A Hiss-tory of Magic: A Wonder Cats Mystery Book 1 (9 page)

A
s Bea filled
the food and water dishes for all three cats, I made pancakes and eyed the morning sky suspiciously from the kitchen window. The sun shone bright over the neighbors walking their dogs, the shingles of the suburban houses, and the police cars driving by on their way to Aunt Astrid’s home.

When the pancakes stacked higher than the distance between Bea’s elbow and her wrist, she yelled at me to stop.

“What are they waiting for?” I wondered aloud. “They have what they wanted, our spell book. Why aren’t they using it?” I ate my pancakes over the countertop by the sink so I could keep looking at the sky suspiciously.

Bea, at the table, spooned maple sugar over her pancakes and bacon. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’ve read that book from cover to cover—only once, but…” Bea didn’t need to be so modest. She had a great memory for everything she read. “I can only guess that every one of those spells comes at too high a cost for them. It isn’t just a spell book. It’s almost a how-to manual on different human sacrifices!”

“Between Ted and Aunt Astrid, the Order obviously isn’t squeamish about hurting other people.” I remembered what Treacle had told me the night before. “Treacle did some investigating, too. He smelled something in Aunt Astrid’s nuclear bunker. Forensics probably wouldn’t think to look for it, and I wouldn’t even recognize it with my human nose.”

Treacle and Peanut Butter sniffed each other’s noses. Then Treacle, on a mission and tail up, stalked out the door.

The doorbell rang. I started, grabbed for something in the kitchen that I could use as a weapon, and bolted after Treacle.

“Cath, calm down!” Bea called after me.

Through the door, I could hear Jake’s laughter and a voice that sounded like Blake’s except that it was happy. I recognized it as Blake’s for certain when he said, “Okay. Bye, kitty!”

I opened the door as Bea jogged up to me.

“Cath,” she said, wrenching my weapon from my hand, “that’s an egg beater!”

I had dripped pancake batter all down the hall. Peanut Butter was licking it off the floor behind me.

Jake looked from Bea to me and back. “Either way, Cath wasn’t going to hurt us.”

“Rough night?” Blake ventured.

“Good morning,” I answered stubbornly. “I made too many pancakes. Please come in and eat some.”

Blake and I went down the hall first.

Bea took her husband’s hand and murmured, “They’re both learning human ways!”

“I know! I’m so proud,” Jake murmured back.

I turned to glower at them. “I can hear you!” Just because I wasn’t a social butterfly like Bea, that didn’t mean I was socially awkward.

We all sat at the kitchen table. Bea bustled about, being the good hostess, getting the extra glasses and asking who was on shift or stakeout to guard her mother.

I should have been the one making our guests comfortable and asking those questions, but I was too busy wracking my brain for why the Order would wait to cast such powerful spells as the ones in our spell book.

Jake spoke first. “The lead with the Order was a major breakthrough.”

“Don’t get their hopes up,” Blake said to him. “The social network on the Order’s official website doesn’t list everyone. Min Park wasn’t on it because he quit lickety-split, and some higher-up members get certain privileges.”

“It’s still further than we would have gotten in two days following French organized crime syndicates.” Jake gave Blake the look I imagine fathers give their sons to remind them of something they’d been scolded for, and I realized Blake was still covering for me. Jake might have known I was investigating privately, but if he’d known I’d tampered with evidence… Well, Jake just might have found it in himself to be meaner.

“The Order is exclusive,” Blake said. “They’re superstitious but not any less macho.”

“So?” I said. “Would they break into Aunt Astrid’s home, attack her, even kill her chef, just because she did tarot card readings and tea leaf readings? Why not start killing in Sedona? Or Glastonbury, on the other side of the pond?”

“That’s what we’re trying to say,” Jake said. “Mrs. Colette Lanier had a reputation in her town for giving astrology readings, up until her death from cyanide-poisoned biscuits.”

“That were star-shaped,” Blake scoffed. “It’s just the sort of message the Order would send. Those cowards!”

Jake nodded. “The Order has a worldwide network. Maybe it wasn’t Ted’s dad who crossed the wrong people, but his mom.”

Bea and I looked at each other. I knew we were both thinking the same thing. She and I have had to hide that we were witches all our lives. Aunt Astrid let it slip a little for harmless fun, and someone broke into her home and attacked her. Mrs. Lanier was poisoned to death, and we don’t even know if she was a real witch. But the Order was allowed to have an online social network. It wasn’t fair.

“New legacy,” Blake said ponderously. “New blood, new people, new initiative, new mode of operations… and judging from their lodges—which have gone into disrepair since my old man’s time—not as many resources to cover up their criminal ventures. You can only pull strings to get someone out of jail from outside of jail.”

“We’ve got security on high alert both around the perimeter of this house and around your mother’s hospital room,” Jake assured his wife.

Bea said, “I still want to stay with her. Maybe my being there would help.”

I knew it would help Astrid. I was just afraid of what it would do to Bea. “Take Marshmallow with you,” I said to her.

Jake looked doubtful. “I don’t think having a cat in the hospital room would be very hygienic—”

“But Mom loves Marshmallow,” Bea said.

I said, “She needs the drip removed and a vet’s checkup, too. Aunt Astrid wanted to have him groomed the day of the fire, but she was too tired.”

“If he’s groomed first, it should be fine,” Blake added. “Besides, what’s a hospital but a vet for people? And you never hear at a vet’s that it’s not hygienic to have people running around.”

I wouldn’t have put it that way, and maybe Jake was already convinced, but in any case, after that, Jake and Bea left with Marshmallow.

Blake saw them off then turned to ask me what I’d been hiding from him. I knew he would. He’d prepared me without knowing it.

I interrupted, “Have you logged into your account on the Order’s website?”

He looked at me with surprise.

“Really? Had nobody in the police department thought of that?”

T
he Wonder Falls Police Department
outsourced its computer savvy to Winnifred Hansen, whose image matched the wholesomeness of her name. She made video tutorials for quilting and knitting that Aunt Astrid loved. I hadn’t known she’d also coded and designed the websites for every major business in Wonder Falls. She knew a lot more about computers than that too, if you can believe it.

Blake and I met the middle-aged Mrs. Hansen at her house to tell her our plan. For someone on the cutting edge of technology, she wasn’t much for getting straight to business. She made Blake and me coffee and suggested that the Brew-Ha-Ha be made into an Internet café.

“Forget the small-town charm of Old Wonder Falls,” she told me. “I haven’t seen the sun in days, and I’m just fine.”

Blake faked a cough to tell me to be cautious.

Winnifred caught it instantly. “Hey,” she said, “I’m helping your investigation, aren’t I?” She grinned mischievously. “So, if some whippersnapper with an entrepreneurial spirit and a lousy attitude finds her website under”—the next part was lost in a whirlwind of jargon that I doubt even Bea would have been able to decipher—“and it’s allegedly by me, then what are you going to do?”

“We’ve got laws against that,” Blake objected. “I would not recommend it.”

I understood the first part, or I thought I did—Darla. I’m not the only one in town who doesn’t take to Darla Castellan.

“I understand that the lady in question has that effect on people,” I told Mrs. Hansen sympathetically. Of course, I’d never done magic to ruin Darla’s life, and hacking might as well be something like magic done by nonwitches. I felt a little guilty, egging on Mrs. Hansen to use her skills against someone else, so I added, “She’d be more occupied by her divorce proceedings, I’ve heard.”

“Oh,” Mrs. Hansen said. “I’ve been divorced a few times. It’s a hassle, I can tell you. I’ll go easy on her from now on, then. Goodness knows there’s been worse than her in town, lately.”

That prompted us to remind her of the Order, and she led us into her den, where her computer was. After that, Blake simply had to sit down and type.

After he’d logged in, Mrs. Hansen nudged him aside and set about browsing. She observed, “Well, Detective Samberg, if you were afraid of stalkers, I can tell you not to worry. The permissions on your account say ‘sour grapes’ to me!”

I asked, “What does that mean? Is Blake’s account no good?”

“Not entirely. I have more access now than I’ve had for hours, but everything important is encrypted. Of course it is. Whether I try to figure out which members of this site might be in Wonder Falls or who else in Wonder Falls might be on this site…” Mrs. Hansen shrugged. “I only have two hands.”

Blake sighed, but not with relief. He said, “I know what would make this easier. Excuse me, Mrs. Hansen…”

Blake went to a chat box and typed, “Moved to Wonder Falls. Done some thinking. Time to rejoin the brotherhood.”

“Are you sure about this?” I asked Blake.

Blake shook his head.

I took his hand. “Then don’t do it.”

“But there are innocent people being attacked,” Blake murmured.

I drew myself up. “You shouldn’t be one of them. I don’t want you to be one of them!”

Mrs. Hansen scoffed, reached over, and pressed the Enter key.

“Mrs. Hansen!” I shrieked.

“Oh, spare me. Samberg knew what would make this easier. He was right.”

Blake stared at the screen in mute horror, so I spoke up. “You’re out of line! Those are very dangerous people!”

“You think that was out of line? Honey, you haven’t seen anything yet.” Winnifred typed a string of numbers I didn’t recognize, followed by the words, “Message me.”

Blake found his voice too late. After Mrs. Hansen put that message through, he said, “That’s my cell-phone number.”

“Consider it a burner.” Mrs. Hansen looked him over and said sarcastically, “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you had such a full address book and active social life.”

Blake’s phone rang. He leaped up and backed away as if a dog were attacking him. He wriggled his phone out of his pocket and threw it in the air.

I caught it. “Calm down, Blake! I’ll answer it. They’ll think it’s a wrong number and hang up.”

“No!” Blake said. “They’ll hunt you down for that alone. Give it back to me. I’ll play along with them until we can get them behind bars.”

I lobbed the phone back at him. He caught it, steeled himself, and then crumpled. “I can’t. I can’t do it.”

I wrenched the phone from him and actually looked at the screen that time. “Oh, it’s just Jake.” I answered the phone. “Hi, Ja—”

“There’s been another fire,” Jake said. “Meet me at 78 Whitewater Street, corner of Black Lake Bank. It’s in Old Wonder Falls.”

“That’s Nadia LaChance’s place!” I said.

“Cath?”

I tossed the phone to Blake, who caught it and said, “Yeah, I’m on the move. Mrs. Hansen?”

Mrs. Hansen had begun typing furiously. “See yourselves out. Lock the door behind you. I’ll call Chief Talbot if anything comes up, and you’re welcome for the coffee.”

On the way out, Blake asked me, “Who’s Nadia LaChance?”

“At the insurance office yesterday morning—you couldn’t have missed her,” I said to him. “She’s the closest Wonder Falls town ever came to having a Goth girl, so she stuck with that fashion all the way through her twenties. The Order’s really scraping the barrel, aren’t they? If they’re targeting anybody who looks the slightest bit like they believe in magic, should we be guarding the kindergarten next?”

“It must be more than that,” Blake said. “Cath, what aren’t you saying?”

“She hates my guts. She has ever since…”—well, scratch that theory—“yesterday, after the fire. Umm…” What else was there to say? “She has a live-in girlfriend, so this could be a hate crime. She has an artistic Bohemian twin sister.”

Blake took all that in. “Maybe she and her twin dress up like each other to trick people, and one of them is evil.”

“Now
that’s
scraping the barrel!”

W
hen Blake and I arrived
, I was horrified at catching sight of Treacle on the second-story balcony of Nadia’s house.

“I found the smell! What I smelled yesterday!”
Treacle thought to me.
“She’s still inside!”
Treacle sent me an image of the interior of the house.

“Treacle, get out of there!”
I thought.

“She fed me treats! She always does! When she didn’t this time, I knew it was because of these other people who came downstairs and went away. They left the door open, so I went upstairs and found her like this. They started this fire. Maybe she saw their faces!”

Out in front, the fire brigade seemed to be having some problems with the nearest hydrant. Reuben Connors was almost laughing. “Let it burn out! It’ll be fine.”

Blake was just looking in the direction I was—he didn’t know what Treacle had told me. “He’s a smart cat,” Blake said. “He’ll find his own way out. Cath?”

I glowered at Reuben, looked back at the balcony, steeled myself, and—despite Blake’s protests—ran into the burning building.

The smoke and ash stung my eyes, and the heat was like an oven. I pulled the front of my shirt over my nose and mouth so I could breathe and ran through the fire as quickly as I could. Flames won’t burn unless you actually touch them for more than three seconds, but they were growing, and I was surprised by how quickly I ran out of air because the smoke was so thick. I felt I was drowning without any water.

When I got to the bedroom, I was squinting so hard I had to close my eyes and just feel around for the body. The image Treacle had sent me helped, but at that moment, I wondered if I’d gotten myself into real trouble.

I felt a leg then an arm. No time to check whether she’d broken any bones or bled out anywhere—I couldn’t see a thing.

I hauled the slackened body up and heard something drop, like a phone—maybe she had called the fire brigade herself. Then I half dragged, half carried Nadia to the balcony. On my back, she shifted. Good. She was still alive.

I took a huge, gasping inhalation of open air. It wasn’t exactly fresh because it was still tainted by enough ash and smoke to make me cough.

The long ladder from the fire truck reached the balcony. Treacle hopped onto the roof, took a running start, and leaped. He landed safely in the sprawling branches of a nearby maple tree and scurried the rest of the way down.

N
adia had regained
consciousness by the time we reached the ground again. The rescue left parts of my skin feeling as though I had awful sunburn, and even though I was glad I could breathe again, few smells are fouler than singed hair.

Nadia shook off the firefighters who tried to get her onto a gurney and into the ambulance or even to give her a blanket. She walked toward me. “They say you ran in to save me while the place was on fire,” she said. “I guess you’re not so bad after all.”

I guess you’re not so bad after all?
I gave her a disdainful blink. “Gosh, Nadia, can you hold a grudge or something?” I had to remember she might have stolen the book.

“Hey,” Nadia chuckled, “I’m not like your cousin. I’m not made of hugs, you know?”

“Nadia!” Ruby elbowed her way past Fire Chief Gillian and tottered over to throw her arms around Nadia. “You should have gone shopping with Darla and me! This never would have happened.”

“I have no regrets,” Nadia said flatly. “She spent the night here to talk about nothing but herself. We’re too old for slumber parties, and a few seconds was always too much Darla for me.”

“Nobody actually lives in this part of Old Wonder Falls anymore,” I said. “The whole block could have gone up in flames before someone other than Nadia phoned the fire brigade. Great thing you got this place insured, huh?”

Ruby grumbled, “Processing takes a while, at least in Sutherland’s hands. But I’m so glad you’re safe!” She hugged Nadia again. The smell of artificial jasmine cut through the smell of burnt hair. She pulled away enough to ask, “You shouldn’t have called if that meant it left you smothered almost to death!”

Nadia said, “Those jerks broke my cell phone! I wasn’t about to wander around alone looking for a phone booth.”

I asked her, “Did you see who might have done this, then?”

“Yeah!” Nadia said. “They weren’t from around here. I clawed this one guy’s stocking off his head, and I didn’t hit my head or anything.”

“I’ll go and get you a lineup, then.” I edged away and wandered the crowd.

Treacle found me.

“That,”
I told Treacle,
“was very reckless of you.”

“We’re closer to the truth!”
Treacle objected.

“We’re too far from anything that makes sense!”
I thought back to the beginning—Ted Lanier had been given a concussion and the Brew-Ha-Ha set on fire in predawn morning. Aunt Astrid was given a concussion in her own home—but no fire—and the attack had happened in the early evening. Nadia LaChance, in her own home, had no concussion, and the attack had taken place at noon. If there was a group of agents from the Order doing this, then maybe they were working in shifts.

I needed Blake.

“Blake!” I called out to the crowd, but I couldn’t find him. I picked Treacle up. “Blake! Samberg!”

One of the police cars had its driver’s window rolled down. When the police radio on the dashboard started its static sound, I picked it up.

Jake was saying, “Samberg, please copy!”

So it was Blake’s car.

“The fire’s done,” I told Jake. “It was definitely the Order’s doing, but Nadia’s alive—able and willing to identify them. Did you try Blake’s phone? I can’t find him either.”

“His cell’s busy. We’re the only people he knows!”

My heart sank. “We’re not the only people who know his number, though.”