Every Witch Way But Dead Page 20

  As Marc stirred the sauce, I could see he was lost in thoughts of happier times of parties held here when Diane and Becky were alive. The images that filled his head flashed into mine.

  “Do you know who’s in charge of your fan club?” I asked.

  Marc shook his head. “No, our manager is in contact with the heads of the fan clubs. Besides, there are a few fan clubs. Just in the U.S., we have an east coast fan club and a west coast one. Now that you mention it, the detective called this morning asking the same thing.”

  “We’re back to square one. Remember Kara said she saw clefs from sheet music?” I asked. “That could either point to Paul or Cliff. Both are interested in music.”

  Marisa looked over at me as if I had three heads. “Yes, of course I remember. But what are you going to tell the police? That your friend saw musical notes during a meditation, so your killer’s into music, have a nice day?” she asked sarcastically. She turned to Marc. “Do you have any pictures with him?”

  After taking a loaf of Italian bread from the oven, Marc began slicing it in sections. “I looked the other day. The only one I could find came out fuzzy. He’s very camera shy. And he’s quite the lady’s man, too.”

  I accepted a piece of bread with butter, watching Marc methodically coat each piece with garlic. “Speaking of being a lady’s man, I know this will probably sound strange, but—was he very sexual? Cliff, I mean.”

  Marc laughed. “He’s in his twenties, of course he’s sexual.”

  “No, that’s not what I mean. Did he ever mention doing sex magick?” I smiled timidly and tossed the mushrooms into the celery and onions.

  “No, like I said we spoke mostly of music. Perhaps Ronnie would know. They were more into the magickal aspects of writing music. Muses and all that. It’s possible they discussed it.”

  Sampling some olives and cheese, Marisa asked, “I know you two have a contractual obligation, but right now you just can’t take the risk to go on tour. This guy’s determined to get to Ronnie. Can you postpone your travel? Is it possible?”

  “Of course. Now with Becky gone, we can’t even think of traveling. We eventually will have to replace her and Diane, not that they ever can be replaced.”

  “I know what you mean. I’m so sorry Marc.” I didn’t know what else to say. I felt so inept.

  He continued, “I won’t ask anyone to put their lives at risk, either. Marisa, your daughter came by, as you know, a few days ago, and she is fantastic. Her voice has excellent range, her pitch is good. She just needs to strengthen her vocal chords, which will come in time. From what I can see, under any other circumstances I’d love for her to be a part of our musical family. If she’s still interested, when all this is over—if it’s all right with you, I’d give her a chance. She sounds wonderful with—with Karen and Ronnie.” He stared out the window, watching the clouds move in.

  “That’s very generous, Marc, and I really am very grateful. I know Andrea’s interested; she talked of nothing else when she got home. Let’s see what happens. I’m sure it’ll work out. Eventually.” Marisa tried so hard to sound uplifting.

  “Ronnie’s sister is coming to stay with us and we’ve got some other friends as well. Moral support and all that,” he said, stirring his pot of sauce. “That’s another reason I’m cooking all this food. Would you like to stay for supper? Heena?”

  “Of course, that would be wonderful. Nan is working late tonight. Besides, I want to check Ronnie again. Her blood pressure is a little low,” Heena offered graciously.

  “I appreciate the invite, Marc, but we have to get back home. If you want, we’ll do some protection rituals for you both,” Marisa suggested, and I nodded.

  He thanked us. “Sure, that would be great. Seems like we need all the help we can get. Angie, have you received any more messages from my mother-in-law?”

  “No, I’m sorry to say.” I wanted to share with him my feelings about the whole situation, but I thought better of it and declined describing my lifetime in Egypt and ties to the assailant.

  Marc fixed a plate of appetizers. “We’ve got friends all over the globe chanting and doing rituals on our behalf. We just don’t have the strength right now. Ronnie’s in really bad shape. She feels totally responsible. I’m very worried about her.”

  His doorbell chimed and Marisa and I decided it was time to go, now that Ronnie had her sister and friends coming over. We headed for the front door after hugging our friends good-bye. I tried to think of some words of comfort, something that magically would undo all that had transpired, but there were no such words, no charms to cast that would accomplish that grand task.

  “Thanks for coming by,” Marc said as a petite brunette walked in and we made our exit.

  “How is she?” we heard the brunette ask as the heavy wooden door closed behind us.

  Two more cars parked in the driveway as we got into Marisa’s car. I remembered seeing some of the people in the pictures that lined the hallway of the Arthurs’ home and at the May Day party Marisa and I had attended.

  “I’m glad Heena’s there.” I sighed.

  “I can’t believe this is happening,” Marisa muttered, pulling onto the road.

  I certainly had envied Marc and Ronnie’s life at times—the traveling, the freedom, meeting new people—but this was definitely not one of them.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Amethyst is said to bring tranquility. It has been called the “stone of contentment”, and is comforting and calming. This makes it a superior stone for meditation. Its shielding powers can ward off negative energies while draw and augmenting positive ones. Amethyst is an excellent stone to help you cope with sadness and grief. It provokes honesty and worthiness. This makes amethyst a good stone for people in the business world, though everyone can benefit from its effects. Amethyst also incites motivation. It can help you assimilate new ideas, and can help open channel to your true higher self. This makes it a good stone for those in search of spiritual growth. ~ From Angelica Kane’s Book of Shadows.

  He felt wiped out as he traveled up the winding mountain road to the north and away from his home. The energy it took to sustain the glamour was taking its toll. He began to wonder if it was all worth it. He should have gone for the direct kill instead of taking revenge on all the others. He never meant to kill Diane.

  Still, if he hadn’t, he never would have connected with the Kane witch, and that made it all worthwhile. When this was all over, he would do a complete regression. The flashes of the past were like the trailer to a movie and he wanted to see it from start to finish. It would explain her connection to him. And he wondered how she’d been able to project into his rituals. He’d thought he’d put up enough talismans to ward off that sort of occurrence. But for now he still had work to do.

  * * *

  The afternoon sun shone brightly the day I met with Chandra Mercer. She agreed to talk to me about her coven practices and graciously stopped by the shop one day. It was by invitation only; Sean Bennette made the request. We’d cleared an area in the back, up against the shop, with an outdoor table and chairs. When the weather was nice, we’d have lunch out back, al fresco, under the canopy of red maples. This was where I sat and chatted with Chandra.

  Her striking appearance was the first thing I noted. She was petite and thin, but buxom, with long, wavy blonde hair. Her eyes were a radiant green with gold flecks that floated by black pupils. Adding an exotic touch was their almond shape. She had what you would call cat’s eyes, rimmed with thick, charcoal lashes. Full, seductive lips pursed under a slightly upturned nose, which gave her an almost fairy-like quality.

  Flowing sheer fabric draped over one shoulder and gathered at her tiny waist. The remainder cascaded down around her tanned, well-muscled legs. She was a runner, I’d guessed.

  “Hi, merry meet. Angelica?” she asked. Her voice, of course, was throaty and sexy, completing the whole package.

  “Yes—Chandra. Nice to meet you. Thanks for coming. Would you like
some tea or something cold?”

  “I’d love something cold.” She sat down and made herself comfortable, smoothing her skirt as she did.

  I poured us rosemary-citrus iced tea and uncovered a plate of Marisa’s toffee crunch cookies.

  “The police officer said you needed to talk to me. About the ritual?” she asked as she sipped her drink. Appearing well manicured with Tiffany jewelry and a designer bag, she must have made a nice salary.

  “Yes, I was wondering if you remembered anything special about the guy—his eyes perhaps, or body? Anything?” I read her aura. She was very open and honest.

  “I told the cops, it’s the strangest thing, I can’t recall what he looks like. I know he was good-looking. That I remember. I was excited about doing the rite with him. I thought maybe we’d start our own coven. Mine is breaking up, unfortunately.” Her eyes were amazing. It was hard to pick out a best feature on this woman.

  “How’d you hook up with him?”

  She became quiet, shuffling through her bag for a cigarette. “You mind?” she asked.

  “No. Go ahead,” I answered, pushing over an ashtray kept for customers that still smoked. Maybe she wasn’t a runner after all. Most likely she was one of those women who could eat whatever they wanted and never gain an ounce and was born with the body of a cheerleader. Wait until she has kids, I thought, pacifying myself.

  “I’m twenty-eight. I know the pitfalls of answering personal ads. I rely on my intuition a lot. I’m sure you do, too.” She lit her cigarette and took a long drag on it. Her skin won’t hold up if she continues with this habit. I found this inner dialogue amusing.

  “Yes, I do count on my ability to guide me,” I answered, watching her fidget with her skirt once more.

  “He put an ad in a local pagan rag. I answered it. We met for lunch one day and after spending about two hours talking, I agreed. He seemed nice enough. We made arrangements and I told him the only thing I insist on is that he wear a condom. He was a little miffed about that, but he agreed.” She shook her head.

  “So, you do this often?” I probed, sipping my drink, trying to sound innocent and not judgmental.

  “Not really, but as a High Priestess I do partake in the Great Rite at Beltane. Don’t you?” she asked, as if I weren’t a real priestess if I didn’t.

  “My coven is women-based. But I do partake with my husband. In private,” I politely informed her.

  She nodded. “Yes—the Great Rite is always done in private. At least for me it is.”

  “So when did you sense you were in trouble?” I tried to keep the pace going, I didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable and clam up on me.

  “We met at Greenview Park, way in the back by the pond, in the grove. Do you know where that is?”

  “Yes, I’m somewhat familiar.”

  “It was really nice. He had an altar erected and torches lit.” She seemed lost in her thoughts of that evening. “He had wine and incense. We couldn’t have our ritual bath together because I couldn’t get out of work early enough, so we met after.”

  “Do you recall anything about what he looked like?” I pushed on, desperate to find out something tangible. I sensed her apprehension.

  Her hand nervously fluffed her hair. She took another sip of tea. “All I remember was he’s California good-looking, ya know? Like a beach bum, tanned and buff. I really think he had a glamour going.” Her clove cigarette burned in the ashtray. She hardly smoked it. Her skin was safe, for today at least.

  “I agree. If he’s the same guy I’ve been seeing in my visions, he’s definitely got a glamour working because I can never remember what he looks like, either.” I smiled.

  “You’ve seen him?”

  “Yeah, I’ve been drawn into some of his magickal conjuring, psychically,” I divulged to the young woman.

  “So, you’re the real deal after all?” She laughed, putting out her clove cigarette.

  “As real as they get.” I took a cookie and bit into it. Marisa should open a bakery. I offered one to my guest.

  “I’ve read about you in the papers. I had the sense you were legit. It’s especially nice to meet another Wiccan. I’ve been to the shop, but I guess you were off when I came in, I’d have remembered you,” she said as she took the treat from me.

  I chose to take that as a compliment. “Tell me what happened in the grove.”

  “He did the invocation and we proceeded with the ritual—but something told me to keep an eye on him. I got nervous, like I’d made a terrible mistake. Sure enough, I saw the athame raised and just the way he held it—he looked as if he were going to plunge it right into my heart.” Her eyes widened. Once more, she shook her head. “He called out the strangest name, Jamal…Jamil?”

  “Jamila?” My heart skipped a beat.

  “Yes, that’s it.”

  “I need you to think, Chandra, did you hear him chanting at all?”

  The petite blonde shifted in her seat, taking a long draw on her tea. “I must have. I vaguely recall words like, ‘We’ll never part’.” I could see she was reaching back in her memory, trying to visualize that night.

  “With this knife I stab your heart, soon my love we’ll never part,” we unexpectedly said in unison.

  “It’s him. The same guy from my vision,” I exclaimed, standing, full of anticipation.

  “Wait a minute—he said his name was…Lance. I didn’t ask for a last name,” she added. “I didn’t remember that until now.”

  “I knew if we spoke you might recall something else about him. What’s the magazine you saw the ad in?” Leaning over her, I inhaled a whiff of sultry jasmine and vanilla.

  “It was Enchantments News Quarterly, I told the detective that, but you can give them any name. I doubt he gave his real one.”

  “I know the detective that’s assigned to this case and I’m sure he’ll check out the magazine. Is there anything else you remember, a birthmark, scar, a tattoo maybe?”

  The buxom blonde shook her tresses, fingering the length of it, pulling stray hairs and tossing them to the wind. “Wait! He did have a tattoo. A dragon on his shoulder, his left shoulder.” She was all smiles now. “It was in blacks and purples, with red eyes.”

  “Great. That’s so important you remembered this information. He doesn’t know where you live, does he?” I asked the young beauty as she stood.

  “No, that much I know. It’s why we met at the park. Nobody comes to my home. No one except those who are a part of my coven and they, as you know, are like family.”

  “Excellent. You don’t have to worry about him stalking you or exacting revenge.”

  “Mother Goddess, I hope not!” she moaned.

  “Thanks again, Chandra. Feel free to shop around and tell Marisa to give you fifty-percent off on anything you want.” I headed toward my car.

  She called back to me. “Angelica, thank you.”

  Driving down to the precinct, I wondered why I’d gotten myself involved. A little late, I thought. I was already in it. With the sunlight in my eyes, I hardly noticed that Sean had already spotted me while I straightened my skirts and slid out of my truck.

  “Angelica, what’re you doing here?” he said grinning, obviously happy to see me.

  “I was wondering if you found out who the guy was that tried to kill Chandra. I met with her a little while ago and she told me some interesting tidbits.”

  “You want to get a cup of coffee or something?” he asked, heading for his car.

  “Sure.” I followed him to his black Lexus. “Nice car,” I said as I got in.

  He turned the ignition key. “Thanks, so—what did she tell you?” He pulled out of his parking spot.

  “One thing was that she’s done this before. Her hooking up with him—they met for lunch before she actually agreed to anything. Lance, or whatever his real name is, came about from an ad in the Enchantments News Quarterly.”

  “Very good. I’ll check that out. A small publication like that doesn’t have the stric
test regulations as far as personals go.” He drove into the intersection. “I did some preliminary searches and have a list in my office of recent ads in local metaphysical magazines and newsletters.”

  A chill ran through me. “My daughter has a crush on a guy named Lance. What do you think the chances are that this guy is the same Lance?”

  “I don’t know.”

  I dug into my bag, pulled out my cell phone and hit speed-dial. “That girl never picks up her phone,” I moaned. I left a message. “Amber, I don’t have time to go into details now, but I want you to stay away from your friend, Lance. I’ll explain when I see you later. That’s an order, Pookie.” I dropped my phone back in my bag. “Kids.” I sighed.

  He parked in front of a quaint little cafe around the corner. We got out and made our way over to an outdoor table in the glorious sunlight.

  “You eat lunch?” he asked, eyeing the menu, then me.

  “No, I didn’t have time.”

  “Great, then we’ll grab a bite.” He smiled, motioning to the waiter that we were ready to order.

  Sitting back with my face in the sun, I began to relax for the first time all day.

  “I’ll have an iced tea, burger and fries,” Sean ordered, handing the menu to the young waiter.

  “Cajun chicken sandwich on a whole wheat roll and a seltzer with a splash of cranberry,” I said, enjoying the sunshine.

  “So, tell me, Angelica, how’d you become a witch, or is it Wiccan? Which do you prefer?”

  “It doesn’t matter to me, either’s fine… I don’t know—I’ve always been tuned in, I suppose you can say.” I was used this topic of conversation; eventually, it always came up.

  “Really? Since you were a little girl?” He seemed surprised at my answer.

  The waiter brought our drinks.

  “Yeah, I could see spirits since I was small. Like you and your grandma. First, it was my grandparents coming to visit then friends’ relatives. It sort of blossomed from there.”

  I sipped on seltzer with cranberry juice while we waited for our food to arrive.