Witch of Christmas Past (5 page)

BOOK: Witch of Christmas Past
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8.

 

My thoughts were focused on the newest, Osborne family revelation when I walked into the ACMU basement office.

I was late, but just in time to run into Tim and Ayden as they were getting ready to leave.

“What’s up?” I asked, not even bothering to go to my desk.

A frown tugged at the corners of Ayden’s mouth. “Sheriff’s office called us about some items found in a dumpster near the South Point Beach State Park. It seems that some of the items have been identified as belonging to the recently deceased that were buried at Grace Point Memorial. I think we can assume there have been more grave robberies.”

It seems strange to dump these things on the opposite end of the island,” I commented, drawing my brows together.

Tim lifted his shoulders. “Let’s go see.”

My stomach knotted up at the thought of going to South Point Beach. It was way too close to the ship graveyard, which was where the ripper nearly killed me, and also where he’d kept Granny prisoner before she’d disappeared.

Pushing the feeling away, I followed the boss and Tim out the door. We had jurisdiction over the entire island, so if I were going to do my job effectively, I would need to get over my distaste for South Point.

I rode with Tim and Ayden to the state park where the items had been found. Since South Point Beach was only a couple miles from Storm Cove, we were there in no time.

One of the Sheriff’s deputies was standing guard over a dumpster.

“What do you have?” Ayden asked.

“Take a look see for yourself,” Bradley Perkins motioned toward the dumpster.

We all gazed into the dumpster at the same time, taking care not to touch it. There were some clothes and a fishing pole.

“What makes you think this stuff belongs to the recently departed?” Tim asked as he started taking pictures with his phone.

Leaning over the dumpster, Deputy Perkins pointed to the fishing pole. “That’s my gramp’s pole. He was buried with it.”

“Are you sure?” Ayden asked.

Perkins nodded. “His funeral was only a couple weeks ago. Anyway, I gave him that pole so I’m sure I’d recognize it?”

“And he was buried at Grace Memorial?”

The deputy nodded.

“Has anyone checked the cemetery yet to see if your grandfather’s grave has been disturbed?” Tim jumped in.

“Another deputy is on his way to do that now,” he replied.

“If they do find a problem there, make sure they get CSI to go over it,” Ayden reminded the Perkins.

The deputy nodded. “Sure will.”

While the boss got on his phone to call the state CSI unit to come out and process the scene, I pulled Tim aside.

“You know this has to be a necromancer. Whoever is doing this is keeping the bodies and disregarding items that are probably worth a lot of money. Did you see that Victorian jewelry box in there? That has to be worth something.”

Tim frowned. “A necromancer would be my guess too, but we shouldn’t jump to conclusions. Has it crossed your mind that this could just be a good old-fashioned crime … and the perp is someone into necrophilia?”

Actually it had crossed my mind, but the thought was so disturbing, I tried not to contemplate it.

I decided to sidestep the issue with a question of my own. “Wasn’t the sheriff supposed to up patrols around the cemeteries? Someone should have seen something.”

“You would think,” Tim muttered.

“You might want to come over here.” Deputy Perkins waved at us.

All three of us stepped over to the dumpster and focused in the direction Deputy Perkins was pointing.

“That looks like an arm to me,” he said.

There was an entire arm amidst a pile of black garbage bags.

Ayden’s expression grew even grimmer, if that were possible. “I guess it’s time to call in Myron,”

The next couple of hours were spent hanging around while Myron and the state CSI team processed the scene.

We practically held our breath while we waited for Myron to examine the arm, as well as a set of ears that was also discovered.

The last thing Mystique Island needed was another serial killer.

Finally, Myron the Medical Examiner made his way to where the three of us were waiting.

As usual, he was wearing black clothing, along with matching nail polish and eyeliner. He was the strangest medical examiner I’d ever seen, but on Mystique Island, strange was normal.

“What do you want first, the good news or the bad?” Myron asked.

“The good news,” I answered for everyone.

Ayden threw me a look of annoyance, which meant I should let him do the talking.

He was so touchy about him being the boss.

“Well, the good news is that these body parts are full of formaldehyde … the bad news is that your grave robberies have escalated into dissecting the bodies. These parts belong to people who were already dead and buried.”

The hard lines on Ayden’s face smoothed as he relaxed a little, but there was still a frown twisting at his mouth. “Do you know of these parts come from a male or female?”

Myron shrugged. “I can’t say for sure until I get them back to the lab.”

“Thanks Myron,” Ayden said before turning to Tim and I. “Although it is a relief that we don’t have a murder on our hands, there is a family out there that has just lost someone, and now they are going to be facing even more heartache with the desecration of their loved one’s grave. We need to get find this perp and close this up as soon as possible.”

The boss man wasn’t going to get any argument out of me on that point. This was just sick and wrong. I was more than ready to hang whoever was digging up graves.

But where did we go from here?

Most of what was evidence would have to be sent to a lab. Hopefully, they would find some clue to help us out.

Other than that, we were at a standstill. There didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason behind the grave robberies.

At least there was a bright side to the situation. We could be thankful that this person was targeting the already dead, instead of just murdering people for their body parts.

But how long would the perp be satisfied with the already deceased?

With any luck we’d find him or her before their MO evolved into something even more sinister.

 

* * *

 

We hadn’t even made it half way through the morning and already the day was turning into something strange and surreal.

First I find out that Muriel, the annoying teenage ghost, is Granny’s sister, and then we discover there is someone on the island with a weird fetish for the dead.

Could the day get more bizarre?”

Soon I would regret tempting fate with such thoughts. It was just one of those days that if something could go wrong, it did.

We were buzzing along the Island Loop Road like nobody’s business when suddenly Ayden slammed on the brakes. If I hadn’t been wearing my seatbelt, I would have been slammed right into the back of Tim’s seat.

While Ayden and Tim sat there staring, their mouths agape, I was trying to decide if I was actually seeing what I thought I was seeing.

A naked man was standing in the road, but he wasn’t just any naked man. It was Elias, and he was showing off his full alpha splendor. Every muscle in his body appeared taut, as if he were ready to pounce on someone at any moment. He stared at us with the eyes of a predator, sizing up his prey.

Every inch of him screamed alpha wolf.

Scrambling out of the car, I darted up to him. “Elias! What are you doing in the middle of the road?”

At first, all he did was stare at me. There was no recognition in his eyes, only wild hunger.

“Elias!”

Suddenly, he blinked rapidly and slowly his eyes changed. I saw the first spark of realization.

Still dazed, he looked around, as if he were just now seeing where he was. “What happened?”

“You tell me. We nearly hit you,” I told him, pointing to the black SUV behind me.

He shook his head. “The last thing I remember I was out for a morning run.”

By morning run, he meant he was out hunting in his wolf form.

Ayden pulled over to the side of the road and killed the engine. Getting out, he walked around to the back of the SUV and grabbed one of the blankets he kept there for emergencies.

“Do you need a ride somewhere?” Ayden asked, handing Elias the blanket.

Elias quickly wrapped himself in the blanket, hiding his man parts. “I could use a ride … if you don’t mind.”

I knew my boss. Although he was kind enough to offer a ride to a dazed and confused stranger, he definitely had another motive. No doubt Elias would be questioned during the ride.

I was right. Almost as soon as Ayden pulled onto the road, he gazed at Elias in the rearview mirror. “Can you tell me what exactly you do remember?”

Elias stared out the side window, seemingly reluctant to talk, and I knew why. He hated to talk about the wolf part of him.

Finally, he sighed and focused his attention on Ayden’s reflection in the mirror. “I was out running and caught the scent of dead things. I recall following the scent, and then there was a sudden electrical storm. That’s the last thing I remember before waking up in the road.”

Tim cranked his head around to stare at Elias, and then his eyes met mine. We were both thinking the same thing.

There hadn’t been an electrical storm.

True, the sky was covered with dark gray clouds. That wasn’t unusual for December, but there hadn’t been any lightning, at least none that I could recall.

“Do you remember where you were when you noticed the electrical storm?” I asked.

Again he shook his head. “Sorry … it’s all a blur right now.”

His lack of memory was a little frustrating. I couldn’t shake the feeling that he might have seen something he wasn’t supposed to, and the end result was that they’d zapped his memory.

But why would a perp bother with a wolf, unless they knew he was a werewolf. It was either that or something had triggered his transformation back to his human form.

Maybe Annabelle had a spell that would help bring back his memory?

 

9.

 

It only put us about a half hour behind to take Elias to the west side of the island, which was where Roseland Village was located. When we returned to the office, it was nearly time for lunch.

Fortunately, I’d had a big breakfast because it would quickly become obvious that we weren’t going to get a lunch break.

Reverend Chadwick, from the New Hope Christian Church was waiting for us when we returned. He was standing in the parking lot, his arms folded in front of him.

The way he stood there stiff as a board, he reminded me of a statue. He was clearly upset, which was evident by the way he was glaring at us as we got out of the SUV.

The reverend wasn’t the only one waiting for us. There was also an older Spanish woman sitting on the steps to the lighthouse, but she stayed in the background, saying nothing.

Always the professional, Ayden pasted on a smile. “Hello, Reverend Chadwick. What can we do for you?”

Reverend Chadwick brought up a hand to smooth back the non-existent hair on top of his bald head.

“Well, I’ll tell you this much … it would be far more convenient for the good folks of Mystique Island if you hired a receptionist to take complaints for you when you are not in the office. This is a satellite office of the FBI, am I correct?”

“Of course.” Ayden nodded. “But we take all our calls through the sheriff’s office or our Portland office.”

“Can’t go to the sheriff with this one.” Reverend Chadwick shook his head. “Far as I know … there hasn’t yet been a crime committed, but there is something highly unusual going on.”

“Like what?” I asked.

“There’s something not right with my parishioners. Ask Mrs. Sanchez. She’s noticed it too.” He pointed to the little woman sitting on the steps.

“Why don’t you both come in and have something cold to drink? Then you tell me what has you so concerned.” Ayden suggested.

Once the boss had them settled at his desk with a cold soda, he sat back in his chair, ready to clear up their dilemma.

“So start from the beginning. What is happening that you think is weird?” Ayden asked.

After taking a drink of his soda, Reverend Chadwick set the bottle on Ayden’s desk and again folded his arms in front of him. “Well like I always do at Sunday Services, I ask my parishioners to raise their hand if they had sins or sinful thoughts to repent. The only one who raised their hand was Mrs. Sanchez.”

Connie Sanchez nodded.

Ayden looked over at the woman, before turning his attention back to the reverend. “I would think that would be a good thing.”

Reverend Chadwick shook his head. “It is unrealistic. There has never been a Sunday when at least half of my flock didn’t raise their hands.”

Looking at Mrs. Sanchez, Ayden asked, “Do you mind if I ask what prompted you to raise your hand?”

“I tell you what prompted me. It was because I lost my temper with my husband, Luis and dumped a bowl of fruit salad on his head. I believed I would need to ask the Lord to forgive my temporary craziness,” she said, a frown marring her thin lips.

I couldn’t help it. Laughter bubbled from my mouth before I could stop it.

Reverend Chadwick turned his hawk-like blue eyes on me. “You know, Izzy Cooper, it might do you some good to come to church once in a while. Your grandmother wouldn’t approve of your lack of spiritual guidance.”

Tim spoke up before I could defend myself. “I doubt it’s going to be that simple for Izzy to snag a halo,” he said, giving me a wink.

His winking didn’t stop me from giving him one of my demon death stares.

“I will certainly try to make it to church … just as soon as I can,” I told the reverend.

“Anything else?” Ayden asked, steering the conversation back to the matter at hand.

Suddenly, I remembered the strange fainting spell I’d had Saturday night and what Julius had said about it.

“Mrs. Sanchez. Can you tell me what your husband was doing on Saturday night?”

“Sure can.” She nodded. “He was sitting on his backside, listening to Mr. Aaron’s Christmas stories, while I was breaking my back in the kitchen, putting together baskets of cookies and candy for Christmas gifts.”

“And you didn’t hear the broadcast?” I asked.

She shook her head. “I am sure it was nice, but I was too busy.”

“What prompted you to dump fruit salad on your husband’s head?” I pushed for more information.

Connie brought her black brows together. “The buzzard insulted me. He got up Sunday morning and told me how beautiful I was?”

“And you found that insulting?” Ayden exclaimed.

She nodded. “It was a lie! I was in my housecoat and my hair was in curlers. That was just plain mean to make fun of me like that. He never pays me any real compliments.”

Now I could see what had upset her. “So in your opinion, he wasn’t acting normal?”

“That’s right,” She said, lifting her chin in a gesture of defiance.

Sighing, Ayden got to his feet. “We’ll look into this, Reverend.”

“I would appreciate it. There’s something not right with the people lately. Could be something in the water,” Reverend Chadwick suggested.

When the Reverend and Mrs. Sanchez left, Ayden turned to us and asked, “Have either of you noticed anything strange with the people of Strom Cove in the last few days.”

“Sure have,” I blurted. “My uncle is acting crazy, and that Christmas story of his caused me to faint. That’s why I was asking her about what her husband had been doing the night before. My friend, Julius thinks it was some kind of brainwashing broadcast.”

Tim shook his head. “I can’t say I’ve noticed anything off … except that maybe the sheriff hasn’t been around much lately. Also, I listened to that broadcast and I think I’m still pretty normal,” he added.

“It didn’t do anything to Julius either, but remember what he is, and what you are.” I pointed out.

“What is Julius?” Ayden asked, arching one brow.

Oops! I hadn’t meant to let that one out. The boss knew I had a friend named Julius, but he didn’t really know what Julius was.

“He’s kind of a demon,” I answered.

“A demon! You’re hanging out with demons now?” Ayden frowned.

“Well, kind of but not really. He’s really here to lead me astray, but actually he helps me out a lot.” I found myself defending Julius.

“Don’t forget what Izzy is.” Tim put in.

“I don’t,” Ayden grumbled. “By the way, why are there no ghosts giving you hints about what’s happening?”

“Maybe no one is dead yet. Besides, I have been working on Muriel’s case too. She gives me hints sometimes.”

“I see,” Ayden said, though I could tell he really didn’t.

“Do you mind if I leave a little early today. I need to stop by the Sandbar and talk with Annabelle, and then go have a talk with my uncle.”

“Don’t question him on his broadcast yet,” Ayden advised.

“Actually, I already did. He told me that it was a recorded broadcast and that he wasn’t even at the station. He claimed to be out fishing.”

“Since when does Aaron go fishing?” Tim asked in disbelief.

“My point exactly.”

“Just make sure you are at Founder’s Park by 6:00 for the tree lighting,” Ayden reminded me as I was on my way out the door.

I still had three hours. That gave me plenty of time to have a talk with Annabelle and my uncle about some Osborne family business, like the kind that had been kept secret from me for my entire life.

There was no telling if Annabelle would know anything about it, but with Uncle Aaron being older, there was a chance he knew something about my father’s deal with the devil, and Muriel.

My first stop was the Sandbar, but as soon as I pulled into the parking lot, I knew it had been a wasted trip. My sister’s red Camaro was usually parked out front, and it wasn’t there.

Instead of wasting time going inside, I decided to drive straight to her new Condo on Sea Spray Drive. A few minutes later, I was parking Lady Luck next to Annabelle’s Camaro.

The Sea Spray Village Condominiums were gorgeous. Annabelle had it all, a hot tub, swimming pool, and a gym. She even had a great view of the sea from her balcony.

I was a little envious of my sister’s success, but I was also happy for her. Condo living wasn’t for me anyway. I had a habit of turning my stereo up too loud, which might bug the uppity neighbors.

After knocking on Annabelle’s door, I tried to open it like I usually do, but it was locked. That was a first. My sister never locked her door.

Even during the Ripper escapades, she hadn’t bothered to lock her door. I figured that probably had to do with the fact that she was one of the most powerful witches on the island. She probably didn’t think she had much to fear.

The not locking the door thing was definitely a habit she was going to have to change. If there was one thing I had learned during my time with the Monster Squad, it was anyone could be vulnerable at some point.

I knocked again. “Annabelle! It’s me!”

A moment later the door opened.

At first I was too shocked to say anything. All I could do was stare.

I wasn’t sure who it was I was looking at, but it wasn’t my sister. This evil, Holly Homemaker twin looked just like Annabelle, but I knew my sister wouldn’t be caught dead in the flower print dress that looked like something that might have been all the rage in the early 60s. Her shoes were atrocious.

My sister was the queen of spiked heels, and here she was in some flats that would have been better suited for attending one of Reverend Chadwick’s Sunday sermons.

Annabelle smiled. “Oh, Isabelle! I wasn’t expecting you this evening.”

My jaw dropped. “Are you on drugs?”

“Don’t be a silly goose. I just have a dinner date.”

“Really? And it looks as if you are cooking for this date?”

Annabelle nodded. “That reminds me … I have to pull my apple pie out of the oven.”

Now I knew something was wrong. The only thing Annabelle ever cooked for her dates were schemes on how to break their hearts. She preferred that men went out of their way for her. Not the other way around.

My sister, or the imposter pretending to be my sister, flew to the kitchen, leaving me to stand there at her door.

I followed her inside without being invited. “So who is this date?”

“Oh Malcolm is coming over for dinner,” Annabelle answered as she was pulling a pie out of the oven.

And it actually looked edible.

“Malcolm Skeet?” I echoed in disbelief.

My sister and Malcolm got along about as good as vampires and werewolves. There was no way Annabelle would ever agree to go out with him, let alone cook him a homemade meal.

“Of course.” She nodded, that empty smile still pasted on her face.

Just then Malcolm walked in. When he saw me leaning against the breakfast bar that separated the kitchen from the dining room, he appeared shocked.

“Hello, Isabelle. I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

Jeez! What the heck was it with everyone calling me Isabelle?

“Yeah, I’ll bet.” I frowned. “When did you start dating my sister?”

“This isn’t actually a date. We’re just having a little visit.”

“Is that so? So tell me, Skeet … what’s your favorite rock group?” I asked, figuring if he were brainwashed, like some of the other people on the island appeared to be, he might not remember.

He gave me a blank stare and then answered. “The Dixie Rebels of course. You know that.”

“I thought you liked Sabbath more? You have more Dixie Rebels music, but that is because they released more.” I pointed out.

He gazed at me, a blank look in his eyes.

At that point, I wasn’t sure what to do. If I continued to confront them, and they really were brainwashed, there was a possibility they could turn violent, and I had no backup.

“My mistake,” I said with a shrug of my shoulders.

When they didn’t respond, I continued, “I should be going since I still have to stop and see Aaron.”

This got a reaction.

Skeet shook his head. “Aaron’s not home. I stopped by there on my way here.”

“Maybe he’s already at the station,” I suggested, though I knew he wasn’t at the lighthouse when I left.

“Nope. Went there too.”

“Okay then. Maybe I’ll just catch him tomorrow.” Waving goodbye, I showed myself out.

As soon as I got in the car, I dialed Ayden’s number.

“Hello,” he answered.

“Hey, boss. I am afraid Reverend Chadwick could be right. I just stopped by to visit Annabelle, and it was like an episode of the
Twilight Zone
. Something is wrong with the people on the island.”

BOOK: Witch of Christmas Past
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