Witch of Christmas Past (3 page)

By Monday morning, I was more confused than ever. I’d spent Sunday tracking down my uncle, which hadn’t been easy. For a time, he’d seemed to totally disappear, but he finally picked up his phone during the afternoon.

His explanation for the strange Saturday night show wasn’t comforting. He claimed that he wanted to spend the evening fishing, so he’d prerecorded his show.

Aaron never went fishing!

He had no real answer so I gave up. At least he was somewhat safe, physically anyway.

I wasn’t sure what to do about my uncle. I would need a little more to go on, other than just weird behavior to convince my boss to start a full-blown investigation.

Gray skies and a constant drizzle of rain did nothing to brighten my mood. With my mind on so many other things, it was going to be difficult to concentrate on our current case. I even passed by the Quick Stop and had to turn around.

Instead of going inside, as I usually did, I took advantage of their new drive up window. In less than three minutes, I had a tall cup of coffee and was back on the road.

I loved new fangled things like drive up windows. Progress could make life so much easier.

The FBI, Atypical Crimes Management Unit was based out of the Shipwreck Point Lighthouse, though we had to settle for the basement.

Tim smiled as soon as I walked in, which lifted my mood.

“Good news! There were no more grave robberies over the weekend.”

I already figured as much. If there had been, I was sure I would have been called into work.

“I’m beginning to think this has nothing to do with the supernatural at all. Maybe our perp is some family member going through a psychotic break because of the man’s death.”

Tim leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head. “Could be. We’re looking into that angle.”

“Where’s the boss?”

“With there being no more grave robberies over the weekend, he was in such a good mood that he planned to stop by Pies & Stuff to get breakfast for everyone.”

“Cool! I haven’t eaten yet.”

Ayden was being human for once, which also went a long way in brightening my day.

I was just settling in at my desk when the boss walked in, carrying a box full of sausage muffins and three glasses of orange juice.

“Merry Christmas everyone!” he said, adding an extra bit of cheer in his voice.

“I think you’re a little early with that,” I pointed out.

Ayden shrugged. “I’m practicing.”

After handing out breakfast, Ayden dropped the empty box in the trash and turned to face us.

“I have an announcement to make,” he declared.

Damn! I just knew the boss’s generosity wasn’t about him being in a good mood, at least that wasn’t
all
it was about.

“As you both know, the Storm Cove City Council has a program to raise money for charities during the holidays, and most businesses in town donate something to help out.”

Both Tim and I nodded.

“Well I decided this year, ACMU will donate something.”

“Okay,” I said, a guarded tone to my voice. “What are we planning to donate?”

I loved giving to charity, but I did have to pay the rent if I didn’t want to celebrate the New Year holiday at the soup kitchen.

“Our time.” His smile grew even larger.

He sure was proud of this plan of his, maybe even a little smug.

What were we going to get roped into?

After swallowing the bite of sausage muffin I was chewing on, I asked, “How are we going to donate time?”

“As you know, they will be holding an auction for charity at the tree lighting festivities tomorrow night. All three of us will go up for auction.”

I didn’t like the sound of that. “What do we have to give the winner? I mean, what kind of time?”

“Thank you for asking, Izzy.” Ayden smiled again.

I wasn’t sure I liked this new, smiling boss.

“The winners will get to ride along with us for a week while we are working,” Ayden announced.

“Is that even legal?” I asked, hoping that maybe I had stumbled onto a loophole.

It wasn’t that I had anything against helping charity, but I would have preferred to sell baked goods or something along those lines. I liked to work solo, and if I had to have a partner, I was good with Tim.

“It’s perfectly legal. I already cleared it with the field office in Portland. We just need to keep them out of harm’s way, and of course we need to protect classified information,” Ayden explained.

When neither Tim nor I responded, he continued, “If you are both up for it, I’ll need you at the tree lighting tomorrow night. Besides, we have to be there anyway. With a gathering of this size, and an island full of, not so normal citizens, there could be mischief.”

“Okay boss. Whatever you say.” I smiled.

“Also, after lunch I want you both out in the field. Someone has to know something about that grave. Tim, you go talk with the family again. Izzy, you should make contact with some of your friends. See what you can find out through the grapevine.”

“You mean the witch vine?” I had to toss that out there.

“Yeah, whatever.” Ayden all but ignored me.

The boss knew that our job basically centered on crimes involving the paranormal, but he liked to ignore that fact as much as possible.

“Just see what you can find out,” he repeated.

“Will do,” I responded, already turning on my computer to get started for the day.

I figured there was no sense in telling him that I’d already been asking around about it, which might result in a reassignment to something he might deem as more productive.

For the next couple hours, I searched for any similar grave robberies over the last few years, but there was nothing in the area. Not even the theft of funeral flowers.

That was a good thing. It told me that most people had some respect for the dead. The problem was, there was obviously someone in the area that didn’t.

According to my research, London had seen its share of body snatchers during the early nineteenth century, but the practice died out after more cadavers were made available for medical school dissections.

It was the rash of grave robberies in the Highgate Cemetery during the early 1880s that caught my attention. All of them were fresh burials, just like when they were stealing bodies for medical school, although it was no longer necessary by 1880.

By that time, grave robbery was no longer a profitable endeavor, so the bodies had to have been stolen for a different reason. Even so, there was no way it could be connected to our case.

A sudden blast of cold air broke my concentration. I looked up to see Muriel sitting in the chair in front of my desk.

This time she looked like the old Muriel, instead of a corpse.

“Since you are not doing much of anything, maybe you could start working on my case?” she suggested in her usual forceful, pouting way.

True, it was phrased as a request, but I knew it was anything but. Although Muriel was a ghost from the 1950s, she was just as demanding as any teenager.

“Well, I am kind of working on something.” I pointed to the computer monitor.

Muriel waved my words away with a swipe of her dainty hand. “Anyone can do that.”

“Maybe, but it isn’t
anyone’s
job. It’s mine.”

A storm of negativity settled over her features. “You promised!”

She was right. I had promised. “Okay. Tell you what … I’ll call the sheriff and ask if I can pick up the file on my way home today.”

“Don’t forget.” Her voice echoed as she slowly faded from view.

I didn’t have the heart to tell her that there was very little chance of solving a murder that happened over sixty years ago. Not just that, but there was a good chance that her murderer was no longer among the living. If that were the case, earthly punishment wouldn’t be an option, and I had no idea how Muriel would take that kind of news.

“Muriel?” Ayden asked, sitting back in his chair.

Tim decided to answer for me. “Yeah … she wants Izzy to work on her case.”

“If you can see her … why doesn’t she ever get on you about it?” I asked.

Tim shrugged. “She must trust you more.”

Suddenly, I remembered the Halloween Ball, and how Muriel had shown up, but Tim hadn’t been able to see her.

“Why do you think you couldn’t see Muriel at the Halloween Ball?” I asked.

Tim drank down the last of his coffee and tossed the cup in the little trashcan next to his desk. “I don’t think that was Muriel you saw that night. It was something else disguised as Muriel.”

“Nice of you to share that bit of information.” I frowned. “Did this just come to you, or is it something you’ve known all along?” I asked, unable to keep my snarky attitude from coming through.

“I suspected later, when I came in the office that night and saw Muriel hovering in the doorway.”

“Then what was it I saw?” He had me a little worried. If there was something on the island, disguising itself as the dearly departed, it could mean trouble.

Tim shook his head. “I don’t know, but I can tell you that the darkness I saw around you that night, wasn’t good. Whatever it is, it is certainly a dark energy.”

For being an angel, Tim wasn’t exactly comforting.

I was about to tell him as much, but then the lights started flickering. This went on for about thirty seconds before the power went out completely.

A small amount of light made it through the tiny windows, but not enough to actually see much of anything.

Sighing, Ayden looked at me. “Will you call the electric company and ask them when they expect the power to be restored?”

Nodding, I picked up the phone and dialed information so they could connect me right to the number. A minute later, I managed to get an actual person.

A woman with a nasally voice came on the line. “Mystique Island Power. Can I help you?”

“Yes. This is Isabelle Cooper with the FBI. I was wondering if you have an estimated time for the power to be restored? We were in the middle of something when it went out.”

“I apologize for the inconvenience Miss Cooper. There was a major power draw that resulted in two blown transformers. It could be several hours before electricity is restored to the island.”

“Do they know what kind of power draw?”

“No. It only happened moments ago,” she explained.

“I see. Thanks.”

“No problem Miss Cooper. We can give you a call when we have more information.”

“That would be great. Just call the office and it will be forwarded,’ I instructed.

After thanking her again, I hung up.

“Some mysterious power draw blew a couple transformers. They don’t know when the power will come back on.”

Ayden shrugged. “Maybe it was a random gust of wind.”

“Maybe,” Tim agreed, though he didn’t look too convinced.

Ayden stood up. “It’s almost lunch anyway. We’ll just call it a day, and start with our fieldwork.”

I was all for getting out of the office. “Okay boss, but I have to make a quick call first.”

Picking up the phone, I dialed the sheriff’s office.

“Mystique County Sheriff’s Office, this is Rayanne.”

Rayanne!

What the hell was she doing working at the sheriff’s office?

I would have never expected the priestess of the Black Moon Coven to work with law enforcement.

“Rayanne. This is Special Agent Cooper with the
FBI
.” I emphasized the FBI part.

“Hello, Izzy.” Rayanne’s voice was cool, as was usually the case when she spoke with me.

“I need to pick up the Muriel Bennett file. It will probably be in the cold case storage.”

“Wasn’t that the lighthouse murder?”

“It was.”

“In that case I’ll have to talk with the sheriff. All cold case files go through him.”

“How long will that take?” I asked.

“Not long. He’s in his office now, and finding the file should be easy after I helped them with organizing their files last week.”

“That would be great. I’ll be in soon,” I told her.

I wanted to ask why she was working for the sheriff in the first place, but I didn’t think she’d give me a truthful, or civilized answer.

It was a question for my sister the next time I saw her.

The sheriff’s office would have been as dark as the lighthouse, except they had a generator that kept some of the lights on.

The tall blond woman behind the reception desk appeared far too sophisticated to be doing such mundane work.

So why was Rayanne working for the Sheriff?

I couldn’t even come up with a guess, but whatever her reason, I had a feeling it probably wasn’t good.

Everyone seemed to like and trust the Black Moon witches, even Zane Dupree and my sister, but not I. No matter how I tried to keep my personal feelings out of it, I always got the impression Rayanne was up to something.

I stepped up to the reception desk. “Did you get a chance to talk with Sheriff Bourne about the lighthouse case?”

Her perfectly painted red lips spread into a cold smile. “Sure did. Do you mind me asking why you need the file?”

“It’s a cold case. We like to work on unsolved cases when we have extra time.” I answered, making no effort to add any warmth to my voice.

“I see. Good luck with this one. It’s a dinosaur.” She handed me a thin file.

“There isn’t much here,” I commented.

Rayanne shrugged. “I’m not familiar with the case, so I’m afraid I can’t be much help.”

Well, that was the truth of the matter. The reality was, few people still alive had first-hand knowledge of the lighthouse murder, and no one in law enforcement. The sheriff would have been a small child at the time.

“Thanks for your help with this. Is the sheriff free?”

Rayanne seemed uncomfortable with my question. “Umm … he’s outside Pies & Stuff, handing out buttons.”

“Buttons?”

Rayanne nodded. “Don’t ask me. As soon as the power went out, he left with a box full of buttons. He said he was going to hand them out. Apparently it’s to help keep the town’s moral up.”

“Hmm … well, thanks again.”

Instead of going straight home, I decided to stop by Pies & Stuff and see for myself what the sheriff was up to.

Pulling up to the quaint, blue and white building, I found a parking place as close to the front as I could get.

Sure enough, Jeb was standing near the entrance with a box on the concrete beside him.

“Hello, Izzy.” He nodded, handing me a yellow smiling face pin.

“What’s this for, Jeb?” I asked, feigning only casual interest.

“I thought it would brighten everyone’s mood. Losing the lights at this time of year can be tough.”

“Okay then,” I muttered.

It wasn’t as if handing out smiley faces was a crime, even if it was weird. At least it was weird for Jeb.

“I was just curious, but do you know anything about the lighthouse murder … like were there any unofficial suspects? Did they do a thorough search of the surrounding area?”

He stared at me, a blank look in his eyes. “The lighthouse murder?”

“You know … Muriel, the most notorious ghost on the island?”

This was strange. Everyone knew about Muriel, especially those who were born islanders.

“Never mind.” I smiled. “I’m just going to get me something to eat before I head for home.”

Jeb nodded, a strange - empty grin on his face. “Don’t let the outage get you down. If you get bored, there is always the option of family game night.”

Family game night?

Now I knew there was something wrong with the sheriff. The only kind of game he’d ever cared about required a bowling ball.

Since I was already at Pies & Stuff, I figured I might as well get some takeout. A freshly baked chicken potpie would beat a frozen dinner every time.

I had no more than settled in my car when my phone rang.

“Hello,” I answered.

“Izzy … did I catch you at a bad time?” Aunt Mandy asked.

“Not at all. I was just on my way home.”

“I was wondering if I could ask a big favor of you? You know how we have Christmas Dinner scheduled for 3:00. Is there a way we can push that to a later time?”

“Sure, but why?”

There was a slight hesitation before she answered. “I was hoping I could bring Marty along, and you know how he is with the sun and all. I know you’re not thrilled about my relationship with him, but he’s practically part of the family.”

By Marty, she meant, Marty Morrison, a paranormal researcher who just happened to be a vampire, and he was dating my Aunt Mandy.

She was right, I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of my aunt dating a vampire, but who was I to complain? I had terrible taste in men.

As long as he didn’t bite her or turn her, I would make myself be okay with it.

“That’s fine Auntie. We’ll move it to 6:00.”

“Thank you.” There was a note of joy in her voice that was difficult to ignore.

Mandy was happier than I’d seen her in years. I just hoped it would last. Vampires and mortals seemed like such a bad match.

Humans were their food. One didn’t date one’s food.

Suddenly Zane’s handsome face popped into my thoughts. Remembering the part about being a vampire’s food was important if I were to keep that vampire at a distance. Zane was one vampire who could easily make me forget all the cons about dating an immortal.

“No problem. I’ll see you on Christmas,” I replied.

After ending the call, unbidden thoughts of Zane took over.

If only he weren’t a vampire, I’d be all over that one. The problem with my line of thinking was that as much as I hated to admit it, the vampire part of him was very alluring. That was exactly why I could understand my aunt’s infatuation with Marty Morrison.

* * *

When I drove up to my dark house, I was reminded of the electrician I’d forgotten to call. Not that it would have mattered since the power was out, but I made a mental note to call someone first thing in the morning. I really wanted that motion sensor light.

Grabbing the file from the passenger seat, I made a dash for the front door, doing my best to ignore the fact that it was darker than hell.

Finding the right key to open the door was tricky, but I finally managed on the third try. Since my usual ritual of running around like a mad woman to turn on all the lights, wasn’t an option, I stumbled through the house like a blind woman instead.

Eventually I found a candle in my junk drawer, along with a box of matches.

This was going to be a piece of cake. Once I had a candle lit, I’d be able to find others. Soon there would be more than enough light to have my dinner, and go over Muriel’s file.

After striking the match against the box, I held the flame to the candle’s wick until it caught. The soft glow of the flickering candlelight helped to chase away some of the shadows, which would have been great, if not for the face that came into view.

Jumping nearly out of my skin, I let a scream rip. It was a small wonder I managed to keep a hold of the candle.

Standing only two feet away was Old Salty, the sailor from Founder’s Park. Not only was this the first time I’d seen him
not
sitting on the park bench, but this time he was actually seeing me.

Usually, he just stared straight ahead at the bay with a blank look in his eyes, but not tonight.

In fact, not only did I detect life in his eyes, or something similar, but also disapproval. He stared at me with something akin to condemnation.

“Do you need help in order to cross over?” I asked.

“Not from the likes of you … a fallen angel,” he spat.

“Okay then … what are you doing in my kitchen?”

“I’m here to find out what your problem is,” he informed me with a hateful glare in his blue eyes.

“I am not the one with the problem. That would be you.” I pointed out.

The sailor shook his head, and when he did, droplets of water flew from his wet hair. That’s also when I noticed all the seaweed clinging to his clothes.

Surmising that he must be a victim of the sea, I decided he might not understand that he was deceased.

If that were the case, it was possible all that was needed was to let him know he was no longer living. “Do you realize that you’re dead?”

Cocking his head to one side, he looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. “No kidding?” he sneered.

That obviously wasn’t the problem. “Okay, if you don’t need my help, what are you doing in my kitchen?”

“I told you why … to see what your problem is.”

Uppity ghosts had a way of getting on my nerves, big time.

Throwing him one of my demon scowls, I shot back, “Seems to me that out of the two of us, I’m not the earthbound spirit dripping seawater all over my
clean
kitchen floor.”

Folding his arms in front of his broad chest, he glared at me for a long time. “Do you know who it is you are talking to?”

“Ouch!” I squealed, as drops of hot wax fell onto my hand.

I looked around for a safe place to set the candle, but all I could find was an empty coffee cup.

It would have to do.

I then turned my attention back to the pain in the ass ghost. “Actually, no I do not know who you are, but that’s probably on account of you won’t tell me.”

“The name is Marsh … Captain Marsh.” He was still scowling at me, as if I were responsible for him being in his current ghost state.

So I
had
seen Captain Marsh, and to think all this time I had no idea who the Founder’s Park ghost was.

“Well, that’s enlightening. Aren’t you only supposed to show up before something bad happens?”

“That’s what they say.” He shrugged. “Never put much stock in gossip, myself.”

“What’s your problem with me? I’ve been trying to get you to talk for months.”

“This is my island. Davy Jones has the sea, but this island and its surrounding waters are also mine,” he explained.

“Okay … so I’m still not sure what that has to do with anything, unless …” I let my words fall off as I stared at him long and hard.

“Unless you are that dark shadow I saw at the Marsh estate when I was a kid. I think that entity has been following me, and pretending to be other ghosts. That’s it! You’re the shadow!” I glared at him.

The old sea captain shook his head. “Nice try, but this time you’re wrong.”

My forehead wrinkled as I concentrated on coming up with a reason why the old salt would be in my kitchen, other than I just had a problem.

Me having a problem wasn’t exactly news. I always had a problem or two. “So spit it out then. What is my problem?”

“You haven’t cleared my name. It would be my way of thinking that you are neglecting your job.”

“Clear your name?” I repeated his words.

He nodded. “I am getting the blame for too many things that happen on this island.”

He was probably right about that, but I wasn’t sure what I could do about it.

“I’m an FBI agent, and my job usually requires that I work on current cases.” I figured it was best not to let him know I was presently working on a decades old murder case.

“Not that job.” He frowned. “The job where you are supposed to be righting wrongs.”

“Oh yeah … my redemption.” I bit at my bottom lip, trying to find a way to explain why I hadn’t cleared his name.

“I didn’t know that you were being wrongly accused. As far as my redemption, I feel I got a bad rap there. I don’t think I have done anything evil enough to go to hell in the first place.”

His expression changed from one of contempt, to pained tolerance. “I will agree that you are right about that. It is your father’s fault that you are in this position.”

My mouth fell open. “What do you mean … my father’s fault?”

“Cooper was nothing but a lowly fisherman when he happened on the stranger. That stranger promised him the world. All he had to do was agree to give up a small part of himself in exchange. He never realized that the part of himself he was giving up, was his first born.”

I gasped. “No! Are you saying he made a deal with the devil?”

Captain Marsh nodded.

“No way! My dad would never have done something like that,” I protested.

“That could be, if he had realized who he was dealing with. As your mother is an Osborne witch, he got to believing the man was just another of those quirky characters in your mother’s life.”

I wasn’t convinced. “Still. I can’t see my dad doing anything like that. Why would I have to earn redemption for something I didn’t do?”

“You know … the sins of the father and all.” A smile spread across his face.

“Are you the devil?” I asked, glaring at him through narrowed eyes.