by Iris Kincaid
“And why, exactly?”
“Well, the pickax we retrieved from your property—forensics evidence—turns out it was not a good match for the murder weapon.”
“I already told you that.”
“So, you did. There was another matter I was hoping you could confirm. We were speaking to a Keith Nettle. You know him?”
“Yes, I know him.”
“He said that he and Byron Curtiss ran into you and your cousin, Abby. And that your cousin, Abby, called him a lying piece of garbage and said that he should be put in front of a firing squad and then thrown to the sharks. You recall these words?”
Gillian nodded reluctantly. “Yeah, that’s pretty much what she said.”
“She sounds a little bit unhinged. Violent, even.”
Gillian bristled at the implication. “You can stop right there. The only thing my cousin is guilty of is having a big mouth and having my back. Why don’t you go out and do something about a real genuine crime?” Gillian scolded him. She was actually on her way to do just that.
CHAPTER TWELVE
A few days earlier, Gillian had hired a security service to install tiny security cameras in every corner of Café Au Lait. They did a great job, and they did it in the middle of the night. The cameras were really difficult to spot. Gillian was able to confirm what she already knew—that Cara had taken up the embezzling right where Byron left off. The cameras inside the back room with the safe were particularly instructive. It looked as if she was skimming off maybe twenty percent of the profits. Time for a chat.
Cara joined Gillian in the back office, unaware of the ambush headed her way.
Gillian folded her arms. “It’s been a very busy week for me, so let’s handle this as quickly as possible. First, I’ll talk. Then you’ll talk. So, three days ago, I set up security cameras in this room, and there’s enough evidence of you stealing on them to put you in prison until your hair turns gray.” Gillian paused to enjoy the horrified reaction.
“Or it can go another way. Just to satisfy my curiosity. I want you to tell me everything. About you and Byron. About you and the money. And maybe I don’t need to go to the police. Maybe I’ll cut you some slack because I know you were under the influence of a very charming lout. Ready to talk?”
Cara nodded, petrified. “He needed me to keep quiet about the money that he was taking. So, he gave me a little bit every time. He pretended it was generosity. But now I think that, he knew that if he made me a thief, I’d never be able to say anything to anyone. After you two broke up, he came to me and said that he wasn’t going to be able to show his face at the coffeehouse anymore. But that was no reason to stop our arrangement. I just carry the money out in my bag, and we would split it.”
“He wasn’t handling the money anymore. Why would you even have to split it with him?”
“Because he threatened to squeal on me—isn’t that something? Blackmailing me, when he’s the one who dragged me into this.”
She sounded pretty angry. That appeared to be Byron Curtiss’s specialty. Dating women and enraging them.
“And after he died, you just kept right on.”
“I know I shouldn’t have. But, it was just so easy. I wish I had never found out how easy it was. So, do you really mean it when you said you're not taking me to the police?”
“I’ll keep my word. But Cara, it’s time to dust off your resume. You can stay one month. You’re lucky I just don’t have the time to hire someone right now. All this is assuming you don’t take another dime. The cameras are rolling.”
“I can do that.”
“You can go now.”
Cara shakily got to her feet then turned around when she made it to the door. “Ms. Swann. Have you ever done anything terrible that you wish with your whole heart you could take back?”
“You mean like getting involved with Byron Curtiss?”
“No. I mean something that you did.” Cara was exhibiting all the signs of stress that Gillian could see, considerably magnified—sweat, the pounding heart, throbbing veins, and the dampening of the brightness of her aura. Was this what remorse looked like?
*****
The FSBO continued with another individual appointment to see the house—an ambitious landlord hoping to acquire another summer property for rental. Vaughn drove his typical hard bargain. He told himself that he was doing it to make sure that Gillian could get a nice-sized nest egg out of the deal, especially after her ex had taken so much away from her.
But if he was honest with himself, he wasn’t entirely sure that he wasn’t just prolonging the process. Because after the house was sold, he and Gillian wouldn’t see nearly as much of each other . . . would they?
“Do you have any plans for tonight?” Gillian asked him.
“Not that I can think of,” Vaughn said with barely concealed glee. What did you have in mind?”
“There’s this big annual bonfire on the beach with music and dancing. But don’t expect Burning Man. It’s more like Burning Marshmallows. You’re allowed to throw anything in if it’s made of paper or wood, and I have something very special to throw into the fire this year. And I thought it be nice to have a friend there.”
“Sounds intriguing. What are we burning?”
Gillian went to the coat closet near the entry and retrieved her red and white cane.
“That looks like the kind of cane that blind people use,” Vaughn remarked.
“I was blind. It happened over about three years. My corneas had reached total failure. I had both eyes transplanted right before I met you.”
As Gillian had predicted, Vaughn was stunned into silence.
“So that’s what we’re burning. We’re burning this cane. I never want to lay eyes on it again. Wanna come with me?”
Vaughn nodded, head spinning with the enormity of what Gillian had so recently endured.
*****
The bonfire was in full swing by the time they arrived. It seemed that anyone within a 20 mile radius who owned a drum had brought it. It was an unapologetic artsy, hippy, dance-like-there’s-no-one-watching joyfest.
Vaughn watched as Gillian stood silently near the edge of the bonfire, eyes closed. He could only imagine what was going through her head. How helpless she must have felt in her blindness. How frightening and bleak life must have seemed. And how all the more unforgivable her ex-boyfriend’s betrayal now seemed. She had been blind when he did all that. It was deplorable beyond belief. And yet she had emerged from it was such strength.
Vaughn was going to need quite a bit of strength himself. His admiration for Gillian was starting to perilously resemble falling in love.
*****
Ready to start a new chapter in life, Gillian redoubled her energies toward all matters at hand. Not only did she have the selling of the house to tend to, but she now had to take care of all the little chores that Byron had attended to, including picking up Café Au Lait mail at the post office box. Oh, no. Why, oh why, did she have to keep crossing Simone Valentine’s path?
This time, neither of them was in the mood for discussion. They simply eyed one another in passing. Gillian glanced at the large bundle of letters and magazines that Simone was clutching. They were all addressed to a Karen Bennett. One was about a high school reunion. It had Simone’s youthful face on the top, her yearbook picture. Only it identified her as Karen Bennett! That was pretty interesting news. Simone was not her real name.
*****
In the police station, Gillian frowned at Officer Cochran. “Where’s Good Cop?”
This designation never failed to get a smile out of Finn. “Good Cop ran out to get some lunch. I’m afraid you’re going to have to deal with me.”
“I need you to do a criminal background check on Karen Bennett.”
“Who is Karen Bennett?”
“Simone Valentine. Simone is not her real name. Hey, did you already know that?”
“I’m sorry to say that we did not know that. We did a background on Ms. Val
entine, and it didn’t go back very far. I wanted to get more but we didn’t have probable cause for a warrant. But how’d you figure out the name?”
“It was on her mail. Can you do that background check? She was really angry at Byron for cheating on her with another woman.”
“Yeah, that would be Cara Brody, currently employed at the Café Au Lait.”
“Oh, that you knew about.”
“Sometimes, I just gotta lie back and see what you’re interested in telling me.” He shrugged apologetically and sat down at the nearest computer and logged in. “Bennett. Two Ns, two Ts?”
“Yes.” Gillian waited impatiently as Finn Cochran conducted an impromptu search.
“Okay. I got a visual. Karen Bennett and Simone Valentine are indeed one and the same.”
“And . . .?”
“Karen Bennett has been a bad girl. Robbery, fraud, forgery, embezzlement. Did a little bit of time way back when. Two years in a Pennsylvania prison. Hmm, nothing violent, though.”
“You need to start keeping an eye on Karen Bennett. And stop looking at my cousin!”
“You know she’s not really your cousin, don’t you?”
“What?”
“Orphan. Her adoptive father married your aunt, who was clearly not the motherly type. When they divorced, that was the end of her and Abby. The father married again, then died, leaving her with a stepfamily that couldn’t be bothered with her. So, no, you two are not related in any legal way. I can see that you two haven’t had this conversation.”
No. But they were about to.
*****
Abby was out on the tree lawn, hammering a large For Sale sign into the ground. They had already put one in the front yard, but it was difficult to see from the streets because of the front fence. Gillian wanted to hear the truth with no more delays.
“Why didn’t you tell me that you weren’t really Aunt Helen’s child? That you’re not really part of her family at all?”
Abby’s work came to a grinding halt. “Who told you? How did you find out?”
“The police. They’re looking into everything and everyone. Especially people who yelled at and threatened Byron. So, this is what they dug up. It’s true, isn’t it? Why would you lie about something like that?”
Abby couldn’t stand the hurt, distrustful look on Gillian’s face. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you my entire life. Or at least, meeting you again. Remember, I told you that we knew each other when we were babies. I have a picture in my room of us together when we were only about two. I was so upset that my stepmother kept saying that we would never meet because she and your mother were mad at each other. But I always had that dream. I always wanted to find my cousin. And then my parents got divorced. She was never really my parent. And then she definitely wasn’t. But that meant that her family wasn’t my family.”
“Yes. That’s what the police officer told me. And that your father died. And that you don’t see your second family.”
Abby’s eyes pleaded forgiveness. “If I couldn’t turn you into my family, then it meant that I had no family. I always thought that our getting back together was destiny.”
Gillian understood the whole no-family thing. Still, she didn’t like being deceived. Especially by the one person whom she had recently given her trust. One of two, actually, including Vaughn. Oh, and there was Delphine, who seem to have her best interest at heart. And Morty, who was as loyal as all get out.
And was she really going to skewer Abby for holding onto that secret? She, who was a witch! That was an awfully big secret to be holding from her cousin—whom she would never be able to think of as anything but her cousin.
“Finish up the sign, Cuz. It’s time for lunch,” Gillian ordered.
Abby breathed a deep sigh of relief.
*****
On a rare break from his hospital duties, Doctor Svenson went to take a long walk in the park. He often preferred it over the beach—too many tourists there. Today, his decision was rewarded by the sight of Gillian Swann teaching her cat card tricks. She held one card up and then mixed it with three other cards and laid all of them on the ground. The cat stuck his paw gently and tapped the card. Always the right card.
“That’s amazing. How on earth did you teach him to do that?”
“It’s Lilith Hazelwood’s cat,” Gillian explained.
“Say no more. I have my hands full with remarkable people. I don’t even know what to think about remarkable cats. But I’m glad to see you. I wanted to thank you. And the parents of that girl want to thank you so much, although I can’t really tell them who you are. I can’t tell them that a complete amateur with no medical background helped to save their little girl’s life.”
“I’m so happy to hear it.”
“I have a big favor to ask you. Maybe you can come by the hospital one day a week, look at a few people for me? Maybe you will see something that our tests have missed.”
“But I don’t have any medical training. No background. I’ll no idea what I’m looking at.”
“But you knew that you were seeing something that was wrong. Maybe you can help find something. Maybe not. But we’ll give it a try, okay?”
“Of course. Okay.”
“Can I try this trick with your kitty?”
A few hundred yards away, Gillian and the doctor were under observation by Officer Finn Cochran and his lovely girlfriend, Margo Bailey, a former transplant patient of the doctor’s. She was also currently the happy possessor of Lilith Hazelwood’s heart. She and Finn exchanged a knowing look.
“I think that woman must be another transplant patient. Maybe she’s another person who has a piece of Lilith Hazelwood inside her. I need to go and find out. It would be pretty cool to know someone else who was in my situation.”
“You’re not going anywhere near her. She’s a murder suspect, Margo. I don’t want you to have anything to do with her.”
“You don’t mean that guy who was found in his car. Oh, that was a horrible murder. Did he have it comin’?”
Finn shook his head. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. Yeah, he sort of did. He betrayed her, took away all her financial security, just pulled the rug out from under her. Some unforgivable stuff. Which means that she had all the motive in the world.”
“But she looks so sweet. She looks like a nice new witch. Like me.”
“Being a witch does not make her innocent. In fact, it gives her a whole arsenal of tricks to commit the perfect murder. I certainly get the impression that this woman—her name’s Gillian Swann—that she’s a good person. Smart. Tough. Who normally wouldn’t hurt a fly. But what he did could push her right over the edge. I don’t blame her. But if she’s guilty, I’ve got to put her away.”
*****
Officer Cochran watched incredulously as Gillian completed her first commissioned portrait for a woman, right out on the pier. The painting sparkled and glowed with swirling, moving fumes of smoke and energy. It was blatant magic out in plain sight. Pretty bold.
The customer was giddy at the results and heaped effusive praise on Gillian. She and her friend hauled her portrait away in the nearby truck.
“Well, if I didn’t know you were a witch before, I guess I just got my answer,” Finn remarked.
Gillian gasped. “How did you know?”
“I saw you with Doctor Svenson. That man keeps company with a whole lot of witches. I just came from his office. It was very informative. Why did you never tell me that you used to be blind?”
“I did. Well, you asked me how come I couldn’t figure out that Byron had been cheating on me for six months and I said, ‘I was blind.’” Gillian tried to restrain a smile.
“Very funny. Very funny. I’ll bet you have a whole bunch of tricks up your sleeve.”
“How do you know so much about witches?”
“Never you mind about that. I’m just awfully curious about your abilities.”
“I can see through things—walls, a car trun
k. I know it’s hard to believe.” She glanced down at him. “Fruit of the Loom, that hybrid style that’s half boxers, half briefs. Black and gray striped. Yeah, I can see things.”
“That’s so wrong,” Finn a marveled. “Can you shut that down?”
“I’m learning how to control it.”
“What does everyone think when they see paintings move like that? What are you telling them?”
“That it’s like a mood ring chemical in the paint. New unpatented technology. Beta tester, blah, blah, blah. I think people believe it because they have to believe something.”
Officer Cochran backed away, scoffing. “Just what this town needs. Another witch.”
Another witch? Just how many were there?
*****
The house had not been sold yet, but it probably wasn’t too soon to do a little tentative apartment hunting. Gillian and Abby should be able to make do with a modest-sized, two-bedroom place. Gillian’s old home was now starting to feel oppressively large. They would just need someplace that was large enough to have a few guests over for movies and dinner. A place where Abby could stretch out and relax in solitude if Gillian were ever to be out of town, say, in a sailboat, hopping around the Greek islands.
Was it the daydreaming? With her keen sight and ability to see anything coming a mile away, Gillian didn’t think the Hatch sisters could ever sneak up on her. And yet, here they were, surrounding her on the sidewalk, looking as if they were about to devour a long-anticipated meal.
Delphine had been keeping close watch on the town for the past two days. There was dark mischief in the air. She could feel it. And she didn’t want it to catch her unaware. She prepared as best she could and kept a watchful eye.
Then she felt the presence of the Hatch triplets. Together, they created an energy that was detectable at some distance. She hurried to intercept them, and just as she feared, they were guiding Gillian between them. They had compelled her to follow them. Delphine stormed into their path.
“Unhand that girl,” Delphine demanded. “I will not allow you to harm one hair on her head.”
“She does have good hair. But it’s more the eyes we were interested in,” teased Mallory.
