This Magick Marmot

by Sharon Pape

  “Well you did say she wasn’t looking herself,” Tilly remarked after I told her about my peculiar visit with Lillian. “Maybe she’s fighting a bug. I’ll bake her favorite lemon bars and bring them over with a bottle of Bronwen’s botanical antiviral medicine.” Some people swear by chicken soup for what ails you. Tilly claims that what comes out of her oven works better, especially when coupled with Bronwen’s healing spell.

  We chatted until we heard the bells in my shop announce someone’s arrival and I was off and running. There was barely a lull in the foot traffic all afternoon. Good for my bottom line, but it was evening before I could call Travis and tell him about my visit with Lillian. “So now we know that Scott was most likely born in New Jersey, but Lillian rushed me off before I could ask her if he was adopted. So…given all your many contacts in high and low places, is there anyone who can find out for us?”

  “Let me see what I can do.”

  The phone rang a half hour later, too soon for Travis to be getting back to me. The Caller ID told me Courtney was on the line. “Hi, I’m sorry to be calling at dinner time,” she said.

  “No problem,” I assured her, with a yogurt container in hand. “Around here dinner is hardly a formal affair.”

  “I’m in Atlanta with the kids, like I told you.” Her tone was grim. “I just got off the phone with Tony. He says he’s tired of waiting for other people to fix things. He’s got his guns out and he’s waiting for the Scott-ghost to make another appearance. When I asked him what good it would do to shoot a ghost, he said he had to do something so it would be safe for us to come home. I think it’s all starting to affect his mind.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t have left him alone with his demons. But how can I even think of bringing the kids home if he’s running around the house with loaded weapons?” Her voice broke. “Kailyn, I’m sorry to lay this in your lap, but I don’t know where else to turn. If I call the cops, they might haul him off to a psych unit. Could you possibly drive up and talk to him?”

  “I’m out the door,” I said grabbing my purse and keys.

  Chapter 34

  I called Tony on my way up there, so he wouldn’t mistake me for a ghost or other enemy when I walked from my car to the front door and rang the bell. He told me not to come. “I guess Courtney called you,” he said. “You’re wasting your time. I’m tired of being a target for ghosts or killers.”

  “You know you can’t re-kill a ghost or scare away a ghost by shooting at it. On the other hand, if it turns out to be a person masquerading as Scott and you injure or kill him, you could wind up in prison for the rest of your life. Your kids would grow up without you. Please tell me how that fixes anything?”

  “I have to stop being a victim and turn the tables on this whole thing.”

  “The ghost isn’t even your biggest problem,” I said. “Someone is out to kill you, remember?”

  “What if they’re one and the same, huh?” His tone was petulant.

  “For what it’s worth, I don’t think they are.”

  “Yeah? What makes your theory any better than mine?”

  “The night Genna was killed, the Scott-ghost was sighted too far away for him to be in both places at the same time. And with the exception of possibly causing heart attacks, ghosts can’t actually kill people.”

  “In your theory.”

  It was becoming increasingly clear that Tony was past being reasoned with. I had to get the guns away from him. I told him to expect me and hung up. I dialed Travis, but stopped before it connected. He was anchoring the evening news. Besides, the more people who descended on Tony’s house, the higher the odds someone would get hurt. I had centuries of magickal ability on my side. I could handle whatever Tony threw at me.

  What I hadn’t counted on was the rush hour traffic or the two fender benders that closed down lanes of the highway. I considered pulling off and leaving the car in a parking lot, while I teleported to somewhere near Tony’s house. I scuttled the idea a moment later. What if I popped out of the ether in front of people? That was sure to make the headlines. I couldn’t chance it.

  By the time I arrived at his house, it was a small miracle I hadn’t gnashed my teeth down to stubs. I parked at the curb and walked up the driveway, giving Tony’s new car a wide berth. Killers often stood by their favorite methods.

  Before I could ring the bell, I heard a scream, followed by shouting inside. The door was locked. I glanced around me. A woman was walking a little dog on the far side of the cul-du-sac while talking on her phone. Someone could cut the leash and steal the dog without her noticing. Satisfied that no one was watching, I opened the lock with what I’d come to think of as my lockpick spell. I left the door ajar, worried the sound of the lock engaging might give me away. I stood in the foyer long enough to pinpoint the location of the two voices. They were in the family room down the hall, where Travis and I had recently visited with Tony and Courtney.

  “Man, you’ve got to do something or I’ll bleed to death,” a voice pleaded. “If that happens, you’ll be facing murder charges. Did you think about that?”

  “Or I could finish the job right now and get rid of the evidence,” Tony snapped.

  I didn’t wait to hear more. I ran down the hallway, stopping short at the entrance to the family room. In spite of what I’d heard, I was stunned by the tableau in front of me. Tony was sitting in his chair, his gun pointed at a man who was crumpled on the ground, bleeding from a wound in his thigh. It wasn’t an arterial hit, or the blood would have been pumping out of him with every beat of his heart, but he could still bleed out if the wound wasn’t stitched up. It would just take a little longer.

  Tony saw me before I could collect my thoughts enough to speak. “I told you not to come here. Don’t take another step.” His tone was cold and menacing. “I’ve got things under control. You’ll only make matters worse by butting in.”

  The man on the floor dragged himself around to see who had arrived. His face was pale and bathed in sweat, each movement causing him to grimace in pain.

  “Scott?” was all I could manage. If I were a fainter, I would have collapsed right then and there. Even though I was working on the possibility Scott was adopted and had a twin he didn’t know about, seeing proof of it was unsteadying.

  Tony snickered. “Let me introduce you. This is Brett Kosik. Take a real good look, Kailyn. It’s been ten years since you last saw Scott, so the subtle differences between them may not be as obvious. It took me a minute too.”

  The longer I stared at the man on the floor, the better I could accept that he wasn’t Scott. His face was fuller than Scott’s and he was missing the crescent scar Scott had over his left eye from a playground accident. Why had Lillian made a point of not letting anyone, including Scott, know he was adopted?

  “Kailyn?” Brett said, “Please help me—I need to get to a hospital.” His words kicked me out of my stupor. “Tony, give me your belt!” He started to refuse. “Now!” I shouted, shutting him down. He stood up, dropping the gun onto the chair behind him, and grudgingly tugged the belt out of its loops. As soon as he handed it to me, he retrieved the gun. I knelt beside Brett and cinched the belt above the wound.

  “Thank you,” he whispered.

  “You need to take a look at his phone,” Tony grunted. “It’s a real eye opener.” He pulled the phone out of his shirt pocket and tossed it to me.

  I scrolled through Brett’s texts and calls. There were some to Ashley and Charlie, but the most by far were between him and Lillian.

  “Was Lillian aware Scott had a twin brother?” I asked Brett.

  “No and I didn’t know about Scott either, until he died and I saw his picture in the paper. That’s when I found Lillian and introduced myself to her.” The phone chimed with a new text. I clicked on it. “It’s from Lillian. It says, ‘He’s here.’ Do you know what that means?”

  Brett looked s
tricken. “She needs help.” His skin was turning ashen and he was struggling to keep his eyes open.

  “I have to know what’s going on,” I said.

  “Too long to explain.” He was breathless.

  I pulled my phone out of my purse. “I’ll get the police over there ASAP.” Brett grabbed my arm. “No, no police. I was supposed to be there.” Tears choked off his voice.

  “Well maybe you shouldn’t have been here trying to scare the hell out of me and my family!” Tony exploded.

  Without saying a word, I hit 911. When the dispatcher answered, I gave her Tony’s address. Tony leaped out of his chair. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  I ignored him. “We need an ambulance for a gunshot victim ASAP. Possible hostage situation.” He ripped the phone from my hand, but it was done. “I’m saving you from doing any more damage to yourself and your family.” I held out my hand. “Give me the phone.”

  “Maybe I should have put a bullet in you too,” he said, but without any heart. The impotent rage that had pushed him to shoot Scott’s twin was fading away.

  “Hang in there, Brett. The ambulance is on its way. I’m going to help Lillian.” I had no idea what I’d be walking into or what kind of help she might need, but I would try to honor his request not to involve the police.

  Chapter 35

  I was almost back to New Camel when Travis called. He’d noticed my missed call after he went off the air. I told him what happened at the Russo home, keeping my voice even and reasonable—just another day in the life of a private investigator. If I’d let him hear the way I really felt, he might have carried me off to the tower next door to Rapunzel’s.

  “You just called 911 and walked out?” he sputtered, when I got to the end of my tale. “Tony could have put a bullet in you, shot you dead for doing that. He’s not thinking rationally, and now I have my doubts about you. Who catches a man in a state of temporary insanity and decides to see how far he can be pushed?”

  “I just knew he wouldn’t hurt me,” I said with no supporting evidence.

  “I’d feel better if those words came from Tilly, but you’re not psychic. You’ve told me that yourself.”

  “Can we finish this discussion later?” I asked. “I need to focus on Lillian now. She’s in danger from this man, whoever he is. Brett was supposed to be there with her when he arrived, but he’s busy bleeding to death in Tony’s house. How can I leave her to deal with…whatever this is on her own?”

  “You should have called 911 for her too. In fact you need to do it right now,” Travis said in a tone that brooked no argument.

  “I can’t. Brett begged me not to involve the police for Lillian’s sake.” I realized how threadbare that argument sounded. Here I was, racing full tilt toward an unknown danger, on the say-so of a man who’d been masquerading as his dead twin to terrify people. “Okay I realize how crazy that sounds. Forget the request came from Brett. This is about Lillian. It doesn’t matter that she’s a suspect. In my eyes, she’s innocent until proven guilty. She’s been a friend of my family for decades, but even if I barely knew her, I would help her for Scott’s sake.”

  Travis didn’t have an immediate comeback. “I get it. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  “No, I can handle this myself,” I said with more bravado than I felt. “You didn’t know Scott. This isn’t your problem.”

  “We’re partners—for better or worse, you’re stuck with me.”

  * * * *

  I called Lillian’s number when I was a few blocks away. It rang and rang before going to voice mail. I hung up and slowed to a crawl, stopping two houses away from hers. Her car was in the driveway. An old black pickup was parked at the curb. Layers of weather and dirt had dulled its finish. The driver’s side mirror was taped in place. It had a Delaware license plate that I committed to memory. I made my way around the garage side of the house where there were no windows. When I reached the back of the house, near the kitchen window, I paused to listen for voices. There appeared to be two, although I couldn’t make out their words. Lillian and her guest were probably in the living room. Given Brett’s distress over this meeting, I had to assume the man was not there to take Lillian out on a date. And he probably had a weapon.

  I took it as a good sign that there was no shouting or screaming as there had been at Tony’s house. On the drive there, I considered my options. I didn’t have many. I could go around to the front door and ring the bell as an innocent neighbor who wanted to borrow a cup of sugar. Or I could use the lockpick spell to gain entry, but if they were in the living room the man might hear the lock disengage and greet me with a bullet. Or I could teleport into the living room and hope that the element of surprise gave me a brief advantage, maybe enough time to disarm the visitor. Of course arriving by teleportation meant two people would see me appear out of thin air. Stories like that are bound to spread like wildfire. Instead I went with a variation on the theme. I focused my mind on my landing site and repeated the spell three times:

  From here and now, to there and then,

  Attract not change, nor harm allow.

  Safe passage guarantee to souls

  As well as lesser mindless things.

  When I opened my eyes, I was standing in the middle of Scott’s old room. It seemed an appropriate way to enter the house where he’d grown up. It looked the same as it had when he was alive. Lillian hadn’t changed a thing. A wave of nostalgia brought tears to my eyes. I wiped them away. A lot of good I was doing Lillian, crying up in her son’s room, while she was in trouble in the living room.

  I made my way to the staircase, wincing each time the hardwood creaked under my weight. I waited there for a minute, listening to what the two of them were saying.

  “You are not getting another penny from me until you get it done.” Lillian sounded like she was in control of the situation, but her voice was higher pitched than normal. She was putting on a good act, but she was afraid of him.

  As soon as I heard him speak, I recognized the voice. It was deep and coarse, not a young man’s voice, but that of a man in middle age, used up and with few prospects—a dangerous man who’d never grown a conscience. It brought to mind predators waiting for their prey in dark alleys, or in the backseats of cars, or out in the open on a bright sunny day where you’d least expect them.

  “I need the rest if you want me to finish. It ain’t my fault it’s taking so long.”

  “Then whose fault is it?” Lillian demanded. “You agreed to do the job for the amount we discussed. You were quick enough to take the down payment. You don’t get the rest until you complete the work.”

  “Or what? You gonna sue me? You gonna call the Better Business Bureau and tell on me?” He made a sound that was somewhere between a guttural laugh and a smoker’s cough. “It’s real simple, Lillian, I need to eat. I don’t eat, I can’t work. Hand over the rest of the money.”

  “Hold on, Norman. How do I know you won’t take the money and run? I’ll have no recourse.”

  “I guess you’ll just have to trust me. It’s not like we’re talking about a new roof for your house. There’s risk on both sides of this deal.”

  “Well I don’t keep that kind of money here. I need some time.”

  “What kind of time we talking?”

  “A week, maybe two, and while I’m getting it together, you can tie up that loose end on your side.” Lillian was still bargaining, stalling, maybe in the hope that Brett would ride in like the eleventh hour cavalry. She didn’t know that couldn’t happen. I was her only cavalry and I was struggling to accept this new version of her, even though I’d known it was a possibility.

  “You trying to beat me at my own game?” Norman snapped. “Here’s a free tip. Nobody gets to pull the wool over my eyes, let alone an old biddy. You’ve used up my patience.”

  I heard Lillian’s sharp intake of air
. I had to assume he’d pulled a weapon. “That’s not necessary,” she said, her voice quavering. I sneaked a quick peek around the wall at the top of the stairs where I was hiding. Norman had his back to me, a pistol aimed squarely at Lillian. If she hadn’t been so transfixed by the gun, she might have seen me. I was thankful she didn’t. Norman would have seen her eyes shift and if he had any experience in his chosen profession, he would have followed her gaze up to me.

  I crept to the top step and slowly descended. When I was close to the bottom, I focused my energy on the gun. I had to get it away from him, but using magick to pull it straight to me would be like saying, Hey, look what I can do! I settled for a telekinetic spell that jerked it out of his grasp and sent it spinning away to a neutral corner beneath the living room window.

  “What the hell,” Norman grunted, wasting precious seconds trying to process what had happened, while I leapt off the stairs and dove for the gun. I was on my feet, gun in hand before he could react. “You!” he said when he got a good look at me. “You got a death wish or something?” He was talking like he was still the one with the weapon.

  Lillian had watched the action play out with her mouth hanging open. I took up a position between the two of them. Norman’s eyes narrowed at me. “How did you do that…that trick with the gun?”

  “I was about to ask you the same thing,” I said. We stood there for a minute regarding each other suspiciously. “I know,” I said. “Your hand was sweaty, Norm, and you were holding the gun so tightly, it flipped right out of your grasp like a fish.” Norm didn’t look convinced, but at least he wasn’t blaming me anymore.

  “You know,” he said, coming toward me with a slow grin, “I don’t think you have the guts to shoot me. So why don’t you just hand over the gun right now, before you get hurt?” The doorbell stopped him in his tracks.

  Travis! I’d told him not to come, but I was relieved he hadn’t listened to me. “Lillian,” I said, “would you please answer the door. I want to keep an eye on Norm here.”