought I’d feel relieved to tell you and get this burden off my chest, but I don’t.”

  “That’s because telling me doesn’t change any of it,” I said. “It would be nice if things were that simple. How was Genna afterward?”

  “She was on a downward spiral, grieving his loss and torn with guilt. I didn’t think she’d ever recover. But somehow she convinced herself that what happened was meant to be and would have happened whether she’d been there or not. She couldn’t wait to leave for college where she could reinvent herself.”

  “One last question and then we’ll put that night to rest. We should try to enjoy some girl time and better memories before you leave.”

  “The sooner the better.”

  “Did Genna ever mention Tony Russo when she talked about the lake?”

  Charlotte frowned. “Only to say he was one of the people who was there. Why?” I told her about Tony’s close calls. “It sure sounds like the same person who killed Genna is after him too. I wonder if there are any other names on their list.”

  Chapter 31

  Travis and I were in my kitchen making dinner—blueberry pancakes and scrambled eggs with sharp cheddar. He took charge of the pancakes, claiming he was a master flipper. By default I presided over the eggs. I’d had a busy day with back to back bus tours and the last thing I wanted to do was leave the house again. When Travis showed up on my doorstep to surprise me and whisk me out to dinner, I begged for leniency and takeout.

  “I have a better idea,” he said, his head in my fridge checking out the slim pickings, “breakfast for dinner and I’ll do the dishes.”

  I nearly swooned. “You have no idea how great that sounds!” By some miracle of timing, the pancakes were plated at the same moment as the eggs. The English muffins popped up in the toaster and were buttered as the tea finished brewing.

  “Was there ever a couple more perfectly in sync?” he asked as we carried our food to the kitchen table.

  I laughed. “Matchmaking services take note—the key to a lasting relationship is timing—like everything else in life.”

  Travis reached across the table and took my hand in his. He was using the other one to tuck a forkful of pancakes into his mouth. “If I wasn’t so hungry, I’d sweep you off your feet and carry you upstairs this very moment. Rhett Butler would look shabby by comparison.”

  “And if I wasn’t famished, I’d dare you to prove it this very minute.”

  * * * *

  Travis was on his way back to the Glen early the next morning, after a cup of coffee and one of Tilly’s carrot muffins, so chock-full of carrots, raisins and walnuts it had been known to keep one sated until dinner.

  Lately when Travis left, the house felt too big and empty, the way it had after I lost my mother and grandmother. The cats helped with their sweet silly antics, poking their heads out of holes in the cat trees or stuffing themselves into the tiniest spaces. But Sashkatu seemed to understand exactly how lonely I was feeling. That morning instead of heading for one of his favorite napping spots, he stayed by my side, curling up in one of the bathroom sinks while I showered, put on makeup and combed my hair. He followed me into the bedroom and made a nest of my quilt as I decided what to wear.

  I chose the red sundress, then had to rummage through my closet for five minutes to find my red and white sandals. One day I really had to get organized. I glanced over at Sashki and was sure he rolled his eyes at me. When I was finally ready, we walked side by side to Abracadabra. He climbed the stairs to his tufted window seat and was asleep before I opened the door for business.

  Weekday mornings without tours were generally quiet in my shop. I used the time to pay bills, order supplies, and dust the merchandise—a never ending chore. I could hear Tilly and Merlin arguing next door in Tea and Empathy, their voices punctuated here and there by Froliquet’s whistles of disapproval—what passed for normal in my life.

  Lolly stopped by to say hello and pick up a jar of her favorite facial cream. “I gave myself permission to open an hour later today,” she said settling herself in the customer chair. “I’ve been in the backroom making candy since six. I figure I deserve a little rest. Most folks don’t think about buying chocolate this early in the day anyway.” She asked after my family, and told me how her growing brood was doing. “My grandkids sure keep me on my toes,” she said.

  “If you ask me, they keep you young.” Lolly looked the same as she had when I was growing up. The same plump pink cheeks and twinkling eyes.

  She laughed. “I simply don’t have time to grow old. Speaking of not acting old, the other day I saw Merlin running after a marmot.”

  “Froliquet escaped again.”

  “This one looked smaller than Froliquet.” Lolly was one of the few people who’d met the wizard’s familiar, although she thought it was just a pet. “Does he have two now?”

  “No, no that was Froliquet you saw.” I hated lying to her, but since Merlin had sent the second one back from wherever it had come, I had no choice. “I think only marmot mothers can tell the creatures apart.”

  “I really must have my eyes checked anyway,” she said. “One moment it looked like a marmot and the next it looked like a cat.” Just what I’d been afraid of. I could only hope that anyone else who’d been privy to Merlin’s little trick, also blamed it on their vision.

  “Thank goodness it wasn’t a cat,” I said. “Isenbale won’t put up with other cats, and I already have so many in my house I expect the town to declare it a shelter any day now.”

  “When I have all the grands visiting my tiny place at the same time, I feel like the little old lady who lived in a shoe!” Lolly laughed so hard, she cackled.

  We talked a while longer, before she heaved herself out of the chair. “You must come by and taste my new chocolate coconut fudge!” she said on her way out. “It should be ready later today.” I promised I would.

  Lolly wasn’t gone two minutes, when the bells over the door chimed again. I thought she might have forgotten something, but I looked up to find Courtney framed in the doorway. She had a tentative smile, the kind you might have if you were visiting a new dentist for the first time. Although you needed their help, you weren’t especially happy to be there.

  Courtney seemed to be stuck at the threshold, so I went over and took her arm in mine. “Hi
, come on in. How is everything?” Since the car bomb, I had worried about her family.

  “We’re okay for now,” she said. “Tony thinks I’m here visiting my mom. I don’t like to lie to him, but I needed to talk to you alone.”

  “Please sit,” I said, indicating the chair Lolly had recently vacated. I hiked myself back onto the counter. I’d been spending so much time up there lately, I wouldn’t have been surprised to find an imprint of my butt in the wood.

  “I’m not the kind of wife who goes behind her husband’s back, but my family’s safety is at stake.” Tears filled Courtney’s eyes. “My kids’ lives.” Her last word was choked off. She took a few shaky breaths. “I’ve been talking to some of the alums who’ve seen Scott’s ghost, but until now we’ve been spared that nightmare. Not anymore. We’ve seen him at night and during the day. It’s scary as hell, but we’ve been putting on a brave face for the kids. Thank goodness he looks like a regular person, not like their idea of a ghost. But regular people don’t wander around your property at all hours and put their faces right up against the windows. The kids are so little, they shouldn’t have to deal with stuff like this.”

  Whoever was after Tony was getting frustrated and attacking his family on a psychological level, while they plotted their next physical assault on him.

  “Can I get you water or anything?” I asked. She shook her head. “Give me a second, I don’t want anyone interrupting us.” I jumped down, found the I’ll be back clock behind the counter and put it in the window indicating I’d open at noon. Probably a lot more time than we needed, but I could always open sooner. I plucked the tissue box off my desk and handed it to her, before resuming my perch.

  She thanked me and took a tissue to dab at the corners of her eyes. “That’s not even the main reason I came here. Tony hasn’t been completely honest with the police or with you and Travis,” she said, a hitch in her voice. “When he told you about the night at the lake, he made it sound like all the guys were egging each other on to keep drinking. But he admitted the truth to me years ago. It was his idea, a game to see who could handle their liquor well enough to pass one of those dangerous fraternity initiations. He convinced the other guys they had to build up their tolerance to alcohol or they wouldn’t stand a chance of getting into any decent fraternity. He blames himself for Scott’s death and he’s lived with the guilt of it all these years. He told me Scott didn’t want to keep playing, but he goaded him into it.” She broke down, sobbing.