Spell Booked

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by Joyce


  I gritted my teeth. He was being so obnoxious. “What about the murder weapon? And don’t blame me because I’ve been married to a cop for the last thirty years.”

  “As a matter of fact, we searched his houseboat today. We found the knife on board. Surprised?”

  Not surprised. Dumbfounded. It was as though someone were watching the shop.

  To make matters worse, Larry was on the verge of changing. The full moon was only a few nights away. I wasn’t sure how shape-shifters had avoided police and government detection in the last hundred years or so. I knew it was vital for it to remain that way. The council certainly worked hard to keep witches under the radar.

  I knew Larry wasn’t guilty. I knew he was being set up by the rogue witch and her accomplice. Were we getting close? Did they throw Larry into the mix to make it harder for us to find out who they were—as they might have done with Brian that day?

  It seemed laughable to me that a witch as powerful as the one we were talking about would be worried about me, Elsie, Dorothy or even Brian. He or she would know that we weren’t exactly a force to be reckoned with.

  I couldn’t try to persuade Joe to investigate further without sounding as though I knew more than I was telling. The witch thought he had us right where he wanted us.

  Maybe he did—but I had one more card to play. It was risky. I’d never contemplated it before. I had to do something. This seemed to be the only answer.

  “Could I talk to you for a moment in the bedroom?” I began walking in that direction.

  “You’re in for it now, Dad.” Mike laughed. “I know that voice. I think it was the same voice I heard when I got that C minus in chemistry last quarter.”

  Joe looked surprised as he finished eating the slice of pizza he’d started. “Sure, Molly.”

  My hands were shaking and cold. I fingered both amulets around my neck. If they had any magic to lend me, this would be a good time. I was terrified, not only of doing the wrong thing, but that I would screw it up.

  “What’s up?” He came into the bedroom and closed the door. “If it’s about what happened today at the police station—”

  “It’s something to do with that.” I moved close to him and hoped that what I was about to do would work.

  I muttered an enchantment that I’d learned when I was very young. It was very basic and simple. It was supposed to create a barrier between a witch and the world around her. Light, sound and other distractions were eliminated.

  The witch could use this for meditation or for making a place where she couldn’t be heard talking to another person. The spell was also to neutralize all other spells that might have been cast on the witch.

  “What’s going on, Molly? What are you doing?”

  I heard fear in Joe’s voice and slowly opened my eyes.

  We were encased in a neutral space. Everything had become colorless around us. There was no sound except our voices. No witchcraft except my own.

  I did it! The amulets felt warm against my skin.

  “This is a safe place for us to talk,” I explained. “We can’t be overheard. How do you feel?”

  He surveyed the small space around us. “I feel like I’ve been kicked in the head. What happened?”

  “What’s the last thing you remember?”

  He thought back. “You told me you wanted to talk. What’s going on?”

  I studied his face. “There is no easy way to tell you this, but it’s necessary.”

  “What? I’ve lost my mind? I’ve had a stroke? Whatever it is, I need to know.”

  I smiled, even though my stomach was in knots. “I’m a witch.”

  “In other words, I’ve lost my mind. I guess that explains it. You’re not really here. Maybe I’m not here either.”

  “It’s dangerous for me to tell you this, or I would’ve told you years ago. Witches are bound to serve the Grand Council. The council has been known to wipe out entire lives full of memories from people like you who have no magic.”

  “Yeah. Can I just go back to sleep now? Maybe I’ll survive and this will be a bad dream.”

  “I’m afraid it’s not that easy. I wouldn’t have done this if something terrible hadn’t happened.”

  I explained everything—from Olivia and Elsie being witches to what had happened with Brian and Mike. I could see from his face how hard it was for him to take it all in. It would’ve been hard for anyone. But for a man who deals with facts and figures every day for a living, it was almost impossible.

  “So this bad witch has threatened me and Mike. Someone killed Olivia for her magic and took your spell book for the same purpose.”

  “That’s right.”

  “And then he went after Larry Tyler to throw someone else under the bus. Does that sum it up?”

  “Yes. I know it’s hard to believe.”

  “It’s impossible to believe. There isn’t any real magic in the world, Molly. This isn’t Bewitched. Either you—or I—need a shrink.”

  “There might be a way I can convince you.” I thought fast, feeling desperate for this to work. I was tired of being alone and worried about him. “I might be able to do one other spell.”

  I concentrated hard on doing one of the first spells I’d ever learned. I wasn’t an air witch, like Olivia; it would’ve been easier on water.

  “Hey!” Joe called out. “Molly, what’s going on?”

  I opened my eyes. Both of us were still inside the enchanted bubble, but I had also managed to displace enough air that we were floating about a foot off the bedroom carpet.

  “It worked! I’ve been having a little trouble with my spells recently. But this one worked.”

  “I believe you. I believe you.” He put his arms around me. “Now, please put us back down.”

  I shouldn’t have said anything about the spell working. We were abruptly dropped back to the floor. The privacy bubble still maintained around us, but even that magic was starting to give me a headache.

  “There are witches and shape-shifters, Joe. There are also werewolves, like Larry, who will go through the change in one of your jail cells if you don’t find a way to release him.”

  “What can I do, Molly? We’ve got so much against him. I can’t let him go.”

  “We’ll have to think of something.” The bubble around us was starting to deteriorate. The world was starting to push back. “When we get out of here, Joe, we can never speak of this again outside a neutral space like this.”

  “But what if something comes up?”

  “We need a code word.”

  “What about ‘broccoli’? You know how much I hate broccoli. I’d never even say the word unless it was an emergency.”

  “‘Broccoli’ it is.”

  “I love you, Molly.” He kissed me and held me tight. “In case I haven’t said it since Olivia died.”

  “I was afraid you thought I’d killed Olivia,” I said quickly.

  “I didn’t think that. I was just afraid that you might be involved in some other way. Everything has been so weird. I guess I know why now.”

  The enchanted bubble slowly melted away, like ice after a winter storm. We were back in the real world.

  “I love you too.” It was a terrible risk I’d taken telling him the truth. I’d known so many witches who’d regretted telling their spouses about magic. I could only hope I wouldn’t be sorry.

  There was a rap on the bedroom door before Mike opened it. “Hey! You guys aren’t supposed to be in here doing this kind of thing. Dad, Lisbet is here to see you.”

  “Thanks,” Joe said with a wink at me. “And we’re married. We can do it whenever and wherever we want.”

  “You know, I just ate,” Mike retorted and left the room.

  “Right.” Joe took a deep breath before he followed him.

  Despite my fears, my hear
t felt light and free. Joe still loved me as I had always loved him. Thirty years hadn’t diminished what I felt for him.

  I went into the kitchen and grabbed a slice of pizza as Joe and Lisbet spoke together quietly by the door. “Hello, Lisbet,” I said pleasantly.

  “Oh, hey, Molly. Sorry if we gave you a rough time today. Just following the leads as they come up. I never thought you had anything to do with killing your friend.”

  “I understand. Don’t worry about it. I’m glad you got Olivia’s killer.”

  “Yeah. Me too.”

  Joe and Lisbet went out. They were starting another case that they had a lead on. Now that their part of the investigation into Olivia’s murder was over, they were free to move on to something else.

  It seemed to me that it was a good thing. Without all the attention focused on a case that involved me, there would be less pressure on Joe.

  On the other hand, there was the matter of getting Larry out of jail. There was only one way I could think of to take care of that problem—we were going to have to speak to the local werewolf representative.

  CHAPTER 23

  The perfect love is here for me

  The only one who is meant to be.

  This spell guides us to unite,

  Stay with me through this tonight.

  I called Elsie first thing the next morning.

  It had been such a pleasure to really be with Joe again. He’d come home late last night, and we’d talked in roundabout language to manage a few words about magic. We’d gotten up together and eaten breakfast. Mike had slept in, of course. It was nice to have the private time together.

  “I’ll see you later,” Joe said when he’d kissed me good-bye.

  It was a wonderful, lingering kiss. “Yes. I love you. Good luck today.”

  “You too.” He glanced around the room. “You know, your friend has no attorney. He’s supposed to be appointed one today at his bail hearing. They aren’t always the best in the world.”

  I took the tip that he gave me. I didn’t see where there was any harm in what he’d said. I could tell he was nervous saying it. I knew it would always have to be this way.

  I couldn’t tell Elsie about my big reveal to Joe. I knew she’d never told Bill. She didn’t trust him not to make a mistake, despite their long relationship.

  It was one of the perks of being married to another witch, as Olivia had said. You could share that deepest part of yourself with that person.

  I picked Elsie up at her house. Aleese was surprisingly pleasant. She asked me if I wanted to come in for coffee. Elsie was putting the finishing touches on her purple ensemble, including purple hat and shoes.

  “We don’t have time for coffee,” she told her daughter. “There are important matters afoot.”

  “Better grab an umbrella, Mom,” Aleese said. “It’s supposed to rain today. Good luck with your important matters.”

  Elsie grabbed a purple-flowered umbrella from the stand near the front door. “Love you, darling. Take care.”

  As we were walking out to the car, I commented on Elsie’s rejuvenated relationship with her daughter. “The two of you were very nearly friendly today.”

  “She’s seeing someone. It always puts her in a better mood. I think I may have done a love spell that worked for her. Now, tell me again why we’re going to see the werewolf representative. You know they mostly don’t like us.”

  “And we don’t like them.” I opened the car door for her and then went around to the driver’s side. “It’s the age-old feud between witches and everyone else.”

  “There’s plenty of good reason for that,” she reminded me, closing her door after I helped her buckle up.

  “I’m sure there is, but there’s even more good reason for us to try to address this issue with Larry. If he turns in jail, it could be disastrous.”

  “Let’s break him out,” Elsie suggested. “There’s no reason to involve other werewolves. You know Larry is nothing like them.”

  “I don’t think we should try to do this by ourselves.”

  We had never been to Dorothy’s apartment. It was on Market Street, within walking distance of the library. The building had once been an old hospital during the Civil War. Now it was four apartments.

  Dorothy came out with a cat carrier. She and Elsie exchanged compliments on each other’s choice of purple garments. She was wearing a white top with a purple and pink plaid skirt. Her black boots went slightly below her knee.

  “I thought I’d bring my cat with me today. It might be good for him to hang out with your cats. You seem to be able to communicate with Harper, Isabelle and Barnabas. Scooter doesn’t communicate with me.”

  “Scooter?” Elsie’s tone made it clear what she thought of the cat’s name. “You’ll have to come up with something better than that. A witch’s cat needs a classic name.”

  “Oh. Is that the problem?” Dorothy glanced around in the car. “Where’s my mother? Did she decide to stay home?”

  Elsie and I exchanged guilty smiles.

  “Olivia doesn’t really have a home anymore,” I explained. “She lives wherever her staff is.”

  “Where’s that?” Dorothy played with her cat through the mesh in the carrier.

  “Last night, it was Smuggler’s Arcane,” Elsie said. “Tonight, it could be wherever you choose to take her.”

  “Was I supposed to be responsible for that?” Dorothy’s face was shocked. “I didn’t know. Of course I’ll start taking her home with me.”

  “I think that’s a good idea.” I smiled at her in the rearview mirror.

  “Have you heard anything from the council of witches?” Dorothy asked.

  “Not yet.” I pulled the car into the parking lot in front of the shop. “Let’s pick up the staff and drop off your cat. We need to speak with the werewolf representative right away. The sooner we get Larry out of jail, the better.”

  “Don’t the werewolves keep track of each other like the council of witches seems to keep track of you—I mean us?”

  I turned off the engine. “They’re a little more loosely organized. I’m hoping they’ll do something about Larry. No one is going to like it if we step in.”

  “If they won’t do anything,” Elsie said, “I’ll be glad to put up my house as collateral for a bail bondsman for him.”

  “Really?” I asked as I got out of the car. “He has a boat. He could be gone right after we get him out.”

  “He’s a dear friend.” Elsie eased out of the car. “I don’t want to leave him there. Besides, if people find out werewolves exist, witches could be next.”

  I hadn’t even noticed a small man by the shop door until we were already halfway up the stairs. Elsie immediately drew her sword.

  “Wait!” He held up his hand. “I’m an attorney hired by Olivia Dunst to make sure her will is honored following her recent demise.”

  “He’s a witch.” Elsie sniffed, not standing down with her sword. “How can we trust him? He might be the rogue witch.”

  Dorothy agreed. “We can’t invite him in. He could kill us too.”

  I considered the problem. “I guess we’ll have to talk to him out here. Sorry, Mr.—?”

  “Brannigan. Richard Brannigan, madam.” He held out a business card. He was barely three feet tall and wore his glasses perched on the end of his large nose. His suit was impeccably tailored. He looked like a lawyer.

  “This is Dorothy Lane. I believe she’s the beneficiary of Olivia’s will.” I opened the shop door and grabbed the staff. “Olivia, can you come out here, please?”

  She appeared on the old concrete landing outside the door. It was cracked and had plants growing in it.

  “I can’t believe you girls left me behind last night. You knew I couldn’t go anywhere unless one of you took the staff. I had to spend the night wi
th those three cats. And I think the shop has mice.”

  Richard Brannigan’s eyebrows went up. “Am I to understand that Miss Dunst is now a ghost?”

  Olivia noticed him for the first time. “That’s right. I was murdered before my time. You must be Mr. Brannigan. I’m Olivia Dunst. This is my daughter and sole heir, Dorothy.”

  “We’re doing this out here because of you-know-who,” Elsie told her. “We don’t want to invite someone we don’t know into the shop.”

  “I assure you, madam, that I have the highest references and credentials you could hope to find.” Mr. Brannigan’s voice was high-pitched and nasal.

  “Yes—but can you assure us that you’re not an evil witch who’s stealing artifacts of magic and killing other witches?” Elsie squinted into his eyes.

  “Probably not.”

  “I’ll get a few chairs,” Dorothy volunteered.

  “I’ll make tea.” Elsie went inside.

  Dorothy released Scooter into the shop. There was immediately a chorus of howls, hisses and meows. “I don’t think the other cats are going to play nice with Scooter.”

  “Well, no wonder. What kind of name is that for a cat?” Olivia asked.

  “He scooted across the floor on his butt a lot when he was a kitten.” Dorothy shrugged. “It seemed like an appropriate name.”

  “Let’s deal with this later,” I suggested, lifting the table. “Our time is valuable, and so is Mr. Brannigan’s.”

  We brought the table and chairs out of the shop and sat on the landing within the sights and sounds of the river. There were hundreds of yachts, commercial vessels and small pleasure boats out on the water that morning. The sun poured down on the city and warmed the cool air around us.

  As we drank tea, Mr. Brannigan went over all the important details in Olivia’s will. The house, money—everything she’d ever owned except the Mercedes—went to Dorothy. The ownership of the Mercedes might be up for approval by the council of witches.

  Dorothy looked stunned as the change that was coming to her life began to sink in. She took the file that contained the deed to the house.

  “Now, because Miss Dunst was killed prematurely, there will be a small fee for my firm to file something that will allow the mundane courts to process this claim.”

 

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