“Oh, good, I hate to make three arrests this morning.”
“Three? This animal just—” The chastised reporter was about to go off.
“I’d say it was justified. You don’t spit questions in a lady’s face, especially a lady who’s having a bad moment.” Loof came through! “And you, you need to keep it together. This is your one get out of jail free card.” Mario’s teeth looked more human and his eyes were back to their normal brown.
“Officer DeLoof, I have a few questions.” Redman scrambled up and started firing his questions at Loof. I had questions too, but the vampire in front of me was the priority for this moment. I walked up to him and grabbed his shirt, I needed his full attention. He very well could have decided to rip my throat out, but he didn’t. He listened.
“Get out of here, now. I’ll watch out for her today. You stay safe. She doesn’t need to be worrying about you turning to ash in jail, okay?” I said and Mario, who was a man of few words, nodded at me. I had to get back to my job and had to be sure that Tatum was getting a lawyer, fast.
Mario disappeared. He literally moved so fast again that it was impossible to tell where he’d gone to hide from the encroaching daylight.
I walked over to DeLoof and Weston Redman. Garrett Dewitt was rolling on all the questions and answers.
The story wasn’t looking good for Tatum.
“That’s all for now,” DeLoof said. I watched Redman file a typically sensational report, convicting Tatum for Tommy Strayhorn’s murder before she’d even gotten to the police station.
“Your turn.” Garrett Dewitt turned the camera on me. I struggled for a moment to find the calm, to access the unbiased facts of what had just gone down.
I struggled to not run after Tatum, or proclaim her innocent, just as Yooper Man had proclaimed her guilty. My job was to share the observable, verifiable, facts.
I stared at the camera and began.
“New developments this morning in the murder investigation of Tommy Strayhorn. Widow’s Bay Police tell Your U.P. News that they narrowed in on a suspect overnight. Police say Tatum McGowan was arrested and will be charged with murder. Further, shell casings found near the scene matched a gun registered to the longtime Widow’s Bay business owner. McGowan was taken into custody and will likely be charged later today. We’ll bring you more as it becomes available. Marzie Nowak, Your U.P. News.”
“You’re clear.” Garrett DeWitt dropped the camera to his side and walked over to me.
“Where to, boss?” he asked me.
“Police headquarters,” I said.
“Pretty impressive there with that raging vampire and raging jerk.”
“Thanks, boss.” And we loaded up and headed for the police station.
Chapter 7
“Stay away.” I shot the text to Candy. She was the mayor and it wouldn’t do any good for her to dive into the chaos that was currently the Widow’s Bay jail lobby. The lobby was partitioned from the tiny jail by steel doors and bullet resistant windows.
I supposed you could say I’d just interfered with the news, keeping the mayor away, and I suppose you’d be right. But the Distinguished Ladies Club had enough on our plates without a political scandal on top of it. I may have filed an unbiased report, but I did cross a line when I told Candy to stay away.
I would worry about that later, I supposed.
The officer at the window in the jail waiting area repeatedly told us he didn’t know a thing, except that Tatum was being processed and that could take a while.
The place was packed. Not only had Man Cave Dot News and I showed up, Garrett DeWitt was here, seemingly now growling at Weston Redman. Georgianne and Pauline had arrived, and of course, Fawn. She’d brought with her a hamster in a portable cage.
“He’s got to be monitored and my staff isn’t in until eight today,” was the explanation for the poor little guy who was resting, presumably comfortably, in the corner of the contraption that Fawn carted over.
Aunt Dorothy, Maxine, and Frances were also crowding the lobby.
“This is absurd. I demand to see the evidence.” Aunt Dorothy was making demands that she had zero legal right to see carried out.
“I’m going to call DeLoof’s father. He used to have the hots for me, and don’t I know it. I have no idea why Ida ever married him, but still, I am sure he’d be very disappointed to know that he raised a son with such little regard for truth and justice! You hear that back there!” This time it was Maxine, chiming in with threats.
“Maybe I could make something for her, a cake with a file in it? Is that still a thing people do, Marzie?” Frances asked in all seriousness.
“No, it was never a thing they did. I’m sure she’ll be out sooner than you could get the batter in the oven.”
“Oh, I’m still pretty quick,” Frances claimed. I put my head in my hands.
“I know, this is giving me a headache too.” Georgianne sat next to me. She’d clearly come to the realization that all this sound, fury, and convalescing hamster energy wasn’t going to do a darn thing to help Tatum in this moment.
Eventually, LeAnne Mercy walked in and I swear it was the first time I’d breathed since they pulled Tatum out in cuffs.
LeAnne Mercy was a bit younger than the rest of the DLC. She was sharp though. I could see, someday, we’d be lucky to have her in our coven. Her husband and kids though, for now, took up any non-lawyer time she had.
“Everyone, here’s the deal. It’s going to be hours before she’s done being booked. And she’ll likely have to spend the night here. If all goes well, she can post bail tomorrow.”
“What about cakes or cookies, can she have them?” Frances asked and LeAnne patiently answered.
“Not today, but tomorrow, at her place, I bet she’d love that.”
I decided to approach in my capacity as a friend, if not as a person who was supposed to get the truth and report it.
“Okay, on the record, LeAnne, what’s up?”
“Ms. McGowan is a prominent and respected business owner. She has zero criminal record or history of violence. This will be over quickly, and it is clearly a huge mistake.”
“What about that time she slapped Clarence Vanderpole for breaking all those glasses?” Frances said.
“Frances, you’re not helping dear,” Aunt Dorothy shushed her.
“Your client is a violent lunatic; everyone saw her yesterday. I’d be surprised if they denied her bale. She’s a menace to society. How do you explain that it was HER gun that shot Tommy Strayhorn in cold blood?” Weston Redman was doing his best to convict Tatum for the readers of Man Cave Dot News. LeAnne Mercy, attorney at law, did not take the bait.
“This is not a fact, in the least. If you’ll excuse me.”
I’d wanted to ask LeAnne more, as a friend, but I realized now she’d be insane to tell me a darn thing. I looked at Georgianne and she followed LeAnne out. If there was anything, we—
her family and friends—could do, Georgianne would find out and report back.
I walked back to find my erstwhile photographer. All of a sudden, he was intent on learning about how to become a veterinarian. Or more aptly put, learning about the veterinarian.
“And you handle all sorts of animals?”
Fawn nodded and seemed to be splitting her attention three ways, between Tatum’s conundrum, her patient’s well-being, and the attentions of the handsome photojournalist/slash mogul.
Pauline and Georgianne flanked me and put an arm through each of my elbows.
“You need to ditch your handsome assistant. We need to meet, now, full DLC. It’s an emergency, as you can see. It looks like Morganna was accurate,” Pauline said.
“You think Tatum was arrested because we’re not honoring Beltane?” I tried not to sound skeptical, but I was. No matter what I’d seen since I’d been back here, skepticism was my default position. It made me a good reporter, but a boneheaded witch some days.
“My place in an hour.” It was seven a.m.
on a workday. They were right though. If ever there was a reason for an emergency meeting of the Distinguished Ladies of Widow’s Bay, this was it.
“Agreed, I’ll get Fawn.”
I interrupted Garrett’s intense small talk with Fawn.
“Garrett, can you shoot a few pictures of the outside of the jail for our story?”
“Yep, will do. Nice talking to you, Fawn.”
“Let’s get the word out. Time for a meeting.”
Chapter 8
By midday the entire DLC had gathered at The Broken Spine.
I was a little on edge for this meeting. We had a new, provisional member, and I wasn’t too sure about her. This was the first time I’d had a concern about a member of the DLC, but we had to take her in, it was part of the deal.
Mrs. Derek Heisenberg was the price we had to pay to find out what was happening with the half-vampires that now made up about an eighth—at last count—of The Benevolent Independent Order of the Buck. So far, we’d gotten the short end of the deal. Carrie Heisenberg was a provisional member of the Distinguished Ladies Club. Until now, we hadn’t had much advance knowledge of anything.
Though they had tipped me off about the bad potato salad, which was something. I tried to be charitable about Carrie Heisenberg, but she still put me on edge. That was all I needed: more to put me on edge.
“Carrie, just flick the wand a little. You’re waving it around like a magician in a cut-rate Vegas show.” Maxine did not have the patience to teach and Carrie did not seem to have the willingness to listen.
“Abra, abra—”
“NO!” Maxine put her hand on the wand and stopped Carrie from starting a monsoon or whatever Abracadabra did when combined with a weak witch and a fully loaded wand.
“Ladies, we’re in a hurry here.” Pauline clapped her hands to bring the meeting to order.
“It has come to our attention that, if we do not do a Beltane event, things will continue to go very badly for our coven,” Pauline explained, and Aunt Dorothy nodded like she was at a tent revival.
“Morganna is convinced that, since Beltane is one of the most important events on the Celtic Calendar, we, as witches, must honor it and it can’t be janky,” Georgianne added to the knowledge base.
“Beltane represents new life, spring, rebirth; it really is the whole nine for us,” Aunt Dorothy said.
“Well, tell that to Ridge and those jerks who stole our festival time right from under us,” Maggie countered.
“And talk about janky. The porta-potty thingies were disgusting, and they didn’t have any decent coleslaw,” Carrie added.
“Does Tatum’s arrest have to do with dropping the ball on Beltane?” There it was, the other urgent matter we had to deal with. Esther had asked that question, and it was a good one.
“We can’t know that; let’s hope it’s bad luck or bad police work. We know she wouldn’t have shot someone in cold blood,” Georgianne said.
“Cold no, but she was pretty darn heated with the guy they found pumped full of lead on the street.”
“Thank you, Paula, that’ll do,” Aunt Dorothy shushed the younger witch.
I had a terrible feeling in my stomach. I’d seen it, everyone had seen it: Tatum losing her cool, repeatedly. Still, that was the only thing people had seen, a fight, not a shooting.
“Does she have bail money? We can start a collection right now, here, and at our restaurants,” Esther offered. Both she and Maggie owned popular eateries in Widow’s Bay.
“She’s fine on that, but it was a nice thought,” I added.
“I for one would love to just curse Ridge and be done with it,” Pauline said. I was a little worried that Carrie would hear that idea and go running to her husband to tip him off. Maybe the Heisenbergs were double agents. Anything was possible.
“Oh, goodness, be very cautious with curses,” Aunt Dorothy said.
“Don’t be so alarmist,” Maxine said to Dorothy.
“Look what happened to Lottie, she was the Queen of Curses,” Aunt Dorothy pointed out and a hush fell over the room. Lottie had cursed this town; her actions had kept out the Yooper Naturals because of a personal beef she had. To enact her curse, she’d sacrificed half the men in the town. Most of the widows of Widow’s Bay owed that status to Lottie.
It was an ugly time and Lottie’s murder was the mess I’d stepped into when I first moved back home. So much had happened since then. It was less than a year ago, but it felt like a lifetime.
“Getting murdered by your bad seed relative is just bad luck, not bad cursing,” Maxine said. The two launched into a side argument that wasn’t getting anything accomplished and one that had probably been brewing since The Great Depression.
“Ladies let’s focus on Beltane. We can do it at the lake, no permits required—well, except the one for a bonfire,” Candy chimed in, presenting the official paperwork that would have to be filed for anything and everything.
“Okay, so, we need food, drink, and kindling.” Pauline started making a list of jobs and the ladies began to fill it.
“All in favor of kicking the Testicle Festival in the—?” Maxine announced.
“Language,” Aunt Dorothy reprimanded her.
“Fine, kicking the Testicle Festival to the curb. You happy?” Maxine said, and Dorothy nodded.
Georgianne came over to me.
“This doesn’t solve Tatum’s problem.”
“No, it doesn’t. How about we do a little spell to see if we can help the investigation along?" Maybe we could find some sort of clue to lead us in the direction of the real murderer. I knew it wasn’t Tatum but had no idea where to look.
"Great minds think alike.”
“Okay, next on the agenda. We need to grab some clues for this murder and get our girl out of jail,” I said.
We needed a stand-in for Tatum. Normally Candy, Pauline, Fawn, Georgianne, Tatum, and I were a powerful combination for any spell. Tatum was currently out of commission for spell casting.
“I’ll do it.” Frances came up and put her hand in mine. She was bright-eyed and looked eager to pitch in. Her health hadn’t been the strongest lately and it was good to see her. She was determined to help; her eyes had a glint in them.
“Okay, let’s do this thing. I have committees to supervise. If I don’t, they start fighting,” Pauline said. She was a veteran of getting committees to complete their assigned duties.
“Let’s go upstairs.” We left a dozen or so members of the DLC to plan our hijacking of the weekend festivities and the six of us gathered upstairs in the stacks of The Broken Spine.
Georgianne lifted her hands and said “Trésor cache.”
A wall shelf on the second floor of The Broken Spine shimmered and transformed from a flat dead-end to an archway. The archway opened into a huge hidden library of texts, boxes of documents, and I had no idea what else. I had seen this magic before, but it was still amazing to witness.
The Broken Spine itself was an enchanted portal that housed knowledge we could access as we moved forward in this world as Widow’s Bay witches. Georgianne could spend a lifetime trying to catalog and read what was hidden here.
Members of the DLC—back before Dorothy, Maxine, and Frances—had stored the archives here, for safety. They were too valuable to be in plain sight. Georgianne was the perfect steward of this place, though I’d told her to find an intern to help her, I knew she was never quite as happy as when she was roaming through these dusty shelves. The amount of material bowled me over anytime Georgianne revealed it to us.
We all six stepped inside and then Georgianne closed the magic archway.
“Okay, no cauldron this time, but I’ve got a quick substitution,” Fawn said. She was usually the person to bring ingredients, and Tatum tended the fire. This time, without her, Fawn’s ingredient was the fire.
Tatum waved her wand, a recent acquisition, and the tip began to glow. It wasn’t on fire exactly, but its light and warmth glowed at the tip. She let go of the wand.
Instead of dropping to the floor, it hovered in the air. The six of us grabbed hands and formed a circle around Fawn’s flaming wand.
I could feel Pauline and Candy’s force gathering. They never said the words or added the elements, but Pauline’s ingredient was always energy and Candy was the focus. As our magic gained power, it was Georgianne who gauged the proper moment for each step. Holding on to Georgianne’s hand on one side and Frances’s on the other, I waited for my turn.
Georgianne looked at me and nodded. Frances squeezed my hand.
Time bend backward and on itself
Open the curtain to our eyes.
Reveal now the truth
Not murderous lies.
A cloud rose up from Fawn’s wand. It took shape. We stayed tight in our circle to let the spell do what we’d asked it to do. There was a crackling that startled me. It a sound I’d never heard before, but then again, we’d always done this at the cauldron.
Then we saw a face, a body: it was Tommy Strayhorn. Strayhorn was backing up and shaking his head. This was the moment we needed to see.
The perspective shifted, widened, and we saw more. We saw the barrel of the gun pointed at the beer vendor and, as though the vision was our gaze, it rose up to the face of the person holding the gun.
I gasped when I realized who it was.
Tatum. Tatum was holding the gun!
She fired. I heard the gunshot like a crack that popped my eyes.
We watched, still holding tight to each other’s hands, as Tommy Strayhorn blew backward with the force of the shot. Strayhorn’s hand rose and his face drained of color.
I strained to see Tatum again, but she was fading, the gun was gone. Why had she shot him? It made no sense to me.
“No!” It was a strangled cry, and it wasn’t coming from the vision. It was coming from our circle.
The scene dissolved and I realized the cry of no was coming from Frances.
“No!” she said again, and our circle was broken.
Frances let go of my hand and she began to sink to the floor.
Curse Strings Page 5
