A Catastrophic Theft

by P. D. Workman

“Oh, right. No, you can wear what you like. I don’t believe you’re a witch, so you probably don’t have ceremonial dress.”

  “No.”

  “Just come in your regular clothes.”

  Reg nodded. She couldn’t help looking back at the handsome warlock, thinking about him without his ceremonial dress, which she was sure made her blush more than he had. What was it with the warlocks looking so ruggedly handsome. Was it a spell? A potion? Warlock face cream?

  “So I can expect to see you there?” Dave Smith asked.

  “Yes. I’ll come.” Reg scowled. “I don’t really want to testify, but I want to see him get what he deserves for what he did to me.”

  The warlock’s eyes slid away from her and he nodded. “Did you have any other questions? Anything I can do for you?”

  Reg leaned against the doorframe, relaxing a bit. “You’re the leader of Corvin’s coven? Aren’t you pretty… young for that? You look younger than he is.”

  “Appearances can be deceiving. I’m not.”

  “Oh.” Reg waited for more details, but nothing was forthcoming. She assumed he meant that he was not younger than Corvin, rather than that he was not the leader of the coven. It seemed strange that someone so young could be the leader of the coven, when the leader of Sarah’s coven was a mature woman in her sixties or seventies. Dave Smith looked to be thirty, tops. “Well… I guess I’ll see you at the hearing, then.”

  He reached into his pocket and came out with a business card held between his index and middle finger, which he held out to her. “My details, in case you should wish to reach me by a method other than avian.”

  Reg looked at it, but wasn’t sure she should take anything from him. “If you use modern technology, then what was with the bird delivery and calligraphy?”

  “Err… it’s traditional.” Dave Smith shifted.

  “Kind of showy, isn’t it? When you could have just sent me an email?”

  “Maybe a little,” he admitted.

  Reg considered, feeling out his discomfort and analyzing it. “Maybe the whole point is intimidation. You want people to feel anxious about it. Same with calling it a tribunal. You’re trying to make it sound like some big, scary thing.”

  “This is something that is very important to us. The consequences could be far-reaching not just for Corvin, but for the community. It’s very serious.”

  Reg remembered Corvin telling her about disciplinary actions that could be taken against witches and warlocks. In serious cases, they could be bound, which meant that not only were their powers taken out of the community, but that the community had to expend power in holding them. She nodded slowly. “Yeah, okay. I get it.”

  He wiggled the business card, encouraging her to take it. Reg considered it warily.

  “Leave it in the mailbox,” she said, nodding to the mailbox affixed to the outside of the cottage. She had never used it; if she got any mail, Sarah would simply leave it on the kitchen counter.

  Dave Smith didn’t move at first, then he nodded and deposited it into the box as requested. “You’re very careful.”

  “I’m learning. I don’t want to do something stupid. If there’s some kind of spell on that card and I bring it into the house…”

  “There isn’t.”

  “So you say. I’ve been lied to before.”

  “I’m guessing a ‘nice to meet you’ handshake is out of the question.”

  “You guess correctly.”

  He still didn’t leave. “You know you can’t judge all warlocks by the actions of one or two.”

  “I’ll have to meet a few more before I can make that decision.”

  She knew by the look on his face that he was going to ask her out. He’d make some lame come-on like, “Why don’t you join me for dinner, and I’ll show you what nice guys warlocks can be?” And she’d turn him down, and then he’d be angry at her and more likely to side with Corvin at the hearing.

  He turned away abruptly. “I’m sorry to have taken up your time, Miss Rawlins. I’ll see you at the tribunal.”

  She watched him until he was out of sight, then shut the door. She left his business card in her mailbox. She wasn’t touching it until Sarah or someone else had a good look at it.

  ⋆ Chapter Five ⋆

  R

  eg expected a visit from Sarah later in the day, telling her that she had found the necklace or giving her an update on the police investigation. But the hours passed and Reg dealt with clients and her email and advertising, and she still heard nothing from the witch.

  She made herself a tuna fish sandwich, splitting the tuna with Starlight. While it wasn’t a gourmet meal, she wasn’t particularly interested in Sarah’s stew, and it was at least healthier than ordering fast food yet again. She’d put on a few pounds since she’d arrived at Black Sands and she didn’t want to get fat.

  She had no evening clients, which meant that she could watch a few shows on TV and get to bed early, something she really needed following the seance the night before. She was really looking forward to the extra hours of sleep.

  She would have gotten it if it hadn’t been for that stupid cat.

  The phone rang, and Reg looked at it blearily for a few minutes before picking it up and answering it.

  “Hello?”

  “It’s Detective Jessup. I was wondering if I could set up a time to come by and talk to you today.”

  Reg grunted.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Is this about the knife? I don’t know that I can do any more for you than I already have. And I kind of promised Sarah that I’d look for her emerald when I got my strength back.”

  “It isn’t about the knife.”

  “Is it another job? I promised Sarah—”

  “Can we set up a time, Reg?”

  Reg stopped cold. Jessup’s refusal to answer her question and her terse response set alarm bells ringing. Jessup wasn’t stopping by for a casual visit or to ask a favor. Had someone reported Reg? Accused her of providing fraudulent services or some other perceived violation? She hadn’t yet applied for a business license, which she should probably do, though she didn’t like having her name on public records like that. Reg’s brain went into high gear, trying to anticipate what the issue was.

  “Is it something we could just discuss on the phone? We could get it over with right now…”

  “How about two o’clock?” Jessup asked. “Will you be home?”

  “Yes… I’ll be here.”

  “Good. I’ll see you then.”

  There was a double-beep indicating that Jessup had terminated the call. Reg looked at the phone in disbelief, then dropped it onto the mattress beside her. Starlight pushed his face into Reg’s, purring loudly.

  “Don’t you try being all lovey-dovey with me,” Reg growled, pushing him back away from her face. “I’m still mad at you.”

  He meowed, jumped off the bed, and headed out the door and toward the bathroom, looking back at her over his shoulder as if trying to prod her into following her usual wake-up-bathroom-feed-cat routine.

  “Forget it. You kept me awake half the night. I’m not getting up yet. You can eat your kibble if you’re hungry.”

  He yowled mournfully, sitting in the hallway and looking back at her.

  “Cry all you like. It’s your own fault.”

  Although she really didn’t want him to start crying again. He’d been at it for hours the previous night, howling and voicing his distress, pacing back and forth across the house, peering out windows and then jumping up on the bed to talk to her again.

  Reg remembered the way that Erin had described the vocal renditions of her cat, Orange Blossom. Reg hadn’t believed that he could possibly have been as loud as Erin described him. Waking up the neighbors and having them call in noise complaints? She had been sure it was an exaggeration. But Starlight’s cries the night before had been unnerving. More than once she had gotten out of bed and turned on the light to check him out and make sure he was not
sick or hurt. He just continued to pace around the windows howling.

  Shutting her door hadn’t helped. She could still hear him through it. She had tried shutting him in the bathroom and shutting her door, hoping that he’d calm down when he couldn’t keep pacing around the cottage, but he hadn’t calmed down. She’d tried to wait him out like a parent letting a baby cry it out, but he hadn’t stopped and she could hear him clawing at the door, trying to get out. She didn’t want to have to sand down and refinish the door, so she let him out again, and he renewed his pacing and crying.

  Apparently, once the sun was up, whatever had been bothering him had passed, and he was back to his normal self again, ready to have breakfast and start the regular routine. But Reg hadn’t gotten the sleep she needed and she didn’t have any morning appointments, so she was going to sleep, at least until Sarah showed up to go through her usual routine of checking Reg’s cupboards and fridge, writing down any appointments she had happened to make, and whatever other mothering she was determined to do.

  When Sarah got there, Reg would get up.

  When noon rolled around and Sarah still hadn’t put in an appearance, Reg decided she’d better stop being lazy and get ready for the day. She’d been awake for some time, playing on her phone and refusing to get out of bed just on principle. But noon was the bright line she couldn’t cross. At that point she had to get up, admit to herself that for once Sarah wasn’t going to come and check in on her, and it was time to get down to business herself.

  Starlight was curled up on a chair in the living room sulking about Reg not getting up to feed him as he had trained her to do. When she walked into the kitchen to make some tea, she saw that his food bowl was empty, something that had never happened before. She immediately felt guilty. He’d eaten all of the dry kibble and had been left with nothing to eat. She’d always heard that cats were supposed to have food available throughout the day to graze on whenever they wanted to. The empty bowl made her feel negligent, like a mother who’d forgotten to feed her child for a day or two.

  She looked over at Starlight, who was watching her through one open eye. Her emotional reaction to his empty bowl seemed overblown, and she wondered if he was feeding her emotions, making her feel worse than she would have if she didn’t have a psychic connection with him. She masked her emotions and trickled some more kibble into his bowl without calling him or making a fuss over it. Just routine, like he cleaned his bowl out every day and she wasn’t at all concerned. Starlight continued to watch her for a few moments. Then he closed his one eye and rolled over, turning his back to her.

  Obviously, he wasn’t starving.

  There was no mail on her counter. Either she hadn’t received anything, or Sarah hadn’t felt up to bringing it around to her. She’d have to go up to the house to ask later on. Maybe offer to help Sarah look for the emerald and see if there was anything else she could do. She had thought that Sarah would have found the necklace and recovered from her upset within a few hours, but apparently that had not happened.

  Since there was no mail, community flyers, or newspaper to read, Reg pulled out her phone and tapped through a news site, checking to see whether anything interesting was happening in the world. Or at least in Black Sands.

  Nothing jumped out at her. No news, really, just rehashes of ongoing issues. She tapped on a morning show and watched it while she waited for the tea kettle to boil. She read the headlines for upcoming segments, again seeing nothing very interesting. Filler. Just crappy filler. She supposed she should be happy about that. No plane crashes, no horrific crimes that she might be consulted about. Just puff pieces.

  The kettle started to whistle. Reg poured the hot water into her cup, only half-watching what she was doing, her other eye on the small phone screen as the hosts joked around and introduced the next segment.

  It was a piece on teen poverty and homelessness, an issue that always grabbed Reg’s attention. She’d seen street life first-hand. She’d pulled herself out of that, like few managed to do, and she’d found ways to make a life for herself. It never lasted for long. Something else would always come along and pull her down again, but she was determined to succeed somehow. Erin seemed to have done it. Despite having faced police scrutiny more than once, her business seemed to be thriving.

  Erin seemed happy in Bald Eagle Falls, somewhere Reg would never have been able to stay more than a couple of weeks. Where Black Sands had a welcoming community of witches and mediums and other paranormal folk, Bald Eagle Falls had the Bible belt and all kinds of Christian prejudices against things that fell outside the norm.

  Reg focused on the screen, trying to listen to what the reporter was saying. He was interviewing a young woman who apparently worked with one of the agencies providing services to youth. Reg squinted at the screen.

  Hot water flowed over the edge of the counter, spattering her feet. Reg yelped and swore and put the kettle down. She had filled her cup to overflowing, distracted by the news show. She danced back out of the way of the pooling water, and looked back at the screen.

  She knew that woman. She’d seen her somewhere before, but couldn’t place her.

  ⋆ Chapter Six ⋆

  R

  eg had lazed in bed until noon, so the two o’clock appointment with Detective Jessup rolled around pretty quickly. She kept an eye on the front window, wanting to be aware of when Jessup approached instead of being surprised by her knock on the door. Starlight seemed to pick up on Reg’s nervousness and was looking around alertly, his ears swiveling this way and that as he listened to the little sounds that Reg couldn’t even hear.

  “Maybe she won’t come,” Reg said. “Cops get called to emergencies all the time. They’re always having to reschedule because something more important came up. That’s the way the world works. They have to take care of whatever’s a priority right at the minute. And if something else came up, she’d have to take care of it…”

  Starlight studied her for a moment as if to tell her that she was babbling, so she shut up. He was right. She was just telling herself lies, trying to put off the moment of truth. She looked out the window again and saw Jessup walking down the sidewalk toward the door. She took a deep breath, steeled herself, and walked to the door. She opened it before Jessup had a chance to knock. She hoped that took the wind out of her sails a little bit. But Jessup nodded. She didn’t smile in greeting or act surprised that Reg was watching for her. She walked into the house without an invitation.

  “Thanks for seeing me.”

  “I didn’t think I had much choice.”

  “You always have the choice of whether to talk to the police or not.”

  Reg shook her head. “Sure didn’t feel like it.”

  Jessup sat down on one of the living room chairs. “Do I need to inform you of your rights?”

  Reg stared. “What?”

  “You are aware of your rights?”

  “Am I a suspect?”

  “This is just an investigation. Trying to get the facts straight. No one is being arrested.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question.”

  Jessup took out her notepad and flipped it open to a fresh page. “You have the right to have an attorney present.”

  “Are you giving me Miranda?”

  “I’m… reminding you that you have rights if you want to exercise them.”

  Reg sat silently for a moment, considering that. “I… I guess I’ll hear what you have to say, and then I’ll decide. I don’t have anyone.”

  “If you need a recommendation, you can call the state bar. You can also have an attorney appointed to you for free.”

  “Yeah. I know. Go ahead and say what you’re going to say. What’s this all about?”

  Jessup scribbled with her pen to get the ink flowing, not meeting Reg’s eyes.

  “You are aware of Sarah’s lost necklace.”

  “Yes. I figured she would have found it by now. I honestly didn’t think that anyone really stole it. Maybe it slipped
down behind a dresser. She’s got a big house. It could be a lot of places.”

  “I had hoped that it would turn up on its own,” Jessup admitted, “but it hasn’t… and we need to proceed with the investigation and act on the assumption that it may, in fact, have been stolen.”

  “So this is about the necklace?”

  Jessup looked her in the eye. “Yes.”

  Reg met Jessup’s gaze and didn’t waver. She counted the seconds and looked away at the appropriate point. No one liked a staring contest. But the connection had to last long enough for Jessup to be sure that Reg was being open and honest with her. It took fine tuning and lots of practice to get it right.

  Jessup gave a little nod. Confirmation to herself as to what she had seen.

  “What do you think happened to the necklace?” she asked.

  “I just said. I think she misplaced it. I don’t think someone went into the house and took it from her. Who would do that? I assume she’s probably had the necklace for years. Who would suddenly decide they had to have it now?”

  “Maybe someone who just became aware of it.”

  “Me, because I’m the new girl in town?”

  “You are the new girl in town. And you saw it for the first time when Sarah wore it to the community dance.”

  “And I assume she told you that I told her she should have it locked up, not just lying around the house.”

  “That doesn’t mean you didn’t help yourself to it. You knew it wasn’t locked up. Maybe you felt justified taking it because she didn’t follow your advice. She deserved to lose it if she wasn’t going to take care of it.”

  “No.”

  “Tell me what happened, then, in your own words.”

  “There’s nothing to tell. Like you said, she wore it to the dance. I saw her put it on. I saw her wearing it at the dance. We came home. That’s all I remember about it. I didn’t see her put it away, and I haven’t seen it since.”

  “You’re suggesting that she didn’t put it away that night? Maybe she left it out somewhere? Maybe she was too tired after all of the night’s excitement?”