Heists and Homicides

by Lily Webb

  “I apologize for the confusion. Mr. Luca has requested a private session with you,” Belinda said and my breath caught in my throat. Why did Giovanni want to talk to me alone? Did he already have some idea of what I was after?

  “Oh, okay, I guess. Where are we supposed to meet him?”

  “Actually, he’s asked that I bring you directly to his suite on the top floor,” Belinda said and I swallowed hard while I tried not to let my nervousness show. I glanced over my shoulder and swallowed a whimper. Marcel was already gone.

  “Is that a problem?” Belinda asked.

  “No, of course not,” I said. I’d come to talk to Giovanni anyway, though I would’ve preferred to do it on my terms, not his.

  Belinda nodded and motioned for me to follow her. As we crossed the main hall toward the elevators, I stole a glance to my left. Marcel stood snapping pictures of the main casino, some three hundred feet away from me, as his guide monitored him. He’d definitely gotten the bad end of the deal.

  “This way, please,” Belinda said as she pressed a button mounted into the wall. A ding echoed and the elevator doors flew apart. She held them for me, and I stepped inside the metal container. Belinda inserted a badge hanging from her neck into a slit in the control panel and the doors closed.

  “Mr. Luca is looking forward to meeting you,” Belinda said, trying to remain cheery and chatty as the elevator lurched upward, leaving my stomach on the ground floor.

  “Likewise,” I said, the words barely whistling out through my tightened throat. Truthfully, I had no idea what to expect, but no matter how I tried to calm myself, something didn’t sit right. The building was taller than I’d thought, because at the twenty-fifth floor, the doors dinged as they re-opened.

  A gasp leaked out of me as we stepped into a room that could’ve been lifted from an ancient French palace. Where panels should have lined the walls, instead mirrors hung in their place, reflecting my own panicked image back at me hundreds of times over. Hand-painted images of angels and demons grappling with one another as they tumbled through richly-rendered clouds adorned the ceiling. A bubbling hot tub in the center of the room gurgled as we moved further inside.

  We rounded a corner to the right where a devastatingly handsome man sat in a red velvet chair, its curved back springing from his shoulders as if he’d grown wings. Marble statues of snarling wolves surrounded him like stone members of his pack. Was Giovanni trying to intimidate me? If so, it worked.

  “There she is! Zoe Clarke, the woman of the hour,” Giovanni said, beaming. It might’ve been a trick of the light, but his teeth seemed sharpened like he was on the verge of transforming. He wore a crisp black suit over a collared blue silk shirt, and his shoes were so polished that their shine nearly blinded me.

  “Thank you, Belinda,” Giovanni said, dismissing her. Without a word, she left me alone with him, a hunter and his prey. Giovanni stood, his gelled black hair sparkling, and offered me a hand so covered with rings that I was amazed he could lift it.

  “I’m so happy to finally meet you, the star reporter of all of Moon Grove,” Giovanni said, smiling as he wiggled his hand to remind me it was there. I shook it and his smile faded a bit.

  “Is everything okay?” he asked.

  “Yes, sorry. I’m a little overwhelmed by, well, all of this,” I said, gesturing at the extravagance. Giovanni chuckled and shrugged.

  “What can I say? A man likes nice things,” he said.

  “I grew up on a farm, I wouldn’t know nice if it rose up and bit me like a snake,” I blurted and my cheeks flamed as soon as the words left my lips.

  “There’s nothing wrong with that either. I came from a modest background myself, though I’m sure you’d find that hard to believe now,” Giovanni said. “But where are my manners? Can I get you something to drink?”

  He stepped over to a carved wooden shelf and pulled a crystal decanter from a basin of ice. An amber liquid swirled inside as he taunted me with it.

  “I’m okay, thanks,” I said. The idea of drinking thousands of dollars didn’t feel right, and I needed to keep my head on straight anyway.

  “Suit yourself,” Giovanni said and seized a glass from beside the basin. Using the tongs that rested nearby, Giovanni transferred ice from the basin into the glass and poured the amber liquid on top. The frozen cubes cracked and popped and I jumped every time.

  “While I appreciate all this, Mr. Luca, I have to say I’m a little confused,” I said. “I thought I was coming for a tour of the casino, not your living quarters.”

  Giovanni turned and rested against the shelf, his drink resting in one hand. He raised it to me and took a sip before sighing his approval.

  “I’ve been dying to meet you. You’re the one reporter everyone’s talking about these days,” Giovanni said.

  “Yeah, lucky me,” I muttered.

  “Besides, we sent your paper an offer to tour the casino weeks ago and your editor-in-chief declined. As soon as I heard he’d changed his mind and decided to send you, I knew there was a reason so I decided to try to get the scoop from the source,” Giovanni said.

  “Guilty as charged,” I said. He laughed and nodded.

  “As I suspected.”

  “To be fair, a lot of things have changed since your initial offer. Suddenly, you and your casino are much more newsworthy,” I said.

  “They are? Why’s that?” he asked. Was he playing stupid? I wasn’t buying it.

  “Percy Thornheart is dead, but I’m sure you knew that already,” I said.

  “How did I know that was what you came to ask about?”

  “Call me predictable if you want, but I’m doing my job,” I said, shrugging.

  “Oh, I beg to differ. You’re hardly predictable, Miss Clarke,” Giovanni said and took another swig of his drink. Well, at least I had that going for me. “And I presume you think I had some role to play in his death?”

  “Not until recently,” I said, avoiding moving out of fear of touching — and soiling — any of the expensive goods in the room.

  “What changed your mind, if I can ask?”

  “I found out that the Bank of Moon Grove heavily invested in the construction of this casino,” I said, my voice trembling.

  “That’s public record, so it’s hardly surprising,” Giovanni said. I wish I’d known that sooner, but then again, I wasn’t even plugged into the community enough to know the casino had opened — much less that the bank helped finance it.

  “So, I’m sure you’ve done your research, as any responsible journalist would. What makes you think I’d have any reason to want to hurt the man who helped me make my dreams a reality?” Giovanni asked.

  The last I checked, it was me who was supposed to be asking the questions.

  “I overheard you two on the phone the day before Percy died,” I said. “Something about proceeding to take care of things before the end of business that day.”

  Giovanni frowned and shook his head.

  “That was nothing more than a stuck payment,” Giovanni said. “For whatever reason, the security protocols in place for the transfer of money in this town decided the lump sum I’d attempted to move to Percy was hair-raising.”

  I wasn’t sure I believed it, but I had nothing to prove otherwise, so I nodded.

  “And so you were trying to make sure that your payment processed,” I said. Or because Giovanni was trying to avoid the rate hike Percy had imposed — but I wasn’t ready to drop that bomb yet.

  “Exactly.”

  “Why do you think Percy decided to invest in the casino in the first place? Do you think he was trying to curry favor with you by being an early investor?” I asked.

  “He’s a shrewd businessman, just like me,” Giovanni said, his tone oddly devoid of emotion. It made me wonder how truthful he was being. “But I suspect he was talked into it by Ash Norwood, who was looking for a co-investor.”

  “Wait a second, Ash invested in the casino too?” I asked, puzzled. Xander said Ash worke
d in finance when I met him at The Magic Touch, but I didn’t realize he was a venture capitalist.

  “Yes, they split the cost fifty-fifty,” Giovanni said.

  “So either Ash talked Percy into it, or Percy loved gambling so much that he saw the investment as an excuse to gamble in the open,” I said, watching Giovanni’s face. A corner of his mouth curved upward.

  “Percy did love to gamble,” Giovanni said. "Some might say too much." Several people had already told me that.

  “Was Percy in trouble with you or the casino because of his gambling?” I asked.

  Giovanni knocked back the rest of his drink and poured another before he turned and regarded me with his lower lip between his teeth.

  “What are you trying to say, Miss Clarke?”

  “That I know Percy had a gambling problem and that he did some things he probably wasn’t proud of to support his habit,” I said.

  “Far be it for me to deny that Percy had difficulty controlling himself here — that’s as fruitless as trying to deny the existence of air,” Giovanni said. “Anyone who has set foot in this casino since the day its doors opened could tell you about Percy’s problem, but he wasn’t in trouble with us, as you put it.”

  “Okay. What else might the customers here be able to tell me about Percy?” I pried.

  “That he was a bit of a braggart, no doubt,” Giovanni said, smirking. “Percy thought highly of himself and he wasn’t afraid to share that with anyone who’d give him their ear — not that he gave them a choice.”

  “What did he brag about most?”

  “Drunken nonsense, frankly. He was convinced that something in the bank’s vaults would soon make all his woes disappear,” Giovanni said and my body shot straight up, as rigid and taut as a rubber band ready to snap.

  “Did he ever say what it was?”

  “As a matter of fact, he did. The last time he was here, he was very intoxicated and he’d been losing money for hours. When he’d spent every Moon he had, one of my staff refused to let him play another round on the house, so Percy offered to pay him handsomely after he completed the sale of a valuable necklace,” Giovanni said.

  “What was so valuable about it?”

  “Percy claimed it had magical powers that could make both of them very rich. Like I said, drunken nonsense,” Giovanni said and something in my mind snapped. Were the stories of the magical artifacts that Mallory told me about real? Was the necklace what Victor and Percy had been fighting over before Percy’s death — and was Percy planning to steal it for himself to sell it? Was that why he was killed?

  “Who deposited the necklace?”

  “If the necklace really had such powers, wouldn’t we all like to know?” Giovanni countered with a smile. “Unfortunately, I don’t have a clue. That said, I don’t believe for a second that it’s real. Percy has been known to exaggerate, particularly when it comes to money and objects of worth.”

  “Someone must’ve believed him, though, otherwise he wouldn’t be dead right now. Something like that could drive a person to kill for it,” I said. Giovanni shrugged.

  “Perhaps even a man’s own brother,” Giovanni said and my eyes snapped to his.

  “What are you saying?”

  “There are only two people in all of Moon Grove who know what’s in the bank’s vaults and who owns what: Percy and Victor Thornheart,” Giovanni said.

  “But I was there when the bank was robbed, and so was Victor. He couldn’t have done it,” I said.

  “Maybe that was a front to throw you off his trail,” Giovanni said and I gasped. The anonymous tip sent to me at the Messenger! Did Victor send it to lure me there so I’d see the robbery and think he had nothing to do with it? Had he hired a hitman to take out Percy and steal the necklace for himself? It was a stretch, but it wasn’t inconceivable given the animosity between the brothers.

  “I have to go,” I said and spun on my heel for the elevator.

  “So soon? We were just starting to get to know one another,” Giovanni said.

  “I’m sure I’ll see you around,” I said and smashed the down button. The tunnel hummed as the elevator rocketed to the twenty-fifth floor. It dinged its arrival and I stepped inside, eager to put some distance between Giovanni and me. He was far too slippery for my tastes.

  “Happy hunting,” Giovanni called as he twisted one of his dozen rings around his fingers. I tapped the ground floor button and shivered at Giovanni’s smile as the doors swished shut and the elevator lurched.

  If half of what Giovanni told me was true, the case of Percy’s murder and the bank’s robbery had taken a wild turn — but that assumed a lot. Before I went chasing after a necklace that might not exist, I needed to talk to someone who knew a thing or two about magical artifacts.

  I needed to talk to Raina Woods.

  Chapter Nine

  I dug for my phone in my bag as I left the casino. The screen read 4:17 P.M. There was no guarantee Raina was home — I had no idea what her schedule was as Headmistress of Veilside — but I had to try.

  I punched in my passcode and tapped to fire off a text to Mallory, who’d mentioned something about magical items in the stories her mother used to tell her. Maybe if she and Raina put their heads together, they could point me somewhere.

  >>Me: Hey, what are you doing this evening?

  As always, Mallory answered immediately.

  >>Mallory: I have class at six, but I’m just hanging out in the library at Veilside catching up on my homework until then. Why?

  >>Me: Can you meet me at Raina’s house in the next five to ten minutes or so?

  >>Mallory: I guess?

  >>Me: It’s about the bank robbery. I need your help with research again.

  >>Mallory: Say no more.

  I dropped my phone back into my bag and power walked across town to the Witches’ Quarter and Moonbeam Lane, where Raina lived. My fist thudded against number three’s door and Grandma shouted from inside.

  “Who is it? We ain’t buyin’ whatever you’re sellin’!”

  “It’s me, Grandma, open up,” I shouted back. A moment later, the door flung open and Grandma smiled at me, her white curls rustling like leaves in the soft breeze. She held a worn, faded copy of The Origins of Witchcraft in one hand.

  “Howdy, Sugar. I didn’t know you were makin’ a visit,” she said.

  “Is Raina here?” I asked, ignoring her and her book.

  “I am,” Raina said from somewhere behind Grandma.

  “What am I, chopped liver?” Grandma asked.

  “No, I just need to ask her—”

  “I’m pullin’ your leg, girl. Get in here,” Grandma said and ushered me inside.

  “Wait!” a voice shouted from down the street. I turned as Mallory darted down the path to the door, wheezing.

  “Did you run the whole way here from Veilside?” I asked.

  “So what if I did?” she asked.

  “We ain’t heatin’ the outdoors, y’all. Move your booties,” Grandma said as she pulled us both in and clicked the door shut.

  “Now this is a surprise,” Raina said from the rocking chair she sat in; a pair of knitting needles hung in the air above her lap, magically stitching some sort of blanket together. A small fire crackled in the grate, casting soft red and orange light across the room. Grandma returned to the rocking chair to Raina’s right and pretended to be reading.

  “Shouldn’t you be at work?” I asked.

  “Even Headmistresses need a day off,” Raina said, smiling. “Especially given Circe’s death.”

  My heart cracked at her words. Though Raina tried not to show it, her grief colored her face. How couldn’t it? She’d lost her sister less than a month ago and those sort of wounds wouldn’t heal quickly.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

  “It’s fine, dear. Of course you meant no harm,” she said. “Please, have a seat, both of you.”

  “I’m sorry to barge in on you two like this, but it really couldn’t
wait,” I said as I eased down into the rocking chair beside Raina. Mallory sat on the stone floor beside me and held her hands over the fire to warm them — not that it was cold.

  “I ain’t complainin’. I needed a distraction from this dry-as-hay book,” Grandma said, and I chuckled. Raina had once tried to get me to read The Origins of Witchcraft too and it hadn’t worked out well for me either.

  “It’s not a problem, dear. That said, you never come over without a reason,” Raina said, though she smiled at me. “What is it?”

  “I’m sure Grandma’s told you about the bank robbery by now, right?” I asked.

  Raina nodded. “Yes, you poor thing. You’re both lucky to have gotten out unscathed.”

  “I know. That’s why I’m trying to get to the bottom of who did it and why, but so much of what I’ve found doesn’t make sense,” I said.

  “Such as?”

  “Well, the weirdest thing is that the robber, whoever they are, doesn’t seem to have taken anything in the heist,” I said. “I think they wanted something in the vault, but they weren’t successful in getting it, and that’s why Percy Thornheart ended up dead.”

  “What do you think they wanted?” Raina asked.

  “Until today, I didn’t really have a clue. I went to talk to Giovanni Luca, the owner of the new Stubbe’s Palace Casino, and he told me something that was, well, eye-opening,” I said.

  “The artifacts!” Mallory shouted, her face bright. She was always one step ahead of me.

  “Exactly. Giovanni told me that, while at the casino gambling recently, Percy made mention of some sort of necklace. He tried to work an employee for a free game, and when the employee shot him down, Percy told him he had a necklace that could make them both very rich,” I said.

  “I’m almost positive that the necklace is what the robber was really after, but I’ve never heard of anything like it before and I didn’t want to go chasing after false leads.”

  “So you wanted to see what I might know, is that right?” Raina asked.

  “More or less,” I said, shrugging. Raina smiled as her knitting needles continued their automated work above her lap.