“Huh?”
There was another pause.
“To talk about work,” Xander added quickly. “Like I was saying, with the case. We haven’t had much of a chance to catch up and discuss the case. You know, slow down and put our heads together. About the case.”
“Right,” I said, knowing my face was definitely the colour of a strawberry. “Right, I gotcha. Dinner.”
“So, does that sound good? Quiet evening? Comfort food? Discuss what we’ve figured out so far around town?”
“Yeah, that sounds date!” I said with a grin. Lucy, who was in the doorway, reacted to my slip of the tongue with eyes as wide as dinner plates before I realized what I’d said and winced so hard it hurt. “I mean, great! That’s what I meant to say. That sounds totally great. I haven’t been out for dinner in a while. It would be good to... to do that.”
“Great, great!” he said, possibly in the least formal tone I’d ever heard from him. This was becoming surreal. Was this even Xander Forsetti? “I’ll pick you up around seven. I mean, we can ride together. I’m not sure where to go yet.”
“Yes!” I blurted out. “I can do that. I mean, I’d like to do that. It sounds good.” I clenched my eyes shut while Lucy purred smugly on her bed, and I could have sworn I saw a smile on her feline face. Maybe I should have let the broom kill me. At this rate, if the broom didn’t, the shame was definitely going to.
“Okay, see you then,” he said. “Oh, and one more thing - I have some more information that you might find helpful, but it can’t leave the station. You might want to get down here this afternoon before it gets too late. I know you’ve got your obligations at the B&B, but if there’s any chance you could break away for a chat-”
“I’m on my way,” I interrupted, and before he could respond, I ended the call and lobbed the phone at Lucy, but it just bounced on the bed harmlessly while she skittered across the mattress and flicked her tail at me, hopping down and rubbing against my leg smugly before heading down the hallway.
“Don’t you go tattling to Lara,” I warned her. “I can send these brooms after you, you know!”
Hiss!
I smirked and ran my hand through my hair, looking at the mess in front of me.
A hopeless case, a mess in the hallway, a friend who had more talent than I could shake a stick at, and now, a literal date with a literal Xander.
What a few days it was turning out to be.
And now, I needed to find an outfit.
Preferably one that wasn’t covered in cat hair, for a change.
Chapter 9
“Okay, Lucy, I’m heading out,” I called out to the fluffy white cat curled up luxuriously on the sofa. She lifted her head for a moment, blinking languidly at me with those big blue eyes before giving me a very nonplussed yawn and closing her eyes once more. I laughed. Typical cat. At least I knew now it wasn’t just Luna who was sassy all the time.
I slipped on a jacket and put my phone in the pocket before dashing out into the brisk air. I cast another insulation spell and jogged over to grab my broom, hopping on. I glanced up at the sky, silently thanking the moon again for the instinctual wisdom she showed me earlier. I had a feeling I was going to need all the cosmic assistance I could get on this case, especially since it was a kidnapping. I had watched more than enough true-crime television to know that most kidnappings had to be solved in a short period of a few days or risk going unsolved forever. Tina Frost appeared to be a truly amazing little girl, and I was not about to let time slip away from me. Every hour needed to be utilized to maximum efficiency if Xander and I were going to have any chance of getting her back safely.
As I rode my broom toward the station, my mind wandered, my body steering the broomstick almost on autopilot. I could not stop thinking about how simultaneously relieving and frightening it was that Tina and her kidnapper were most likely trapped within the confines of our little town. On the one hand, it was nice to know that the little girl was probably within reach, that she probably had not been whisked away to some far-off land for moon-knew-what purpose. But on the other hand, well, it was terrifying to imagine that the kind of villain who would capture a little girl and steal her away from her loving family and support system was still rolling around town like a loose marble. It felt kind of like we had trapped a spider and its web-wrapped victim in a mason jar and closed the lid. And the lid couldn’t be opened again to save the victim without the added risk of the spider breaking free.
Only, I didn’t have much of a fear of spiders. They were just little creepy-crawlies who couldn’t help that they had an unnerving appearance. They meant no harm, most of the time, and were usually innocent animals just trying to live their lives. So perhaps a spider wasn’t a particularly suitable analogy for the kidnapper. That kind of villain didn’t really occur in the animal world. It was a distinctly human kind of evil. I hoped that the forces of good would win out in this case, because the thought of never being able to return little Tina to her heartbroken father and struggling mother was way too painful to bear.
I remembered again that Francine Rhodes might be a suspect in the case, though, and that made me shiver. She had seemed so genuinely sweet, like she was really trying her best to make things right again in her little world. I hated to think that she might be involved in all this, but I supposed that was one of the downsides to working on mysteries like this: you just had to confront the fact that seemingly good people sometimes did very bad things. And there was the whole fact that she had that creepy room set up.
I sighed and shook my head, as though to throw off these dark thoughts. I needed to keep my mind clear and bright if I was going to be any help to Xander on this. I decided it would be better to let him handle the darker stuff. He was a police officer, after all, and he was better-equipped to face up to these unpleasant facts. I would just do what sleuthing I could handle and help out with whatever he needed. Oh, and I would try my hardest not to let my silly crush on him distract me too much. Although, knowing that we had a date tonight definitely made that goal a little bit more difficult.
“Focus, Artemis,” I told myself out loud as I neared the police station. “Eyes on the prize. There will be plenty of time to daydream about Xander’s cute butt later.”
Pulling up to the building I came to a stop, sliding off the broom and setting it gently against the brick wall. My stomach was already twisting into knots at the thought of seeing Xander. Talking to him. Being close to him. Yeesh, I was already turning into a lovestruck teenager again, and this was absolutely not the time for it. I closed my eyes and took a slow, deep breath, reminding myself to be cool. Act naturally.
I pushed open the front entrance to the station and strolled in, looking around. There was no one in sight, and I was surprised at how quiet it was. I realized that this probably meant Morgan Forsetti was not in the building at the moment. I heaved a sigh of relief. I didn’t have anything against Morgan, per se, but I knew she was a little uptight about my involvement in these cases, and she probably would not be especially pleased to find out just how involved I was in the Tina Frost situation. I assumed Xander was still trying to keep our collaboration under wraps to some extent, just to avoid stepping on Morgan’s toes and causing some big dramatic upset that might detract from the case at hand.
“Hello?” I called out. “Xander?”
I heard the soft thudding of footsteps down a hallway to my left, and a door creaked open. I glanced over to see Xander poking his head out. He smiled and beckoned for me to come over to him. “Hey Arti. Glad you could come down here on such short notice. Come on in. There’s something in here I need to show you,” he said.
My heart skipped a beat, as it often did when Xander spoke to me, but I quieted my annoying tell-tale heart and walked down the hall to step into the little room. It wasn’t his office, but a conference room of some sort. A big rectangular table took up most of the space, surrounded by some chairs, all pointing toward the big board mounted on the wall. It wasn’
t quite a dry-erase board or a chalkboard, more like a gigantic swath of stylized scroll paper with a bunch of glimmering words and pictures on it, almost like a collage. Like a puzzle. Every word and image on the scroll seemed to shimmer and wiggle ever so slightly, like they were alive. It was a magical display, a sort of mystical PowerPoint presentation that could be controlled with a wave of one’s fingers.
Right now, up on the screen was a large image of a man’s mug shot. Apart from the unflattering lighting and straightforward angle of the shot, though, the man looked incredibly, totally normal. He wore a wry smile on his rather handsome, regular-Joe face. High cheekbones, clean-shaven cheeks and jawline, brown eyes, and dark blond hair slicked back in a sleek, business-executive-esque style. He looked like he might have stepped right out of some Wall Street high-rise office, like he could be carrying a briefcase full of stock market graphs and sales contracts. In other words, he didn’t look like the kind of guy whose mug shot one would see plastered on a police board here in Moonlight Cove. Unless he was being arrested for insurance fraud or some other kind of white collar crime people got prosecuted for in the big cities.
But out here? In remote Moonlight Cove? Why?
Xander seemed to pick up on how confused I looked, and he spoke up. “This is George Frigga. Moonlight Cove native who lived out east for some time before returning to live here in an apartment downtown. He even works at a restaurant a block over from his place. He’s blended back in pretty seamlessly, which I’m sure was exactly his plan. But he didn’t come back to his hometown out of some sentimentality. He came back because he’s wanted for statutory rape back in Illinois, and he’s been trying to escape those charges,” he said matter-of-factly. Xander snapped his fingers, and instantly the guy’s rap sheet appeared on the scroll next to his face.
My eyes widened and I turned to look at him. “Wow. And he came back here?”
Xander nodded. “Yes. He’s in town. Stuck here like the rest of us. When you gave me that info earlier, I wracked my brain and decided to contact some folks I know out of state to see if I could find any guy who might match the details: a guy from here who spent time away, who would have a record. You know how it is here. Moonlight Cove is a small town. Relatively isolated. People don’t come and go all that often. I drafted up a list of about twenty people and cross-referenced it with my contacts out of state. Mr. Frigga here is the result of that search.”
“And you think he’s the one? The guy who took Tina Frost?” I asked, my heart racing.
“Maybe. But that’s why you and I are going downtown to have a chat with him. Intel told me he’s working his shift as a cook. We’re going to surprise him there. See what he has to say about those charges back in Illinois. I’m thinking this might be enough to startle him into admitting something,” he suggested.
“My moon,” I said under my breath, shaking my head. “Real police business, huh?”
Xander smiled and put on his coat, gesturing for me to follow him out. “Yep.”
I hurried after him, out of the building and into the cool air. We both mounted our brooms and I drifted alongside him as he led the way. During the ride, I couldn’t help but steal glances at him every now and again. He was so annoyingly handsome that it was easy to almost forget about the serious stuff we were about to do here. I was glad that he hadn’t mentioned our date yet - clearly I was in no position to handle that kind of tension at the moment. At least, not until after we got finished interrogating a hardened criminal.
We arrived at a little Italian place called Presto Pesto, a small restaurant in a historic block of brick buildings downtown. Outside, a flashing neon sign with the name arched over an image of a wand twirling spaghetti around itself out of a bowl invited us in. We set our brooms against the exterior wall and walked in, the door chiming as we stepped through. Inside, several small tables with red tablecloths hosted pairs of customers chatting animatedly over plates of spaghetti and gnocchi. A delicious smell of basil, red wine, and garlic floated in the air that I would have bottled and worn as perfume if it were possible and, you know, socially acceptable to do so. In the background the soft sound of Italian music completed the ambiance.
A perky young lady in a red apron came up to us with a bright smile. “Table for two?” she asked cheerily. I blushed instantly, remembering that later tonight we were supposed to do this for real. But Xander simply flashed his badge, making the young woman’s smile fade instantly.
“Oh. Um, what can I do for you, officer?” she asked quietly, her eyes darting around.
“Relax,” Xander said softly. “You’re not in any trouble, miss. Can you tell me where to find George Frigga?”
“George? Oh, he works in the back. He’s a line cook. Just through there, you’ll find the kitchen,” she said, pointing to a set of double doors at the back of the room.
“Thank you,” Xander told her with a smile. I followed after him as we made our way back to the kitchen. It was kind of exhilarating being able to just walk in and boss people around like this. Certainly easier than trying to sneak around like I usually did when I needed to seek out information.
We stepped through the double doors and straight into a scene of pure pandemonium. It was as if the back of the restaurant was exactly as chaotic as the front was peaceful. Everyone was working at breakneck speed, using both traditional by-hand techniques alongside magical quick-work. Tomatoes, onions, and bulbs of garlic floated through the air. There were splatters of red sauce on the walls here and there. The massive sink in the back overflowed with mountains of shiny bubbles while the young man washing dishes muttered incantations to streamline the chore with magic. And one of the cooks looked familiar - the same slicked-back hair and excellent posture that one would expect from a put-together, upstanding example of a citizen.
George Frigga. He had his back to us, but I knew it was him. Xander and I exchanged nods and then silently walked over to him.
“Excuse me,” Xander said. “Mr. Frigga?”
George tore his eyes away from the sauce simmering on the unit in front of him, looking annoyed. When it dawned on him that Xander was a cop, he tilted his head back and groaned.
“Really? Here? Can’t you see I’m working?” he said grumpily.
Xander raised an eyebrow. “Yes. We can see that. It’s wonderful that you’ve managed to integrate back into society so well after serving time for that charge against you back in Illinois. Oh wait - you never did your time for that, did you?”
George went from annoyed to petrified. He stepped away from the stove, and immediately the cook beside him took over. “Fine. What do you want now?” he asked in an undertone as we retreated to a relatively quiet corner of the busy kitchen.
“We want to talk to you about what happened in Illinois,” Xander said.
“And ask you about a more recent event here in Moonlight Cove,” I added.
George looked taken aback. “Okay,” he said suspiciously. “What do you want to know?”
“You could start with explaining what happened regarding the statutory rape charge in Illinois,” Xander said. George’s eyes widened and he glanced around nervously.
“Shh!” he hissed. “My god, keep your voice down. I need this job, man.”
“Then you’d better start talking,” I said, surprising myself with how fierce I sounded.
George sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, then began to speak in a low voice. “My girlfriend… she was younger than me.”
“Yes. The charge makes that abundantly clear,” Xander said icily. George glared at him.
“Not a lot younger than me. Just a couple years. I was nineteen, she was seventeen. It was consensual. All of it. I loved her and she loved me,” he said defensively. “But her parents didn’t feel the same way. They hated me. And then my girlfriend, well, she got pregnant. I told her to keep it a secret because I knew her parents would be angry, but she couldn’t keep it quiet. She went to them and told them about the baby. Of course, her parents
went ballistic. They went to the police to accuse me. It was just a ploy to get us to break up, to keep me away from her. All I did was love her, and now I’m stuck with this ridiculous charge hanging over me.”
“If you loved her so much then why did you run away and come back here?” I asked pointedly. I knew it was kind of a low blow, but I picked up on the fact that Xander was subtly egging the guy on, pushing his buttons to get him to talk.
He scoffed. “Don’t you judge me, lady. I left because I wasn’t about to go to jail for something I didn’t do. Besides, it’s not like her parents or the cops would have let me anywhere near her after that. I had no choice.”
“Okay. That’ll do. Enough about Illinois. Now we need to ask you about something else. Where were you this morning, George?” Xander queried.
The suspect looked confused. “Today? Why?”
I nodded. “Yes, today. Can you account for your whereabouts between the hours of six and eight in the morning?” Admittedly I felt pretty cool saying that, like I was a slick big city detective on some police procedural television show.
He scratched at his chin, thinking about it. Then he shrugged. “I was at home.”
“With whom?” Xander asked.
George sighed. “Nobody. Just me.”
“So you were home alone all morning? Until what time?” I pressed him.
“Until nine, when I left for work.”
“This place opens at nine?” Xander quipped dubiously.
“No. Eleven. But we get here early to do prep work,” George retorted. “Ask anyone. I was here. On the dot.”
“Too bad we don’t have anyone to verify that you were at home up until then,” said Xander sharply.
“Look, man. I don’t know what to tell you. I live alone. I haven’t dated anyone since I left Illinois. I’m sure you can figure out why,” he snapped.
Xander stared at him hard for a few moments, just sizing him up. Then he said, “Alright. You can go back to work now. Thank you for your time, Mr. Frigga.”
A Perfect Spell Page 7
