by Diana Orgain
“You sure are an angry little man.”
“Little?” I snap. “Quit following me!”
“Um … no,” the crow says, continuing to flutter along behind me and chitter chatter the entire time. He asks me a thousand questions, most of which I don’t answer. He does manage to get out of me that I’ve been cursed by a witch, and this gets his feathers all ruffled in his excitement.
“Ah! Witches!” he screeches. “Got a cousin who worked for one those.”
“Bull crap,” I say, and I glance up at him.
“No, seriously! It’s a good gig. Certain animals like us ravens are drawn to them,” he says as though this is something to be proud of.
“I thought you were a crow,” I say.
“How dare you!” he caws, and his feathers puff out in all directions.
“Oh, shut up,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Wait, what do you mean by being drawn to them?”
“Well, every witch is different,” the crow says. “They all have different strengths–ways they draw their abilities like …”
“Scent?” I ask, thinking of Maeve.
“Yes!” the crow exclaims. “Others need an animal companion. Black cats. Ravens. Spiders. Hell hounds–if that’s your taste, but stay away from those sorts of witches. Then there are owls. Rats. Think of them as spirit animals for witches and wizards.”
“You know a lot about witches?” I ask curiously.
“Man, I’m a raven! Of course I do,” he brags. “And one of these days I’m going to find one. There’s one here in this town, I know. I can feel it.”
“There is,” I say. “But sorry, Crow-boy, she’s a scent-drawn witch. And even if she wasn’t and needed a pet, she’s already got one, and it’s me.”
“What? No! I wouldn’t have been drawn here otherwise! I flew miles to get here! Maybe there’s more than one witch in Wisteria Pines? And don’t call me Crow-boy!” he says.
“What’s your name then?” I ask.
“I don’t have a name,” he says.
I think for a moment. “Damien?” I suggest. It sounds wizardly to me.
“Did you just give me a name?” he sounds very excited. Why do animals get so excited to have a person give them a name? I remember Fuzzball getting all worked up when Penny named her Tonya.
“Sure,” I say. “Listen, Damien. I think I could use a little sidekick–especially one that knows about witches. What do you say?”
“Are you kidding? You might be my ticket to a witch,” he says and lands on my shoulder.
“Okay, that’s cool, but you better get off me if you see someone coming. I don’t want anyone thinking I’m crazy,” I say.
“You do realize you’re talking to a bird, right? Most animal-drawn witches can’t even do that! We’re riding the crazy train together, my friend, and you’re the conductor,” he squawks.
We round the corner and arrive at Maeve’s café in time to see a coroner shaking his head and pronouncing the mayor dead.
I cringe; I mean, I didn’t know the man personally, but still!
Was there something I should have done when I had gotten that whiff?
Oh, man, is Maeve okay?
I search around for her. She’s standing near the ambulance speaking with the paramedics. Relief loosens my stomach, and I breathe easier now that I have spotted her.
My girl is alright. Thank goodness.
“So what is it with ravens and death?” I ask Damien.
“What an awful stereotype! How dare you!” the raven squawks and flies off my shoulder, finding himself a car to sit on in the parking lot. Leave it to me to insult a bird.
The ambulance drives away with the mayor’s body. There are a handful of officers including Officer No-Chance-With-Maeve Joseph hanging around a very frazzled café shop owner.
“So you’re telling us you haven’t called the Los Angeles Police Department yet like we asked?” one officer asks with his brow scrunched up in frustration.
“I told Joseph I was going to do it today,” Maeve says. “Give me a break–the news of my ex-fiancé going missing is a little troubling. Plus, it’s the opening weekend of my shop! I got home late last night and was at work early. And I only have one employee.”
“Yeah, the little punk, Donnie,” another officer grumbles.
“Hey, easy, Steven,” Officer Joseph says. “Donnie is a good kid.”
I don’t want to get too close and creep Maeve out, but I have an idea.
“Hey, Damien,” I whisper to my bird friend. “Fly over there and listen in on what those cops are saying to that woman and report back.”
“On it!” Damien says and flutters off, landing on top of one of the patrol cars. Having a bird for a sidekick might actually pay off. The next thing I know, Maeve is climbing into the back of one of the patrol cars.
Is she in trouble?
Damien gets swatted away by one of the officers, so he returns to my side.
“Well?” I ask.
“Something about wanting her to come down to the station to make a phone call and answer some questions about the mayor,” Damien says.
It sounds like Maeve really could be in trouble. I better do something.
Wait!
This is it! I can totally rush down to the station, show up, and be the hero. Make sure they release Maeve and give them all hell for daring to drag her down there in the first place. That’ll definitely get her attention!
Watch–I’ll sweet talk my way into getting Maeve released before they even know what hit em!
And off we go–my wingman flying along above me. Ha! I’m hilarious.
It takes me a while to get to the station on foot, and my wingman has to wait outside. By the time I finally get inside, I’m told that Maeve is on the phone, and I’ll have to wait. The next thing I know, one of the cops in the building is pointing at me, and I smile. It seems I have been recognized.
“Are you Chuck Lowry?” one guy asks, and I nod.
Yes, let my celebrity status hypnotize you all.
Maybe if I charm all the cops, it’ll make it easier to get Maeve released.
The next thing I know I’m signing autographs.
What can I say?
I love the attention. Always have–why else would you go into show business other than to be adored by fans? Then I spot her. Maeve is walking with Officer Joseph in tow, and I frown.
Looks like the hero of the day was Joseph, not me.
How the hell did that happen?
“Chuck?” Maeve spots me across the way, and she and Officer Guitar Boy come trotting over.
“What are you doing here? Other than signing autographs, I mean.” She sounds like she wants to laugh at me.
“Well,” I say. “I saw you being put in the back of a cop car. Thought I’d come down here to make sure everything is okay?”
She looks at me like I’m crazy. “You came all the way from the café to the station?” she questions. “You don’t even know me.”
Okay. I should have opened with something less creepy, but the girl has got to give me some credit for caring, right?
“Everything all right?” I ask, hoping she’s not about to tell me she was arrested for whatever happened to the mayor.
“Everything’s fine,” Officer Joseph answers for her. “Our mayor had a fatal heart attack at her establishment, and we needed her to come in and answer some questions.”
“You know, man, it’s really condescending to answer questions for a lady,” I say. “Don’t be so misogynistic. It’s the twenty-first century.”
Officer Joseph’s face turns red, and he looks rather flustered. “I wasn’t–I wasn’t trying to …”
“It’s all right, Joseph,” Maeve says, letting out a loud moan. “Today could not possibly get any worse. It’s my first day running the café, and my dog is missing, someone dies on the premises, and that phone call with LAPD has me on edge.”
“I’m sorry,” Officer Not-Good-Enough-For-Maeve says.
&nb
sp; It’s never going to happen buddy, you better let it go.
An idea hits me. Of course! Wanda!
“Your dog is missing?” I say, focusing the conversation on that.
“Yeah,” she says. “Since last night. I’m starting to get a little worried.”
“Well, maybe I’ll see what I can do about that,” I say, and she looks at me like I’m an idiot.
“You’re going to find my dog?” she asks in the most sarcastic tone I have ever heard.
“Why not?”
Officer Joseph snorts like he too thinks I’m nuts. “Okay then,” Maeve says. “She’s about this high –” she leans down and places her palm at her knee, “–and she’s mostly brown. A little shaggy.” Maeve chuckles.
Officer Joseph clears his throat. “You ready to go back to the café now, Maeve?”
Maeve straightens. “Yes, thank you.”
Officer Joseph turns to me as they leave “Hey, Chuck, good luck with the whole dog hunt.”
They think I’m stupid, but wait until Wanda shows up.
That should definitely get Maeve’s attention.
I leave the station, and my wingman is still waiting. “Struck out, huh?”
“Shut up,” I say. I only have a few more hours left in the day, and I’m going to use them to my advantage. Definitely don’t want to show up next month wearing her ex-fiancé’s clothes again, so I go shopping and get a few outfits. Then, I’ll be good to go.
I make my way back to Maeve’s house with Damien on my shoulder. Together we chat about different options to make Maeve realize who I really am.
None of my options seem good.
When we get to her house, I find that in my human form I don’t have the magickal ability to open doors that I had as Wanda.
“So, we stand around and wait?” Damien asks.
“Wait? No way. I’m a take charge kind of guy! If you hadn’t noticed,” I say to Damien.
“I have noticed that every time you take charge, something bad—“
“Shut up, bird brain!”
I jog around to the back of the house and notice that, thankfully, she’s left a back window open. I leap through the window, only I’m not as athletic as a man as I am as Wanda. I crack my elbow on the floor and it feels numb.
I hope I didn’t just break my arm.
Chapter Five
Maeve
Maeve sat in the interrogation room at the local Wisteria Falls police department, gripping the phone they’d brought in for her to use. On the other end of the line was Officer Rick Harrison a Police Captain of the LAPD. The man seemed like a decent fellow honestly trying to get answers and not sound condescending, but Maeve could tell he was suspicious of her.
She supposed that it would make sense for her to be a suspect–Frank was her ex, after all, and spurned lovers were always the top suspects.
“So, you see, Ms. O’Dare,” the man’s voice buzzed in her ear, “why we were so concerned when you abruptly left town.”
“Yes, I understand,” Maeve said, her hands shaking. Joseph had told her that an Uber car found at the bottom of a lake near the Mexican border had her ex’s DNA inside, but Captain Harrison had just thrown another monkey wrench into her situation: they had found evidence of an affair.
“I had no idea he had been cheating on me … and you’re saying the Uber driver I called was the same woman he was cheating with?”
“Yes,” the man said. “There was definitely a reason that car was in your neighborhood and therefore the closest one to answer the call.”
Maeve took several deep breaths. And to think I had actually been worried about Frank!
Oh … who am I kidding? I’m still worried about that dirt bag!
“But you haven’t found Frank? Or the driver?” she asked. “So he could be alive, right? He might be okay–right?”
“That’s what we’re hoping. Now, I need you to listen very carefully. I could subpoena you and have you come all the way back here to L.A, but I’m not going to do that. Honestly, it would be a waste of time since we don’t have any evidence or even know whether or not Frank is okay. I’m going to ask you very nicely, Ms. O’Dare, that you stay in Wisteria Pines so that we can contact you. And I ask that you stay in regular contact with me during this investigation or risk pinning yourself as a flight risk and potential suspect. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir,” she said nervously. At this point, she wouldn’t dare do anything to make herself look even more suspicious than she already did.
“Good,” he said. “We’ll be in touch.”
Maeve hung up the phone, and Joseph entered almost as soon as she did with a cup of coffee in hand. “I know it’s not as good as the stuff you serve at your café, but I thought you could use this,” he said as he sat across from her. “What did he say to you?”
“Oh, don’t give me that, Joseph. I know you were listening in the whole time,” she said.
He shrugged. “Okay, maybe I was. I’m sorry about Frank.”
“You know, I suspected that he’d been cheating. I mean, who just up and leaves like that? I was content with just being angry at him, but now he might be hurt … I’m still angry, but I’m worried about the stupid cheater now too. That’s not fair. I shouldn’t have to feel this way. I should just be able to be angry about the affair and about him leaving me without a word, like a coward! But no, Frank has managed to find a way to still haunt me and make me feel like the guilty one. I shouldn’t have to feel guilty.”
Joseph handed her the coffee. “Why do you feel guilty?” He sat in the empty chair beside her.
Maeve’s stomach dropped, and her throat tightened. Frank was a lot of things, but he certainly did not deserve to get hurt. “Because I wished it on him,” Maeve admitted. “Have you ever been so angry at someone that you just wished something bad would happen to them?”
Joseph blinked at her without saying a word, and guilt overwhelmed Maeve.
“I did,” she confessed. “I was so angry! And now something really bad could have happened. They said they didn’t find a body in the car, so what am I supposed to think? Are he and his little tramp girlfriend at the bottom of the lake? Or did they just crash and ditch the car and move on and not tell anybody? I don’t know how to feel or what to think. And now the police are calling me telling me not to leave town! I’m not stupid–I’m the scorned woman! I know I must be a suspect for the missing persons’ case. How could I not be?”
Joseph pressed a palm to his forehead and avoided her eyes. Maeve stared him down.
“Joseph?” she asked.
He sighed. “Frank’s case is not the only one you need to be worrying about.”
Maeve slammed her coffee onto the table, hot liquid splashing over the side. “What do you mean, Joseph?”
“There’s talk going around the department about Mayor James. Witnesses say you gave him a glass of water right before he died. Some people have already come forward saying you were talking about James last night at the grand opening–that you’re upset he denied your permit. So … you kind of have a motive …”
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Maeve snapped. “Wait … Mayor James had a heart attack, right?”
“The forensic pathologist called while you were on the line with the LAPD,” Joseph explained. “We don’t have a lot of information yet, but it sounds like someone killed James.”
“He was in distress long before he entered my café,” Maeve said to defend herself. “I only got him the water because he was out of breath and sweaty and acting sick.”
“I know. But to be honest, after you solved Nadine’s case, you embarrassed a few cops,” Joseph said. “People are saying they can’t do their jobs. Some of the cops want to quiet you down …”
“So, a few egos get bruised, and I’m suspect number one?” Maeve seethed.
Joseph flinched at her tone. “Don’t worry about those apes; you have a friend here to keep them in line.”
Maeve took a deep
breath. “What other suspects do you have?”
“Pretty much the same suspects as the Nadine case,” Joseph said. “Seeing as how Nadine’s killer had really been after James.”
“Well, Eleanor is in prison, so we could probably rule her out,” Maeve said. “Although … her ex-husband is back in town. Could Christopher still be holding a grudge for the affair?”
“Tommy Ether is in a legal battle with James over his land,” Joseph added.
Maeve dismissed the comment with a wave. “Tommy wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
“Nadine’s brother is in town,” Joseph said. “Could he blame Mayor James for his sister’s murder?”
“I didn’t even think of that,” Maeve said. “Wow. At least we have a place to start.”
“Not we,” Joseph said.
“What,” she said.
“The police have a place to start. Not you. You are a local business owner that’s going to keep her nose out of criminal matters.” He stood. “Right?”
She knew he was looking for assurance, but she decidedly left him hanging. “Thanks for being straight with me Joseph. Now, I have to get back to my shop. I left Donnie in charge.”
“Donnie? You mean the kid who went to jail for armed robbery? You left him alone in your cafe with the cash register?” Joseph asked. “Got to say, I question your judgment there.”
“Everyone deserves a second chance. I trust Donnie; he hasn’t given me a reason not to; and you even told those cops he is a good kid,” Maeve said as they exited the interrogation room. “Oh, for crying out loud, please tell me I’m imagining this.”
Maeve nodded toward a group of officers who were gathered around Chuck Lowry, obtaining autographs. “Is he following you?” Joseph asked as they approached. “I swear, he must be following you.”
“I don’t know if I have the energy for this again,” Maeve moaned. “Chuck?” she asked once they were close enough. “What are you doing here? Other than signing autographs, I mean.”
She certainly did not expect his response. “Well. I saw you being put in the back of a cop car. Thought I’d come down here to make sure everything is okay?”
