by Iris Kincaid
“I promise you, I don’t find that thought at all entertaining.”
It was a satisfying amount of deference. With a triumphant smirk, Fiona was on her way. But what had she been saying? Lilith Hazelwood lingers! Dead witches shouldn’t be lingering. The live ones were scary enough. Perhaps Delphine could shed some light.
*****
Although there were weighty matters to discuss, Wanda had to take a few moments to run around Delphine’s jewelry boutique with gasps of admiration.
“You may choose any piece you like,” Delphine offered. She was slowly starting to get a vivid picture of Wanda’s lonely and neglected childhood. It was quite possible she had never received a gift in her entire life.
“This is too much, Delphine. I should say that I couldn’t possibly accept, but I really want one! Thank you so much. Oh, oh. This has got to be the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
It was a charm bracelet, with each tiny figure made completely of brilliant gemstones—amethyst, emerald, yellow diamonds, and sapphire. Delphine gladly fastened it around Wanda’s wrist.
“I’m glad you admire its beauty. In time, it will act as a magnifying glass for your developing power. I will show you when you are ready.”
“You’ve been so wonderful to me, Delphine. There are so few people I can talk to about what’s happening to me.”
“I’m here anytime you need me, Wanda, dear.”
“There is something I was hoping that you could tell me about . . . Lilith Hazelwood.”
“You want to know what she was like?”
“I want to know what she is like,” Wanda said pointedly. “Apparently, she’s still hanging around. According to Fiona Skretting. And she has some kind of plans for me. Which I’m not sure I want to know about. Especially if she was anything like Fiona. But I need to hear it. All of it. Is she really . . . still here?”
“Finally,” Lilith rejoiced. “One of them is finally ready to take responsibility as my proxy on this earth. Tell her to cease her frivolous distractions immediately and devote herself to the mission of my vengeance.”
“Lilith, you are going to have to lighten up. Let’s ease her into this. I will tell her your expectations. She seems ready to hear it. But I will not encourage her to put herself into danger. Let us see what she is ready for.”
“Well, get on with it. And you would do well to convey a sense of urgency. I would hate for my enemy to die of natural causes before I’ve had the satisfaction of watching the life drain out of them.”
“Ever the poet. Now, I shall get started.”
“Lilith was killed by a bolt of lightning that came out of a clear blue sky. No rain. No thunder. It is difficult to overestimate the breadth of her powers and how unlikely it was for her to be the victim of an accident. She was targeted by a practitioner of the dark arts, though we still don’t know who.
“Yes, her spirit lingers. I am one of a handful of witches who is able to converse with the dead. It is not a talent you should envy.”
“It is your great privilege to commune with me, Delphine Sykes, and don’t you forget it.”
“It is, indeed. For when you were alive, your company and your favor were given out in very small parcels.”
“I had no need of you. And now I do. What is so difficult to understand about that?”
“You are a model of practicality, Lilith. Now, if you’ll pardon me.”
“She speaks to me. Quite often. She wants to know who killed her. And she wants justice for herself. She has lost the awesome powers that she held in life. But they have been reborn in all of you who have received her body. She hopes that you are grateful for the gifts that her organs have given you.”
“Oh, so grateful! I can’t even begin to tell her how grateful I am. My life was just so sad and cut off from everyone, and I was just an observer. I knew that things would never change for me. That I would never accomplish anything. That I would never do anything important. That I would never find love. Not real love, someone who would really appreciate what I had to say.”
“She will be very happy to hear that. The only way that she can get the closure that will allow her to rest in peace is going to require some earthly assistance. Your powers of investigation and tenacity have greatly impressed her, and she wonders if you might consider putting your abilities at her disposal, if an apropos occasion should arise.”
“Helping a dead woman get justice for her murder? As it so happens, I do have some recent experience along those lines. But . . . is this going to involve Fiona Skretting? Because I’m not ashamed to say that she kind of scares me.”
“We do have to be on guard against Fiona. She is uneasy with the new witches who have arisen from Lilith’s organs, particularly since she most assuredly believed that the day of Lilith’s death was her coronation as the most powerful witch in oyster Cove. That Lilith lingers is a galling reminder to Fiona that she was always second in power, by a mile.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad. Being the second-most powerful witch in town.”
“I saw a study once. Do you know who the unhappiest Olympic athletes are? Obviously, not the gold medalists. They are covered in a lifetime of glory. The next happiest are the bronze medalists, the third-place winners. They go home grinning ear to ear. They won a medal for the country, out of hundreds who tried. They are among the strongest of global athletes and are justifiably proud.
“But the unhappiest are the silver medalists, the ones who came in second. So close to a lifetime of bragging rights of supremacy. To be at the pinnacle of human strength and will and accomplishment. They will torture themselves about missing that first-place medal for years to come. Perhaps forever. That is Fiona Skretting. A very unhappy second-place finisher.
“Lilith’s death eased her insecurity somewhat. But then all of you started to appear, her heirs, her successors. It is foolish for Fiona to resent you. But that is what we have to contend with. Be assured. Your safety, all of you, is my greatest priority.”
“Don’t coddle.”
Delphine sighed. Why couldn’t she be haunted by . . . oh, say . . . Paul Newman?
*****
The closing arguments were short and sweet.
The prosecutor threw up his hands to the jury.
“I have only one word for you. That word is fingerprints. Fingerprints. They are the only piece of hard evidence that we have. They place Harley Osborne at the scene of the crime. He had motive. And he had opportunity. Give Heather Kelton justice. Give the family peace of mind. Don’t let a murderer walk our streets unpunished. Fingerprints. Thank you.”
Jeremy thought he might as well follow suit. “I also have one word for you. Doubt. Or if I may be allowed two words, reasonable doubt. Would Harley Osborne have chosen to kill Heather Kelton with the snake? Not that we can doubt that someone would chose to kill her with a snake, because that actually happened. But would Harley Osborne have done it?
“You saw his reaction when Fiona Skretting tossed her snake right in front of him. He was terrified. I don’t know that a man who was terrified of snakes would choose to kill someone with a snake. To handle a box with the snake in it. People with snake phobias don’t even want to be around closed boxes with snakes in them. I get the feeling that a lot of you can relate.
“Also, I think we’ve made it clear what difficult financial straits Harley Osborne was in. So, unable to pay his bills and having to sell his car for living expenses, how did he come up with the minimum price of one thousand dollars to buy that snake? I have a feeling the man who sold it is not the type to take a credit card.
“Too many questions. Too many unlikely scenarios. And too much doubt. You have all sat through a parade of witnesses who disliked Heather Kelton, who were hurt by Heather Kelton, and who wanted Heather Kelton dead. Now, I would be the last person in the world to tell you that we, as a society, should not pursue the killer of Heather Kelton just because she was a mean person, just because she was unlovable.”
Je
remy shrugged. “Some people think that lawyers are unlovable.” Several members of the jury smiled. Jeremy caught Wanda’s eye. “But that is demonstrably untrue.”
Was he flirting with her in the middle of his closing argument? Yeah, he really was.
“I don’t know who killed Heather Kelton. But I think that you’re going to have to admit that you don’t either. Doubt. We can’t rush to put a man behind bars because we want closure. We have to own up to our doubt, however unsatisfying it feels. And to continue searching for the truth. Thank you.”
*****
The day of deliberation was finally at hand. Wanda had gone over and over this day in her mind. How organized she would be, how persuasive she would be, how she could rope in stray jurors like they were lost cattle. How she could gently guide them to the truth, or at least get everyone to understand and agree with her opinion.
All of a sudden, she didn’t feel inclined to do any of that. These were people with their own independent thoughts and interpretations. Some of them were shy, insecure, and retiring, just like she had been until so recently. That didn’t mean that they didn’t have something important to say to the others, and what her job really should be was to make sure that everyone was heard.
There were three jury members who had such a quiet, shy manner about them, Wanda had anticipated that it would be difficult to get anything out of them. Yet their opinions were just as informed, and their votes held the same weight as their more opinionated cohorts. Wanda was determined to hear from them.
“We’re going to start with Lacey and work our way clockwise around the table. Everyone’s going to have five minutes, give or take. I’ve written the beginnings of three sentences on the chalkboard and I want you to finish each one. There are no wrong answers. We need to hear what is true for you, and hopefully, that is how we’ll arrive at the real truth.”
Lacey started tentatively, “I’m leaning toward a . . .? Not guilty. The most compelling evidence that makes me lean this way is . . .? His fear of snakes. I can’t stand them myself. And when I put myself in his shoes, even if he was angry enough to kill her, that absolutely would never have occurred to him. On the other hand, that Fiona Skretting . . . I can’t help but think that she might have had a hand in this somehow. Oh, and the third thing? If there’s one tiny thing that makes me doubt my decision, it would be . . .? Oh, I guess I’m a little troubled by the fingerprints.”
“Thank you, Lacey. Ted, you’re up next,” Wanda directed.
“I’m leaning toward a . . .? Guilty. The most telling evidence that make me lean this way is . . .? The guy just acts so darn guilty. His own lawyer looks really frustrated with him. And he lied about never having been to their house. I just have a bad feeling about him. Okay, and if there’s one thing that makes me doubt my decision, it would be . . .? Drew Bishop’s testimony. He came right out and said that he intended to kill her. I think he was angry enough to do it. Maybe he realized that the gun could be traced to him and had to think of another way.”
Rhonda weighed in. “I’m leaning toward a . . .? Not guilty. The most compelling evidence that makes me lean this way is . . .? This is a highly premeditated crime, right? He had to secretly buy the snake, leave the note, flee the scene, and he also had to know that Heather Kelton was at home. It was just all so well-planned. So, someone who is capable of all that is going to commit the crime without putting on a pair of gloves? That doesn’t make any sense to me. If there’s one thing that makes me doubt my decision, it would be . . .? He was about to wind up homeless, with no way to pay for his nephew’s medical care. If someone had done that to me, I think I might be ready to kill them.”
The feisty, fidgety young Stuart Potter was next. “I’m leaning toward . . .? Not guilty. The most compelling evidence that makes me lean this way is . . .? The fact that Heather Kelton kinda deserved what was coming to her. We saw that in one testimony after another. You can’t make enemies right and left, stomp all over people, and never face any consequences. Dozens of people hated her, with good reason. I don’t see why only one of them should take the fall. And, if there’s one thing that makes me doubt my decision, it’s . . .? Oh, heck, I guess I’d have to go with the fingerprints. But I still think aggravated murder and premeditated murder are two different things. So, since it’s premeditated murder we’re deciding on, I say not guilty.”
And so, the other jurors followed suit. Afterward, the deliberation took on a long, loud back and forth, now that everyone had been loosened up by their early declarations. Wanda had once envisioned this process as her guiding everyone down an orderly path to consensus. But it was a much messier process, and somehow, she knew that was appropriate. This was not the time and place for her to exert any abnormal influence. This was a moment that belonged to the people sitting around the table as much as it belonged to her.
Six hours later, Wanda sent word to the judge that the deliberation was complete. The announcement of the verdict was scheduled for the following day.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Wanda hoped that a late-night drive would help organize her jumbled thoughts. The jury had arrived at precisely the conclusion that she had wanted. And still, she wasn’t sure if she had done everything in her power to get to the right outcome.
She couldn’t help herself. Something compelled her to go past the Kelton house just one more time. Even though the crime scene couldn’t possibly have any tales left to tell. She parked a few houses away, just thinking to take a quick discreet look again at the property. But what she saw made her heart flutter—a shadowy figure in the backyard, whose build was quite different from that of Mayor James Kelton.
The crime scene barriers had all been taken down. So, the mayor had obviously moved back into his home. In fact, he appeared to be driving up his driveway just as Wanda saw the dark figure duck out of sight. She had to run behind the vehicle, her heart beating.
The dark figure was blocking Mayor Kelton’s entry into his enclosed garage. He was also pointing a gun at the mayor, demanding that he get out of his car. The mayor came out shaking, his hands in the air.
“You want money? You want the car? Just take it,” the frightened mayor said.
Wanda drew closer—close enough to see that the man with the gun was Stuart Potter, her young cohort on the jury.
“Stuart, what on earth do you think you’re doing?” Wanda said with a lot more strength than she felt.
“The justice system is a bunch of hooey,” Stuart said. “This man needs to be punished for what he did to my grandpa.”
“Okay,” Wanda said trying to sound calm. “What did he do your grandpa?”
“He refused to spend money, our money, the public’s money, on paying for an extra lifeguard, and my grandfather died because of it. Even afterward, when he had a chance to say that he did wrong and that he was gonna fix it by putting in a lifeguard and making sure no one else ever suffered what my family did, he just took the money and gave himself a raise.
“It was a long time ago, but it still matters to us. Yeah, it was me who slashed your tires and broke your window. But those things are easy to replace, aren’t they? I wanted you to know exactly what it feels like to lose someone that you love. That’s what I prayed would happen to you. That’s the pain you deserved.
“But now I can see that it’s not enough. It’s your own life that you should lose as well.”
Wanda’s panic been rising so quickly that she had completely lost sight of who she was. Who she now was.
“Stuart, empty the bullets out of that gun right now. Give them to me. Now, go get into your car, and go home. Don’t ever come to this house or threaten the Mayor, ever again. Come to the court tomorrow for the reading of the verdict. Go now.”
The mayor watched with enormous relief as Stuart obeyed Wanda’s commands.
“This is unbelievable. I am never going to feel safe in this house again. First, my wife is killed here, and then someone almost shoots me. I always thought these automatic garag
e doors at the back entry would mean that no carjacker or burglar could ever sneak up on me. There’s no security here. But, I certainly do appreciate what you just did. You saved my life.”
Wanda shook her head. “I think it will be a horrible shame if we come to find out that your wife’s death could have been prevented by your hiring a lifeguard to help protect your community.”
“It’s not that simple. The mayor of Oyster Cove has three major responsibilities. To keep the tourists happy. To keep the artists happy. And to keep the city budget balanced. Some other things fall by the wayside. It can’t be avoided.”
Wanda didn’t look sympathetic. “You should put your car away and get inside. I have to get some sleep. See you at court,” Wanda said, backing away.
She had a feeling that she was headed for a long, sleepless night. What was she going to do about Stuart? For most of Oyster Cove, the drowning of his grandpa was just a sad news story, quickly forgotten. He had been holding onto his anger for years. Who could blame him?
*****
In bed that night, Wanda was kept awake by thoughts of a quickly scrawled note—Killer snake inside. Enter at your own risk. If Stuart hated the mayor, why leave him that warning note?
If Stuart hated the mayor, why leave him that warning note?
If Stuart hated the mayor, why leave that warning note?
The mystery lulled her to sleep.
*****
The court room was packed. It felt as if half the adult population of oyster Cove had crammed inside to hear the verdict in the Heather Kelton murder case.
Wanda only hoped that her lovely voice would soften the disappointing news that they were all about to receive. “I’m very sorry to inform you, Your Honor, that the jury cannot come to a consensus. We are split with six votes on either side.”
The spectators erupted with loud response. This truly was not what they came to hear. So indecisive. But it probably couldn’t have been helped. The jury foreman was so trustworthy, such a strong leader—as anyone could tell just by listening to her. If they couldn’t come to a conclusion, there was probably a very good reason for it.
