I saw the look shared between Clive and the two detectives, I even saw Dessen shake her head slightly, but it was Detective Dawson who spoke. "I know this is a difficult time for you, Ms. London, but I’m a vampire, and Detective Clive and Jacob are both halflings. We can hear your heartbeat. You’re lying to us."
"What?" I asked, alarmed. "I'm not."
"You are," Clive said. "What is going on? Did you and Mrs. Coe have an argument?"
"What? No!"
"Then what are you lying about?" Clive pushed.
I sighed. "Not about Mrs. Coe. Never about her. I didn't quit my job, I was fired."
"What!" Dessen said, alarmed. "Why didn't you tell me?"
I shook my head. "It just happened yesterday."
"Why would you lie about being fired?" Detective Dawson asked.
"Because I'm pretty sure I was fired because Arte Abbas found out I was working there as an Unbound." I stared at my shoes, not wanting to see the looks of pity on their face. "But, one of my old coworkers came over last night and informed me that it was announced that I quit, and the paperwork that I signed said a ‘Notice of Separation.’ So, on paper, it looks like I quit, not fired."
"They can't do that," Clive growled.
"It doesn't matter, it happens to Unbounds all the time," I said. "At least they paid me severance."
"It still doesn't make it right." Dessen shook her head.
"I know." I grimaced. "But that doesn't matter. I want to know what happened to Mrs. Coe?"
Jacob cleared his throat. "Our initial thought was this was a robbery gone wrong, but with what we have gathered so far, we have determined that wasn't the case. We will need you to confirm inventory records, but it doesn’t look as if anything was taken. The register was full.
I closed my eyes and dropped my head in my hands. "Who could have done this…why would anyone do this?"
"We understand this is a hard time for you, but we do have more questions to ask if you are up for it?" Jacob asked.
I took a breath and nodded once more, facing them. "I can do this."
"Okay, we need to know, did she have any enemies? Anything that would explain this attack?" Jacob asked.
I shook my head. "No. She's been kind and helpful to everyone who walked in the store."
"How long have you known her?"
"Since I was sixteen. Mrs. Coe was the person who confirmed I was a witch, and I've worked at the shop on the weekends ever since."
"How did you not know," Detective Dawson cut in, "that you were a witch?"
I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. "My parents died when I was young. I grew up in the nonmagical foster care system. I just thought I was weird. Mrs. Coe helped me when I didn't have anyone. When I was eighteen, and aged out of the system, she let me move in with her. She helped me through college. She was the closest thing I had to a family..." I trailed off, feeling another wave of pain course through me. "I'm sorry, I just need a second."
"No, take your time," Jacob said. "Clive, is there anything you can add on the record?"
I felt Clive shift in the seat next to me. "I can say this is unexpected. Mrs. Coe has never been anything but polite to everyone in our community. Since Olivia moved in, Mrs. Coe has had Dessen and me over to her apartment for dinner at least once every two weeks." He looked to Dessen to confirm, and she nodded. "When Olivia called this morning, I would never have imagined we would have walked into that scene. I would have never thought anyone would attack her."
"No one had a reason to hurt her." I heard Dessen say. "No one."
"Ms. London," Detective Dawson spoke up. "How was business?"
I pulled myself together for what felt like the hundredth time that hour. "Good. I mean, it could have always been better, but we weren't hurting."
"Are you certain of this?" Jacob asked.
"Yeah. I did the books, tallied sales. We had improved from last year by ten percent." I explained. "Nothing was wrong."
"How did she seem the last time you saw her?"
"Happy," I said. "She basically kicked me out." I laughed.
"She did?" Both detectives shared a look, but Jacob spoke up. "Was she in a rush for you to leave?"
"No, nothing like that, she just knows Monday's are hard for me. It was late, and she wanted to make sure I got enough sleep. She cared like that.”
"Was there anything else that happened over the last few days that was out of the ordinary?" Detective Dawson asked.
"It was weird, but the only thing I can think of is the contract I mentioned earlier."
"The one giving you the store when you turn thirty?" Jacob confirmed.
"Yes, but it wasn't a secret that I was getting the store. Clive and Dessen knew. She first told me at my twenty-fifth birthday dinner."
"She did," Clive confirmed.
"If you knew you were getting the store, why didn’t you just work their full time?"
I smiled softly, thinking of her. "She didn't want my entire life to be the store. She wanted me to have experiences outside of the store before I took it on full time. Honestly, I could’ve taken it over when she first told me, but I wasn't in a rush."
"Were there any angry customers? Vendors? Anyone with a grudge?"
I shook my head. "I honestly can't think of anyone."
"This contract," Detective Dawson started, "we will need to confirm that it was suggested by Mrs. Coe and signed before we can turn the shop back over to you once we release the scene. Do you know what law firm she worked with?"
"Umm, take your time, I don’t think I’ll be ready to step foot in there for a while," I said. "But, umm funny enough, I think it was drafted by Sanders and Angell. I remember seeing it on the cover sheet."
"Oh." Jacob wrote some more in his notepad before looking back up at me. "I think we have enough to start with." He stood up, and Detective Dawson nodded and followed. "If we have any other questions, we will reach out."
"Please, let me know the minute you find something." I stood and shook both of their hands.
"I'll walk you out," Clive said before walking them to the door.
EIGHT
After the detectives left, I asked Clive and Dessen if they wouldn’t mind if I had some time to myself…to process everything. They were reluctant at first, but after I promised to call them later, they agreed and left. I just wanted to be left alone, I needed some time. I sat on my couch and thought about what had occurred.
Mrs. Coe, she was gone, dead. Murdered. Someone took her from me, from the world.
How long would she have been there if I hadn't come by today?
Would any of the customers have realized? Would I?
I walked over to my counter and pulled out another bottle of wine. I knew I shouldn’t drown my sorrows in alcohol, but all things considered, I could live with the decision.
I poured myself a large glass and drank it down in two gulps and poured myself another.
I placed the glass on the table, I grabbed a notebook and a pen from the counter and sat down and thought.
Was there anyone who could have done this? Was there anyone in our life that had it out for her?
I took another sip and tried to think of everything I knew about her.
After twenty minutes, my list was still blank. I took another drink and switched my thinking.
Who do I contact? Who do I tell? I needed to start thinking about her funeral.
I started to make a list and a plan of who I needed to contact and what I needed to do.
By the time I was done, I had a list of 20 of our most frequent customers who I knew had a personal relationship with Mrs. Coe and a temporary plan of service.
I don't know how long I sat at the table in silence, with the occasional sip of wine, when I heard a knock at my door.
I glanced at the clock on my counter, it read 6:00pm. I had been sitting there alone for three hours.
"Who is it?" I asked, walking closer to the door.
"It's Chelsea."
/> I peered through my peephole to confirm before I opened the door, and she launched herself at me, wrapping her arms tight around my neck. "I'm so sorry." She said, pushing herself into my apartment.
"What are you doing here?" I asked once she pulled back.
"The detectives stopped by the job today. I overheard what happened, and I wanted to come by and check on you. I also wanted to let you know you were right."
"Excuse me?" I asked a bit confused.
She paced around my apartment. "I thought about what you said yesterday, and you were right. I wasn't your friend. I held you at arm's length for my comfort. I was fake, but I don't want to be anymore, I want to be your friend. A true friend, a real friend, someone you can call in times like this. I’m so ashamed of how I acted."
"Thanks." I blinked. I wasn't sure what else to say, and with the amount of wine I consumed, I didn’t want to say anything I would regret.
"And I am very sorry about what happened to Mrs. Coe. I remembered you talking about her, and I know she was important to you. I'm sorry for your loss."
"Thank you." I nodded again.
She gave me a small smile. "Um, I talked to my parents about all the attacks, and they told me they wanted me to come home."
"Home?" I asked. "Are you not from here?" Chelsea never told me about her life outside the job.
"No," she shook her head. "I'm from New York."
"Oh, were you apart of the New York Coven?" I asked.
"Um, yea.” She looked uncomfortable as she answered. “My family sort of runs it."
"I'm sorry?" I blinked, thinking I heard her wrong. Her words did seem a bit muffled to me. "Your parents run the New York Coven?"
She nodded.
"Why are you living here? I mean in DC?"
"I wanted to make a name for myself outside of my family’s name."
"Do the members in the Coven know?"
"Only the Abbas family, I'm using my mother's maiden name. I'm the youngest of four; I wanted to move and stand out."
I blinked. "Not to be rude, but why are you telling me this?"
"It’s part of the reason why I acted like I did. I wanted to fit in so bad down here that I complied with everyone at the office, but that’s not how I want to be remembered." She walked over to my couch and sat down. "I don't want to be like my family, judging people based on their Coven affiliation. I want to be better."
I smiled and walked over to the couch and sat down next to her. "Thank you for telling me. But back to your first statement - are you going back to New York?"
"No," she shook her head. "I'm not going to run. I want to be here for you."
"Thanks."
"Hey, Olivia." I heard Dessen's voice come through the door. "Are you up? I have dinner."
"Hold that thought." I held up my finger to Chelsea and opened the door. Dessen walked in, carrying two large bags.
"Oh, hello." Dessen smiled at Chelsea. "I'm Dessen."
"You're a vampire." Chelsea swallowed, glancing between Dessen and me.
"Yeah." Dessen smiled, letting her fangs drop. "I have the fangs to prove it."
"Oh," Chelsea gave me a nervous look. "I didn't realize you were friends with vampires."
I shrugged. "Yeah, they don't care if I'm Bound or Unbound."
"Do you have a problem with Olivia being friends with a vampire?" Dessen narrowed her eyes at Chelsea, and Chelsea shrunk in her seat.
"Nooooo! It’s nothing like that. I'm just not used to it. There’s nothing wrong with that at all."
"Good." Dessen turned back to the bags. "I bought enough food for a small army.” She glanced at the empty bottle of wine on the table. “And you clearly need the food. Let's eat." She smiled, taking the boxes out of the bags.
"Did you get barbecue?" I asked as my mouth watered at the smell.
"I know you need it." Dessen smiled. She quickly shot around the table, opening all the boxes, and set the table. I shook my head. She was using her speed just because Chelsea was here and made a comment. "What brings you here now?" She looked at Chelsea.
"Oh, um. The detectives came by the office today." Chelsea walked over to the table. "I heard what happened, and I wanted to come to check in on Olivia..."
"And?" Dessen pushed. "I can hear your heart racing, and I know it's not because of me. You're nervous."
She tried to sneak a peek at me but quickly looked away.
"What is it?" I pushed, knowing it wasn't about her family secret.
"Ok," she said, turning away from me. "I was going to tell you before she came, but um Mr. Abbas stopped me on my way out of the office today."
"Arte? Why?" I asked.
She let out a breath. "He asked about you, asked why you quit."
"He what?" I asked. "Why would he care? Why would he ask you?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. I um, I told him I didn't know why. Keeping with the, um…" She shot a side glance at Dessen like she was asking could I mention it in front of her. I nodded. "I kept with the story that you quit. He looked a little shocked that you decided to quit. I couldn't tell if he was acting or not, but my gut is telling me he didn't know."
I sat down at the table. "But Arte owns the firm. How could he not know?"
"I don’t know." Chelsea sat across from me while Dessen took the last chair.
"There's no way he couldn't have known." I reasoned.
"Yeah, but that's not it. He also asked me to sponsor you."
"What? You can’t be serious." He had to be playing a joke on me.
"Yeah, he told me not to tell you why I was offering to sponsor you, but I want to be honest with you. If you want to join the Coven, I'll be more than happy to sponsor you," she rushed out. "But I just wanted you to know the whole story."
"So, I have an offer to join?" I was stunned. I had gotten so used to being Unbound, so used to being on the outside, that I never gave any thought to joining one of the Covens. "I haven't thought about joining a Coven since I was in my early twenties."
"I did ask, but he wouldn't tell me why he wanted you to join. Not that I'm opposed to it." She assured me.
"I know you're not," I said. "But it's just weird."
"He wants me to give him an answer by the end of the week," Chelsea said.
"Why wouldn't you want to join?" Dessen asked.
I shrugged. "Like I said, I hadn't thought about it in years."
"Would you want to?" Dessen pushed, and I could tell she didn't want me to. Both the Abbas and Easton Covens were not known for their honest behavior.
"I-" I stopped and thought about it. Did I want to be a part of the Coven? Did I really want that? Did I want to join the very system that made me feel like an outcast, like less than for my entire life? "No." I shook my head. "I don't actually want to join." I turned to Chelsea. "You can tell him no."
I was actually surprised when she smiled. "I wouldn't join under these circumstances either. It just feels like they are planning something behind the scenes."
"Honestly, all I want now is to get past the next couple of days. I don’t think I can focus on anything else right now."
"I understand." Chelsea smiled. "I'll let him know."
"Thank you," I smiled. "But I don't want to talk about that right now." I pulled my plate towards me. “Right now, I want to dive into food and forget my troubles.”
NINE
The week passed in a blur and before I knew it, it was Friday. Clive informed me Jacob and Detective Dawson wanted to meet with me at SPF headquarters to finally provide some updates. Thankfully Clive was coming with me. I had never been there before, and while I knew where it was, I didn't want to go on my own.
The SPF headquarters was located under the Lincoln Memorial. The entrance was on the right side through a hidden door that only magicals, and very few humans with special access badges, could see.
It was perfect that the Memorial was so busy year-round. No one noticed random people disappearing around the corner.
At 1:45
pm, I stood outside the Lincoln Memorial with Clive by my side. Dessen wanted to be with us, but she needed to get back to her job.
Since the Lincoln Memorial was built from stone and had no windows to view inside, I always assumed the interior would be stone with multiple light fixtures to lighten the room.
That was not the case.
The interior was a standard office setting. Though the walls did have the stone lining, there was a large window on the opposite of the entrance that encompassed the entire wall, allowing natural light from outside to shine in.
In front of us were a few desks facing the door, one labeled 'Check-in' with a woman in her mid-50s typing on the computer. Behind the desks was a hallway with multiple doors lining them.
"That window wasn't always there," Clive mentioned as he noticed where I was looking. "But there was a warlock who was tired of never seeing the sun, so he created a cloaking charm over the wall. To everyone outside, they still see the stone slabs, but we get to have some light, which improved morale."
"I bet," I said. "Where to?"
"Our office is two floors down. It's much larger once we move underground." He explained as we walked to the other end of the hallway, passing a few desks and doorways.
"So, I guess most people check in back there," I noted, pointing back to where we walked in.
"Yes."
"What’s behind those doors?"
"This is sort of public relations," Clive explains.
"Public relations?" I questioned.
"Well, the human components of our team. They all work on this level. We can't have them come downstairs, it's a bit more dangerous for them once we move underground." He explained.
I didn't fully understand, but I was not in the mood to pry.
We walked down the hallway until we reached the end and took a left and arrived at a door labeled 'Stairwell.'
Ahmentree's Magic Page 5
