by Molly Fitz
“You’re right.” Part of me was relieved because I didn’t want someone else to understand Jasper like I could. The idea made me feel like our relationship wouldn’t be as special.
But I needed to focus. What mattered right now was that Fred was placed at the scene of the crime. Both men went into the club with Henry still alive, but Fred was the only one that left.
Chapter Nine
“I’m so sorry for your loss, Fred.”
The aging warlock stood in the doorway of his condominium, looking more unkept than I’d ever seen him. I would’ve guessed he’d overdid it at the wake, but I’d seen him leave early. Jasper and I had stopped by his condo last night after we left, but no one answered. Since it was later in the evening, and most, if not all, of the residents of the condominiums who were home were asleep, I wasn’t surprised.
I couldn’t divulge my suspicions that Fred murdered Henry to anyone yet. At least not until I’d investigated it myself. How was I to accuse him of murdering his best friend? To say I knew he was guilty because my talking cat saw the two men at the club that morning? No one would believe me, especially because I was a much more likely suspect. Plus, there might be a logical explanation.
Fred continued to stand silently in the doorway, squinting at me as if he wasn’t sure what to do next.
“Do you mind if I come in?” I smiled and hoped this wasn’t a bad idea. I hadn’t even gotten a chance to talk to Gran about how Jasper had placed him at the scene of the crime. She was passed out when I came home last night and still this morning. I knew her exhaustion would be more likely a result of the dancing rather than drinking. The old witch could really cut a rug.
Fred frowned, but didn’t seem to be able to think of a reason to refuse me. “I suppose.” He ran a hand over his head and glanced over his shoulder. “I haven’t cleaned up.”
“That’s okay. I just want to chat with you for a minute.” Fred saying he hadn’t cleaned up was an understatement. Both he, and his place, were a wreck. I wrinkled my nose at the odor and located the overflowing trash can as the source. That, or something crusted over on the dishes piled in the sink, or the ones on the counter.
Fred stared at me. Gone was the gregarious, socialite. Perhaps he wasn’t whole without his sidekick. I felt bad having to question him, but no stone should be left unturned. Since James Stone hadn’t looked under any of his own stones, and evidence was piling up, that left me.
The jab from Jasper shoving his claw through the bag to my leg reminded me of the purpose of my visit. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.” I set my bag down. I assumed it would be hard to make a regal exit out of an old tote bag, but Jasper did his best and strutted out with his tail held high.
“Oh.” A slight smile tugged at the corner of Fred’s lip. “That looks like a nice cat.”
Jasper scowled when Fred didn’t recognize him. Granted, Jasper’s sleek, shiny, black coat and piercing golden eyes contributed to his handsome appearance, but the most unique thing about him was his personality. Except from what I could tell, I was the only one who received the full benefit—and punishment—of all of that.
“This is Jasper. I thought you might’ve seen him before at Night Moves.” I studied Fred for a reaction.
He cocked his head and looked at Jasper. Recognition dawned on Fred’s face. “You know what? I think I have. He hangs out behind the club. Did you find him there? Henry or I often brought him a treat or other leftovers.” Fred returned his attention to me with more wariness in his expression.
Of course he wouldn’t consider that Jasper might’ve seen something that morning, or that the cat would’ve told me anything to implicate him in Henry’s murder. I’d have to do a little more covert convincing to get him talking.
“I often work the early shift.” I knelt to stroke Jasper, then raised my gaze to meet Fred’s. “I know you were there that morning.” This wasn’t a lie. I didn’t have to say I knew this fact because Jasper told me. I was usually the first one in the club each morning, so it made perfect sense that I might’ve seen him leaving and he didn’t see me.
“You saw me.” His face paled and he sunk into the couch. The newspapers and discarded food wrappers littering the cushions, crunched when he sat upon them. I was happy he’d lowered himself closer to my level. It was only after I’d knelt that I realized it put me at a distinct disadvantage if Fred was dangerous or decided to retaliate to keep me quiet.
I paused, considering my next words carefully. I’d caught him off guard, and so far, I had the advantage in the conversation. I hadn’t actually said that I saw him that morning, or that I knew anything he might’ve done, but I nodded to keep him talking. And talk he did.
His face crumbled like the wrappers surrounding him and he dropped his head into his hands. “It was an accident. I should’ve said something then, but after I tried to help. Well, it just made it worse. Then more time went by, and it made me look guiltier. I’m a terrible friend.”
I scooped up Jasper and stood to loom over Fred. “You killed Henry. I think that makes you much crueler than a terrible friend.” I might’ve been called a poor friend before, but that was because I forgot a birthday, or a call back, or said something sarcastic, but I’d never killed anyone.
He straightened and his eyes grew wide. “For goddess sake, no. I didn’t kill Henry! He was my best friend.”
“Then how come he was dead when you left?” I was pushing my luck with this question, and I never had much luck to start with. Who knew what Fred was capable of, and here I was provoking him. Jasper might have the customary nine lives, but I didn’t think I did. Still, I had to know if Fred was responsible.
Fred sighed and reached down to the corner of the cushion. I tensed, but he only retrieved a rumpled picture of Henry and himself. He smoothed the worn photo out with his thumb. “I miss him. We’ve been friends for the last thirty years. I never thought he’d be the first to go. Guess I probably didn’t want to consider it.”
He met my gaze. “It started with a stupid argument.” He grimaced. “Well, argument is a strong word. It was more like a disagreement. We both were interested in Charlotte and were arguing over who would be the better man. The whole idea that there was even an argument about this is ridiculous because it’s not like it would be up to either of us. Charlotte was the only one who could decide that.” He shrugged. “But, we were going back and forth about who she should choose.”
Jasper opened his mouth, most likely to claim he was right, but I shushed him. It was hard enough for me to keep quiet this long, but if I could do it to keep Fred talking, Jasper could too. Besides, I would likely be unable to stop a nervous laugh if I opened my mouth, which was sure to shut Fred up.
Fred stared at the photo with a hint of a smile. “I knew he had me when he brought up his dancing skills. He could really cut a rug back in the day. So, when he said he’d be a better dancer and could whisk Charlotte off her feet, I claimed he no longer had it in him. He accepted the challenge. I reached over the counter to look for where to turn on the music. I knocked over some spelling ingredients while I was searching for the blasted button.”
He took a deep breath before continuing. “When I finally got the music on, Henry jumped from the barstool, and headed for the dance floor.” He hung his head. “His pants must’ve caught on the chair, or there was something spilled on the floor, because he stumbled and went down. Then he didn’t get up. Who would’ve thunk it? Over a woman.”
That couldn’t be the whole story. “But there was magic residue on him.”
Fred shook his head. “I know. I thought maybe I could save him. It was just a fall. He hit his head hard, but surely that wouldn’t be enough to kill a warlock? I had some old spelling materials in my jacket, but I worried that they might’ve been no good, probably expired. So, I looked around for a first aid kit, but instead I found the spelling and charm stuff stashed behind the bar that I’d bumped when I turned on the music.” He frowned. “What’s that
stuff doing there anyway? I never even heard of a few of those potions.”
I waved him off to avoid deterring the topic to me and my secret ingredients.
“But nothing worked. I was flustered and wasn’t sure exactly what measurements I was using. In fact some of the mixtures backfired. I don’t know if I combined the wrong stuff, or it was because mine was old. I don’t know. I probably never will. But I couldn’t help him.” His face fell.
I hated to push him, but I needed the rest of the story. “Were you afraid you’d get in trouble for being there?”
He shook his head. “We missed hanging out at the club. We’d been coming there early for years. I’m sure Vlad suspected someone might be coming in, but we never hurt anything or anyone and always left cash in the tip jar. Neither of us can stay up late anymore, and the noise is too loud. So we’d go there to have some coffee and conversation.”
Vlad allowing two old warlocks alone in the club was almost more of a surprise than Fred being responsible for Henry’s death. Maybe I was judging too much on appearances. There was one last thing that still didn’t make sense. “Why would you put him in the freezer?
Once Fred started confessing, he couldn’t stop. “I put him in the freezer because I thought maybe it would help preserve him until I figured out a spell to bring him back.” Fred’s pain-filled gaze met mine. “But I never figured anything out. Reviving after death, or reincarnation, has never been done, at least not in any spell book that I could find. I didn’t want him to come back as a zombie, if that’s even possible. I asked around to see if he could be brought back as a vampire or a werewolf. You know, without really explaining who I was asking for, or why. I even thought about asking that creepy bartender, but I couldn’t get up the nerve to talk to him. But it didn’t matter because everyone told me no. And I’m not so sure Henry would’ve been too happy if I could’ve done it anyway. He loved being a warlock.”
He dropped his head into his hands and sobbed big, loud, messy, old man tears. I reached to awkwardly pat his leg. “It’s going to be okay.”
It was the most comfort I could provide because I had no idea what was in store for Fred.
Chapter Ten
My shift was winding down. It was early yet, so the club wasn’t that busy. Gran swiveled in the bar stool and reached for the charmed bodacious bikini cocktail I’d made at her request. Since my previous attempt at something new exploded, and I could never unhear what I’d heard from the confession cocktail, I’d been hesitant to create new drinks. I’m pretty sure that was exactly why she’d ordered one. She wasn’t one to let me dwell in my insecurities. That, and she was always game to try any beverage that included a splash of an allure charm.
I hesitated before extending the frosted glass topped with a tiny umbrella. “Are you positive you want this? It’s a new recipe.”
Gran pulled the drink from my grasp, took a long swallow, and then smacked her lips in satisfaction. “Why not? I like to live dangerously. Besides, we’re celebrating. You solved your first case.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” I shrugged, but ducked my head to hide my smile. I was secretly pleased I’d discovered the truth behind Henry’s death.
“Wouldn’t say what?” She turned to the side, propped an elbow on the bar, and tossed one calf over her other knee so she could survey the men in the club. Her wedge sandal dangled from her toes as she bounced her leg.
“Either. That I solved it, or that it was my first case.”
“I have to agree with you there,” Jasper grumbled from the cabinet under the bar. When Gran said she was coming for one last toast to Henry and to celebrate clearing my name, Jasper insisted that he should come too.
Gran tapped the bar. “It seems that Jasper agrees with me.”
“He’s not agreeing with you. If you could understand his meows, you’d realize that he thinks he deserves all the credit since he picked Fred out in the picture.”
She lifted her glass. “Well, you make a good team.”
I ran a hand over my hair. Joe had tried, and failed, to cover up the streak I’d earned when I gained the ability to talk to Jasper. The hairdresser said he’d never seen anything like it and that I might be stuck with that one. “I didn’t really solve it since Fred confessed and saying it’s my first case indicates there’s going to be more. Most likely it’s my last case unless you’re expecting to find more dead bodies.”
“You might be surprised. There’s always something going on around here.” Her attention locked on a man at the other end of the bar.
“What’s going to happen to Fred?” It had been a few days since the story broke, first in the Willow Words, then the town. I’d given Fran the scoop first to get her to agree to not share any more pictures or stories about me without my permission.
“It was an accident, but still he panicked, hid the body, and used magic on Henry. The magic may have done more harm than good, but we’ll never know. He was kicked out of the condominiums for his dishonesty. Maybe if he’d alerted someone sooner, something could’ve been done for Henry. We witches have to stick together.” She shrugged. “What happens to Fred is in the hands of the police now. You did your job. Like I said, you might have a new career as a private investigator.”
“The only thing I’m good at is being a waitress—if that. I’m not so sure I’d be a good investigator.” Truth be told, I’d probably done a better job solving the case than I had with my charmed cocktails as of late. However, Gran did look like she was enjoying the new one I’d created and it seemed to be working. I’d caught a few men glancing in her direction.
“Stop being so modest. It doesn’t suit you.” Gran stood from the stool, taking her cocktail with her and leaving a wet ring on the bar. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think there are a few warlocks who might want to buy a lady a drink.” She winked before walking away with an extra sway to her hips. Her tight, short skirt clung to her butt enough to leave little to the imagination.
I shook my head and smiled. It was nice to be with Gran. She might be exasperating at times, but she was fun to be around and good for my self-confidence.
An investigator? Me? Right. Although, if I thought about it, I’d done more than James Stone in solving Henry’s case. No one had seen the pale, private eye since that day. He was either deep undercover, or he forgot about agreeing to investigate Henry’s death.
I leaned on the bar and looked at Burton. I was glad to know he didn’t have anything to do with Henry’s death. I never thought he did, but well, you never know what some people are capable of. With Burton, I hoped to never find out.
“I’ve had enough. I’m ready to go home,” Jasper piped up from under the counter.
I bent, opened the cabinet door under the bar, and came face to whiskers with a cranky-looking kitty. I still didn’t know what went wrong with that charmed cocktail that enabled me to understand him, or if this was a permanent situation. Sometimes I thought it might be better if Jasper was capable of shutting his trap now and then. “Be quiet. You know that Vlad will toss you out if he discovered you in the club. I only have an hour left in my shift. Take a nap.”
“Fine. It’s insulting that you shoved me under the bar when I’m the true hero in this investigation.” He hissed. “I’m not sure how much rest I’ll get with the volume in this place.”
I raised a brow. “It’s better than hanging out by the dumpster isn’t it?”
He ignored me, walked in a circle, and curled up on my jacket. “Wake me when you’re ready to go. Don’t forget to get something special for my dinner. You never would’ve figured out what happened to Henry if it wasn’t for me.”
I smiled. “You’re right and so was Gran. We do make a pretty good team.”
He cracked an almond-shaped eye and I caught a hint of a smile. “If you say so.”
I closed the cabinet and surveyed the rapidly filling club. If not for the cocktails, other people came here with the hopes of gracing the same stage where a handful of singing
sensations were launched back in the day. I was jerked from my mindless perusal of the crowd when I spotted a man hunched over in hushed conversation with Burton at the end of the bar. I frowned. Talent wasn’t always necessary for a rise to fame or fortune. Some of them made a deal with the devil, or should I say, one of the devil’s associates.
It was likely that they didn’t always make the connection at first. At least that’s what I assumed. Over the last few days, I’d allowed my overactive imagination to fill in the blanks of all the things I didn’t know about Burton, which was a lot.
I sighed, thinking of Henry again. I hadn’t known him long, but he’d made an impact on me. Most people were all about today, and not thinking about tomorrow. Paranormals lived a long time, but not forever. Some seemed to forget that mortality fact.
Warm breath on my shoulder indicated that Burton had come up behind me. I’d gotten better at detecting him before he startled any more years off my life.
“Any potential tonight?” I slipped my tray from under the counter, wiped it with a cloth, and winked at him. Ever since I found out he was a demon, I liked to play this game just to see if the man of stone might crack one day. There had to be a sense of humor underneath that unyielding exterior.
Instead, he met me with his usual blank stare and didn’t even bother to raise a brow. I’d shared his secret life with my sister Ava. Maybe she’d worry less about me directly and worry more about the company I kept instead. I hoped it read as, “See? I could be worse.”
I scanned the bar. “How about that dude? He looks like he would enjoy an eternity festering in the heat of the underbelly.” Without thought, I continued, “How about Gloria over there?”
Oh no. I cringed, remembering that Gran had said Fred was no longer living at the condos, which meant there was an opening, two if you considered Henry’s condo as well. I could only hope that they wouldn’t fill either of those with Gloria.