The Witch Get Witcher

by Maeve Hart

  “Anything catch your eye?” I asked Jacques.

  “He was just saying that he likes things a little more realistic. And I have an artist exhibiting in two weeks time who I think you’d both like very much.”

  “We’ll definitely come and have a look at those,” Jacques said to my mother.

  “Good. Now, I had a visit from the detective who was in charge of Donald’s murder investigation.”

  “When? You had a visit here?”

  “Yes, I kept meaning to tell you over dinner last night, but every time I opened my mouth your grandmother had something to say.”

  “Did he buy one of these lovely paintings?” Jacques asked, keeping up his extra nice guy routine.

  “No, he said the strangest thing.” Mom giggled. “He said that what he does is like art. He gets forensic evidence and matches it together piece by piece and he said that’s his artwork. When it’s all put together, it becomes a masterpiece—a creation.”

  “Interesting perspective,” Jacques said.

  “Yes,” Mom agreed.

  “So, he came here just to tell you that?”

  My mother frowned at me. “Destiny, many people like to visit art galleries to absorb the atmosphere and be immersed in the culture.”

  “Is that what he was doing here?”

  “He’s a very friendly man. He’s bought paintings from me before and he said he’s still looking. He just has to find the right thing. There’s a huge space in his living room and he needs a large colorful painting.”

  I gasped. “You’ve been there?”

  “Hell no. He’s far too young for me.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that, Mom. I thought he might have invited you there to look at his space.”

  Mom giggled. “I haven’t seen his space.” Mom could tell I was bothered. “The case is closed, isn’t it? Jennifer confessed and now the case is closed?”

  “Yes, that’s right. It’s all over. I just get nervous around the police. Like I should confess to something.”

  “Well, that’s a guilty conscience. What have you done?”

  “The only thing Destiny has done is burn the toast. We had the fire department on the way a couple of weeks back. I had to call and tell them it was a false alarm.”

  “I can believe that.” Mom giggled. “She never could cook, not really.”

  “You should’ve given me some lessons, Mom. It’s probably all your fault.”

  “Yes, all children blame their parents for their shortcomings. That’s the latest thing these days, to blame it on your upbringing. No one has had a perfect childhood you know.” She looked at Jacques. “Yours wasn’t perfect, was it?”

  Jacques shook his head. “I was often left in the house alone when my adoptive parents went out by themselves. They liked to party. I’d hide under the sheets and wouldn’t sleep until they got home in the early hours of the morning.”

  My mother frowned. “That’s awful. Why would they adopt a child if they weren’t going to look after you properly?”

  Jacques gave a little shrug and then my mother turned her attention to me. “See, Destiny? Everyone has something to complain about. No one has had a perfect childhood.”

  “Perhaps tortured souls make better artists,” Jacques said to my mother.

  “That’s right,” my mother said.

  Just over an hour later of discussing childhoods and art with my mother, we got back in the car.

  “It’s a match,” I told Jacques in regard to the detective’s handwriting.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” I pulled out my phone, flipped through the pictures, and showed him.

  “We’ll examine them side-by-side when I get back this afternoon. Do you want to be taken back to the penthouse or somewhere else?”

  “Back to the penthouse, please.” I knew Jacques had an afternoon appointment and then maybe we were having dinner with his uncle.

  “Have you heard back from your uncle about dinner?”

  “Not yet.”

  “What time do you think you’ll be home?”

  “I should be back around six.”

  I thought some more about what the detective said to my mother about forensic evidence. “Do you think Andrews has found some extra evidence or something?”

  Jacques shook his head. “No, I’m sure he just wanted your mother to tell you he’d been there, and hoped she’d repeat what he’d said. He’s only trying to frighten you. Don’t worry.” He stroked my arm and it calmed me slightly.

  “Hopefully that’s all.” I’d only been in jail for a few hours when they thought I’d killed Donald, but that was enough for me.

  Once I was in the penthouse, I was anxious to compare the handwriting I had in my phone with the envelope that had contained Don’s document—the one with all the secrets he’d learned about my grandmother and Jacques’ grandfather.

  I headed straight to Jacques’ den to find the envelope.

  As I searched through the drawers in Jacques’ desk, I hoped he wouldn’t mind me looking around. When I got to the last drawer, I found it under some files. I pulled it out. Once the document was in my hands, I recalled that Don had claimed he had information on Jacques’ compound and knew the security codes. Jacques hadn’t seemed worried about that so I had assumed Don was lying about that. Breathing out heavily, I brought up the photos of Andrews’ handwriting on my phone I looked at each letter and compared it to the envelope. Just like I thought, they were an exact match. Snap!

  It was another piece of the puzzle and the picture was forming. The picture told me that Detective Andrews was most likely a shifter who was working with the police and he also was a member of The Light. He’d forced Don to gather information in return for squashing embezzlement charges.

  I took the envelope out to the living room, slumped down on the couch and placed it on the coffee table in front of me. After staring at it for some time, I fought off the scary images that sprang to mind about what might happen next with Andrews having all that information.

  Overwhelmed, I headed to the fridge and poured myself a glass of champagne.

  It’d been a big mistake for Detective Andrews to write that envelope in his own handwriting, but had it been a mistake? Or had he wanted me to realize it was he who knew all those things? I shook my head. Surely if he wanted me to know he knew about Jacques and my grandmother, he could’ve done that by dropping hints or by telling me face-to-face.

  To take my mind off things, I settled back onto the couch with my bubbles in hand, ignored the envelope and all the secrets it held, and flicked on the TV. It was still a couple of hours away from Jacques coming home, so I flicked through the channels until I found something to watch.

  The next thing I knew, I was awake and Jacques was in the room. Groggily, I straightened up, picked up the remote, and turned the TV off. “How long have you been home?” I rubbed my eyes.

  He grinned. “Not long.”

  “Oh no. I hope I wasn’t sleeping with my mouth open.”

  He laughed as he sat down next to me. “Just a little bit.”

  I picked up the envelope. “Look at this. I found this in your den. I hope you don’t mind me looking through things.”

  “Of course not. I’ve got nothing to hide. Is it his handwriting?”

  “It’s exactly the same.” I passed him my phone so he could see the photo.

  Jacques picked up the envelope with his other hand and compared the handwriting side-by-side. “It’s a match all right.” He passed my phone back. “We already knew that they were working together in some capacity—Detective Andrews and Donald. Why would Andrews want you to know about it, though?”

  “Do you think he thought he was doing me a favor, by warning me about you? He probably was having me followed and knew we were close.”

  “It’s possible.”

  “If not, why would he send the info Donald had gathered to me? That’s the only thing I can think of.”

  “Maybe you’
re right.” He sat there staring at the envelope.

  “Should I ask him if he sent it?”

  “That would be far too dangerous.” Jacques leaned back after he had tossed the envelope on the coffee table.

  “I don’t think I’d be in danger from the detective.”

  “I was thinking of the pack as well. It would open up a dialogue about me, the pack, and your grandmother. And my grandfather who I never met because your dear old Granny killed him.”

  “Yes, I see what you mean. That wouldn’t be a good idea.” I stood up. “I should get ready. Oh, is your uncle coming for dinner?”

  “Yes. He said he’d love to have dinner with us.”

  That made me happy. I was soon going to meet Jacques’ only relation—the man who’d raised him. “Great!”

  “He’s meeting us at the restaurant.”

  “When do we need to leave?”

  “Any time. Whenever you’re ready. He’ll be waiting at the bar for us.” Jacques chuckled. “He likes his wine. I have to warn you of that straight up.”

  “Okay. I’ll get ready.”

  “Come here first.”

  I walked back close to him and he pulled me back down on the couch with him. He put his arm around me and leaned in and pressed his lips against mine. My head was giddy with his musky masculine scent. His jawline was rough with a hint of a slight growth of beard that made him look super sexy.

  “I love you, Destiny,” he whispered in my ear, which made me giggle.

  He didn’t say it often, which made me appreciate it even more when he did. “I love you too.”

  “Is there room in that shower for two?” he asked.

  “That might make us late.”

  A smile met his lips as he stood up and swept me into his arms. “Believe me, my uncle won’t even notice.”

  CHAPTER 13

  J acques had previously told Uncle Milford who I was, and that my grandmother was the witch who’d killed his father. He was prepared to accept me because I’d changed into a shifter and had turned my back on my family. That wasn’t quite true. I had rejected them in the sense that I didn’t want to be a witch like they were, and that was it. It could cause a problem if his uncle found out otherwise.

  When we walked into the restaurant, Jacques guided me toward the crowded bar. Classical music was playing softly in the background and on one side of the room I could see into a cigar room where men were smoking and drinking scotch. It was like one of the rooms I’d seen in the movies where women weren’t welcome. Hopefully, that wasn’t the case here.

  Under our feet was plush red carpet and the bar area was an impressive horseshoe shape, and high, round tables were placed around the room.

  I noticed a familiar man standing with his back to us. I stopped still and grabbed Jacques’ arm.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “That man there. I saw that man at Granny’s house. I’d swear to it.”

  “What man?” he asked.

  “That man in the dark blue suit.”

  Jacques looked at the man and then looked back at me. “When did you see him at your grandmother’s house?”

  “It was ages ago. I sneaked into her house one night when she was supposed to be at her bridge game. I was looking for evidence to connect her to the snake venom that was in Donald’s system. She came home early and had that man with her. Now he’s one of her customers.”

  Jacques looked worried then he pulled me over to the side of the room. “Exactly what did she say about that man?”

  “Oh, wait a minute. That’s not your uncle, is it?”

  He nodded. “Destiny, it’s important that you remember. What did your grandmother say about him?”

  I swallowed hard as I thought. “She said he was a friend of one of the women at the bridge night. His wife was a TV reporter and she’d just left him and the man was devastated. She said one of her friends mentioned to him that my grandmother made love potions and spells for people, and he asked her if she would do a spell to get his wife back.” I looked into Jacques’ face. “Does your uncle have a wife on TV?”

  Jacques shook his head. “He never married.” His eyes traveled to his uncle who still had his back turned. “It’s a shame you didn’t see his face.”

  “The man I saw was the same shape. And I heard his voice. I wouldn’t one hundred percent know if it was the same voice, but if he had a voice distinctly different to the one I heard, I’d know it wasn’t him.”

  Jacques pulled me into his arms. “If it was him, I wonder what he was doing there?”

  I knew Jacques didn’t like the sound of it. And neither did I. But I’d have to put on a happy face to greet this man because it was possible he could tap into my thoughts. Shifters had varying degrees of proficiency at picking up other people’s thoughts. “Will he read my mind and know that I saw him at Granny’s?”

  “Don’t think about him being at your grandmother’s. Don’t think about your grandmother at all.”

  “Isn’t that like saying, ‘don’t think of a pink elephant?’”

  “Concentrate on me the whole time and if you find your mind wandering to your grandmother or him at her house, picture me naked instead. That’ll give my uncle a fright if he’s started reading your thoughts.”

  “Okay, I’ll happily do that.”

  Jacques smiled at me and then held my hand. “Just think of him as my uncle and nothing else. Okay? Can you do that?”

  I nodded.

  We walked over to the man and Jacques tapped him on the shoulder. When he turned around, I saw a very pleasant elderly man with a handsome face.

  CHAPTER 14

  J acques tapped him on his shoulder. “Hello there, Uncle.”

  Jacques’ Uncle Milford smiled at Jacques and then looked at me. “You must be Destiny.”

  I nodded and was almost certain his was the voice I’d heard at Granny’s when I was hiding behind the door. “Yes, I’ve heard a lot about you,” I said, smiling while I tried to erase all thoughts from my mind.

  He laughed. “Well, you can forget everything you’ve heard about me. Absolutely none of it’s true.”

  I laughed. “It was all good. No need to worry about that. Jacques has only got good things to say about you.”

  He looked at Jacques. “Is that true?”

  “Of course it’s true.” He slapped his uncle on the back.

  “Are you two having a drink or shall we go straight to the table?” Milford asked both of us.

  Jacques looked at me to see what I wanted to do. “I’m fine either way,” I said, figuring I would just have sparkling water if Jacques wanted to stay at the bar. That way I could keep a level head.

  “I think we can go to the table now. Bring the drink with you,” Jacques said to his uncle.

  “I intended to.”

  Stifling a giggle when I wondered if Milford knew I was thinking of Jacques’ naked body, I headed through to the restaurant in the adjacent room. When I stepped in, I was impressed. The ceilings were high, and huge windows showed off the skyline that was lit up with millions of twinkling lights against the dark blanket of the night. What I didn’t like were all the towering marble columns throughout the room. Although they would’ve made any ancient Greek person feel at home.

  The food was obviously good going by the fact that nearly every table in the room was occupied. When we were seated, Jacques and his uncle discussed the wine on the drinks list. I knew nothing about wine except some was red and some white, so I didn’t have anything to add.

  While they were deciding whether they’d have a wine with fruity overtones or one with high top notes, I studied Uncle Milford. He had the same strong jaw line as Jacques and that led me to wonder what Jacques’ father would’ve looked like.

  Milford looked up and caught me staring at him. “And are you a red or a white wine drinker, Destiny?” he asked me.

  “I like anything with bubbles,” I said with a smile.

  “Champagne?” he asked.<
br />
  I nodded.

  “Destiny has expensive tastes,” Jacques said.

  “I don’t think I do,” I said, looking at Jacques and wondering what he was talking about.

  “The champagne you drink every night costs five hundred a bottle.”

  I gasped. “I had no idea. That’s why it tastes so good.”

  Milford laughed. “You’ll fit in well with the family, Destiny.”

  “I hope so.”

  “And congratulations to the both of you on your upcoming nuptials.”

  I giggled. “Thank you.”

  “Thank you, Uncle,” Jacques said, smiling.

  “I’ll have to think of a suitable wedding gift.”

  Jacques shook his head. “That’s not necessary.”

  “Of course it is. I’ll think of something. Don’t worry; it’ll come to me.” With his next breath, he asked, “Do you want lots of children, Destiny?”

  I was surprised at his bold question, and I wasn’t the only one.

  “One minute, we’re choosing a bottle of wine and the next…” Jacques stared at his uncle in disbelief.

  Milford laughed. “We’ve got to increase our population somehow.”

  “There are other ways of doing that, Uncle Milford.”

  “You choose the wine. I’m feeling like a red. Something dry and tangy.”

  The waiter approached, and Jacques ordered a bottle of red and a bottle of champagne.

  When the waiter left, I said, “I hope I’m going to get some help with that bottle. I can’t drink that all on my own.” I looked at Milford. “I normally only have one glass a day.” I don’t know what made me tell him that.

  “Except when you go to lunch with Abbie,” Jacques pointed out.

  I frowned at him. “That’s a different thing altogether.”

  Milford chuckled. “You sound like a married couple already.”

  I didn’t know if I liked the sound of that.

  “It does feel like I’ve known Destiny all my life,” Jacques said.

  “Maybe Destiny is your destiny.” Milford looked pleased with himself for coming up with that one.

  Jacques shook his head. “I was wondering how long it would take you to say that.” Jacques looked at me. “My uncle finds plays on words amusing.”