The Final Catch: Book 2: See Jane Hex (The Tarot Sorceress Series) (8 page)

If I put the collar on my wrist it kept me in her dimension and I couldn’t function that dimension, at least not easily. I decided to add the small collar to the chain around my neck that carried the tiny pinchers I used to hang on to my bank cards. I might need that collar to go fetch her if Maisie didn’t let her show up soon.

Once I had the collar tucked neatly beneath my t-shirt, I couldn’t wait to pour myself a tasty glass of cabernet. I had a delicious bottle of Sangria de Bruja, after a few glasses I found the courage to try out my new handcuffs.

I handcuffed one end to the spindles on my staircase and the other to myself. I was a bit drunk, but I think that may have helped. “Release me. Release me. That would please me.” I said these words over and over, until the entire stair rail began to vibrate and shake. A single spindle fell away and the cuff slipped off the end, but my wrist was still cuffed. I tugged lamely at it. “Abracadabra?” No luck.

Then my doorbell rang.

I looked through the peek hole, but didn’t see anyone there.  Yet, I sensed someone. I scratched my head and conked myself with the handcuffs, maybe it was Glendie, but why would she come over at nine in the evening without letting me know? Maybe she had Sia!  I peeked through the hole again and this time I saw who was there.

The shadow.

The same dark presence I’d seen before, following me on the street, then in Maisie’s shop when I’d escaped from the Star card. The long, deeply black shadow stained  the sidewalk, up the two short stairs to the stoop, a slash of darkness fell over the peek hole, like a slender ebony ribbon dimming the porch light.  It was him, the stranger, the stalker, he’d had finally caught up.

My heart stalled, my head buzzed.  I was scared. I hated being scared it. didn’t happen often. No stupid shadow person was going to control me; I pulled the door open and jumped out onto the stoop. “Come and get me, Shadow man!” I shouted. Even though it was nine o’clock at night there was still enough light out to clearly see who, if anyone, was out there.               A voice called out to me.

“Ahem, it’s me!”

“Me who?” I asked trying to sound challenging.

“Ah, your date for the night. You said come to your place.”

Omg,
I’d forgotten all about that! I hadn’t done a thing to get ready. I was silent. I didn’t know what to do, then thought what the heck. Why not?  “Oh, yeah, I forgot about our date, but come on in and have a glass of wine. Where the hell are you?” I asked?

“Down here.”

I looked down over the rail on my stoop and there below me, like Romeo looking up to his Juliet, was my date, in my bushes. To top it off, I recognized him. “Why are you down there?” I asked.

“Ah, I’m shy. After I rang the bell, I got nervous and changed my mind, so I ducked in here. But you got out here so fast.”

“
You’re
shy?”

“That’s why I have to look for dates online,” he said, but he didn’t sound very convincing.

“Well, get up here William.” Yes, it was William from Koldwell Bank’s board room! I soon learned that his full name was William Tell. I didn’t believe him at first and asked him to show me some ID and he did. He was the tall, skinny dude with the cool glasses, such a leader and tough speaker in the board room, was shy and retiring out in the real world, on a date, or so it seemed.

He was tall! Once I got him inside I saw just how tall he was.  My guess was he stood about six feet, six. But I had nine foot ceilings, so it didn’t matter much. I offered him a glass of red wine which he took.  He sat in a nearby chair and while he sipped I took a good look at this guy. He wore the long spaghetti western coat, a toque, fingerless gloves and a pair of sunglasses.  He wasn’t dressed like this that day he sat in the boardroom.

“Well, William, what gives?” I asked, while he sipped. “You’ve been following me. And my friend Glendie seems to think you’re from the Cheshire society, whatever that is. I saw you at the Koldwell with Malcolm Press.  So, give it up. You’re busted. I presume you answered my dating ad to get in to my place perhaps to brainwash me into the joining the society. So, here you are.”

“That’s a lot of questions,” he said.

“I’ve got more.”

“By all means.”

“Did you drop Theodosia off on my doorstep?  Where is she now? Is she safe?”

He put down his glass of wine. “I’m disappointed,” he said.

“Really?”

“I had hoped a date with you was going to me more fun and less of an interrogation.” He linked his fingers loosely together, rested his elbows on his knees, leaned forward and stared at me. His posture, lankiness and attire gave him a kind of Ichabod Crane look, only more handsome.

I stared right back. What did I care if
he
was disappointed?

Then he said, “Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, to all your questions. In fact, yes, yes, yes and no. ”

“Really.”

“Really.”

“No. I didn’t answer you’re dating ad so I could get into your place.” He looked very honest when he said that.

“You got a lot of s’plainin to do Willy.”

“Please don’t call me Willy.”

“Hmm, that will depend on your s’plainin’”

“What do you mean – s’plainin?”

Omg, “
Tell me what’s going on in this town and why me.”

“I thought it was obvious,” he said.

I shook my head no and gave my best inquiring look.

“I follow the cat. Kitten in this case,” he said.

“The cat?  Sia?”

“Theodosia. I can’t believe she answers to Sia, but she’s young. That’s right. Sia.”

“But you work for Koldwell!”

“That’s my ruse. I do work for them, but that’s not my raison d’etre.”

“But you’re not a major –
are
you?” 

He laughed at that then and flicked a hand at me, waving that one off. 

“Put your tarot deck away, Jane. You won’t be capturing me. I’m not part of that nonsense.”

“Well then, what nonsenses are you part of?”  I poured myself a second glass of wine. He paused and watched me drink, and while I drank I looked at him through the concave side of the crystal wine goblet. He appeared to morph and become cat like in nature, which really freaked me out. I pulled the goblet away and looked at Willy; once again, he looked like his regular self.

“Jane, all of those majors that you released from the cursed tarot deck owe some form of debt to Maisie. They’ve wronged her in some way.  She’s a powerful sorceress and they’re locked in her deck to repay her, and only Maisie decides when their debts are paid out.  I’m not part of that nonsense because I’m not part of Maisie’s sorcery. When she created the deck and made herself a powerful sorceress, she let Anesthesia get away from her. Not all at once but little by little she lost her focus on her responsibility to her Cheshire, allowing Thesia to be captured. Anyway it’s all a long story.”

“But Thesia sounds like Theodosia?”

“They were sisters,” he informed me.

“No!”

“Yes! And The fact
is
I’m Sia’s factotum.”

“Whaaa? Fatsotum?” I put my hand on my belly. I pretended I didn’t know what that word meant, but I knew all too well what he meant. It was Ichabod’s turn to give me a look.

“Is Maisie still part of the society?”

“Of course she didn’t actually kill her cat. She left it in harm’s way”

“How?”

He shook his head no. “Another date and another time and I’ll tell you more.”

“But what’s your roll with Sia? I’ve got to know.”

“I’m her servant,” he said matter-of-factly. “Well, I was but now you are.”

*

It took William most of the evening, three bottles of wine and half my Benraich, twelve years old, to explain it all to me. At one point I noticed that he was wearing a cat collar much like Sia’s (only it was a deep purple color, not pink). It was hidden under the shirt and tie he removed that evening.  Okay, so we got into a little cuddling and scratching behind the ears; what can I say? I knew he couldn’t remove that collar if he wanted to remain with me in the flesh, in this dimension. For a long, skinny guy; he was pretty cuddly, if you know what I mean.  He was all muscle and sinew, like most cats, although technically he assured me that he wasn’t a cat, yet. He told me something that really surprised me. Something I hadn’t suspected at all.  Well, he told me several heart stopping things, while we tumbled and chased each other around the condo. His telling always began with a question.  He wanted to know if I’d ever wondered why I enjoyed my sexuality so much, why finding men online was such a turn on.  I said I’d never really thought about it. He said it was because of my cat like nature. I laughed and hissed and scratched his back. Then he told me something that made my claws sink into the foam of my mattress.

He asked me if I knew that Maisie was a member of the Cheshire Society, as well.

“No way?”

“Don’t be so surprised. Meadowvale isn’t the cozy little hamlet you seem to think it is, and its folks aren’t the cozy little plebs you’ve sought refuge in. That fact that you found it, intuitively, says something about you, and folks here want to know what and who you are.”

Gob smacked is the only word that came to my mind. Words failed me for a second. “Talk to me like I’m a two year old,” I said.

He gave me an odd look, like an owl that spies a potential meal.

“That how she got put in charge of the deck,” he said, while nibbling on my ear. I couldn’t understand him while he gave me an ear lick, so I stopped him.

“Say, again?” I said.  “She’s in charge of the tarot deck because she let her cat die?”

“Well, she didn’t let it die.” He kissed me on the forehead.

“What happened?” I lay back on the pillow, hands tucked behind my head. I wanted to hear this.

He played with my belly jewel. He looked at me. His eyes twinkled and looked guarded. Then he said, “They inked her.”

“Inked her? The cat?”

“That’s correct.”

“Look, William.”

“Thank you.”

“William, ever since I’ve moved to this town I’ve had the feeling that – how can I put it – I’ve been sought after.  Followed, tricked, manipulated—capiche?”  He nodded, yes. “It’s clear to me now that Devon follows me, probably to report my goings-on to Maisie, but I think the crazy demon has fallen for me – well—as best as a demon can, so now he
really
follows me! He’s cramping my dating style. He and Maisie have me bound to a cursed tarot deck which apparently I can’t get free of unless I return all the majors back to their dutiful place within the cards – I have no idea how long that’s going to take.             

“I’m getting the sense it may take my entire life time – “

“Or longer,” he said.

“
Or longer
!”  He nodded.  I was on a roll here, so I wasn’t about to let up. “What’s going on? Can you connect the dots for me?” I gave him my best lamentable look and batted my lashes a few times, although I don’t think I’d dressed them up much, so he may not have noticed.

“You’re not the only one who wants her freedom; Maisie wants to be free too. I’ve given Maisie a gift to give to you.”

“That’s very nice but I need the gift of understanding. Tell me what’s going on.”

“You have lovely eyes, so green,” he said.

“Thank you.” I really was a push over for a compliment and a gift.

“Your Sia is safe for the moment. I noticed her collar on your fireplace mantel. You shouldn’t let it lie about.”

“I’ll go get it. I only put it there when we came in here” I said and tried to get up off the bed, but he pulled me back.

“Not so fast. I’m not finished connecting the dots,” he said and drew his finger up from my belly button to my left and then my right nipple. I grabbed his wrist with my none cuffed arm and pulled his finger to my mouth and bit down on his nail, not too hard, but enough to get his attention. He loved it!

“Alright! I’ll confess,” he said, and bent to whisper in my ear.

Christian Whitman is forty-five, tall, and white haired. He’s my school principal and the man who hired me for the Little Blossom Academy, a private all girl school for young ladies ages nine to sixteen. While he’s my boss, he’s also my nemesis. He’s a walking bean pole of double standards. He’s rotten, for sure, but I’m not sure how deep that decay of entitled male superiority has dug itself into that concave chest of his, where his red tie with a gold school crest clip settles while at the school.

During the day he’s a hands-off kind of guy, letting his bullish headmistress do his dirty work, but in the evenings, Whitman, a.k.a as Mr. Hyde, is all hands. But then, who am I to complain of the man’s shadow side. I have my own to contend with.

This afternoon I was enjoying a quiet moment at the desk of the teacher I was filling in for, eating my bagged lunch. The classroom was empty of girls. Thank goodness. I still hadn’t figured out how to get the one handcuff off my wrist and had to hide the other half up my sleeve all day and pretend I was wearing a cool bracelet! I’d been contemplating my success at having captured Justine and Malcolm and after my delicious date with William, I relaxed a little about Sia and decided that the whole capture and release tarot deck business was going to be an adventurous piece of cake. In fact I’d probably be sorry and bored once it was all over.

I watched the girls in the schoolyard eating lunch and playing games, or standing around talking.  I saw two of the ‘bad’ girls, Casey and Sandra; go behind the trees where I knew they smoked cigarettes. I had my feet up on the desk and the chair pushed back enjoying the quiet moment. That’s when I heard him, Whitman out in the hall. I knew it was him because I heard him pull out his medieval ring of keys and rattle them around looking for the one that would open my classroom door.

I stayed where I was and let him search. I wasn’t about to jump up and help that guy get into my room any faster than he did. With any luck he wouldn’t find the key and he’d go away. I’ve seen that ridiculous dungeon master ring of clefs he insists on wearing under his jacket. It’s even got skeleton shaped keys on it, but I think they’re for show. I doubt they actually work anywhere in the school, but they might work in the old graveyard buildings across the street. The other teachers and I joke about him doing double duty as the undertaker.

Damn
, he found a key for this room.  He’s clunking it around trying to make it work. Unfortunately for me the door clicked open.

I didn’t bother to swing my chair around. I tried to act like he’d caught me by surprise during my lunch break. I heard the floor boards squeak as he stepped in. “Miss Starr,” he said. I turned my chair away from the window to face him.

“Mr. Whitman!”

“You were expecting someone else?”

“I expected no one. It’s lunch time.”

“Miss Starr – “

“Mz Starr.”

“Yes. I need you to take my lunch supervision. I need to leave the school to attend an urgent matter.”

I put down my sandwich. 
Take his lunch supervision?
“Right now?”

“Now.”

I had loosened my mandatory red tie with the school crest on it which had allowed my blouse to relax and loosen up revealing a little of my double D cleavage. I saw Whitman’s eyes drop to the loose tie.

“Your top buttons are undone. Your cleavage is showing.”

“My buttons? No, it’s my tie. I loosened it for lunch.  I didn’t think I’d be having any visitors.” I pushed my chair out. I put down my sandwich and began to adjust my tie.

“I’m not a visitor,” he said, sternly.

I turned back to the window to finish tightening my tie and mouthed a few nasty things about Whitman. I envied the uniformed school girls in the yard. They looked bored but happy to be free, even if only for an hour, free from the rules and regulation of Little Blossoms Academy.  The sun shone and if it weren’t for Christian Whitman and his ilk the world might actually be a friendlier place, or so I thought. Whitman left and I made my way out to the schoolyard to make sure the girls didn’t get into any trouble.

Outside most of the girls were busy chatting and eating. A few played a game of kickball with the younger ones and others had gone across the street to eat in the graveyard, generally forbidden, but I wasn’t going to call them back.  I saw the smoke from the smokers escape from behind a big old maple tree, but I was more interested in seeing where Christian Whitman was headed.  What was the big emergency that called him away from his higher duties at the academy? From a secluded spot, I watched Whitman go to his car and drive away in a black Mercedes, SUV.

I decided the girls were doing fine without me. Besides, the headmistress Mrs. Gottschalk was circling the yard and her heavy potato body wrapped as best it could in the burgundy and blue school uniform, headed like a wind filled flag for the graveyard. The girls spotted her and scattered like a school of fish, in all directions. I took the opportunity to do a quick walk to the staff parking lot, hopped into my car and followed Whitman.

I caught up with Whitman in no time.  I had to be careful I didn’t follow him too closely because Meadowvale wasn’t a big city and he might recognize me.

I followed really closely anyway, right up to a stop light which turned green for him then  red for me, stopping me from keeping up --
note to self
– phone city about that light, crazy! By the time the light changed and I got through the intersection I’d lost him.

I got stuck at the next red light too; it seemed all the traffic lights were against me and stayed red for an extra long time.  As I sat there waiting and waiting for a light change, I tried to figure out what Whitman might be up to.  Lately he’d taken off at lunchtime disappearing until the end of the school day, which really wasn’t like him. Generally, he liked to wander the halls at the school looking for students to write up and teachers to reprimand.

Then, as I was about to give up because after the fourth red light, I thought I’d never catch up, I saw his car cut across an intersection two blocks ahead of me
.

Ha, I know where you're headed
.

My suspicions about him were soon confirmed when I saw Whitman pull into the local pub, the Wild Swan, famous for its lunch time stripping pole dancers!  I drove myself to the Wild Swan and into the back lot where I knew a large stand of trees grew and parked there to conceal my presence.

Between the V of two trees I was able to watch Whitman climb from his car and head for the front door.

I stayed in my car and observed him struggle with a locked door. My first thought was, oh, oh, I hope he doesn’t see me when he turns around to leave, and I thought I better high tail it outta there and get back to the school before he did. 

But he didn’t leave.

He pulled on the handle a few more times and then waited for someone to come open the door, when that didn’t happen, Whitman pulled out his ring of keys and like that, opened the door and went inside.

The suspense was killing me, so I pulled my car up into the closer parking lot and found an out –of- the- way- spot behind a big dumpster to leave my little car. I got out and crept up to the Tudor style establishment and crouched near a window.

I peeked in.

Through the window I saw a few patrons sitting at tables eating lunch and drinking, mostly men, but a few of them had dates. It was nearly pole dancing time so the stage stools were packed with guys.  I scanned the crowd for Whitman thinking he might have a front row seat, but he wasn’t there, as I got braver and stepped in front of the window and looked around it appeared to be a private party inside the pub. Then I noticed the small hand written note on the door.

PRIVATE PARTY UNTIL 3 PM.

Whitman was arguing with a young woman I didn’t recognize. The slender, voluptuous young woman looked quite upset. He gripped her by one arm and tried to pull her to the exit. “In your dreams Whitman!”

Ha, if he thought he had any chance with her, he was delusional.

*

I’d already gone shopping by the time I came to Maisie’s shop this morning, as usual it looked like no one was manning the ship, but I’ve learned not to trust that observation. I hoisted my shopping bags onto the sales counter.

In this magic shop of curios I can never know if I’m being watched from a security camera or another dimension! On the sales counter sat an elaborately wrapped gift box and I couldn’t resist it. I made a bee-line to the box and began to open it. Then I heard a voice yelling out at me from the backroom. Of course - I knew being alone in the place for any length of time was too good to be true.

It was Maisie.

“How do you know that's for you?”

She stepped out of the tarot room and into the front of the shop. I gave her my old
ah, come on,
who else
look. “Who else?”  I added.

No sooner had I asked that then Emilia stepped out behind the petit Maisie.  Ms. Emi was dressed in her black dobok and her aura of several sheathed swords also stuck out all around and beyond her fro, as usual.

“Hey, not-so-plain Jane. Beware of gifts from strangers,” she said,. I waved at her, one hand still on the gift. Once again I’d been summoned here by Maisie who was none too pleased at having lost a bundled brick of her cash to Devon’s pyrotechnic tendencies. Somehow I was to blame for that, so to make it up and get on with this game, Maisie had another assignment for me.

“I have a job for you,” Maisie said, getting straight to the point.

I really was beginning to get anxious when she said those words these days. I decided to make the best of it and hoped there’d be some cash reward money for me, which Maisie always promised but hadn’t yet delivered on.

“Will I catch me a tarot character?” I asked, gazing down at the gift.

“If you play your cards right.”

“Ha, ha,” Emi said sarcastically and we rolled eyes together and gave Maisie our twin sour faces.

“Groooan,” I added for emphasis. Then I decided to ignore them for a minute and lifted the lid off the box, but it was filled with folded and slightly scented tissue paper. The paper was soft and smelled like amber or vanilla, I wasn’t sure which and I thought there might a candle inside the box.

I carefully pulled up layer after layer of fine white paper and began to think I’d been tricked and that maybe there was nothing here. I picked up the box and shook it gently to check for weight and sound. There seemed to be something in there.

“There's a lot of tissue paper here but not a whole lot of – gift.”

Then I found it.

It was practically made of tissue paper itself.  I held up a G-string with a bit of a beaded skirt. There were actually two pieces in there.  I noticed the top to the outfit twinkling up at me from between the folds in the last pieces of paper at the bottom of the box. I grabbed it and held it up for the two women to see. The top and bottom fit in the palm of my hand.  “Nice Barbie doll outfit,” I said.  “Where’s the doll?”

When they didn’t say anything I said, “I think these are for you, Emi.” And handed them to her.

Emilia feigned surprise and slapped her hand to her chest. “Moi?" She said, shaking her head no and gave me a piercing look. She started to laugh.

What was funny?

“No way. I don't wear headbands.” Emilia said. I laughed and pointed at the one she was wearing.

I held the skimpy outfit out to Maisie. But as usual she’d left her funny bone in her cauldron of soup. Emi took the opportunity to use her sword and slide both pieces of the outfit onto the tip of her weapon.

“If this is a bribe, you've got me all wrong,” I said, “I like to date, not do - whatever you do in these.”

“Dance,” Emi said, jiggling the outfit.

“Dance?” I echoed back at her.

“On a pole,” she added.

I looked to Maisie. Surely she wasn’t serious. Hell-smells if she didn’t nod an affirmation to Emilia’s explanation. That was my cue to laugh and I did have a good one. Emi slipped the costume of the tip of her sword back into the palm of my hand.

Emilia’s hilarious side got the better of her. She stepped out and began to strut her stuff which wasn’t very sexy in a martial arts uniform. My laughter at her antics got the best of me. I had to cross my legs to prevent myself from peeing, she was soo funny.  She walked like an Egyptian and then sidled into a version of the Macarena and ended with some crazy gangnem moves!

I lost it and laughed till I cried.

“You're not the only one around here with a few hot moves,” Emi said.

“I'd be hot, too, if I was wearing all that.”  I tugged on a corner of her uniform and then walked away. When I looked back at her, Emi had stopped dancing and stretched her sword tip toward me. I saw that she was after a piece of the costume I held. I dangled it out to make it easier for her to touch. She lifted it away and began jiggled it down her sword so that it slowly slid down toward her.

I took a quick glance at Maisie to see how she was handling this. She looked mildly amused but her arms folded across her chest. I knew enough to know that this was the first sign of concern. Emilia always seemed oblivious of Maisie’s moods.