A Witch, a Fairy, and an Esper

by Ross Homer

  “Jeeze girl. Just give it a rest.”

  Things in our lives were about to change. Damn, I wish one of my witch abilities was a little precognition.

  <<<<<>>>>>

  She yelled at him, “So you’re not going to get a divorce? You’re going to stay with her? You lying bastard!” She slapped him and screamed, “You think you can just come in here and fuck me on promises?”

  Tears poured from her eyes and dripped onto her blouse as she glared at him. “Well, stupid me. I believed those promises. I’m going to call her and tell her what her wonderful husband has been up to. Fucking another woman. And…and…you are lousy in bed!”

  Before she could react, he backhanded her hard across the face, breaking her nose. Then he punched her in the right cheek, then her chest with a right and a left combination. As she tried to move away from him, backhanded her again.

  He took a couple of more shots at the mostly defenseless woman before his right fist came up and he nailed her square in the solar plexus. She doubled over and fell on the floor, unable to catch a breath. In the next seconds, he kicked her a couple more times in the gut and ribs. As she groaned, he raised his right foot and stomped down hard on her head, caving in her temple and killing her. He thought he’d only knocked her out.

  Enough was enough. When he took a closer look and realized she was dead, he shrugged then picked her up and carried her out to his SUV in the garage and dumped her in the back. Good. She wouldn’t threaten him again. And tough shit. She was going to die anyway. Other than her nose, she didn’t bleed much so it was not much of a worry.

  He owned a few acres of land up in the mountains and it was early enough to go out there. It was a nice spring drive, too. When he got there, he dumped her onto the ground and in a moment with the use of his trusty ax, he tossed her head over into some trees.

  Taking the ax to the rest of her body, he scattered the parts around, making it easier for the flesh eaters to get at her. Then he put the ax in a plastic bag and tossed it in the back. He then sat on the disposable cover on his driver’s seat. The drive back to the city was uneventful and the shower much needed. He knew he was bloody as hell, so he went back to her place to clean up. She was in no position now to care if he used her shower and washer and dryer.

  While he showered her blood off, he promised himself, again, that the next time this situation came up he’d bring a backpack with a change of clothes.

  As he cleaned the places he was pretty sure he’d touched in the two nights he stayed with her, he wondered if he was in love with killing the women who angered him. It just seemed to happen that way. Every damn one of them would eventually get on his nerves and that always pissed him off. This one did too and had the gall to threaten to go to his wife. When she yelled that threat at him, the rest happened. It was like an automatic response or something. He couldn’t quite figure it out.

  Several hours later, he was home with his wife and kids. His excuse was the one he always used; he had to cover an overnight shift for another guy. His wife was kind of dumb and believed it.

  He’d met this woman in a bar. She was attractive, early thirties, and prowling for a man. He was it. He was good looking, tall and fit and wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. She was newly separated and, as she told her sister earlier the day before, horny. Her ex was a real prick to live with but at least he was decent in bed.

  When she left the bar with him, it was the last anyone ever saw of her.

  <<<<<>>>>>

  I was still stiff and sore Friday morning but not as bad as yesterday. Elsa helped me with a gentle shower, and not only did I feel better after, I smelled better, too.

  We went to the office and puttered around to start the day. I looked at some emails and snail mail bills. There was nothing too important, so I tossed them into the IN box. I’d pay the bills Monday. I still had Sato’s ten grand and I was keeping it so the bills wouldn’t be a problem.

  Junk mail was a problem, as usual, and all of it went into recycling. Did I really need to belong to the Western Sheriff’s Association? Nope.

  Just as Elsa returned from the coffee shop downstairs with a couple of nice Danishes, a woman came in. She was a bottle blonde and looked to be about forty. She was a bit on the lumpy side and had done a lot of crying recently. I immediately felt for her. She’d lost someone close to her.

  I stood and introduced myself. She said, “I’m Lena Bordlund and I hope you can find someone for me.”

  I nodded and smiled. “I’ll do my best. Tell me about him or her.” I waved Elsa off with the Danish. “Ms. Bordlund, would you like coffee?”

  “No thank you.”

  “Okay. Tell me about who we are looking for.”

  “My sister, Paula Smithson. She disappeared about ten days ago. My husband and I, and the rest of the family, thought she may have gone on one of her what we call ‘snit’ trips without telling anyone. She’s done it before. We’d had an argument earlier that week and her taking off is no surprise. But now she’s been gone too long, I think.”

  “So, she has done this before?” I made a note on my epad.

  “Yes. It takes nothing for her to get her nose out of joint. Hence the name ‘snit’ trip. I mean the slightest anything she doesn’t agree with. She’s been that way all her life. Most of the time we just let it go by. But this time…I don’t like the feeling I get when I go to her house. Without trying to sound creepy or weird, it feels just plain strange over there.”

  I looked this woman over and felt like she could pay our standard fee, so I decided to take her as a client. “Ms. Bordlund, I should have something for you inside a week. Do you have something of hers?”

  “Yes.” She handed me a sweater from a bag. “This. It hasn’t been cleaned since she last wore it. Will it do?”

  “It’ll be perfect.”

  We spent a half hour talking about the missing Paula and where she might be. I didn’t want to tell the woman across from me that I didn’t like the vibes I had already picked from the sweater. That told me in advance that I was probably not going to like what I found when I started using it to find Paula Smithson.

  Lena paid the retainer and left. I looked over my notes before I closed my door and concentrated on the missing woman.

  Paula Smithson was recently separated from a man her family despised. It took her ten years to reach the same conclusion as the rest of her family had in the beginning. She’d finally tossed him out a couple of weeks ago…just before she disappeared, in fact. From the picture Lena gave me, he looked like a wimpy kind of guy and not the kind, theoretically, who would do something stupid. Like beat his wife. I’d been wrong before, but I had a feeling already from touching the sweater that there was more to this than what Lena knew. A lot more.

  A phone call to Paula’s office told me they hadn’t seen her either and she’d told no one where she’d gone. Her boss was cool to me, but his temper was getting short.

  Now it was time to go the distance. “Elsa, I need you.”

  She came in, her eyes wide and a little frightened. “What’s happening?”

  “I’m going to use this sweater to help locate the woman who owned it and I already don’t like what I’m feeling. Baby, I think I need you with me just in case. Okay?”

  “You should know better than ask. Of course, I’ll be here for you. The couch?”

  “Yes. Lock the outer door first.”

  She returned a moment later and we sat hip to hip on the couch. I raised the sweater and put my face in it.

  And almost screamed a second later! I was there when Paula Smithson was murdered!

  I gasped out, “Oh Goddess, Elsa. Paula Smithson is dead!”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes! She died in her house. In the kitchen, in fact. Call Ms. Bordlund and have her meet us there. I’ll call the police.”

  Ten minutes later we were at Paula’s house. I didn’t much like it, but Bob was there from the police. As usual, he eyed me like a love-struck d
og. But there was something else, too. Hatred? Anger for sure. It was weird as if there wasn’t enough weird in my life at the moment.

  “Easy, Bob,” I said as I went through the front door.

  He pushed it closed behind us and snapped, “Have you finally found God and given up your sinful ways?”

  “No and it’s none of your damn business. Now…why don’t you just play cop and I’ll show you and forensics what I have.”

  Something was wrong with him. I knew it. His immediate anger for one thing was my first clue. Asking me if I found God? Seriously? Me…a witch? Was he having trouble at home? At his office? I didn’t really care.

  I smiled and nodded at Brenda Hall, the ME who got the call. I went into the kitchen with her and said, “My senses tell me that Paula Smithson died within a foot of where I’m standing. I don’t see any blood but then, that’s your job, Brenda.”

  “Then move out of the way and let us start.”

  “We’ll check over the rest of the house while you do that. Bob? Coming?”

  He nodded tightly but said nothing. Why was he looking at the base of the stove? Did he see something?

  The rest of the house was like most houses; parts of it neat, parts of it not. In the master bedroom the bed had been slept in. Brenda would look for traces here. The shower was dry, but the towels were askew. Someone had taken a shower. Paula? Or her assailant.

  As far as we could tell there were no missing clothes.

  Brenda found me in the middle bedroom. She crossed over to me and said, “We found blood trace on the floor by the stove. Someone had tried to clean it up but missed a few drops. I’ll find out if it’s the victim’s or not at the lab. Did you notice a hairbrush or toothbrush when you looked around?”

  “Both. Back in the master bedroom and bath. And the sheets have been slept in.”

  “Okay. I’ll have something for Lieutenant Albertson a little later.” She leaned close to me and said, “You too. I’ll call you before I call him. In fact, come with me.”

  She took me by the arm and led me to the back porch. This was a nice home, moderately priced and the back porch opened out onto an expansive patio.

  “Just so you know,” she started, “something’s up with Albertson. I don’t care if he’s your ex or not, but I think I wouldn’t want to be alone with him anywhere right now. He’s been a worse asshole than usual over the last couple of weeks. Getting pulled off that Sato case really torqued him. That the captain gave it to Nissa Stanley…I thought he’d have a coronary over it. So, from one friend to another, please watch your step around him.”

  “Thanks, Brenda. You can count on it. I noticed that attitude right off when we got here.”

  We went back inside and since there was nothing for me to do, I drove back to my office.

  When I got back, I said to Elsa, “Should Bob Albertson come in, you come in here too. Armed. Got that? Use the Derringer you have. I’m not kidding, lover. He was giving off some major nasties over at Paula Smithson’s house. Even the ME noticed. Now…Before I call Lena Bordlund, I need to wait for Brenda’s call about what was found.”

  Elsa nodded. “I can put it in my back pocket. If I wear a skirt tomorrow, I’ll use that slick thigh holster you got me last year for Christmas.”

  “Thanks.” I went into my office and wondered about what I’d seen at Paula’s house. Bob had looked straight down at the floor, exactly where Brenda had found the blood. Did he know something or was I just being bitchy? He had temper issues but bad enough to murder someone? From past history with me I’d almost have to say yes.

  I shrugged it off and read a couple of emails.

  Brenda called me just before lunch.

  “Jo, Brenda here. That blood we found was Paula Smithson’s. And she’d had sex either alone or with someone. We found her trace on the sheets but not another person’s so I’m going to say if she had a partner who used a condom although the only hair on the sheets was hers.”

  “Crap. This couldn’t be easy. Thanks anyway for the update. I’ll go see her sister after lunch.”

  “Hold on there, Jo. You’ll find this interesting. The place had been wiped clean of fingerprints, too. There were smudges around but nothing usable. I hate to say it, but I think Paula Smithson is probably dead. God only knows where her body is.”

  “She is dead, Brenda. I should be able to find her body, too. I’ll let you know.”

  I hated having conversations like the one I was going to have with Lena Bordlund. They are never easy and this time we had no body. I had no proof that Paula was dead, just a little blood and the fact that she’d had sex with someone. But the unknown person had taken the time to wipe down her house.

  Elsa accompanied me to Lena Borlund’s house because she could control some of the emotions, I felt like we were going to encounter.

  <<<<<>>>>>

  Since the loss of Gaelle Pelletier, Poppi had become her replacement in every aspect of Roy Bob’s life. That included his bed. She wasn’t wild about that part of it but her pay increased significantly with it so she could put out for him when he wanted her.

  On the other hand, she liked Carl a lot and sleeping with him was always a pleasure. They’d been sort of together for a couple of years but now they had to slip around to do it since she was Roy Bob’s girl. Roy Bob? She could do without him but, like she told Gaelle before she pulled the trigger, he paid the bills. So…knees and back and anything else on his command.

  “Poppi! Come in here,” Roy Bob yelled from his office. He was so loud that she was surprised that half the Boise police department didn’t come with her.

  “What?” she said as she entered his office.

  “We have a problem. Look at what I just received. Hold on to your breakfast, too. It ain’t pretty.”

  Poppi had not seen what happened to the Satos so she was unprepared for what she was about to see.

  First was the email he pointed to.

  It seems we have a communication disconnect, Mr. Miller. I do not appreciate that. You owe me ten million dollars, US, for a project that was completed last week. Your problem was eliminated as I am sure you have seen in a previous email.

  The included video clip will demonstrate what happens to people who upset me and you, sir, have upset me greatly. However, I will give you yet another forty-eight hours to produce the money owed or you will meet a fate worse than you’re about to see here.

  Reply to this email as to where I can pick up the money and our business will be concluded.

  Aato

  Poppi was highly skilled with the computer and the first thing she noticed was no sender’s address. All it said on that line was somebody named ‘Aato.’ She wondered who in hell he was. It took some major skills to do that.

  Then she read the email a couple of times. Roy Bob was a major dick and it didn’t surprise her one bit that he’d stiff someone. Ten million was a lot of money but he had it.

  But something had scared the holy hell out of Gaelle and Poppi hated shooting her. But like she told Gaelle, Roy Bob paid the bills.

  Roy Bob looked up at Poppi who was reading over his shoulder. “Poppi, I have seen what he can do, and I think this time I’ll pay him. Watch and, the trash can is right beside your foot. I’ve already seen this.”

  “Roy Bob, why do I have to see whatever it is if you’ve decided to pay?”

  He looked honestly contrite at her. Roy Bob contrite? Now she really was curious.

  “Poppi, I kills me to admit that I may have actually made a mistake and underestimated my contractor. I will not show you what was done to the Sato family. Gaelle saw it and I’m pretty sure that’s why she ran. I think though, you should see this and know that this ol’ dog can learn a new lesson.”

  He tapped the attached video and the screen filled with “Part I.”

  Then it showed Gaelle lying in the hospital, coming out of sedation.

  “You didn’t kill her, Poppi. In this case, I don’t think it mattered because of what�
��s about to happen.”

  A shadow appeared and blood abruptly began jetting from around Gaelle’s neck. Her eyes opened wide in panic and it looked like she wanted to scream. But she uttered not a sound.

  A voice over said, “Her head has been completely severed. You can’t see it in this scene, but it was. She got off easy. You will not.”

  Poppi heard a scream and people ran into the room as blood continued to pour out of the wound.

  The scene faded out and was replaced by ‘Part II.’

  This time Poppi did hit the carpeted floor. She made it through the older woman’s decapitation but what was then done to the other woman was more than she could handle. She didn’t make it halfway through the scene.

  Roy Bob continued watching the video in rapt attention as the three creatures did things to the other woman before she was disposed of. This time he, too, lost it and reached for the trashcan.

  A voice over said, “Do not screw this up, Mr. Miller. The old woman lost her head. It was delicious. The rest of her? Not so much. The younger one though…I assume you watched what happened to her. You have several women at your ranch who I know will be quite agreeable. Pay me what you owe. I will also add, as if you hadn’t noticed, that there is absolutely no way you can run and hide from me. No way. I will find you anywhere on this planet. Forty-eight hours.”

  The video abruptly went black.

  Roy Bob got up carefully, afraid his legs might not work, and made his way to his bathroom where he cleaned up. Poppi was coming around so he went to her and helped her lay down on the couch.

  She whispered, “That...that was horrendous. I don’t ever want to see something like that again. And I damn sure don’t want that to happen to me. God! Roy Bob...pay the man! Pay him today! I’ll take that money anywhere on this fucking planet if I need to. Just do it!”

  “It’s a done deal. I’ll go reply right now and then gather up the money. I have it here.”

  An hour later, Poppi and ten million dollars were on their way to a small town on the Oregon coast. A couple of men unloaded the money and she returned home. That night, for the first time in ages, Poppi got blind drunk.