Ouija, Death & Wicked Witchery

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Ouija, Death & Wicked Witchery Page 7

by Rachael Stapleton


  His words were not matching up with his aura. He was acting as though he hated Sylvia but Mallory could see from his aura that he’d been quite of fond of her. Why would he act jealous of Sylvia’s talents? It only gave him motive in the eyes of the BLPD.

  “I hated the name Edwin and she knew it. I go by Eddie. She controlled me, by using the name I hated as a weapon to show my insignificance and constantly putting off my desire to learn. She knew I wouldn’t stay with her otherwise. But I wouldn’t kill her, for God’s sake. I wanted those secrets.” Edwin was ranting now, spittle on his lips. “How would I get them if she was dead? I guarantee she wouldn’t visit me after death. I even tried an affirmation that I played on a loop on my iPod. Nothing worked.”

  Edwin seemed to run out of venom, it was like watching a balloon deflate. “Besides, I dropped my flashlight and was trapped in that maddening secret passage like a rat in a maze until the manager found me.”

  “Why did you go in the secret passage?” Cody asked.

  “I’ve already answered that.” Edwin’s eyes slid to the door.

  “Not to me. Answer the question,” Cody said.

  Edwin huffed out a breath. “After finding the flask, I couldn’t find Sylvia. She had raved about the secret passage, so I thought she might be in there.”

  Lies. He was definitely hiding something.

  “Was there more to your relationship than work?” Cody asked.

  “I already—” Edwin stopped his protest when Cody raised an eyebrow.

  “Let’s just say I was a full-service employee.” Edwin grimaced. “Have you contacted her wife yet?”

  Kaden stopped pacing as he and Cody stared at Edwin.

  “Who is she married to?” Kaden demanded.

  “I don’t know. I just know she was married, and they separated not long before I started working for her.”

  “One more question,” Kaden said. “Why did you take only take part of the onyx choker upstairs with you?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t touch it, just left it where it landed on her floor.”

  “It’s being dusted for prints as we speak,” Kaden said.

  Edwin looked bored and shrugged his shoulders. Clearly, the good cop bad cop routine wasn’t working.

  “Alright, Mr. Poe. Thank you for your time. I’ll have an officer drive you back to the manor after some paperwork is completed,” Cody said.

  Edwin opened his mouth, but Kaden put up a hand to stop him from speaking. “You need to stay in town until this investigation is complete.”

  “You can’t keep me here!” Edwin said puffing back up.

  “Mr. Poe, we can read you your rights and lock you in a jail cell and keep you for at least twenty-four hours before charging you, if you prefer,” Cody said.

  Edwin slumped in his seat and shook his head.

  “Kaden, will you take Mr. Poe back to the manor?” Cody asked.

  “I have interviews to complete for the smash and grab at the hardware store and the assault at Guitars and Cadillacs,” Kaden said.

  “I apologize, Mr. Poe. It may be a few hours before someone can take you.” Cody said.

  “Whatever!”

  Kaden motioned at the mirror, so Mallory met them in the hall. “Well? Did you get anything?”

  Mallory nodded. “He’s either lying about his feelings for Sylvia or I’m off my game.”

  Cody nodded. “Alright then. We need to search marriage records in California to find out whom to contact about Ms. Broome’s death. Mallory, we still haven’t received the ME’s report, so I left a message for Dr. Howell telling him to look for bruising under her arms but haven’t heard back yet.”

  The hairs on the back of Mallory’s neck stood up. It felt like someone was breathing on her, then in a deep, gravelly voice, the word “Witch” was whispered accusingly in her ear. Mallory was looking behind her for the owner of the voice.

  “Mal?” Cody was snapping his fingers.

  “Who said that?”

  “I said I left a message…”

  “I heard that. Someone just said, ‘Witch’.”

  “What’re you talking about, Mallory? Are you okay?” Cody looked concerned.

  “Never mind. It doesn’t look good for Poe, but I think he’s innocent. I’m going to run over to the historical society before I go home.

  “I’ll walk you out,” Kaden said.

  As they emerged from the maze of offices and cubicles, Officer Fleur glared at Mallory.

  Kaden reached for Mallory. “I’ll check on you later.”

  Mallory looked at his large hand enveloping hers and nodded. She turned to the door but swung back, grabbing Kaden’s t-shirt to pull him down, and laid a long and passionate kiss on him. Wolf whistles flew through the station. When they finally broke apart, Kaden looked dazed. Mallory surreptitiously looked at Officer Fleur through lowered lashes, a half-smile playing on her lips.

  FOURTEEN

  M allory was walking to the Bohemian Lake Historical Society when her phone rang.

  “Mal, you better get back soon or there’s going to be another dead body to deal with here.”

  “Danior, what’s wrong?”

  “It’s General Banter. Everyone is going to stage a mutiny soon. She’s doing a great job, but let’s just say her people skills are lacking. As in non-existent.”

  Mallory chuckled, “I’m stopping to see Hatti or Mick, then I’ll be back.”

  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  In the background she heard “Private Vianu, why aren’t you at your station?” Mallory ended the call, afraid to hear more. Instead, she climbed the stairs and entered the Bohemian Lake Historical Society through the front glass doors. Not seeing anyone at the greeting station, she headed left into the museum wing and walked straight back to the portrait of Balthasar, the infamous witch hunter of Bohemian Lake. His eyes once again bored into her soul. She shuddered. Looking left and right, Mallory took a deep breath. “Balthasar, are you the one talking to me?”

  He just continued to stare. She was starting to doubt her sanity but couldn’t ignore the feeling that this man was the large orb she’d seen and was possibly hearing.

  “Balthasar, please help me understand. Is it you trying to establish contact?”

  “What was that, dear?”

  Mallory jumped as Hatti turned through the doorway—definitely not Mr. B.

  “Oh, Hatti, nothing. I was just talking to myself.” Did Balthasar just smirk at her? Shaking her head, she continued. “Do you know anything about the man in this portrait?”

  “Balthasar Popescu was a famous witch hunter in Bohemian Lake. I believe we have some of his ledgers here somewhere. At one time, we had a small journal of his, but it disappeared long ago.”

  “Do you think I could take a look at the ledgers, maybe borrow them?”

  “Oh, certainly. Without your help last night, there might not have been a museum any longer. I believe that should grant you special status. Just don’t tell anyone. We’ll have to dig them out of our archives, but I’ll have them delivered to the manor later today or tomorrow.” Hatti patted Mallory’s arm before she wandered off.

  As Mallory made the short drive back down the road to Caravan Manor, she wondered if she should end Hexfest early. There was a killer about and, while she might have figured out how the murder happened, they still had no idea what the motive was and if he or she was finished. She hated that Sylvia was dead, but fervently hoped she was the only victim. Of course, they couldn’t end Hexfest early, what if the killer was a jealous witch attending?

  As she pulled into the circle drive, Mal witnessed an unbelievable sight. Danior was using her body to block the double doors leading into the manor.

  Eve stood on the steps, shaking her fist at her.

  “Eve. Dan. What’s going on?” Mallory demanded, climbing out of the car and slamming the door.

  “My platoon has gone AWOL and now my subordinate is blocking my wa
y,” Eve shouted.

  “Mallory, I told you what was happening!” Danior exclaimed.

  “Let’s take a walk,” Mal coaxed as she slipped her arm around Eve’s waist, jostling her giant yellow purse. She motioned for Danior to go inside.

  “Grrr, the nerve of some people! I need some happy juice.” Eve started rummaging in her bag, mumbling to herself.

  “Eve, what’s going on? I hear you may need some lessons on dealing with people.”

  “Is she gone? Oh, thank goodness! Do you know how hard it is to act like a hard ass for hours on end?” Eve guzzled something from a strange blue bottle with curvy sides.

  “You mean that was an act?” Mallory asked.

  “Of course, it was. How else was I going to get everyone’s minds off the murder? I gave them something else to think about. Although, I may have taken it too far because I’m quite sure, by the gleam in their eyes, that torches and pitchforks were going to make a comeback!”

  Mallory chuckled. “I hereby grant you an honorable discharge, General Banter.”

  “Darn it! I wanted to be dishonorably discharged.”

  Mallory hugged her close, then they walked back to the manor arm in arm.

  “What was in that bottle, anyway?”

  “Water.” Eve cackled.

  As Mallory entered the foyer, she saw Danior bouncing on her toes near the reservation desk, but Mallory gave a slight shake of her head.

  “Is the bar open yet?” Eve questioned as she walked straight through to the dining room.

  Danior met her sister halfway. “Do you have any idea what we’ve been through today?”

  “Give Eve a break. She would rather everyone be ticked at her than be nervous because of another murder.”

  “Why didn’t she just tell me that! I could have run some interference. We nearly had a revolt on our hands.”

  “You looked like you were in on it this morning.” Mallory said with an innocent look.

  “Very funny.”

  “How are the seminars going? Any trouble with the guests?”

  “Great. I could see some were questioning why they hadn’t seen Madam Broome, but others said she was temperamental and shrugged it off. She was going to be part of a panel tomorrow, so we need to figure out what to do there.”

  “I’ll make an announcement tomorrow morning to the whole group before they divide up for the seminars. They know something is wrong, but we should address it and let them know we will continue. I think Sylvia would have wanted it that way. I think everyone might stay if Nana would fill-in,” Mallory said. “Oh, have you seen Star?”

  “She was pretty upset, so Nana took her upstairs.”

  Mallory nodded, and headed down the corridor in the direction of the parlor. It was good that Nana and Star were in one place, she needed to talk to them both. She paused pretending to straighten the oil painting of a Romani violin player that hung on the wood-paneled wall directly across from the secret passage. There was too much foot traffic to slip inside the secret passage, so she backtracked and headed for the main foyer. She’d try the second passage hidden in the broom closet under the main stairs. Convincing Nana to join the panel tomorrow wouldn’t be an easy sell. But first, she’d talk to Star about their séance and if she had any ideas about the voice she was hearing. She wouldn’t push it right away, but Mallory hoped Star would help her try to contact her dad again, now that she had his watch.

  FIFTEEN

  T

  he front hallway was empty and so Mallory was able to enter the closet unnoticed, taking the secret passage to the rotunda on the second floor. It was nice and bright, thank goodness for generators. She exited into the empty hall and climbed the third-floor staircase, slowing her last few steps up to their suite. She was sure she could hear chanting, so she cracked the door just a bit and blinked as her eyes attempted to adjust.

  The room was dark, lit only by candles. Nana and Star were sitting at Nana’s round fortune telling table, draped with a white tablecloth, holding hands with their eyes closed. She was afraid of disturbing them, so she slipped through the crack and slid quietly to the floor, resting her back against the hard wood of the door.

  Star shifted, hummed and then threw up her hands in an agitated manner. “I’m sorry. This isn’t working. I’m feeling blocked.”

  Nana sighed and smiled sweetly at the woman in white who sat across from her. “No need to apologize, dear!”

  Star huffed. “I simply can’t concentrate.”

  “It’s okay. Sylvia’s spirit may be confused. Nothing more we can do about it.” Nana pushed back from the table, “It’s been less than twenty-four hours. Malhala, up off the floor. What are you thinking? You’ll catch a chill.”

  Mallory climbed to her feet and did her best not to glare at her grandmother, “I was trying to be polite.” She ran her hands down her pants, stretching things back out, “Star, how are you?”

  “Hopeless, if you must know.” Her lip trembled like she might burst into tears at any moment. “I just wish I could talk to her again,” Star whispered.

  Mallory handed her a tissue. “I know how that feels all too well. I’m so sorry.” She shifted uncomfortably, unsure whether to bring up her own issues. “Star, I realize this is a challenging time for you. I just need…” her voice trailed off as she heard a man’s voice in the room.

  “Mallory, what is it?”

  Mallory ignored her, focusing instead on the other voice but it was too faint to make out.

  “Mallory! Hello?”

  Mallory forced her attention back to Star, tapping a fingernail on the table. “Sorry about that. It’s just that I’ve been, umm, hearing a voice. At least, I think it’s the same voice. It’s usually louder.”

  “Malhala Louise! Why didn’t you tell me?” Nana demanded.

  Mal chewed her lip nervously. “I thought I was hearing things. I didn’t really believe it was a spirit until the third time.”

  Nana threw her hands up. “The third time. Jeepers, girl. Is there anything else you didn’t mention?”

  “Well, come to think of it.”

  “And that sounds like my cue to leave,” Star said, rising from her seat. “Mal, I’ll do some research on auditory spirits and get back to you later.” She hugged them both before leaving.

  Nana turned back to Mallory. “Well? You were saying…?”

  “Right?! It’s just that Sylvia was supposed to be on a panel discussion tomorrow. We’re a little stuck. I was hoping you would fill in.”

  “Me?”

  “Of course, you.”

  “I’m just an old woman.”

  Mallory rolled her eyes. Clearly Nana expected her to beg. “Drop the act, Nana. We both know you’re a celebrity to these people. All you have to do is stand up there and answer some questions. It would really mean a lot to me. I’m feeling overwhelmed trying to balance everything and help with the investigation—”

  “Okay. Twist my arm.”

  “— and I never know when I’m going to hear voices now. Wait, what? Did you just agree?”

  “Yes, Malhala, I said, ‘okay.’ Don’t talk yourself out of a yes.”

  Mallory grabbed her nana and squeezed her tight. “Thank you! Do you know anything about what I’m hearing? It’s a man’s voice.”

  “A man’s voice… really? M—”

  “I know what you’re thinking but it’s not my dad.”

  Nana folded her arms across her chest. “What’s your gut telling you?”

  Mallory pressed her lips together, and contemplated the painting she’d encountered, “I have this strange feeling every time I look at this certain portrait, like the subject—the man is watching me or trying to burrow inside me. I don’t know how to describe it. I even went back to the historical society and asked his portrait if he was communicating…”

  “And?”

  “And I could have sworn he smirked.”

  “We need to identify this man in the portrait, then. Take me to it.”
r />   “I know who it is.”

  “Okay, well quit the drama. Tell me who, already.”

  “Balthasar Popescu.”

  “The witch hunter?” Nana’s eyes grew like saucers and the tone of her voice expressed an equal balance of outrage, fear and dismay. “Malhala, be incredibly careful.”

  “Be careful about what?” Kaden asked as he walked through the door.

  Nana turned around with a confused expression.

  Mallory closed her eyes, wincing.

  “I take it you haven’t told Kaden either,” Nana said, unfolding her arms.

  Mallory shook her head at her and Nana tsked. “I’ll fix some sandwiches while you talk.”

  “Thank you, Nana but I’m not hungry.” Mallory sighed as Kaden hurried off to her room, apparently wanting privacy.

  Mallory stopped just inside her doorway to find Kaden on the phone.

  “Yes,” He paused. “Great. Okay.”

  “What was that about?” Mallory asked.

  “Forensics took casts of the tracks out by the tree and they found a match already.”

  “That’s great news,” Mallory said, but the look on Kaden’s face did not bode well. “What’s wrong?”

  “It matches the manor’s truck.”

  Mallory’s eyes filled with tears. Kaden reached for her hand and pulled until she sat on his knee.

  “You know we keep the truck keys on a hook in the kitchen. Almost anyone would be able to take them.”

  “I know, Mal. We’ll keep looking.”

  “Do you trust me, Kaden?”

  “Absolutely. Even though you haven’t told me everything.”

  “I’m sorry,” Mallory offered, a little reluctantly. But then she cleared her throat and said, “I wasn’t trying to keep it from you, I just thought I was hearing things. And if you want to get technical, I asked if you had heard what I did on at least two occasions. You thought it was because I was upset or not feeling well.”

 

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