The Cupcake Coven (26 page)

Marv picked it up and thumbed through the pages. “Yeah. Probably some kind of witch’s instruction manual.” He pressed the buzzer on his desk and waited for his secretary to answer.

“Yes, Mr. Marvelli?”

“What took you so long? Never mind. Just get my Aunt Velia on the phone.”

“Yes sir.”

He looked at the picture on the back and read the quote while they waited. “‘Certain things are everlasting. Magic is one of them. Magic belongs to no one culture or society or tribe—it is part of the universal wisdom…’ Laurie Cabot. Is she some famous witch or something?”

Sal shrugged.

“Was she there?”

“I wouldn’t know. I don’t know what she looks like.”

“And you didn’t even think to look her up on the Internet?”

“Sorry, boss. To me it was just a book one of the guys was reading.”

“Guys? How many men were there?”

“Only a couple.”

“A couple or two?”

“It was hard to tell. They were all wearing black and it was dark. Most of them had on capes, so I couldn’t even see their bodies.”

“So there might have been ten guys?”

He tried to recall the people he’d seen from his hiding spot behind the stone wall. “I don’t think so. The voices were too high.”

Marv called up a website on his computer. “Cabot is in Salem, Massachusetts. Not far away at all. Jeez, she’s almost eighty. Did you see any little old ladies?”

“I don’t know…it was—”

“Yeah, yeah. It was dark,” Marv interrupted.

His phone rang. He picked it up and pushed the speakerphone button immediately. “Aunt Velia?”

“No, she’s out. This is Aunt Claretta.”

“Oh. I was talking to Aunt Velia about a situation…”

“We all know about it.”

Marv shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Oh, uh, that’s good. Then I don’t have to go through it all again.”

“I could use some details. You have a beef with a witch?”

“Yeah. We were supposed to find out what kind of witch she was. Aunt Velia said she might be able to figure it out with some more information. I have a guy here who witnessed some kind of ritual they held last night.”

Apparently Aunt Claretta was waiting for specific information. She didn’t comment except to say, “And?”

“There were thirteen of them,” Marv continued, “all dressed in black—most of them wore capes. My guy managed to grab a book one of the men had been reading.”

“Hmph.”

Apparently she wasn’t impressed yet.

“It looks like some kind of witch’s instruction book. Its author is a Salem witch named Laurie Cabot.”

There was a soft gasp on the other end of the phone. A moment later Claretta blasted him.

“You want us to go to war with the Cabot witches? What the hell? Velia said one of your men was attacked. That’s not like them. They’re peaceful. Tell me exactly what happened.”

“Sal, you were in both places. You tell her.”

Sal had reservations before, but now his nerves really kicked in. “I, uh. Hi. I’m Sal, by the way.”

“Get to the story,” Claretta said. “What happened?”

“I went to see this girl at her bakery, and something invisible attacked me. It was like a hundred electric shocks hitting me all over my body.”

“Did she touch you?”

“Well, no.”

“Taze you?”

“No.”

“Why were you there in the first place? I have the feeling you weren’t just ordering cannolis.”

“No. Her father owes Marv a bunch of money.”

“But what does that have to do with the witch?”

“Well, her father disappeared and nobody knows where he is. She either doesn’t know or is refusing to tell us. We figured if we leaned on the daughter a little bit, her father would either show up or she’d pay to get us off her back.”

“Marv?” The woman’s voice lowered and sounded menacing.

“Yes, Auntie?” he said, meekly.

“What does ‘leaning on the daughter’ include?”

“Sal. You were there. What did you do to her?”

“Nothing. I may have threatened her a little, but I didn’t actually do anything.”

His aunt sighed. “Look, you nitwits, you can’t go around threatening witches and expect them to take it. Sal, were you permanently injured or disfigured?”

“No. It hurt like a bitch, but my skin wasn’t broken.”

“It sounds like she was acting in self-defense. I’d have done the same. Trading threat for threat. What did you threaten to do to her?”

“Um…I might have mentioned breaking one of her legs.”

“Idioto!”

“You asshole!” Marv cried out a moment later.

“You said—” From the wild look in his eyes and the color of Marv’s face, Sal deduced that he should shut-up while he still could.

“What kind of coward tries to hurt women and children?” Aunt Claretta asked. “She isn’t even your problem. It’s her father that owes the money. But don’t be surprised if she has protected him by now too. Idioto!” Then the phone clicked. She’d hung up on them.

What Rebecca and Dru chose to do was to teleport to an alley in town and take a taxi to the ranch. That way he wouldn’t get everyone “riled up” as he called it, for loafing all day while they were taking up his slack. When the taxi pulled up to the main house, it seemed as if dinner had ended. A couple of cowboys hung out on the porch smoking cigarettes.

Dru stepped out of the cab and before he could run around to her side, she opened the door and got out. He paid the driver and waited for him to leave. The cowboys from the porch approached and he escorted Rebecca to them with a hand on the small of her back. It was still so hot she could barely breathe.

“Well if it ain’t the prodigal son…” one of the cowboys said.

“Gus. Elvis. This is my girlfriend, Rebecca.”

One shook her hand politely while the other doffed his hat. She didn’t know which was which at this point, but hopefully it wouldn’t matter.

She smiled, politely. “Gentlemen.”

One of them reared back and laughed while the other one stared at her.

“I ain’t been called a gentleman in a while.”

“Naw. You’re called shit-for-brains more often than not,” Dru said. He hugged the guys one and a time and they pounded on each other’s backs.

Eventually, he returned to her side and said, “Rebecca here is from Portsmouth, New Hampshire,” as if that would explain everything.

“New Hampshire? Is that where Shasta was? We heard you found her.”

“Yup. Is Earl in? I’d like to introduce Rebecca to the boss.” He changed the subject so quickly, she got the impression he didn’t want to tell them about his sister. Maybe he wanted to tell his boss first.

“Yeah. I think he went into his office after supper.”

“Or maybe he’s in the library having brandy and cigars,” one of the guys laughed, his eyes twinkling at Rebecca.

“Hell, for all I know, maybe he is,” Dru said. “I’ve been gone so long a few things might have changed around here.”

The two cowboys glanced at each other with wrinkled brows as if there was something Dru didn’t know. Rebecca hoped he wasn’t in for a nasty surprise.

“Let me take you inside, darlin’. It’s bound to be cooler in there.” He placed his hand on the small of Rebecca’s back and guided her up the stairs. “See you later,” Dru called over his shoulder.

They hadn’t taken two steps into the house before a short, stout, Latina woman stopped in her tracks. Her eyes rounded. “Dru?”

“Hey, Juanita…” He bent over and gave the woman a hug.

“Hola! So nice to see you! Who is your beautiful lady friend?”

“This is Rebecca.” As the two women regarded each other, he went on to explain. “Rebecca’s visiting from New Hampshire. Juanita cleans the place a couple times a week.”

“I’m here more now,” Juanita said. “I cook during the week too.”

“Oh. So I guess a few things
have
changed,” he said. “Is Earl busy?”

“I don’t think he’s ever too busy to see you. Especially with you gone so long.” She nodded toward a door down the hall.

“Well, it was nice seein’ you,” he said. “We’ll stop by later.” With that, he took Rebecca’s hand and led her to the door that must have been the boss’s office or library or…whatever.

Dru knocked and they were answered by a gruff voice. “Come in.”

As soon as Dru opened the door a man the size of a bear lumbered from behind the desk and strode to embrace him.

“Dru! I never thought you’d see fit to come home. This ain’t Shasta,” he said and nodded at Rebecca.

“No. This is Rebecca Colby, a friend from New Hampshire.”

“No kiddin’. Any friend of Dru’s, and all that…Welcome, Rebecca.” After a quick handshake he turned back to Dru. “I heard you finally found Shasta. Where is she?”

“I did. She’s still in New Hampshire.”

“Now I’m confused,” the old man said. “I thought you were bringin’ her home.”

“So did I. It’s a long story. Do you have time?”

“Sure. Let’s go into the living room. Would you two like some iced tea?”

Rebecca hadn’t realized how thirsty she was until he mentioned iced tea. “I’d love some. Can I get a pitcher and some glasses for everyone while you two catch up?”

“Naw. I’ll ask Juanita to get it,” Earl said.

Before she had a chance to protest, he had already called out the woman’s name. And as soon as Juanita hurried into the room, he told her to bring three glasses of iced tea. It seemed as if the woman was more than cook and housekeeper. She was treated like a servant. Rebecca didn’t know how to feel about that—except to realize she was a fish out of water here.
Is this how Dru felt in New England?

“Some kind of official letters came for you a while back. Let me get ‘em before I sit down,” Earl said. “You two get comfortable though.”

Dru and Rebecca strolled across a giant braided rug to the couch and sat. The furniture was made of thick wood with sturdy red cushions. A few throw pillows and some plaid curtains showed a little bit of the feminine touch. Most of the decor was utilitarian. A couple of books on the coffee table. Lamps and an ashtray on the end tables. A sturdy arm chair that matched the couch and a rocking chair completed the grouping.

“He seems nice,” Rebecca said.

“Mostly.”

Dru didn’t elaborate, probably because the office wasn’t that far away and his boss hadn’t closed the door. He returned quickly, carrying two long, white envelopes.

“Here. Looks like they’re from some kind of law office.”

Dru glanced at the return address and opened the first letter. He scanned the contents then looked up, frowning.

“What is it?” Rebecca whispered.

“Some estate lawyer says Shasta and I are named in a will, but we missed the date.” He looked over at Earl. “That’s weird.”

“Open the other letter,” Earl said.

Dru tore into the second envelope and said, “Yep. We missed the reading of the will, but he says to call him and we’ll set up a time.” Dru glanced at a large decorative clock on the wall. “I imagine the law office is probably closed after five o’clock.”

Earl shrugged. “You never know. Sometimes they work late.”

“I doubt the person who answers the phones will be there.” He tucked the envelopes into his pocket. “I’ll call tomorrow. I’m curious as hell though. Do you know anything about another will, Earl?”

The big man shook his head. “Nope.”

Juanita entered with a tray carrying three iced teas and three long spoons. A few sugar packets lay beside the glasses. “I didn’t know how you take your tea,” she said to Rebecca as she set the tray on the coffee table in front of her. “Two sugars for you and Mr. Earl, right, Dru?” she asked.

“Yep. Thanks, Juanita. That’s mighty nice of you to remember.”

“You were gone a couple of months, not years. I’m not losing my memory, yet.” She grinned.

“Speakin’ of memories. Why don’t you have a seat too, Juanita. I’ll tell ya’ll what happened to Shasta.”

She scurried to the rocking chair and sat down, a worried look on her face.

“Now, I don’t want to get into a bunch of personal details,” Dru said. “But you should know that what happened to Shasta wasn’t her fault. She’s fine now, but for a while there she had some kind of amnesia. Didn’t know who she was or where she came from. She lost her phone and all her belongings. That’s why she didn’t get in touch beyond the call saying she’d made it to Massachusetts.”

Both Earl and Juanita looked shocked, but neither of them interrupted.

“I followed a few leads and gathered that she’d gone to the New Hampshire seacoast. I showed her picture to everybody and their uncle, but she’d changed her hairstyle and no one was sure they recognized her. A few thought they might have seen her though, so I didn’t want to give up if I was close.”

Earl nodded. “Understandable.”

We finally crossed paths, and when we did, she acted like she didn’t know me. Turns out, she really didn’t at the time.”

Juanita’s hand clutched the dress fabric over her chest. “How horrible! She must have had quite a bump on the head to forget her own hermano.”

Dru winced. “Well, that’s where it gets kind of tricky. She wasn’t in any kind of an accident. It was more like a psychological trauma. I’m not sure how much she wants people to know, so I’d better say nothin’ and let her fill you in if she wants to.”