Witches and Whatnots: An Izzy Cooper Novel (10 page)

“What are you trying to tell me?” That toxic brew was reaching into my throat, threatening to choke me.

“I was too much of a coward to tell you the truth … so I convinced a vampire to compel you to forget. When I first saw you again, I wanted you to remember, but then you did and I realized we were headed in the same direction. We were going down a one-way road to disaster, but I couldn’t deceive you again.”

“Really?” I wasn’t sure if I was more hurt or angry. “Was it Jasper that you got to help you?”

If he’d had Jasper take care of me, I’d boil him where he sat.

Elias shook his head. “It was a vampire I met on the mainland … but I suspect he handed you over to Jasper when he was done. I’m so sorry, Izzy.”

Abruptly, I realized he was still holding my hand. I yanked away. “Well, I’m happy to hear that I meant so much to you that you actually had to have a vampire take my memory of you away.”

“You don’t understand. If I’d married you, the pack would have torn you to shreds. I couldn’t let that happen, but you were so insistent.”

There was a sour taste in my mouth and my appetite was gone. Pulling money out of my purse, I set it on the table.

“I’ve got it. Don’t worry about it,” he insisted.

“I’m good. Paying for my own meal is the least of my worries right now.” Jumping up, I fled the Grill without looking back.

I just hoped I could go on with the rest of my life without looking back.

The pain was there, no doubt about it, but it wasn’t as sharp as I would have expected. Maybe deep down inside I’d always known that Elias had pushed me away. It made sense.

When I returned to Mystique Island, I’d had no memory of my teen romance with Elias. I’d remembered that I’d liked him a lot, and that I’d followed him all over the island, but the rest of it had been a blank.

For all those months that I’d been back, he’d made no effort to remind me of what we’d had.

Had it really been for my own protection, or was his status as the alpha more important?

It wasn’t a question I was going to spend too much time pondering.

Safe inside my little cottage on the beach, I locked the doors. Normally I wasn’t one to lock the doors as soon as I stepped inside. It wasn’t so much that I didn’t think it was a good idea, but it seemed a little paranoid to me, especially for someone in my position.

But tonight was different. It was the eve before Halloween, and there was something in the air that didn’t feel right.

Dropping the books and files on the kitchen table, I dashed to the bathroom for a quick shower. I needed some comfort, and a hot shower and warm pajamas just might do the trick.

After making a cup of French Vanilla cappuccino, I focused my attention on the files and books I’d deposited on the table. Going over case files and reading books wasn’t an ideal way to spend the evening, but it would keep my mind off Elias’s betrayal.

The kitchen clock measured the passing time as I delved into the case files, looking for anything that might connect the victims, but other than them all being male, the only connection seemed to be a woman.

Two of them had been spotted with a woman just before being killed. If there was one thing that most all males had in common, that was their servitude to their instincts.
When you added the fact that a woman had probably been involved, the
succubus
theory made even more sense.

Tired of looking at autopsy reports and crime scene photos, I placed the files in a neat stack and turned my attention to the books.

The book with the history of the Mystique was fairly basic. It told the story of how Captain Beaufort gathered special people to make the voyage to another settlement, and how the founding fathers committed mutiny, though it was put a little more eloquently than that. The book went on to tell how they were knocked off course by a storm, but fortunately the ship went down near Mystique Island. Those who were lucky enough to make it to shore decided to settle the island.

There was a painting of the Mystique, and a couple of the founding fathers, but none of Beaufort, or most of the other passengers. It would have been nice if they’d had some kind of photo technology at the time.

Finding nothing new, I picked up the other book. This one had photos of Mystique Island from the late 1800 through recent times. There were several photos of different locations and people, taken at different time periods.

My eyes fell on an old black and white photo of the lighthouse. In front, there was a group of schoolgirls, huddled together and smiling for the camera. The front row was holding up a banner that read, Class of 1948.

I almost turned the page, but then something caught my eye. One of the girls in the back wasn’t smiling. In fact, she seemed a little annoyed to be getting her picture taken. That’s when I realized that the girl looked just like Tanna, the Black Moon witch.

The girl didn’t just look like Tanna, she
was
Tanna, but when I looked at the names beneath the photo, it had her listed as Betty Hansen.

Hmm. Something was fishy. Unless this was some relative of Tanna’s that looked so much like her that they could be twins, it was Tanna. I knew Betty Hansen was over eighty years old and a resident at Sunnyside.

So it looked like a trip to Sunnyside was going to be first on my agenda for Halloween morning.

Turning the page, there was another black and white picture of the docks, but before I could examine it too closely, I was startled by a scream outside my kitchen window. Dropping the book, I jumped from the chair.

There was another scream and a loud crash.

I went straight for my gun, which happened to be inside the purse I’d carelessly placed on the seat of the recliner.

Tiptoeing to the living room, I listened for more screams, but there was nothing. Grabbing the gun out of my purse, I switched off the safety and made my way to the back door, which happened to be in the kitchen.

Moving the yellow curtains aside, I peered into the darkness from the small window in the door, but couldn’t see a thing.

I had no back porch light, on account of the fact that I’d neglected to change the bulb when it burned out months before.

That’s what I got for procrastinating. Granny Stella had always been on me about stuff like that.

Why put off until tomorrow, what you can do today?

How many times had she recited that line too me?

Holding my breath, I molded my body to the wall for cover and opened the door. Still, it was too dark to see much.

“Hello! Is anyone out there?”

The only answer I received was the crash of the surf in the distance.

Getting brave, I stepped out to the porch, keeping my gun ready and the door open, just in case things went sour fast.

“Hello!” I called again.

Nothing.

Figuring it must have been someone walking on the beach, and they were now gone, I turned to go back inside when I saw movement from the corner of my eye. It happened so fast that all I saw was a blur of dull color, but it was enough to remind me of Muriel’s dress.

Could it be Muriel?

“Muriel! Is that you hanging around my back yard?”

My answer was another scream that managed to send my heart into my throat.

This time when she zipped by me, I was ready and recognized her bobbing ponytail right away.

What the heck was she up to?

“Muriel … what are you doing here? It’s kind of late isn’t it?”

I received no answer, not even a moan.

Sighing, I returned to the house and again locked the door. For sure there was something up with Muriel. Not only had she gained enough power to stray from the lighthouse, but she was kind of acting a little psychotic too.

A shiver made its way up my spine. Muriel was getting creepier by the day.

* * *

Even before I opened my eyes, I knew I wasn’t in for an ordinary average day. Firstly, it was too dark. By the time I woke up in the morning, there was light streaming in my bedroom window.

Not this morning. It was almost dark enough to believe the sun wasn’t yet up.

Anything could happen on All Hallows Eve! According to Granny anyway.

At first I only opened my eyes to slits, but that changed quickly when I saw the shadows hovering around my bed.

My eyes flew open, but then I clamped them shut again. What I’d thought were shadows weren’t shadows at all, but people - dead people. There were at least a half dozen ghosts hovering around my bed, watching me sleep.

Now that was just plain creepy.

“What do you want?” I asked, still keeping my eyes closed.

“We’re lost.” It was a little boy voice.

Forcing my eyes open, I turned in the direction of the voice. Suddenly, I felt as if someone was squeezing my heart.

The little boy couldn’t have been more than four. He had bright red hair that looked as if it hadn’t been combed in a month, and there was mud caked on his little white t-shirt.

Tearing my eyes from the little boy, I forced myself to look at the others. The milky eyes of an old lady stared at me. She appeared as if she’d just visited a fashion outlet for seniors during the Great Depression.

There was a twenty-something girl, whose jeans and tank top were dripping dirty water all over my floor. The older guy to my left had probably died on the set of the
Godfather
. His black suit and matching hat were perfect for someone traipsing through the thirties, but a little out of place in my twenty-first century bedroom. He was immaculate, except for the gunshot wound to his chest. That kind of ruined the look of his suit a little.

The other guy was an elderly gentleman, who I knew as Bernie from Sunnyside. He must have just passed, as I saw him just a few days before, putting together a scarecrow in front of the main building of the retirement facility.

The last ghost was Polly Nielson, one of the Ripper’s victims. As soon as she’d left her body, she’d promptly embedded herself into the brick of a nearby building and had stayed there, refusing to acknowledge me, or anything else. Kind of like the old captain who sat in the park.

At least she’d decided to get out of the wall.

It didn’t take long to gauge that at least four of them were likely murder victims. Polly’s murder was semi solved, but I had no idea about the others. It was very possible their murders were normal mortal types, which meant they wouldn’t fall into the jurisdiction of the ACMU, legally anyway. I had a feeling that somehow or another, they did fall into my jurisdiction.

Helping them was another part of my penance.

“Do you all mind if I get out of bed before I start work?” I asked, hoping they’d change their mind and look for someone else who could help them. It wasn’t that I didn’t care, I just had so many other people to help at the moment.

All six specters backed away from my bed, but stayed in the room. Apparently I wasn’t going to be to be getting out of it that easy.

I should have been prepared for an onslaught of ghostly visitors. Halloween was the one time that the veil between worlds was so thin, it took ghosts little energy at all to manifest.

Sliding out from beneath the blankets, I was glad I’d decided to wear my pink Christmas flannels to bed. They provided more cover than some outfits these days.

“So how can I help you all?” I asked, as I stepped to the bedroom window and opened the curtains.

I’d been right. The sky was full of dark - boiling clouds. Half of me wouldn’t mind it if there was a thunderstorm. The Dell witches might have a tough time dancing around a bonfire while it was raining, but on the other hand, it would probably ruin the pumpkin walk in Storm Cove.

“I just woke up in your bedroom.” It was Polly’s voice.

Turning from the window, I almost sobbed when I saw the confusion on her face. She didn’t even realize she was dead, and the fact that she actually recognized me only reinforced the illusion of life.

Before I could respond to Polly, old time gangster guy butted in. “I been stuck in your bedroom for months now. Why don’t you be a nice little kitten and show me the way out of here? The door isn’t working.”

Giving him a death glare, I asked, “Why have you been stuck in my bedroom?”

He pointed a meaty hand toward the bed. “That was the bed I was shot in.”

I could actually feel the blood draining from my face. That’s what I got for buying second hand, but the cherry wood four-poster bed and seemed so quaint. Funny how you never think of who or what had been there before.

“By the way … you should really do something about that snoring of yours. When you start up, you sound like a snorting boar,” he snickered.

“
I don’t snore!” I declared, though I really had no idea. I probably did, if I were to put any stock in Annabelle’s claims.

The gangster shrugged his shoulders. “Not my deal, but I’d sure like to get out of here.”

“Why don’t you all just look for a light? That’s it. That’s what you are supposed to be doing,” I urged, hoping it would be just that simple.

The lady dressed like my great grandmother, stepped forward. “I been wandering the island for decades and haven’t seen a light … except for that ghastly new lighthouse you all have put up.”

Two things hit me at once. How the hell did I find a light I couldn’t even see … and why hadn’t I noticed or sensed a ghost hanging around my bedroom?

Sure, with Granny missing, and basic mayhem taking over Mystique Island, I’d been a little stressed lately, but still, not knowing my bedroom was haunted was a bit of a stretch.

Someone must be purposely blocking my antenna. It was the only thing that made sense.

A vision of that evil clown flashed before my eyes.

It had to be! If I wasn’t doing what I was supposed to be doing, it was like insurance on my soul.

If it were true, it was something I was going to have to deal with later. For now, I had to help these people find the light.

I glanced at the pretty blond who had been murdered so cruelly by the Ripper. Penny probably wouldn’t be too difficult. She just needed some guidance.