16

Family Ties

We sat in the living room, Eugene and Violet pressed up against each other in a way that told me everything I needed to know about their relationship, while I occupied the easy chair.

Not that there was anything particularly easy about my state of mind right then, although I found myself incongruously relieved that I’d taken to sleeping in loose tank tops and yoga pants after I started cohabiting with Archie, rather than going to bed in a pair of panties and nothing else the way I used to back in L.A.

“You did it,” I said, my tone flat.

“Did your psychic powers tell you that?” Eugene asked with a sneer. He resembled his brother a good deal, although he had a head of thick black hair, very unlike his brother’s shaved pate. Somehow, he managed to be even less attractive than Lucien.

“I don’t need psychic powers to put two and two together,” I said coolly.

Violet sent me an evil little smile. “Eugene has always been really good at hiding his powers. Lucien had no idea that his little brother was actually stronger than he was.”

“And so you decided to murder him so you could inherit everything?”

Eugene shrugged. “‘Murder’ is a very strong word. Let’s just say that I thought it was a good time for my big brother to move on from this life to his next turn on the wheel of existence.”

“But you still wanted the money.”

Violet’s expression turned condescending. “Well, duh. Except the problem was that Lucien had made Athene his heir, and Eugene would only inherit his money if she was dead, too. So we had to take care of that problem as well. Luckily, the both of them being here in Globe and away from all the protection spells they’d cast on their homes back in L.A. was all the opening we needed.”

While that revelation made some sense, I couldn’t ignore one inconsistency in the narrative. “But you helped him cast a protection spell on Friday night,” I pointed out. “Athene told me about it.”

“Using sex magic,” Violet replied before adding with a smirk, “I faked it.”

Ah. Well, if she’d pretended to have an orgasm, then the spell wouldn’t have been solid…and it would have left both Lucien and Athene open to magical attack.

“And where do I come in?” I asked, doing my best to sound calm. I had to guess they didn’t mind telling me the truth because they planned to get rid of my troublesome self as soon as I’d done whatever it was that they needed from me.

The couple exchanged a glance. Looking at them, I had to wonder how they’d managed to conceal their relationship from Lucien. The man had his faults, but no one could have accused him of being imperceptive.

On the other hand, he also had an ego the size of the Titanic. Most likely, he hadn’t seen the signs because he couldn’t allow himself to believe that anyone would prefer his far less talented and charismatic brother over himself.

Except Eugene had turned out to be just as powerful after all.

He frowned. His eyebrows were as sparse as his brother’s, an odd contrast to his thick hair. Maybe he’d had a little help in that department, either via some kind of enchantment…or a lifetime membership in Hair Club for Men.

“Lucien hid his will,” he said. “I’ve looked everywhere, and I can’t find it. He must have put some kind of concealment spell on it.”

“What makes you think I would know where it is?” I asked. “Lucien never mentioned a will to me.”

“Maybe not, but you can talk to him, right?”

I stared at Eugene in consternation. How could he know that?

Looking smug, he went on, “Yes, I was down by the river when you had your little tête-à-tête with my dearly departed brother. Poor guy was having a hard time getting the words out, wasn’t he? But you still could hear him.”

Too bad I didn’t understand what he was trying to tell me until it was too late, I thought. If I’d only put the pieces together even ten minutes earlier….

But that couldn’t be helped now. I had to pretend to go along with their wishes until I could come up with a way to extricate myself from the stickiest situation I’d ever found myself in.

“So…you want me to talk to Lucien so he’ll reveal the location of his will?” I asked.

“Exactly. Then we’ll go back to Los Angeles, and you can go on with…well, whatever it is you’re doing in this useless little town.”

I bristled with indignation on Globe’s behalf, although I knew I had far bigger things to worry about than Eugene Dershowitz impugning my adopted hometown’s reputation. Maybe I wasn’t exactly familiar with how cold-blooded killers operated, but every instinct was telling me that he was lying, and that he and Violet had absolutely no intention of allowing me to keep breathing after I’d given them what they wanted.

And actually, I didn’t need instincts, not when I could see the flicker of murderous blood-red points all through Eugene’s murky aura. Violet’s wasn’t much better, although the odd little yellow and orange surges through her aura seemed to indicate more amusement at watching me squirm than simple bloodlust. Nice of that particular gift to make an appearance now, although it would have been a lot more helpful when Violet first appeared at my apartment.

“So, we’re going back down to the river?” I asked. That notion didn’t sit very well with me, mostly because Eugene had already proved that he thought it was a great place for a quiet little murder.

“No,” he replied, and relief flooded through me. “I don’t want to give anyone a chance to interfere. You’ve got a crystal ball, right?”

“Yes.”

“We’ll use that to contact him. Go get it.”

I wanted to tell him he couldn’t order me around like one of his brother’s GLANG lackeys, but I realized I didn’t have much say in the matter, thanks to my current situation. Without replying, I got up from the easy chair and headed into the office. Eugene followed, probably to make sure I wouldn’t try to call for help.

The image of my phone lying on the table next to my bed passed through my mind, but I knew there was no way I could slip into the bedroom to grab it, not with Eugene like an evil shadow on my trail. I turned on the light in the office, murmuring a silent apology to Archie for barging in like this, although I didn’t see him in his bed. Well, he also liked to curl up on the rug in front of the stacking washer/dryer in the laundry room, so maybe that was where he’d headed.

I hoped so. This night might be my last on earth, but I didn’t want poor Archie sucked into the whole sorry mess. He already had enough to worry about.

Silently, I went over to the altar and lifted the crystal ball and its stand from the table. I hated letting Eugene see that sacred space — altars tended to be private, although I hadn’t had a problem with Calvin getting a look — but I doubted he would have heeded any requests to stay in the hallway.

“Back to the living room,” Eugene commanded, and I stalked past him, head held high. Maybe he planned to kill me in some gruesome magical way after I’d given him what he wanted — ritual sacrifice or something — but I wasn’t about to let him see how shaken I was.

When we got back, I noticed that Violet had changed out of the oversized T-shirt I’d lent her and back into the black dress she’d been wearing when she first turned up on my doorstep. If only the universe had sent me a sign that she was up to no good — a tingle down my back, or even something as simple as the call dropping so she couldn’t ask to come over.

Not that she would have given up so easily.

I set the crystal ball down on the coffee table. Eugene didn’t sit, but remained hovering near my elbow. I was just about to tell him to back off, that I couldn’t focus with someone so obviously invading my space, but then a flicker of an idea passed through my mind.

No way of knowing whether it would work, but I had to try.

I closed my eyes and placed my hands on the crystal ball, doing my best to put on a good show. Actually, the last thing I wanted to do was contact Lucien’s ghost. My crystal ball had now resonated with my Grandma Ellen’s spirit for so many years, I honestly didn’t even know whether it would allow me to communicate with anyone else. Even if it did, though, I didn’t want Lucien’s presence entering it, fouling it. My cleansing rituals were usually very effective, but I somehow doubted they were up to the task of scrubbing Lucien Dumond out of the crystal’s intricate lattices.

And you know, that crystal ball had been very expensive. I really didn’t want to be forced into buying a new one.

If I survived all of this, of course.

Lucien,” I breathed, trying my best to sound sepulchral. I always spoke to Grandma Ellen in normal tones, but obviously, Eugene didn’t know that. And even though I couldn’t see her with my eyes shut, I sensed that Violet had moved toward the edge of the sofa, was perched there as she watched the scene with avid eyes.

Well, obviously, she’d be eager. Who knew how many millions of dollars were on the line?

What I heard next wasn’t Lucien’s reedy baritone, though, but my grandmother’s no-nonsense tones.

Get him, sweetie!

I didn’t even stop to think. My hands tightened on the crystal ball, and I lifted it from its stand and swung it right at Eugene’s head.

The ten-pound crystal connected with his skull with a crack that made me wince. He let out an oof! and staggered backward before tripping over the edge of the rug. Balance lost, he went down like a ton of bricks, head hitting the hardwood floor with another loud crack.

“You bit — ” Violet began, lunging up from the couch so she could grab my arm.

Before she could even finish the epithet, a blur of gray fur landed on her head, hissing and biting and scratching. She let out an unholy howl, hands flashing up to protect her face. Blinded, she tripped over the coffee table and went flying, landing with a clatter on the fireplace tools I had sitting by the hearth, right before her head smacked into the glass doors that protected the fireplace. Her body went slack, and then the front door to the apartment flew open.

Calvin’s voice echoed down the hall. “Selena! Are you okay?”

Hands shaking, I put the crystal ball back in its stand. I glanced over at the cat, who was now sitting on the sofa, looking very satisfied with himself. “Thanks for the assist, Archie.”

“You’re welcome,” he said primly. “I hope you’ll remember this the next time you’re buying me treats.”

About all I could do was shake my head. Then I raised my voice and said, “I’m okay, Calvin. But I think we’ve got a bit of a clean-up on Aisle Four.”

He hurried into the room, then stopped short at the sight of Eugene passed out on the floor, and an equally unconscious but also bloody Violet Clarke with her head halfway into the fireplace. “What the hell happened?”

“Our perps got greedy,” I said.

“Violet was the killer?” he asked, expression disbelieving.

“Accomplice,” I told him. “The actual murderer is Eugene here. Eugene Dershowitz,” I added. “Lucien’s little brother.”

“Damn.” Calvin shook his head, then sent a worried glance down at Eugene, who’d just let out a moan and began to stir. “And here I left my handcuffs at home. Do you have any zip ties, bungee cords…a spare extension cord?”

“I have some extension cords,” I said. “Let me go grab them.”

Luckily, I’d stored them in the catch-all drawer in the kitchen, so it didn’t take me any time at all to go grab the cords — left over from my move, when I wasn’t sure how many I would need — and hand them over to Calvin. With grim efficiency, he bound Eugene’s hands, then went over and extricated Violet from the fireplace as gently as he could. She groaned, her face a mass of bloody little cuts. They’d heal eventually…but I had a feeling they’d leave quite a few scars.

Karma could be an efficient but ruthless teacher.

Then Calvin was on the phone, calling for an ambulance, calling Globe P.D. so they could get a couple of deputies over to the apartment. I was glad of the way he’d taken over the situation, the way he knew exactly what to do. My hands were shaking so badly, I didn’t know whether I could have even dialed 9-1-1.

From inside the crystal ball, my grandmother winked at me. Good work, my girl, came her voice, sounding in only my ears.

Thank the Goddess that none of the cops who showed up could hear it.

I wandered down the riverbank to the hidden little beach where Lucien Dumond had died at his brother’s hands. I wanted to tell him myself what had happened, that justice had been served and there was no longer any need for him to linger on this plane.

Quite possibly, he already knew, but I still felt like I had a duty to give him some closure.

Or maybe the only closure I needed was for myself.

Eugene Dershowitz and Violet Clarke were both in jail, awaiting a court date. According to Calvin, both their families had descended on Chief Lewis, demanding that they be released on bail. But Lewis, hard-ass that he was, said the judge had determined they were both flight risks, and so they would remain locked up until they had their day in court.

And since they had an eyewitness who had heard both of them confess to the murders of Lucien Dumond and Athene Kappas, everyone figured it was going to be a very short trial. It also sounded as if Violet was angling for a reduced sentence in return for her cooperation — her lawyer was leaning heavily on her youth and the fact that she didn’t have any priors — but so far, it didn’t seem as if the local D.A. was inclined to go along with that plan.

“Lucien?” I called out, my voice questioning. I didn’t want to be too forceful; if he’d already moved on, then I didn’t want to do anything that would draw him back to this place.

But there he was, shimmering into existence a few feet away from where I stood. His ghost looked hearty enough, with color in his cheeks and even a faint smile on his lips.

“Selena,” he said.

“I hope I didn’t disturb you.”

He shook his head. “No, I was actually getting ready to move on, but I sensed you wanted to talk to me.”

“I guess I just wanted to know you would be okay.” When he was alive, I had definitely not been one of Lucien’s fan club, but I still hated the thought of him being trapped in this place forever. He’d definitely been a schmuck, but I still didn’t believe he deserved to be murdered by his brother, nor plotted against by a woman he’d thought cared for him.

Or maybe he had. The universe had dispensed its own justice in the end.

“I am okay.” He paused there, still smiling. “Or at least, I’m starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. At any rate, I think I learned a few things from this life.”

I had to hope I would be that philosophical when the time came. Being dead did seem to give a person new perspective.

“Well, that’s good,” I replied. “And I think Eugene and Violet will be going to prison for a long time.”

Those words only elicited a small shrug. “I’m not sure that will allow them to learn the things they need to learn, but that’s their own path to take.”

I sort of hated to ask, but since this might very well be my only chance to get the facts straight from the horse’s mouth — so to speak — I said, “Where’s the knife? Calvin didn’t find it in Eugene’s possessions.”

“In there.” Lucien pointed toward the glinting waters of the San Ramon River. “He threw it downstream after he wiped it clean.” A pause, and then he added, “It was sort of strange to stand here and watch him do that, even as I realized I was dead.”

“Yes, I suppose it would be,” I said carefully. He didn’t look overly troubled by the recollection, but still. “And Violet’s medallion?”

Not even a blink. “Just as Eugene attacked — and she stood and watched — I reached out and pulled it off her neck. She didn’t deserve to be wearing it, the little traitor.”

No, I supposed not. But at least his reply cleared up that part of the mystery.

Lucien went on, “Of course, the irony of the whole situation is that the joke would have been on them even if they’d been successful in their scheme.”

I tilted my head at him. “I don’t understand.”

His mouth twitched slightly. “Before I left to see you here in Globe, I had my will changed. I’d begun to sense that Eugene possibly wasn’t the best person to have as my fall-back heir, for reasons that are now obvious. My lawyer rewrote the will to name you and Athene as my two beneficiaries.”

For a second or two, all I could do was stand there and stare at him. He smiled back at me like a tattooed Buddha. “W-what?” I finally managed. “And Athene was on board with this?”

“Well, she thought I was slightly mad, but she also said it was my money to do with as I pleased.” Lucien stopped there and flicked an imaginary piece of dust off the sleeve of his black shirt. “Of course, since she’s now gone as well, it will all go to you.”

I thought I needed to sit down. There was an old tree stump not too far from where I stood, so I made my way over to it and shakily lowered myself to a sitting position. “What am I supposed to do with all that money?”

“Whatever you want. Keep it, give it away — it’s all the same to me.” He sent me another of those enigmatic smiles. “I think we would’ve made a good team, if you’d given me a chance.”

I had my own doubts on that topic, but I didn’t feel like arguing with a ghost. If he wanted to drift off to his next spin on the wheel thinking that we would have made a love connection in this life, so be it.

“I’ll figure something out,” I said.

“I know you will — and you’ll be hearing from my lawyer soon. Goodbye, Selena.”

He faded away, leaving me sitting there alone on my tree stump.

Well, then. Apparently, I was going to be a millionaire.

I didn’t quite know what to think about that.

Calvin came up the stairs just as Brett Woodrow was leaving. The two men nodded at each other, and Calvin gave me an inquiring look as I shut the door behind him.

“He was giving me an estimate on replacing the fireplace doors,” I explained.

“Right.” He glanced over at the fireplace in question, which didn’t look too bad, since Brett had removed the remnants of the shattered glass, leaving it bare-faced for now. Because we were heading into late spring and then summer, I wasn’t too worried about not being able to use it. The replacements would be installed long before the weather got cold enough for me to have a fire.

“How was your trip to California?” Calvin asked then. He looked oddly diffident, as if he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to act around me.

But then, he wasn’t the only one who’d been doing that same tiptoeing. I think everyone assumed that since I’d inherited vast sums of money from Lucien — and because he was out of the picture permanently — I’d just naturally want to move back to California.

However, I’d known almost as soon as I stepped off the plane at Bob Hope Airport in Burbank that I’d made the right decision in moving to Globe. I still had a lot to learn about small-town living, but I could tell it was the right fit for me. I’d met with Lucien’s lawyer and a financial consultant and the real estate agent who was handling the sale of his house, stopped in to see my mother and her husband, and then gotten right back on the plane. The whole trip had taken less than the space of a day, but I still felt as though I’d been away from Arizona for too long.

“It was fine,” I said. “A lot of loose ends to tie up, but things are progressing. I’ll get it figured out eventually.”

I’d decided not too long after my meeting with Lucien’s ghost in the woods that I didn’t want to keep most of his money. Enough so my already plump cushion would be padded that much more, but I’d already started dispensing large chunks of the rest of it to my favorite charities. Quite a bit more would go to local causes, like Josie’s theater guild and the high school, which was in desperate need of a new auditorium.

Things like that. I had no idea whether Lucien would be amused by my altruism, or irritated that the empire he’d built during his lifetime was being broken up so easily.

Quite possibly, a little of both.

Calvin’s expression was unreadable. “What does it feel like to be a millionaire?”

“The same, I guess,” I told him. “I don’t think it’s really sunk in yet. Probably a good thing.”

“Hmm.”

He’d sent me a text asking if he could come over, and of course I’d said yes. Now, though, I had to wonder exactly what it was he’d had in mind.

“I was thinking,” he said, then paused.

“‘Thinking’?” I prompted him.

A flash of that knee-weakening grin. “You made dinner for me the other day. It just seems like I should return the favor.”

Was he suggesting what I thought he was suggesting?

“Problem is,” he continued. “I’m not much of a cook. So, I was kind of hoping you’d let me buy you dinner.”

I placed my hands on my hips. “Calvin Standingbear, are you asking me out on a date?”

He appeared to consider, then nodded. “I think I am. If that’s all right with you.”

Smiling, I said, “Oh, I think that’s very all right.”

“Good,” he said. “Tomorrow at seven?”

“Sure,” I replied, feeling somewhat dazed.

He moved closer. Closer. Was he intending to seal the deal on the promise we’d made a moment earlier?

It sure looked like it.

Then he bent and placed his lips on mine. A rush of heat went through me, and the room seemed to spin slightly. That was all right, though, because his strong arms had gone around me, holding me close.

The kiss lasted for an eternity or so. Then he let go and smiled slightly.

“See you tomorrow.”

He didn’t say anything else, only tilted his head toward me before heading off toward the door.

As soon as he was gone, Archie stuck his head around the corner. “Are you going out to dinner with that man?”

“I guess I am,” I replied, my head still spinning from Calvin’s unexpected kiss.

The cat frowned before asking sourly, “This is going to lead to sex, isn’t it?”

I stared at the door Calvin had disappeared through just a moment earlier.

“I sure hope so,” I said.

Hedgewitch for Hire continues in Social Medium. Turn the page for a sneak peek!


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