Magickal Mystery Lore

by Sharon Pape

  I sank into the armchair facing the blank screen of the TV and kicked off my heels. “Maybe we should contact Liam first. That way he can broach the idea of working with us to his parents.”

  “I like that. And depending on how close he was to his sister, he might even know things about her that the parents never got wind of.”

  “There’s one problem,” I said. “The funeral is tomorrow and we’re leaving.”

  “We’ll call Liam Monday. If he and his parents are amenable, we’ll come back up here another day. It’ll be worth the trip for what we stand to learn.” We spent some time discussing the remarks we’d overheard at the funeral home, and concluded that even if the attendees knew Ava played fast and loose with morality, they chose not to denigrate her at her wake, with the exception of mini-Beverly.

  Chapter 8

  Travis dropped me off at home in the early afternoon and headed back to the Glen to anchor the evening news. All the cats but Sashkatu came to greet me. He was lying on the top ridge of the living room couch, regarding me with an expression that said, Well look who’s here.

  I walked up to him. “Would your Highness like to accompany me to the shop?” He seemed to be deliberating. I gave him a minute before adding, “The offer expires in fifteen seconds. If you want to go with me, you’d better hustle your bustle.” He got to his feet, stretched, yawned, and took his sweet time descending the couch to his personal steps that he took to the floor. He could out-diva the best of them.

  When we reached the shop, I went through the connecting door to Tea and Empathy to thank my aunt for helping out with the cats. Her shop was locked and dark. She rarely took off on the weekend. I called and found her at home. Her hello was rattled.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “We’re fine,” she said sounding anything but fine. “Of course I’d be a lot finer if our wizard friend would lay off the spells.” I heard Merlin protesting in the background that he didn’t know it was a spell.

  “It sounds like you could use some help—I’ll be right over.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Tilly said. “I’ve got everything under control.” A loud crash punctuated her words. “On a related matter, I may have to kill Merlin.”

  “I’m coming.”

  “Hold it,” she said firmly, “You need to open your shop for at least part of the day. I’ve made up my mind. This can wait until you close.” But what if I couldn’t wait until I closed? What new trouble had Merlin wrought? Should I ignore my aunt’s wishes and run over there? Lately she got her back up if she thought I was trying to baby her. Pride was a big deal in my family. I decided I’d do my best to wait.

  As it happened, I didn’t have long to dwell on those matters. Customers kept me hopping for the next three hours. It was a good thing I’d left a sign on the shop’s door and a message on the phone that I was away until Saturday afternoon. Most of the people who came in were locals, but there was a smattering of day trippers who were out for a ride and needed a destination.

  Every last person who entered my shop wanted to know why Lolly’s place was shuttered and strung with police tape. And they wanted to know when she would reopen. Many a sweet tooth left disappointed.

  I closed my shop at four thirty, a compromise between Tilly’s edict and my need to know what was going on at her house. I carried the sleepy Sashkatu home and fed the gang, before calling to let her know I was on my way.

  She opened her door for me, her curly red hair limp and her face shiny with perspiration. “Brace yourself,” she warned me as I stepped into the foyer. Brace myself? Was I about to see something that horrific? A moment later her meaning became clear. I was thrown back against the wall by an invisible force that hit my chest with such momentum that it knocked the air out of my lungs. My face was slathered in sticky, foaming moisture. My hands flew out to fend off my attacker and my fingers sank into…fur?

  Merlin ran into the foyer yelling, “Off beast—off I say.” It took Merlin and Tilly pulling and me pushing to finally remove my assailant.

  “What is that?” I was bent over, trying to catch my breath.

  “A common mongrel,” Merlin said. “A cur, a mutt—take your pick.”

  “A very large one,” Tilly added. “It’s best if we sit down. That way we won’t have as far to fall if he launches himself at us.” She and I took the couch in the family room and Merlin settled into an armchair across from us. They both seemed to be coping better than I was, but then they’d had more time to adjust to the situation. I kept scanning the room for the invisible dog, which made no sense and yet I couldn’t help myself.

  Tilly understood what I was doing. “If he’s running at you, you can feel the air he displaces a few seconds before he’s on you. It helps to remember that he’s not vicious, just big and exuberant.” I had no problem with big exuberant dogs. I loved dogs of all sizes, shaggy and short-haired, enthusiastic and reserved. In fact, before Sashkatu and I bonded, I’d been summoning a dog to be my familiar. It was that very spell that had plucked Merlin from his time and dropped him into my storeroom, highlighting the difficulty we Wildes were having with our magick.

  I looked from Tilly to Merlin. “I need some answers, like why is he here? And why is he invisible?”

  “Merlin was deep into reading the family scrolls again,” Tilly said. “He’s determined to figure out what’s wreaking havoc with our magick. It seemed like a safe enough activity for him to pursue, but I was wrong. Really wrong. He was reading a paragraph aloud, trying to make sense of its meaning, when this mountain of a dog appeared.”

  “What Tilly dear is trying to say is that I didn’t realize I was reading a spell. And that spell inadvertently summoned a dog. A huge dog. An enormous dog. A—”

  “Yes,” I interrupted, “that much I’m clear on. But why is he invisible?”

  “I was trying to send the beast back from whence he came, but instead I somehow rendered him invisible.”

  “Have you tried the spell to reverse spells?” I asked.

  Tilly sighed. “It seems you can’t reverse spells when they’re layered as in this case,”

  “So we have to make him visible before we can reverse the spell that brought him here?”

  “Yes,” they said in unison. I felt a sudden rush of air, as if a high-powered fan was blowing in my direction. I scooted back against the couch pillows to brace for the attack. A second later he was on me. Slobbery tongue, nails that needed clipping, fur up my nose and in my mouth. By the time he moved on to Tilly, I felt like I’d been tarred and feathered. I told myself things could be worse. He could have been ferocious, hungry for human flesh.

  Isenbale, my aunt’s Maine Coon, yowled. I’d forgotten about him in the confusion. I followed the sound and spotted him on the top shelf of the built-ins that framed the fireplace. Tilly had set a bowl of water up there for him, and he appeared none the worse for his unhappy circumstances.

  “My poor baby,” Tilly lamented.

  “What of me?” Merlin said, disgruntled. “Am I not to be afforded sympathy? I had to carry him to the litter box—twice.”

  “You’re the only one tall enough to keep him out of the dog’s reach,” she said.

  “Do either of you remember the spell that made him invisible?” I asked.

  “I do,” Merlin said. “Send—” Tilly and I yelled for him to stop.

  “Please write it down for me,” I said more calmly. “Do not say it aloud.”

  “Ah yes, I see your point.” He reached for the pad and pen on the table next to his chair, scribbled the few lines, and handed it to me. I read it silently.

  Send this dog back where he’s from.

  Spare no time; do not delay.

  Keep him safe, let no harm come.

  Take him from our sight today.

  That was it—the last line of the spell was the culprit. Or rather Merli
n was for not properly vetting the words before casting it. My mother and grandmother had drummed into me how important it was not to use words that could mean more than one thing. When I told Tilly that I’d discovered the problem, she was thrilled. She wanted to go bake something for a celebration. I pointed out it would be easier to accomplish if she waited until the dog was no longer there to trample her. Merlin was understandably less thrilled. He didn’t like being told that he created the problem.

  Now I just had to devise a spell to make the dog visible again. After that we should be able to send him back with the reversal spell. It took me more time than I expected and it wasn’t the most elegant of spells. In my defense, it was hard to be creative when I had to keep defending myself from the invisible beast. I repeated the words three times.

  There’s a dog within this house

  That nobody can see.

  Make him visible again,

  And safe we all will be.

  I didn’t realize I was holding my breath, until it exploded from my lungs the moment the dog appeared before me. Tilly and Merlin had not been exaggerating. He was one of the largest dogs I’d ever seen. He had long white fur that would have benefitted from a bath. His black eyes, in all that whiteness, reminded me of a snowman. I told him it was great to see him, while fending off another, slobbery attack.

  I was about to reverse the spell that had brought him there, when Tilly jumped up and insisted on saying a proper goodbye by planting a kiss on his long snout. Merlin said a more formal farewell and apologized for having dognapped him in the first place with the ancient incantation.

  I recited the reversal spell ten times, and as the last word cleared my mouth, he disappeared. None of us dared move until we were positive he’d left and wasn’t merely invisible again. Then Merlin rescued Isenbale from the shelf. Tilly went off to the kitchen to bake away her stress, and Merlin followed her, throwing out suggestions. I went home to collapse on the couch with a pint of Rum Raisin ice cream.

  Chapter 9

  Travis and I had to interview Lolly’s daughter, Danielle. There were questions she alone could answer. For starters, did she have an alibi for the time of Ava’s death? I didn’t intend to ask for Lolly’s permission to speak to her, but I did want to give my friend a heads up. Travis advised against it. We weren’t with the police and we had no official standing as private investigators. If Lolly talked her daughter into not cooperating with us, we’d be at a great disadvantage in trying to solve the case. Although telling Lolly felt like the right thing to do, I wasn’t exactly looking forward to the phone call. She’d told me about her son-in-law’s affair with Ava in confidence, which made me feel a bit like a traitor. If I hadn’t known about it, Danielle wouldn’t even be on our list of suspects. On the other hand, although Duggan might not know about the affair yet, it was only a matter of time before he stumbled over it in his investigation. He wouldn’t have any qualms about questioning Dani. A week ago, if anyone had asked if I would ever dread talking to Lolly, I would have laughed at them. In the end, I decided to speak to her in person.

  I considered a low-key place like The Jerk, but there would be too many potential eavesdroppers, too many inquiring minds. I decided to invite Lolly over for lunch instead. When I ran it by my aunt, she suggested we use her shop on a day when she didn’t have any readings scheduled. That way Lolly and I could have lunch at one of her lovely tea tables in the solitude of Tea and Empathy. Our own private restaurant. Tilly insisted on making us a proper tea. She’d even stay and serve it. Merlin would be left at home.

  Lolly seemed happy enough to accept my invitation, but I detected a slight wariness in her tone that I’d never heard before. When life turns you inside out and upside down, I guess it shakes all the certainties out of you like so much loose change. Accepting anything at face value becomes a luxury you can no longer afford. My heart sank. I was about to prove her misgivings right.

  The next day at one o’clock I closed my shop for lunch and went next door to wait for Lolly. She came bearing a slab of rocky road fudge she’d made with one of her granddaughters. Tilly came out of the kitchen, launching a hug fest. I’d known Lolly’s hugs all my life. These were different, stiffer, as if she were holding back. As if her wariness formed an invisible barrier between us that never existed before. Tilly and I shared a brief look that told me she’d felt it too.

  Lolly was extravagant in her praise of the beautiful table my aunt had set for us. She’d used the fine china handed down from our ancestors, who’d crossed the ocean in the seventeenth century to start a new life in the colonies. Tilly brought out her most prized three-tiered serving dish for the tea and set it in the middle of the table. The large bottom tier held the dainty quartered sandwiches, the second held the scones with raspberry jam and clotted cream, my personal favorite. On the third tier were the mini pastries I was usually too stuffed to eat.

  Lolly and Tilly took their seats while I fetched the teapot and filled our cups with the special peppermint blend my aunt had chosen for its calming and mood elevating properties. The two friends were already chatting about Lolly’s grandkids when I joined them. She told us about their latest antics while we ate sandwiches of cucumber with Swiss cheese, egg salad, and cream cheese on moist date nut bread. We laughed at the story of Faye, the precocious two-year-old who begged her mother for glasses so she’d be able to read.

  By the time we reached the scones, the conversation was flagging. There was no way to keep it upbeat when there was a big old elephant in the room waiting to be addressed. I asked her how things were going.

  “Not great,” she said. “Elliot moved out, the kids are crushed, and Dani has the best motive around for killing Ava. She doesn’t know that I have the next best motive. I never told her about the fight I had with that bit—horrible woman.”

  “Actually, I want to talk to you about the case,” I said, forcing myself to maintain eye contact when my impulse was to look anywhere else.

  She put down the scone she’d taken. “Okay… should I be worried?” She looked from me to my aunt.

  “No, of course not,” Tilly said a bit too freely “We’re on your side. What could you possibly have to worry about?” I knew she meant well, but she might as well have said, we’ll make sure someone else is the killer. What’s the point of practicing magick if you can’t help out a friend?

  “I’m sure you realize that if Travis and I are going to investigate the case properly, we’d be remiss if we didn’t interview Danielle. I just wanted to give you a heads up about it. We intend to speak to Ava’s parents and to her brother in the next few days as well.”

  “I understand,” Lolly said stiffly. “I guess I was hoping you knew my Dani well enough to know she couldn’t have killed Ava.”

  “Lolly,” I said, “I honestly don’t believe she killed Ava.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. I didn’t think any child of Lolly’s could commit murder. Yet how many times had people said the same thing about a relative or a next-door neighbor, only to discover that in a moment of extreme anger or pain the least likely people can do the most unthinkable things? “The main reason we want to speak to Dani is to find out if she knows something or heard something that can point the investigation in the right direction.” Great, I’d blundered into the same trap as my aunt—the need to make Lolly feel better.

  * * * *

  Travis called me after the evening newscast. I was still on the couch, having watched him anchor the show with the gravitas and authority of an elder statesman. Sometimes I had trouble connecting that man with the charming, witty guy who made my heart dance by walking in the door.

  “Don’t beat yourself up over it,” he said, after I told him about my conversation with Lolly. “You’re a good, kind person who doesn’t like to inflict pain on your friends. That’s an asset in my book. Besides, you’ve proven more than once that you’re not a softy when it comes to the bad guys. So, no harm, no fo
ul.”

  “But I shouldn’t give up my day job, huh?”

  He laughed. “The magick? Not that it would be easy to do, since it’s part of your DNA and all. Not to mention that it saved our collective butts on a number of occasions.”

  “Thanks for the pep talk. I’ll call Dani tomorrow. I have no idea what kind of reception I’ll get. She’s been going through hell.” One of the would-be familiars, a sweet American Shorthair my mother had named Filormeu, climbed into my lap. Sashkatu wasn’t on his throne atop the couch, so she was seizing the chance to cuddle. She curled into a ball, purring in deep contentment as I stroked her back.

  “We’ll have to coordinate the appointments we make,” Travis said. “I spoke to Ava’s brother Liam today.”

  “How was he?”

  “About how you might expect—he can’t believe she’s gone. He feels guilty because he wasn’t able to protect her like he did when they were kids. Logic doesn’t hold any sway. It’s the kind of useless guilt we all carry around in one form or another.” I knew he was talking about himself and his brother as much as he was Liam and Ava. “He remembered us from the wake. When I explained that we were investigating his sister’s death, he seemed reluctant to meet with us. I should point out that he’d spent the morning with the inimitable detective Duggan, and as we know, that can sour anyone on investigators for life. He asked what more we could bring to the table. I told him we had a much better record of closing cases. That piqued his interest.”

  “Then he’s willing to meet with us?”

  “Willing to give us a chance is probably more accurate.”

  “What about his parents? If we’re driving back up there, we need to speak to them too. It’s not exactly around the corner.”

  “Yes ma’am!” Travis said in a clipped, military tone. “Working on it, ma’am!”