A Hint of Magic (13 page)

“He was
furious
,” Clarissa observed.

“Yeah, well guys like him don’t like to be defeated in front of an audience,” Parker shrugged.  “Tough.”  He grinned and added, “You should have seen the look on his face when I beat him.  And, for that matter, you should have heard the way everyone nearby was snickering.”

She burst out laughing at that.  “That sounds awesome.  You’re awesome.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

“So um…where to now?” she asked.  “Should we stake out Sam’s apartment?”

“I’d love to, but I actually have to get back to the city,” Parker said apologetically.  “Work awaits…I’m sure you know how that is.”

“Yeah, unfortunately I do.”

“Listen, you’re not going to tail Sam yourself, are you?” Parker asked anxiously.  “I know better than to try to tell you what to do – it’s not like you’ll listen to me anyway.  But it’s looking more and more like he’s our guy.”

“I know,” she agreed dejectedly.  “I don’t want Sam to be our guy but right now he’s our best lead.  That’s exactly why it’s important we dig up as much information about him as we possibly can,” she pointed out.

“Yeah you’re right about that.  But I don’t like the thought of you confronting a killer on your own.  It could be dangerous.  You should at least have backup.  Wait for me and we can tail him together tomorrow night, okay?”

“Fine,” Clarissa replied. 

But the only reason she agreed was because she had other plans.

The fence outside the holiday store was very tall.

To complicate matters further, it had spikes at the top. 

Parker really hadn’t been kidding when he had said the place looked more like a maximum security prison than a shop that sold holiday merchandise.  It was definitely overkill…apparently the store owner had
really
wanted to deter thieves!

But Clarissa was hopeful she could get in.

She arrived at the shop around midnight.  At that time of night, virtually nothing in town was open.  Maybe one could find a pharmacy or convenience store lit up, but that was about it.  Main Street was pretty much deserted.

There was something about sneaking around that made the hairs on the back of Clarissa’s neck stand on end.  Holding her breath, she gingerly climbed out of her beat up old car.  She reached into the back to retrieve the broom she had brought along.

That was when a furry little beast shot out of the backseat.

Clarissa couldn’t help it:  she let out a piercing shriek.

Cat the cat looked up at her in confusion, as though it couldn’t figure out why she was panicked and screaming.  Then it circled around her legs before butting against her ankle with its head.  It really did choose the worst possible times to be affectionate!

“What are you doing here?!” Clarissa gasped, her heart rate slowly returning to normal.  “You must have snuck into the backseat when I was putting the broom in the car.  You nearly scared me to death, you know.”

“Meow,” the cat replied unapologetically.

“Get back in the car,” Clarissa ordered, holding the door open.

The cat paid her no attention whatsoever.  Instead, it wandered off to investigate the spilled contents of a metal trash can that had fallen over.

“Ugh!” Clarissa grunted in frustration. 

Negotiating with a stubborn feline had
not
been part of her plan!  But she wasn’t about to let Cat interfere with her investigation.  She decided to let the little brat poke around in the trash for a bit while she tended to business.  With any luck, getting inside the shop wouldn’t take long.

The front of the building had bars over the windows.  The back, however, did not.  Why bother putting bars on the windows – or locking the back door – when there was a massive, spiky fence to keep people out?  It wasn’t as though anyone could climb over.

But Clarissa wasn’t planning to climb.

She was planning to fly.

With her broom in hand, Clarissa walked over to the fence. 

She mounted the broom, assuming the “witch” position that every early morning cartoon and kids’ storybook had taught her was correct.  Was it bad that most of what she knew about being a witch had come from pop culture and old wives’ tales?

It wasn’t her fault that she hadn’t discovered her powers until she was nearly thirty.  Had it not been for a bizarre lightning strike in the middle of the forest, she may have never discovered them at all.  The whole thing still felt very surreal to her.  She felt like the world’s clumsiest, worst witch ever. 

But she was learning.

And according to her aunt, she could fly.

All she had to do was get on her broom and concentrate.

With that in mind, Clarissa stood there on the dark street.  With her broom between her knees, she clenched her fists and squeezed her eyes shut.  She probably looked crazy
and
constipated as she stood there attempting to make the broom fly.  It was a good thing no one was around.

After several minutes of straining, Clarissa let out a grunt of frustration.  She released the broom and it fell to the sidewalk with a clatter.  Clearly the broom was still a slave to gravity, and so was she.  What was the matter?  Why weren’t her attempts to fly working?

“I thought it would be easier than this,” Clarissa grumbled to herself. 

Annoyed that her brilliant plan apparently wasn’t so brilliant after all, she gave it one final try.  After a lot more straining and grunting – as well as some cursing – she finally gave up.  Her aunt had assured her she would be able to fly using the energy of the moon, so why couldn’t she?

“Ugh!” Clarissa muttered.  She was equal parts annoyed and embarrassed. 

On a whim, she whipped out her phone and fired off a text to her aunt right there in the middle of the street.  It was late, so she didn’t expect Matilda to get the message until the morning.  Really, more than anything she just needed to vent.

Suddenly she heard the sound of footsteps pounding against pavement.

Her head jerked up in alarm – she hadn’t expected anyone else to be on the dark, deserted street at that hour.  She saw a shadowy male figure running toward her.  Instinctually, she jumped behind the corner of the building.  Then, cautiously, she peeked out to get a better look.

When the man got closer, a streetlight illuminated his face enough for Clarissa to recognize him.  It was none other than Sam Swanson, Sugarcomb Lake’s newest addition to the police force.  He also happened to be Clarissa’s number one suspect in the murder of Greg Klassen.

Clarissa couldn’t believe her luck. 

She had told Parker she wouldn’t follow Sam on her own.  And she had meant it!  But there he was right in front of her, running down a quiet street in the middle of the night.  He was clad all in black, and the hood of his sweatshirt was pulled up over his head.  Was that not suspicious? 

Okay, maybe it wasn’t.  Maybe he just liked black clothes.

But even so, Clarissa couldn’t pass up the opportunity to find out what Sam was up to.

She stuck her phone into her pocket.  Then, once Sam had passed by, she followed him.

She wished he wasn’t running so fast.  Clarissa was
not
a runner, so it was hard to keep up.  Thankfully just as she was getting a stitch in her side, Sam paused to stretch.  He must have had a leg cramp or something.  Clarissa took the opportunity to double over and catch her breath.

Unfortunately when she looked up again, he was gone.

How could Sam move that fast?  Was he superhuman? 

Annoyed, Clarissa forced her tired body to keep moving.  She raced toward the end of the street as fast as her overworked legs would carry her, hoping she could catch up with him.  But that didn’t happen.

She stood there looking around in confusion as the moon shone down on her. 

It was eerily quiet.

Then, suddenly, there was a noise.

Clarissa reacted as any reasonable person might:  she screamed.

Then she pulled out her phone, wondering why she had ever made that obnoxious pop song her ringtone in the first place.  What had she been thinking?  Yuck. 

“Hello?” she said, reluctantly giving up on her quest to find Sam.

“You need to harness the power of the moon to fly,” Matilda said, getting right to the point.

“I didn’t mean for you to call me in the middle of the night!” Clarissa gasped apologetically.  “I kind of just needed to rant.  I figured you would get the message when you got up in the morning.  Did I wake you?  I’m so sorry!”

“There’s nothing to apologize for.  I was already awake.  I was talking to Victor.”

“Victor?  Is he your boyfriend?”  Clarissa hadn’t known her aunt was seeing anyone.

“No, he’s a spirit,” Matilda replied nonchalantly.  “He lives in a vase I bought at a flea market.”

“Um, okay…”  How was one supposed to reply to a statement like that?

“Anyway, I just called to say you need to harness the power of the moon to fly.  The stronger the moon’s pull is, the easier it will be for you to get the broomstick up in the air.  Next time, try moonbathing.”

“Moonbathing?” Clarissa repeated.  Was that even a word?

“It’s like sunbathing but…well, it’s pretty self-explanatory.”

“I see.  So you’re telling me I need to hang out in the moonlight and…soak it all up?”

“Yes, but not tonight,” Matilda advised.

“Why not tonight?” Clarissa asked, becoming more confused by the minute.

“There are too many shooting stars tonight.”

“What does that have to do with – oh, on second thought, never mind.” 

Sometimes there was no point in asking Matilda to explain things.  The eccentric woman tended to talk in circles, plus half the stuff she said sounded completely insane.  Clarissa figured maybe it was best not to ask too many questions of her peculiar aunt.

“Have a good night,” Matilda said before hanging up.  “Oh, and Victor says hi.”

A chill went up Clarissa’s spine at that.  Was her aunt actually talking to ghosts?  And now one of them was saying hello to her via Matilda?  That was beyond creepy!

Clarissa looked around nervously.  She couldn’t help but wonder if ghosts actually existed – and if they did, were there any on Main Street?  She couldn’t shake the feeling she was being watched, but that was likely because she’d managed to freak herself out.

“This is dumb,” she whispered to herself.  “I’m going home.” 

With that, she hurried back toward the safety of her car.  She hoped Cat would be nearby – and cooperative – because she
really
didn’t feel like chasing that stubborn little beast through the dark, deserted streets. 

She rushed past the bakery, the bookstore and the coffee shop.  But when she got to the library, an arm suddenly shot out of the shadows and grabbed her.  Clarissa screamed bloody murder – until she realized there was probably no one else around to hear her.

“Are you following me?” Sam demanded, looking irritated.

“Let go of me!” she shrieked, struggling against him.

“Sorry,” he said, immediately releasing her.  “Are you following me?” he asked again.

“No,” she retorted, crossing her arms and trying to look tough.

“You are,” he said with certainty.

“So what if I am?” 

Clarissa took a step backward and glanced down the street.  Her car was within sight.  She liked to think she could make a run for it, but deep down she knew better.  She had seen how quickly Sam moved.  There was no way she could outrun him. 

“What’s this all about?” he demanded. 

She said nothing.  She was silently wondering if she could grab the lid off the trashcan behind him and thwack him over the head with it.  Unfortunately, that probably worked better in the movies than in real life.

“You’re still hung up on your crazy notion that I killed Greg, aren’t you?”

Clarissa said nothing.  She didn’t want to agitate him further.

“Look, Amy told me she was over visiting you.  I know you were asking questions about me.”

Clarissa swallowed hard.  Truthfully, she was almost certain Sam had murdered Greg.  And the last place she wanted to be was in a shadowy, empty street being confronted by an angry killer.  She hadn’t gone out looking for danger, but it seemed danger may have found her.

Sam sighed and ran his hand through his hair.  “Look, I’m sorry,” he apologized.  “I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that.  I didn’t mean to scare you.  I’ve been under a lot of pressure lately what with the move and the new job.”

“Okay.”  Clarissa’s heart was pounding.

“I know my being stressed is no excuse.  You and I have really gotten off on the wrong foot, haven’t we?  I know you’re a friend of Amy’s.  And I want to make things right.  Listen, can we just clear the air about your
completely
misguided theory once and for all?”

“How do you suggest we do that?”

“Ask me anything,” Sam offered.  “No question is off limits.  Go for it.  Do your worst.”

“How did your lasso wind up tied around Greg’s wrists?” Clarissa asked.

He chuckled at that.  “You would have to ask me that, wouldn’t you?  The thing is, I have no idea.  It was a dumb prop that came with my Halloween costume.  I set the lasso down at some point and completely forgot about it.  Somebody must have picked it up.”

Clarissa tipped her head to the side and looked at Sam intently.

“I know, I know.  I’m a cop, so believe me when I say I know how that sounds,” Sam sighed.  “Come to think of it, I suppose I’d be suspicious of me too if I were you.  But I didn’t have anything to do with what happened that night.  If I was lying, I’d have a much better alibi!”

“Why did you leave the party?”  Clarissa already knew what Amy had told her, but she wanted to hear it from Sam.  She wanted to see if there were any inconsistencies.

“It sounds dumb, but I was concerned about first impressions.  When that fight broke out it seemed like an ordinary drunken scuffle – no big deal.  But if the cops ended up being called for a noise complaint, I didn’t want to be there.  It wouldn’t have looked good.”

“Where did you go after the party?”

“I went home.”

Clarissa sighed.  That wasn’t the rock solid alibi she had hoped for. 

But it did seem like a normal thing to do, assuming Sam was being truthful.