“You sure you weren’t imagining it?” Liv asked.
“Well, there’s always the chance I could’ve been. It was just a feeling. I didn’t actually see anything out of the ordinary. But I’m pretty sure someone was watching me.” Was I being paranoid?
“It’s a possibility, Lily, but I don’t sense any immediate danger. Are you okay to stay, or do you want to go home?” Beren asked.
Since the feeling had disappeared, it should be fine, and I wasn’t going to let some creepy snake person ruin my double-chocolate muffin and coffee. “Nah, let’s stay and finish. I’m sure it’s nothing.” I smiled for emphasis.
As we chatted, the people from the table behind me got up to leave. The woman pushed her chair back into mine. A sorry came from behind me. I turned. “Not a problem.” I smiled and hid my surprise. It was the woman who’d kicked us out of the plastic surgery thing yesterday. She was with a grey-haired, slim man I recognised as the cosmetic surgeon from the internet article.
She said nothing about recognising me, turned, and left with her dad. I turned back to Liv and Beren. “Did you see that? She pretended she didn’t know us.”
Liv’s forehead wrinkled. “Isn’t that the woman from yesterday at the hall?”
“It sure is. Why doesn’t she like us? We didn’t do anything to her. Seriously? First she kicks us out; then she pretends not to know us.”
Beren swallowed the last of his cheese-and-ham croissant. “Maybe she’s just not a people person. Or maybe she does recognise us and doesn’t want to have to apologise again for kicking us out?”
Hmph. I hated being ignored, but Beren made some good points. “Maybe she wouldn’t let us in yesterday because she wants him to slow down. You heard what she said.”
Liv looked at me. “Well, can you blame her? He’s getting on. And maybe she’s sick of working for him? She might just want to see him enjoy life. I know my parents are always their happiest when they’ve just returned from holidays. Dad used to take hardly any holidays, but the last few years, Mum’s made him take six weeks off. They go somewhere different every time. What’s the point of working till you die?”
“Looked to me like he loves it. I guess sometimes it’s hard to let go.” Case in point, disappointment flooded me as I finished the last of my muffin. If only I could eat another without putting on four pounds. Beren and Liv had both finished their brunch. “You guys ready to meet the baby?”
Liv’s smile was wide. “You bet! I’ve been looking forward to this since she was born. Let’s go!” She quickly stood.
As we walked home, under a cold, blue sky, we chatted about the baby, all thoughts of being watched forgotten.
Chapter 11
Monday, bored because everyone was at work and I was confined to the house, I practiced a few spells from my grimoire. Admittedly, one was totally useless, but now there was one very confused squirrel who’d briefly worn a tutu. I only made it wear it long enough to get a photo. Hopefully the squirrel would think it had all just been a bad dream. If not, I was probably going to hell. I magicked some nuts for it to the bottom of the tree. After gathering some of the offerings, it flicked its bushy tail at me, which I was taking as thanks rather than sod off.
When I’d run out of energy to perform magic, I sat with my iPad and read. As much as I was tired, I couldn’t help listening out for Will at the reception-room door. It was close to 5:00 p.m., and I was eager to hear how the interviews had gone. Each small noise had me sitting up straight in the armchair, looking over the back of it towards the door like a meercat on high alert for birds of prey.
Each day we didn’t figure out what was going on was another day someone might die. Why was practically every investigation against the body-count clock?
The fire crackled and popped, and I jumped… again. Bloody hell. When did reading get so stressful? When the person is waiting on news, that’s when. At least I knew Millicent and the baby, as yet unnamed, were okay. If James didn’t get his act together soon, I was going to give the baby a name, and there’d be nothing he could do about it.
I sat up straight, ears pricked. That was definitely the reception-room door. I jumped up and hurried to the hallway. Will met me there and swept me into his arms for a long-awaited hug and kiss, and by kiss, I didn’t mean a peck on the cheek. When we came up for a breath, I asked, “How did it go?”
He rubbed a thumb gently across my bottom lip. “Do we have to talk about this now? I’d rather prefer to keep doing what we’re doing.” His dimples made a swoon-inducing appearance as he gave me his gorgeous boyish grin.
“Well… as much as I’d prefer not to, I’ve been waiting all day to hear what happened.”
He sighed. “All right. Come on.” He took my hand and led me into the living room, where we sat in front of the fire. “Would you like a coffee?”
“I won’t say no.” I grinned.
“Yeah, I didn’t think you would.” He magicked us each a cappuccino, then created a bubble of silence. “We still have their parents, some other family members, and friends to interview, but we managed to speak to quite a few people today, including their boss and two of their best friends. They both worked at the local vet and were studying veterinary science.”
I sank back into my armchair, sad. “That’s even worse. They were animal lovers who wanted to do good in the world.”
He nodded. The sorrowful look in his eyes matched how I felt. “Yep. Anyway, we have a few avenues of further enquiry at this stage. We’ve yet to interview one of the other vet nurses at their work. Apparently the three of them didn’t get along. There was one witch working there—a vet—and he mentioned that the other staff member was a witch too. The boss and other staff have alibis. The only one unaccounted for is that witch, Julianne. Next, we spoke to Ellie Fisher’s twin brother. He’s obviously not a witch, and he said the girls did everything together. The only out-of-the-ordinary thing they’d done lately was go skiing in Switzerland for a week with friends. We spoke to Ingrid Braun’s aunt, and she had nothing much to add. Everyone we’ve spoken to so far says the girls were happy and doing well. Neither has trauma in their past, their parents are all still together, and there aren’t any drug or alcohol addictions. So far, no dark secrets. We’ll just have to keep digging.”
I couldn’t believe I was about to suggest this, but as painful as it was to use my talent, the family and friends of these young women were going through so much worse. If I wanted to be a decent human, I’d do what I could. “I know there was no need for me to take photos after Ingrid died because Agent Johanssen had seen everything, but maybe I should. Just in case he missed anything.”
Will’s brows drew together as he looked at me. Then he peered out the window. “It’s cold and dark, and you might see something else that shakes you up. Do you really want to do it?”
“I don’t have a choice. I need to do what’s right, Will.” The nightmares would disappear eventually, and maybe they’d get worse if I didn’t figure this out.
Will pulled out his phone and looked at something. When he was done, he met my enquiring gaze. “Weather app. There’s a storm coming down in Dover. Dress warm and take an umbrella. Maybe wear your wellies.”
“Consider it done.” I clicked my fingers for fun, and there I was in a red ski jacket and black wellies, a large, black umbrella leaning against my chair. I smiled.
Will nodded and returned my smile. “Nice work.” He made no gestures, but his lips moved silently before his thick coat and umbrella appeared. His feet were also covered in black wellington boots. He created a doorway and gestured for me to go first. Through I went, to the disgusting public toilet by the roadside. As gross as it was, I stood just inside the doorway as rain pounded deafeningly on the roof. Outside, reflecting illumination from the streetlight, the raindrops were tiny white lasers shooting to the ground in a shower of icy sparks.
So uninviting.
Will had to raise his voice to be heard over the cacophony. “Uber’ll be he
re in five.”
I found myself practically shouting. “Are they going to think we’re weird? I mean, who the hell goes to the cliffs in this weather in the dark when you can’t see the view?”
“Does it matter what they think?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” I wanted to come up with a good reason we’d be going now, of all times. And there it was. I smiled. “Floral tin in the kitchen, please come to my hand; this I do command.” I nodded. Not bad rhyming. Not perfect, but maybe I was getting there. Even better, the colourful, small, empty tin appeared in my hand.
“What the hell’s that for?”
“It’s the empty tin from specialty tea I bought Liv. The container’s so pretty, she decided to keep it.”
“Yes, but why do you have it now?”
Headlights flooded the road, and tyres crunched on gravel as our Uber pulled up in front of the toilets. “Just look sad.” I schooled my features. He shook his head and rolled his eyes but did as asked.
We jumped into the car, and the Uber guy asked, “Where are you headed?”
Will answered, “White Cliffs, thanks.”
The guy twisted around to stare at us with incredulity. “Are you mad?”
My closed lips trembled, and I blinked as if about to cry. “We have to scatter my uncle Michael’s ashes. He stipulated this date and place, and we couldn’t get here earlier.” I held up the tin and sniffed.
His eyes widened momentarily, and he shook his head. “Okay, then.” He turned back around, put his blinker on, and pulled out onto the road. Will looked at me, one brow raised. I shrugged. What did he expect on such short notice? I thought it was super clever of me. You just couldn’t please some people. I hugged the tin to my chest and did my best to look glum about poor Uncle Michael.
It didn’t take long for the Uber to reach our destination. We got out and opened our umbrellas. Even with the downpour, I could taste the salty air. We each cast protection-from-rain spells, and I magicked the tin back home. “Goodbye, Uncle Michael. We’ll miss you.”
Will gave me a “you’ve got to be kidding” look. “Come on, you nutter, let’s get going.”
I lit the way with my phone. It was slow going, as we couldn’t jog for fear of twisting an ankle in the limited light. Thank goodness my past-seeing magic didn’t work that way. The latest jump had happened during the day, so I’d see it all. Hmm, come to think of it, that wasn’t good. I sighed. Watching people’s last moments was torturous, especially because there was nothing I could do to change it. I supposed I had to focus on the future, the one where we quickly caught the perpetrator.
We reached the spot of doom. I stopped. Dangling around my neck was my trusty Nikon. I raised it. My stomach tensed as I drew on my power. “Show me the last person who jumped off the cliff.”
Brightness. Blue sky with high, white puffs of cloud. It wasn’t video. Thank God.
We were standing well away from the cliff edge, so the whole scene was captured in my lens. Agent Johanssen stood a little bit back and to the left of a small group of people, one of which was a slim, young woman. Her dark, straight hair cascaded down her back from under a blue beanie. While those standing near her were laughing and taking selfies, she stood ramrod straight, staring out to the English Channel. Whether she was actually seeing or looking blankly, I would never know.
“Show me two seconds from this photo.” I closed my eyes and opened them again. The scene was the same. Either my request hadn’t worked—maybe my magic couldn’t be that specific—or she’d waited longer to leap. “Show me five seconds from this photo.” Shut eyes. Open eyes.
My pulse pounded in my throat, and I couldn’t help the anguished “No!” that blurted out. I snapped a shot, then stepped closer—not too close, mind you. I hadn’t forgotten about that fatal drop. I zoomed and took a shot of Agent Johanssen, his face contorted, mouth open wide, as he likely screamed at her to stop. His arms were bent, preparing to sprint.
But it was too late.
The smiles on the bystanders’ faces had twisted into shock and horror. I knew how they felt.
Ingrid had stepped off and was falling. Already, her legs were cut from view, her arms above her head, her beautiful hair blown upwards as she dropped. I clicked and clicked.
“Hey! Hey!” Will shouted.
I started and lowered my camera, then frantically looked around. “What. What is it?”
But he wasn’t there to answer. Someone was walking from the path towards the cliff edge. They had peeled off about twenty feet from us. Will had dropped his umbrella and was sprinting towards them. I’d say it was a pretty safe bet that they were here to jump. This was crazy. It was as if someone had trained their own human-lemming hybrid army. Why would someone do this?
What if Will needed help? I magicked my camera back home and threw light on the situation with an illumination spell. I didn’t want Will going over the edge in the dark. And whoever this person was, Will or Ma’am could wipe their memories later. As unethical as it was, sometimes it was unavoidable.
The dark shape was a man, almost as tall as Will. His steps were hurried, determined.
Knowing there might be some spell bounceback, Will didn’t use magic—he’d even dropped his protection-from-rain spell, probably so he didn’t look weird with the rain bouncing off an invisible shield. Will stopped in front of the man, squinting against the downpour and blocking his path to the cliff. But the stranger tried to walk around him. Will stepped to the side, blocking him again.
I edged closer, just in case.
The man stepped to the other side; so did Will. “Hey, buddy. Stop. Talk to me. What’s your name?” No answer. Then, out of nowhere, the man faked to the right, then dodged left and ran. Will turned and leapt after him.
Adrenaline shot through my system, and my heart raced. “Careful, Will!” I shouted, ready to cast some kind of spell to save him if things went terribly wrong. Problem was, everything was happening quickly, and it was something I couldn’t plan for. What if I cast the wrong spell?
The man darted towards the edge, Will on his heels. I stood still, tensed, ready for… I didn’t know. Icy air scraped down my throat with each nervous, shallow breath, then plumed in my witch light on the way out. Silence had possessed the clifftop, except for the thudding of rain slamming into the ground and the rasp as my breath sawed in and out.
The stranger was only eight feet from the edge. Will dove towards him.
“Will!”
He took out the man’s legs, and they both fell forward, towards the cliff. I wanted to shut my eyes, but that wouldn’t change anything. If he went over, I’d never forgive myself. I edged forward, pushing through my fear, which was like a dam of thick molasses between me and the cliff.
They rolled around on the ground, the stranger throwing random punches, which Will expertly, or maybe luckily, avoided. Will was on top of the man now, astride his stomach. And all this time, the stranger said not a word, but he grunted as he writhed and bucked, trying to dislodge the man I loved.
Will leant forward, arms crossed forearm over forearm, and grabbed both sides of the man’s coat collar, then pulled his hands together. Oh, wow, he was choking him. We weren’t meant to kill him. What was the point of that rather than just letting him jump? What was he doing?
After a few seconds, the man stopped flailing. His arms dropped to the ground. Will, panting to catch his breath, jumped off him and grabbed his ankles. He quickly pulled him towards me, away from the edge.
Thank God Will’s okay. I honestly didn’t know what I would do if I lost him. Okay, so if he chose to leave, I’d figure out how to deal because I wasn’t some psycho stalker, but if he died, I’d be inconsolable.
By the time Will reached me, the man was coming to. What if he took off again? Will was tired. Yes, he was trained for this kind of thing, but what if he wasn’t as successful next time—it was obvious the man would just keep trying till he was airborne. Plus, I could see how valuable it would be to a
ctually have someone to question, maybe even magically poke about in their mind to see what was going on. Not to mention saving a life.
Will quickly looked at me. “Lily, follow me to the PIB.” His magic tingled my scalp as he built a doorway around the rousing man. Then they disappeared.
I extinguished my magic light and followed.
Chapter 12
As soon as we landed in the reception room, our charge was back to full force. He wrestled Will. I managed to dodge the warring men and reach the intercom. I pushed the buzzer multiple times, like pedestrians at traffic lights who think pressing the button more than once is going to make things happen faster. FYI: it doesn’t.
Both of the chairs crashed against the wall as they barrelled through them. If we weren’t so worried about spells bouncing back, we could have had this handled straight away. Will seemed to be getting the upper hand, and so he should, being a trained professional, but the guy had terror on his side. I was sure he was freaking out about the miraculous change in venue.
Finally the door opened. Boy, was I happy to see backup. “Gus, you’re back! Can you help?”
“Yes, Miss Lily.” It seemed as if Gus’s self-imposed work ban was over. As much as I hated his questionable conversation topics, I’d missed him. He stepped in and pulled something from his belt. “Give me his back and hold him, please, Agent Blakesley.” Will struggled with the red-headed man. There was no way this guy was turning around. Just because we couldn’t put a spell on him didn’t mean I couldn’t help Will. I drew on my magic. “Give Will the physical strength to do what Gus has asked. Make Will strong enough so we can see the guy’s arse.” Oh dear. The things I’ll say to make a rhyme.
The man fought harder, but it wasn’t working. Will grabbed the man’s right wrist with his right hand. Pulling the man’s arm straight, Will then stepped to the guy’s right side, turning to face me at the same time. He hooked his left arm over the captive’s right, just above the elbow, and levered his arm until the man screamed. Getting compliance, Will turned them both around to face the wall. He dropped the man’s arm and tried to force him flat to the wall, but he resisted and got Will in a headlock. Will lashed out, grabbed the man’s trousers, and pulled, hard. A monumental ripping sound echoed off the walls as Gus fired the gun-looking thing he’d pulled out earlier.
Witchbotched in Westerham Page 10
