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Authors: N. E. Conneely

Witch for Hire (15 page)

BOOK: Witch for Hire
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"It's good of you to give your father a chance. Take all the time you need. As much as your parents want to rush things, they know this is difficult."

"Landa, could we just chat? I don't want to think about it right now. I have a slow morning and I want to enjoy it."

She reached across the table, squeezing my hand. "Darling, we can talk as long as you'd like."
 

For the next hour we talked, not about anything important, just chatting. The brownies, Nelda and Sandar, enjoyed the last meal of their stay. They were leaving at eleven. Trent and Blenda, the dwarves, took food with them on an all-day sightseeing trip. By the time I returned to my room, I was happier than I'd been in days.
 

I'd promised Jones more truth charms, so I set out the supplies at the work table. I loved charm work, the slow weave of spells, assembling the charm, and all the little pieces working together. By lunch time I had finished twenty of them and would be well stocked even after I sent Jones' order out.
 

Continuing to indulge myself, I whipped up a sandwich for lunch and ate while reading a mystery novel. My energy level was still low. I needed to give magic a rest.

I cringed when I heard my phone ring. My relaxing day was about to end. "Oaks Consulting."

"Michelle, it's Jones again. I know, you're tired of hearing from me, but we've got a dead body. I think you can help."

"Alright, I'll head out. I just finished the charms for you. I'll bring them with me. What's the address?" He read it to me, and I gathered my things. I wasn't in a rush. Dead bodies didn't go anywhere quickly. It would still be there when I arrived.
 

It was a nice day, and pleasant drive to a small house in a residential area. The typical comfort of living in suburbia was offset by the swarm of police personnel outside the house. Pulling up, I called Jones. "Where do you want me?"

"In the garage." We both clicked our phones shut and I hurried over.
 

"How was the drive?" he asked.

"Nice, but what do you want me to look at?" I didn't drive all this way to make small talk.

"We've got a dead human that looks to have been munched on. Can you do anything to trace the killer? We can't keep panic down if people know trolls are out eating people every few days." Jones had big purple bags under his eyes, and a hollow, wane look. I'd never seen him look this ill.
 

"Frankly, it depends on how far along digestion has gotten." It was gross, but while in chunks I could still connect the pieces to the whole. Once it was mostly digested, it was starting to become something new. "How recently deceased and how large are the missing pieces?"

"There should be some large pieces and it's a fairly fresh kill. The neighbors heard something and called it in." He studied my pinched face. "Michelle, trust me on this one, you don't want to see any more of the body than necessary. Can you do the spell without looking at the entire body?" His usually cheerful expression was serious.
 

"Yes, and I'll gladly skip the eaten body show." We had a problem, though. "I can do a tracking spell, but I keep doing sophisticated spells, and you can't find anything. The best bet is a simple connection spell, giving you a glowing line from here to the rest of the body parts. If I'm careful, I can even craft it so a human can follow the path of the line."
 

Jones sighed, shoulders dropping, "Do it. We need the trolls more than we need their keepers."
 

"I need to touch the victim's hand. It doesn't matter where, but out here in the driveway would be better." It would give them the best line to follow.

"Done. Gather anything you need, they'll roll him out in a few minutes." He walked back in the garage, and I wandered over to the car to get my wand and another rock. They wouldn't want me to tamper with the body, so I'd have to do this from personal power. It was annoying, especially with my power so low, but easier to shape than other forms of conducting magic.
 

They rolled the body out, and the medical examiner lifted a hand through the zipper so I could work the spell. I rubbed the pebble against the man's skin, transferring cells. Using my wand, I sealed the cells against the rock, before etching runes. Because of the cells, the rock thought it was part of the body they came from, and wanted to find the missing pieces. The runes formed the magic to make the rock show a connection, a path people could easily travel. In moments, a strong yellow line flowed out of the body, into the pebble, out of the pebble, and down the street. I stepped back, and thanked the medical examiner.
 

Jones sent off a few cars to investigate the line. After he finished with them, he walked over. Looking a bit uncomfortable he said, "The Assistant Sheriff wants to talk to you back at the office."

"About what?" I didn't like the sound of this.

"He didn't say. Do you want to follow me over?"
 

"Sure." Twenty minutes later I pulled in to a parking space. I didn't have a good feeling about this meeting. I hadn't said more than a passing word to Carls since I'd been hired.

"Good afternoon, Miss Oaks."

"Good afternoon, Assistant Sheriff. You wanted to see me?"

"Yes. Miss Oaks, I have a problem," he started, leaning forward against his desk. "I think you may be a part of that problem. You see, I have these trolls on the loose, and in spite of a hedge-wizard and a witch working to find them, we've only found a dead one. You magic types-" clearly he wasn't fond of witches, "—aren't pulling your weight."

"What do you want me to do?" He hadn't done anything but complain.
 

"I want solutions out of you."

"I can't fix this. I am not an investigator or officer, just an expert."

"If you were worth the money this department is paying you, we'd have the trolls."
 

"Assistant Sheriff, just so we're clear, your department owes me money. Never mind the fact that I am not part of your department. I am not an investigator, and am only allowed in the field in very specific circumstances. Those are not often met."

He frowned. "Those trolls have been loose a week and you haven't given us anything that actually helps. If we haven't found those things using your spells within a week, you'll no longer be working with this department."

"Why exactly is that? What haven't I done that I should've?" I hadn't thought the conversation would go this poorly.
 

"You haven't found the trolls."

My eyes widened uncomfortably. "I haven't found the trolls? It isn't my job to find the trolls. I've done my job better than most single witches could, and having ten witches wouldn't have provided you with a spell to instantly locate those trolls."

"My statement stands. I want those trolls, and I want my money's worth from your wand waving."

"Assistant Sheriff, have you used any of the tools I've provided?"

"The department hasn't found them to be useful."

"Why not?"

"The magic you gave us isn't working as we requested."

"You didn't request anything." He hadn't even been in charge when I'd done the last spells.
 

"It has not performed to my satisfaction. If you will excuse me, I have work to do."

"Do what you have to, but you're more than welcome to get a second opinion. I think you'll find that you don't know how to use the resources you've been given and that they can't do anything more than I did with the materials I have. My job was to make useful spells. I've done that. Your job is to find trolls." He was starting to turn red. I left before he could yell at me, or fire me on the spot.

Jones intercepted me in the parking lot. "I take it Carls was angry."

"To say the least. I was informed that if the trolls were not captured in the next week, using the spells I crafted, Forsyth County would no longer need my services. I told him it was my job to make spells, not be a cop. It's his job to find the trolls." I rubbed my temples, attempting to reduce the throbbing in my temples.
 

"I'm not sure he can fire you."

"Do you really think that helps right now? I've done my best for you and have been told that I'm useless. I don't know what more I can do. If you've had any brilliant ideas, I'd love to hear them."
 

"Sorry, Michelle, that didn't come off right." He sighed, "The spell you gave us today should find something, and that will buy you credibility and time. As for the rest of us, we don't want to work with a firm again. They aren't nice to us. He's trying to save his butt, but we can make sure he's gone if you are."

"I have that many fans?"

"Yes. You don't know what the last few witches we worked with were like. No one wanted to work with them, least of all me. They also charge more than twice what you do. Besides, he's the one who won't let us use the magic properly, or investigate it to make it worthwhile. We're not even supposed to be looking at the map anymore, via his orders."
 

"Awesome. I don't know why I put two days of my life into that thing."

Jones patted me on the back. "Go home, get some sleep. It'll work out."

"Thanks . . . and, Jones, don't do anything that could hurt your career for me." He just smiled and waved me off. I wasn't sure that was a good sign.
 

Sitting in my car, leaning against the steering wheel, I let a few tears escape. I couldn't drive while I was this angry. Slowly, far more slowly than usual, I was able to release the anger and fear. Driving home, I didn't know what to think about. I wanted to be sad and angry, but that wouldn't help.
 

Most of all, I didn't want to go to dinner with my parents feeling like this. I was already nervous; being sad and angry wouldn't help anything. I wanted to go to dinner feeling happy and excited. I had a great opportunity to finally have the father I'd never had before. The last thing I wanted was for the bleak reality of my fledgling business failing to intrude upon what could be the start of great things.

Sighing, I pulled in a gas station. Ten minutes and a bathroom break later, I was on my way home; well, to my mom's house. As angry as I was over things today, and the family history, they were in the past. No amount of crying, moping, or ranting would change them now. It was time to move forward and enjoy the family I had.
 

Michelle

Pulling in Mom's driveway, I wished I'd thought to bring a change of clothes, since I was wearing a dirty polo and khakis. It would have been nice to look good for the first dinner with my father. With a quick check in the rearview mirror to make sure my hair still looked tidy, I headed to the door. I knocked, trying not to be nervous or scared as I waited for someone to answer.

My father peeked through the glass before pulling open the door. "It's nice to see you, Michelle. Come on in."
 

I set my purse on the small table next to the door. He closed the door, and something I saw on his face just grabbed my heart and held on. He was as worried about tonight as I was. He wanted to have a real family. As he turned around, I threw my arms around him, hugging him close. "Thanks, Dad, it's been a long day." After a fraction of a second his arms pulled me in, hugging me back.
 

Stepping back, I didn't know what to do, so I headed into the kitchen. "Mom, do you need any help?"

"No, I'm about to set everything on the table. Why don't you get a drink and sit down? You've been driving all over the place today, and must be tired." Mom placed a big salad on the table with some garlic bread and pasta in a red sauce. Dad brought over drinks for us, and we sat down. We asked for blessings over the food and dug in. Conversation was slow to start, but I'd had worse meals, considering the circumstances.
 

"Why were you needed in Forsyth today?" Mom asked.
 

I'd told her that I was going out of town because I might be late. "They found a body, which had served as a troll's morning snack. They wanted me to do a tracking spell between the body and the parts that had moved away from the rest of the remains."

My father at me, "What type of spell did you do?"

"I gave them a visible connection that should only travel paths a person could easily travel. I could have done something more sophisticated, but so far anything advanced has been too progressive for them to use properly."
 

Mom and Dad exchanged a look before Mom asked, "What happened?"

I'd known this would come up, but I hadn't realized they would function as a unit. They must have been spending a lot of time together since I moved out.

 
Grumpily, I told them. "The assistant sheriff's angry because they haven't found any trolls using the tracking spells I've done. I told him finding the trolls was his problem—there isn't anything wrong with the spells, just his ability to use them. He said if they hadn't found the trolls within a week, using my spells, they wouldn't be part of my cliental in the future. I told them to get a second opinion; no other witch could've done any better." I viciously stabbed a cucumber slice.
 

 
"What happened to Sheriff Davis?" My newly acquired father was on top of things.
 

"He was ambushed outside of Walmart and nearly beaten to death. He's in the ICU, leaving Assistant Sheriff Carls in charge."

"Is he going to live?" Dad asked.
 

"I was told he is going to recover, but not quickly. They are also having trouble finding the assailant."

"Sheriff Davis is a good man. I hope he recovers. As for Carls, I don't know much about him."

"Me either. I've never dealt with him before."
 

Dad shrugged. "He sounds unstable."

"I think he mostly wants to be able to point the finger at someone other than his people. He may be hoping to move up to sheriff from this mess." Carls didn't strike me as a sinister fellow, but self-serving? That I could see. "What I don't understand is why he hasn't had any of the werewolves or other shifters searching for the escapees in their animal form. I understand why they haven't tried dogs, they need a scent article to start with. Shifters don't need that because they can understand exactly what they're looking for and search for a general scent."

BOOK: Witch for Hire
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