The Witch's Heart (One Part Witch Book 1)

by Iris Kincaid

  The following twenty-four hours, Margo was enveloped in a bubble of safety, which she decided not to object to in the short run. Especially since the attempt on Russell’s life seemed to have lit a fire under the police force. He was still their main suspect, but Finn was heavily pushing them to broaden the investigation. If an innocent man were killed because they had pointed the finger at the wrong man—that was an unthinkable scenario.

  Margo did have to make time to go to the hospital the following day. The results would be part of an official nationwide update on the aftermath of all transplants performed that year. She knew her results would be stellar, and she was happy for Dr. Svenson to get the credit for it. Good thing his colleagues would never know why her new heart was so unbelievably sturdy. The fact that it came from a witch actually wouldn’t land him in as much legal hot water as the fact that there was no donor permission.

  Margo was waiting by the nurse’s station for the last of her tests, trying to keep Newhart entertained through the bars of his carrier. Then she glanced down the hallway and saw a heartwarming sight coming toward her. It was Rowena Quinn being pushed in a wheelchair, her tiny little baby wrapped in her arms.

  “Oh, wow,” Margo gushed. “It looks like everything went great. Can I take a look? At him? Her?

  “Her. A little girl. Just like I always wanted.”

  Margo peeked at the tiny head, already sprouting a thick patch of black hair.

  “She’s beautiful. What wonderful news for your whole family. Where is the proud daddy?”

  “Oh, the doctor told us it was going to be a really long labor. And Lester really wasn’t going to be any help in the labor room. He gets so queasy—you know how some guys are. So I told him to scram and wait for my call. And my sister came down from Boston to help me out. She’s all the company I needed.”

  “Ah, well, congratulations to you all,” Margo said sincerely.

  The nurse at the station echoed the sentiment. “There’s nothing I love more than seeing a healthy family go home. I’ve got the form for the birth certificate you filled out right here. We just need to print out the official copy.”

  Newhart chose that moment to show off his special trick of escaping his plush cage. He jumped to the floor, and with anther quick leap, landed right on the edge of the birth document, where he immediately hocked out a fur ball right onto the birth document.

  “Oh, no. Newhart. That’s awful. Oh, I’m so sorry.”

  “Ew.” The nurse recoiled.

  Margo reached over the counter for the box of tissues on the nurse’s desk. She scooped up the fur ball and tried to wipe off the document as much as possible.

  “No, no. Don’t bother. We’ll have to get a new form filled out. That’s not going to go back into my file cabinet. Sorry, Mrs. Quinn. I’ll be right back.”

  “Yeah. Sorry about that,” Margo repeated guiltily. Of all things to ruin, a document testifying to the creation of a new life. Her tiny little family tree, laying out the legal particulars that established her place in the world. Parents. City of birth. Blood types . . . blood types.

  “That’s peculiar. The baby’s blood type is B positive. Good motto. Easy to remember. Now, it’s been a long time since my last biology class, but I’m pretty sure that means one of her parents has to also have B blood type. But you’re O negative—universal, very nice. And your husband is type A.

  And the two of you managed to create a B positive child. You know who else had B positive blood? Julian Meeks did. His brother mentioned that when I interviewed the family.”

  Rowena’s face was frozen still—she looked like the classic deer in the headlights. This one was not too difficult to figure out.

  “I imagine that your husband would be pretty angry to find out that this is his cousin Julian’s child.”

  Rowena’s face clouded over, as did her sister’s. Their expressions spilled the beans.

  “I see. He already knows,” Margo continued. “And he already got really angry. Angry enough to kill his own cousin.”

  Rowena started stammering. “It was . . . it was all my fault. I–I should have stayed away from Julian. And we never should have tried to live in that big house together. Lester was always gone every night on business. Things just got out of hand.”

  “Shut up, Rowena,” her sister snapped at her.

  “It’s too late. The truth is right there in the baby’s blood,” Rowena replied. Then she turned to Margo. “Of course, Lester was furious—what man wouldn’t be? But he shouldn’t be punished for something I drove him to do. It’s just too much. The baby’s father is dead. His brother is in prison for trying to kill that Russell guy. And my husband—he’s all we got left. Our family will be devastated. Destroyed. What’s going to happen to this little baby?”

  Margo was unmoved. “If she’s lucky, you’ll do everything you can to surround her with better people.”

  She left Rowena sobbing and her sister shaken.

  Outside, Margo quickly called Finn on her cell. “Lester Quinn killed his cousin Julian Meeks. He found out that his wife and Julian were having an affair, and the baby that she just had is Julian’s. I just saw her at the hospital. She admitted everything.”

  “What? She admitted everything? Where’s Lester right now?”

  “He’s at his lumber office.”

  “Okay, hang on a minute. I gotta get on the other line, check the tap and the tracker we’ve got on his phone, and get some cops out there.”

  “You have a tracker on his phone? How did you know?”

  “That he killed Julian? We didn’t. He’s been under investigation for a long time for Mafia stuff. But they were never able to pin anything on him. Hang on.”

  After a long five-minute wait, Finn was back on the line. “Yeah he’s at his lumber business, right now . . . lumber. Wood rot. Arsenic. Yeah, it took a little too long to connect those dots. Anyway, I’m meeting most of the other officers over there for the arrest. But I don’t want you at the hospital. His wife just had a baby. He could be headed over there. And it looks like they’re putting everyone on this, so no one’s left for guard duty.”

  “I could get over to your place,” Margo volunteered.

  “No. No people have seen us and I don’t even want to risk them tracking down my place. His wife is going to give him a heads up for sure. He’s going to know that you know. But no one can connect you to the hotel. I want you to join Russell. He’s in room 208. Just wait it out. I checked on him just an hour ago. You two sit tight until Lester is brought in. Then I’ll pick you up. Okay? You did terrific. Now, let the cops do their thing. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Margo heard Finn’s loud sigh of relief.

  “Take a cab. There’s always a few outside the hospital.”

  “Yeah, I see one.”

  Margo was quite willing to comply. Anyone who killed his own cousin wouldn’t hesitate to kill Russell or herself. Thank goodness it was all about to be over.

  *****

  Margo exited the taxi. She stepped through a tall hedged fence toward the motel entrance. Click. She turned to find herself staring down along the barrel of a handgun, about twelve feet away, held by a cold, steely Lester Quinn.

  “Not a very smart move, sticking your nose in our family business.”

  “Well, I didn’t, really. It was just this hairball mishap,” Margo said, mind racing, and stalling for time seemed like the first line of defense. “I wasn’t thinking about your family at all. How could I even have imagined that a man would kill his own cousin?”

  “Oh, yeah. Can you imagine a man’s wife and cousin stabbing him in the back? Messing around, right under my own roof.”

  Margo took a closer look at the gun. Was that a silencer? “Oh, I’m sure it was very hurtful.”

  “It’s not like it’s a secret that can really be kept. The truth would have to come out. Julian would treat the kid like she was his own. The whole world would found out. The Quinns and Meeks would be laughings
tocks. As it is, now I gotta raise someone else’s kid and pretend it’s mine. I don’t think I’m gonna be able to stand the sight of this kid. But I gotta deal with it to keep the family together. Nothing more important than family.”

  “Family? You not only killed your cousin, but you pinned the blame on Russell, which made Julian’s brother so upset he could wind up in prison for years.”

  “Carson would have saved me a lot of trouble if he could’ve been a little quicker with his car. Maybe just as well. I would have to watch my back and worry that Carson was going to find out I killed his brother. Now, he’s in jail, and he can’t get to me. But that did leave me the little problem of taking care you and Russell Knox by myself.”

  “How did you even know we were here?” Margo asked, knowing it didn’t matter since Lester seemed pretty intent on killing her.

  “Oh, guess it don’t matter if I tell you. We got ourselves a couple of inside men on the police force, one in Boston and one here in Oyster Cove. Barney Thomas, Rowena’s cousin. Tells us everything we need to know. What motel you were being stashed in. How the cops been tracking my phone, which I left over in the lumber office for them. By the time they get over here, you’ll both be dead, and Russell will have typed a confession on his computer about killing Julian and then killing you when you confronted him with the murder, and then deciding he couldn’t live with what he had done. Brilliant, right?”

  Oh, how Lilith wished she were facing this man in Margo’s place. He was just the sort of slimy lowlife that she used to take such pleasure in disposing of. But more to the point, it looked as if Margo’s life was about to be extinguished. Along with the hope of any possibility of her assistance in finding Lilith’s killer.

  Now, the questions in Margo’s mind began swirling in earnest. Was she finally face-to-face with the abrupt death that had threatened her for her entire life? Was she going to turn into a ghost? Would she be able to see Lilith and talk to her? What would it do to Finn to find her dead? That question snapped her back into survival mode.

  If only Lester were close enough, she would send a jolt of electricity through him that he would not soon forget. But he was too far away. She had to be close enough to touch him, and if she made a lunge for him . . . well, she was most certainly not faster than a speeding bullet.

  And Lester knew his way around the gun. He had both hands gripping it and it appeared to be aimed right at her heart. What a despicable man—no qualms about killing innocent people. Just a quick tug on the trigger, and her life would disappear into nothing and he would just blithely make his way up to Russell’s room and do it all over again. If only his gun turned out to be defective in some way or . . . or broken.

  “Refractere!” Margo roared, one hand outstretched toward the gun, the other on her pendant.

  Lester let out a scream of extreme pain and dropped the gun on the ground. A split-second later, Finn came out of nowhere and tackled Lester to the ground. Lester continued screaming.

  “My hands! My hands are broken!”

  “Stay down and shut up,” Finn ordered.

  He put handcuffs on Lester, which made him scream even louder.

  “What do you know? His hands are broken. Could’ve sworn he landed on his shoulder. But buddy, you just had that gun pointed at my girl. So, I don’t care if you have fifty-seven bones broken. Babe, you okay?”

  “I am now,” Margo said.

  Finn called in for backup. He and Margo held each other close while they waited for the cops and ambulance to arrive.

  “How did you know that he was coming here?” Margo asked.

  “I didn’t. But there were so many guys headed out to the bust at the lumber company that I decided that I needed to . . . I told the captain I had to see how you were doing.”

  “Never better.” Margo rested her head against his chest. They rested in a silent embrace. Well, silent except for Lester’s crying and whining.

  “I’ll probably get charged with excessive force. I still don’t know how the guy’s hands got broken. But I could care less. When I think about what could’ve happened . . .”

  “Don’t worry about his hands. Twenty minutes and they’ll be good as new. Not that he deserves it.”

  Finn was puzzled, but Margo had been through so much, it was no surprise that she wasn’t thinking clearly.

  “Oh, and there’s this guy on the force, Barney Thomas. He’s Rowena’s cousin, and he’s been feeding the family information about which motel was the safe house and how Lester’s phone was being traced. This is probably why you were never able to get any information from the Mafia investigation. And they’ve got another family guy in the Boston force as well.”

  “Barney Thomas. Never liked him.”

  By the time the cop cars and ambulance arrived, there was such a commotion happening outside the motel that it drew Russell out of hiding. He approached Finn and Margo cautiously.

  “Russell!” Margo ran over and gave him a big hug “It’s over. We’re safe now. And Julian Meeks’s killer is headed for jail.”

  Russell was speechless. Almost. “Margo, you’ve saved my life. You really have.”

  What a weight was finally lifted from Margo’s shoulders. She was finally forgiven. Not by Russell . . . but by herself.

  *****

  Fortunately, the arrest of Lester Quinn occurred on a Monday, Margo’s only day off from the theater. Which was lucky timing. She had a lot to process and would not have been very focused on chatting about movie trivia or reviews with her talkative customers.

  Everything had worked out, perhaps not neatly, but with some justice. There would be some difficult days ahead for Russell in reestablishing his business. But perhaps, with one loan shark dead and two others in prison, at least his loan was history.

  A knock on the door had her racing to the entrance, and a moment later, she wrapped her arms around Finn, who looked absolutely exhausted from his very long day at the office.

  “C’mere. We need to talk,” Finn said.

  They sat down on the sofa and Margo waited expectantly.

  “Something very strange happened with Lester Quinn. You saw how his hands were broken. Which is just a bizarre injury, for starters. Then, we get him over to the hospital, and the doctor gets around to him. By then, he had stopped hollering. And no wonder—his hands weren’t broken anymore. You hear what I’m saying? The hands that were broken were no longer broken. And immediately, I remembered something bizarre you had said. That in twenty minutes, his hands would be fine. Which was ridiculous. Except . . . it turned out to be true.”

  Margo drew in a deep breath. Was Finn going to be able to handle this? Would it change things between them?

  “I do have something to tell you.”

  “I’m all ears.”

  “You’re not from Oyster Cove. You probably don’t know a whole lot about witches.”

  “Witches! All I know about witches is that there’s nothing to know. The fellas at the precinct are always ‘witch this, witch that’. This is the most superstitious town I’ve ever been in. You tellin’ me you believe in that kind of thing?”

  Margo scooted over on the sofa closer to him and gently touched the sleeve of his white shirt. “Resplenda.”

  The shirt changed into a beautiful sea green. Finn drew in a quick breath and leaned back a few inches, eyes darting back and forth between Margo and the shirt.

  “Yeah, I didn’t know much about witches either,” Margo said gently. “Until my heart transplant.”

  Finn’s face was, by turns, quite expressive and then eerily calm as Margo detailed the development of her witchly powers. Throughout her talk, whenever a wave of disbelief came over his features, she reached over and did another quick color-change on him to purple, orange, and electric blue. Each time was effective in overriding his natural skepticism.

  As she concluded, Margo tried to assess his reaction. “I was a little worried you would freak out. But you’re not freaking out.”

  “O
h, yes, I am. I’m a trained operative. This is what we look like when we’re freaking out.”

  “No rush. It’s a lot to take in. I should probably have mentioned that this is something you have to keep on the down low. You can’t tell anyone.”

  “And have them think I’m a nutcase? You’d better believe this is something I can keep to myself.” He shook his head, needing one final bit of evidence. He pointed toward a vase on the coffee table. “Break that vase.”

  “Refractere.”

  The vase shattered. Finn settled back on the sofa in deep thought.

  “Franc for your thoughts?” Margo inquired warily.

  “If I could taser people and break equipment, I wouldn’t have nearly as many bullet holes in me.”

  “You’re jealous!”

  “You’ve got some serious skills.”

  “Oh, I’m just getting started. There’s so much more to learn.”

  “What’s the most extreme thing you’ve done?”

  “Well, at the cliff dive . . . that actually was a shark.”

  “Oh, man!”

  This was going better than Margo had anticipated. Then she became worried again when she found herself under close, quiet scrutiny.

  “And you say it changed you. That you’re stronger . . . bolder . . . different?”

  “I am different. I just can’t say for sure how much of the differences are coming from Lilith, or whether I’m turning into the Margo I would have been if I had been born with a healthy heart. I do know one thing—Lilith Hazelwood was an extraordinary person, but she didn’t have a lot of love in her.” Margo pressed the back of her hand against Finn’s heart. “That part’s all me.”

  Finn drew Margo closer. Funny how a revelation as remarkable as witchcraft could quickly be bumped from center stage.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN: EPILOGUE

  Finn and the police captain were happy to do Russell the favor of going to the hospital and delivering the message of Russell’s innocence directly to his grandfather. Later that same afternoon, the will was revised yet again, and Russell was set to receive his inheritance. Three days later, during a lucid moment, his grandfather requested an end to the life-support. It gave Russell tremendous peace of mind to be able to hold his grandfather’s hands for that final moment.