C is for Crow: The A B C's of Witchery (Moonbeam Chronicles Book 3)

by Carolina Mac

  “Maybe he was more prominent in cases three and four,” said Farrell. “You have to read all the interviews to get the whole picture.”

  “Uh huh. I’ll read the next two cases tomorrow, then make a plan of action. When it’s time to go talk to Vince, I’m taking Sonny. I think he’ll be helpful nailing the killer down.”

  “How?” asked Farrell. “How can the dog help?”

  “Wouldn’t one serial killer pick up vibes from another one?” I asked.

  “Never heard of it happening, but I guess it’s not impossible. When you go on your field trip, I want to go with you.”

  “Uh huh. You’re supposed to go with me when it’s time for the bust. That’s the way the Chief and I discussed it. I do all the ground work and then you and I go make an arrest.”

  “I guess he didn’t get around to telling me that little detail yet.”

  “Maybe he forgot,” I said. “He’s busy keeping an eye on all the Texas Rangers in the State.”

  “Yep, that would take some doing.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Wednesday, November 11th.

  Nine Hemlock Way. Elgin.

  “I’m not letting Jody interfere in my case until after Misty talks to him, Moon. He shouldn’t be privy to case details if he’s just a nosy neighbor.”

  “That’s what he seems to be,” said Moonbeam. “He wouldn’t have so much time on his hands, if he had a job.” She placed a plate of poached eggs and toast in front of me and I was grateful for her skill in the kitchen and her willingness to keep me on track.

  “Can I have some toast?” asked Pete. His big head was always on my knee begging for people food.

  “A lot of bread isn’t good for your digestion, sugar. You’re a carnivore.”

  “Then why are you giving me kibbles?”

  I shrugged and asked Moon. “Why are we giving him kibbles?”

  “There’s a big picture of a dog on the bag and he looks like you, Pete. That’s why.”

  “Yeah, that’s why,” I said. “Live with it.”

  I was settled in the dining room getting into case number three when the doorbell rang. I groaned. “No visitors. I’m working.”

  “Stay there and keep working,” said Moon. “I’ll get the door.”

  From where I sat in the dining room, I couldn’t see the front door or the foyer, but I could hear Cynthia talking to Moonbeam.

  Nuts. I don’t want her here.

  On her way to the kitchen, Cynthia stuck her head in the dining room. “I baked your boyfriend a cherry pie, Gillette. I won’t disturb your work.”

  You already did.

  “Thank you.” I gave her a little wave and she kept going.

  Trying to tune out the chatter in the kitchen I dove into case number three. Kerry Lynn Saunders. Tall, slim with long auburn hair. She lived in a trailer park near McCamey, Texas. Her body was found in the Pecos River a week after she went missing from Cactus Joe’s Roadhouse a mile from the trailer park.

  She had been sexually assaulted and the cause of death was manual strangulation.

  The MO’s on these cases were carbon copies and so were the victims. So identical it was scary. The killer was methodical and precise. He wasn’t wavering in any way from having a perfect kill.

  All of the interviews were similar, and the police had nothing to go on but the undeniable presence of Harrison Paving in all four crimes. The local sheriff had done a diligent job of talking to every member of the paving crew—including Vince Agostino—and got nothing. None of the paving boys knew a thing about Kerry Lynn Saunders. Or so they said.

  “Holy fuck,” I hollered, having a momentary lapse and forgetting Cynthia was droning on in the kitchen.

  Moonbeam came running in. “Are you okay, dear?”

  “We’ll discuss it later, Moon.” I stood up and picked up my empty cup. “I’ll get a refill and say hi to Cynthia before I start the next one.”

  “Did you have a breakthrough?”

  “In a way.” I winked at her and followed her to the kitchen. “Hi, Cynthia. Sorry I have to work today. I’m on a new case and I’m swamped with reading.”

  “I understand. When I had my décor business, I was always like that—running myself ragged most days. It can be exhausting.”

  “So true.” I filled my mug and added extra cream for energy.

  “Where’s our handsome neighbor, Jody, this morning?”

  “He’s at home, I guess. You should call on him. He likes company.”

  “I should have made him a pie too. A young bachelor like him. He probably doesn’t eat properly.”

  “I’m not sure what he eats. He did devour your coffee cake when he was here the other day.” I smiled and headed back to work.

  Case number four: Justine Wilkins from Lometa, Texas. Nineteen years old, tall, slim auburn-haired girl. Exactly like the others. This killer didn’t deviate in any way.

  She lived in a double-wide trailer with her grandmother near the highway the road crew had been working on. Route one ninety. Her body had been found a week after she went missing. She had been tossed into the Saba River near San Saba.

  Everything else was the same. Justine frequented the local roadhouse where the construction crew hung out. Several of her friends knew the guys by name after drinking and dancing with them for two weeks that summer.

  I reread the interview with Justine’s bestie, Cath Oliver and tried to imagine being there.

  Deputy Perez: “How well did you and Justine know Vince Agostino?”

  Cath Oliver: “Pretty well. He came to the Angry Dog most nights and hung out with his friends. He was friendly and danced with us. Vince was tanned and hunky. All my friends wanted to dance with him.”

  Deputy Perez: “Did any of your friends do more than dance with Vince or any of the other construction guys?”

  Cath Oliver: “You mean like hook up out in their trucks or something like that?”

  Deputy Perez: “Exactly like that.”

  Cath Oliver: “Maybe. I didn’t make out with Vince, although I would have if he asked me, but I fooled around with a couple of the other guys. They were all nice guys.”

  “All but one,” I said out loud. “Was it Vince? If it was, he’s got it down, just like Sonny did and he’s going to be hard as hell to catch.”

  “Can you break for lunch, dear?” called Moonbeam. “Misty is here with Forest.”

  I ran to the kitchen to give Misty a hug. “I didn’t hear you come in. I was concentrating so hard on my new case.”

  Misty smiled, her long silvery hair sparkling. “It’s good to see you so happy, Gillette. Chief Calhoun is pleased to have you back.”

  “Did he say so?”

  “He did.”

  Misty sat down at the kitchen table and Moonbeam poured her a glass of red wine. “I just came from Jody’s house next door. We had a long talk and I think he might be useful to us.”

  “In what way? He keeps asking me if he’s getting paid. All he thinks about is money.”

  “That little quirk annoyed me too.” Misty smiled. “I fixed that. He won’t mention money anymore and he’ll be anxious to work for the greater good.”

  “How did you do that?”

  “I have my ways.” Misty giggled.

  Forest pointed out the patio door at Zing sitting on the back of one of the patio chairs. “Crow, Mommy.”

  “That is a crow. Uh huh.”

  “That’s Zing. She’s a talking crow. Want to give her a treat?”

  Forest nodded his head. He had long black hair and coppery skin like his father.

  “Come on, Forest. You can say hello to Zing and give her a treat.”

  Moonbeam pointed to the little glass jar on the counter. I took three treats out and opened the sliding door for Forest. I helped the little guy onto the patio, fearing he would trip over the sliding door track. He was only a toddler.

  Zing flapped her wings nervously when she saw a stranger coming towards her. A very small str
anger. I reached out to stroke her feathers and calm her. “Don’t be afraid, Zing. Forest wants to give you a treat.”

  Caw.

  Forest jumped when Zing cawed.

  “Don’t be afraid of Zing. She won’t hurt you. Hold the treat like this and let her take it in her beak.”

  Forest watched and offered the treat to Zing the same way I did. She took it gently from his tiny fingers and he smiled.

  “I think she likes you.”

  Misty finished her wine and left to drive back to the city and I went back to work. It wasn’t long before I had another interruption. Jody wandered over to tell me about his talk with Misty and his new position as my assistant.

  With a big grin on his face, he plunked down on a dining room chair. “I’m your new PA, Gilly. That means personal assistant. Never been one of those before. First time for everything.”

  “Ain’t that the truth. You seem happy about it. You must be getting paid or you wouldn’t be doing it.”

  “I am on the payroll now, but money isn’t everything, Gilly. We’re working to scoop bad guys off the street and put them away. That’s what’s important and that’s what I’m focusing on.”

  Misty put a spell on him.

  “You nailed it, Jody. You can start tomorrow.”

  “Thanks, boss. Can’t wait to grab me a serial killer.”

  Pete growled under the table and I didn’t blame him. I felt like growling too. The last thing I wanted was a personal assistant named Jody.

  I sighed after Jody left hoping Misty had made the right move hiring him. I guess the proof would be in the pudding. That’s what Mama always said.

  I tidied up my notes and headed to the fridge to get a beer. “Farrell will be here soon, Moon.”

  She was talking on the phone and didn’t hear me. “Rufin is coming tomorrow to pick up his bike.”

  “Why didn’t he call me? Now he can’t even talk to me? I am so pissed off with that jerkwad.”

  Moonbeam smiled. “Maybe that’s why he called me instead.”

  I chugged down half my Coors. “Yep. Probably the reason. He’s avoiding me at all costs. You’re the smart one, Moon.”

  Farrell came for dinner and afterwards I filled him in on the third and fourth cases.

  “Has to be the same guy. The victims and the MO all match perfectly.”

  “Only one difference,” I said. “Karen Vanderland—victim number one—is the only girl who’s body wasn’t found. I checked the closest river to Ballinger and it’s the Colorado.”

  “I wonder if they’ve fished any Jane Does out of the Colorado farther downstream. It has a dandy current in some sections.”

  “Could you check on that for us?”

  “Yep, doing it.” He called Blaine at the Agency and had him check into it. “He’ll know in a while and call us back.”

  “Fantastic,” I said. “I want to go to Junction where Harrison Paving are working right now and watch Vince operate.”

  “I’m off Friday and Saturday. We’ll drive out there on Friday and get a room in the same motel the crew are staying in.”

  “That’s a great idea. I so want to do that.”

  Farrell winked at me. “You’re a born sleuth, Gilly. I’m so proud of you.”

  “Thanks. I’ll make sure you’re rewarded properly.”

  About an hour later we were having coffee on the patio with Moonbeam when Blaine called Farrell back.

  “You found a body? Where? Under the bridge south of Rockwood. Is that near Ballinger? About forty miles. Okay. Yep. The description is right. Yep. Do that, bro.”

  Farrell ended the call. “Blacky is having the Jane Doe moved to our morgue in Austin. The height is right but there’s a lot of water damage to the corpse. She may be unrecognizable.”

  “But we could get a DNA match if her parents agreed,” I said. “They may want to know for sure if it’s her and bury their daughter properly.”

  “If they’ve been waiting this long, they’ll agree,” said Farrell. “They don’t want it to be her, but yet they have to know for sure.”

  “Heartbreaking for the family.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Thursday, November 12th.

  Nine Hemlock Way. Elgin.

  Moonbeam and I had a lovely quiet breakfast, just the way we liked it. Nervous about Rufin’s impending arrival, I didn’t have much to say and Moon picked up on my tension.

  “Are you upset Rufin is coming, dear?”

  Moon could read me like a Marvel comic.

  “Not somebody I want to see. I’m just getting my shit back together after our last encounter.”

  “Perhaps he won’t stay long.”

  “To be hoped. I’ll work until he gets here. It will take him most of the day from New Orleans.”

  “Unless he spent the night halfway,” said Moonbeam. Always the logical one. “Then he’ll be here in the early afternoon.”

  The doorbell rang and I startled. “He can’t be here already.”

  “No, he can’t.” Moonbeam jumped to her feet and pointed me in the right direction. “Hide in the dining room and I’ll see who it is.”

  I grabbed my coffee and beat it into the dining room where my laptop was set up from yesterday. I intended to find out where the Harrison Paving crew were staying in Junction and book a room in the same motel.

  Maybe Jody can find out the name of the motel if he’s as good at hacking as he thinks he is.

  I checked my watch wondering what time Jody was going to start his new career as my personal assistant. “He’ll probably set his own hours,” I mumbled to myself. “Wouldn’t be surprised.”

  “Cynthia’s here for coffee, dear. We’ll be in the kitchen.”

  Fuck. The day has gone to hell before nine a. fuckin m.

  Pete growled and ran to the patio doors barking.

  “That’s Jody. The gang’s all here.”

  Not quite. Witch-boy will be next.

  My hands were trembling as I wrapped both of them around my mug and forced myself to slurp down a gulp of caffeine.

  “Morning, boss.” Jody breezed in and plunked his laptop down on the opposite side of the table. “I looked to see if our neighbor brought us any baking, but she didn’t. I guess today we go hungry.”

  “I don’t feel sorry for you, Jody, if that’s what you’re going for. Fill a bowl with fuckin cereal and eat it for chrissakes.”

  “What’s that they say about grumpy bosses?”

  “How the hell would I know? Do your job and the smile will never leave my face.”

  “What am I starting on, boss?”

  “Junction, Texas. Find out which motel is hosting the crew of Harrison Paving and let me know. I need that info right away.”

  “We going there, boss?”

  “I’m going there, Jody, with Farrell. I haven’t decided if you’ll be useful in the field.”

  “You have no idea how useful I can be in a field.”

  “Humorous, but I’m not in the mood. Get hacking.”

  At noon, Moonbeam called us to the kitchen to eat our tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. We had worked non-stop without too much chatter and I was pleased when Jody found the Harrison Paving crew holed up at the Lazy Jay Motel in Junction.

  Acknowledging how diligently he had worked all morning, I caved and booked two rooms instead of one for Friday and Saturday nights.

  After lunch, I set Jody on reading the case files so he would have a grip on what we were up against. He was silent for two solid hours before the doorbell made him turn his head.

  “Rufin,” I mumbled. “He’s here to pick up his bike from my garage.”

  “You guys break up?”

  “Nothing to break,” I snapped at Jody without meaning to. “He was here to train me and we were never a couple. Nothing else.”

  Jody chuckled and I wanted to throat punch him. “Didn’t look like that to me. I saw the way you undressed him with your eyes.”

  “Shut up, Jodes.”
I jumped up and headed to the front door to face the music.

  My heart thumped twice and almost stopped beating when I saw Charlotte with her mop of blue hair standing sooo close to Ruf. Her arm was looped through Rufin’s arm and she was practically humping his leg.

  “Hi,” was all I said until I calmed myself down and could speak again. “Jody can help you load your bike.”

  “Thanks,” said Rufin. “I borrowed a truck.”

  We all headed out to my garage attached to the west end of my rancher. I raised the door and flicked on the light.

  Jody began babbling to Rufin about his ordeal when the warlocks came, tied him up and stole his identity. It sounded like Jody was partially blaming Rufin for his suffering and I agreed, in part. Rufin was supposed to know what was going on and offer us protection. When Ruf saw all the warlock look-alikes following us to West Virginia, he should have trigged in and sent Misty to check on Jody days sooner than he did.

  “Sorry,” said Rufin. “We didn’t realize you were tied up when all that was going on. We were in West Virginia at the time.”

  Jody’s expression told me he wasn’t in a forgiving mood.

  Why didn’t Jody shift and kill the warlocks? That made no sense to me.

  “It all worked out,” said Jody, “and it got me this gig working for Gillette. Misty hired me and I’m Gillette’s new partner now that you’ve moved on.”

  “Helper,” I said, “not partner. The only partner I have is Farrell. He’s my life partner.” I gave Rufin the stink-eye.

  Rufin gave me a look in return and I turned my head. I didn’t owe him anything, and I sure as hell didn’t owe Miss Blue hair anything. Not even the time of day.

  After the bike was secured in the back of the borrowed pickup, Moonbeam bridged the awkward conversation gap. “Y’all drove a long way. Would you care for coffee and a snack? I believe we have coffee cake.”

  “Thank you for the offer, Moonbeam,” said Rufin, “but we’ll eat somewhere on the way back.”