Magic, Mystery & Zombies: YA starter set

by Elle Klass

  Old Habits Die Hard

  Sam informed us he needed an indefinite hiatus to return to America. His mother fell ill, and the doctors didn’t expect her to live much longer. I wished Sam the best as he departed. I’d miss him and his to-the-point personality but Sighed relief to be on my own again - freedom.

  Early the morning after Sam left I glanced through the many hotel photo books looking for pictures of Didier’s parents. I wanted to put together something special for him as a wedding gift. An hour into my search with a few fantastic pictures I spotted one of Didier and a young girl. Her pointy nose and witchy chin rang bells. Although she was much younger in the picture, I was positive it was the woman from the party. Didier knew her. I slipped the picture from the album sleeve to ask Jean, the concierge, if he remembered her. If anybody did, it would be him. He’d been an employee at the hotel since Didier wore diapers.

  Luckily for me, few customers were checking in and out so Jean wasn’t busy. He greeted me with a warm smile and said in his deep French accent, “Bonne après midi madame."

  “Good afternoon, Jean. I’ve been looking through pictures and I wanted your suggestions since you worked for Didier’s parents.”

  “Oui, oui.” He said as his lips curled upwards into a smile. I handed him the pictures, he looked through them, and carried on with a story behind each one. The final picture was of the young woman and Didier. He held it up to the light, in English with a heavy accent, said, “This is old. Her mother worked here in the kitchen and many a time she brought the girl, Halette or Halie as her mom often called her. Ah… she and Didier were good friends. She had a crush on him but then her family moved when her grandpa fell ill and they left to care for him. I think he would enjoy that picture.”

  “Do you remember her last name?”

  He squinted his eyes upwards while furrows crossed his forehead. “So long ago… oui… Hardy, yes her father was an Englishman.”

  “Thanks for your help, Jean.” I poured over my computer looking for a Halette Hardy. With a name that strange she couldn’t be too difficult to find. After a couple searches I found her address.

  The following day I packed my purse with a getaway costume, prettied myself up and used an ever popular female excuse. “I’m going shopping.” Didier bought it and extended me a credit card.

  The windows in her flat drawn open exposing the inside, I saw no movement. It had been a while since I “staked out” a residence. From a nearby café I watched while drinking coffee and reading. After thirty minutes of observing inactivity I snuck into her second floor flat in an older building

  While primping for “my shopping day” I tucked my hair into a beret using bobby pins. I pulled one out of my hair, slipped gloves over my hands, and picked at her door lock. When I heard the clicking sound I knew my lock-picking effort was successful.

  I opened the door and stood before a sparsely furnished studio with a couple antiques and simple furniture. By the main living space window set a small round table with two reclining chairs and to the left, a kitchenette with two chairs on each side of a small rectangular block table. Papers piled inches above its surface. I dug through the pile underneath it and found a ticket to Aruba and pay stubs from a place called Mangeons. In her bedside dresser, buried in the bottom of her drawer I discovered a stack of letters written to Didier. I read through them and gagged at her drippy syrupy “I love you more than I can express” garbage. A blond wig lay beside her pile of love letters.

  Footfalls in the hall outside her apartment alerted my attention then a jiggling sound of keys at the door left no room for doubt, I was no longer alone. Crap! I stole inside her closet and buried myself behind a huge coat. From slats in the closet, I saw her grabbing something from the top of her dresser. She didn’t take off her shoes or set down her purse meaning her stay would be short, and I could leave in a few minutes. I stood motionless, not wanting to draw her attention my way, and waited. As soon as she turned the door knob to leave, her phone rang. She halted for a minute and talked then continued out the door. Whew! I wiped the sweat off my forehead. That had been a close call.

  I allowed her enough time to leave the building, on a spontaneous notion I grabbed her blond wig and a ghostly crepe dress, and stuffed them into my bag. To spook her I used her lipstick to scribble over her letters to Didier, It’s you who doesn’t belong. Satisfaction welled up inside me as I marched out of her apartment wearing her blond wig.

  I took the wig and dress with no clue how I’d use them; however, the refreshing walk home, and the familiar sight of street vagabonds allowed an idea to form inside my head, and a smile crept across my lips.

  Payback’s a Bitch

  Halette claimed to manage a catering company but was in truth one of the cooks, not even the head chef! One of the ladies' charity groups I worked with was planning a banquet. I suggested Mangeons to cater, and she gave me the responsibility of booking. I called and made the arrangements, making sure that Halette was on the crew preparing and serving at the banquet.

  Her DNA came back, and heralded nothing, no match in the system, which meant she had no arrests. But none of that mattered because I knew who she was, and her life was about to get a lot more complicated.

  I found a transient, Gerty, who willingly took my money to wear Halette’s wig and designer French clothing, a flowing cream dress made of crepe like material, while strutting across her path a few times. For a few nights I paid for a room in one of Paris’ finest hotels and offered her a bulk of cash; I hoped she would use it wisely.

  The night of the banquet, Gerty did a fabulous job and proved well worth the money. As Halette worked in the kitchen with the head chef preparing last minute food details Gerty strolled past her the first time. She walked past an open door leading from the kitchen, lingered in front of the door for just a moment before continuing, her back to Halette whose eyes followed Gerty. The second time Gerty passed, Halette carried a large serving tray. Gerty cocked her head downward as she almost floated past and Halette grew agitated and upset, her eyes expanded to the size of saucers and fear shot across her face. The final time Gerty passed, she lightly brushed past her from the backside. Halette immediately alerted to the touch and spun on her heels as Gerty walked out the kitchen door. She followed her out the door and down the street as if in a trance then Gerty disappeared as I paid her to do. The entire time, I made myself invisible as I didn’t want Halette to notice me and ruin the fun.

  I floated in and out of the guests before making my way to the security room with plates of food and drinks. The security guys were more than pleased with my generosity and loved my company. I watched the cameras while intriguing them with my feminine wiles until Gerty disappeared out the back. Halette followed her outside - my cue to finish what she started. There were no cameras outside so nobody would realize I was following her and I had a great alibi.

  There was a chill in the air, and street lamps carried a soft warm glow above my head. Gerty disappeared from Halette’s sight on a second story landing made of metal. Halette twisted and turned to find her, to no avail. She tiptoed towards the steps, as I dressed in the same garb as Gerty wore, made my way up the staircase towards her. “Hello, Halette, I’m so glad to meet you.” I maintained a calm, cool voice.

  She backed against the wall of the building and stammered, “How d… do… you know my n… name and why do you have m… my wig and dress?”

  “You’re the smart one. Who am I?”

  She muttered under her breath and I responded, “I’m sorry I didn’t hear that. Could you speak a tad bit louder?”

  I edged closer my face illuminated and visible to her. “Justine, but you’re not really. You’re a fraud.”

  A sly smile twisted across my lips. “Then who am I?”

  “I… I… don’t know, but you’re not Justine Holmes from Texas. Didier should be told.”

  I continued my glide up the steps. “Didier knows everything about me.” That was a huge lie, but he didn�
��t need to know more and there was so much about myself that I didn’t understand. “Halie, can I call you that? Thanks.” My voice a soothing almost-whisper. Beside her now, visible sweat beads formed on her forehead and her body tensed. My lips were within inches of her ear as I leaned towards her ear and whispered, “Stay out of my life.”

  She responded with actions instead of words pushing my body backwards. In an instant I fell in reverse and my fight or flight senses kicked on in self-defense. I grabbed hold of her as my body fell back and hit the metal grating behind me, she flew over the edge. I jumped up, looked towards the ground and spotted her limp body smashed against the pavement, blood pooling from her head. Butterflies of sorrow fluttered their wings inside me as I ran down the stairs and through the alley, barely glancing her way.

  At a safe distance I stripped my undercover clothes away, along with the wig, and stuffed them inside a dumpster. Payphones in Paris took credit cards, which I considered under the circumstances would be foolish to use. That spoiled the entire anonymous thing. I wasn’t going to use the cell Didier gave me, so I left her. Who was I kidding even if emergency calls could be made for free I wasn’t about to incriminate myself. My conscience felt a slight tinge of guilt even though my actions were in self-defense. My prank brought her there and got her killed. I only meant to scare her.

  With my morals getting the better of me, I sauntered back to the scene of the crime. If anyone asked I’d use the excuse I went for fresh air to cover up my discovery of her body. When I returned to Halette’s body a car beat me to her parked beside the building, a man slung her into the trunk. I hid myself from his view and watched him close the trunk lid, get into the vehicle and drive away. Curiosity getting the better of me, I followed on foot until coming across a taxi.

  “Where to?”

  “Please follow that black sedan. The gentleman lost his wallet and I want to return it.” I hoped I made my voice convincing. Either way, he continued on and followed Halette and her abductor.

  The black sedan stopped near a bridge and I asked the cabby to let me out and circle back in twenty minutes, paying him double for the favor. Mist rose from the ground, creating a natural cover as I spied from a safe distance. The sedan driver dumped Halette’s body into the river. The familiarity of his bulk forced me to edge closer through the surreal fog until I had a better view. He turned his head towards my direction, on impulse, I molded my body to the nearest tree. I was close enough to see his eyes bouncing in their sockets. Mr. Dancy Eyes! He followed me, but I didn’t understand why he was covering up my crime. My own paranoia believed he meant to harm me. Then he drove off, leaving me in a quandary.

  All Good Things Must Come to an End

  A couple days after the Halette incident, and a few days before mine and Didier’s wedding, my latest escapade still weighed on my mind like a load of gold bricks. My thoughts raced in circles. I couldn’t stay, fearing Halettes’ body turning up bringing negative publicity and hurting Didier. The event occurred near an affair I hosted. I took care to conceal my part in her death but I wasn’t sure of my reaction when Halette’s body hit the news. If I sweated even the tiniest bit Didier would discern it. In my past life I performed many questionable acts, but I never on purpose or by accident, killed another human being.

  Mr. Dancy Eyes dumping her body into the river brought my past stinging front and center in my life, looming around my very presence. Not only the nightmares of her face that haunted my dreams but the mystery of my real parents and why someone would want a baby dead. Didier was wonderful, but he didn’t know me. He knew Justine. His words, Justine will you marry me? Reverberated against the gray matter inside my head. It wouldn’t be right to marry a man I hadn’t been truthful with from the beginning? I loved being Justine and the woman at his side, but marriage? What if we had children? Would they be in danger and need personal bodyguards? Worse, they would have a fake mother!

  I lived with a web of lies and deceit entangling me, which continued to twist around my soul. I didn’t want to force that on anyone else - not my future children and not Didier. He meant more to me than entrapping him in my morbid life. People around me - the true me - died. I decided marrying him wasn’t possible. His proposal ruined a good thing - correction I ruined a good thing when I flipped Halette over the railing. How would I tell him? The self-doubt and shame bouncing in my head made me aware I needed a plan.

  My 24/7 bodyguards, Sam returned soon after my shameful incident, and my knight, Didier, compounded the ease of my plan making things far more difficult. The best chance for me to sneak out would be through my terrace at night using darkness as cover during Didier’s absence from my room. The terrace led across the top floor of the hotel, an old, rickety set of service stairs began at the end of the terrace leading to an unused area. I figured for safety I’d have to test them first.

  I requested to hold the ceremony at the hotel in all its grandiosity, which played into my plan, and requested to Didier to be alone the night before the wedding for formality. It wasn’t proper for the bride to sleep with the groom the night before their wedding. For our honeymoon, he was planning something ornate, too bad I would miss it. It was better I leave him now than he discover my secrets later. It would hurt him much less.

  The day before our wedding, I stayed in my room. People came in and out with last minute alterations and changes, but mostly I was alone. My white wedding dress looked like something belonging to Cinderella or Snow White and accentuated my curves. My body developed so much in the past couple of years I no longer looked sickly, waif-ish, or childish, but an eighteen year old full grown woman. Didier believed me to be twenty.

  With the wedding preparations finished and the hotel wedding hustle slowed, I organized myself for departure checking my backpack to make sure the items I came with were present. I was leaving with nothing more than I came, except the clothes on my back and the memories in my head. I wouldn’t forget Didier or his kindness towards me. I loved him, one day I’d be back. My heart ached with my choice of leaving but I saw no other alternative. My past came to the forefront of my life, to move forward I needed to move backwards and find the answers to my mysteries. To put my soul at ease and put an end to my hiding and fears I needed to find the answers to my cryptic birth and biological parents. I sat with paper and pen, but no words to say, nothing described the roller coaster my emotions were riding or why I was leaving. After several minutes of staring at the paper, I wrote…

  I love you. I’m sorry. Don’t forget me ever. I will never forget you.

  Justine

  With a heavy flow of tears pouring from my eyes I tucked each corner of my sheets underneath the mattress and smoothed the comforter so no wrinkles showed than placed my note on the edge of the bed. I pulled my hair into a floppy hat, grabbed my backpack and opened the terrace door without a squeak. Darkness had fallen, but the moon and stars cast a glow lighting my path as I gingerly walked across the terrace, through the gate, and towards the stairs.

  Every creak sounded like a siren. I feared each step on the rickety old stairs would send them and me tumbling to the ground. Halfway down the stairs swayed, my pulse quickened, and I grabbed for the railing and held on edging slow - one precious step at a time. When I placed my first foot on the asphalt it felt wonderful beneath my feet. I rested my back against the building for a few seconds, observed my surroundings while my pulse resumed its normal pace. I overheard the staff talking close by, so I waited.

  After many minutes, I heard footsteps pound off in the opposite direction. I edged closer to where they stood and peaked my head around the corner. The area was empty. With my backpack firmly on my shoulders I glided past the hotel to the street and walked for a few blocks, holding my head low.

  Once I was far enough from the hotel I hailed a taxi and asked the driver take me to the airport. On the ride, I thought about Didier waking up in the morning. I wouldn’t be there. He wouldn’t know this at first; not until his staff told him when there
was no answer from my room. The staff would come in using their key and I would be gone. I’m sure he would use financial resources to try and find me, but I’d again change my identity and appearance. Justine Holmes would be no more.

  To read the rest of the series click here.

  City by the Bay Book 3

  Bite the Big Apple Book 4

  Caribbean Heat Book 5

  Return to the Bay Book 6

  Prison of the Past Book 7

  Boxed Set - Books 1-4 also on KU. Also available in audio.

  Zombie Girl

  Premonition Book 1

  Chapter One

  I looked into my mother’s narrowed, steely eyes, then into my father’s and whimpered, conjuring a few real tears.

  “An ‘F’, Maddie?” My mother’s words blazed like a wild fire.

  So what? It was no big deal. I hated science. No, I hated my science teacher. She made us read the textbook. Boring! I didn’t give two licks about human anatomy or biology.

  I shot my eyes to the floor and sighed. “I’m sorry. I’ll ask for extra credit.”

  “Extra credit? You haven’t completed half the assignments.” I felt my father glowering at my head.

  “Go to your room, while your father and I decide your punishment,” piped my mom, disappointment in her voice.

  “While you’re there, think of what you need to do to bring this grade up before the end of the quarter.”

  I knew better than to complain. My parents worked as a team against me. Being an only child was tough; I had no one else to blame.