Westerham Witches and a Venetian Vendetta

by Dionne Lister

  “Good thinking, ninety-nine.”

  “Wouldn’t I be Maxwell Smart? I’m the man, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

  I smirked. “Oh, I’ve noticed. Anyway, it’s just a saying.” The end of the conversation and we’d reached the people in the corner. Of course, Angelica, Imani, and my mother were already there. They must’ve been who I glimpsed as I was leaving. My mother had her arm around a woman… the same woman who had argued with that guy this afternoon. The woman was crying and gesturing to a glass statue. Huh? That hadn’t been there earlier today. Had it been cracked during delivery and she’d only just figured it out?

  I looked past her and my mother at Imani and Angelica, who were giving the statue the once over. It was a life-size glass sculpture of a man. The head was blue, which faded into green, then yellow, then the legs were cream. For glass, the detail was incredible. I cocked my head to the side. It looked familiar. Was it stolen? Although why that lady would be so upset about it, I had no idea. Maybe she was worried about being accused of taking it?

  Angelica finished inspecting the sculpture and spoke to the woman in Italian. After a bit of back and forth, Angelica nodded. She turned to Imani. “Record those three magic signatures and send them through to James. We’ll see if they’re on the system.”

  “Can you access international records?” I asked. For some stupid reason, I figured they usually accessed information on British people, but, of course, all the agencies would file their information into the PIB database, giving access to Paris, New York, Rome, and all the places that had bureaus. Embarrassment about my stupidity squashed the pride of remembering the keys. One cancelled out the other. Oh well.

  Imani looked at me and raised her brow. “Lily, how long have you been working with us? I’m pretty sure you already know the answer to that.”

  I nodded and pressed my lips together. “Mmhmm. Yes. Yes, I do. Forget I said anything. Is it solid glass? It looks heavy.” It would’ve taken some serious magic to move it here.

  I walked past the woman and Angelica and placed my hand on the statue’s shoulder. I loved the smooth coolness of glass. I wrinkled my forehead. “Oh. Is it warm because the weather’s warm?”

  Angelica donned her poker face. Oh dear. Why did she have to do that? Was the holiday over already? “It’s warm because the man underneath it hasn’t been dead for very long.”

  I snatched my hand back, my heart racing, and stared at the statue. “There’s a real man under here?” Why did murder have to find us wherever we went?

  “Yes, sort of. Someone turned him to glass, although his internal organs would still be there. His skin and hair, all the externals, have been turned to glass.”

  Will came to stand next to me. He scrutinised the face. “This is the man we saw this morning after your bird altercation.”

  My mouth dropped open. “It is too!” I didn’t want to cast aspersions, but I turned and looked at the grieving woman, assessing her reaction. She did look pretty upset. A tissue was clutched in her fist, and her red eyes were still leaking tears. I put my hand on my stomach. Why was I feeling queasy? Maybe I’d had enough of crime and murder to last me forever. This was supposed to be time to escape, yet trouble always found us.

  Angelica looked at Will. “I’ll need to talk to both of you, but before I do, I want to check in with the local PIB. We’ve got two agents located in Trieste, a port city a couple of hours away. I don’t want to lead this investigation because a, we’re on holiday and b, I don’t want Chad getting involved and messing anything up. I don’t want to get the locals offside. Best let them lead this one. We can help if required.”

  Will and I shared a look of disbelief. Angelica taking a back seat? That was new. I pushed my unease aside and whispered to him, “Want to bet on it?” Maybe being silly would distract me until we could go back to bed and look forward to what we were doing tomorrow.

  “Okay. I’m saying twenty-four hours.”

  “I’m saying twelve.”

  “What are the stakes?” Imani had approached. “I might want in.”

  I shrugged. “Fifty pounds?” I could afford that, and it was a large enough amount that the winner would get excited.

  She grinned. “I’m in. I’m saying thirty hours.”

  I gave her an “are you kidding” look. “You sure?”

  “She is on holidays. It might take a while for it to get the better of her.” Imani smirked.

  Angelica folded her arms. “I’ll take this bet. I’m betting never.”

  We all stared at her. Will smiled. “Do you even know yourself?”

  She smirked. “Better than anyone else does.” She created a bubble of silence. “Lily, I don’t want you taking any photos. This isn’t important enough to risk your secret getting out, and we’re on holidays. I also don’t think the Italians would appreciate too much interference. We’ll let them do their investigation their way. I’ll offer to help, but I want you and Will to just enjoy the holiday.” My whole body relaxed—we didn’t have to get involved. Thank God. She waved us away and dropped the bubble of silence. “Go to bed. I’ll deal with the law enforcement when they get here. They can figure this out. We’re going to see the glass-blowing tomorrow. I still want you at breakfast at eight, so we can all enjoy each other’s company.” She looked at my mother, who’d been quiet this whole time. Did the crime bring back her own suffering and make her think of being imprisoned by Dana’s father? Surely it must. “You can stay. You’ve always had a good eye for these things. We’ll go up to the room shortly.”

  My mother gave her a small smile. “Thanks. This one’s… interesting. It’s been a long time.” I figured Angelica was giving her an out in case she didn’t want to go to the room by herself. I kept my sigh to myself—seeing my mum still tormented made my heart sore.

  I slid my arms around Mum and kissed her cheek. “Night, Mum. See you tomorrow.”

  She squeezed me tight. “Night, my beautiful girl. Sweet dreams.”

  Will, Imani, and I made our way back inside. Even though I’d lose fifty pounds, I hoped that Angelica won the bet. I’d be so upset if our holiday was already all but over. Seriously, what did a girl have to do around here to get a break? At least Angelica hadn’t asked me to take any photos. Maybe she was trying to spare me the grief on my holiday, or maybe she didn’t want to offend the local agents? Whatever the reason, I was happy not to be involved. I was here to relax, and getting involved in a murder investigation wasn’t high on anyone’s list of relaxing things to do on holiday. Now I just had to hope the Italian authorities solved this one quickly.

  The next morning, we woke at seven thirty to voices coming from the courtyard through the open window. A glimpse outside showed two men—witches—and Angelica. The men must be from the PIB. The statue was still there. Were they going to leave that poor man there forever? Surely not. It wasn’t worth worrying about, though… well, as long as Angelica was coming to Murano—the island where the glass-blowing was—with us.

  Thankfully, Angelica made it to breakfast, and then she came with us. Imani, Will, and I shared a surprised look as we left the hotel. I checked my watch. Only two-and-a-half more hours, and I’d lose the bet. Damn… sort of. There was also a yay that our holiday was still on track.

  The boat trip to Murano was uneventful. I’d brought my Nikon, and I snapped a few shots along the way, including ones of my friends and family enjoying the ride. I even captured my mother’s radiant smile a couple of times. Since we’d saved her, she hadn’t been withdrawn, exactly, but whenever no one was talking to her, a faraway look glazed her eyes, and she sat expressionless. There must be so much going on in her head. I’d asked her a few times if she wanted to talk about it, but she refused. Maybe she just needed time to process. Goodness knew it had taken long enough for me to adjust to life in another country, and that wasn’t nearly as stressful as being held captive for ten years and losing your husband. Oh, and also losing your magic. Sadness leeched into my heart, and I sighe
d.

  Will, who was sitting next to me holding my hand, wrinkled his brow. “What’s wrong?”

  I blinked. “Oh, nothing. Just thinking about Mum.” I gave him a sad smile.

  He squeezed my hand. “I know. It’ll get better slowly. You need to give her time. She’ll find her way through it. Don’t forget, she was an agent, and she survived this long. She’s more resilient than you know.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” The boat slowed as we approached our stop. I pushed thoughts of my mother aside—I’d waited so long for this holiday, and I was going to do the best to enjoy it. Plus, Mum was here, which was way more than I’d expected. I smiled. “We’re here!”

  “Smile!” Imani pointed her phone at Will and me. I wasn’t in many pictures because I was usually the one taking them, so I leaned into Will and did as asked. “You two are so cute.” After a moment, she lowered the phone and looked at the screen. “I’ll text them to you.”

  My phone pinged. “Thank you, lovely.” I opened the app and showed Will. “Aw, look at us.”

  He grinned. “We look happy.”

  “We do.” Warmth spread through my chest. I was actually in Venice, on the trip of a lifetime with the man of my dreams. So many cliches, but so good.

  Lavender, who’d been sitting opposite us, folded his arms. “When am I going to get you on the runway, William? You’d kill it.”

  Will adopted a no-nonsense expression. “Never, Lav. My sister is the model in this family, and that’s fine with me.”

  Sarah laughed. “Lav’s right. You’d rake it in. But I’m not encouraging you. Having my big brother around all the time would be… suffocating.”

  I shook my head. “Lav, you can’t have him. If he’s swanning around with a whole lot of gorgeous models, he’ll probably leave me, and then I’ll blame you, and we won’t be able to be friends.”

  “Lovie, Will knows what he’s got. I don’t think any of those ladies would be enough to tempt him.” Maybe Lavender was right, but maybe he wasn’t, and I didn’t want to take that chance.

  Will bumped his shoulder against mine. “Don’t worry, Lily. You’ve got me forever, and I am never modelling anything.” He picked up my hand and waved it around. “This ring proves it.” I was being so stupid, but I couldn’t help it. Since we’d rescued my mother and shut down RP, I was waiting for something to go wrong. We’d never had proper peace. I could even wander up to Costa by myself or just with Liv and have a meal without worrying someone would kill me. It was a novel experience for sure. But how long would it last? The watercraft shuddered to a halt, interrupting my waste-of-time-and-energy thoughts.

  The water bus docked, and we stood. We filed off onto Murano and followed Angelica. She might not be leading the investigation, but she was leading our expedition. Whatever made her happy was fine with me. Not having to organise stuff made my life easier.

  The cobbled path had lagoon on one side and a brick wall and buildings on the other. The sun shone and sparkled off the water, and a crowd of tourists ambled along the pathway. We couldn’t have asked for nicer weather.

  We passed a factory-looking building with a front courtyard behind the tall brick fence and iron gates. It advertised glass-blowing demonstrations for five euros a person. “Why aren’t we stopping here?”

  “She probably knows somewhere better,” said Imani.

  “Of course she does.” I should know not to ask. Angelica had a reason for everything. Maybe she was friends with whoever we were going to visit? It wouldn’t surprise me—she had connections everywhere.

  We bypassed another glass-blowing place that had demonstrations advertised for four euros. We finally stopped at a third. I narrowed my eyes. The building looked similar to the others we’d passed. “This one’s ten euros a visitor.”

  Will looked at me. “Since when did you become a cheapskate?”

  “I’m not. I’m just wondering. Maybe they’re better than the others?”

  “What do you mean, love?” Imani asked as we followed Angelica through the front courtyard and to the door.

  “The others were way cheaper than this. It’s probably because this one’s the best. I’m sure there’s a reason we’re here and not there.” I shrugged. Will and Imani shared a look. I raised a brow and lowered my voice. “Do you think this is part of the investigation?” The guy had been turned to glass after all. Maybe a glass-blowing professional had a vendetta against the victim?

  Imani shrugged. “She could still be questioning someone even if she wasn’t giving up her holiday and leading the investigation.”

  “How are we supposed to find out?” Gah! I should’ve spent time listening in on her conversation with those agents. They hadn’t used a bubble of silence. Oh, but they’d been speaking in Italian. I really was in holiday mode. And who could blame me? I’d spent over twelve months in constant panic mode. Now my brain was like, oh, a crime? I can’t hear you. La, la, la, la, la.

  Liv, who was in front of me with Beren, stopped walking and turned to me. “Just chill, lady. Enjoy the holiday. Angelica’s going to let those agents handle this, and you should too. Don’t give it a second thought.”

  Will nodded. “Listen to Liv. We’re here to see the sights. It’s not our circus, not our monkeys.”

  Angelica turned to Will and smiled. “Will’s right. Now, who’s ready to watch some artisans at work?” She turned away from us before we answered, then addressed a young woman who’d approached her. Angelica went with the woman to the cash register and took out her credit card.

  “She can’t pay for everyone!” I stepped forward to pay for Will and myself, but Will grabbed my wrist, stopping me.

  “Don’t worry. She can afford it, and I’m pretty sure she wants to. We’ll buy her a drink later.”

  I gave up. “Okay.” It was nice of her, but I hated owing people things. I was more than happy to pay for her, but not the other way around. Yes, it was hypocritical, but that was how I rolled. Fending for myself over the years had made me self-reliant. Asking for favours went against the grain, and Angelica had done so much for me already—letting me live in her home rent-free and risking her life to help find out what happened to my parents. I could hardly ask for more.

  While Angelica chatted to the woman serving her, I wandered around the showroom. So many gorgeous things. Multi-coloured sea creatures—fish, octopus, and starfish—lined the shelves. There were glasses and goblets, and, um, look at those prices. It was cool if you wanted one glass, but to get a set would cost a fortune. And then I’d be too scared to use them in case I smashed one. Ooh, pussy cats. Oh my God! Was that a tiny squirrel? The little squirrel standing on his hind legs was about an inch high. Orange, blue, yellow, and black swathes of colour swept from his feet to his head and the tip of his tail. His little friend next to him was on all fours, its tail high in the air. They were only ten euros each. I picked them up, just in case someone else grabbed them.

  Amusement laced Imani’s voice. “Oh, what a surprise that you picked those.”

  I grinned. “I know, right? You gotta admit; they’re super cute.”

  Will shook his head. “Tree rats are not cute.”

  I swatted his arm. “Don’t be mean. They’re adorable.” I went to the counter and paid just as Angelica finished up and turned around.

  “Our demonstration starts in two minutes. Come this way.” She and my mother led the way through a door at the side of the shop and straight into a high-clearance, concrete-floored area. The bare brick walls and exposed ceiling beams had oodles of character. I wondered how old this place was. Had it always been a glass factory? I could imagine a smithy making horseshoes and swords… proper metal ones, not glass ones.

  A large white sign had pictures of a black phone, a camera, and a video camera with red circles and lines through them. No photos. How ridiculous. Grrrrr. I’d come all this way, and we’d paid, and we couldn’t have a reminder of our visit. Well, I guessed the reminder would be the trinkets the tourists bought.
It still irked me. I took a deep breath and let out the angst. I was still here experiencing it, so I’d be grateful for that. Every day was precious, and I’d do well to remember it. Enjoy things for what they were and not get caught up wishing they were something else.

  Two rows of bench seats set up like mini-bleachers sat along a wall to our left. A furnace sat in the middle of the room; two artisans dressed in jeans and T-shirts stood near it. I blinked. They weren’t wearing aprons or gloves. As Will and I took our seats in the front, and Sarah and Lav sat to the other side of me, I whispered to Will, “Surely protective gear would be sensible?”

  “They’re witches. They’ll be fine. Even the non-witch artisans don’t wear them. I guess they have years of experience and don’t need them?”

  The lady who’d sold the tickets to Angelica, stood just in front of the seats and to the left. Her English was excellent, as was her melodious Italian accent. “Good morning, everyone. Welcome to Zanini Murano glass factory. Today, Francesco Zanini will demonstrate the exquisite art of glass-blowing, which started in Venice in around the seventh to eight centuries before Christ.”

  Francesco held a long metal pole. He rolled the end of it in glass beads, stuck the pole into the fire, then took it out and started his work, all the while the woman explaining what he was doing. When he blew into the pole, the real magic started. The glass expanded. Francesco twisted the pole, then blew a bit more. He worked the glass with tongs too. At the end, he’d created a small giraffe. I shook my head. Pretty amazing. He then started another piece, which ended up being part of a light fitting, and I didn’t feel any magic whatsoever. He wasn’t even using his witch powers. Impressive.