by A. M. King
Chapter 6
That night Febe got on her laptop computer in the living room, curled up by the fireplace. The family gathered around to watch the news on the twenty-hour news station.
“You sure it’s a good idea to go to the police station tomorrow to see the phone?” Janvier asked Febe.
“I have no choice. I might be able to see the phone’s last moments and Jonathan’s last moments.”
Janvier shrugged.
“Jonathan told me he came to see me, but he was also in town to see someone else. He thinks he may or may not have come to town with someone else.”
“Oh really now?” Janvier said sarcastically.
“Right, let’s see what they’ve got on the murder,” she whispered to herself, half-ignoring her sister’s tone. “Jonathan always kept notes on his laptop at his condo. I wonder if he keyed in who he was planning to see.”
“Wouldn’t the cops have already searched his condo?”
“Yes, but if they don’t have the password to his computer, how will they know what’s on it? And they most likely wouldn’t touch everything since he hasn’t been found dead yet.”
“True.”
Febe started with a simple Google search.
“Looks like he finally made the news,” Janvier said.
“Advertising executive missing, feared dead. Cell phone found in Blackshore Bay,” Febe murmured to herself reading the headline on the TV screen when she looked up from her computer.
She felt squeamish thinking of him lying somewhere murdered.
Just to think the other day they were engaged and she’d spent so much time with him at his condo. Until that awful day when she surprised him on his birthday only to find him in bed with her boss.
“Okay, enough thinking about the past Febe,” she whispered to herself. “The past is dead and gone.”
“Yeah, and so is your ex,” Ebony, her Bombay black cat, said as she yawned in her kitty basket by the fireplace.
Okay, Febe was so not used to her cat speaking to her. Even though it had been a few weeks since she discovered her furry feline could actually understand every word she spoke and that she was a Summer Witch. That was the name of her bloodline and witch tree, according to the Council of Witches and her teachings from Madam Techer. She was learning a lot about herself that she never knew before.
“Ebony, that’s not nice,” Febe said.
“Why not? She’s got a point. He’s dead and gone. Why are you even helping him?” Aunt Vanity said as she admired herself in her vanity mirror. The sisters were all gathered in the grand living room for family time along with Ebony and her sister, Janvier. It was a tradition that their mother had kept up before her own passing.
Family time is special time and should not be forgotten in this busy, chaotic world we live in, was Mom’s motto.
“Don’t you see?” Janvier said, “The guy’s stuck in the middle zone. He’s unable to get past to the next level unless Febe helps him.”
“I don’t see why Febe has to be the one to help him,” Aunt Vanity said.
“Because our wonderful niece here sent him a threatening text message saying she was going to kill him, the cops now have her under surveillance,” Aunt Trixie said.
“I’m not exactly under surveillance, Auntie,” Febe said.
“Well, you’re not exactly in the clear either. Remember the sergeant said not to go anywhere.”
“And I don’t intend to. Except back to Toronto.”
“Toronto? Are you crazy?”
“No. I’m not crazy, I’m just curious. I need to find out what happened to him. To see if I can find some clues as to who else he was coming to see. He told me he might have come to see someone else in town. It would be in his appointment calendar.”
“And you thought he was coming here just to see you. Told you he’s a con. Besides, doesn’t he know who might have bumped him off?” Aunt Vanity asked.
“No, silly. That’s why he can’t cross over. There’s no closure. No justice. He needs to know what happened to him,” Aunt Trixie said.
“Okay, shh. I’m trying to think,” Febe said, studying the computer screen.
“Why on earth do you need it to be quiet to think?” Aunt Vanity said.
Febe playfully rolled her eyes. She’d forgotten what it was like to be back home in the small town—with quirky relatives.
People hardly went out except to their family room. Blackshore Bay was a quaint small town on the coast of Georgian Bay up north near cottage country. A town filled with many older houses built during the Victorian era. It attracted many tourists for many reasons including because many psychics set up readings and there were rumors about the last witch to be burned at the stake in the 1800s. Some said the town was bewitched, but little did they know that in some ways it was.
In a good way, of course. The few witches left, including the witches in Febe’s family used their energies to protect the town from demons entering and corrupting the citizens as they did in the larger cities.
“It only says here that his cell phone was found,” Febe said, reading from the screen.
“Yes, but it doesn’t give any more clues as to how.”
“Are you two ladies behaving yourselves?” Aunt Eartha walked into the living room with a tray of warm, gourmet chocolate chip cookies she’d just baked.
“Mmm, they smell delicious.”
“Thank you,” she said laying down the tray in the center of the table. Everyone grabbed a cookie.
The taste was rich and creamy, the way she always made them. Janvier, who was helping her out in the kitchen, came in with a tray of tea and other biscuits.
Febe really had to get used to this. She felt as if she were in a cozy dormitory where everyone hung out in the cool lounge.
“Have you found anything else out?” Aunt Eartha asked concerned after she grabbed a seat on the sofa and picked up her knitting.
“Well, not really. Only that his cell phone was found. He doesn’t seem to know what happened to him.”
“That doesn’t help.” Aunt Vanity added her little comment.
“So he was part of some secret force investigating paranormal activities,” Aunt Eartha said.
“Yep. Seems so.”
“And his own agency doesn’t know what happened to him, either?”
“Doesn’t look that way.” Febe typed away on her computer and tried to search for the agency that he spoke of.
“If you’re searching for the agency, you might not find too much information online,” Jonathan said.
Febe nearly jumped out of her skin. “Do you have to appear like that without warning?” she said.
“Sorry. I can’t help it. I’m not sure how to control myself.”
“As in life...as in death,” Aunt Vanity added, admiring herself in the mirror.
“Aunt Vanity!”
“I have to agree with my sister for a change,” Aunt Trixie added, sipping her tea while munching on a cookie. “By the way, I added a little spell so that I can now hear the toad as well as see his shapeless form. And Vanity has a point. He couldn’t control himself around the women, could he? Not to mention on the job. He wasn’t the sharpest tool in the cabinet, was he? You were always doing his work for him at the ad agency, too, weren’t you? Now he wants you to do all his work for him to figure out who bumped him off.”
“I can hear you,” Jonathan said, defensively.
“And I can hear you, too, darling,” Aunt Trixie grinned.
“Okay, family. Let’s all be nice, huh?” Febe felt heat climb to her cheeks. Her family could be brutal when they wanted to be. Or at least when any one of them was attacked by an outsider. They clearly hadn’t forgiven Jonathan for breaking her heart. It didn’t matter that she’d told them how he was part of an undercover agency investigating her former boss.
“He’s here to get my help and I need his help, too,” Febe continued. “I need to clear my name before the police try to build a case against me, rememb
er? I’m the only one that had some sort of motive to...to follow through on my idle threat,” she said for lack of a better word.
“Well, that’ll teach you to make idle threats. Never say anything you’re not going to follow through on.”
“I would never really hurt anyone,” Febe protested.
“We know, dear.” Aunt Eartha came to her defense.
Jonathan grabbed a seat beside Febe. He was clearly afraid of her aunties.
“Right, so what do you have so far?” Jonathan asked, trying to change the subject.
“You were at your apartment prior to coming to Blackshore Bay, right?”
“Right.”
“Were you home alone?”
“Home alone?”
“Yes, dear. Were you up to your old shenanigans or were you being a good boy?” Aunt Trixie added.
“That’s not what I meant,” Febe clarified, casting a stern look at her auntie.
“I was home alone. At least I think I was.”
“Try to remember, Jonathan. It’s really important.”
He rubbed his forehead as if feeling a headache coming on. “Let’s see. I was waiting for a delivery.”
“A delivery? What kind of delivery?”
“I don’t know. I think maybe pizza or something. I usually order out on weeknights.”
Febe switched screens on the computer and opened up her word processing software. She then began to type in some notes.
Ordering Pizza or other food.
Must find the name of the restaurant.
“Right. Got it. What else were you doing? Were you expecting company?”
“You know something. Come to think of it I was. I was supposed to be meeting someone. Yeah, that’s it. I was supposed to be meeting someone in my apartment and I ordered food for the both of us.”
Febe swallowed hard. She really didn’t want to know if he was ordering food for another woman. “Right, um...so you were ordering for two.”
She remembered when he used to order dinner in for the two of them at his condo apartment. They would snuggle by the electrical wall fireplace and watch the flat screen TV and just have a romantic evening.
A sick, sinking feeling entered her tummy. Did she really want to get into this now? Did she really want to investigate the circumstances surrounding his murder?
Then she reminded herself that she had no choice. She was probably a prime suspect in the case thanks to her thoughtless text message.
Think before you click.
That was the motto that everyone should be following. Anything you post, text, or send into cyberspace was recorded for all eternity and could be pulled up again, hacked and used against you if you weren’t careful.
Sheesh. When would she ever learn?
She’d gotten so upset with him over seeing how he’d cheated on her. The heat of the moment had gotten the best of her and she’d texted something she shouldn’t have.
Crap.
But who in a million years would have known that he’d actually end up murdered soon after?
Hindsight was always twenty-twenty, wasn’t it? Foresight was another matter. She wished now she’d been given that gift of being able to foresee the future like some witches.
She hoped her aunties or her sister or her black cat for that matter couldn’t pick up on her energies right then, because her emotions were all over the place.
She thought about what could have possibly happened to Jonathan. Who could have possibly wanted him dead and why? He was a part time investigator. Did anyone at the ad agency already know that? Someone must have known. Did he find out too much?
Then her mind drifted back to sweet and sexy Trey for some reason. Goodness, she really needed to shift him out of her thoughts. Why, oh, why was her energies focused on him all of a sudden?
“You okay, sis?” Janvier said, noticing her gaze.
“Oh, um...yes, I’m good thanks.”
Aunt Trixie gave a sly grin. “She’s probably thinking about that hot cop. What’s his name? Trey,” she said emphasizing his name sensuously, teasing Febe.
“Aunt Trixie,” Febe rolled her eyes. “Men are enough trouble, thank you. Look what my ex got me into?”
“Hmm-mmm. But not Trey. He seems all right. You know he asked her out on a date,” Aunt Trixie said turning to her sisters.
“He did?” Aunt Vanity said.
“He did not. Not exactly,” Febe said.
“Then what exactly?” Aunt Vanity seemed excited as she pulled herself away from her compact mirror.
“He just asked if I’d like to go see a baseball game.”
“Hmm,” Aunt Vanity said.
“You want me to make a love potion for you?” Aunt Trixie jumped in excitedly. “We need to give him a little help since there’s a spark there, you know. I think I still have some Lavender. Oh, and geranium oil which is perfect to put you in a good mood ...”
“Ah, geranium,” Aunt Vanity chimed in. “One of my favorites, that rosy-sweet, lemon and mint smell. It’s like a tonic and sedative on the nervous system...but you know what would be even better? Ylang-Ylang. It’s mostly grown in Madagascar. It’s a powerful flower. It’s sweet, potent and has a distinct floral scent like hyacinth or narcissus. The scent is more aromatic, hypnotic and relaxing. It increases sensuality and lifts negative moods. It effects the emotions and mind in a more...”
“No!” Febe raised her voice unintentionally. “I’m sorry, Aunties, it’s just that, well, I don’t believe in influencing people like that.”
“You mean you don’t believe in witchcraft? Are you ashamed of your heritage, child?”
“I didn’t say that. I just...thought one of the principles in practicing magic is to leave well alone.”
Aunt Trixie looked aghast and then rolled her eyes. She pursed her lips and placed her hands on her hips. “Dear child, there is no such principle called leave well alone.”
“But there is a principle about doing no harm, right?”
“What harm is there? The guy obviously likes you, and you obviously like him too. He just needs a little help, that’s all.”
“No, Auntie. I disagree. Love is more powerful than magic. True love doesn’t need any help.”
“Oh, so you admit to falling in love with him then?” Aunt Trixie gave a wicked grin.
Crap.
“No, I didn’t say that either,” Febe said.
They sensed her energies surrounding her feelings for Detective Trey. Of course, they were witches. They could read energies like people read books. Febe really must be giving off some sort of longing energy around Detective Trey, not to mention her thoughts were on him all the time now.
Still, it was her decision. She didn’t want to rush into things or heaven forbid, make a complete fool of herself—again. After what happened to her going-somewhere relationship with Jonathan, she didn’t think she had the heart to trust another man again. Heck, she couldn’t trust herself and her own good sense around them. How could she not have seen through Jonathan? Speaking of irony, right now, she could actually see through him, though not in the psychological sense.
Febe playfully rolled her eyes. “I don’t want you to help Trey fall in love with me. Whatever he does should be one hundred percent his own doing. I want everything to be natural between us.”
“Aha. So you do admit you have feelings for him.” A wide victory grin touched her auntie’s lips.
Double crap.
“No. I didn’t say that.” Febe drew in a deep breath and tried to calm her fast beating heart. The truth was, she really did feel some sort of chemistry between her and Trey but she really wanted to take it slow. Besides, right now if she didn’t figure out who killed her ex-fiancé, fingers might point back to Febe and that would not be a good thing. She certainly couldn’t be seeing a cop now, could she?
“All right, Aunties, let’s get back on topic. We need to discuss possible suspects in the potential murder case.”
“Oh, how boring,” A
unt Vanity yawned and proceeded to fix her eyebrows in her small vanity mirror again.
Febe gave them a really-now look. “Aunties, please. You promised to help Jonathan out here.”
“What? We never promised to help that cheating scoundrel do anything. We’re only helping you get out of being a suspect.”
“I can hear you, you know,” Jonathan said as he reappeared in the living room again, this time by the door.
“Aunt Trixie!”
“Sorry dear. Yes, let’s look at a possible list of other suspects.”
“I’m not a suspect Aunt Trixie.”
“Not yet, my dear, but you could be soon. Don’t you think that sergeant isn’t trying to build a case against you.”
Febe frowned. “Jonathan when did you get here?”
“I just appeared. I only heard the last part,” he said, giving Aunt Trixie a funny, disapproving look.
“I have to get used to you just popping up now and then.”
“Sorry, Febe, it’s not something I can help. It’s weird really. I just sort of appear now and then.”
“You’re transitioning but you’re not stable because you don’t know what happened to you and your departure was abrupt.”
“I see.”
“And we need to find out who killed you and make sure that our dear Febe is not pinned down for the crime she did not commit,” Aunt Trixie said.
Aunt Trixie had a point. Febe had no idea what Sergeant Heart was thinking. After all, she’d sent that horrible text to Jonathan saying she could kill him and now he ended up missing, feared dead, and that was the last text from her, the jilted ex-fiancée.
Think before you click.
Think before you click.
She realized how that looked now. All she wanted to do was to get on with her life. She wouldn’t hurt a fly. And that was true, she was always careful when a fly buzzed around her. She wouldn’t dream of swatting it. Now she knew it could be one of her dead ancestors, she thought with humor.
“I’m glad you’re back. Do you have any idea who could have done this?”
“Not a clue. I mean I ordered food.”
