Fortune Favors The Witch: A Paranormal Witch Cozy Mystery (Main Street Witches Book 2)

by Ani Gonzalez

  "How about my gold? I need it back."

  Sean dialed Olivia's number on his phone. "Can you bring him his bricks?"

  Olivia, still wearing her slinky silver dress, entered the room carrying two gold-colored bricks. She grimaced and handed one to Sean. He took it, groaning at the weight, and she laid the other one on the table carefully.

  "These things are heavy," she said. "Be careful."

  She wasn't kidding. The brick in his hand weighed at least twelve pounds. It was smooth and cold with a very realistic metallic sheen.

  Larry reached for the bricks eagerly, his eyes glinting.

  "Don't drop them," Olivia cautioned.

  He gave her a scornful glance and grabbed his props. He left the room as fast as he could, which wasn't very fast due to his heavy cargo.

  Sean stared after him thoughtfully.

  "How much would those things cost," he mused, "if they were real?"

  "Two million, three hundred and fifty-two thousand dollars with eighty-two cents," Olivia answered with a smug smile.

  "How do you know that?"

  She gave him a sheepish grin. "It was in one of his posters. He had a presentation set up in the Van Helsing room." She glanced at Larry's retreating back. "Too bad they're fake, right?"

  Sean rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Right."

  "Looks like we're done, then." She walked to the door. "See you tomorrow."

  "One more thing," he stood up, stretching his cramped muscles. This chair was practically a torture device. "Can we keep an eye on these guys?"

  "Way ahead of you. I used your deputization powers to keep the PRoVE guys busy. They will keep track of the AASC members."

  "Oh, good. That will keep PRoVE out of trouble too. Great idea."

  Her chin went up and her eyes twinkled. "That's what I thought too."

  He smiled. "Don't let it go to your head. Good night."

  She walked off in a cloud of silver sparkles. Sean stood in the room, staring at the table. He'd expected the bricks to be hollow and light. Instead, they'd been heavy. Rock solid.

  Could they possibly...

  It was too silly. But the idea wouldn't go away. He exited the business center intending to go back to his room, but found himself walking toward the Van Helsing room instead.

  It was empty and clean. The motel staff had cleared the mess and reorganized the furniture. It looked like any other hotel conference meeting room.

  Save for the framed wooden stakes that lined the walls, of course.

  He strolled to the exhibition area, where tables with posters and signs were set up. There was a weather balloon exhibit, a discussion on Incan and Aztec encounters with aliens, a life-sized rendering of Quetzalcoatl, the Winged Serpent...and a station arguing that aliens used gold to power their spaceships.

  He took a handout explaining the chemical process involved in gold-powered spaceships, and read it. It was complete gibberish, of course. But, if someone believed it...

  Belief was powerful.

  He grabbed his phone and typed a quick e-mail to his contacts at FinCEN. It was risky, and it might cost him his credibility with the feds.

  But it might also break the case. Good cops learned to think like criminals. It was a necessary skill. The guys he was dealing with here in Banshee Creek weren't drug dealers or Mafia bosses, but they still had their own internal logic. All he had to do was figure it out and see where it led.

  He left the Van Helsing room and took the elevator upstairs. When he reached his room, he found Luanne curled up under the plaid wool blanket, fast asleep. The television was on. Had she been watching a Scooby-Doo marathon?

  He grabbed the remote and turned off the television. He had enough paranormal mysteries right now, thank you.

  He took a shower and changed. When he returned to the bedroom he found Luanne awake. She was sitting on the bed, wearing a silky blue-green nightgown that clung seductively to every curve and a somewhat endearing pout.

  "Now I'll never find out if the dilapidated carnival was haunted."

  "I can clear that up for you. It was the old caretaker with either a mask or a fog machine, or maybe both. He was trying to swindle someone, or maybe kick them out of the carnival. The paranormal stuff was just a red herring."

  The words lingered in his mind, as if trying to tell him something. But Luanne laughed, red curls tumbling over blue silk, and he lost his train of thought.

  "Good to know," she said, eyes twinkling. "Did everything turn out okay downstairs?"

  "Yes." He crawled into bed with her, more interested in how things would turn out up here than in the mess in the conference room. "I'll have a ton of paperwork to fill out tomorrow."

  She turned to lean against him. He could feel the warmth of her body pressed against his side and the silky fabric of her nightgown grazing his skin. It was a very nice distraction.

  "Do you have time for lunch?" she asked, running her fingers down his chest. "I'm doing a presentation at the library tomorrow. PRoVE is hosting and they'll be doing Ghostbusters-themed catering."

  He groaned, partly because of the prospect of a PRoVE-hosted lunch, but mostly because her touch was driving him crazy. "What does that entail exactly?"

  She giggled. "Mini knish, authentic New York hot dogs, and warm pretzels with mustard, with Stay-Puft marshmallow cupcakes and green Jell-O for dessert."

  "What's the green Jell-O for?" He paused, thinking. "Oh, that's gross."

  "The presentation is part of their new anti-fraud campaign. They're going all out."

  An anti-fraud campaign that the Banshee Creek Sheriff was sponsoring. Crap, he really should drop by. He should probably eat some green Jell-O too.

  The things he did for his job.

  "I'll be there," he said, then turned and wrapped his arms around her lush, soft body. "But I have other interests right now."

  Her lips parted as he leaned in for a kiss.

  "And they have nothing to do with ghost cupcakes."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  "WHAT DO you mean it's still checked out?" Luanne whispered urgently into her phone.

  She was in the Monster Hunter Motel's business center, trying to finish her horoscopes. Sean had left for work two hours ago, but she couldn't go home yet, because Honoria was still in the midst of severe Winchester withdrawal. As a result, she'd come downstairs to get some work done. That was a mistake. The business center looked like an FBI surveillance van and was every bit as uncomfortable. She was dying to go home.

  But she couldn't.

  "Sorry, Luanne," Holly replied. "But the DVD should be in sometime today. Our fines apply after five o' clock." Her voice dropped threateningly. "And no one wants to get fined."

  Five o' clock? That seemed an eternity right now. But it couldn't be helped, so she did her best to swallow her disappointment. "Thanks, Holly."

  Luanne hung up, feeling downright despondent. She had her last three horoscopes and a presentation to complete, and she was going to have to do them in the torture chair. Stupid hormonal poltergeist.

  She opened her laptop and got to work. She didn't have to draw her own horoscope to figure out that there would be a serious backache in her future, but, still, there were eleven other star signs she had to take into account. She took a deep breath, trying out the relaxation technique Kat had recommended, and focused on her task. Virgo, you little minx, what will you be up to next month?

  Once she finished her horoscopes—sucks to be you next month, Libra—she turned to the presentation she had to give this afternoon. She was nervous about it and she'd dealt with it, as always, by some creative procrastinating. She'd already compiled a deck of slides describing the history of fortune-telling, but she had to revise it to focus on frauds. It was slow, but engrossing work.

  A couple of hours later, she had a final version of the presentation, a debilitating pain in her lower back, and a desperate need for an iced coffee from the Banshee Creek Bakery. She saved her work and turned off her compu
ter. She deserved a treat, and a sizable royalty payment for her Swipe Left or Right: What Does Your Star Sign Say? book had just been deposited in her bank account. She could afford a small splurge.

  She was packing up when xenoarchaelogist Mary burst into the room, holding a USB drive in her hand. She glanced at Luanne's laptop.

  "So sorry," she said, with an apologetic grimace. "Do you mind if I print out some materials? A few of our members aren't very tech-savvy, and we want to give them maps for the encounter tonight."

  "Sure," Luanne resumed her packing. "I'm almost done."

  Mary headed for a computer console with a Solomon Kane screen saver. "Thanks. Larry just finished these. They took him longer than we expected, what with all the, er, excitement last night." She put the drive into the computer and tapped impatiently as she waited for the data to load.

  "I hope he's okay," Luanne said. The AASC members were kooky, but they seemed harmless, and, to be honest, she'd almost grown fond of them.

  "He's fine," Mary said, printing out her maps. "He's a Leo, and, like you said in last month's horoscope, he found significant obstacles and overcame them."

  Luanne frowned. Hadn't Mary said that she didn't believe in horoscopes? And, yet, here she was, citing her work with perfect accuracy. And hadn't she said something about waiting for the next one? Odd. Maybe she was just embarrassed to admit that she relied on astrology?

  Great, someone who believed aliens regularly visited Earth was ashamed of her astrology fix.

  "Right," Luanne grabbed her bags. "See you tonight."

  Mary glanced back. "This afternoon, actually. The Sheriff contacted us this morning and strongly recommended that we attend the lecture at the library."

  "Really?" That was strange. Sean hadn't said anything about that. "Well, I hope you enjoy it."

  Mary's smile was both gracious and insincere. "I'm sure we will." She looked at the printer and her eyes widened in dismay. "Oh, what fresh hell is this? I don't need a paper jam."

  Luanne left her still struggling with the printer and headed for the hotel entrance. Why was Sean inviting people to her presentation? She was already pretty anxious about it. The last thing she needed was more witnesses.

  She reached the front desk and Lisa, the receptionist, greeted her with a wave. She was wearing a "Bigfoot Doesn't Believe In You Either" t-shirt and a big, broad smile lit her face.

  "I got your email," she exclaimed. "Thanks. You're a lifesaver."

  "It worked then? Good." Mercury retrograde was always a tricky proposition in the twenty-first century because most people found it difficult, if not impossible, to avoid technology for a couple of weeks.

  "Yes, Kat gave me this." Lisa showed off the necklace around her neck. It was made of silver wires in a complicated braided pattern with pieces of quartz and obsidian scattered throughout. "She said it would harmonize the Mercurian energy." She beamed at Luanne. "So far, so good."

  "Excellent. Let me know if you have any other problems." She made a mental note to talk to Kat about the necklace. Everyone had issues with Mercury retrograde. If bits of quartz and obsidian fixed it, she would have to ask Kat to write a guest post about it.

  "Sure will." Lisa glanced at Luanne's bag. "Are you heading home? My shift is done, and I'd be happy to give you a ride."

  Luanne considered the offer. Walking to town would be a pain. Riding with Lisa on her Kawasaki motorcycle would be risking life and limb.

  "Actually, I'm going to the bakery," Luanne corrected. "But I would really appreciate a lift."

  Thanks to her talent, she knew she'd make it out alive.

  Lisa grinned. "Twist my arm, will you? I guess I'm going to have to get a bag of cookies then." She grabbed her knapsack.

  "I'll meet you in front."

  ***

  One harrowing motorcycle ride later, Luanne was in the bakery, holding a cup of Abominable Snowman Wake-Me-Up coffee.

  "Good luck with the presentation," Patricia, the bakery owner, said. "I'm really looking forward to it."

  "You are?" Luanne asked, handing over her debit card.

  Patricia nodded, running the card through. "Both the fire department and PRoVE are recommending that people show up. The Sheriff is also going to speak."

  "I didn't know that." Luanne said, accepting her card back with a sinking heart. "Everyone's going?"

  "Yep." Patricia laughed as she caught sight of Luanne's expression. "Don't worry. You'll do great."

  "Thanks," Luanne said weakly.

  She left, sipping her coffee, and trying to process what she'd just learned. Her little chat on fraudulent fortunetelling would not be a nerdy little gathering like her previous presentations. The whole town would be there. Sean was apparently using this gathering as a way to warn the local businesses and tourists to remain vigilant.

  He just hadn't bothered to inform her. Jerk.

  She grabbed her phone and rang him up.

  He picked up immediately. "Don't worry," he said. "You'll be fine."

  "First, don't steal my schtick," she exclaimed angrily. "I'm the fortuneteller, remember? Second, why are you using my talk as a Banshee Creek public service announcement. Third, why didn't you warn me?"

  "I haven't had time," he explained. "It's been hectic here with the feds. Just do your presentation like you planned, and I'll do the PSA at the end. Don't worry about it." He paused. "Sorry, I gotta go. I have bank documents coming in."

  Luanne stared at her phone. Bank documents? Feds? What was going on?

  Bereft of answers, she drank her coffee and headed for the library.

  She had a presentation to give.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  "SO THAT'S the famous Luanne LaRue." FinCEN Agent Gina Morelli stared at the podium thoughtfully. "I thought she'd be taller."

  Sean looked up, taking in how Luanne's loose hair and dangling earrings contrasted with the tailored red jacket she was wearing. The whole ensemble screamed "bohemian fortune teller trying to look professional."

  Well, at least she tried.

  "She's doing a good job." Agent Morelli noted. "I liked that Houdini slide. I didn't know he went around debunking scammers."

  Agent Morelli and her partner, Agent William Chung, were dressed in dark suits and white shirts, an ensemble that pretty much identified them as federal agents. However, not one Banshee Creek resident had stood up and shouted "Men in Black," which was a testament to the quality of Luanne's presentation. Everyone's gaze was riveted on her slides.

  "It's a lot more interesting than accounting fraud," Agent Chung noted. "Not as many spreadsheets."

  Luanne was now demonstrating how Victorian mediums faked communications from the beyond using castanet-like contraptions, clothespins, and even their own knuckles. Her current slide featured a period drawing of a Victorian lady revealing a wooden garter with a clicking mechanism wrapped around her shapely leg.

  Yep, definitely more interesting that a spreadsheet.

  "I don't know," Morelli replied. "I would love to see some of her financial statement analysis. They say that she nailed every single one of her stock picks."

  Her partner laughed. "In that case, I suggest you do it from your own trading account. Whatever you do, don't hand over any cash."

  "Copy that," Morelli replied with a small smile.

  Luanne went on to describe the history of the planchette, all the way from the Oracle of Delphi to current EVP recorders and ghost boxes. As she discussed each device, she explained how it could be manipulated to provide false positive results.

  Sean scanned the crowd. "Our guy's here."

  Morelli nodded. "I'm not worried. He won't miss the meet-up tonight. According to his profile, it's the most important night of his life."

  "I'd like to check the setup his group has at the motel." Her partner glanced at his smartphone. "We can check it quickly while everyone's here."

  Another nod from Morelli. "Excellent idea. Let's do that while they're distracted."

  The ag
ents left the library quietly.

  Sean aimed a surreptitious glance at their quarry. Larry looked perfectly at ease as he listened to Luanne's presentation. She was now discussing Ponzi schemes and the Lucky Ghost flyers were projected on the screen.

  Larry's calm, even slightly bored, expression didn't change.

  Luanne wrapped up her presentation by sharing her personal experience on Wall Street. She talked about how people gained your trust and even recruited you to work for the scheme. She described about how the scheme's leader encouraged victims to become personally invested in the fraud, and how people would defend the mastermind even after the fraud was discovered.

  It was a brave performance and it took its toll. By the time she was done, her face was tight and drawn.

  She wrapped up her presentation and Cassie Jones, PRoVE's resident folklorist, gave her a hug. Luanne sat down behind the table and Cassie grabbed the microphone.

  "Mankind has always been fascinated by the unknown," Cassie said. "This fascination continues, and lives on despite," she paused, "maybe even because, of technological advances."

  She talked about Jung and Joseph Campbell and myths. She talked about man's search for personal purpose and self-actualization. She explained about how these things don't necessarily look like mainstream society would expect them to. Some people needed more.

  It was a smart strategy. She validated her audience's hobby and told them they were smart enough to detect the frauds. The crowd clapped when she finished.

  Caine took Cassie's place behind the podium. The PRoVE leader was a fantastic speaker, with a deep baritone that commanded respect. He spoke about the difference between paying for entertainment or self-actualization and getting swindled. His talk had a Scooby-Doo theme and multiple head shots of a skeptical Velma Dinkley lit up the screen. His examples were good and, as a true believer, he didn't talk down to the crowd.

  "A lot of people think we're gullible," he said. "And they will try to take advantage of us. We must be aware of that, and use our discretion."

  He clicked through his slides, listing several contemporary scams. Sean looked on admiringly. The PRoVE guys had done a lot of research. He was in law enforcement and he hadn't known about most of these cases.