by A. M. King
It was Jonathan’s phone all right. They’d taken so many selfies together on it.
Crap.
She just realized: they’d taken a lot of selfies on it. She wondered what type of images were on there. Luckily, they had their clothes on the whole time. At least she hoped so. She hoped he hadn’t done anything stupid like take a selfie with her while she was asleep.
That creep. He’d better not have.
Sergeant Heart handed Febe the clear plastic bag with the phone inside it. “You can look for one minute. Do. Not. Touch. That. Phone. Got it?”
His tone was icy and hard like steel.
“Of course, sir.”
“Sergeant, you’re needed at the front desk,” a young officer came in and asked the Sergeant to come to the front.
“I’ll just be a minute,” Sergeant Heart told her. “You’ve got one minute.”
“Right. Thank you.”
After he left, she let out a deep breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
“Right now, I’ve just got a minute. I need to use spell number 514. What was it again?” she whispered to herself.
She then gazed at the cell phone and concentrated her energies so that the phone could expose what happened during the last moments before separation from its owner. She drew in a deep breath and whispered, “Commanderio elaborate!”
Just then the phone vibrated.
Febe was filled with excitement.
Then...
It vanished.
Her eyes widened in shock.
Crap.
She said elaborate, not evaporate.
What had she done?
She was dead. She was so dead and it wasn’t even funny.
How was she going to explain to the Sergeant what happened? The phone was freaking missing. The evidence bag was empty. She looked around nervously. Where the heck did it go? She didn’t know the spell to undo what she’d done.
Crap! The undo spell should have been the first spell she learned. What on earth possessed her to attempt a spell she’d never used before?
That was probably why Madam Techer advised not to use spells until fully licensed as a witch. Now she may never get her license. Or worse. She may end up being charged with tampering with or stealing evidence.
She then heard the heavy footsteps of Sergeant Heart coming back to this office.
She was so dead now.
Chapter 8
Moments later, Sergeant Heart had stormed back into this office.
“That darn Mayor,” he said, slamming his folder on the desk.
Good thing he hadn’t noticed the missing cell phone. At least not yet.
“What’s wrong, Sergeant?”
“Oh, it’s nothing. Mayor Francis is telling us how to run our business. I told him to keep out of our affairs.”
“But the mayor’s your boss, isn’t he?”
“Yes, technically. But he doesn’t know anything about running a police force. We need more staff and he’s telling us to cut staff because of funding. Just got this crazy memo delivered to us...” He paused as if realizing what he was doing.
Febe’s heart pounded hard in her chest smashing against her ribcage. Did he notice the missing cell phone yet?
She was silently wishing for it to reappear, hoping the power of her wish-craft would come through for her. Why, oh why, did it only work at random times?
Being a witch was not too much fun for her right now. This magic thing really needed to be controlled or it could do more harm than good.
“Why am I even telling you this?” he said, growling. Clearly, he wasn’t in a very good mood.
“I guess I’m just easy to talk with. You know people often tell me that.”
He then said. “Are you finished with the...” His eyes widened in shock. “Where’s the evidence bag with the phone?”
“Oh, you know how us psychics work. We need to feel the material to get some energy from it.” She swallowed hard as she held the bag behind her back. The empty bag.
He eyed her suspiciously. “I don’t know why I trusted my nephew to let you in here. We’ve used psychics before and I appreciate that you helped us in solving the murder of Darla Gosnik, but...” He paused. “I think you can let it rest now. Please leave the bag on the table.”
“Um...”
She wished harder for the phone to return to its original place. If he saw that the bag was empty. He’d arrest her for sure. Not to mention what he might say to his nephew. They were supposed to go out on a date, sort of. Wouldn’t that ruin things between them? Never mind that, she’d never be allowed near the station again. She really needed to find out who killed Jonathan and fast.
Darn this spell! It must be the Wi-Fi connection in the old precinct. Maybe witches did need a good Wi-Fi connection to channel their energies and practice magic on that frequency.
“Ms. Summer, I’m waiting. Could you please put the phone back on the table?” His tone was stern.
“Um...Sure.”
Just then the cell phone reappeared. In the wrong place!
Sergeant Heart flinched when the phone appeared in his breast pocket. “What the—!” he cried out.
He looked stunned and took it out. His jaw fell open.
Oh, no. She was busted. Think, Febe. Think.
“Um. You know one of my many talents is magic. I learned that while working for um...the circus while in high school.”
“You worked for the circus?” He asked dubiously, sliding the phone out and looking at it astonished.
“Um, yes. Sort of. I learned a lot from a magician.”
“So you just thought you’d practice your magician’s trick now?” He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
Okay, she was so over now.
“Well, I just thought we could all use a little cheer.”
“Ms. Summer, your ex-fiancé is missing, feared dead and Mayor Francis wants to cut an already short-staffed police force. You find something to cheer about in that?”
Well, when you put it that way...
“Oh, no. I just meant that, being stressed isn’t going to help. Better to inject a little humor in the day when you can, you know.”
He continued to scrutinize her, still stunned at how the phone just appeared in his pocket.
Rule number something, she couldn’t remember, but witches weren’t allowed to let others see their magic. Not like that anyway. She was so not going to get her witching license at this rate. And that meant hell for the Summer family because they needed as many fully licensed witches in their blood family to fight the evil hunter who was coming to eliminate them.
Oh, what had she done?
Chapter 9
Moments later, the Sergeant’s office phone rang and he picked it up to answer it. Febe then felt a strange sensation come around her. The realm was telling her something, but what?
She saw an image flash across her mind. It was an image of Jonathan’s cell phone thrown on the ground and the wheels of a car speeding off. It was a dark car but that was all she could tell.
What did this mean?
Her heart leaped in her chest. Was she closer to finding out the truth? Had her plan and her little magic worked after all?
“I’ll be off now,” she said, leaving the sergeant, who still looked a bit unsettled after what had happened. She was going to have to ask Madam Techer someday about a spell that could erase a person’s memory for five minutes so they don’t remember seeing what they thought they saw. All to protect them, of course.
The sergeant gave her a stern look before waving her on and getting back to his phone call.
She walked out of the office, thankful he was engaged in what looked like an important conversation. Maybe he would forget what just happened.
Talk about a close call. She could not believe Jonathan’s cell phone just popped into his breast jacket. Now she didn’t know what to think of her magical abilities. No wonder the Council of Witches discouraged witches from practicing magic w
ithout a license.
Once she was out of the police station, she made her way over to the Blackshore Bay Memorial Park. It was as if she was being directed there.
She walked up a stone pathway leading to the area with all the trees. Her footsteps crunched on the fallen branches below her feet.
It was a heavily wooded area in Blackshore Bay but hikers and tourists often frequented it.
“Now, let me see,” Febe said, not sure of what she was supposed to be looking for. She wondered if Jonathan’s kidnapper went to the park. Yes, kidnapper. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense that Jonathan must have been brought to Blackshore Bay. Maybe he had planned to visit, but Febe had a feeling something happened in his condo and the would-be kidnapper or killer brought his body to town to cover up the location of the foul play.
Febe felt a strange coolness on her skin and looked around. She thought she was alone in the wooded area, but there was someone hiding behind the trees.
“Who’s there?” she called out boldly, ready to use any magic she had available if necessary, even if there was the off chance it might not work the way she’d intended.
Just then a full-figured older man walked out from behind the tree. He had a leash and a cute little border collie. He also had a pipe hanging from the corner of his lips. He wore a cap and looked as if he might be going hunting rather than walking his dog.
“Didn’t mean to startle you,” he said in a rough tone. “Just letting my little guy do his business.” He narrowed his eyes at her as if wondering what she could be doing in the forest at that time.
Strange.
“Oh, Mr. Dawes, I had no idea...I didn’t see you there,” she said, stunned. It was their neighbor down the street. The one who often spied on them, according to Aunt Trixie.
He peered at her through his spectacles and said nothing else. When his border collie finished relieving himself, Mr. Dawes went on his way, walking with a slight limp, she noticed.
If she didn’t know better, she would have thought that he’d been watching her for a while. She thought about the note she’d found on their porch the other day. She felt a strange feeling whirl around her. What was that feeling?
Be careful Febe, the words whispered to her mind.
Was he a follower of the evil hunter?
There was something off about him, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.
Focus, Febe. Focus.
Febe continued to walk through the wooded area looking for clues. Before long, she stumbled on something beneath some branches and leaves. It was a shoe.
Her heart pounded hard in her chest.
Was it Jonathan’s shoe? But this area was far from the bar and grill where he might have been. He said he’d heard the sound of laughter and music and he later told her the scent of grilled food. His cell phone was found a mile away.
How could this be?
Then...
She saw a figure on the ground. It was a body.
It was Jonathan’s body.
Febe gasped.
Chapter 10
Later that afternoon, after the Blackshore Bay Coroner’s Office removed Jonathan’s body from the Memorial Park, Febe sat in Trey’s cruiser, dazed. He’d given her a bottle of water. Her mouth felt dry and her body was numb with shock. She knew that Jonathan had been murdered, she’d sensed it, but seeing his body was a whole different level of surprise. It really hit her then.
Talk about an unexpected finding. She knew she felt something from the cell phone and knew she should head over to the park, but she had no idea Jonathan’s body would be there.
Still, Febe was glad Jonathan could finally have more closure—until the killer responsible was brought to justice, of course.
“I’m so sorry you had to find him like that. Are you going to be okay?” Detective Trey asked Febe as she hugged the bottle of water to her chest.
“I’ll be fine, really.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.” Her voice was a little quieter than she’d expected. Even though Jonathan had cheated on her, it really sucked to see him crushed like that and well, dead.
“We’re really thankful you were able to help us locate your ex-fiancé’s body. Guess you were able to pick up some vibe from the phone after all. We’ve used psychics before but we’ve never seen anything like this before.”
“Well, as I said to Sergeant Heart, I had no idea his body would be here. I just knew to come here. Your uncle seemed to think I had something to do with his body being here,” she added, “judging by the way he interrogated me.”
“Listen, it’s just formality that he had to question you like that.”
And what a session that had been.
“I totally understand.”
“Looks like a hit and run judging by the bruises on him,” the sergeant said as he walked up to Trey’s open car window. He stood outside the cruiser with a notepad and a muffin.
“That was some home run hit,” Febe said, leaning over from the passenger side. “This is quite a distance from where Jonathan’s cell phone was found. There are no streets around here, sergeant. It’s practically a forest.”
The sergeant replied, “It looks as if he’d been dragged here by wolves.” He took another bite of his muffin.
“Wolves?” Febe said.
“We see all kinds of wildlife around here,” he said between bites. “The province is home to some thousands of grey wolves. Not unusual to find some in the area. You’d be surprised.”
She swallowed hard. “I am.”
Her witch senses were telling her that something happened to Jonathan in Toronto and he was taken here to make it look like a hit and run. She couldn’t prove it, she could only sense it.
When reporters showed up on the scene, Febe asked Trey if she could leave now. The police had already spent an hour questioning her. She’d told them she’d seen her neighbor in the area. They didn’t think too much of it. Most people in the town knew Mr. Dawes as a harmless older man who was more like a neighborhood watchman. But Febe would be doing some of her own, watching in the neighborhood. She had a funny feeling about Mr. Dawes. She didn’t know what exactly, but she just did.
Chapter 11
Later that evening, Febe had given her aunties the run down, though they’d heard most of it on the local news about the body of a Toronto ad executive being found in the park. They’d spent the evening eating ice cream and comforting Febe, knowing that it must have been hard to find her ex-fiancé like that. Well, Aunt Eartha was comforting. Aunties Trixie and Vanity were up to their usual shenanigans. Janvier was supportive but wasn’t overly sympathetic about Jonathan’s passing.
Which brought her to another question.
Where was Jonathan right now?
She didn’t see him, surprisingly enough, which bothered her like crazy.
What did this mean? Where was he?
He couldn’t have crossed over yet. She still hadn’t found his killer yet.
Shouldn’t he be thrilled that his body had now been found? Maybe he was at the morgue going over a few things. She could picture him observing his own body, making sure his hair was all right. He was always so obsessed with his hair and his attire. He often told her he wouldn’t be caught dead in some outfits or with his hair disheveled. Maybe, he wasn’t thrilled with what he saw at the morgue. Either way, she wished she could speak with him now.
Later that night, Febe tossed and turned in her bed. She was having a dream. Or a nightmare. She was back in Jonathan’s apartment. It seemed so real. Only it wasn’t, it was a dream. Because she knew she wasn’t really there now. How weird was that?
She was floating in the air, not walking on the hardwood laminate floor of the condo apartment. She slowly drifted from room to room as if lost.
Then suddenly, the condo got smaller. The walls started to slowly draw in towards her. She screamed but her voice wasn’t heard.
Then, the white walls started to bleed. But it wasn’t r
ed. The colors on the walls turned to yellow. The beautiful shiny hardwood floor turned to bright yellow, too. Then his furniture morphed to yellow. Until...
Everything in the room was yellow. When she looked at her hand, she too was turning yellow. Again, she opened her mouth to scream out, but no sound came out. The walls were closing in on her.
“Help!” Febe screamed out and this time, she heard her own voice.
She sat up on the bed, sweating. Her mouth felt dry, her pulse pounded in her veins.
Crap. It seemed so real.
“You okay, kiddo?” Ebony crawled on her bed and sat beside her. Well, at least Ebony wasn’t cussing her out again for waking her up. The last thing she needed right now was for her kitty cat to be bawling her out after her creepy nightmare.
“Oh, thank God! It was only a dream,” Febe said.
“You mean a nightmare, girl. I was watching that REM going on. It was wild. I wanted to wake you but I didn’t want to risk hurting you.”
“REM?”
“Rapid eye movement.”
“Oh, right. Of course. I wasn’t paying attention.” She took in a deep breath. She reached over to her side table to grab a bottle of water that she kept there in case she woke up in the night with a dry throat and was too lazy to go bumping into walls to get to the kitchen.
She took a deep swig from the bottle and rinsed her pallet.
“Just what was that about?” Ebony asked, stretching out her paws on the bed and yawning.
“Yellow.”
“Excuse me? Who you calling yellow? You’re the one that was acting like a fraidy cat in your sleep.”
“No, no. I mean the color yellow. Everything was yellow in the dream. What could that possibly mean?”
“You just saw yellow?” Ebony asked dubiously.
“I was back in Jonathan’s apartment and...”
“Yeah, yeah. That would explain it. That guy’s as yellow as the tail on his butt.”
