Dead Witch Walking

by Nova Nelson

  “How much money exactly did he inherit from your parents?”

  Hans tilted his head back with a loud exhale, staring up at the stars like they might have the answer. “Oh, I believe it was about two hundred thousand gold pieces, give or take a few silvers.”

  “Two hundred thou—“ Stu choked before he could finish. “That’s a fortune!”

  “Yes,” said Hans sounding almost bored. “My parents were very successful in what they did.”

  “And remind me again what that was?” Stu said, flipping to a new page on his notepad.

  “Inter-realm imports and exports. They used to export some of the Eastwind Spring water and sell in Avalon. Those fools over there thought it helped them stay young.”

  Manchester stopped his writing and looked up at Hans, an eyebrow arched. “Exporting Eastwind Spring water is illegal, Mr. Stringfellow.”

  He nodded. “It is now but for a long time it wasn’t. They earned quite a bit of money off of it, and when the ban was put into place, they made what some might call a criminal amount selling the rest of the barrels they had already shipped into Avalon. After that, they never had to work again.”

  “So your brother took all the inheritance. If I were you, I’d be a little bothered by that,” Stu prompted.

  I watched Hans’s face closely for any tells but spotted only boredom and ambivalence. “To be honest, Deputy, and I hope this stays between us, my parents were generous to their children their whole lives. And Jasmine and I were smart enough to set aside what they gave us for investments. So it was almost a blessing that he took all the money. Who would even know what to do with a windfall of that magnitude?”

  Clearly not Giovanni. Although he’d obviously given buying everything in Eastwind a good old-fashioned try, judging by the state of his home.

  “Two hundred thousand is more than a single man could spend in his life if he tried his best at it,” Stu replied. “And you say your parents only passed away thirteen years ago. So my question is this: is there two-hundred thousand worth of junk in that home, or is the money hidden away somewhere?”

  “I don’t know,” Hans said. “Sounds like a question for the bank. Although I wouldn’t put it past my brother to be paranoid that the bank would take his money and not give it back.”

  I could see where Stu was going, though. “You think we need to figure out if someone might’ve murdered him during a robbery, right?”

  “Precisely,” said the deputy. “Maybe he was out having a drink and mentioned a stockpile or—”

  The front door burst open. Ted jumped out then stood stock-still. “Uh, Deputy?”

  “Yes?”

  “We have a problem.”

  “Yes?” Stu said more slowly, though his impatience rang loud and clear.

  “At first I couldn’t believe it. I thought maybe I’d forgotten where I’d put it, so I searched everywhere. But it was gone.”

  Stu Manchester leaned closer, willing the information out of the reaper. “Speak clearly. What’s gone, Ted?”

  “The body,” he said. “Giovanni’s body is gone.”

  Chapter Eight

  “It couldn’t have just gotten up and walked out,” Stu barked. “Did you hear anyone come in?”

  “No!” The reaper shook his head, his hood fluttering around it in the cold air. “Whoever took it must have come in right after you four walked out.”

  “That’s impossible!” Stu said, pushing past Ted and charging into the house.

  You bet your hide I followed on his heels, literal morbid curiosity driving me on.

  We entered into the hallway and sure enough, no dead guy. “Who could pull his body all the way out the back door in such a short time?” Stu raged. “Wand, Stringfellow.” Donovan, just a step behind me, lit his wand and handed it to the deputy.

  Stu proceeded to stomp through the whole house, tracing the narrow pathways and looking behind especially large stacks of junk, as if the body might have simply rolled behind one of its own accord.

  It was clear, to everyone but Stu, that the body was gone.

  While Donovan, Hans, and I left the house for the sake of our noses, Ted and Stu continued their fruitless search with the deputy griping loudly at the reaper the whole time. (“One job! You have one job!”)

  Finally, they, too, left the house, Ted appearing chastened and Stu looking frazzled. “Twenty tines,” he grumbled, tugging absentmindedly at one end of his mustache. “You folks better get back to your dinner. I’m gonna have to call the boss in, and it’s not going to be pretty. Losing a body… I’ve had some big screw-ups, but this one…” He sounded genuinely worried, and I was tempted to remind him that his job was in no danger, as his firing would bring the total number of law enforcement for the town to one: Sheriff Bloom herself. But he knew that well enough, so I’d let him indulge in a little anxiety for a while. Sometimes, when there’s nothing you can do about a situation, worrying can feel good, like you’re actually being productive. He’d snap into action soon enough.

  Hans turned to his son. “I’d better go back and fill in your mother. She’ll be brainstorming worst-case scenarios.”

  “We’re right behind you,” Donovan said.

  But before we could leave, Stu touched my shoulder and I turned to face him. “You didn’t, um…” A deep crease appeared between his brows. “Now, understand that I won’t be mad if you say yes. I’m sure you have your reasons for the things you do, and your intentions are good…”

  “Get to the point, Stu.”

  “I just have to cover all the angles before I summon the sheriff, you understand.”

  “Get to the point,” I repeated.

  “Did you, by any chance… raise Giovanni Stringfellow from the dead and have him walk off the crime scene?”

  I laughed. I couldn’t help it. Maybe I should have been offended, but I could tell the question came out of utter desperation, and he didn’t mean it personally. “No. I didn’t raise someone from the dead.”

  I could feel Donovan’s heavy presence behind me, but he didn’t say anything.

  “Right.” Stu cleared his throat. “Of course not. Forget I asked.”

  “Already did. You need anything else from us, Deputy?”

  “If you hear from him, will you let me know?”

  “Of course.” I really hoped that didn’t happen, though. While a word with Giovanni’s ghost might be just what we need to solve this mess, nothing I’d heard about the witch made me especially eager to have him pop up on me when I wasn’t expecting it.

  Stu nodded then dragged his feet back to the house.

  When I turned my attention to Donovan, he was looking at me strangely. “What?”

  “We never talked about that time behind Sheehan’s.”

  I thought I knew which time he was talking about and to what specifically he was referring, but I wanted to hear him say it. “What time?”

  “You and I were… well, we were back there, and that ghost—”

  “Roland.”

  Donovan held up a hand. “I don’t need to know his name. But he appeared out of thin air. Just part of him. But real. Not a ghost. Corporeal. A body and everything. Were you…” His voice trailed off.

  “Raising him from the dead?”

  His eyes were wide, their ice blue cutting into me, and he nodded minutely.

  It wasn’t a matter I enjoyed considering, but after a conversation with Ruby, at least I knew the answer. “Yeah. But I didn’t mean to.”

  “And he was…?”

  “Someone from a past life.”

  Donovan squinted at me and a thought seemed to pass behind his eyes before he decided against it. “I’ll take your word for it.”

  “Excuse me.” A voice so meek I almost thought I’d imagined it came from behind me, and I turned to see a bundled up witch in house slippers shuffling over.

  “Evening, Mrs. Hortenbaucher,” Donovan said.

  Great, at least one of us knew who the hellhound she was.<
br />
  “I live just there”—she pointed at a house across from Giovanni’s—“and I’m wondering if you know what happened.”

  “Uh…” Donovan looked to me, and I nodded for him to come out with it. It wasn’t like she wouldn’t find out sooner or later. Better from us than from the Eastwind Watch. “My uncle was found dead.”

  She nodded like she’s already known. “Terrible business. I’m sorry to hear that. I, um, well, maybe you don’t want to hear.”

  He cocked his head to the side. “Hear what?”

  “Maybe it’s better if I tell just you,” she said, looking at me. “You’re the Fifth Wind, right?”

  “Yes.”

  She motioned with a crook of her finger for me to follow her out of earshot of Donovan, then she said, “I saw a man over there this morning.”

  “Yes? What did he look like?”

  “He looked like Donovan, truth be told.”

  I paused, trying to force that to make sense. “Donovan was over there this morning?”

  “No, no. It definitely wasn’t him. But it looked like him.”

  Leonardo. It had to be. “And what happened?”

  “He walked straight up to the front door and knocked, and then Giovanni let him in. That’s all I saw.”

  “Did you see him leave?”

  “Oh yes, just a few minutes later. He hurried out the door.”

  “Was Giovanni with him, or was it just the visitor who let himself out?”

  She considered it. “I don’t remember seeing Giovanni, but I wasn’t looking for that. His house is always so dim anyway, he might have just been hidden in shadows.”

  “Why are you telling me and not Deputy Manchester?”

  “Because,” she said, “you’re a witch.” She tilted up her chin and fiddled absentmindedly with the tie of her robe. “There’s no need to have outsiders poking into our affairs.”

  Ugh, not that again. I always forgot just how elitist some witches could be. In fact, it was somewhat surprising she even considered me among the ranks of “witches,” since Fifth Winds were often excluded due to us being severely wand-impaired and generally freaking everyone out by being ghost magnets.

  “Do you think I should tell him?” she asked. “I’ve seen your names together in the Watch, so you must work closely. Can he be trusted?”

  “Of course he can. But…” I looked over at Donovan who was staring at us with amusement and perhaps a little annoyance for being left out. Mrs. Hortenbaucher’s information would send Leonardo to the top of the sparse suspect list. Would Donovan be okay with that?

  Who was I kidding? It would make his year to see his perfect brother considered a prime suspect in a murder. Which was why I absolutely couldn’t let him know. I’d save him from himself on that one. But Stu would keep it confidential. “Yes, you should tell him. It’s always best if he knows everything. And Sheriff Bloom is on the way. You should tell her, too.”

  “Ooh!” said the witch. “I like her. I heard she slaughtered a whole herd of the nasties in the Emporium on Halloween. It’s a shame she can’t be a witch. The Coven could use someone like her.”

  I was pretty sure Bloom was just fine being an angel. But imagining the look on the High Priestess Springsong’s face if she saw Bloom stroll into a Coven meeting was pretty delicious.

  I thanked Mrs. Hortenbaucher and rejoined Donovan.

  “What was that about?” he said.

  “Nothing. I think she’s batty.”

  “Let’s get out of here, then. It’s freezing.”

  I wouldn’t fight him on that. But when I started to walk down the road, I said, “Hey, we’re going the wrong way,” and pointing vaguely in the direction to his parents’ house.

  He shook his head casually. “It’s not the wrong way to Sheehan’s.”

  Chapter Nine

  The first five hours of the next day took place under the acidic cloud of a hangover. Sheehan’s was always a nice diversion, but Donovan had treated it as a fast-track to erase the last few hours with his family from his memory. He’s also insisted I match him drink for drink—not in any creepy or predatory way, but more in solidarity. Once properly sloshed, he’d told anyone who would listen that his curse of a brother was back in town.

  And by the end of the night, everyone in Sheehan’s Pub also knew Giovanni Stringfellow had been found dead. Thankfully, even in his drunken state, Donovan had the sense not to mention that the body had disappeared. If Stu Manchester, who knew me well, had suspected necromancy, there was little stopping the gossiping regulars at Sheehan’s from suspecting the same. And they wouldn’t change their mind about it once the idea had taken root, regardless of evidence to the contrary.

  Stu hadn’t come into Medium Rare yet, and I wondered if he’d make it before the end of my shift. Bloom must have tanned his hide when she found out. Poor guy. We only took our eyes off the thing for a minute, tops. How it had disappeared was anyone’s guess.

  Ted usually wandered in from his home in the Deadwoods between seven and eight in the morning. Sometimes, if hellhounds had decided to howl all night, he’d come in earlier just to escape the noise. But he didn’t shuffle in this morning until close to ten.

  The gaggle of Coven witches had taken the corner booth in his absence, and he looked entirely lost. “Ted, got a spot for you at the counter.” I pointed to Stu’s favorite seat. He slogged over.

  Without a word, I brought him over a hot cup of coffee. “Long night?”

  “I’ve always liked Sheriff Bloom,” he said, “but yesterday I learned to fear her. I think she might be able to kill me if she tried, and she looked about ready to try.”

  “Sorry to hear that. But I doubt she would ever hurt you, Ted. She likes you.”

  “Liked. Past tense.”

  I’d never seen him so down on himself, so grim—pun not intended but allowed.

  “I have one job,” he continued. “Clean up the bodies and show them the way to the afterlife. Granted, sometimes they prefer to hang around and drop in on you and Ruby, but that’s not part of my job description. I didn’t even get a chance to speak with Giovanni’s spirit.” He paused. “Now that I think about it, I didn’t even feel it in the home anywhere. It was already gone.” He straightened his back with a series of pops along his dry spine. “Did he pay you a visit?”

  “Nope. I thought he might, but I didn’t feel a tingle last night. Maybe he died of natural causes or knew who the murderer was and decided he could move on without vengeance.”

  “Maybe,” he said, “but I’m not sure how he’d move on without my help. The route to the afterlife isn’t exactly intuitive.”

  I put in his order and when I returned with it later, I said, “I think there’s something extra fishy going on, Ted. My Insight’s been flicking me in the forehead off-and-on for the last two days, but I’m not sure what it’s about yet. What I mean is don’t get so down on yourself.”

  He grabbed his fork and stabbed his scrambled eggs like they’d murdered his mother. “Thanks.”

  It was strange, though. While I didn’t understand the full process of Ted’s job as a reaper, the fact that this was unfamiliar territory for him made the hair on my neck stand up. Something was off about this death, and the timing of it happening as soon as Leonardo and Serena arrived in town couldn’t be a coincidence. Could it?

  Stu had undoubtedly spoken with them already based on Mrs. Hortenbaucher’s information, but what they would say to a deputy and what they would say to me might be two very different things.

  Practicing a technique Ruby had taught me just before the new year, I shut my eyes, tried to drown out the noise of the diner, and asked, Should I speak with Leonardo and Serena?

  My insight delivered the equivalent of a slap in the face and a shout of, “Yes, stupid!”

  Then it was settled. I had plans for after work.

  But first, I ought to re-hydrate.

  Chapter Ten

  I’d opted for a quick nap and a magical
shower between the end of my long shift and my visit to the happily engaged couple. Then I sent an owl ahead to make sure they’d be there. They said they would, so it was all set.

  Ruby was buried deep in a cinderblock of a book, and I wavered on if I should fill her in and seek her advice about what to do next. I honestly don’t know if I decided against it because I knew she would agree with my plan of action so there was no point in bothering her, or if I knew she would disagree with my plan of action and I would do it anyway, only then I would know there was an “I told you so” waiting on the other side of it.

  After some serious bargaining with Grim, he’d agreed to accompany me. And after even more debate, I’d convinced him that Monster should stay behind. She didn’t seem put out by it, and quickly resettled herself in the thick, warm fur of Clifford. Grim’s forlorn and betrayed look didn’t go unnoticed.

  “Don’t worry,” I said, “I’m sure you’re still her first choice.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  When we left, he trotted out confidently without looking back, but I knew he was putting on a show. Who cared, though? The show got him out the door when I was half expecting him to go back on his word.

  By the time the Ram’s Head Inn came into view down the road, the sun was already low in the sky and it looked like it might snow again.

  The inn was a stout stone building just on the border of the Outskirts. Where most people felt a little prickly when they got this close to the infamous neighborhood, I just felt like I was heading home. You know, if my home was within a stone’s throw of a dangerous forest and only a few blocks away from a compound of disgruntled werewolves.

  However, today I did feel a little uneasy, but not because of the neighborhood. The memory of the large dark thing watching me from the shadows of the inn the day before wouldn’t leave my mind, no matter how much I told myself I’d imagined it in the first place.

  But just to be sure…

  I approached the building cautiously. “Do you smell anything?”