Sweet Magic

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Sweet Magic Page 21

by Connie Shelton


  Marcus’s eyes widened in disbelief. This was not the Maury of their childhood. Where was the fun-loving kid who readily switched places in school to fool the nuns?

  “Good luck to you, my son. I shall keep you in my prayers.” The call disconnected.

  My son? What kind of pompous ass had Maury turned into? Marcus flung his phone away but it only bounced off the inside of the windshield, hit the passenger front seat, and fell into the darkness below. He reached for it and saw bright specks in front of his eyes as fresh pain ripped through his gut.

  Chapter 55

  Sam dozed on the makeshift bed until movement caught her attention. She snapped to and sat up. Beau had been awake and speaking, in her dream. But when she started for the bed, she saw that his eyes were closed and the machine was breathing for him. A new nurse stood beside the monitor, checking something.

  “Sorry—didn’t mean to wake you,” she whispered. “Everything’s okay.” She smiled and left the room.

  Nothing is okay. Nothing will be okay until he smiles at me and I can tell him how much I love him.

  She reached into her pack and picked up the box Kelly had left with her. Manichee, help me to help Beau. Please … But the box remained dark, her hands cold. She cradled the box in her arms and leaned sideways to lie down, but sleep eluded her.

  The room felt chilly. She got up and pulled an additional blanket over Beau, then found one for herself and wrapped it around her shoulders. The nights were so long here. But the days were no better.

  Remembering something, she pulled the leather-bound book from her pack. Would the words make sense now or were they only readable when Kelly was present? She curled her legs up onto the bed and cuddled pillows around herself for the slight bit of comfort they provided. She opened the book to the first page. At first the letters appeared to be runes. Then, gradually, the words appeared to her in English and she began to read.

  She skimmed the sections Kelly had already told her about, the revelation that the three boxes together would likely turn toward the side of evil because of the influence of Facinor. There was a chapter detailing the good things the box Virtu was capable of—Sam smiled because she had experienced many of them, along with a few things the book didn’t talk about. Together, Virtu and Manichee provided even stronger positive forces, said one chapter.

  She began to notice small details about the book itself. The pages were not all of the same paper. In fact, some sections appeared to be much older than others, although they were all connected together into the same binding, all within the sturdy leather cover. The hand-lettered wording was different throughout the book, as well, not only in calligraphic style, but in word usage. It seemed the book had multiple authors.

  Most likely it was a collection of knowledge from several sources, which someone had gathered together and bound as a book—that was the most likely explanation. Sam had been flipping through the pages randomly, admiring the thick paper and handmade quality of the book, when a heading jumped out at her.

  Destroy Facinor

  Maria Obrenivici gives the spell which will destroy the box Facinor.

  Sam blinked. Could the writer be the witch Bobul had spoken of? It seemed way beyond coincidence that a Romanian name would be linked with the name of the bad one of the three boxes. In the dim light of the hospital room she read on. Fire cannot destroy it, she’d written. Bobul had told Sam as much, soon after she’d met him. The box cannot be crushed. It cannot be thrown from a cliff or drowned in the sea. Whether or not any of it was true, it seemed this Maria woman believed she had discovered a way to rid the world of what she, at least, considered one of the worst of the true evils. And the method she described in detail had not existed until fairly recent history.

  Sam turned the book over and looked inside both front and back covers, wondering exactly when this volume had been written.

  Chapter 56

  Sam’s cell phone rang before she was fully awake. She was tempted to ignore it but it could be Evan or Rico with news. She threw her blanket aside and picked it up. The number on the ID was Stan Bookman’s. She wondered if the man ever slept, but odds were he was in some other country where it was already midday.

  “Sam—great news. I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time,” he said.

  A cynical laugh caught in her throat. There hadn’t been a good time for days now. “Stan, I—No, it isn’t a good time. I’m at the hospital with my husband.”

  “Oh, gosh. I hope nothing serious.” Before she could explain, he went on. “I wanted to let you know Cruceros Privados is thrilled with the latest samples they received, and they’re ready to roll. They need to know how soon they might add your chocolates to their High Tea menu.”

  “Stan, I don’t know. Beau’s in critical condition and I can’t think beyond that right now.”

  “Oh. Sam, I didn’t know. I’m so sorry. If there’s anything I can do, a service I can provide …”

  “I appreciate that, Stan. I can’t think right now, and I’m sorry I don’t have an answer for the cruise people. Can they delay this decision for a little longer?”

  “We’ll work out something. You take care.”

  She could hear the disappointment in his voice. He was a man who liked to solve a business problem and move on. She slipped her shoes on and checked on Beau, then fluffed her hair, took advantage of the sink in the room to brush her teeth, and wandered toward the nurses’ station.

  “Coffee, Sam?” asked the head nurse, getting a nod in return. “You can go on in our break room. You’re practically family.”

  The woman gave a warm smile and indicated an unmarked door to her left. Sam walked in to the scent of fresh coffee—a better brand than that sold in the cafeteria, she could tell. The young nurse who always came for the lab draws was pouring herself a cup and offered to do the same for Sam. An orderly sat on a long couch, working his phone with both thumbs while he kept an eye on a wall-mounted TV tuned to a news channel.

  Sam glanced up at it. She hadn’t seen any news for a week now. The story was apparently about the pope delivering a message to a crowd of people in Vatican City. The camera zoomed in close and caught the man’s kindly face as he repeated whatever he’d just said, this time in Italian. But what caught Sam’s attention was the man standing on the balcony directly behind the church’s leader.

  It was Marcus Fitch.

  He wore the red robes of a cardinal and stood with his hands folded at his waist, his eyes directed toward the man speaking. Sam pulled her phone from her pocket and quickly located Rick Gonzales’s number.

  “Fitch is in Italy,” she blurted out. “He’s on television right now.”

  The nurse and orderly stared at her, and the nurse set the full Styrofoam cup down.

  “Which channel? Okay, I’ve got it. Wow. How could he—?” There were voices in the background. “Okay. Sam? We’re checking it out. I’ll let you know what happens.”

  Sam paced the length of the break room, then picked up her coffee and went back to Beau’s room. Still no change, she noted as she automatically looked at the monitors.

  “Honey, we’re close to catching Marcus Fitch,” she said to him. Nothing changed on his face.

  She drank too quickly from the coffee cup and flinched at the burn. How had Marcus escaped the country with so many lawmen looking for him? He was surely on so many wanted lists that he couldn’t have boarded a plane. Plus, she remembered Gonzales telling her their suspect was wounded. She was about to call Evan—surely the Taos County Sheriff’s Office would get news quickly, and she knew she would be higher on Evan’s priority list than that of the FBI—then Doctor Albertson walked in.

  “Well, our patient is responding remarkably well,” he said. “I’ve never seen this extensive a wound heal so quickly.”

  Sam knew the reason for that. “But you said you withdrew whatever medication was keeping him asleep. Why doesn’t he wake up?”

  Albertson shrugged and gave a rueful smile. “In ma
ny ways, coma patients are still a mystery to us. Sometimes we know the reasons, sometimes we don’t. I had one patient who remained in a coma for more than a month, then one day woke up seeming rested and refreshed.”

  “So, what happens next?”

  “We’ll remove the breathing tube this morning. There’s no need for it now, and some of the other monitoring devices can go. He’s ready to move to a regular room, in my opinion.”

  Sam felt a moment of panic. “Doctor, don’t forget this is a lawman who was shot on duty. The man responsible is still at large.” Although having seen Fitch on TV this morning was somewhat reassuring, the fact remained that the man would not rest until he’d taken the prize he wanted.

  “I’ll speak to APD and see if a guard can be posted at his door.”

  See if? Sam vowed she would go further than that. The moment the doctor left the room, she dialed Rick Gonzales.

  “Sam, I was about to call you. Sorry to report, the man on TV isn’t Marcus Fitch.”

  “So he could still be in New Mexico.”

  “It’s possible. I’ve got a call coming in—I’ll get back to you as soon as I know anything else.”

  Okay … she didn’t get the chance to tell Gonzales about needing a guard for Beau, but maybe his own department could get the message through to the right people. If nothing else, she’d bet that Evan or Rico would drive down here and sit outside the room himself. She dialed the sheriff’s office and asked for Evan.

  “Sam! Great timing. I just got a call from Colfax County. They have Marcus Fitch in custody. Rico and I are driving over to Raton to arrest him.”

  Sam tempered her relief with caution. What if this was another false sighting?

  Chapter 57

  A hundred questions raced through Sam’s mind. She stood by as the nurses came into the room and removed Beau’s breathing apparatus and made little adjustments to all the various tubes connected to him.

  Was Fitch really under arrest? Could it be true?

  “All right, Sheriff Cardwell,” said the head nurse, addressing Beau and patting his hand. “You’re getting a change of scenery.”

  The woman’s voice was so perky and cheerful Sam hoped Beau really could hear what was going on around him.

  “You can take the time to gather your things, Sam, and then come along whenever you’re ready. We’re going down one floor in the elevator, and he’ll be in room 306.”

  Sam didn’t need any prep time. All she’d brought was her backpack purse, which contained the box and the book, along with bare necessities for the overnight stays. At Kelly’s insistence, she’d been back to the hotel once each day for a shower and fresh clothes, while Kelly had come to the hospital to treat the wounds. And it had worked! Despite the fact that Beau hadn’t yet opened his eyes or spoken to her, she felt the first hint of optimism. She followed his wheeled bed as the staff rolled him along the hallways.

  Evan called a couple of hours later, just about the time Sam was already bored with the new room. No guard had been posted near the door, but she supposed the danger might be past. At least that’s what she hoped Evan would say.

  “Sam, it’s definitely Fitch and we’ve placed him under arrest. It was a lucky turn for us.”

  She tapped the speaker button on her phone and set it where she hoped Beau would hear.

  “Tell us everything,” she begged. “Where was he caught. He didn’t injure anyone else, did he?”

  “It’s a little complicated, but no one else was hurt. He’s in the hospital in Raton. Some hikers found him in the forest outside Ute Park, passed out on his face, with a pretty ugly wound in his side.”

  The rest of the story had been pieced together. The hikers had put Fitch in their SUV and driven him to the hospital, figuring it would take too long to call 911 and get a response that far out. Draped around one shoulder was a backpack so they’d brought that along, too, and it contained Fitch’s ID and passport. Once the doctors in the ER determined the injury was a bullet wound, someone remembered law enforcement was looking for this guy and a quick-thinking orderly strapped his arms to the metal bed rails.

  “Good thing,” Evan said. “He started to come around and was madder than a hornet. He would have tried to make a dash for it. But doc says he wouldn’t have gotten far. He’s got a nasty infection in the wound, so he’ll be confined for a while. He’s under arrest, so a Colfax County deputy is stationed there to keep watch. We’ll be bringing him back to Taos once he can travel, but I think the FBI has an interest here, too.”

  As if by telepathy, Sam’s phone rang with a second call and she saw it was Rick Gonzales. She let it go to voicemail. She was getting more information from Evan.

  “How did Fitch get so far from Taos? He must have had a car.”

  “Right. And we think we have that, as well. A sharp park ranger spotted a sedan in one of the little day-camping areas. Said it had been there more than three days, so he took a look. It had the wrong type of license plate, one that began with RV, meaning it could only be registered to a recreational vehicle. We’re guessing Fitch knew we had the BOLO out for the car with Colorado rental tags, and he must have thought it smart to switch it for a New Mexico one. He just didn’t know how easily that one would have stood out if he’d been pulled over.”

  “Was there a box among his things?” Sam asked, half dreading the answer.

  “Yeah, come to think of it. We did log in something like that. Why?”

  “I can’t tell you much at this point, but just be sure you lock that box away someplace safe. Keep it in the evidence locker and don’t turn it over to any other agency, okay?”

  “It has something to do with one of these shootings?”

  What could she say? “Indirectly.” A new idea was forming in her mind. “I’ll talk to you about it when I’m back in Taos.”

  Sam watched Beau’s face for signs that he could hear Evan’s voice. There was no reaction, and her mood dipped a little. She thanked Evan for the call and told him to thank the hospital staff who’d recognized Fitch and detained him. Then she turned to Beau.

  “Honey, it’s coming together. They caught the guy. Everything’s going to be okay.” At least she hoped it would. He still hadn’t responded. She squeezed his hand then dialed Rick Gonzales.

  “Hi Sam, I wanted to thank you for the tip about the Marcus Fitch you thought you spotted in Italy. Turns out the guy at the Vatican is Fitch’s first cousin. With an inter-departmental link, we were able to interview him by video chat. Name’s Maurilio Fitch. It’s uncanny how much alike they seem, although this Maurilio spilled everything once he found out how serious the charges were. He claims all he did was switch places with Marcus for a flight from DC to Rome, then the two of them met up in Ireland for a couple days.”

  “So that blows Marcus’s alibi for the day of the shooting, when we thought there was no way he could have been in New Mexico,” Sam said. “He was the one who killed Tony Robards.” She didn’t voice the idea that either Isobel St. Clair or Sam herself had really been Fitch’s intended victim.

  “When I asked the reason behind the trips and why they met in Ireland, Maurilio really didn’t want to answer. But when we pushed, he admitted he’d taken a really old artifact from some deep, dark place in the Vatican archives, at Marcus’s insistence, of course. The trip to Shannon was to deliver this box.”

  The box Evan had now confiscated.

  Gonzales was still talking. “Based on his cousin’s testimony we got a warrant to search Fitch’s Georgetown condo and I’m happy to say that our agents found a Tikka T3 assault rifle under the floorboards of the bedroom closet. Ballistics tests are being run on it now.”

  When the call ended Sam felt as if her insides were buzzing.

  Chapter 58

  With mixed feelings, Sam agreed to leave the hospital and spend a night at the hotel with Kelly. Scott had needed to return to his university job in Taos, and Kelly insisted Sam could use a better night’s sleep than she could possibly get
with the makeshift arrangement in the hospital.

  They ordered room service and sat on the beds in their pajamas.

  “This reminds me of middle school,” Kelly said. “You and me, pizza and sleeping bags on the living room floor. I’d put on some tunes and get you to dance with me.”

  Sam smiled. “Those were fun times. I wonder, at what point in my life did I stop being a fun person?”

  “Deep down inside, you still are. It’s just been an intense month.”

  “I think I started getting intense about everything much further back than that.”

  She thought of the added responsibilities of the past couple of years. Going back, she’d begun to take life much more seriously about the time she was given the carved box, when she met Beau. Well, there comes a time when we all need to grow up.

  Grow up, but don’t become a drudge.

  Sam flipped through the book of magic, reading only a phrase here and there, wondering if something would inspire her. And then it did.

  “Kel, I’ve been thinking of something. I want to take Beau home.”

  “Mom … he’s not conscious. What would you do? How would you care for him? How would you even get him there?”

  “That last question is the easiest. Stan Bookman called me yesterday and offered to help. He’s asked a lot of me in recent months—I think it’s fine to ask something of him. We could arrange a plane to fly Beau to Taos.”

  “But then … what’s next?”

  “We’ve been using your box, Manichee, because I didn’t have the other one here. You were able to heal his body—the doctor was frankly amazed at how rapidly the wounds have healed. With the power of Virtu, I believe I can heal his spirit. The book talks about that—healing the body as separate from healing the spirit. Do you think that’s possible?”

 

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