Magickal Mystery Lore

by Sharon Pape

  “I think it’s much more likely that he’s sleepwalking again. Go make your healing tea and a little something to go with it. When we find him, I’m sure he’ll be hungry.”

  If we were an ordinary family, Tilly would have installed a super-duper lock after Merlin’s first sleepwalking episode. But we weren’t ordinary. Unlocking spells were easy to cast. Merlin could do it in his sleep.

  I grabbed my purse, locked the house and jumped into my car. I was backing out of the driveway when it occurred to me that I had no idea where to go. When I couldn’t come up with a reasonable plan of action, I started driving anyway. Doing something was better than doing nothing. I drove for miles, making bigger and bigger circles and becoming more distraught with the passing of each minute. I didn’t know where else to look. I pulled into Tilly’s driveway behind her red mustang. I was walking to the front door, when a horn honked loud and long. It was so unexpected in the stillness of the night that I jumped and my heart slammed into my rib cage, leaving me breathless.

  “Get out of the way or I’ll run you down,” a disembodied voice shouted. I would have known that voice anywhere. “Are you deaf?” Merlin screeched from the driver’s seat of the Mustang. Tilly appeared in her doorway.

  “Was that you honking?” she called to me.

  “No, Aunt Tilly, it was a crazy old wizard, who may not get to be much older.”

  Chapter 32

  “He spends entirely too much time deciphering those scrolls,” Tilly said. She’d shuffled into my shop in her worn-out slippers to discuss Merlin’s sleepwalking problem. I was busy dusting in the fifteen minutes before I opened. Searching for Merlin half the night had left me so exhausted, I was certain if I sat down I’d fall asleep. “They’re overstimulating his mind,” Tilly continued. “I never thought I’d say this, but I wish he’d go back to watching westerns and ordering stuff online.”

  I finished cleaning the shelf with the cellulite eraser, one of my biggest sellers, and started on the shelf above it. “Look at it this way. If he learns how to fix the problems with our magick, he’ll stop sleepwalking and we’ll be back to our old selves again—a win-win.”

  “I suppose,” she said grudgingly.

  “If you want to stop him from sleepwalking you can always give him one of Bronwen’s sleeping pills.”

  “No no no—they’re riddled with side effects. I trashed them as soon as Bronwen passed on. When she concocted them, I think she was getting a little dotty.”

  “I wouldn’t say things like that out loud if I were you. You never know who might drop in and hear you.”

  “Oops.” Tilly clamped her hands over her mouth.

  A thought struck me. “Since Merlin sleepwalked into your car last night, maybe his subconscious is pushing him to go find what’s been affecting the ley lines.”

  “Interesting thought. If we spend the day trying to find the cause, maybe his subconscious will let him sleep at night. It’s worth a try.” She perked up and straightened her shoulders with newfound purpose. “If you need me, I’ll be chauffeuring his majesty around.”

  It was a slow business day, the dusting was done, and when I sat down in my padded desk chair, I was sound asleep in seconds. I awoke three hours later with a stiff neck, feeling a bit disoriented. There were only two customers in the afternoon, so I decided to close an hour early. Even if I missed a sale or two, it would be worth it if I visited Eagle Enterprises and found an emergency contact for Angie.

  Despite my long nap, my one concern was that I might not be recharged enough to conduct a round trip. It wasn’t that long ago I’d teleported to escape my kidnappers. Unfortunately, the only way to find out was to try it. Honoring my promise to Bronwen, I first sent a glass jar from my storeroom into Tilly’s shop. When I went to see how it had fared, I found it sitting on a tea table unscathed—a good sign for a simple inorganic item on a one way ticket, but teleporting a human being was much more complicated, plus I needed a round trip.

  My cautious side said I should probably wait a few days to be sure my energy level had rebounded adequately. My more impulsive side argued that I should quit procrastinating and get on with it. That’s what I did. I reached the necessary power threshold in short order as if the universe had just been waiting for me to commit. I envisioned the cubicle in which I’d spoken to Krista. If anyone had lingered past the end of the workday, I’d be less likely to be spotted in there than in the open areas. I recited the spell three times and with the speed of a thought I was there.

  Experience had shown me that teleporting into a building doesn’t trip the security system. No doors or windows had been breached. Motion detectors and video cameras were a different story. The last time I’d found myself in such a situation, I’d created a spell that took care of the problem. I recited it three times.

  The building was silent, hunkered down for the night. I didn’t bother with Krista’s computer. Personnel information would be on the computers in Human Resources. The building had enough night lighting for me to move about without crashing into furniture or tripping over smaller objects, but I could have used a floor plan. It took me ten minutes to find Human Resources in the maze of cubicles and offices. The door was locked. Another spell in my stockpile took care of that. I’d amassed quite an arsenal of spells since entering the world of murder investigations.

  The computer on the director’s desk was in hibernation mode. I hit random keys and the log on screen popped up asking for a password. Now what? I could try to create a spell to bypass the computer’s security, but even with the best intentions, I’d be dabbling in some murky magick. I was on the verge of giving up when I noticed two filing cabinets tucked into a dimly lit back corner of the room. They’d been relegated to the shadows, an embarrassing reminder that the shiny toys of technology couldn’t always be counted on to perform. And when that happened, it was good to have old-fashioned paper copies waiting in the wings.

  I opened the top drawer of the first cabinet. The folders inside bore peoples’ last names starting with the letter A. It didn’t take me long to find the Ns and Angie Neumann’s folder. Within it were the forms she’d filled out when she was hired, including the emergency contact information for her parents. I whooped a silent cheer and jotted the information in a little notepad in my purse. Mission accomplished.

  Although I could teleport back from anywhere in the building, with my energy levels a concern, the safest option was to use the same pathway by which I’d come. I rounded the last corner on my way back to Krista’s cubicle and ploughed full tilt into a large cart being propelled by a woman in the uniform of a cleaning service. I could tell by the woman’s face that she was startled and afraid she’d injured me.

  I leaned back against the wall to assess the damage. I had a nasty gash on the knee that hit the cart and my abdomen felt bruised. Nothing serious. The woman came rushing over to me, babbling in a language I couldn’t identify. “Shh,” I said, afraid that anyone in the building would hear her. I put my finger to my lips in what I hoped was a universal sign of quiet. In a whisper, I tried to convince her I was all right, but she was practically in tears, gesticulating wildly, no doubt worried about losing her job. I wound up consoling her, patting her shoulder and smiling to convey the fact that all was well, while blood dripped down my leg. We must have stood there a good ten minutes, before she calmed down enough to go back to work.

  I slipped into Krista’s cubicle with a sigh of relief. By then the bleeding had almost stopped. I’d take care of it properly once I was back in my shop. I closed my eyes and tried to regulate my breathing. It took longer than usual, but I finally felt the tension melting away.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” It was a male voice, a very angry male voice. My eyes flew open. The supervisor I’d met on my last visit was standing two feet away, his hands on his hips, glowering at me.

  “Mr. Nash—hi,” I said cheerfully, not
at all like someone who had just been caught trespassing in a company with armed guards and ties to the government. “You must be wondering why I’m here.”

  “You have one minute to convince me not to call security.”

  “Oh dear, I don’t work well under pressure. Perhaps you could give me five minutes? And a quick trip to the bathroom? Bladder issues,” I added with an embarrassed little shrug. Acting like my aunt on a silly day—that’s what my brain came up with to save my hide?

  “You have half a minute left and your bladder will just have to cope. You should have thought about that before you decided to break in here.”

  “Break in? Oh no—I didn’t break in. No, no, no—I would never do that. I walked in when the last workers were leaving.” That was better.

  “Regardless of how you got in, you don’t belong here! What is it you want?” My brain was groping around for a reason that didn’t sound crazy or criminal.

  “Silly me,” I giggled, “I’d better put plugs in my ears or one day my brain will spill right out. I wanted to personally thank you for the lovely flower arrangement and sympathy card.”

  “What are you talking about? I didn’t send you anything.”

  “Then who sent it?” I asked with wide-eyed innocence.

  “How should I know?!” he thundered, clearly out of whatever patience he’d had before I arrived.

  “Oh I get it,” I said with a wink, “you’re not comfortable with gratitude. You don’t want anyone to think of you as a softy. Well your secret kindness is safe with me.” I could practically smell the rage ballooning inside him.

  “I’m going to let you go this time, but if I ever find you anywhere near this building again, I will hand you over to security and file a complaint against you with the police. Do you understand?”

  I nodded without another word. Once you get what you want, shut up before I change my mind. I’d heard Tilly’s husband use those words on more than one occasion. This seemed like an appropriate time to apply the advice.

  Nash escorted me out of the building and pointed me in the direction of the guards at the gate. I waved goodbye and started skipping away. I heard him mutter, “Idiot,” before the door slammed shut behind him.

  Since I wasn’t in view of the guards, I scooted off the paved road and into a thicket of trees, vines and brambles. When I was sufficiently screened from anyone passing by, I set about teleporting home.

  Chapter 33

  My phone rang when Sashkatu and I were walking home from the shop. I wasn’t up to a chatty social call or solving any new problems. Teleporting back and forth to Eagle Enterprises had taken a lot out of me and I needed to take care of the cut in my knee before feeding the hungry horde awaiting dinner. But when Lolly’s number appeared, I couldn’t let the call go to voice mail.

  “I just missed you at the shop,” she said breathing hard, “but I really have to talk to you as soon as possible.” She sounded distraught and didn’t pick up on my weary tone, which was not at all like her. I couldn’t put her off. She was goodness and sweetness and caring—the whole grandmotherly package. And she always smelled like chocolate. All my efforts to solve the murder of Ava Duncan were spurred on by the fact that Lolly was a suspect along with her daughter, Dani. Concern for their wellbeing swept my fatigue away like a magick broom.

  “I’m just getting home. Could you possibly come—”

  “I’ll be there in five—thank you, dear.”

  I left the front door unlocked and went into the powder room to work on my knee. There was a good chance that climbing the stairs would reopen the wound. My mother had always kept emergency supplies in each of the bathrooms for just such an occurrence and I’d carried on the tradition. Even if the stairs hadn’t been a concern for my knee, it surely was for Lolly with her arthritis.

  When the doorbell rang, I called for her to come in. It took her several minutes to make her way down the short hall to the powder room, because six cats insisted on providing a proper welcome even if their owner couldn’t. They rarely appeared for anyone other than family. It was a testament to Lolly that they’d accepted her as one of their own from her very first visit. They were great judges of character and, to the best of my knowledge, had never made a wrong call.

  Lolly found me sitting on the toilet lid bandaging my knee. She was so pale she looked like she’d just come from a Medieval bloodletting. “Talk to me,” I said, putting the botanical lotions and potions back in the kit and stowing it under the sink. “On second thought, wait until we get you into a chair in the kitchen,” I added, afraid she might keel over at any moment. I put my arm around her waist.

  She allowed me to lead her to the kitchen table, where I eased her into a chair. “I’m going to brew you some of Tilly’s restorative tea.” She didn’t say anything. Her reticence scared me even more than her pallor. Lolly was always bubbling over with life.

  The tea seemed to be taking forever. I helped it along with a quick spell. When it was ready, I poured each of us a cup and sat down. “Can I get you something to eat?” I asked, thinking maybe she’d forgotten lunch and her blood sugar had tanked. She shook her head. Rather than pump her for the cause of her distress, I waited until she had time to sip the tea and let her begin when she was ready.

  “Dani made a huge mistake,” she said. I could tell she was trying to speak calmly, “and I have no idea how to help her.” Tears welled up in her eyes. I put my hand over hers where it rested on the table.

  “Tell me what she did. I’m sure it’s not as bad as it seems.” I shouldn’t have said that without knowing anything, but I wanted to give her hope. Whenever I empathized too much with someone’s misery, Bronwen would chastise me, saying “false hope just postpones the inevitable. You can’t make the sun shine for someone, no matter how much they seem to need it.” Her words were etched into my brain, yet they couldn’t always stop me.

  Lolly took a moment to ready herself the way you would before walking into the doctor’s office for the results of a biopsy. “She admitted to me that she did confront Ava.” An oh no popped into my mouth, but I managed to swallow it. “She found out her address and went to her apartment in the Glen. Thank goodness she doesn’t own a weapon.”

  “How did it go?”

  “Not well. They argued. According to my daughter, Ava was as cold as ice, not the least bit sympathetic or willing to break it off with Elliot—not even for the sake of the children. She told Dani that he’d relentlessly pursued her. ‘He’ll never walk away from me,’ Ava said. ‘Why on earth would you want a man who no longer loves you?’”

  “Did Dani make any threats?” I hated to ask the question, but it was necessary. The police wouldn’t have any qualms about asking that and more.

  “She threatened to sue her for alienation of affection. When Ava laughed at her, she threatened to… she threatened to kill her.” Lolly closed her eyes and shuddered.

  I drained the cooling tea in my cup to give me time to think. “Has she admitted this to the police?”

  “No and I have no idea how to counsel her.”

  “When did this take place?”

  “At the worst possible time—the night before Ava was found dead.” Lolly’s voice broke with a sob. The tea could rebalance her body’s systems, but it couldn’t numb her emotions. Only black magick could accomplish that. And the price for it was too high.

  “When Duggan first questioned her, she skipped over the confrontation?” Lolly nodded.

  “When did she tell you about this?”

  “Two days ago. Keeping it to herself was making her sick. Do you think she should tell Duggan now? Won’t it make her look horribly guilty? Look, Ava was the only person who knew about that conversation and she’s dead. Maybe Dani should keep her mouth shut?”

  “There’s a really good chance that Ava told Elliot and she might have also told her best friends. I think Dani has
to admit it to the police before they find out from someone else, but I’m no expert on legal matters. If she hasn’t retained a lawyer yet, now would be a good time to do it.” Lolly clamped her teeth down on her lower lip.

  “Listen,” I said, “things aren’t as dire as you think. From everything I’ve read, and everything Travis has uncovered, the police don’t have any physical evidence linking Dani to the body.”

  “You’re right!” Lolly said. “That means there is hope.” She stood up and kissed me on the top of my head. “I’m going over to see Dani this minute and tell her in person what you said! It’s a good thing I brought my car.”

  Oh no—did I do it again? Did I give her false hope?

  * * * *

  “I have information I’m sure you’ll find invaluable,” Beverly said when she swept into Abracadabra the next morning. I was arranging a new shipment of crystals on one of my display tables. I knew she expected me to drop what I was doing, which is why I didn’t even pause to look up.

  “I’ll be done here in a few minutes,” I said. She issued a small humph and walked over to the register to wait, drumming her fingernails on the counter to let me know she was annoyed. When I was satisfied with the display, I joined her there. “I’m all ears,” I said, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace.

  Beverly produced an equally artificial smile. Neither of us would make great actors. “I thought we could barter for the information.”

  “I’ll have to hear what you have or I can’t possibly assign it a value.”

  “But once I tell you, it will no longer have any value,” she pointed out. “You could say you already knew it.”

  “Look, if you don’t trust me to be honest with you, there’s no reason to continue this conversation.” I went around the counter to sit at the computer. Beverly appeared to be stymied. Her phony smile disintegrated as she tried to decide on a new strategy.