The Final Catch: Book 1: See Jane Charm (A Tarot Sorceress Series) (4 page)

The triple X shop was a family owned business as ironic as that sounds and was located appropriately enough on a street called Lover's Lane. I didn’t really know the owners. They hire people to work in the store. At the moment, I stood dumbfounded outside the shop for several minutes. When I saw the reflection of the guy that stole Sia, I quickly turned to confront him, but he wasn’t there. I turned back to the window glass and there he was!

What the eff was going on?

Our reflections in the triple X window slowly began to morph. We became entangled, two people having sex. At first I thought the triple X projected some kind of creepy video of a couple onto the glass, and I only imagined they looked similar to us. I was by horrified, but it was so erotic that as much as I wanted to turn away, I continued to watch. I had to take a deep breath and did a slow three-sixty to see if anyone else watched the sizzling little display, but no one noticed; thankfully the lane was empty. The graphically sexual image faded, and that’s when I decided I’d had a hallucination brought on by too much wine, pot and not enough sleep the night before.

*

When I entered the shop, I heard the radio playing a local music station. I recognized it because I played that station myself. I entered the shop with my picture of Theodosia in hand.

The clerk was an older, sixtyish-look, biker-type lady who nodded to me. I greeted her but before I approached with my Sia poster and my request for a particular video, I moved to the display window and stared out into the lane--looking for the stalker and thief –

“Waiting for someone?” The clerk asked me. I turned to her and sized her up. The boldness in her voice sounded a little challenging, like I’d disturbed her at something important, but I didn’t want to cause any conflict.  I wanted to hang a poster in her shop.

“Did you see someone...standing out there, earlier?”  I pointed in the direction I’d come from. The clerk stretched her neck a little.  She looked like she’d seen it all.  Her pixie haircut, bleached silver, needed saving, and the tattoos running up her neck made me cringe. From where she stood there was no way to see where I pointed, and she didn’t look like she wanted to make any moves in my direction.

“Where?” she asked, craning a little more.

“Standing there?”

The clerk shook her head, no, “Only you.”  I’m certain my confusion showed because she looked like she had no idea what I was getting at.

I tried changing the subject.  I held up Sia’s poster.  “Can I? Would you mind if I hung this poster in here? My cat got stolen.”

“Sure. Who’d steal a cat? Crazy. She’s sure cute, though.”

I noticed that the clerk’s name tag said Jamie, another long time Meadowvale mundane, at least that’s what I thought then, which meant non-magical, but that didn’t turn out to be quite the case. I didn’t know it at the time, but she wasn’t actually completely mundane, but I didn’t find out until much later just what her magic was all about. She dabbled.

Knowing the mundane from the majors was crucial and about to become very important.

“Thanks, Jamie. Where?”

“Put it in the window, there.”  She pointed out a spot where the poster fit perfectly. “You’re cat looks like a Cheshire,” she said.

I stopped pushing the poster to the window and turned to look at Jamie. “She is,” I said cautiously. “I thought she was a ragdoll, at first, but the note she came with said she belongs to the Cheshire society, so I guess that makes her one.”

“They’re a special breed,” she informed me.

“Do you know much about them?”

She shook her head no. “Only that they’re expensive and most people who own one are allergic to them and give them up.”

“Allergic? Like itchy, watery eyes?”

“And sneezing,” She said.

“Sneezing?’

“Uh, huh, like aaaachooo, that kind of thing,”

“Well, that’s not me,” I assured her.  “I’m not most people.”

“Sure. If you’ve kept the cat, you definitely are not most people,” she said, with a chuckle.

She had me thinking.  I was sure my OCD and sneezing wasn’t the same thing as being allergic to Sia.  I did that before she came to my home, but I was certainly doing more of it since she arrived. I wasn’t going to worry, though; nothing could make me get rid of Sia.

Jamie gave me some tape and as I stuck my poster to a strategic spot in the front window, I came face to face with very sexy lingerie on the mannequin in the window display. I touched the negligee – so sheer, and exotic, black with ostrich feathers. I fondled it a bit. It looked like something a goddess might wear in her boudoir, long with a side slit. “I want this,” I called over to Jamie.  She moved slowly to the display and leisurely disrobed the tired, old mannequin. I made a b-line to my next purchase at the back of the shop.

*

The triple X store was shaped like a long shoe box that needed a good steam cleaning, like most triple X shops. The videos were hidden at the back behind a black curtain. I liked to come early in the day. That way I avoided all the creepy men that frequent the place.

While I searched through the DVDs, I heard Jamie struggling with the mannequin. I wondered what the problem was and turned.

I froze.

Beyond Jamie, I saw him, the cat thief, standing in the lane, staring into the shop; Jamie saw him, too, then turned to look back at me.  She looked worried, frightened even. I grabbed my DVD ready to run out the door and grab the guy.

When I looked back, he had moved from the lane and pressed himself against the store’s glass window; crazed and looking dangerous, he gave the window a lusty, pulpy lick.

That’s when the frightened Jamie knocked over the naked mannequin.

That sopping lick on the window left its ugly print; he took off. We didn’t see where because my DVD just cracked open on its own and the disc fell. Jamie’s fallen mannequin began to a quiver and bounce across the floor! “Oh, that ass, that effing demon,” I heard her utter. . Jamie recovered the mannequin.

I held up the erotic DVD cover—titled: "NOTTI GIRL'S GUIDE TO ONE NIGHT STANDS."  

“Was that the guy?”  Jamie asked sounding very annoyed.

“Yes,” I assured her.  “He took my cat.”

*

When I left the triple X, I had my DVD in a bag inside my purse and my poster of Sia hung where it was obvious to people on the street. Outside of the dark shop, a bright ray of sunlight fell across my eyes and made me squint.  That’s when
he
stepped out of the shadows.

He bumped me on purpose with his shoulder and dropped his paper bag at my feet.  Bundles of money, bricks of cash –  tumbled out from the dropped bag.  I was so startled by the jumble of money at me toes, I took several steps back.  I stared down at the loot and waited for it to disappear, proving it really didn’t exist.  Then I heard his deep gravelly voice.

“Pardon me, Jane.”

He pulled back his hood and revealed himself.  He was more attractive than ever. Much more than when I saw him stare through the window at the triple X shop; at least six feet tall, maybe a little taller. His movie star pirate-like aura really resonated with me.

Close up I could see he had an interesting space between his front teeth. This made him look a little dishonest. I’m sure he was a bad boy and that made him all the more attractive.

As we stood there, staring at one another, he kept subtly changing; he’d have a five o’clock shadow, then his hair seemed a little longer, or shorter, his chin had a bum dimple and his lips were wide then they changed to narrow, his ears were pierced, then they weren’t and one lip was pierced, all changes that made him more or less attractive to me.  At first I wanted to punch him in the stomach, the way Manuel had taught me, because this guy had my cat, but the longer I looked into his liquidy, chocolate colored eyes, it didn’t seem right.

Then I remembered the money! I really wanted to look down again at the money, but his half grin, and the twinkle in his eye, and the tattoos down the front of his neck compelled me to keep my eyes on him.

I was locked in his spell.

It wasn’t until I noticed a glittery twinkle from under one of his sleeves that I again remembered this was the guy who’d stolen Sia from me!

I took him by the arm and pulled up that sleeve.
Yup.
Sia’s collar!
He wore Sia’s collar on his wrist like a bracelet. The rhinestones caught the sunlight and reflected back into my eyes, and that snapped me out of his mind control.

It took all my strength to muster any kind of sincere annoyance for the gorgeous and spell binding stalker. “Why did you take Sia?” I asked, still hanging on to his arm, staring at her collar. Instead of answering me the insolent man started to wobble in a strange way, as if he was about to faint dead away. He slowly got lower and lower as his legs gave out from under him, like a slow motion limbo. When I realized what he was actually doing it was too late.

His descent to the ground stopped at my girly area.  He made lewd gestures with his long tongue, which I won’t describe. While I was in shock at his display, he reached down with one hand and gathered up the money he’d dropped there. With remarkable dexterity and flexibility he scooped those bundles of cash right back into that paper bag.

  Furious, I put my foot on his money bag.

“Move it, bitch.”

“Excuse me?”  I hardly breathed out the words. By now he’d quit his lewd behavior. I wanted to drag this guy to the police! But even with my foot on the bag of cash, he concentrated on getting all that money back into the brown paper bag. Once secured, he pushed my foot off of the bag, kissed the top of it, glanced up at me one last time and had the audacity to hand me a slip of paper. Then he did an acrobatic leap backward and ran down Lovers’ Lane, around the corner and out of sight.

Slowly I became more aware of the slip of paper in my hand -- a phone number and a few words.

"THERE’S MORE WHERE THIS CAME FROM.  CALL ME. DEVON RAKER." 

Then I noticed some forgotten cash at my feet. An entire bundle.

I scooped it and flipped through the bills. 

Hundreds.

They had to be fake.

I hurried from the lane with the bundle of cash in hand.  I needed to get to the bottom of this, so I pushed the slip of paper with his phone number deep into my pocket and ran after him. After all, he had Sia.

Maybe buying her back was a possibility.

When I ran out onto the main street of Meadowvale after spending time in Lovers’ Lane, it was like stepping into another dimension.  The sun shone, happy people shopped and ate ice cream at the sidewalk cafes. According to the village clock, it was just past noon, but I didn’t feel hungry, only determined.  I looked up and then down the street for Devon.

I held the bundle of cash out in front of me like a dead fish.   I really wanted to drop it straight into my purse and go shopping, but I didn’t. I figured finding Devon was like finding a needle in a hay stack, yet no sooner did I have the thought then  I glimpsed Devon's shadowy form as he entered a nearby shop. “Hey,” I yelled, “Devon, you forgot something!” He looked backed and waved at me, he taunted me to follow.

The shop he slipped into was next door to a bakery which had just started to bake its bread. The delicious waft of sweet, rising dough made my mouth water and my tummy grumble.  A few feet away a sidewalk sandwich board read: MAISIE THE PSYCHIC IS IN TODAY.

I stood outside Maisie’s Curio wondering what business he had in a place like hers. The Curio shop looked respectable, and I remembered passing it many times and thinking one day I’d go inside and check it out. Maybe even get a tarot card reading.

Now seemed as a good a time as any.

Through the gift shop’s window I saw that every corner was filled with large scented candles that stood like sentries beside skinny sticks of incense; sparkling crystals, rocks and crystal ware, as well as hand blown glass balls, silk scarves and other beautiful, gifty things which attracted me. Not one, but two security cameras protected the shop inside, and I’d noticed one outside, too.

In the back the shadowy movement of Devon caught my eye.   He looked so scruffy and out of place that I wondered if he planned to rob Maisie’s, maybe that’s how he got his money.  I couldn’t see anyone else in there, but I decided to go in and confront the creeper with his brick of money.

A series of soft door chimes sounding very much like the trickle of water, announced my arrival.  Once inside, my dread and concern melted away.  From where I stood I was able to see the sales counter but no one manned the cash register. That bothered me a little. The shop seemed empty. I noticed a large, leather bound book, the kind of book I’d seen in antique shops with gold trim and embossed spines. I ran my hand along the outside of the book and a small tremor tickled my fingers. It read 
--
The Knowitall Journals –

*

I pulled open the cover and saw hand written journal entries and the title of the book written again in black script.  I laughed at that. There was a calligraphy pen nearby and a bottle of red ink. I thought the red ink was curious. A little soft music played giving the shop a meditative ambiance and making it feel far away from the bustle of downtown Meadowvale.

I left the journal and headed deeper into the Curio.

Soft Celtic voices sang me in and through the shop. The whispery voices chorused all around me. The interior smelled liked mint and the scent massaged my stressed out brain. I wandered soothed and disarmed by the sounds and the sweet and savory smells of the place.  The items for sale were a feast to the eyes; soft colored scarves arranged in harmonious patterns, hand blown balls of glass that looked like miniature worlds, baubles of every color caught the light through the window and reflected around the interior. Everything appeared carefully displayed and designed to nourish the senses. Any fear I might have had left me as I touched and fondled interesting items all the way to the backroom. 

There, a sign over a door read: TAROT CARD READINGS.

As I stepped in to the rear of the shop the first thing I noticed was the old fashioned fortune-telling machine with a gypsy-like figure on the inside. She sat quiet and guard like at the threshold between front and rear of the place. The automaton inside looked very familiar. I studied it a minute and wondered where I’d seen one like it. I tried to read the slightly rusted sign above the figure’s head, but there was a tarp partially draped over it. And I couldn’t reach high enough to move it to the side.

Beyond the fortune telling machine was a smaller, more intimate room. It had dry aquariums with small cacti and other things growing in rainbow colored sand and the lights from the aquarium lids glowed softly. What drew my attention was a sturdy looking card table draped in a beaded burgundy and black cloth. Two chairs tucked under the table looked ready to receive customers.  A small, lit votive sat on the table. A deck of tarot cards inside a box, but with the lid off, also appeared to await the arrival of a guest. I decided to be that guest and took a seat. I picked up the deck of cards, and shuffled them, and instantly I became mesmerized by the design on the back of the cards, a hypnotic swirl of sorts that moved.

Right away my hands became possessed as they endlessly shuffled and reshuffled the gorgeous cards; spiral pinwheel designs whorled and sparkled and danced like fireworks. My fingers moved rhythmically around the cards.

The sound of a toilet flush broke the spell!

The closet bathroom door was camouflaged, but once my eyes discerned its outline, it became obvious-- purple with a very psychedelic pattern of a purple fleur de lis design from the 70’s, and the papered door had a soft and fuzzy touch. I looked carefully at the busy pattern and found myself getting dizzy. A small handle that looked as if it belonged more on a dresser drawer then on a bathroom door was hidden in the pattern.

 I heard a sound from beyond the door.

Someone was in there!

I should’ve run from the shop right then and there. Instead, I went back to the table and put the cards down and tried to tidy them and the table so that nothing looked amiss.  The instant I began to reorganize the items on the table, my obsessive compulsiveness took over, and I couldn’t resist making the minute adjustments necessary to make the votive, the box of cards, the lid and the cloth covering the table form a picture that made sense to me, a small attractive display which gave me that strong feel of story, as if a narrative were about to rise through the edges of the assembled items.

I began to chew my bottom lip, and I felt my, by now, familiar body stutter—the shake just before the sneeze. I knew at the same time that someone was about to enter the room, but I couldn’t prevent what happened next.

 I made my noise -- like a nasal sneezey aaaphoo, a sound like none other.

Nothing on the table moved.

No one had actually entered the room, so once again I picked up the deck of cards and the sparkles blasted up tiny and fiery between my fingers, even more startling than the first time, but I sensed no heat or prickle of any kind and an absolutely amazing thing happened.

The miniature fireworks formed a tiny sparkling image of Sia that hovered just over the backs of my hands.

I marveled at Sia’s image.

 “Sia!” I called quietly to her, not wanting to frighten the kitten, unable to take my eyes from the darling little face. I watched in dismay as she began to fade from the tiny sparkling splendor, but the last thing to remain hanging and glittering from the back of the cards was her sweet little mouth grinning back at me.