Deadly Magic
Authors: Elisabeth Crabtree
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Humor & Satire, #Humorous, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Cozy, #Animals, #General Humor
Deadly Magic
(A Grace Holliday Mystery)
Elisabeth Crabtree
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced without the written permission of the author.
First Printing, November 2012
V1
1/1/13
Book cover designed by Susan Coils at
www.coverkicks.com/
Illustrations: Bigstock.com
Author’s Note
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters and situations are completely fictional and a work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead is purely coincidental.
Other books in the Grace Holliday Cozy Mystery Series
Murder Games
(Coming soon)
Table of Contents
Halloween
Sunday, October 31
st
9:20 pm
Someone wanted her
dead. She didn’t know who or why, but she knew with sickening certainty that someone wanted to kill her.
She lean
ed over the railing and looked at the audience below, as she wiped her sweaty palms against her legs. She knew that they couldn’t see her, but it didn’t stop her from nervously scanning their faces for any sort of reaction. She repeated the incessant mantra that had been running through her mind since landing in New York a few days before. Everything will be fine. Don’t worry. There’s nothing to worry about.
She shook her head as she repeat
ed the words again. Franklin was right. It’s silly. Why in the world would anyone want to kill her? She closed her eyes and counted to ten. She felt the muscles in her body relax, as she took a deep breath and opened her eyes.
Wincing, a
t the sudden, thunderous applause that echoed through the theater, she leaned further out over the railing and looked down at the stage. Ilya, finally free from his restraints and the electrified cage, had just materialized in the middle of the stage to the astonishment of the crowd. He threw the chains to the side of the stage, briefly glancing up as they clattered across the old wooden floor.
The magician paus
ed for a second, surprised to see her standing on the scaffolding. She grimaced. He was probably wondering what she was doing up here so early. She shrugged her slim shoulders somewhat apologetically, remembering how he hated surprises, which she always felt was rather ironic considering his choice in careers. Giving a slight shake of his head, he turned back to the roaring crowd and gave them a brilliant smile.
Her
heart skipped a beat. She missed this. Missed the applause. The laughter. The excitement. The way the crowd sat at the edge of their seat, trying to watch their every move. She missed the fun of it all.
Of course
, not everyone was having fun, she thought ruefully, looking back out toward the audience. Squinting her eyes, she could just make out her husband, sitting in the fifth row, playing with his phone.
He’s probably ready to go home, she thought in amusement. He hates parties. She smil
ed. Well, he’s going to enjoy this one. He’ll be so surprised. She felt calmer just looking at him. It was so good to be home. Everything was going to be fine. Taking a deep steadying breath, she reached out and checked the supports once again.
Everything will be fine
, she repeated to herself.
But w
ill it? The doubt started again. Someone had tried to kill her a few months ago. Before she left for France. Before she ran away. She was certain. There were far too many accidents, in too short of a time, to be mere coincidences.
She had felt safer t
he instant she touched down in Paris four months ago. Since that moment there had been no more strange mishaps. No more odd illnesses. Just those maddening letters, but as irritating those letters were, they were nothing compared to those accidents. She was safe in Europe. Whoever it was that wanted to hurt her, obviously couldn’t get to her there.
Fear start
ed snaking down her spine. She reflexively checked the supports again, as her stomach twisted itself into knots. She shouldn’t have come back. What if they try again?
She glanc
ed back out at the audience. If only she knew who was trying to kill her. If only she had some idea, she could protect herself. She had made out a possible list of suspects while in Europe. To her mortification, it wasn’t a very impressive list, nor was it too terribly long.
She
narrowed her eyes, as a sneer crossed her face. They were out there. Watching the show. Her eyes focused in on them one by one. Weak-willed, pathetic, spineless, brown-nosers, every last one of them. It would be absolutely humiliating to be murdered by one of them. She told Franklin, before she left, that he should clean house. The company could function just as well with just a third of the staff. It couldn’t possibly do any worse. Fire the majority of them, she said. Even Louisa. Especially Louisa, she thought bitterly. Such a hateful brat. To her surprise, he seemed to agree—at first.
She felt her jaw clench. Franklin’s far too
loyal and far too generous. It’s no wonder that his company’s circling the drain. She dropped the silks and gripped the railing, as she shook her head. It has to be someone else. It can’t possibly be one of those incompetent fools down there. She had no doubt that each one would gladly attend her funeral, but she doubted they had the guts to try something, at least not without fouling it up or giving up after the first failure. No. It can’t be one of them. It has to be someone determined. Someone capable of killing without mercy or remorse. Someone dangerous. Someone . . .
Dizzily, sh
e looked down at the stage. What if . . .? She felt her heart beat faster as the blood rushed to her head. No. Not Ilya. They had been friends for years. Surely, he couldn’t still be mad about the boy. She felt a momentary pang of guilt before squashing it down. It turned out all right in the end. Ilya couldn’t still be angry. After all, he happily agreed to let her perform with him tonight. Just like old times.
Closing
her eyes, she took a deep breath. Everything will be fine. Tomorrow she’ll talk to Franklin about hiring a bodyguard. He’ll complain about the cost, but he’ll do it. He loves her. He’d do anything for her.
The scaffolding creak
ed underneath her feet as she walked over to the steps. Everything would be fine. She smiled, imagining Franklin’s surprise when she appeared on stage. He’ll be so pleased.
Halloween
9:00 pm
The
Dragon’s Lair
shook. Grace Holliday instinctively looked up at the swaying chandeliers above her head. Despite knowing that she was perfectly safe, she gripped the sides of her armrests and forced her attention back to the stage.
In the split second it took her to look up and back down, the previously empty stage had transform
ed into a veritable zoo. Four tigers, two lions, and one man now stood before the audience.
“
Ladies and Gentlemen! Welcome to the Dragon’s Lair!”
Grace grinn
ed and clapped like an idiot before remembering the incredibly handsome man sitting next to her. She quickly wiped the smile from her face and lowered her hands. Despite the fact, she'd been basically stalking the man for two months straight, this was still technically a first date and she decided a little more decorum might be in order. No reason to scare him away the first night.
Grace slid further down in her seat and attempt
ed to adopt a more nonchalant air. “That was interesting,” she whispered, risking a glance at her date. One elegant eyebrow was arched over a deep dark hazel eye. He looked decidedly entertained. Grace feared his amusement was more at her than at the entertainer on stage.
“
Having fun?” he whispered back.
Torn between jumping up and down in excitement and pretending she was only mildly interest
ed, Grace felt herself nod her head like a deranged bobble head. “It’s okay,” she sniffed. “It should be an interesting night. Have you ever been to a magic show before?” she asked, only to have the woman next to her shush her.
Ethan
smiled at the woman on the other side of Grace before silently shaking his head and refocusing his attention back to the stage, which now included a llama, a turkey, and three scantily clad female assistants in cages.
Grace
tried not to take it personally, as she turned back toward the stage. She eagerly leaned forward in her seat. She had been excited about this night for a while now. It was her boss, Franklin Straker’s, fiftieth birthday and for the last five years he had insisted on a lavish costume bash in celebration of his birthday, which falls on Halloween. This year’s celebration, like the last two was being held at the Dragon’s Lair, a grand, Gothic styled magic theatre in the heart of New York.
Senators, lawyers,
stockbrokers, actors, and news reporters were all invited and dressed as various goblins and ghouls as their station in life demanded. Anyone who was anyone or rather anyone that could possibly help Straker in some way was invited to his birthday party. That usually did not include his employees, of course.
In honor of his birthday, his employees
usually received the dubious honor of working late without pay. Grace wasn’t sure how that happened every year, but this year was different. Two weeks ago, each employee had received formal invitations to the annual party. Of course, it seemed far more like an order than an actual invitation, but Grace didn’t care. She was here and that’s all that mattered.
The more pessimistic
members of the office were convinced Straker had some kind of ulterior motive behind the invitation. The office pool was taking bets on the various levels of hell, Sata-Straker was intending to put them through tonight. The pool ranged from being forced to work as servers to being literally sawed in half. Grace had to admit it wasn’t until just a few seconds before the lights dimmed and the building shook, that she finally started to relax and enjoy the evening’s entertainment. She had twenty on parking cars, but here she sat happily sitting next to the man of her dreams. At least her dreams of the last two months.
Grace glanc
ed down at her cowgirl costume and grimaced. She wished she hadn’t been so frugal this year and had splurged on the harem genie outfit she had seen on the internet. At the last second, she had worried about wearing such a revealing costume to, what was essentially, a work party.
She glanc
ed back at her handsome date, dressed like a thirties gangster, complete with fedora and toy pistol. If she had known her fantasy man of the last few months would be her escort, she would have risked the potential embarrassment and had gone with the sexier genie costume. Pigtail braids and a knee-length skirt with fringe hem and matching fringe vest just did not scream sexy. Sighing softly, she played with the fringe on the hem of her skirt.
Ethan
turned to look at her. Smiling, he laid his arm across the back of her seat. His fingertips just grazing her shoulder.
Grace relax
ed back into her seat. Everything was perfect.
She
felt a tap on her shoulder. Curious, she looked up at Ethan who, with a strange expression, was looking up and over her head. She glanced behind her and cringed. Standing directly behind her seat was an angelic Franklin Straker dressed in a white flowing robe with matching halo perched above his head—the irony of the costume was not lost on any of his employees.
He tower
ed over her seat, his cool blue eyes boring into hers. “Find Valerie,” he growled, before turning around and stumbling over the people sitting behind her. Grace sighed heavily and tried not to wince at the sound of the “owws,” “shhs” and “would you move your legs” wafting from behind her.
Whispering a small apology
to Ethan, Grace stood up and tried to make it down the aisle without stepping on anyone’s toes. She almost made it to the end upright and with her dignity intact. Almost. A well-timed foot hooking around her ankle brought her face down in the aisle.
A cold clammy hand wrapp
ed around her upper arm and pulled her upright. She looked up and silently swore. Grace was so focused on trying not to step on anyone, while simultaneously whispering sorry to every person she passed, that she failed to notice Allen Madison, the office menace and bane of her existence, sitting at the end of the aisle, dressed as a creepy looking blue roach with a crown perched on his slicked back blue hair. Except for the crown sitting on his head, the costume was fitting, Grace thought.
“
Be careful, Grace. You wouldn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of the boss,” he said smugly, gripping her arm tightly.
Grace look
ed around at the audience hoping that everyone’s attention was focused on the stage and not on her. Except for Ethan who was still staring at her with a sort of bemused expression, she seemed to escape notice.
“
Thanks, Allen,” she said, driving her heel into his foot once she was standing. “You’re too kind.”
Only after hearing him grunt in pain, did she finally move into the aisle and make her way to the back of the theater. Grace glanced back to the stage.
The three
tigers stood on a small pedestal in the center of the stage. With each flick of the magician’s hand the tigers, one by one, did a back flip, disappearing in midair. Sighing, she placed her Stetson on her head, opened the doors, and stepped into the lobby.
Weaving her way past a small crowd surrounding a
magician performing card tricks, Grace walked down a grand staircase. Pausing every so often, hoping to catch a glimpse of Straker’s personal secretary and Grace’s best friend. Walking past the bar and toward the entrance, she pulled out her cell phone and quickly dialed Valerie’s number.
She resist
ed the urge to stamp her foot when Valerie’s phone went straight to voice mail. “Valerie, where are you?” Grace hissed into the phone.
“
Right behind you.”
Whirling around she found herself face to face with her missing friend
, dressed as a very pretty Marilyn Monroe. A platinum blonde wig covering her long brown hair.
“
You’re late,” Grace said in a singsong voice. “You know who is asking for you.”
“
Asking? Since when does the old goat ask for anything?” Valerie grabbed a champagne flute from a nearby waiter and downed it in one shot. “Besides, I’m not late. I’ve been here since four o’clock this afternoon. Desperately, trying to drum up attendance. Half of our office has called in sick. Will has a sinus infection. Denise’s kids are sick. Again. Henry has the flu. Sara’s excuse was the most inventive. She claimed that she threw her purse away when she threw her garbage out. She didn’t realize what had happened until the garbage man took it away. Unfortunately, she just can’t make it tonight. Personally, I think she should get points for originality. It’s bad, Grace. They all know that attendance tonight was mandatory.”
“
Why? Straker usually couldn’t care less. I’m still surprised we were invited.” Grace felt that gnawing feeling of dread return. “Why did he want us here?”
Valerie shook her head. “He didn’t invite you all. It was
Lil—” she suddenly snapped her mouth shut.
“Who invit
ed us?”
“I can’t say,” she said reluctantly. “It’s suppos
ed to be a surprise.”
“Are we going to end up parking cars?”
“No. Relax. We’re just here to feed her enormous ego.”
Grace was about to ask her friend to explain, when she notic
ed a persistent buzzing coming from the cell phone in Valerie’s hand. “Are you going to get that?” Grace asked, pointing to the cell phone.
Valerie
looked at the caller ID and sighed. Handing Grace her empty glass, she asked for a refill before turning on her heel and walking to an empty corner of the lobby.
Shrugging, Grace turn
ed around and headed to the bar. She walked past a crowd of people who were milling around the small bar, set into the wall and stopped suddenly. Her company’s Vice President, Louisa Straker Burns, was standing at the far end of the bar. She was leaning against the bar, a thin manicured hand wrapped around a tall thin glass. Grace watched as she unsteadily brought it to her lips, splashing some of the dark liquid on her costume. Louisa stared down at her chest. She made a few ineffectual swipes at the stain spreading across her bust before pushing herself away from the bar and walking toward the ladies’ room.
Grace breath
ed a sigh of relief. With any luck, she could get Valerie’s drink refilled before Louisa returned. She was so focused on squeezing through a group clustered around the bar that she didn’t realize Louisa had changed her mind and returned to the bar until she heard her name called.
“
Gracie,” Louisa called out, one thin arm snaking out to grab Grace’s arm and bring her closer. “I am so glad you are here,” she slurred, throwing an arm around Grace’s shoulders.
Grace cring
ed. Talking to Louisa was like navigating a minefield. When intoxicated she was usually very friendly, very talkative, and downright annoying. Constantly grabbing and clutching in order to keep whomever she was speaking to from leaving, while simultaneously prying out information like a seasoned detective. When sober she was standoffish, cold, and even more annoying with the uncanny ability to remember everything you said and did when she was drunk, but absolutely nothing she said or did.
Grace look
ed down at Louisa’s costume; an odd mixture of Egyptian and Roman fashion elements haphazardly thrown together. “You look pretty, Louisa. Are you Cleopatra?” Grace guessed.
Louisa ignor
ed the question. “Have you seen daddy? Tonight’s his big night.” She drew Grace closer to her. “We definitely don’t want to miss the show tonight. It’s going to be some show,” she said, with a trace of bitterness. “Were you here earlier when daddy made his big speech?” she asked, using air quotes around big speech.
Grace recogniz
ed the trap. Louisa loved nothing more than drawing others into badmouthing her father and then reporting back to him. “Yes, I thought he did a wonderful job.” Hiding a smile at Louisa’s obvious disappointment, Grace motioned the bartender over.
“
I thought he went overboard. Especially with . . .” Louisa suddenly stopped speaking, causing Grace to turn back toward her.
Louisa was focus
ed on something behind Grace’s head. Before Grace could follow her gaze, Louisa grabbed her arm again. “Look, I was here all night, okay? You and I were together. We’ve been here for the last hour. Right?” she asked, digging her fingernails into Grace’s skin.
Grace turn
ed to see a man in a black cape, mask, and top hat at the far end of the room quickly striding toward them. Despite the mask, she could practically see the anger emitting from him in waves. Grace couldn’t remember a time when she had seen Daniel Burns so angry. Acknowledging Grace’s presence with a nod and a tight smile, he turned to his wife, wedging himself between the two women.
Seeing her chance for escape
, Grace slid around Daniel and walked back into the lobby leaving husband and wife to sort through their marital differences themselves. The last thing she wanted was to get in between Straker’s daughter and her husband. She turned back just in time to see Louisa pour what was left of her drink on her husband’s shirt.
Well
, Straker promised everyone a night of excitement.
She found
Valerie sitting on a bench near the entrance. “Don’t worry. No one knows. Look, I have to go,” she said when she saw Grace approach. Grace laughed as Valerie closed the phone and pantomimed throwing it across the room. She glanced at Grace’s empty hands. “Where’s my drink?”
