Witch of Christmas Past

BOOK: Witch of Christmas Past
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Witch of Christmas Past

An Izzy Cooper Mystery

 

 

Kendra Ashe

 

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2015 Kendra Ashe

All Rights Reserved

Lavine Press 2015

 

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

 

1.

 

The lights flickered. A few seconds later, the Lighthouse Market was plunged into darkness.

This so wasn’t cool!

The one night of the week I force myself to stop by the grocery store, and the lights go out. That would just be my luck.

Reading labels in the dark was only part of the problem. Now the cashier wouldn’t be able to accept credit cards, and I had no cash on me.

No matter, I would persevere. A little power outage wasn’t going to keep me from carrying on the Osborne family Christmas traditions. Granny always made gumdrop cake for Christmas and I intended to do the same.

Just as I was trying to decide if the cashier would accept an IOU, the lights flickered again, and then came on.

Pushing a long sigh through my lips, I tossed several bags of gumdrops into the shopping cart. They landed next to the sack of flour. I was pretty sure that I now had all the ingredients for gumdrop cake and gingerbread.

It was time to get out of Dodge before the power went out again.

Power outages were unusual on Mystique Island, but not unheard of, especially in the winter. It was possible a storm was blowing in, although I hadn’t heard of any storms in the forecast.

Without wasting more time, I made my way to the checkout. As the cashier scanned my groceries, I noticed a Santa near the front door, ringing a bell while he held out a collection can.

A bell ringing Santa was common during the holiday season. That was all part of Christmas.

What wasn’t so common was that this Santa was really a demon. The white hair and beard couldn’t hide the mischievous gleam in his eyes.

After paying the cashier, I grabbed my two bags of groceries and headed straight for the exit with the Santa.

Stopping in front of the red collection pot, I gave Julius the evil eye. “We need to talk … right away!”

“Ho ho ho! I’d love to talk with you child, but I’m a bit busy at the moment. Maybe if you send a letter to the North Pole …”

“Don’t even go there!” I cut him off. “I’ll meet you in the car … or I’ll summons the old evil himself and put in a complaint that you are neglecting your duty at turning me to the dark side.”

Julius rolled his eyes. “Fine!”

Without waiting to see if he’d follow me, I stepped through the automatic sliding glass doors and into a cold - drizzling rain. Wishing I’d thought to bring an umbrella, I started for the yellow Mustang that I’d nicknamed, Lady Luck.

By the time I loaded my groceries in the trunk, Julius was standing behind me.

“You are no fun anymore. I think the FBI is getting to you,” he grumbled.

“Julius, think about it. It’s the holiday season. That money you are collecting should go to people who need it. Maybe if you try to get in touch with your human side, you’ll actually understand that.”

Before getting into the car, Julius pulled off the Santa hat and fake beard. “My dear Izzy. I think you forget whom it is you are talking to. I am a demon … remember? You know … a fouler of men, the scourge of the universe.”

Sliding behind the wheel, I wagged a finger at him. “Yeah, but you don’t have to accept that. You were human once. All you have to do to beat this demon wrap is get in touch with that part of you that is still human.”

Julius rolled his eyes. “Coming from Miss Fallen Angel. You’re still in between and haven’t beaten it.”

Okay, so he had a point. I’d been run over by a truck and given a chance to have my life back, but only if I returned as a fallen angel. I still hadn’t quite figured out what I’d done so bad to go to hell in the first place, but I was working on it.

I was also working at redeeming myself, which in my opinion meant that I couldn’t let demons wreak havoc on Mystique Island, even if it was only Julius, my guardian demon. At least that’s the way I liked to think of him. He was really sent here to try and foil my efforts at redemption, although so far he hadn’t been doing a great job of it.

“Just drop me at the Mermaid Inn. I’ll use what little money I managed to collect for a lobster dinner.”

Julius was in a foul mood for sure. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t keeping the money.

“Sorry.” I shook my head. “You collected that money under false pretenses. We are going some place where you can donate the money to people who really need it.”

His normally handsome features twisted as he scowled at me. “Like hell! I just spent the last hour collecting this money. I figure I’ve earned it.”

Taking a deep breath, I searched within myself for the patience I would need to not go ballistic on him. That would be playing right into the devil’s hands. I had to keep that in mind and watch my tempter.

“Julius … if you can’t do it for the sake of just trying to be good, then do it because if you don’t, I will never talk to you again. If I’m not talking to you, then how are you going to drag me to Hell?”

“Okay … have it your way.” He gave me one of his trademark wicked grins. There was also a hint of malicious intent in his dark eyes.

“Really?” I asked, not trusting him at all.

He shrugged. “Sure. What do you want to do with the money?”

I hadn’t actually figured that part out yet. “Well, there is the Fisherman’s Hope. They could always use the extra money, especially this time of year.”

“Let’s go then.”

That was easy. In fact, it was too easy.

Putting Lady Luck in gear, I backed out of my parking space and pointed her toward the wharf. I was glad the rain had stopped. Driving at night was bad enough, but when it was raining, I was a terrible driver.

Fisherman’s Hope was a charity that helped disabled fishermen and the families of those who never returned from the sea. It wasn’t much more than a community center that provided warm meals a couple times a day, along with coats and shoes, but they really did their best to help those in need.

I pulled up to the collection box outside the tan brick building. “Just dump the money in there.”

Shaking his head in annoyance, Julius got out of the car. I watched closely as he dumped the contents of his collection can into the Fisherman’s Hope donation slot.

When he was done, he opened the car door and leaned inside. “I’m going to walk to the Mermaid from here. You’re going to be busy tonight.”

I had just opened my mouth to ask him what he meant when my phone rang.

Julius waved and shut the door. I could see him in my rearview mirror. It was only a block to the Mermaid Inn, where he rented a small apartment. I figured he’d be okay.

“Hello,” I answered the call.

“I hope you are not too busy at the moment.” It was Ayden, which could only mean one thing. The Atypical Crimes Management Unit of the FBI had a case. Since I was a member of that unit, it also meant I had to go to work.

“I’m not extremely busy. Why?”

“I need you to stop by the Hope Grove Cemetery. It looks like we may have a slight problem.” The grim tone of his voice sent chills down my spine.

What kind of person would cause trouble this close to the holidays?

I knew it was a stupid and naive thought, but I really wished the depraved criminals would give it a rest every so often.

 

 

2.

 

With the number of officers around the cemetery, I was sure we had another homicide on our hands.

Although I no longer had to show my FBI credentials to local law enforcement since they all knew me, I did it anyway. I just loved the feeling I got when I flashed my ID.

Deputy Greg Hammond waved me through the ancient wrought iron gate.

About a hundred yards inside the cemetery there was an area sectioned off with yellow crime scene tape. That’s where I found my boss and Tim, the only other agents on the island, aside from myself.

“What happened?” I asked as I was stepping over the crime scene tape.

“A grave robbery.” Ayden pointed to the open grave and empty coffin. “Donald Cummings was just laid to rest a couple days ago. He fell over the railing of his boat. The coast guard found him, just not in time.”

“Okay, so I’m lost. Why are we here?”

There was no doubt that disturbing the graves of the deceased was a vile thing, but how could this be one of those special, paranormal kinds of crimes, which were the only kind ACMU dealt with.

“A couple different reasons,” Tim spoke up. “For one … with an island full of witches, there is always the possibility someone has stirred up another zombie spell, but there is also that.” Tim pointed to an object lying in the grass, near the open grave.

I kneeled down to get a better look. “What is it?”

“It is a camera … probably from the late nineteenth century,” Tim explained.

“Okay, maybe it belongs to a collector who dropped it while visiting the cemetery.” I shrugged.

That wouldn’t explain why someone would be visiting the cemetery with an old camera that probably took crappy pictures to begin with, but it was the only thing I could come up with.

Ayden shook his head. “Take a closer look. It appears to be in nearly new condition.”

The boss was right. Although it was obviously an antique camera, it was in very good condition.

Now I had a better understanding of why we were involved. Not only had the deceased disappeared from his grave, but there was an object that was way out of place. Those two things together probably did spell, paranormal trouble.

“Tim, you send the camera to DC. They’ll be able to tell if it’s a copy or the real thing. Izzy … you have a talk with the sheriff. Find out if they know of any necromancers on the island. It would probably be a good idea if the sheriff’s department steps up patrols around all the cemeteries.

“Will do,” I told him. “I’ll try to come in for a few hours tomorrow and do some research.”

That would mean another Saturday morning at the office, but I could always start my holiday baking in the evening.

I looked around to see if Sheriff Bourne was nearby. He was in front of the graveyard entrance, talking to a group of three deputies. It was difficult to miss Sheriff Jeb Bourne. He was wearing a big white cowboy hat.

I wasn’t sure why he insisted on wearing that hat, but I guessed it might be to hide the steel gray hair that he kept cut short. Some men had a problem with going gray, yet they couldn’t quite bring themselves to dye it.

Dodging headstones, I trotted over to where they were gathered. “Hello, Jeb.”

Sheriff Bourne turned his attention to me, but there was no recognition in his eyes. His smile was one of those automatic smiles that law enforcement pasted on the face when interacting with the public.

“Hello,” he said with a tilt of his head.

I could usually pick up on emotions fairly easy, but all I was getting from Jeb was a blank slate. It was almost like he didn’t know me.

Could he be coming down with Alzheimer’s?

“SA Fontaine believes this could have something to do with witchcraft, and possibly a
necromancer
. Have you heard of anyone on the island who might be involved with this kind of thing?”

It was no use asking him if he knew of any witches. Half the island’s population would fit that description.

Jeb appeared thoughtful, but then shook his head. “I can’t say as I do.”

I wasn’t sure if that was good news or not. At least if he’d had someone in mind, we would have had a suspect.

“Well be sure to let us know if you think of anyone. Also, it might be a good idea to increase your patrols around the island’s cemeteries.”

“We were just discussing the need for extra patrols.” Jeb’s grin was kind of strange, like he was smiling at a particularly annoying stranger.

“Thanks. If anyone notices any suspicious activity around the cemeteries, be sure to let us know.”

“Will do.” He nodded.

Something was going on with the sheriff. He hadn’t even asked about Granny, and he always asked about our progress on her case. After all, Granny Stella had been his high school sweetheart.

There was something else off with Jeb’s behavior. He wasn’t hopping around and blaming the Roseland werewolves. They were always his first choice when something went wrong.

Of course, it was possible that he was just being gracious due to the upcoming Christmas holiday.

Suddenly an icy wind swept over the cemetery, seeming to bring with it a sense of foreboding. A shiver crawled over my entire body.

Something was very wrong. This wasn’t just the usual, Mystique Island strange. There was something really weird in the air. I could feel it in my bones.

 

* * *

 

When I pulled into the driveway of my little cottage on Haven Beach, I was overcome with apprehension. The cottage seemed darker than usual, and a little ominous.

I hadn’t been expecting to get in so late; otherwise I might have left the porch light on.

That was when I made the decision to get one of those motion sensor lights that would turn on as soon as I drove up.

I would call around Monday morning and find someone to install it. Since going to work for the ACMU, I really didn’t like dark places and had a tendency to be more cautious. I knew very well what could happen to those caught unaware.

In spite of being a little spooked, I ran up to the front door and unlocked it, switching on not only the porch light, but nearly every light in the house.

I made a mad dash for my car to gather my groceries. The whole time I was doing my best to shake the feeling of being watched.

Where was Julius when I needed him?

Right away he would have been able to pick up on what was wrong. There were some advantages to being a full-blown demon, like being able to sense and know things long before a human picked up on it, even if the human was a witch or a half fallen angel.

After making one more trip out to get the mail, I shut and locked the door. Not that a locked door would keep out most supernatural beings, but I figured it couldn’t hurt.

With only two bags of groceries, it didn’t take long to put them away. I then turned my attention to the mail.

I tossed the electric bill aside, along with the cable bill. The last thing I needed after a long day was to look at utility bills. They could wait until another time, hopefully before they were overdue. I also didn’t need to come home one night and find that my electricity had been turned off.

My curiosity was peaked by a large red envelope.

According to the return address, it was from the Misty Haven Resort. I had a pretty good idea who it was from, and what it was for.

It was probably a holiday ball, which sounded like it would be a lot of fun, except that if I went, I’d have to see Zane Dupree.

With his mesmerizing blue eyes and waves of blond hair, Zane was about as hot as a guy could get, but he was also a vampire, and every time he smiled at me my heart skipped a beat.

I couldn’t take the chance of getting mixed up with someone as magnetic as he was, and lose focus on everything else. Besides, I didn’t have a great track record when it came to men.

When I pulled the fancy silver foil invitation from the envelope, I wavered a little. The idea of getting dressed up and dancing the night away was enticing, but until Granny was home, I couldn’t spare the time.

I also wished people would quit breaking the law, at least for a few weeks. There should really be a slow season for law enforcement, like it was for most all other industries. Unfortunately, life didn’t work that way, especially on Mystique Island.

The rest of my evening was uneventful. My dinner, which consisted of a frozen, microwave meal, was semi-palatable. For entertainment, I turned to my trusty television. It wasn’t the most exciting way to spend a Friday night, but I was tired and ready for bed.

Next on my agenda was a long hot shower, after which I could fall into my bed and let the world slip away until morning.

Unfortunately, I was quickly discovering that it didn’t do much good for me to make plans for any further out than five minutes.

As soon as I stripped down and pulled the shower curtain open, my heart nearly burst out of my chest.

I would have screamed, but I couldn’t utter a sound.

Her gray pallor, stringy blond hair and blue lips, gave her the appearance of a corpse, which isn’t too shocking considering she was actually dead.

But I wasn’t looking at Muriel’s corpse. It was her ghost that was hiding in my shower.

“What are you doing in my shower?” I asked, once I managed to find my voice. “And why are you appearing to me like this?”

“Like what?” Muriel asked.

“Like a dead person.”

She shrugged. “I am dead.”

“Yeah, but why are you popping up in my shower looking like a corpse?” I scowled.

I’d grown accustomed to seeing the deceased, and it usually wasn’t a problem as long as I was prepared for it.

“The lighthouse is getting boring.”

Muriel was referring to the Shipwreck Point Lighthouse, which is where she usually did her haunting, due to the fact that’s where she’d been murdered. That was the theory anyway. Muriel wasn’t a lot of help in that department, on account of she couldn’t remember much about her own murder, though she was convinced it was the mythical Captain Marsh who’d murdered her.

Sighing, I asked, “Why is it getting boring at the lighthouse?”

“Aaron isn’t fun to scare anymore. He is totally ignoring me,” Muriel complained.

“Well, maybe he has found a way to stop you from bugging him while he is trying to work,” I suggested.

Aaron Osborne was my mother’s brother, who happened to be stuck in the 80s Heavy Metal era, which is why he preferred to make his living running a classic rock station from the top of the Shipwreck Point Lighthouse.

Uncle Aaron and Muriel didn’t get along well. She had a habit of messing with him all night, and he reacted by cussing her and throwing fits, which she thoroughly enjoyed.

“No, he isn’t just ignoring me.” She shook her head. “He is also ignoring the phone when it rings.”

Well, that was weird. Uncle Aaron was normally pretty good about not ignoring the business side of his radio station.

“I couldn’t even get a sigh out of him when I turned off the broadcast system,” she added.

Now I knew something was wrong. My phone would have been ringing endlessly if the broadcast system went down and Aaron suspected Muriel was behind it.

Maybe Uncle Aaron was going into a depression?

It was getting close to Christmas and Granny still wasn’t home. I would definitely have to pay my uncle a visit and see how he was doing.

 

BOOK: Witch of Christmas Past
2.66Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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