A Vision in Velvet: A Witchcraft Mystery

by Juliet Blackwell

  “A beer, dude,” said Conrad. “Any flavor.”

  “We can all go,” said Maya.

  “Nonsense,” Bronwyn said briskly. “In a situation like this, the fewer the better. And I have skills—I waitressed for years, remember? I could balance five drinks at a time back then. And Duke can do the pushing.”

  Bronwyn and Duke headed off in the general direction of the crowd, while Maya, Conrad, and I followed the signs to the frog exhibit.

  The exhibit was less crowded than the bar area, but not by much. Still, we had fun checking out the big, open areas, where all kinds of frogs hopped around on rocks and splashed in ponds and puddles. There were also huge glass enclosures, where rarer or more delicate specimens were displayed.

  “Dude,” Conrad said. “That’s a lot of frogs.”

  “Suppose there’s one here I could kiss and change into a prince?” asked Maya.

  “If there is, I’m sure Bronwyn will send him your way soon,” I said.

  “Check out that one. The bright orange ones have psychedelic properties,” said Maya, reading the exhibit brochure. “Listen to this, Conrad: See the little yellow-and-black frog over there? Apparently, it emits a certain chemical. If you lick its back, you’ll start tripping.”

  “Dude! No way.”

  “Way. Brochures don’t lie.”

  “Did you know that witches used to brew up hallucinogenic herbal concoctions?” I said. “According to some historians, that’s how they ‘flew.’”

  “So the whole riding broomsticks thing was only metaphorical?” Maya asked.

  “The result of pharmacological use and abuse,” I said. “Or so they say.”

  “Given the misery of the lives of a lot of women—witches or not—back then,” said Maya, “you can hardly blame them for indulging in a little escapism.”

  Conrad pointed out the horned toads, sitting almost motionless and blending in with the rocks and plants at the water’s edge. One large brownish one sat amid a number of ceramic toadstools. They made me think of the mushrooms at the base of Ms. Quercus. I knew mushrooms could spring up overnight, but could there be any significance to them appearing at the base of the tree?

  After a few minutes, I noticed a young man staring at us from across the pond. Dressed in a lab coat, he appeared to be one of the academy scientists, and I realized I had seen him on that nightmarish day in the park: He was one of Lance’s colleagues. His heavy-rimmed glasses, pale face, and buzz-cut dark hair suggested he had stepped out of a poster of a scientist from the early sixties.

  As I watched the man watching us, Lance Thornton walked up to him. Lance was a mess, with the same yellowish stains on his lab coat as the last time I’d seen him. As always, his eyes were large and unblinking. Poor fellow, I thought; what would it be like to go through life with one’s features arranged in a constant expression of astonishment? Rather similar to his research subjects, now that I thought of it. But surely that was a coincidence, rather like when dogs started looking like their owners.

  “Lance,” I called out with a wave. “Hello!”

  He shuffled toward us, trailed by his friend.

  “Oh, uh, hello again,” Lance mumbled. “This is my colleague, Kai Hiccum. He was at . . . the tree, too. You know. That time.”

  “Yes, I remember. I’m Lily. Nice to meet you,” I said.

  “Dude,” said Conrad, a few beats late, as usual. “Your name’s Kai? Awesome. I remember you from that day, under the tree. What a trip. Just call me the Con. And, Lance, my man, how you doing?”

  Kai was staring at Maya. Then, all of a sudden, he smiled. I hadn’t thought of him as handsome, but when he smiled, his whole face lit up.

  “Thank you so much for coming,” he said. “You don’t drink?”

  “Our friends are braving the line at the bar for us,” I said, glancing over to the sea of people milling about the concession area. “The cocktails are a big draw, it seems.”

  “I’ll go reconnoiter,” said Conrad, and disappeared into the crowd.

  Kai chuckled. “I have a bottle of scotch in my office, if I can tempt you . . . ? Unless you have your heart set on cocktails.”

  “Too strong for my blood,” said Maya with a definite shake of her head. “I’m more of a margarita gal.”

  “Yes, I could picture you on a beach somewhere, margarita in hand,” Kai said.

  Maya’s skin was a rich mocha brown, so it was hard to tell . . . but I could have sworn she was blushing.

  “What a great way to bring in the public to the museum,” I said.

  “Kai thought of it,” said Lance.

  “While I’m happy to take the credit for the idea, all I said was that we have families with kids coming in and out all day long—I swear, divorced dads are our bread and butter,” Kai explained. “But adults on their own? Not so much. So I suggested we stay open late one evening, serve alcohol, and watch the grown-ups turn out.”

  “I’d say your plan worked brilliantly,” I said. “Hey, since you’re the experts, could I ask you a question? I notice the mushrooms in the frog display. Why are toadstools associated with frogs?”

  Kai shrugged. “To tell you the truth, I think it’s just folklore. Though some mushrooms, like some frogs, have hallucinogenic properties. Maybe that’s why. In fact I wondered . . . When Lance and I came across that poor man under the tree, that was the first thing I thought of, that maybe he had ingested some mushrooms and was either high or had poisoned himself. Or both. Until I noticed the, um . . .”

  “Bullet holes,” said Lance helpfully.

  And with that our conversation stumbled to a halt. It occurred to me that Maya, Kai, Lance, and I might have been the least socially adept social group imaginable. Maya was capable of being charming and breezy around those with whom she was comfortable, but with men in general, it was a different story. And the two scientists were probably happier looking through a microscope than making small talk with strangers.

  The four of us were gazing awkwardly about in silence when Bronwyn breezed up, balancing cocktails in both hands. Duke and Conrad trailed behind her, also carrying drinks.

  “Order up!” Bronwyn announced, and after handing out the drinks, immediately started chatting up the scientists, putting everyone at ease. “I remember coming to the old Natural Sciences Museum with my daughter; we used to get lost on the way to the restroom every time.”

  “The new building is much better,” said Lance earnestly. “People rarely get lost. Though sometimes down in the basement . . .”

  “It’s a real rabbit’s warren down there,” affirmed Kai. “Our director disappeared for a few days before we realized he was gone.”

  Kai looked so serious I wasn’t sure if he was joking.

  “Oh, look, Nina’s here,” said Lance.

  I followed his gaze to see Hannah Woolsey, Bart’s niece. She was standing with the tall, pale woman I had seen at the tree—Nina, I presumed. And with them was the professor, Will Chambers.

  “Hey!” yelled Lance suddenly. Gone was the hapless, bumbling scientist. He looked outraged. “Don’t touch those frogs!”

  “Dude,” said Conrad, holding his hands up in surrender. “Sorry. Sign says right here you can touch these little dudes, just not the other ones.”

  As Lance marched over to the display, I noticed that the back of his lab coat was stained worse than the front. What on earth did he do in his lab?

  Lance yanked the sign down. “I don’t know who put this up. This is not a petting zoo.”

  “Sorry, dude,” Conrad said.

  An awkward silence descended on our group.

  “Um . . . I’m going to talk with Nina and Hannah,” I said.

  Bronwyn, Duke, Maya, and Conrad went to investigate the tree frog exhibit while I made my way across the crowded floor to the Woolsey sisters and the professor.

&
nbsp; Hannah’s eyes lit up in recognition. “Hey! You made it. How are you?”

  “I’m okay. Thanks. How are you?”

  “Great. Hey, you know Will, don’t you?”

  “Of course. Nice to see you here.”

  “Exciting, isn’t it?” said Will. He was clutching a martini, and I realized that he and Hannah, both singles of a certain age, fit right in here at Cocktails and Frogs. It was like a slightly nerdy dating service.

  “And this is my sister, Nina.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I said, noting that despite her pallid complexion, Nina was as tall and fit-looking as her sister. They were like Amazonian stock. I stood up straighter, feeling gremlinlike standing beside them. “Great exhibit.”

  “Thanks,” Nina replied. “I didn’t really have anything to do with it.”

  I looked around for their uncle. “Is Bart here?”

  “What, and take part in the real world?” said Nina in a snide tone of voice.

  “Nina . . .” Hannah warned. “Be nice.”

  Nina rolled her eyes.

  “I tried to get him to come,” said Will.

  “Uncle Bart doesn’t get out a lot,” explained Hannah with a shake of her head. “Though he told me he stopped by your shop. Could have knocked me over with a feather. He’s never come to see me at the Vivarium.”

  “Probably ’cause it’s creepy,” said Nina.

  “No creepier than all these amphibians,” said Hannah. “After all, frogs are slimy and even poisonous sometimes. People think snakes are slimy, but they really aren’t.”

  “Frogs are cute,” Nina said. “Snakes aren’t cute.”

  “I think they’re cute,” Hannah insisted.

  “I’m not surprised,” Nina said.

  Will met my eyes, and we shared a look. I had always wanted a sister, but occasionally witnessing these relationships gave me pause.

  “Lance mentioned that you’re an arboreal specialist,” I said to Nina.

  “That’s overstating the case. I actually work more with algae, but I’m a botanist, so I agreed to go out and look at that oak tree with Lance. For some reason he feels the need to save it.”

  “Is it salvageable?”

  She shook her head. “It’s rotten on the inside.”

  “I thought I saw new growth.”

  “There’s some, yes, but not enough to save such a massive specimen.”

  “I went up to the redwoods not long ago,” said Hannah, “and a lot of the biggest trees didn’t have anything at the core at all. They formed what looked like round rooms; only the bark was alive. You could even drive through some of them.”

  Nina nodded. “Some trees can lose their entire core to fire or disease and still thrive, it’s true. The redwoods are famous for it. But not California live oaks. They’re a different species entirely.”

  “So you recommended it be removed?” Will asked.

  “It isn’t up to me. The Parks Department makes those decisions,” said Nina. “I’m just a lowly scientist here at the academy. Lance was worried, so I told him I’d take a look, that’s all. If they were taking down a healthy specimen, I might try to intervene, but as it is . . .” She trailed off with a shrug and took a sip of her manhattan.

  “So . . . I saw you there, when Sebastian Crowley was found under the tree.”

  “You knew the stiff?” asked Nina.

  “Who’s this we’re talking about?” asked Will. “Or tell me if I’m doing that annoying thing now where I’m asking about someone everyone else knows. . . . I am, aren’t I? Never mind.”

  “Sebastian Crowley was an antiques dealer. Hannah sold something to him for Bart, and later he was found shot in Golden Gate Park.”

  “That’s awful,” said Will.

  “Poor Sebastian,” said Hannah.

  “Take a drink,” said Nina in a derisive tone. “You’ll get over it.”

  “You didn’t even know him,” said Hannah, clearly shaken. “How can you be so mean all the time?”

  “And you were, what, dating him?” said Nina. “That’ll be news to poor Will here.”

  Hannah shook her head, pressed her lips together, and looked around at the crowd.

  “Seriously, Hannah. It’s not like he was a good friend of yours. What was he, some lunatic friend of Uncle Bart’s? Did he promise to cure Bart’s love curse or something?”

  “He said he might be able to do something for Uncle Bart, yes,” said Hannah. “I know you don’t believe in it, and I don’t either, not really. But obviously Uncle Bart does, and I think people should stop being so nasty about it. I mean, some people believe in Santa Claus, but that doesn’t make them crazy.”

  “It does if they’re over the age of five,” murmured Nina.

  “There you are!” I heard Bronwyn’s voice and felt a wave of relief as the gang appeared: Bronwyn and Maya and Conrad and Duke. We might be a motley, quirky bunch, but at least we liked one another. I knew bickering did not necessarily mean the sisters didn’t love each other, but I found such exchanges exhausting.

  “How were the tree frogs?” I asked.

  “Lovely, really just splendid. Weren’t they, Maya?” Bronwyn said.

  “They’re so sweet-looking, even the ones that can kill you.” Maya smiled. “It really is a great exhibit. I can’t believe I never come here. I’m gonna invite my cousins’ kids so I have an excuse to come back.”

  “Kai would say you don’t need an excuse,” I said. “In fact, he might give you a private tour if you asked nicely.”

  “Cute,” said Maya.

  “You like Kai?” Nina said. “He’s single. Want me to set something up?”

  “No. No, no, no. No, thank you,” said Maya, shaking her head. “She’s kidding.”

  “Watch out, Nina,” said Hannah. “Someone might call you a romantic. And here I thought you didn’t believe in love.”

  “I don’t believe in love spells, much less curses. Anyway, Kai’s a good guy. Eccentric, but then aren’t we all? Scientists are weird, no two ways about that. I’m sure not exempt from that. Hey, Kai!” Nina yelled, showing surprisingly good pipes, and waved with her free hand.

  Maya looked daggers at me.

  The two men came over, Kai eager and Lance hapless, as usual. Truth to tell, after Lance’s outburst a few minutes ago, I was rethinking my assessment of him. Might the bumbling scientist bit be an act? I had sensed something was off about him from the start, but whether it was due to his social awkwardness or to something more sinister was hard to know.

  “Dudes, there they are,” said Conrad, slapping Lance on the back in a hearty hello. “That exhibit was really awesome, dude!”

  Lance yanked back from Conrad’s overly familiar gesture.

  “Dude, your lab coat’s all wet. You okay?”

  “Of course,” said Lance, then walked away so quickly he knocked over a potted palm.

  “That’s Lance for you,” Nina said with a sigh. “Mr. Charming. I tell you what, Kai. We are a pathetic bunch of losers when it comes to social interaction, aren’t we? We should form a club.”

  “We already have,” said Kai with a shy smile. “We’re the nerdy scientists, remember?”

  “Oh, right,” said Nina.

  I noticed Kai’s eyes slewed over toward Maya, who returned his smile.

  “Hey, I’m single,” said Will. “D’ya suppose the nerdy academics could join this club, too?”

  “Sure,” said Nina. “The more the merrier.”

  “Dudette,” Conrad whispered to me in a loud stage whisper. “Like, do men get hot flashes?”

  “Hot flashes?”

  “You know, the way women do when they’re, like, going through the ‘change’? My mom totally had that and now . . .”

  “Conrad, I’m not sure now’s the time to talk about—”


  “Dude . . . I feel sort of . . . funky.”

  Conrad crumpled and fell to the floor.

  Chapter 17

  His head knocked against the stone floor with a dull thud.

  “Conrad!” I cried, kneeling beside him. “Conrad? What’s wrong?”

  He opened his eyes, his gaze unfocused. I put one hand on his forehead: His skin was wet and clammy.

  “Duuuude . . .” He groaned. Then he closed his eyes and his head fell back.

  Maya was already dialing 911 on her cell phone, and Bronwyn and Duke immediately departed to find whatever in-house first aid the academy might have to offer.

  “Is there a doctor in the house?” I called out.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?” asked Nina as she knelt on Conrad’s other side.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “He was talking, then just collapsed midsentence.”

  She lifted his eyelids, first the right, then the left.

  “Pupils dilated,” she muttered, then held his wrist, timing his pulse with her watch. “Heartbeat rapid . . . Could he be on something? Drugs of some kind?”

  “I . . . don’t think so.” I knew perfectly well that Conrad imbibed mind-altering substances. But he had never done so around me and had had only one beer this evening.

  Conrad mumbled something, then giggled.

  “The paramedics shouldn’t take long,” Nina said. “There’s usually a crew stationed in the amphitheater out front during special events.”

  Sure enough, there was a commotion at the front door, and I gratefully ceded my place to the paramedics.

  Twenty minutes later we arrived at the emergency room, and I was asked the same question over and over: “Is he on anything? Did he take anything? Anything at all?”

  I wasn’t able to answer them any better than when Nina had asked. I didn’t think so, but I couldn’t say so for sure.

  I joined Bronwyn, Maya, and Duke in the waiting room, where we sat in glum silence. Maya was looking things up on her smartphone, Duke was gently stroking Bronwyn’s hand. All I could think about was whether I had, once again, exposed my friends to danger. Conrad had been hurt because of me once before. Enough was enough.