by Sonia Parin
“I’m no expert. Going by what I see, the woman holding the hairdryer fell into the bathtub and electrocuted both herself and her husband.”
“Why would she do that?”
Lexie nudged her with her foot. “Did someone hit your off switch? You’re dwindling. Pull yourself together.”
“What’s the point? These days, everything seems to take so much effort. I’m even reduced to begging for food.”
“Since when? I feed you.”
“You give me generic brands. I can barely stomach some of them. At this rate, I shall become emaciated.”
“Hey, I’ve been giving you that expensive stuff Mirabelle gave us.”
Luna harrumphed. “We ran out of that over a week ago. I’m onto to you. You’ve since been deceiving me by buying the cheap stuff and keeping it in the fancy box.”
“You never said anything. And... I’ve been strapped for cash. Can we not discuss this now?”
“Mirabelle said you only needed to ask for what you wanted. What are you waiting for? Ask for more money.”
“I have, but she’s been slow in filling the order. I think she’s doing it on purpose so I finally cave in and give her Octavia. But she’s my personal assistant and I am not giving her up.”
“You should use her to negotiate an increase in allowance.”
“I will not use Octavia as a bartering chip.” She strode to the door and yelled out Marcela’s name. Turning back, she said, “How do you think that would make Octavia feel?”
“I didn’t think you cared.”
Lexie paced around the bedroom. “We have to snap out of this... whatever this constant arguing is. Let’s try to be ourselves.”
“That might be part of the problem. We’ve been together a short time and we don’t really know each other. In fact, we’ve barely had a moment to ourselves. We’ve been wrenched into one investigation after the other and, most of the time, we’re relying on our wits, me more than you—”
Lexie pointed a finger at Luna. “There. Right there is what’s wrong with us. You seem to think because you went to a hoity-toity school you’re better than me.”
Luna stuck her nose in the air. “Have you ever heard me express disdain over your obvious lack of formal education?”
Lexie clicked her fingers and pointed them at Luna again. “Yes, just then.”
“Well... you... you poke fun at me. Every opportunity you get, you ridicule my upbringing and my perfect diction. The way I walk and flick my tail. I have feelings and they can be fragile. I can’t be held responsible for your excess baggage.”
“Me? I don’t have excess baggage. I’m fine the way I am. In fact, I’m better than fine. I’ve been flexible, adjusting to impossible situations and putting up with your constant whining.”
“I do not whine. My grievances are well justified, and they need to be addressed rather than ignored or mocked.”
“Face it, you resent the fact you don’t have much of a choice. You want to ascend to the position of feline companion to a High Chair and you think I’m going to be stuck as an incoming High Chair forever.”
“I’m sure you’re still trying to find a way out of fulfilling your role and then what will happen to me? I’ll be forced to go into domestic service.”
“What are you talking about?”
“And that,” Luna continued, “Could send me off on a downward spiral. I’m too young to have kittens. And, truth be known, I’m not even sure I want them.”
“I’m thinking you could really use a few sessions with the shrink.”
“Ditto.”
Marcela Taggart strode in, her expression stern. “If you have found your clue, you should make your way downstairs.”
“We’ve been held up.” Lexie pointed toward the en-suite bathroom.
Marcela peered in and gasped. “Lauren and Lance McCullen.” She swung toward Lexie. “What did you do to them?”
“Me?” It took Lexie a moment to compose herself. Straightening, she strode to the door and closed it. “You need to put the place on lock down. No one leaves.”
Luna nudged her with her paw. “What about our outing to the market? You promised you’d get me a lovely handmade quilt.”
Marcela clutched her clipboard. “Lock down? I can’t possibly do that. How will I explain it to everyone?”
“You won’t have to. The police will.”
Marcela’s mouth gaped open. She gave a slow shake of her head and retreated toward the door. “I can’t possibly involve the police.”
“You don’t have a choice.”
The co-coordinator wavered for a moment. “Do you realize what this will do to our business?”
“Marcela, there are two dead bodies in the bathtub. What do you propose to do with them?”
Marcela floundered. “I... I... You.” She turned to Lexie. “You’re an incoming High Chair—”
“You know?”
“Of course I do.”
“Are you affiliated with a coven?”
Marcela’s chin lifted. “Soon to be restored.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That I’ve applied for readmission into a coven. I’ve since been on probation.” She gave an exasperated shake of her head. “This will destroy me. You can do something about this. You can fix it... Make it go away.”
“In your place, I’d relish the moment,” Luna said, “She appears to think highly of you. Clearly she does not know you are still landing in closets...”
“Make it go away? That would be wrong,” Lexie said.
“Why?” Marcela asked.
“It’s obvious. Someone killed them.”
“That’s your opinion. To me, it looks like an accident. Lance McCullen was taking a leisurely bath while Lauren McCullen was using the hairdryer. She tripped and fell into the bathtub.”
Luna strutted toward the en-suite bathroom. “It’s quite plausible.”
“So you agree?” Marcela asked.
Lexie frowned. “I didn’t say anything.”
“I just heard you say it’s quite plausible.”
Lexie shook her head. “That wasn’t me.”
“I think she heard me.” Luna gave Marcela a head to toe sweep that spoke of puzzlement. “Interesting.”
Marcela looked around, much the same way Lexie had when she’d first heard the butler’s voice. “What’s interesting?”
“You... being able to hear Luna. But how? No one else but me can hear my feline companion.”
“That was your cat? It was nothing but a whisper.”
“Feline companion,” Lexie corrected before Luna could object. “Exactly what sort of probation are you on?”
“It’s a long story.”
“That’s okay. You can tell me while we wait for the police to arrive.” Lexie wondered if the local precinct had an O’Rourke working for them. She hoped they did because something didn’t look right.
“Isn’t there some way to deal with this without calling the authorities? Their involvement will have a negative impact on my probation.”
“And their lack of involvement won’t? This is a crime scene. There’s no two ways about it. A crime has been committed and the authorities need to look into it.” Lexie crossed her arms and stood firm.
Marcela pushed out a breath and relented. “Fine. I’ll call them.”
“Ask if there’s an O’Rourke working for them.”
“Do you have a first name? There might be a hundred of them.”
“There are a hundred but not all here.” Lexie considered calling out the name but doing so would result in one hundred O’Rourkes descending on her all at once, their voices united... In any case, she didn’t think it would work within the grounds of Gainsborough Mansion.
She watched Marcela place the call. Wanting to make sure she wasn’t faking calling the police, she went to stand beside her and listened in on the conversation.
Marcela looked up. “They say there’s one O’Rourke working at th
e precinct.”
“Ask them to put him on.” She gestured for Marcela to hand over the cell.
“Gerard O’Rourke,” a male voice announced.
Lexie smiled at the familiar voice. She’d never met him, but all the O’Rourke detectives she’d liaised with to date had a similar deep voice that carried layers of other voices.
“This is Alexandra Elizabeth Mackenzie.”
Hearing the use of her full name, Luna gave her a small nod of approval.
Gerard O’Rourke seemed to hesitate.
“Is this Gerard O’Rourke of the O’Rourke Group?” she asked.
“Why are you calling me on a cell? Wait, don’t answer that. Where are you?”
“Gainsborough Mansion.” She gave him a brief rundown of what she’d found.
“Have you alerted anyone else?”
“Meaning?”
“Your colleagues.”
She guessed he meant Mirabelle and Catherine. “Oh, them... No, I have a communication embargo.”
“That is not acceptable.”
“Tell me about it.”
After asking her to secure the scene and promising to arrive shortly, he disconnected the call.
Luna sauntered up to her. “What did he say?”
“Not much and... he didn’t sound like the other O’Rourke detectives I’ve encountered. I get the feeling he wanted to tell me off...” Hearing police sirens in the distance, they all turned toward the window.
Marcela glanced at her watch. “I should go down and open the gates for them.”
“Not so fast. I didn’t see anyone operating the gates when we arrived. Get Jeeves to do it.”
“Jeeves?”
“The butler.”
Marcela took what appeared to be a nervous swallow. “Jeeves. Please open the gates for the police.”
When the butler didn’t respond, Lexie strode over to the bedside table and pressed the button, but she didn’t get an answer either. “Your system appears to be faulty.”
“He must be on a break.”
“At some point, I wouldn’t mind meeting this butler of yours.” She pressed the button again. “I thought you said he was an automated system.”
Marcela shifted. “Well... He... It alternates. The recorded system kicks in when... Jeeves is not available.”
“Neither one is working at the moment.” She looked at Luna and they both raised their eyebrows. “That sounds suspicious. Not being around to answer our call could put him in a tenuous position...”
Marcela retrieved a small remote from her pocket.
Glancing out the window, Lexie saw the gates opening. “Now that’s sorted out, how about you begin telling me that long story of yours.”
Marcela scooped in a breath. “Fine.”
When she moved, Lexie thought she might pull up a chair. Instead, she sunk to the floor. In an instant, her demeanor shifted from confident businesswoman to little girl lost.
“I’m trying to restore my rightful mojo.”
“Huh?”
Marcela clicked her fingers. “My powers. My family lost it all and I’m trying to reinstate them.”
“How did you lose your powers?”
“I didn’t, not exactly. It’s a case of use it or lose it. I was never given the opportunity to acquire powers. It all began with my great grandmother marrying a man who disapproved of magic. He banned her from using her powers. Whatever her children inherited from her, they lost because they didn’t have the opportunity to nurture them. My mother has some abilities, but nothing really useful.”
“But what about the gateway and... the wafting. Luna and I wafted past the gates.”
“I spent a small fortune buying that magic.”
Magic for sale?
Luna put her paw on her foot and looked up at her. “If you’d bothered to practice your traveling, you might have perfected it by now and you could be earning top dollar. Imagine how many people would line up for the services. From New York to London in the blink of an eye. We could be rich. I would have an endless supply of Game Indulgence and, instead of living in a cramped apartment, we could live in a mansion and have servants.”
“What is your cat talking about?”
“Don’t mind her. She has illusions of grandeur. Anyway... what was I saying... Oh, yes. What about Jeeves? We heard his voice but when you told us it was all automated, we assumed that was an excuse for non craft people.”
“Faked.” Marcela gave a small nod.
Luna prowled over to Marcela and dropping her head, sniffed her. “I can’t believe she can actually hear me. I can’t pick up any powers.”
“So now that you know someone else can hear you, are you going to get on your soapbox?”
“As a matter of fact, I’d be too embarrassed to tell someone else about my dire circumstances. I wouldn’t want word to spread. What if it all reaches my sister, Venus? I’d never hear the end of it.”
Marcela brushed her hand across her brow and rubbed her temples. “I’m not surprised you two were sent here. Ever since you arrived, you’ve done nothing but bicker and growl at each other.”
“We have not,” they both said.
“That’s something to work with. You both agree on something.”
Luna sat back on her haunches, her ears pricking up to attention. “What exactly is your forte?”
“My great grandmother was an administrator witch. We excelled at organizing events and also acted as mediators. I’ve scrounged up enough powers to go into business for myself, but this place is already mortgaged to the hilt.”
“The mansion is yours? I thought the Hensley Corporation owned it.”
Marcela nodded. “Taggart is my married name. I’m a Hensley by birth. I inherited the mansion from my great grandmother’s side of the family. This,” she hitched her thumb toward the en-suite bathroom, “Could ruin me.”
“Cheer up. The fact you have so much to lose will keep you out of the list of suspects.”
“Perhaps you should reserve judgment,” Luna suggested, “As a lead investigator for Delicate Matters Investigations—”
“Delicate Matters? Where did you get that? We’d decided on Crafty Investigations.”
Luna looked away. “I might have heard something or other...”
“I knew it. Mirabelle!”
Marcela shook her head. “Who’s this O’Rourke you insisted on contacting?”
Lexie gave a small shrug. “He belongs to a group which deals with... strange happenings.”
“You think there’s something... someone with powers responsible for this?”
“We won’t know until he looks into it. I can’t do much, what with the no communication embargo... Although, I couldn’t help noticing the other gusets have access to their cell phones.”
“They insisted on it.”
“They?”
“The Council of High Chairs Disciplinary Board explained you’ve been dragging your feet and not completely embracing the idea of being an incoming High Chair and thought it would be a good idea to deprive you of your powers as well as anything else you might consider essential.”
“It’s not as if I have many powers. I can only travel... sort of.”
“That’s just it. You could have so much more.” Marcela gave an exasperated shake of her head. “I don’t understand why someone with so much potential and opportunities would turn their backs on it all. Here I am trying to scrape together enough magic to conjure a decent butler, and all I get is... never mind.”
“Actually, we do mind. What about Jeeves? Is he real or is he fake?”
Marcela buried her face in her hands. “He’s my husband.”
“He sounds British.”
“He’s... He’s a voice actor. I thought the British accent would add prestige.”
“It does. He sounds convincing.”
“He’s quite good... when he applies himself. And that’s becoming a problem. He’s constantly sneaking out to attend auditions. At this rate,
I’ll have to line up a new butler and I’m not sure I’ll be able to afford a real one, so I’ll have to be creative.”
“But you seem to be doing well from your workshops. You came highly recommended by a Fifth Avenue psychiatrist.”
Marcela snorted. “Recommendations don’t come free. That one cost me an arm and a leg. And that’s why I need my magic. With it, I can provide an exceptional service. Everything I do will be brilliant. Word of mouth will be enough for me to excel and succeed.”
“Exactly what sort of powers do you hope to get?”
“Persuasion, management, leadership. Perfection. I only want my birthright.”
“You need powers for all that?”
“It’s an essential edge. Being able to persuade someone is an ability easily acquired by anyone. Being able to do it with magical powers adds a sparkle...” Her eyes brightened. “A lovely gloss. There’s nothing underhanded about it. Everything is simply enhanced to its purest quality. Every task is completed to perfection. Satisfaction guaranteed takes on a whole new meaning. To think my great grandmother gave it all up for love.” Marcela tilted her head. “If my great grandfather loved her so much, he should have accepted her just as she was. But... oh, no. He had to impose his ridiculous rules about no magic. Everything had to be done by hand or not at all. Not that she ever had to lift a finger to do anything. She lived a life of leisure and pleasure.” Sighing, she looked toward the bathroom. “I hope they don’t come back to haunt the house. That would really be the end of me.” With a light grumble, she rose to her feet. “I should go down and greet the police.”
“I feel for her,” Luna said as Marcela left.
“Me too. For her sake, I hope she’s telling the truth.”
“What do you mean? Didn’t you believe her? She sounded sincere enough to me and I have superior senses.”
“Yeah, well. I can’t help feeling I’ve taken a trip down a rabbit hole. Nothing really is as it appears to be.” Lexie was about to follow Marcela out of the suite when the door opened and Gerard O’Rourke strode in.
She would have recognized him as a member of the O’Rourke Group anywhere. Dark wavy brown hair the color of rich chocolate, chiseled features, a strong chin...
Like the other members of the O’Rourke Group she’d met, he filled his suit nicely. Unlike the other O’Rourke detectives he didn’t seem to be at all pleased to meet her. His dark blue eyes appeared to be made darker by a fierce scowl.
