Magickal Mystery Lore Page 13

  I quieted my mind and slipped into a meditative state. Drawing energy from the mitochondria in each cell of my body, I recited the spell:

  From here and now to there and then

  Attract not change, nor harm allow.

  Safe passage guarantee to souls

  As well as lesser, mindless things.

  Quick as the proverbial wink, I found myself in the backyard of the Cape. I looked left and right—I was alone. I made my way around to the front without attracting any attention. As I’d anticipated, everyone was glued to the Merlin spectacle. The reporter I’d seen on TV was across the street with his cameraman. Paul Curtis was a block away, conferring with a man I didn’t recognize. Other news vans were arriving and deploying their personnel. Merlin’s little stroll was turning into a full-scale media circus.

  I walked up to the wizard and called his name. No reaction. His eyes remained closed. How on earth had he managed not to walk into a car, a building, or even a telephone pole with his eyes closed? I grabbed his arm and shook it. No reaction. When I let it go, it fell to his side. The reporter was saying that waking a sleepwalker can cause them to be disoriented and have confused, even violent reactions. Terrific, but first I had to figure out how to wake him.

  Paul trotted up to me and without pausing, motioned for me to follow him. I didn’t have any tricks up my sleeve, at least none that I could use in public, so I kept pace with him. He stopped about fifty yards ahead of Merlin and planted himself in the street directly in the sorcerer’s path. I positioned myself next to him. As the wizard approached us, Paul held up his hands and yelled for him to stop. I did likewise. No reaction. He was apparently sleepwalking and deaf. Had he drunk an expired potion? Eaten a toxic berry? There was so much abloom in spring and his knowledge of North American plant species was limited.

  He was nearly upon us, but I held my ground beside Paul, wondering what he planned to do next. He pulled a Taser out of its holder on his belt. “It’s low voltage,” he assured me. But before I could voice my concern, he shot it at Merlin. The wizard and his entire procession quivered like a single organism, but didn’t falter in their stride.

  Paul stowed the weapon, seconds before we collided with Merlin and company. I could tell by the hard line of Paul’s jaw that he intended to stand his ground, even if that meant being trampled by one old man and a horde of cats. He widened his stance; I did the same. The wizard would have to go through the two of us if he didn’t stop. I’d begun to think that maybe he could see where he was going through some third eye magick. At least that would explain why he wasn’t bumping into things.

  Sirens wailed, heralding the arrival of an ambulance. If anyone needed medical attention at this point, it was probably the reporter who’d been keeping pace with us. He was in danger of hyperventilating with excitement about the coming slow-mo collision.

  Merlin’s leading foot came down on my instep, knocking us both off balance. I recovered, but he fell forward, stumbling over Paul’s feet, banging knees with him, and teetering back and forth before going down. I winced when he hit the pavement butt first, but the impact finally woke him. The cats, no longer in his thrall, appeared disoriented as if they’d just awakened from a long nap. Their owners rushed onto the street to scoop them up and take them home.

  The ambulance rolled up to us and two paramedics hopped out to offer assistance. I had a whole new problem on my plate. If they talked to Merlin for more than a minute, they’d come to the conclusion that he was deranged. From what I could tell, he wasn’t badly injured. He didn’t hit his head and since he was already on his feet, he probably didn’t have any broken bones. Tilly’s cooking had padded them well. He didn’t need to go the emergency room. As for the few bumps and bruises, we could heal them better than the doctors could.

  The paramedics were insistent about taking the wizard’s blood pressure, in spite of my repeated efforts to intervene. One of them was trying to hold him still while the other wrapped the pressure cuff around his arm. Merlin was flailing at both of them. They looked like they were performing a Marx Brothers routine with hands flying everywhere. And things were about to go from bad to worse. I saw the look in Merlin’s eyes—he’d had enough and was about to resort to magick. I couldn’t let him turn the EMTs into toads. For one thing, they were only trying to help him. And for another, there were way too many people watching, including a worldwide audience.

  “Stop,” I shouted over their voices. That got their attention. “This man is my cousin. He suffers from dementia. I handle things for him and I’m taking him home right now.”

  “Do you have his proxy or a power of attorney?” asked the EMT holding the pressure cuff.

  “Well no, not with me.” Or at all for that matter. But this scenario had to end with Merlin, Tilly, and me eating brownies in her kitchen. I turned to Paul, who was clearly deep in his own dilemma. He should be supporting the paramedics, but I hoped his heart was siding with me.

  “Officer Curtis,” I said. “Would you please vouch for me? For us?” Paul was a quick study and clearly still had the hots for me. If he could have ridden to my rescue on a white horse, he would have. I felt terrible about using him this way, but I was out of options.

  “Listen John, Eddie,” he said in a good-ol’-boy undertone. “I know this family. I’ve seen the paperwork—it’s on the up and up. If they want to refuse treatment, I’ve got their back. Really appreciate the help.” He’d told a flat-out lie for me. I couldn’t let it ever come back to bite him.

  The taller of the two men shrugged. “You say so, Curtis.” He turned to me, “Miss, if you change your mind later—”

  I cut him short as graciously as I could. “I know, thank you both.” Merlin hadn’t stopped glaring at them. If I didn’t get him out of there in the next few seconds, he was going to give them a parting gift they would never forget. With the help of the viewing audience and the reach of social media it was guaranteed to go viral. There’d be no place on Earth we could hide.

  Chapter 21

  I was helping a local customer when Shannon Bell walked into my shop. She had very white skin and very red hair. Her eyes were the same golden brown as the spray of freckles across her nose. I was sure I’d seen her somewhere before, but I couldn’t immediately place her. I said I’d be with her shortly. She seemed happy enough to explore on her own. After my other customer left, I found her in one of the aisles looking at a jar of fade cream. I asked if I could help her with anything.

  “I was just browsing until this caught my eye,” she said. “Does it really work? The ones I’ve tried, promised a lot, but didn’t deliver.”

  “I can tell you all of my customers come back for more. I know it’s none of my business, so please forgive me, but I hope you’re not trying to fade those wonderful freckles.” A flush rose in her cheeks.

  She laughed. “As you can see, I also need something to keep me from blushing so easily.” I walked toward the end of the aisle and plucked a bottle off the top shelf.

  “This is a blend of passionflower, valerian and other botanicals that should do the trick.” Along with a bit of magick. “I’ll be happy to refund your money on both products if you’re not happy with the results.”

  She grinned like a kid who’s just discovered ice cream. “How can I go wrong?”

  “May I ask what brought you to my shop?” I liked to know if new customers came because of a recommendation or because they were driving through New Camel and were intrigued by Abracadabra’s façade straight out of the Middle Ages.

  “I actually came to talk to you,” she said as I went behind the counter to ring up the sale.

  “Well you’ve got my attention. What about?”

  “Ava Duncan. She and I are—were best friends since the first day of kindergarten.” The scene at the wake flashed into my mind. She was the redhead in the first pew. I nearly pinched myself to make sure I wasn’t dreami
ng.

  “How did you hear about me?”

  “Since Ava died, I’ve been calling the Duncans to check on how they’re doing. Valerie was like a second mother to me. During our last conversation, I asked how the investigation was going. She said the detective on the case treats them like an annoyance and it’s hard to get any information from him. She’s really grateful that you and your friend are on the case too, because you’re a whole lot more compassionate than the detective. Valerie gave me your number in case I thought of something that might help. I didn’t call you, because I wanted to meet you in person before I shared any part of my dear Ava’s life.” Her eyes glistened with tears, but she squared her shoulders and blinked them away. “Can we schedule a time I can come back to talk to you?”

  “Do you still live in the Buffalo area?”

  “Yes, but it’s no problem for me to drive down here again whenever it’s convenient for you. I’d do anything to help find Ava’s killer.” I glanced at my watch. It was eleven. Not that it mattered. I’d already made my decision.

  “Why don’t we talk now if that works for you?”

  “But what about your business?”

  “I’ll take an early lunch hour. One of the perks of being your own boss.” I put the clock in the window indicating I’d reopen at twelve thirty. Since Tilly was out having her hair cut and colored, followed by lunch with friends, Tea and Empathy seemed like a better venue for our conversation than my shop.

  I ushered Shannon into the tearoom and settled her at one of the little tables while I put up water for tea—my aunt’s calming blend.

  “This smells wonderful,” Shannon said as I filled our cups.

  I set the pot on the table and offered her lemon, cream and a variety of sweeteners. We both chose lemon.

  After a few sips, Shannon seemed to relax. The tightness in her voice faded. Her words flowed more easily. “Do you have questions you want to ask me?”

  “I wouldn’t know where to begin,” I said. “You must have certain things in mind that prompted you to drive down here.”

  She nodded. “I’m finding this harder than I expected.” Her lips tipped up in a wobbly smile that flickered for a moment and then died. “I think you need to have all the information possible, but I can’t help feeling a little like I’m betraying Ava and her family.” The tears she’d banished earlier spilled over her lower lashes.

  I grabbed the box of tissues Tilly kept on her counter for times when her readings aroused strong emotions. Shannon took one and dabbed at her wet cheeks. “Liam has had challenges in his life,” she said, “which means every member of his family has had to deal with them too.”

  I wanted to let her tell the story at her own pace and without interruption, but a question found its way past my best intentions. “What kind of challenges?”

  “Addictive behavior. It started in junior high with drinking. The Duncans put him in therapy. He’d do well for a time and then relapse. I felt awful for Val and Teddy—such good people. It wore them down. As a last resort, they’d sent him away to one of those military schools. Whatever they did with him there seemed to work, or maybe he just learned how to hide the problem as he got older. He graduated and even managed to make it through college with a few detours from time to time. Ava was always his champion. Whenever things went south for him, she was there. And he adored her for it.”

  “He’s been in recovery since then?”

  She shook her head and paused to drink her tea. “He traded alcoholism for gambling, thanks to some of his college buddies. At least that was how his parents looked at it. They kept bailing him out of debt. They’re not wealthy people, but they inherited a substantial sum of money when Valerie’s aunt passed on about five years ago. They put the bulk of the money away as a legacy for Ava and Liam. When the gambling got out of hand, they threatened to write Liam out of their will, unless he joined a program. The fear of losing out on the money finally motivated him to find help.”

  I put down my empty cup. “I imagine that didn’t last.” Addiction was a slippery devil.

  “He was okay for a little while. We all held our breath, hoping it would last. Three months ago, he showed up on Ava’s doorstep, desperate for the money to pay off another gambling debt. But she simply didn’t have the cash. She called me after he left that night. She was afraid for his safety. He’d gotten involved with some bad people—people who would just as soon shoot you as talk to you.”

  “Did Liam find the money he needed?” I blurted out.

  “Yes. Somehow he always managed to get what he needed—no doubt another low-life to pay off the first one.”

  “Did he go back for help?”

  Shannon sighed. “What do you think?”

  “Do you know if Ava ever told their parents he was still gambling?”

  “The last time we spoke she was struggling with the decision. She knew that telling her parents would break their hearts.”

  “Do you think it’s possible that Liam killed her to keep her from telling them?”

  She shook her head. “Their relationship was the one good thing in his life. I just thought you should have a complete picture of Ava’s family. The Duncans are reluctant to speak about Liam’s problems. They think they’re somehow responsible for his failures.” She finished the last of her tea. “Is it okay if I help myself to a refill? This tea is awesome.”

  “Enjoy. I can always brew more.” Shannon refilled her cup, adding a spoonful of honey this time. “There’s something else I want to ask you, but if I’m getting too nosey, don’t be afraid to tell me so.”

  Shannon laughed softly. “I imagine private investigators have to be nosey to do their jobs. Besides, now I’m curious about this question of yours.”

  “Were you aware Ava was having an affair with a married man?”

  Shannon nodded. “Ava was terribly conflicted about it. She was a good person who would never choose to hurt another soul. When she started seeing Elliot, he swore to her that he was divorced. She fell hard for him and she was devastated to learn he was married. She was determined to break it off, but he just wouldn’t leave her alone.” I had trouble feeling any sympathy for Ava. Shannon must have seen it in my eyes. “You know his wife, don’t you?” she said.

  “Yes, I know Dani, and their children, and her mother.” It was hard to keep the bitterness out of my tone. Neither of us spoke. I’d put her in a difficult position. Her loyalty was with her best friend who wasn’t around to defend herself. I would probably have felt the same way if I were in her shoes. I had to remind myself that Shannon wasn’t responsible for Ava’s behavior. As Morgana liked to say, don’t shoot the messenger. I liked Shannon and I was grateful for her help and candor. Before the silence became unbreakable, I had to set things right between us. “Let’s close the door on that aspect of Ava’s life,” I said. “We’re not responsible for anyone’s behavior but our own.”

  She looked relieved. “Done and done.”

  “I have one last question. Do you know Brock Davenport?”

  “Sure, he was Ava’s boyfriend before Elliot wooed and won her.”

  “Do you think Brock loved her?”

  “So he said, over and over again. And maybe he did. The thing with Brock is the drama—everything is overblown. I suppose that’s the actor in him. Sorry if I sound cynical. I was glad when she broke it off with him. Until she told me he was stalking her. He claimed he just wanted to protect her, because he knew how dangerous men can be.” Her words set off chills in my spine. “I was scared for her, so I did some homework and found out that there were two orders of protection against him from two other women he’d dated.”

  “Did he ever hurt them?”

  “I don’t think so. He was never arrested or charged with disobeying the orders.”

  I brewed more tea and we talked for a while longer about more mundane subjects. I than
ked her for coming to tell me about Liam. She thanked me for trying to find justice for her best friend.

  When she left, I called Travis to give him a play by play of her visit.

  “It’s crazy what you find when you scratch the surface of an ordinary family,” he said. “Liam clearly had a motive to kill his sister.”

  “I know, but Shannon said he and Ava were very close.”

  “I’ve found you can’t put too much stock in the opinions of friends or even family members. The closer they are to the situation, the more their perspective is tainted by emotion. But I have a contact up in Buffalo who might be able to help us out.”

  “Why am I not surprised?”

  “I met the guy when I was doing a piece on biometric hand scanners. His company makes them and services them. They’re in most of the big firms now. If Liam’s place has one, my guy could find out if he was at work the day his sister died.”

  Chapter 22

  On Tilly’s first free day, I asked her to fill in for me at Abracadabra so that Travis and I could put our plan in motion. She was tickled to be part of it, if only vicariously. I’d called Brock Davenport a second time, using a phony name, and a phonier southern accent. He’d sounded suspicious at first, possibly because another recent call requesting an interview was still fresh in his mind. But once I explained that I was a freelance writer doing a piece on local theater and the actors who keep it alive, his qualms seemed to fall away. Publicity was a powerful lure, especially to a man who believed he was meant for stardom, but hadn’t yet found the means by which to climb that slippery ladder.

  The interview meant another trip up to Buffalo for Travis and me. We were glad Ava was murdered in May and not February, although I don’t think she would have been happy with either choice. We hoped to make the roundtrip in one day. Travis’s schedule was hectic and I didn’t want to impose on my aunt more than necessary. It was certainly a doable, if not tiring, drive. And if it led to catching a killer, the hours in the car were a small price to pay.