by A. M. King
“That’s not very funny,” she shot back at her sister.
“Well, that was a very good thing then.”
“Sort of.”
“What do you mean sort of?”
“Well, they still want me for further questioning and asked that I don’t leave town and to surrender my passport.”
“Like witches need passports to fly.” Febe grinned. But the joke seemed to be lost on her aunties. Janvier chuckled though.
“Never mind,” Febe said dismissively. “I’m glad that you weren’t arrested Auntie. I’m really glad about that. I was so nervous when that detective asked you to come down to the station for questioning.”
“No worries, dear niece. Your auntie can take very good care of herself.”
“And her exes.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Aunt Trixie had her hands on her hips.
“You take care of your exes like Al Capone took care of his enemies.”
“Hey, now that’s not fair!”
“Ladies, please.” Aunt Eartha was getting annoyed now. “Now let’s keep things in perspective. The fact remains that someone killed Darla Gosnik and we need to find out who and why. This could be very dangerous if the witch hunters are back in full swing and hunting all modern witches.”
“That’s true.”
Later in the evening, the family had just been treated to a delicious homemade pasta dish by Aunt Eartha with British-styled trifle dessert topped with whipped cream, custard and fresh strawberries with a fluffy cake base. It was scrumptious. Febe felt full for the first time in a while. It was so nice having home-cooked meals for a change and sure beat those cheap packaged noodles on days when she barely had enough to get by on after her student loan payment and rent went through her account. Sometimes she felt like the working poor, just working to exist in the big city on small pay as an intern. But that was all behind her now. She was back home with her peeps in Blackshore Bay.
Ebony, her little four-legged companion was seated cozily by the fireplace in her kitty basket.
Janvier was curled up on the couch, staring into her smartphone like most people these days, waiting for someone to “like” what she just posted on Facebook.
Aunt Vanity was on the far couch, into herself as usual.
Aunt Trixie, who often visited late in the evening before returning to her own dwelling next door, was over by the bar.
Aunt Eartha was seated by the fireplace, too, with a newspaper in her hand.
Febe was seated on the loveseat with her laptop on her lap, scrolling through different search terms on Google. She was eager to get to the bottom of this mystery that could pose a threat to her and her family.
The flat screen TV was on the local news station.
“Our top story today, police still have no suspects in the brutal murder of tabloid queen Darla Gosnik,” the reporter announced. “Gosnik was found at the side of the road just outside the town at the border of Blackshore Bay and Main. Police say that she most likely died of asphyxiation. There were obvious signs of trauma...”
“Asphyxiation?”
“Yeah, when your body is deprived of oxygen with can result in unconsciousness and eventually death, often called suffocation,” Aunt Vanity said.
“I know what that is Miss Vain.” Aunt Trixie rolled her eyes dramatically.
“Hey, that’s Vanity to you,” Aunt Vanity protested.
“All right you two. I’m trying to listen to the newscast,” Aunt Eartha said, her tone laced with annoyance. She was often cool as a cucumber, but Febe felt that she’d probably had enough of her sisters bickering like cats and dogs.
“So someone strangled her?” Janvier said.
“Looks that way,” Febe replied. “What strikes me as odd is why was she there late at night?”
“Or was her body moved there?”
“Good question,” Febe said, “Unless she was lured there.”
“Lured there?”
“Yes. It’s not unusual for reporters to meet the sources of their stories late at night.”
“But in that neck of the woods? There’s a curfew, Sis, remember?”
“I know,” Febe said, tapping her pen to her chin. She’d been scribbling down some notes from her Internet searches. “But there was something about the article Amy showed me that makes me think it could have something to do with that?”
“Florida?”
“Yes. St. Augustine, Florida.”
“What are you doing?”
“Just looking up some notes about St. Augustine and what could have happened there recently that would make her want to meet a source.”
“Okay, you’ve got to look at it from all angles, niece,” Aunt Eartha said.
“What do you mean?”
“It could be anyone who had a motive to want her dead.”
“True. She wrote a lot of mean things about a lot of people on her website. I just read a few things. The comments from readers weren’t very nice either. Oh wait.”
“What is it?” Her aunties eagerly hovered over her computer.
“There was an article written in the last year about Darla’s run-in with the law.”
“Really now?”
Febe scrolled down the screen. “Looks as if she’d been given a parking ticket at one time and she tried to fight it.”
“So?”
“So, she said some unkind things about the parking enforcement officer.”
Aunt Eartha leaned in closer. “James Heart, parking enforcement officer. Oh, another Heart family member. Seems like they have their whole family working down at the precinct. I like ‘em. They’re good folks.”
“But look at this comment.” Febe scrolled down to a J. Smith from St. Augustine, Florida.
The Hearts are good people. They’re all heart, witch is more than I can say for you.
-J. Smith, St. Augustine, FL
“Do you see that? Do you see how that person spelled which?”
“I see. Good catch.”
“They used the witch spelling. Ha! That’s nothing new. Some people do that to be bitchy or to prove a point.”
“But do you think that person knew?”
“Doubt it.”
“Another person wrote she should pay her darn tickets and stop complaining. There’s a good reason they issue tickets.”
“Do you really think that might have something to do with it?” Janvier asked, dubiously. They all hovered on the couch looking over Febe’s shoulder at her laptop now.
“To be quite honest, I don’t know what to think,” Febe admitted. She felt discouraged about the case now. “I don’t think that could possibly be related.”
“Maybe it’s nothing, darling niece. Let’s face it. We may never really know what happened to her. It was late at night in a wooded area that had a curfew for a reason. Bears and all kinds of wild animals are known to be in that area.”
Febe shook her head. “But she had to have circled the article for a reason – and in red ink. Her sister Amy said she never did that unless it was something important. She regarded newspapers as sacred and would never scribble on them. That’s what Amy said.”
“Maybe it was Amy who did it.” Aunt Vanity moved back to her chair and began filing her nails.
“Why would her sister kill her?”
“Oh, come now. We all know what a wretch Darla was to her sisters. She took over the respectable, family-owned newspaper after their parents died and turned it into some cheap tabloid rag. The police should look into the Gosniks and their alibis.” Aunt Vanity continued to file her nails. “I mean the killer would know that she’s a witch. Maybe they pulled off her ring because they didn’t think she deserved it because of her bullying ways and they wanted to throw the cops off the right trail.”
Febe thought about that for a moment. “Amy did seem rather bouncy when we went to deliver the sandwiches for her boardroom meeting. But...”
“But what? There you have it. She’s guilty as sin.”<
br />
“But just because people behave a certain way...”
“Oh there you go with your behavioral science crap...”
“Vanity!” Aunt Eartha called out. “It’s not crap. She does have a point. We need to be more supportive.”
“Fine. Fine.”
Febe felt a headache coming on all of a sudden.
Maybe she really needed to just lie down for a while and not think too much. She had way too much on her brain for this. She’d just lost her apartment, her fiancé and her job this week and now she was back home in her small town and in the middle of a murder. Okay, she didn’t do it and she hoped and prayed no one she knew committed it, but she and her sister Janvier were the ones who stumbled on the body. That made it her business. What if that were she? What if they had been the target and Darla just happened to be in the way?
“You know I do think it was pretty strange that the sergeant just happened to be in the area.”
“Well, of course, darling. He patrols the area.”
“But he was following us.”
“And he was probably wondering what two young women in an SUV were doing at that time of night just on the border of the town, driving on that road.”
“Okay, you’ve got a point,” Febe said, “I just have some trust issues right now.”
“Ha! I knew it. That guy really did a number on your heart, didn’t he? Well, just because you met one slimy guy, doesn’t mean they’re all like that. Most men, especially small town men, are pretty nice,” Aunt Vanity said.
“You should know,” Aunt Trixie snuck in her comment.
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Aunt Vanity placed her hands on her hips, furiously.
“Never mind.”
“Fine, then keep that pucker of yours shut.”
“Excuse me!”
“You heard me.”
“Ladies, please!” Aunt Eartha called out again.
Just then Aunt Trixie got up and swiftly moved, her long cloak swinging and hitting the glass on the coffee table.
The glass was about to fall on Ebony.
Febe panicked, her eyes widened. A strange energy zoomed through her and the cup froze in midair.
The ladies in the room all had their eyes wide open and their jaws on the floor.
What. Just. Happened?
Chapter 16
The next morning, Febe woke up feeling more tired than she’d ever felt before. Of all the inventions and magic in the world, they still couldn’t invent something that could make people just bounce right up out of bed with enough energy, caffeine-free. She’d hit the snooze button one too many times. It was time to get up now.
She yawned and stretched after she pulled the covers from her and swung her feet over the side of the bed.
Her mind was still reeling from what had happened last night.
Did she cause the glass to freeze in midair? Did she really do that?
It totally freaked her out.
Her aunties had explained that she was quite advanced for someone who wasn’t yet fully licensed. They told her that her skills and drive to protect those close to her was superior. Not all witches had the same strengths and gifts.
She certainly did have a gift. That made up for all the crappy feelings she’d had this week.
Was that what happened when her now ex-fiancé tried to pull one over her at his condo after she’d walked out of his apartment? Did the door slam in his face because he was about to do more harm to her? Either emotionally or physically?
She yawned again and placed her feet into her slippers at the bedside. She saw Ebony move a bit at the foot of the bed. Sometimes she slept in her kitty bed, but last night she crept up on Febe’s bed. Probably just grateful to have not had a glass smashed into her last night.
Ebony yawned and told her, “Good luck with your class today!”
“What?” Oh, right her cat could talk. She had to get used to that.
“I can talk, remember? Stop looking so surprised every time I open my mouth and talk like a human. At least I’ve always got useful things to say.”
Febe blinked once emphatically. Ebony was talking a bit more now.
“You need to get used to it, girl,” Ebony said. “And by the way, I owe you big time. Huge thanks for saving my head last night. Though I’ve got nine lives, don’t want to use them all up, you know.”
“Um. Right. Uh...you’re welcome.”
“Oh, and eat well. I’ve been dying to tell you that before I could really talk to you, but better late than never. That crazy junk you ate, packed with caffeine and sugar. No wonder you were always strung out on fatigue,” Ebony said, her tone tinged with a purr.
Okay. My cat’s bitching at me. Like is this for real? My cat’s bitching at me.
Deep breath, Febe. Deep breath.
“Bet you were hoping when you woke up this morning, it would have all been a dream. You would be back at that unappreciative day job with a bitchy boss and sleazy fiancé and low pay and everything in your apartment you can’t even afford and a cat that doesn’t talk back to you, huh?”
“Um. Yeah. You could um...say that.”
“You are what you eat. Remember that? God, it ticked me off watching you eat crap and expecting to feel like jewelry. You want to look good and feel good, you have to eat good.”
“Okay, okay. Got it.”
“Don’t think you do, Sis. Abs aren’t made in the gym. They’re made in the kitchen.”
She rolled her eyes. “I suppose you’ll be following me to the kitchen then?”
“You got it. Madam Techer or Professor Techer is a real stickler for punctuality and preparedness. Better eat well and save your energy because you’re gonna need it.”
“Oh, boy. Will I ever.”
“You’ll do just fine. Besides, it’s not your typical classroom. It’s a cozy Victorian like this one. Class size is small. Usually one student at a time.”
“Oh, well, that’s...different.”
“Yeah, don’t sweat it.”
“I won’t. I’ll try not to.”
* * *
Febe made her way down the corridor to the bathroom. She glanced at herself in the mirror; her ebony hair was all over the place now. She wished she had a magic wand to just tap it to make it look combed.
She grabbed her red toothbrush and scrubbed her teeth in proper motion, thinking about her newfound abilities now. What did this really mean? Was it possible to get her morning routine done without lifting a finger? Nah! That would be silly. Pointless.
She remembered what her sister told her about using magical gifts wisely. Not being able to practice without a good purpose.
That’s it. Practice with Purpose. She would have to remember that. The last thing she would want to do was to get her license revoked before she even got it.
Imagine that! Having a license, a right to practice magic!
It was surreal. Unbelievable. She finished brushing her teeth.
She was a witch now.
She wasn’t the same woman she was the week before. She had to get used to it. Though she felt the same. Except, of course, during the times when she would get intense headaches and then feel this weird zing of energy course through her blood with lightning speed. That was something she didn’t think she could ever really get used to. And just to think that was just the tip of the iceberg. There was more to her life than just that. Sheesh.
After she finished her shower, she got out of the bathroom and toweled her hair and her skin. She felt a cool draft blow into the bathroom.
She glanced at the window, which was closed when she first came into the bathroom this morning. But now...
It was opened.
She walked over to the opaque window and closed it.
“That’s weird.”
She didn’t think much of it at the time but would ask her aunties later if any of them opened the window in the morning. She knew Aunt Vanity loved to have hot, steamy showers. Maybe she opened the window
earlier and Febe didn’t realize it was partially opened, then the October breeze probably blew it wide open. Still, she was on the first floor of the house. It creeped her out a bit.
Right now, her aunties were at the Summer Café tending to customers. They often left early to ensure everything ran smoothly in the morning rush. They had employees open up the café at five a.m., but they liked to get there early, too. When her mother founded the café, she wanted it to be a family business run by the family in a family-friendly environment. Her sisters wanted to keep it that way.
Febe missed her mother like crazy. It had been so long since her mother died now. But she tried not to think about that right now. Ebony just told her to keep her energies topped up and truth be told, she always felt a damper on her energy when thinking about losing her mother.
* * *
After a quick breakfast, Febe left the house and made her way up Chancery Lane toward a house on the hill. Ebony told her it was a cozy Victorian home just like the one they lived in now.
Well this one was an old red-brick Victorian-era house like the one her family lived in, but this one was different. Way different.
It looked a little creepy, to be honest. She didn’t know what it was, but something about it was weird.
The house stood on its own on top of a hill overlooking the bay. It was surrounded by white picket fences all around and had green-painted shutters on all the windows.
She thought she saw someone look out of the top attic window. A woman in a white gown stood at the window staring at Febe as she walked up the pathway. Was that Madam Techer?
As she neared the house, the front door swung open. Another woman stood in the doorway, she had a jovial smile on her face and her arms folded across her chest.
“You must be Febe Summer. I’ve been expecting you.” The woman’s voice was warm and friendly. Her cheeks were rosy red.
She resembled Meryl Streep. Her hair was shiny and blond with some silver streaked in. Her lipstick was red as strawberries. Her eyes were blue as the ocean.
“Hi,” Febe said. She took off her backpack. She didn’t know what to bring, so she just took out her old university backpack with her ring binders. She was told beforehand there would be a lot to take note of.
