Black Magic Kitten

by Sara Bourgeois

  "Someone's tapping on the glass,” I said. "Why wouldn't they knock on the door?"

  "My guess is that it's not a normal visitor,” Meri said.

  "Should we just ignore it?" I asked.

  "Probably."

  "That's it? Probably?"

  "Yeah, I mean, what do you want?" Meri asked.

  The sound changed from a tapping to a thud like the palm of a hand thumping against the glass. "I'm going to go have a look,” I said.

  I went over to the window with Meri right on my heels. I pulled back the curtain to find Merrill's ghost standing on the other side.

  "He can't come in because of the protection spells around the house,” Meri said.

  "Should I go talk to him? Maybe he remembers something,” I said hopefully.

  "No, you should not go out there,” Meri said. "If he's back, he must have gotten the energy from somewhere. I'd put my money on rage."

  "You don't think I should at least try? I can probably take on one ghost. He only got me last time because he caught me off guard."

  "It isn't worth the risk. I'm sure he doesn't remember the day he died,” Meri said.

  "I'll just open the window, then,” I said. "If he can't come in the house, then he can't come in the window, right?"

  "Maybe put a line of salt across it just in case,” Meri said. "And I'll cast a circle around us. Nothing formal."

  "Okay."

  I went to the kitchen and got the container of salt from the pantry. After I spread a thick line of salt over the window sill, I opened it a few inches.

  "What is it, Merrill?" I asked.

  "I remembered something,” he said.

  "About who killed you?" I asked hopefully.

  "No, not that late in the day. I remember something from that morning. I had to meet with someone."

  "Do you remember who?" I asked.

  "No, but it was a woman. I woman with black hair and blue eyes. I can see her, but I can't remember her name. I think it was on the first floor."

  "Okay,” I said.

  "And you better figure out who killed me." That came out as a snarl. "Or I'll make you wish you were never born."

  "That's about enough of that,” I said and closed the window.

  I shut the curtain and the thumping on the glass started again. Knowing he could only be annoying and not actually come into the house, I went back over to the sofa and put my headphones on. I turned the movie up loud enough that I couldn't hear him knocking on the window anymore. Meri shot me a disgruntled look and darted into the hole in the wall that led into his tunnels.

  The next morning I got up and decided it was time to start taking stuff from the basement over to the shop. First, I had to deal with the stuff in the trailer so I could use it to move stock. I was lucky that I had the rental for a few more days and wouldn't have to pay more.

  I hooked the car back up to the trailer and maneuvered it so the trailer was backed up nearly to the porch. Since no one was around, I used a little magic to make the lifting a little easier. Unfortunately, that was using my magic for personal gain and I ended up with three gnarly paper cuts from the edges of cardboard boxes and I hit my elbow hard on the side of the truck. I didn't dare heal the minor injuries, though, when I realized it was my penalty for using the magic for personal gain.

  I did not use magic to help me load the truck. I didn't want to cut any more of my fingers or end up dropping something heavy on my foot. By the time I had everything loaded, I was already tired and more than ready for second breakfast.

  When I'd been in the Brew Station before, I remembered that she'd had pastries and there were hot breakfast sandwiches on the menu as well. That sounded better than cooking something for myself, so I drove the trailer down to the square and backed it into a parking place. After I unhitched it, I parked the car next to it and headed over to the coffee house.

  It was fairly early, but there was already a tour walking through the square. As I walked into the Brew Station, the scent of fresh roasted coffee beans, bacon, and biscuits filled my nose. My mouth began to water and my stomach growled.

  "Hey, Viv,” I said when it was my turn at the counter. "Do you bake fresh biscuits back there?"

  "Oh, no. I get them fresh every day from the bakery over on West Vine. It's called the Lovin' Oven. It's witch-themed too now, but I'm not so sure about that. Makes me think of baking kids like that fairy tale, but anyway, the woman who owns it is Carla Sparks. She's great, and she makes the best biscuits. She's from the South. Anyway, I use them to put together the breakfast sandwiches on the menu. The tots on the menu are just regular tater tots like from the store, but the oil's always fresh and I use that flaky pink Himalayan salt in them. Makes them extra special,” she said with a wink. "Would you like to try a sandwich?"

  "I would,” I said. "I'd like the sausage biscuit with a large tots."

  "And a hazelnut latte?" Viv offered.

  "Yes, please. Extra-large."

  "Double espresso?" she tempted, and I knew I shouldn't, but I couldn't turn it down.

  "Yes, thank you."

  I left the order area and walked over to the cash register to check out. When Viv was done, she brought my sandwich and tots over in a white paper bag and my latte in a to-go container. She must have seen me looking at them because she said something.

  "I'm sorry if I was too presumptuous. I saw you pull that trailer up to your new shop, and I figured you were ready to work."

  "It's okay. I'm just glad you're not hinting that I'm not welcome,” I said and pulled the cash for my order out of my wallet.

  "Never,” she said with a smile. "I can get you a tray for your food and a mug for the coffee if you want to stay."

  I was about to say that I would stay but the bag and to-go cup were fine, but I saw Meri sitting outside the shop staring in at me. "You know what, I should get over there and get working, but can I trouble you for an extra side of bacon before I go?" I said.

  "Not a problem," Viv said with a smile. "He's a biggun." She saw Meri looking too.

  "He is, and he loves his bacon,” I said. "Of course, I never give him too much."

  "Never," Viv said conspiratorially. "That will be two dollars, and I'll just wrap it up in a piece of parchment for you."

  "Thank you."

  "Hey, and if he wants to come in in the afternoon sometime, I'm sure my regulars won't mind. Sorry, I can't have him in here during the morning rush."

  "Oh, thank you,” I said. "Maybe we will come visit some afternoon."

  I put the bacon in my bag and headed out the door. Meri gave me a look when I exited the coffee shop, but there was a gaggle of tourists headed for the Brew Station, so he stayed quiet until we were across the street.

  "I didn't get a key,” I said. "In the middle of the fray when I signed the lease, I didn't get the key."

  "You also left me at home this morning,” Meri said.

  "You were sleeping."

  "I wasn't that asleep," Meri scoffed.

  "Could have fooled me,” I said. "So, do I just use a little magic to go in and make up an excuse about the place being unlocked, or do I call Castor and wait outside?"

  "I don't care,” Meri said.

  "Sorry, Meri. I did get you bacon."

  "I guess call him and we'll wait. It's nice out this morning. We could eat in the car or over on one of the benches in the square."

  "You're right. We'll eat on a bench. We can tourist watch,” I said.

  Unfortunately, we finished our breakfast and we still had fifty minutes left before Castor was supposed to arrive with the key. I decided that even though it wouldn't go anywhere, we'd go into the courthouse and look for the woman Merrill's ghost had mentioned the night before. Meri couldn't really go in the courthouse with me, so he sauntered over to the trailer. He lay on top of it so he could watch people and bask in the sun.

  Inside the courthouse was a cavernous open area with elevators directly across from the entry doors. Off to each side were
doors that led into offices and hallways that took you deeper into the building. There was also a set of stairs on each side.

  To my left was a small marble counter with a woman seated behind it. There was a sign on the front that said "information". The woman was older with a gray beehive hairdo perched atop her head. Her thin lips were coated in a layer of blood-red lipstick, and a pair of cat-eye glasses sat perched at the end of her nose.

  "Hello,” I said as I approached.

  "The copier is twenty-five cents per page,” she said.

  "What?"

  "It's twenty-five cents per page for the copier. You pay me for how many pages you need, and I'll give you a code. Photocopying is no longer free."

  "Oh, okay,” I said. "I'm not here for the copier. I'm looking for someone."

  "Oh, really?" she asked and leaned in with interest. I got the feeling she spent most of her day explaining the copier fees to people and welcomed the chance to talk about anything else. "Do you have a name?"

  "I don't,” I said. "She has black hair and very blue eyes. I know she works on the first floor too, but that's all I know."

  "That sounds like Madeline Evans. Are you in some kind of trouble?"

  "No, why?" I asked.

  "She's a state's attorney. Go through that door," the woman said and pointed to a door across the lobby. "It's down that hall to the left. You'll see the sign."

  "Thank you so much,” I said.

  "You're welcome. You sure you don't need any copies?"

  "I'm sure. Thanks again."

  I made my way across the lobby and went through the door the information lady had pointed to. It opened into a narrow hallway that reminded me of something in an old hospital. There was light blue tile halfway up the walls and the top portion was painted in a faded ecru. I could even swear I smelled antiseptic, but that might have been some sort of memory triggered by the hallway's appearance.

  Most of the way down the hall, I found a door that said "State's Attorney". Inside was a small waiting area and a counter with a Plexiglas enclosure extending from the top of the counter to the ceiling. It didn't seem like the kind of thing that would be necessary in a small town like Coventry, but maybe it was the kind of thing that was necessary everywhere.

  There was one man seated in the waiting area and he was absorbed with his phone. I approached the counter, and a younger woman with red glasses and her hair piled on top her head in a large messy bun greeted me.

  "Can I help you?" she asked.

  "Yes, I need to see Madeline Evans,” I said.

  "Do you have an appointment?"

  "I don't, but I want to talk to her about the Merrill Killian murder."

  "Give me a moment," the girl said and stood up. "I'll see if she's available. What's your name?"

  "Kinsley Skeenbauer,” I said.

  The woman disappeared into the offices beyond the counter. I could see a couple of doors, but I had no idea how many were actually back there. The area turned into another hallway on either side.

  She reappeared a couple of minutes later. "She said she's got a few minutes. You can go on back."

  The woman pressed a button and there was a button sound. I figured it was for the door to my left, so I tried it and it opened. I walked around behind the counter and stood in front of the woman in red glasses' desk.

  "Which office is hers?"

  "To the right. There's a plaque,” she said.

  It wasn't hard to find, but the door was closed. I knocked once and heard someone say "come in."

  The office was large, and Madeline was seated behind a huge mahogany desk. To the left of her L-shaped desk was a small conference table and six chairs. On the back wall behind her was a huge white board. At the time, it was blank. The only other decoration on the walls was a picture of a cabin in the woods. Calling it a cabin was kind of an understatement. It was a huge two-story log home next to a beautiful blue pond.

  "Have a seat,” she said.

  I sat down at the conference table, and Madeline joined me. There was a stack of legal pads and a cup of pens in the center, but she didn't grab one right away.

  "You said you wanted to talk to me about Merrill's death?" she began. "Do you have information?"

  "I don't, but I heard that he was supposed to meet with you,” I said. "I was hoping you might be able to tell me something."

  She studied me for a moment. "I wouldn't be able to tell you about a case,” she said. "How did you hear about this?"

  It was right then that I realized I had no cover story. I'd heard about it from his ghost, but I couldn't very well tell her about that.

  "Small town. Stuff gets around,” I said with a shrug.

  Madeline eyed me skeptically. "I very much doubt that got around given that he was coming to me because he was worried about even going to the sheriff. But I don't have any idea how you know because I don't know what he wanted. He never made it in that day to talk to me. As you probably know, he died. Maybe you could end up helping me. If you're poking around and you find out why he wanted to see me," she said and turned around to grab a business card off her desk, "I'd like it if you called me." She slid the business card across the table to me. "Does the sheriff know you've got your nose in this?"

  "I think he has his suspicions, but I've managed to mostly steer clear of him,” I said.

  "Can I ask why you're involved?" Madeline asked.

  "Because I found the body and so far, I'm basically the main suspect. I just moved back here, and I'd like for everyone to stop thinking I'm a murderer."

  "That's what I thought,” she said. "You're Amelda's great-granddaughter, right?"

  "I am,” I said.

  "You should know that's the only reason I agreed to see you, and it's the only reason I'm not going to look harder at why you're involved in this. Keep your nose clean and don't ruffle Thorn's feather. I don't want to have to step in."

  "Yes, ma'am,” I said.

  "And don't call me ma'am again,” she said with a laugh. "Is there anything else I can do for you? I've got a meeting with my boss upstate in two hours."

  “Is that where the cabin is?” I said, not able to take my eyes off the gorgeous house and landscape. “I mean, is it upstate or is it around here? I can’t recall ever seeing such a gorgeous house. Sorry, I’m being nosy. I love that photo.”

  “It is upstate. That’s where I lived before they moved me to Coventry. I still own the place, but I’ve thought about selling. I’m just too busy to get up there much anymore. Plus, there’s not much around it. My parents built it thinking the town it’s close to, Norman, was going to get built up. It didn’t. So, it’s a pain to spend much time there because it’s isolated, but sometimes that’s just what a person needs.”

  “That’s too bad. It’s a gorgeous place.”

  “It is. Okay, well I do have to go. Anything else?” Madeline asked.

  "Nope, thank you,” I said. "I can show myself out."

  Meri was still on top of the trailer napping in the sun when I got back. There was also a man I didn't recognize walking down the street in my direction. I assumed he was a tourist until he stopped right in front of the shop.

  "Are you Kinsley?" he asked as I came around the trailer.

  "I am,” I said bracing for someone else to tell me I was a murder, and I needed to get out of town.

  "I'm Jacob Winemaker. One of Castor's properties is across the street from one of mine over in that new subdivision, Cherry Heights. Anyway, he got held up there with a big plumbing thing and asked me to bring you this key. I'm on my way to the courthouse to pull some permits, and I told him I could stop by,” he said and produced a key. "He said he'd get you the other copies as soon as he can."

  "Thank you,” I said and took the key. "Hey, you were the landlord of the guy that rented this shop before me."

  "Yeah, Lance Bleucastle. He skipped out on me and Castor. That's actually how we became friends," Jacob said. "And you're the woman who found Merrill Killian's body.
You know, a lot of people say you killed him."

  "I've heard that,” I said and rolled my eyes.

  Jacob laughed. "Hey, I didn't like that guy at all. He owed me a lot of money, but I guess that's the case with a lot of people. He was supposed to pay me back by selling his house to me on the cheap, but he backed out of the deal when the guy he was supposed to rent a trailer from figured out that he was broke and had terrible credit. I suppose it's my own fault for putting myself in a position where Merrill owed me money. I should have known better."

  "It sounds like he duped a lot of people,” I said.

  "He did, but I'm going to get that house one way or another. Now that Merrill is dead, his estate will have to sell it to pay off the lien Jerry Sprigs put on it. Since there's no mortgage, they might even sell it for the amount of the lien, so I could still cash in on this. It's like it's a win-win for everyone. Well, except Merrill, but whatever. That dude sucked."

  I was a little taken aback, but I tried to keep it from showing on my face. "So, you really didn't like the guy,” I said.

  "Yeah, I didn't, but I didn't hate him enough to kill him. I know that's what you're thinking. I've heard you've been asking around. Too bad you got stuck with that hanging around your neck."

  "Do you know anybody that might have hated him enough to kill him?" I asked. "Everyone seemed to have disliked him a whole lot, but nobody cared enough to put their lives on the line to take him out. I guess I need to find someone that hated him so much that they'd be willing to take the risk."

  "He had a girlfriend, you know? Pretty thing that was way too young for him, but she's not very bright. Obviously if she went for the likes of Merrill. Anyway, I heard he was really mean to her and maybe even got her hooked on meth."

  "Merrill was into meth too?" I couldn't believe it.

  "Dude like that was into a lot of things," Jacob said. "Anyway, her brother probably hated Merrill enough to kill him. He did not like his baby sister being treated that way."

  "Who is she?" I asked. "And who is the brother?"