by Iris Kincaid
Everyone seemed anxious to be helpful. Ten waiters and waitresses. Three sous chefs. Two hostesses. Margo was slowly able to piece together who had been there and when they might have had the opportunity to commit the crime.
“I know there must’ve been a lot of tourists, a lot of unfamiliar faces. Did anyone stand out?”
“His brother was there. I don’t know why. The two of them don’t get along. Ian Fowler was also here. Geez, guess he had to see with his own eyes. He owns the Italian place right across the street, Verona, and apparently, his own business took quite a hit after our place opened. He went inside the kitchen to complain about our customers taking up his parking spaces. You know, petty stuff.”
“That Fiona Skretting. You know, the one they say is a witch.”
Margo squirmed uncomfortably “You’re kidding. She was here? Why?”
“Chowing down on the Thai peanut sliders and green chili and cheese tamales. It was the first and only time I’ve ever seen her here. People say she’s one of the witches. But you probably don’t believe in that kind of thing.”
“What did she . . . what was she like?”
“Creepy. After the guy was poisoned, everyone was waiting for the ambulance, and everyone was horrified, right? She looked . . .”
“Indifferent?”
“Entertained.”
“It was such a terrible thing for his whole family—his brother, cousin and his wife, his aunt. They were in such a loud, happy mood.”
“See, the dead guy never left his seat. But I think the other two men stepped into the kitchen. They said they wanted to give their compliments to the chef. But that was before they even got their meals.”
Margo knew the two men were probably just conducting loan shark business and reminding Russell that his payment was coming up real soon.
“Okay, I don’t know if anyone’s pointing any fingers at me, but Russell and I had a little argument that night. I lost track of one of the orders, and Russell was ticked off because it’s happened before. He took me out in the alley to chew me out. At least he didn’t do things like that in front of the whole crew.”
“So, he was out of the kitchen for how long?”
“Three or four minutes.”
“And where was his coat? Could you show me?”
The location of employee outerwear was unfortunately along the wall of the hallway to the kitchen. Very accessible to anyone going in or out.
Margo finally wound up the interviews and made her exit. She couldn’t help but notice the bustling activity and crowded patio space of the Italian place across the street. Looked like Ian Fowler had managed to get his customers back. She really was going to need to have a word with him. But this whole thing was daunting. So many people, so much opportunity to tamper with the food in the coat, such weird, inexplicable behavior—okay, primarily from Fiona Skretting—just no clear answers. Margo sighed loudly in frustration. She had run right into the wall of her limitations. What might she be able to accomplish if she had those . . . powers? And what would it mean to live her life as a witch?
*****
Delphine was happy to delay opening her shop this morning in order to give Margo some personal guidance. She was only relieved that Margo seemed open to the idea that this truly was the path for her to become something better.
It was best that the lesson be conducted in a place of peace and familiarity to Margo. Thankfully, Bette went to an exercise class three times a week, right after she got off work, ensuring all the privacy they needed.
“Start with the essentials,” Lilith commanded. “Teach her Refractere.”
Newhart, who was in his carrier, growled frantically.
“Newhart, what’s the matter with you?”
“He can feel Lilith’s presence, which is a promising sign. He may make a decent familiar one day.”
“Lilith’s presence? She’s . . . here?”
“She takes a great interest in your well-being and your entry into our community.”
“You can see her? And hear her?”
“Yes. But that is a talent you are unlikely to develop. At any rate, she had requested that you learn the incantation Refractere. It allows you to . . . break things.”
“What?”
“Much like that afternoon when you shattered your dinnerware and glass—that was fueled by emotion. But the same thing can be accomplished with this incantation and that pendant around your neck. Yes, in the hands of a commoner, it’s just a pretty trinket. But in the hands of a witch, it’s a very strong enhancement.” Delphine looked around mischievously. “You have a lovely little home. Let’s break something.”
“Oh, well, I have a mug in the kitchen that’s already chipped. I won’t mind if that gets broken.”
After Margo returned with the mug, she shook her head. “Why am I learning how to break things? That doesn’t seem like a very useful skill. I mean, any toddler can break things. It would be so much cooler to be able to put things back together.”
“Agreed. But it’s far, far easier to do damage than to resurrect. It is one of the easiest of incantations—that is all. Not to mention, Lilith had an undeniable talent for destruction. You will come to excel at some of those abilities. Now clasp the pendant in your hand. Close your eyes. And see this mug explode. See it as vividly as you can. You’ll feel the pendant getting warm in your hand. When you can see the image clearly, say Refractere. Repeat it until the cup shatters.”
Margo did as told. She did, indeed, feel the pendant become warm in her hand, unnaturally warm. The shattering of the mug was easy to envision since she was able to draw on the nightmare incident she had caused at the pub. “Refractere. Refractere. Refractere.” She heard the unmistakable crash of glass breaking, and her eyes flew open.
“I told you this was an easy one. Deceptively easy, for your power is not yet strong enough to create a permanent disturbance. In other words, this cup will become whole again in about fifteen minutes, at most.”
“Really? That’s pretty exciting,” Margo responded.
“I’m glad you think so. However, you need to be aware that it’s not the goal. The goal, eventually, is to create changes and manipulations that stay put. And the stronger you become, the more capable you will be in forcing those lasting changes.”
“But will I be able to put things back together, to fix things that are broken on purpose?”
“Absolutely. But it is a far more advanced skill. Baby steps.”
Margo had built up a great deal of patience and discipline over her lifetime—survival necessities. But the clock was ticking for Russell. She could only hope that she could advance quickly enough to be of use to him before it was too late.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The next morning, Margo could not help but admire herself in the mirror. No longer pale and tired, and no longer depressed. Now, the image she saw before her was bursting with health, the best possible self that she could have wished for.
The doom hanging over her existence had been replaced by a big question mark. When she knew there was no future for her, there had been no need to think about what was coming next. No need to make plans. Now that the future stretched out before her in a long, brilliantly endless fashion, what exactly were her plans? What was she going to do with her life?
Of course, she would always have Margo’s Movie House. That was such an essential part of her life. There shouldn’t be anything fundamentally incompatible between owning a business and being a witch. Certainly, Delphine didn’t seem to have a problem with that.
Her next lesson with Delphine continued that morning, privacy assured with Bette thankfully, meeting a friend for brunch.
“Do witches all have jobs and businesses and go grocery shopping and get married? Are they like normal people? Because you seem pretty normal. But what I’m hearing about Lilith sounds like a bit of an unusual case.”
“On the surface, our lives are quite ordinary. In the best of ways. I love having my own business
and making jewelry. And having such a huge tourist crowd pour in every summer. And I love to go boating on the ocean. I love good food . . . but don’t we all? But your experience of all these things will be enhanced to a remarkable degree. You will soon feel as if you were sleepwalking through a great deal of your life.”
“And even after I learn how to be a witch, how to make things . . . happen, I still have the option of not using those abilities. Right?”
“That’s nonsense,” Lilith railed. “It’s like an able-bodied person deciding that they don’t feel like walking. Like they’re just going to stop walking one day even though they can. The powers demand to be used. One might as well wrap a blindfold around one’s eyes and decide to get through life without sight. Tell her, Delphine, that she has been given a great gift. I’ll not have her take it lightly.”
“She already treasures her newfound health and the loss of her old hesitance and timidity. It won’t take long for her to appreciate the other ways in which her life has been transformed. She needs to see the benefits for herself. And as we both know, power can be downright addictive.”
“Continue the lesson,” Lilith ordered sternly. “I tire of these delays.”
“Let us try Refractere again. The more you practice, the faster you will progress.”
Margo thought that she had mastered it. She broke the glass again with little difficulty. But what Delphine wanted to see was how long the glass remained broken. Last time, it lasted for twenty minutes. This time, it reassembled after some fifteen minutes, which, again, Margo thought was the coolest part of the whole process.
“One day, you will shatter something, and it will remain so.”
“What else are you going to teach me?”
“She must learn how to defend herself. Enemies are all about. We must teach her some serious defensive maneuvers.”
“There’s no need to alarm her. And no reason to assume that whoever targeted you will be of any danger to her. Not having your great strength, she won’t pose the same threat to them.”
Lilith scowled. “You lose sight of my mission. I intend to make use of this girl. Who is that? There are people approaching. Get rid of them.”
“I see them. But her life must continue. Especially after it was suspended for so long. Don’t worry, Lilith. I see a great future for her.”
There was a knock at the door.
“Who could that be?” Margo wondered. “Sorry. I’m sure this’ll just be a minute.”
She opened the front door and was stunned to see Finn Cochran, a.k.a. ‘Mark Ruffalo’ or ‘Mr. Lethal Weapon’ and a young girl at his side who looked to be about twelve years old. With her dark pixie haircut, she reminded Margo of a tweeny Winona Ryder.
“Good morning. Sorry to just drop in like this without any notice. I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for being such a jerk the other night at the beach. My name’s Finn in case you forgot. You’re Margo Bailey. And this here is my niece, Zoe Larson.”
“Hi,” Zoe chirped cheerfully. She examined Margo with undisguised enthusiasm.
“Uh, hi. Nice to meet you.”
Margo glanced behind her, not certain if Delphine would tolerate strangers intruding on their clandestine little lesson, but Delphine was gone.
“So I brought Zoe here to offer her services as a token of my apology.”
“Services?”
Zoe backed away from the steps and onto the front yard, where she threw up her arms and executed a perfect cartwheel. Margo gasped in amazement.
“As you know, I am cartwheel challenged. But Zoe here will hook you up. She’s taught this to other friends. Go ahead. Give her a try.”
It was such a crazy little thing to be fixated on. Margo had always wanted to do a cartwheel. This was a pretty bizarre turn of events. What did he say his name was? Finn? And he had dragged his niece here? How did he even know where she lived? But there wasn’t a whole lot of time to figure things out. Zoe was dragging her into the middle the yard, ready to begin their lessons.
“Uncle Finn, come over here. You stand right behind her and if it looks like she’s about to fall over, give her legs a push forward. Just make sure she doesn’t kick you in the face.”
“Uh, I was just gonna watch. I had no idea my face was going to be involved in any way or I would’ve brought a helmet.”
Margo actually turned out to be a quick study. So much so that Finn’s backup assistance was dispensed with after ten minutes, whereupon he returned to the front porch and was happy to watch from a distance. He couldn’t help but smile at how clearly delighted that Margo was to check this high-priority item from her bucket list. It had been a long time since he had seen anyone so full of unmitigated joy. The fact that that joy was wrapped in an alluring, adorable package was not lost on him.
Despite giving her full attention to the cartwheel lesson, Margo could not help but be aware of Finn’s eyes on her. She couldn’t even recall giving him her name that night on the beach. Of course! He must’ve gotten it from the police guest log, where she signed in with her address as well. But this was a pretty extreme measure, to track her down. Sure, he behaved like a jerk but, why would he be so bothered by it to go to such lengths to apologize? And to bring his niece! The motivation was so obvious, so glaring, that her cheeks slowly flushed. He wanted to get to know her.
Margo and Zoe finally approached Finn on the porch.
“Very nice. Cirque du Soleil, here we come,” Finn teased.
“I am going to dazzle my sister and make her very jealous,” Margo declared with a big grin. Her latest talent acquisition clearly couldn’t hold a candle to acquiring magical powers. But she was still well aware that she had her new heart to thank for this surreal moment.
“Say, it’s gonna be a scorcher today. Maybe you’d like to join me and Zoe and take a little dip at the beach,” Finn said, trying to sound nonchalant.
“Yeah, Margo, say yes, say yes, say yes, say yes,” Zoe pleaded.
“That’s very nice, but . . . this is going to sound silly. I haven’t been swimming since my lessons in high school. I don’t even have a swimming suit.”
“You live in Oyster Cove. You live in a beach town. And you have no swimming suit?” Finn asked incredulously.
“Whenever I needed to cool off, I just waded in up to my knees. I know how to swim. I just don’t swim.”
“There’s a ton of sales on swimsuits right now,” Zoe said. “We passed a bunch of them. Really cheap. It’s a good time to buy one. I’ll help you. You try them on and I’ll let you know which one looks the best.”
“I, too, would like to offer my services,” Finn said, trying to keep a straight face. “If you want to try on swimsuits, I’d be happy to offer my humble opinion.”
“Don’t be a doofus, Uncle Finn. You can go off and do something while I give her a hand. And then we can meet up afterward and go to the beach. Okay, Margo? How does that sound?”
“I have to be at work by 3:45 p.m.,” Margo said, mind spinning.
“Okay, shopping first, then a couple of hours on the beach, then we can get lunch somewhere,” Zoe decided. “His treat.”
“Very generous of me,” Finn teased. “No, absolutely. Please join us for lunch. That’s part two of the apology.”
“What’s part three?” Zoe wondered.
Finn looked away with a little embarrassed smile. Perhaps part three was a little too PG-13.
*****
It had been a long time since Margo had spent time with such a young girl. And she couldn’t remember when the last time was when she had met anyone who was so determined to be her friend. At least, not including Zoe’s uncle.
There were three dressing room stalls, but they were the only customers around. Zoe stood outside the door and ferried swimsuits back and forth, getting new sizes and putting the rejects back.
“So, your uncle seems like a pretty cool guy,” Margo said nonchalantly.
“He’s super cool—we’re all so glad that he’s okay. He
was in the hospital for two months. The first two weeks, in an induced coma. That had us all freaking out. But it was to stabilize him. I’ve never been so scared in my life. But he looks good now, right?”
“That’s horrible. And wonderful that he’s so well now.”
“Well, we’re happy he got this job in Oyster Cove. He always used to have to travel so much. He didn’t get a chance to see his family that much. No chance to have a real girlfriend.” She looked meaningfully at Margo.
“You do realize that your uncle and I barely know each other. In fact, we don’t know each other. I don’t know anything about him.”
“What do you want to know?”
Margo paused to think. Another unprecedented opportunity. They seemed to be popping up all over the place. “What do you like most about him?”
“Okay, so when I was young—okay, okay, younger—I broke one of my mother’s favorite Christmas bulbs. Uncle Finn was visiting, and he told her he had done it. Afterward, he told me, in general, that it’s not okay to lie, blah, blah, blah. But after that, I knew he would always look out for me.”
So, Mr. Lethal Weapon was a nice guy. Six months ago, she would have shied away from the thought of getting close to him because of her weak heart and bleak future. Now, she had to wonder what on earth he would think if he were aware of the whole witch thing? She absentmindedly stepped out of the dressing stall wearing a red and white striped bikini, probably the tenth suit she had tried on.
“Winner!” Zoe declared jubilantly.
Margo smiled. Was this what it would’ve been like to have a little sister?
*****
The water was bracingly cold. Margo squealed as the icy water crashed over her. Five minutes was all it took for their bodies to acclimate. Zoe accelerated the process by splashing as much water as she could on the other two. Margo was glad that the others were unaware that completely immersing herself in cold water had been on her taboo list. It was a blueprint for a heart attack. Now, the playful waves felt like yet another new friend.
