Thump.
As my eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness, I turned my gaze towards the direction of the noise. My gaze traveled up the spiral staircase and came to rest on a pair of stiletto heels attached to shapely legs.
“You-hoo! How do I look?” Aunt Pearl’s voice echoed against the high ceiling as her manicured hand gripped the spiral staircase railing. From my vantage point on the downstairs sofa, I saw only the bottom half of a crimson red sequined evening gown, shimmering under the halogen lights.
I bolted upright and swore under my breath as I absorbed the scene. My brief carefree mood from earlier had vanished. It wasn’t Aunt Pearl at all. It was Carolyn Conroe. “You can’t pull off a Carolyn here.”
Carolyn Conroe was Aunt Pearl’s alter ego, a magical Marilyn Monroe clone that my aunt shape-shifted into whenever she wanted to have some fun. Carolyn was even more reckless than Aunt Pearl, with a devious, unpredictable side. The thought of Carolyn unchecked and unsupervised in Las Vegas terrified me.
“Why not? Carolyn loves Vegas even more than I do.” A thigh-high slit exposed shapely legs as Aunt Pearl—or rather Carolyn—slowly and stiffly descended the stairs in her impossibly high heels.
Carolyn’s youth was only skin-deep; it still had to be carried on Aunt Pearl’s seventy-year-old arthritic legs. Even witchcraft couldn’t cover all the bases.
“What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.” She stopped a few stairs from the bottom and winked. “Project Vegas Vendetta, phase two.”
“What about Christophe? You can’t pull your shenanigans with him around. He can’t find out that we’re witches.” I had no idea when he planned to return. Since we had only arrived this morning, I had no idea whether he was a live-in butler, or if he clocked off at the end of his workday.
Aunt Pearl shook her head as she reached the staircase bottom. “Who cares? We’ll never see him again after this weekend. If he sees Carolyn, just tell him she’s a friend of yours.”
Like I had any choice. “What about Wilt?”
“Wilt’s so gambling-obsessed that he won’t notice a thing. Stop worrying about other people, Cen. Sheesh.” Carolyn grabbed a silver clutch purse off the coffee table and snapped it open as she walked towards the foyer. She puckered her lips and applied crimson lipstick. “I’ve got to run.”
Aunt Pearl’s happy mood seemed out of place for someone grieving their recently departed friend. I glanced beside me on the sofa, where Mom was still passed out, oblivious to our conversation. “I see you’re still mourning.”
“Carla would absolutely love my disguise,” she said. “Don’t worry, though, I’ll be mourning as my regular self. I just need to unwind a little in the casino first.”
“Change back before someone sees you.” My head pounded, like a bad hangover. I glanced at my half-full margarita on the coffee table. Christophe wasn’t the only one spiking drinks. I suspected Aunt Pearl had fortified my margarita with something.
“Girls just wanna have fun, Cen. Don’t be such a downer. Join me.”
My head throbbed as I stood. Aunt Pearl seemed completely unaffected, though she had much more to drink than I. I pointed to Mom on the sofa. “I can’t leave Mom like this. Whatever she drank at the funeral really did a number on her.”
Carolyn ignored me and hobbled to the door in her four-inch heels.
“Aunt Pearl?” I jumped from my seat and joined her in the foyer. “How long will you be gone?”
“Depends on what kind of action’s going on downstairs.”
“What if Christophe comes back?”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know. Get him to mix you some drinks, make dinner, whatever. Just keep him busy.”
I threw my hands in the air. “You can’t just leave us here. You tricked me into coming under false pretenses. I already missed my job interview and a date. I’m not putting up with any more of your crazy stuff.”
“All we did was attend a funeral. I admit it’s not every day that someone drops the casket, but, all in all, I thought things went okay.”
“You’re changing the subject.” I stomped my foot. “You did this on purpose, just to ruin my chance of a normal job and to stop me from dating Tyler.” I knew she knew, I might as well say it.
“Oh, Cendrine! Quit your whining. Stop obsessing over that man. He’s not worth it.” She placed her hands on her hips. “Why did you bother coming here in the first place?”
“You kidnapped me, remember?”
Carolyn batted her false eyelashes. “You’re being overly dramatic. Everything isn’t always all about you, you know.”
My mouth dropped open. “Me? You’re the drama queen.”
“You’re right. I am.” She smirked. “Maybe it would be best if you went back to Westwick Corners after all. We’ll talk more when I get back.”
“You’ll help me with a spell?” I brightened at the thought. A little magic help from Aunt Pearl and I could teleport back home in minutes. I could be back in my own bed tonight.
“Why don’t you practice your magic and we’ll see what we can do when I get back.”
“Can’t we do it now?”
Carolyn tapped her watch. “Sorry, no time. Maybe later. I’ve got stuff I need to deal with before it’s too late.”
My shoulders slumped in disappointment as I watched her leave. I padded back into the living room, thinking that worst-case scenario, I could catch a flight home. Maybe not tonight, but tomorrow morning. I’d borrow Mom’s credit card and pay her back later. I could be home in hours.
I brightened as I spied Mom’s laptop on the dining room table and flipped it open. My hopes quickly vanished when I discovered that the suite had no Internet. It was probably related to the “no phones” rule. There had to be wireless in the lobby. Maybe even a tour operator who could book me a flight home.
Mom snored peacefully on the sofa, her swollen ankle propped up on pillows. It seemed a shame to wake her up, but I also hesitated to leave her alone.
I brightened at the realization that she had a butler at her disposal. Christophe would return soon and could get her anything she needed for the short time I was away. Whether he worked for Manny or not, he seemed to treat us, and especially Mom, well.
Except for his killer cocktails, I reminded myself.
It wasn’t ideal to leave Mom, but the idea of leaving Aunt Pearl to her own devices was even worse.
I scribbled a note and left it on the coffee table in case Mom woke up, then headed down to the casino.
Chapter 26
I didn’t get far before I ran into Rocco at the bar. He occupied the same table as before. He sat with his back to the wall, which gave him a clear view of all the comings and goings in the lobby. That included me. He caught my eye and beckoned me over.
My pulse quickened as my eyes locked on his. Spell or not, my attraction to him was overpowering. Judging by his gaze, it seemed to be mutual. Despite my awareness of Aunt Pearl’s trickery, I was powerless to fight it.
“Cen—we need to talk.” He motioned for me to sit.
I took my seat, eyeing the same two thugs seated at the next table. It felt like déjà vu, though it made sense when you thought about it. As the hotel owner, Rocco had his own permanently reserved table.
Rocco downed his drink and leaned closer. “Grandma’s death was no accident. She had plenty of enemies, people with enough power to stop an investigation. Trouble is, the police are bought and paid for.”
The irony of a criminal complaining about police corruption struck me. “By whom?”
“Uncle Manny. I think he’s behind Grandma’s death.” Rocco’s eyes grew wistful. “He’s not actually my blood relative, but before the turf war started, our families were quite close. That all changed as Uncle Manny’s ambitions grew. It created a rift between our families. It’s one thing to fight over territory, but I never expected him to kill for it.”
That was exactly what crime families did, as far as I knew. Rocco was obviously in denial.
I didn’t know exactly what sort of rackets the Racatellis were involved in, and I didn’t want to know, either. But like it or not, Aunt Pearl had already involved me. “Carla obviously knew the risks involved in criminal activities.”
Rocco nodded. “She did, but she just wanted to make a little more money for a comfortable retirement. For her and me both, since I wanted out of the family business too. I planned to keep the hotel and other investments, but get rid of the shadier side businesses and go straight. Grandma tried to strike a deal with Manny, so we could go legit. But he wanted more. In this business, there’s only one way out. In a casket.”
Rocco made no mention of Manny and Carla’s secret wedding, so I wasn’t sure if he knew about it. If not, I didn’t want to be the one to break it to him.
“You think Manny was responsible for Carla’s death?” The circumstances surrounding her death were certainly suspicious, but they didn’t necessarily point to Manny. “Does he have an alibi?”
“He says he was at the casino, but I’ve gone through all the surveillance footage and there’s no sign of him. Yet he has a bunch of witnesses who said he was in a high-stakes poker game. Based on my video, they are obviously lying.”
“You told the police about this?”
“Of course, but they just discounted it. They still think it was an accident so they aren’t even investigating.”
I suddenly remembered the autopsy report I had left lying on the coffee table upstairs. What if Christophe returned to the suite and discovered it?
I stood. “Something’s come up. I’ve got to go, Rocco.”
“No—wait.” He grabbed my wrist, but just as quickly released it. “I think I can get them to open up the case.”
“That’s great.” I stepped back.
“Yes and no. If they do investigate and have to pin a murder on somebody, they’ll arrest me instead of Manny. I have no alibi, and everything to gain from Grandma’s death. I’d inherit everything.”
I shook my head. Poor Rocco really was in the dark. “That’s not reason enough. They need evidence against you.”
“Apparently they already have something, or at least a motive.”
“You? But why—”
“They’ll claim I was tired of waiting for Grandma to retire. Not only that, but I’d benefit from her demise. True, I’d inherit everything, but she shared everything with me already. I don’t know the business like she did, and the last thing I wanted—even from a business perspective—is for her to be gone. I can’t possibly run things as well as she did, not even close. But maybe with your help...” Rocco’s voice broke.
“I’m sorry, Rocco. I really don’t see how I can help. You need a lawyer, not a small town reporter.” An unemployable reporter at that. I stood.
“No—Cen, wait. See, I know your family secrets, just like you know mine. You’re the only one that can help me, Cen. If I can’t crack the corruption, I need help to expose it. Exactly the kind of help you can give me, as a witch.”
My mouth dropped open as I realized Rocco knew exactly the extent of the West family’s secret. “A spell isn’t going to bring Carla back, Rocco.”
“I know that, but maybe you can help me another way. Finding proof that Manny wasn’t where he said he was.”
“I don’t see how...”
“You can go back in time, retrace his steps, and see exactly the events leading up to the murder. Then we can tear apart his alibi in another way, make the police act on it.”
“What makes you think I can do that?”
“Pearl did a rewind spell for me once. As a favor when I lost a bunch of money that wasn’t mine. She saved my life that day.”
Aunt Pearl breaking the rules as usual. “Then why don’t you ask Aunt Pearl to help?”
“I can’t,” Rocco said. “She’s still very upset about Grandma. I don’t want to expose her to the truth about how Grandma actually died. Whatever that turns out to be.”
I turned around to look for any sign of Carolyn Conroe, but my aunt’s alter-ego was nowhere to be found. Which was good in a way, since she wasn’t exactly the grieving friend Rocco thought she was.
“I’d like to help, but truth is that I’m not a very good witch. Especially not with rewind spells. That’s pretty advanced magic.” Technically I could do a spell, but plenty could go wrong. It seemed like a bad idea to mix magic with mobsters. In truth, it scared me half to death. If I did it well, then Rocco would want repeat favors. And if I failed, who knew what the repercussions might be?
“I have faith in you, Cen. In fact, you’re the only person I can trust right now.”
Chapter 27
I left the bar after convincing Rocco to first call a lawyer and then pay the medical examiner a visit.
Maybe he could coax the truth out of the medical examiner. I hoped he could uncover the truth himself, without resorting to extreme measures. If only he could get a copy of that autopsy report the legitimate way. Then it would help both of us. It was worth a try.
If he couldn’t get answers, he could request to have Carla’s body exhumed for a second autopsy, but that was something I didn’t want to even think about right now.
The death by drowning diagnosis was very troubling. I flashed back to the coffin fiasco. Aside from the lack of water in Carla’s lungs, her serene expression was a dead giveaway. Drowning victims were never expressionless. Their facial expressions were inevitably ones of terror and desperation, frozen at the final moment when they realized that they had just lost the final fight of their life.
Suddenly I felt very sad. Whatever Carla’s deeds in life, they weren’t bad enough to end this way. I also felt sorry for my aunt at losing her lifelong friend, even if she chose inappropriate ways to express her sorrow.
Then there were my strange feelings for Rocco. I had never been attracted to him, yet I found myself thinking about him constantly. Almost as much as I thought about Tyler, in fact.
Tyler.
He had warned me not to get involved, and he was right. I should just go upstairs, enjoy our luxury suite, and watch over Mom until she woke up. Aunt Pearl’s promise to get me back home almost certainly came with strings attached, but at the moment it was my only viable option.
I walked in a daze, still trying to decide whether to track down Aunt Pearl and bail her out of whatever trouble she had found, or just go back upstairs to our suite. I was torn. Soon I found myself a few feet from the lobby elevators where a crowd had gathered.
I craned my neck to get a better look at the source of the excitement. The whistles and excited murmurs from the crowd made me guess that a rock star or Hollywood A-lister was in our midst. I wondered who was performing in the show lounge tonight.
A flash of red sequins and long blonde hair caught my eye and I got a sick feeling.
My fears were realized as Aunt Pearl—or rather her alter-ego, Carolyn Conroe—came into view. She twirled a rhinestone necklace around her fingers as she sang Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend in a sultry voice.
“Who is she?” A teenage girl handed me her phone and pointed to her and her mom. “Will you take our picture?”
Great. Aunt Pearl had not only morphed into her Carolyn Conroe shtick, but she flaunted it, pretending to be a celebrity to boot. I took a couple of pictures of the girl and her mom on either side of a smirking Carolyn before handing the girl’s phone back.
I glared at Carolyn, annoyed at her fan club just as much as my misplaced pity. She seemed oblivious to the events swirling around us. Instead, she just seemed like she was out to have a good time.
Carolyn winked saucily.
I closed my hand around Carolyn’s arm and steered her away from the crowd. “We need to talk.”
“Don’t you ever have any fun?” Carolyn swore under her breath. “Whatever happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. You know that.”
I ignored her comment and gripped her arm tighter. “We’re going upstairs, now!”
“Cen, wait. We can’t go without
Wilt. I think he’s in trouble.” Carolyn pouted.
Her expression looked genuine, though I knew better than to believe her. She tricked me every time. “He’s a grown-up. He can fend for himself.” It seemed inappropriate that my aunt, who was supposedly in mourning, should be so flippant with her witchcraft by changing into Carolyn and attracting all sorts of unwanted attention.
Carolyn shook his head. “Uh-uh. He’s a compulsive gambler. I should never have brought him here.”
“You never should have done a lot of things,” I scolded my aunt. “Like bringing me here against my will.”
A slight smile played across Carolyn’s lips. “You just need to have a little fun. Just let me find Wilt first. Then we’ll go upstairs.”
*****
Minutes later we found Wilt at a high stakes poker table. Even from twenty feet away, it was obvious that he was in trouble. His normally pallid complexion was bright red and he was sweating profusely. “He doesn’t exactly have a poker face, does he?”
“Doesn’t matter. All you need is a good hand.” Carolyn dismissed me with a wave. “Mind your own business and let Wilt have a little fun.”
Fun wasn’t anything close to what Wilt was experiencing, though he brightened considerably when he spotted Carolyn. I was immediately suspicious. “You were helping Wilt win, weren’t you?”
“Maybe for a while.” Carolyn flashed both a smile and a little leg for the benefit of the three other men at Wilt’s table. They leered in return. “I had them all so distracted, it just seemed like a wasted opportunity not to.”
“You know that’s not right, Aunt Pearl.” I shook my head. “It’s against WICCA rules to use magic to make money.” The rules were particularly strict about using magic for personal enrichment. Conjuring up money was strictly forbidden. While I wasn’t aware of any specific rules on gambling, I was pretty sure the same rules applied. Aunt Pearl wasn’t exactly printing banknotes, but what she was doing was awfully close.
My aunt rolled her eyes. “I know the rules, Cen. Who said I used magic? I didn’t need any. Just simple arithmetic.”
Rags to Witches Page 12
