Damn. How had I not realised this before? Well, at least my miserableness wouldn’t be pretend. I’d be able to pull that off with ease. Just great. On the way back, I continued past Angelica’s and up to High Street to Costa. I grabbed my double-choc muffin and cappuccino and walked home—I didn’t want to spill the coffee, of course. It was in a takeaway cup, but coffee might still spurt out of the little hole at the top, and every drop was precious. I didn’t want to waste any of it. It was all I had now, after all. No more Will, just coffee. Lots and lots and lots of coffee. Woe is me. I almost smiled because of my pity party, but then I remembered I shouldn’t be smiling where anyone could see me, especially not this soon after my break up.
When I got home, I showered, then dressed in comfy tracky dacks—which was Aussie speak for tracksuit pants—and a soft long-sleeve T-shirt. I magicked the fire on, grabbed my breakfast and iPad and settled in for part two of my plan—relax for a couple of hours with a fun cosy mystery.
But then my phone rang, blowing my plan to hell. With the love-hate thing the universe and I had going on, how had I expected anything different?
Chapter 11
I picked my phone up and looked at the screen. It was a local number I didn’t recognise. I wasn’t prone to answering the phone unless I knew who was calling, but considering everything going on at the moment with the snake group, it might be important. “Hello?”
A tentative male voice said, “Lily?”
I scrunched my face. It was a familiar voice, but the owner of it didn’t come to mind straight away. “Yes? Who’s this?”
“It’s Jeremy… you know, the famous guy who’s been falsely accused of murder. I’m sorry to bother you, but I need your help. Please don’t say no.”
Um, wow. Did not see that coming. I wasn’t sure why or how, but I might as well ask. “What did you need?” Maybe he just wanted a visitor to while away the torturous time in jail. Goodness knew I’d been there, and it was not fun. “I could get you some air freshener.”
“What?”
“Um, never mind.” Being a man, maybe he was used to stinky toilets, but having them in your bedroom-cum-living-area was not my idea of pleasant. Having been incarcerated a few months ago had scarred me for life. “So, what can I help with?”
“My solicitor sent me a letter. She’s reneged on taking the case, and when I tried to get in touch with her, her receptionist said she’s left town, but she wouldn’t say why. I don’t know what to do. And when my mother found out, she hired another lawyer without consulting me, and he’s hopeless. If he takes my case, I’m going to jail for sure.”
Had his solicitor figured he was guilty and dumped him? An ethical solicitor, hmm. Yeah, nah. It still didn’t make sense to take a case and within a couple of days drop it. But then again, people were weird. Maybe she’d had a family emergency? “But what can I do? I’m not a solicitor.”
“Word around here is that you’re good at gathering evidence, that if it wasn’t for you, a lot of crimes would have gone unsolved lately. There are a couple of crims in here who really hate you, Lily. But I’ve met a couple of nice guards, and they say the same thing: you’re a bit of a legend around here.”
Huh? Me, a legend. No way. I massaged my temples. Maybe that’s why stupid Dana hated me. Maybe she didn’t care one fig that Will might have liked me. She was always bragging about how she was better than me, after all. Anyway, that was irrelevant right now. I wasn’t sure about how I felt knowing I had any kind of reputation in that place, although I was sure I wasn’t happy about crims having it in for me, but then, what did I expect?
“Lily? Are you still on the line?”
“Ah, yeah. Sorry, just thinking.”
“You’re my only hope. I know you don’t owe me anything, and we hardly know each other, but I have a feeling that out of anyone I should call, it’s you. I didn’t do it. I could never kill anyone. If there’s any doubt in your mind that I did it, help me, because that means the real murderer’s out there right now, and who knows who’ll be next. Please?” That please sounded like he was about to cry—a desperate man begging. I had to admit, if he was guilty and knew I was good at solving crimes, it was crazy for him to call me. If I was as good as he claimed I was, surely I’d be the last nail in his sentencing coffin? “I’ll pay you what I was paying my lawyer.”
I shook my head. “It’s not about the money. I’m just not sure what you think I can do.”
“Evidence, Lily. I need irrefutable evidence showing I didn’t do it. Maybe you could even figure out who really did. The clown my mother got for me has no idea. Even he thinks I did it.”
“Oh my God! Did he actually say that?”
“No, but I can tell. He looks at me like he thinks I did it, especially when he thinks I’m not watching, and when he smiles at me, it’s fake as all get out. He’d make a terrible actor.”
“Why can’t you just fire him and get someone else?”
“There aren’t too many witch lawyers around, Lily. We’re dealing with the PIB. I tried a couple in London, but they didn’t get back to me. I don’t know why, but it feels like I’ve been black banned. Maybe everyone thinks I’m guilty?”
But I don’t, not really. Oh. There was my answer. My gut feeling. I supposed that was the doubt he was talking about, and if I had even a smidgeon of it, I needed to find out who did it—for everyone’s sakes. “Okay. I’ll help. And I don’t want your money.”
He let out a large whoosh of air. “Thank you, Lily. Thank you, thank you, thank you! You don’t know how much this means. And I’m still going to pay you.”
“Look, we can argue about it later. The only thing I will say is that I may not be able to share all my… proof with you. If I do find anything, I’ll need to figure out what hard evidence we can actually gather. What I do is more like getting hints of the truth, but then I have to dig the rest of the way for it.”
“Ah… okay. But you can still figure it out, though, can’t you?”
“I’ll give it a damn good try, Jeremy. I do have a few questions to ask you. Maybe I should come see you?”
“That would be great. You have no idea how relieved I am. If you want to make an appointment to meet with me, they’ll arrange a specially warded meeting room. You just need to call and speak to the Manager of Interviews PIB Incarceration Division. Have you got a pen and paper, and I’ll give you the number?”
“I’ll just put it in my phone. Hang on.” I put my phone on speaker and brought up Notes. “Okay, shoot.” He gave me the number, we said our goodbyes, and I sat there, kind of stunned, really. What the hell just happened? Would Angelica be upset that I was getting involved? She hadn’t seemed too pleased with James and I discussing it last night. Oh, and anything I found out, I wouldn’t be able to give to the PIB. What if I found he was guilty, and he wouldn’t let me share it with anyone else? Did client-lawyer privilege still exist if I wasn’t a lawyer? Crap. What was I getting myself into?
Okay, breathe, Lily, breathe. They already had evidence against him, supposedly, and if he wasn’t so desperate, he wouldn’t have called me, so it was unlikely he’d get off unless I could discover new evidence. Right. So chances were that I wouldn’t be in a predicament of having to find a way to get incriminating evidence to Angelica or James, and if it came to that, I’d figure how to make it happen. That sounded awful, but there was no way I’d let a guilty person get off if I could help it.
I magicked a pen and paper to myself and wrote down a list of questions to ask Jeremy. When I was done, I called the PIB and made an appointment to see him. They were fitting me in tomorrow morning at nine. Okay, so now all I had to worry about was tonight when I went with Beren to Dana’s old house. My life truly was hellish when looking for clues to my parents’ disappearance was only one of the crappy things going on. Although maybe I should look at Jeremy’s case as a good distraction from my “break-up” with Will. Even though it was fake, it was real in a way—we couldn’t see each other, no matter
how much we wanted to.
Let the torture begin.
Dressed all in black, I sat in front of the fire in one armchair while Olivia sat in the other. She was keeping me company until Beren showed up. I nervously caressed the Nikon with my thumb.
“I can’t believe you’re going to be helping Jeremy. I mean, you’re going to be hanging out with one of the most famous actors of our time.”
“I wouldn’t go that far, and it’s not as if he’s in everyone’s good books at the moment. What if I get a bad name for helping him?” I didn’t really think that would happen, but you never knew.
“You’ll at least be a little bit famous when it’s all said and done.”
“I hope not. I’m going to keep this as low-key as possible.”
Voices filtered in from the hallway; then Angelica and Beren walked in. “Hi, ladies.” We both turned and smiled at Beren—Olivia’s grin was way wider than mine, and I couldn’t help the warm ball of satisfaction that rolled through my stomach. They weren’t openly dating yet, but I was sure it wouldn’t be long till they finally made it official. “Are you ready, Lily?” His smile faded—he knew what I went through when faced with seeing my parents.
I sighed. “Yes. As ready as I can be.” I held up my camera. “Let’s do this.” I stood and went over to him.
Beren looked down at me. “If anything happens, just come straight back here. Okay?”
I nodded and shuffled from foot to foot, nervous energy thrumming through me. “Let’s get this over with.” I grabbed his hand.
“Good luck,” said Angelica as we stepped through Beren’s doorway.
We came out of the doorway, feet crunching on a bed of autumn leaves. The frigid air snapped at my skin, and I snuggled deeper into my coat. Beren looked around, likely getting his bearings. He whispered, “See those lights?” He pointed to two small elevated windows shining across the road about one hundred metres away. “That’s where it is. When we get to the property line, use your talent to see where the house was originally. The less wandering around we do, the better.”
“Ya think?”
“Snappy much?”
“You would be if you’d had the day I’ve had.”
He put his hand on my back and rubbed up and down a few times. “I know. Sorry, Lily. Will told me what happened. Are you okay?” I wasn’t sure if he just meant because we couldn’t see each other or if he was keeping up the act in case we were being spied on, but if the snake group were spying on us right now, they’d surely figure out we were up to something to do with them, and that would start a whole new world of pain for all of us.
“I’ll live.” I created a bubble of silence. “You don’t think they’re listening, do you?”
“No. It would be impossible for them to track us while we travelled. But you can never be too careful. Okay, ditch that bubble, and let’s get this done.”
I did as he asked, and we crossed the quiet country lane. A fox howled in the distance. An owl hooted. I put the lens cap in my pocket and flicked my camera on as we jogged up the slight incline. The house was on a small rise behind a five-foot tall fence. The gate was open—lucky us, although I was sure a small amount of magic would’ve been enough to open it. The only risk would be if the homeowners were witches—we had no way of knowing. Witches didn’t have to register with any witchy authorities at birth. Did the PIB actually know how many witches existed? Maybe they should have made it a thing to do, but how in the hell would you police something like that?
We stopped just before going through the gate. Beren was likely listening and watching for any dogs too. But if they’d had one roaming around, the gate probably would have been closed. Phew for us. I raised my camera and asked the universe to show me where the house had stood.
Night became day, and I shivered, feeling exposed in the sudden sunlight before reminding myself that it was still night-time in the real world. About ten metres to the right of the existing house was where Dana’s house had stood—a two-storey timber barn conversion. A gorgeous home, it looked to be full of character yet newly renovated. Had it been a project for her parents? If so, they had good taste. The slats were silvery grey. Large picture windows were evenly spaced, and it was capped off by a dark slate roof.
I lowered my camera and was swathed in darkness once again. Beren gave me a questioning look. “Over there,” I whispered and pointed. With several glances towards the existing house to make sure we weren’t discovered, we made our way to where the old house once stood. My photos wouldn’t show up anything inside unless I was in there too. I hadn’t worked out how to take photos through walls, even if they were walls that were no longer there. I grimaced. That didn’t really make sense, but nothing about my life had since my twenty-fourth birthday, and I didn’t know that it ever would again.
I looked through the viewfinder to orientate myself. I was standing about five metres in front of the building. May as well start here to make sure I didn’t miss anything. “Show me the last time my parents were here.” I held my breath. If my parents had only ever travelled there, this would show me nothing.
We were back to night-time, and I released my breath at what appeared through the lens. My parents’ backs were to me as they stood at the front door, about to enter. Dana’s mother held the door open. Welcoming, yellow-tinged light shone from behind her and spilled outside, casting shadows of my parents on the ground behind them. If I reached out a foot, I could almost touch their inky likenesses.
Dana’s mother wore a huge smile, obviously happy to see my parents. Was this the night of the fire or a random get-together? Whatever it was, I had to assume it was important, or my magic probably wouldn’t show anything. Or maybe it was just the only time they’d ever driven there rather than travelled.
I lowered my camera and showed Beren the pictures so he could see where we were. His eyes widened, and he shook his head. He blew out a breath. “No matter how many times I see these photos, I never get used to them.” He looked up at the darkness in front of us, where there was nothing but stunted grass. “It’s creeping me out tonight, to be honest.” He rubbed one forearm as if banishing goosebumps.
“Tell me about it.” I shivered. “And it’s only going to get worse. I’m going to be asking some hard questions, B.” If the universe showed me this house burning with people inside….
I took a deep breath and walked into what would have been the front vestibule. Looking through the lens again, I took in the vaulted ceiling and magnificent chandelier that lit the entry. Something was off, though. It was like I was viewing things from my knees. I panned around at the side table that held a vase and framed photo of Dana and her parents, which looked to come to my chest. I pointed the camera at my body. Ah, that’s why! The house was no longer here, and since I was standing on the ground, I wasn’t standing at floor level. Everything beneath my knees hid below the timber floor.
I clicked a couple of shots and showed Beren, who had stopped next to me. He nodded. Holding my camera up, I followed the image through a tall doorway and into a massive living area that was two-stories tall. Thick beams criss-crossed the span, pendant lights hanging from them, casting a warm glow over the whole area. On my left, huge three-metre tall windows started at the floor and ran in a row of four till they reached the open-plan kitchen. On the right, about halfway across on the second level, a walkway looked over the space. Bookshelves filled with books lined the walkway, and a door led to what was probably another corridor to bedrooms. This was one hell of an impressive home.
I snapped a couple of shots and again showed Beren. “Wow,” he breathed. “Nice digs.”
“Nice, indeed. What a shame it burnt down.” I frowned. Even sadder was that someone had died. But why? I hoped we found out tonight. Please, can my parents have had nothing to do with it.
I didn’t know if I was going to have to wander around for this next question, or even if I’d get the answer I wanted, but I needed to ask it nevertheless. “Show me where the fire
started.”
Dana’s mother lay on one of their plush camel-coloured leather lounges only a couple of metres from where I stood. I clicked off several shots as I turned, taking in the whole room and the upstairs walkway. Standing in the kitchen, in front of another door, was Dana’s father. He held his hand aloft. It was at the same height as the burning material that hovered over the couch his wife lay on. She must have been asleep when it happened. Magically induced sleep?
Dana’s dad’s face held regret, sadness, but not horrendous grief. And Dana’s mum wasn’t wearing the same dress she’d had on while greeting my parents at the front door. I guess we could narrow down when they would have been here based on their travel records to the UK. It would have been while I was alive—and judging by how they looked, not too long before they disappeared.
I turned back to the couch. Would the fire settle on Dana’s mother first? Surely that would be too cruel and would have woken her up. I drew in a sharp breath. Oh. My. God.
Beren’s voice sounded far away. “Lily, what’s wrong?”
Nausea frothed the contents of my gut, slamming those bits of food against my stomach walls as if they were a boat in a storm, and heat just short of scalding slid uncomfortably from my hands up my arms. Sweat slicked my fingers and brow.
The fiery material flickered and sank towards the couch. I clicked the shutter button, photographing as it went, instinct kicking in because I sure as hell didn’t have my wits about me in that moment. The flaming cloth landed on the cushion at Dana’s mother’s feet and set it alight.
Killer Witch in Westerham Page 11
