by Willow Mason
“Shagging a girl half your age might herald a mid-life crisis but it isn’t a crime. Do you have any proof or is this just a case of hurt feelings?”
When Kevin’s haunted eyes shrank from the harshness of my words, I felt awful. I’d have to put my change into the donation box at the checkout to make up for it.
He began to sob.
Yep, donations for the next year.
“It sounds like you’ve had a rough time,” I said in a more conciliatory tone. “But that doesn’t give you the right to scare his widow half to death. She might’ve been married to a scumbag, but she’s grieving for him the same way you’re grieving for Jacki. We need to know you’ll leave her alone in the future.”
Kevin wiped the tears from his eyes. “You bet. I never would’ve done this, but I wanted to know…” He trailed off.
Beezley rolled his eyes. “He wanted to get the truth out of her by pretending he already knew it. Great plan. Tell him to leave things to the professionals from now on.”
When I turned back to our suspect, he was shrinking back in his seat. “Your dog sounds a bit angry.”
“He is. So am I. The next time you want someone to investigate a person’s death, the right number to call is the police station, not a poor old woman with nobody to look out for her. Not to mention, attacking me at the Grand Valley Lodge. When you dropped that bag over my head, I thought I was about to die.”
“W-what?” He stared at me with wide eyes, then glanced to Beezley. “What are you talking about? At the lodge, you’re the one who accused me of being a peeping Tom. I didn’t do anything to you!”
“But you followed us into the lodge, didn’t you?”
“No.” He shrank back in his seat. “I thought you were about to call the police, so I got out of there. Next thing I know, the whole building exploded.” His eyes graduated from wide to bug-eyed. “You’re not pinning that on me! I had nothing to do with it.”
I chewed on my bottom lip, assessing his body language. It didn’t appear disingenuous. I gazed at Beezley who shrugged his ears.
“Fine. Don’t do anything like this again,” I said, sitting back. “Now, get out.”
Kevin’s head jerked up, eyes widening. “That’s it?”
“Yeah. From us, anyway. Once I pass your information over to Agnes Templeton, she might call in the police and you’ll have to answer to them.”
“Sure, sure.” Kevin scrambled out of the car, almost tripping over the curb in his hurry to leave.
“And don’t leave town, okay?” I called after him. “If Agnes gives your address to the police, you’ll just rack up ill will if they have to mount a search party to find you.”
He waved but I didn’t know if he was listening. When the front door of Kevin’s flat slammed, I could hear his flatmate’s rebuke though not the individual words.
“What a loser,” Beezley said, tail wagging. “If only he’d been a bit smarter, we could’ve racked up a whole week’s worth of solid fees.”
“If he’d been smarter, Kevin never would’ve blackmailed Agnes.” I performed a U-turn and headed for home. “And she might give us a bonus for clearing things up so quickly.”
“I doubt it.” Beezley sat back as we passed the remains of the lodge. Yellow emergency tape surrounded the site, while two people dressed in white suits scrambled amongst the tumble of wood and concrete. “What’ll they find?”
“Nothing.” I kept my gaze fixed on the road in front of us. “Even if they did find evidence of magic, the neural net will stop them from really seeing it.”
“How many crimes have your coven committed and used the network to escape justice for?”
I shifted in my seat feeling a heat rash working its way up the back of my thighs. “It’s not like that. Someone put a bag over my head and tried to kidnap me! I had the right to defend myself.”
“What if they find links to Kevin and prosecute him?”
“They won’t.” I turned on the car radio, unsure if that could happen. The next time I talked to Glynda, I should check. Changing the subject, I asked, “If Desmond Templeton really did kill Jacki, would there be some way for us to tell?”
Beezley snorted. “You really think he shoved pills down her throat?”
“It’s possible. It wouldn’t be the first time someone killed a lover to cover up their tracks.”
“Well, I’ll slip an email to DI Jonson and ask him to re-examine the evidence if you’re genuinely concerned.”
“Excellent.” I pulled the car up outside Agnes Templeton’s house. “Now, let’s give our grieving widow the good news.”
Chapter Sixteen
If I’d expected thanks for winding up the blackmail case, I would have been disappointed.
“So, all you have is a name and address?” Agnes Templeton asked when I’d finished explaining everything we knew.
“And an admission of guilt plus a promise he won’t bother you again.”
“Fine.” She fixed me with a steely gaze. “Give the details to me, then prepare your bill of hours and send it through. I take it you’ll be happy for the balance to be paid by cheque?”
“Ecstatic.” I wrote down the requested details and handed the note over. “Do you have an email address?” When Agnes’s expression turned quizzical, I explained, “For the bill.”
“Send it to my home address. I prefer to do things the old-fashioned way.”
Great. Add another couple of days each way for snail mail and I could expect the money from the cheque to clear in another week and a half. If I was lucky and the bank queue didn’t get subverted by zombies again, that was.
Still, I flipped Beezley a victory sign as I walked down the path. Seeing his appalled expression, I double-checked my fingers and turned my hand the other way. Oops.
“We just need to send her a bill and she’ll pay us.”
“I guess this means you can go back to your training, guilt-free.”
I hadn’t been aware I was meant to feel guilty about magic training, but I let the comment slide. Now we had the two jobs wrapped up, my breath came easier. If I was unemployed all the time, I could probably kiss anxiety goodbye altogether.
After dropping Beezley at home, I drove to Glynda’s house to see if she knew where Trevor was staying. To my surprise, I saw him standing at the doorway, head cocked to one side.
Not wanting to interrupt, I stayed in the driver’s seat with the engine turned off. Earlier in the day, I would have bet money Trevor disliked Glynda and was only in town because she was paying for him. Now, as I watched his relaxed stance, my opinion changed.
And when she looped an arm around his neck and drew him inside, I re-evaluated their relationship altogether!
With flushed cheeks, I started the car and set off for home but not before I caught a glimpse of the pair kissing, oblivious to the world around them.
“Ugh, what a waste,” I muttered, pulling up outside my home.
Beezley raised his eyebrows as I threw my purse onto the sofa and kicked the cushion when its contents spilled out.
“You didn’t find Trevor then?” he asked in a deadpan voice.
“Oh, I found him.”
With nothing in the refrigerator meeting my expectations and nothing on the TV appearing the slightest bit interesting, I sat down to take my frustrations out on the computer. When a search didn’t turn up anything about my black magic trainer, I hissed out a breath of air in disgust.
“Why don’t you research Desmond Templeton?” Beezley said from the safety of the kitchen. “You were all gung-ho to prove him a murderer an hour ago.”
“I’m already doing it,” I said, typing the name into the search bar. “You don’t need to teach me how to suck eggs.”
As quickly as my bad mood had swung into town, it left again on horseback. Desmond Templeton’s death was couched in such strange language it took me a while to figure out how he’d died.
“You’ll never believe this,” I said. “Though I suppose it expl
ains why Agnes had a troubled relationship with dogs.”
“What?” Beezley called, trotting out to stand beside me. “Did one attack him?”
“No.” I laughed, shaking my head, both amused and appalled.
“Well, tell me!”
“He died swallowing a worming treatment for dogs,” I said, giggling then slapping a hand over my mouth as I realised how awful it sounded. “The ingredients interfered with his prescribed heart medication and by the time the hospital worked out what he’d taken, it was too late.”
“You mean he killed himself?”
“No. It was an accident. According to this article, his dog needed the treatment but didn’t like swallowing medicine. He tried wrapping the pill in ham to trick him, but the dog still refused to take it.” I wiped a hand across my face, still bemused by the outlandish scenario. “When he demonstrated to the dog how to eat the ham, he accidentally swallowed the whole thing himself.”
Beezley stared at me, open-mouthed. After a second, he swallowed hard. Another second and he issued a small giggle. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he said, before giggling again.
“It’s like those people who get sucked into airline toilets,” I whispered, barely keeping myself together. “It’d be terrible to experience but I can’t help but…” I burst into laughter.
Although Beezley tried to set a stern expression on his face, he soon joined me. While the back of my mind reprimanded me for being horrible and threatened dire punishments, I just couldn’t stop.
“No wonder… Agnes was concerned… about the blackmail,” Beezley managed between shell-shocked giggles. “If that’s how Desmond died, she must’ve been frantic to know what worse secret could tarnish his reputation.”
My giggles tapered away as I clicked through to reread the file on Jacki Sosa. Kevin’s desperate actions showed a depth of caring, even if the focus had been misguided. Her autopsy report couldn’t be plainer.
I printed out the report and turned the computer off, any trace of good humour gone. There was nothing but tragedy there. Better to concentrate on the children at school and how to ensure they stopped messing with magic beyond their understanding.
Now the book was safely back in Harriet’s clutches, it shouldn’t be an issue. By the time these kids gained their occult library card, they’d be mature enough to make better decisions. I hoped.
“Why do you have this?” Beezley asked, sticking his nose into the pages on the printer. “We already know how Jacki died.”
“I thought it might help Kevin come to terms with her death if he knew the coroner had examined her death from all angles. Although the verdict is publicly available, if he didn’t sit in on the hearings, he’ll always be imagining they missed something.”
“You know if the police find out about my password, they might lock us out of the system forever,” Beezley said, scowling. “If we don’t have access to my old tools, then it’ll take a lot more legwork to access information.”
“Kevin’s not going to tell anyone where he got this,” I said. “Not without incriminating himself. He might be reckless but I’m sure he’s not that self-defeating. What could he gain by showing the police the same file they already have on their computer?”
“Fine. Do your good deed. If it backfires on us, you’re the one picking up the extra leg work.”
“Oh, the horrors of earning an honest living,” I said, giving him a tickle on the belly. As much as he claimed to dislike it, Beezley never moved away from a good pat. “I might have to get my investigator license earlier than planned.”
I parked the car directly outside Kevin’s house, not bothering to hide this time. If he didn’t want the information, it made no difference to me. In fact, it might even be better if he refused to see me. Now the thrill of the victory was over, my idea seemed less like a good idea.
But I was here now.
I knocked on the door and stood back, expecting the flatmate inside to yell at me about respecting a man who worked nights and tried to sleep through the day. After a minute passed, it would have been a relief to hear him yell.
One more try. I knocked again, this time calling out, “Kevin? You there?”
Nothing. I turned to go and caught movement from the corner of my eye. A shadow behind the net curtain.
I walked closer and rapped on the glass. “Is that you? I’m not here to cause trouble but I have some information on Jacki.”
A strange grunting sound emerged, and I pressed my face up to the glass, trying to peer through the net curtain. Shapes moved, then a sneakered foot smashed up on the window, right by my face. I jerked backwards.
He’s in there with his new girlfriend, wrestling.
The despair on Kevin’s face when he’d talked of Jacki ruled that out. I ran to the door, trying the handle. Locked.
“Kevin, open up!”
No answer. I turned the handle on the door again, then thumped my shoulder into it.
I shrieked as the pain hit. On TV it all looked so easy.
Once again, I hammered on the door. “Let me in or I’ll call the police!”
Where was my white magic when I needed it? With that power, I could pop the lock and be indoors in a second.
My black magic might tear the entire house apart.
I dialled the police station, then apologised to my shoulder as I threw my full weight against the door again. This time the cheap lock gave, splintering the wood. One kick, and it surrendered. I ran inside.
Two people struggled on the floor. A man and a woman. The strange grunting sound came again, and I saw the whites of Kevin’s eyes raise up.
Agnes sat astride him. Her hand closed over his mouth.
I rushed at her, dropping low just before I hit against her. The older woman went flying, scratching and clawing as we fell back on the floor.
Kevin gasped for breath behind me.
Agnes shoved her thumbs into my eyes.
I screamed and grasped her wrists, digging in with my fingernails as I struggled to pull her away. I could feel my magic burning in my chest, singing to be let loose, to help.
“Let me go,” I yelled at Agnes. “You don’t want to see me when I’m angry!”
Instead, she doubled down, panting with the effort. My fingers dug further into her arms and I leaned back, trying to throw her to one side.
Colours swirled and popped in blackness. I could feel my eyeballs bulging under the pressure.
Then she was gone.
With a startled cry, I fell back, my eyes streaming with tears. Blurry smudges were all I could see. Kicking back a metre, I got to my feet and felt my way forward, hands out like a blind woman.
I practically was a blind woman.
“Kevin?”
“I’m here. Help me hold her down. She’s stronger than you think.”
Agnes screeched in fury. As my vision cleared enough to make out her figure, I saw a large stick near her head and grabbed it.
“Hit her,” Kevin yelled. He was bucking up and down, close to losing his balance.
I didn’t want to hit an old woman. Agnes turned a face full of mottled anger towards me. “I’ll kill you like I killed that homewrecker, Jacki.”
Kevin stopped fighting. His face went slack.
“And like you killed your husband?” I yelled, giving her a kick in the ribs so she’d turn my way.
“It was more than he deserved. I should’ve strung him up and carved him to pieces. Slowly.”
“Get up,” I told Kevin, poking him with the stick when he didn’t respond.
“Are you crazy? She’ll kill us.”
“Can’t you hear the sirens?” I pulled the phone out of my pocket while Kevin scrambled to his feet. I waggled the screen in front of Agnes, jerking it back when she lunged for the device. “The police have heard everything you just said.”
“Then I’ve nothing to lose by killing you,” she yelled, jumping to her feet.
Suddenly, hitting an old woman with the stick didn’t
seem so bad.
Chapter Seventeen
Over the next few hours, various bits of my body began to throb and ache. The worst of it was my eyes. My pockets were bulging from tissues wet through with tears of pain. The police had been kind enough to give me a box of wipes but no rubbish bin.
“Can I go home yet?” I asked for the dozenth time as an officer walked into the interview cell where they were holding me. “I don’t mind answering questions but I’m in a lot of pain.”
“We’ve got the doctor coming down here to look at Kevin Hollard. I’ll get him to swing by here and check on you, too.”
“What about some aspirin?”
“We can’t dole out anything, not even over-the-counter stuff.” The officer smiled. “Don’t worry, he shouldn’t be too long.”
Easy for someone who wasn’t discovering new torn muscles with every breath. “I’m not under arrest, am I?”
The man paused with one hand on the doorknob. “You’re free to go at any time.”
“Great.” I stood up, biting my lip as my lower back announced a mutiny. “Give me a call tomorrow, and I’ll drop by again.”
“We did find a printout in Kevin’s house that we can’t explain,” the officer said, still not moving. “If we get this matter cleared up today, it’ll just go in the too hard basket but if we have to pursue every lead to find out what happened…”
I sat back down in the chair. Beezley would have a field day. If I ever got home to tell him. “Well, come on, then. Ask me your questions.”
“I’ll be back in a few minutes. I just need to get a few details from another witness before we go over things again.”
A few minutes stretched into an hour or longer. It was hard to tell the time of day in the middle of a police station, in a room with no windows. The last time I’d been in here, I’d been invisible, sneaking around the evidence room to try to see justice done.
Invisible would be good, right around now. On the way out of Kevin’s flat, a myriad of flashes told me journalists were lurking, taking pictures.
