Witch Trial

I barely slept at all that night. I kept having dreams about being in council chambers with black shadows surrounding me while Oscar Sageblood kept trying to talk to me. I used my powers against him but each time they seemed to get weaker and weaker until I couldn’t keep him away from me.

When I finally woke up drenched in sweat, I gave up trying to sleep.

I needed to stop thinking about witches and genies. Not that the rest of my life was roses, but at least I could see how Ginny was. I hadn’t heard from her since the day we found out Nicole was dead and I wondered if she’d talked to the cops at all since then.

I decided to go get breakfast at the diner and see how she was doing. At least it would give me an excuse to get out of bed and out of the house.

But I didn’t see her when I stepped inside, despite the usual weekday morning crowd. I wondered if she’d taken some time off because of Nicole. I chose a seat at the counter and grabbed a menu.

A minute later, Ginny rushed in, pulling off her coat and pulling on her apron at the same time. “Sorry,” she called to someone out back, then headed behind the counter and stashed her stuff somewhere. She grabbed a pot of coffee and turned around, then realized I was sitting there. “Hey,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you. And I’ll definitely take some coffee.”

“Of course.” She grabbed a cup and poured.

“How are you?” I asked.

She shrugged. “Still here.”

“You heard anything else?”

She shook her head. “You?”

“No. I talked to Gabe Saturday. He was looking into a few things. Besides Chris.”

“Besides Chris? Why?”

I shrugged. “In case there was more to the story. You want them to be thorough, right?”

She sighed. “Yeah. Since they couldn’t help her before, they may as well be thorough now.”

“Have you talked to her family?”

She pulled out a pad and pen. “Yeah. They’re devastated. And I think they’re finally ready to believe Chris might’ve done it. What can I get you?”

I ordered a Greek omelet and home fries.

“You got it.” Ginny disappeared into the kitchen. When she came out again, she started making her rounds at the tables and booths.

I pulled out my phone to check email. A note from one of my suppliers telling me my shipment of fossils was going to be a couple of days late. I also had a missed call from a regular client. I listened to her voicemail—she needed an emergency crystal consult today if I could do it.

I checked the time. Eight thirty. A quick glance at my calendar showed me I didn’t have any appointments until eleven. I shot off a quick text to my client asking her if she could come in at ten thirty. Then I texted Josie to see if she was coming in today. I needed her even-keeled energy. She kept me grounded. And now I felt like I needed to keep her safe.

Josie needed to know about Oscar and his threats, and his potential to open up the can of worms that involved my mother, my sister, and Josie’s presence the day Mazzy was genied. Not that any of us had done anything wrong that day, but I understood what it could look like. The optics, as my dad used to say. At the time I didn’t really understand what that meant, but now I saw the world a whole lot differently. If it looked like we had even remotely tried to hide something it would be bad for all of us. And now we had been put in the unfortunate position of facilitating this story that wasn’t entirely true, because if it came out Fiona was there, it would look really bad.

Finally, I checked the local news site to see if there had been any updates on Nicole’s case that Gabe hadn’t called to tell me about.

There was nothing. I blew out a breath and put my phone down on the counter. I could hear my stomach growling and drank more coffee to quiet it. The side door to the counter opened and a woman walked in. She wore a green power suit that blasted girl-boss energy out into the entire diner. Her fiery hair was curly and untamed. She carried a beat-up black briefcase.

Sylvia Townsend, Nicole’s boss. In the flesh.

I tried not to stare as she walked around the counter and headed for the booth in the back corner, diagonal to where I sat. She slid into the booth, eye on the door, and placed her briefcase on the table. She pulled out her phone and called someone. “They aren’t here yet,” I heard her say. “Make sure we’re sending a bill. Even if it’s just for show.” She put the phone down and opened the menu.

I pretended to look at my phone, keeping one eye on Sylvia. I wondered who she was meeting. As hungry as I was, I hoped my food would take longer so I could justifiably sit here and listen. Then the side door to the diner opened and three men came in. Two of them wore suits and ties, and the other a pair of khakis and a button-down shirt. It took me a second to process that one of the suits was Isaac Brady. He looked a lot different than he had at yoga.

He recognized me at the same moment I recognized him, but as I started to wave hello, he averted his eyes and said something to one of the men he was with, someone I definitely didn’t recognize. But I knew the other man. It was Jackson Bogart, Nicole’s former client.

They walked by me and went straight to the booth where Sylvia sat. She stood to greet them.

“Sylvia,” I heard the unfamiliar man say. “You’re looking well.”

“Hello, Tim. You’re looking like you’re about to regale me with meaningless compliments and a lot of lawyer speak,” she returned. “Mr. Bogart.” The look she gave him suggested she’d hoped she never had to see him again. And Mr....”

“Brady,” Isaac said.

Fascinated, I watched this little power play until they all sat. And realized Tim must be Tim Steele, Nicole’s old boss. Meeting with Nicole’s former client and her new boss. And a guy who possibly had been in love with her. As I tried to process this without openly staring, Ginny set my food down in front of me. “Here you go,” she said.

“Thanks. Hey, don’t turn around, but that crowd in that booth behind you? The young guy on the right is Isaac Brady.”

Ginny frowned. “The one you told me about? Nicole’s coworker?”

“Yes. When you’re walking around, see if you recognize him.”

“I already told you I don’t know him. And why are we whispering?”

I didn’t really know. I also didn’t know why Isaac pretended not to know me, unless it was because he was at a work meeting and he didn’t want to seem unprofessional or unfocused.

“I don’t know. Just go see.”

Another waitress started to make her way over to that table, but Ginny intercepted her. She motioned to a table on the other side of the restaurant. The other waitress didn’t look thrilled, but headed over there. Ginny glanced at me, then walked over to Isaac’s table.

“Good morning,” I heard her chirp. “I’m Ginny and I’ll be your waitress today. What can I get you started with?”

Despite Ginny doing her charming waitress routine, they all still seemed pretty tense. The man Isaac called Tim barely acknowledged her, although Bogart was pretty charming. When she left the table, Tim leaned over and began speaking in earnest to Sylvia. But his voice was low and the white noise around us kept me from hearing anything. Sylvia looked more unhappy the longer he talked.

I picked at my omelet. It was delicious but I was completely unfocused. I desperately wanted to hear what was happening over there.

And I wasn’t sure if it was my powers or just pure luck, but Sylvia’s voice suddenly rose a few octaves, reverberating through the room.

“I don’t care what you have to say. The evidence is the evidence, and I’m recommending we move forward. You’ll be hearing from me formally.”

Tim Steele didn’t like that. He leaned forward to respond, but unfortunately he kept his voice low enough that I still couldn’t hear. Frustrated, I leaned ever farther over on my stool, wishing everyone else in the diner would shut up.

And somehow lost my balance. I probably could’ve done something witchy to keep myself from falling if I’d realized in enough time that I was. But I surprised even myself and landed with a cry on the floor next to my barstool, taking my plate with me. Home fries rained down around me and my omelet went skidding halfway across the floor, landing near Jackson Bogart’s foot.

He was out of the booth in a flash, rushing over to help me up as the rest of the diner finally went silent as everyone gaped at the idiot who’d fallen out of her chair. I was too stunned at my own stupidity to move for a second. Then I felt hands reaching for me as Jackson hauled me up by my armpits.

“Are you alright?” he asked, as Ginny and one of the other waitresses rushed over. I could see Isaac out of the corner of my eye, staring openmouthed at me.

I tried to laugh it off as I straightened my skirt. “Yes, fine, just really clumsy. Thank you,” I added.

Bogart picked up my jacket from where it had fallen, brushing at some splattered ketchup with a napkin, then hung it back on the hook under the counter.

“My God, Vi, what happened?” Ginny exclaimed. “Are you hurt?”

“Just my pride,” I muttered, sliding back onto the stool as the other waitress bent to pick up my plate, which miraculously had broken clean in half. I bent to help her, but she shook her head.

“No, please, sit. I’ve got it. Would you like a ... different seat?” she asked.

“I’m fine. I promise I won’t fall again,” I said, trying to laugh it off as I sat back down.

“I’ll get you some more food,” Ginny said, heading back to the kitchen.

“No, Ginny, honestly, I’m fine,” I said, draining my coffee. “I’m going to go, okay?” I was too embarrassed to stay and try to listen now. Plus they’d probably be hyper aware of me.

Jackson Bogart still stood there watching me. “Are you sure you’re okay, miss?”

I tried to smile despite my embarrassment. “I’m fine. Really. Thank you,” I said.

He nodded. “Anytime.” He went back to his table and sat.

I grabbed my jacket off the hook. And with a cry, dropped it on the floor.

It had burned my hand.