A Hiss-tory of Magic: A Wonder Cats Mystery Book 1 (6 page)

I
didn’t know
any of this was going on as I headed toward the police station. Out of the corner of my eye, a black car slunk up beside the sidewalk with the passenger’s window down. Blake Samberg peered at me and waved from the driver’s seat. The car slowed to a stop as I approached and stuck my head in the window.

“So,” I asked him, “Am I breaking some speed limit for pedestrians? Are you going to write me a ticket?”

“No,” he answered. He really didn’t have a sense of humor. “You’re on the way to the station. Let me drive you.”

“You know how townsfolk talk. I wouldn’t want them to get the wrong idea, to see me picked up in a squad car.” I silently noted that the vehicle was unmarked. I hadn’t even known the Wonder Falls Police Department had cars like that.

“Nobody we take in for an interrogation rides up front.”

I raised an eyebrow, mulling over how shady the entire situation could be.

Blake continued, “Besides, the way you were hollering back at the office? It sounds to me as if you can take care of yourself.”

“You’re not swinging by for Jake, then?”

“Jake?”

I stared at him before carefully enunciating, “Detective Williams.”

At that, Blake gave the slightest of flinches and shook his head.

“What happened? Would your chief even let you just split up like that?”

Blake looked at me gravely. He looked serious all the time, from what I knew of him, but his darkness deepened. “I’ll tell you on the way.”

With my magic burnout, could I really take care of myself against Blake? But why assume the worst? I didn’t know enough about anything yet. I’d only suggested that Blake had done it because I hadn’t liked him when I’d first met him, which had been one day earlier.

I got into the car.

“Would you say that honesty with partners is important?” Blake asked as he turned down the sunny main street.

I looked at him sidelong. “Is this a date?”

“Williams thinks that I stick to the rules too much when I call him out.” Blake gritted his teeth at the injustice of it. “He’s too close to this case to be objective.”

“Because of Bea?” Even though I knew Blake was angry—and even taking into consideration both my having just met him and his being in the driver’s seat—I couldn’t let that stand. “Oh, please! Have you met Jake Williams? Have you seen Jake Williams meet anybody else? He’s close to everybody in this town. He’s such a nice guy that everyone tells him everything. They can’t help it.”

“That didn’t happen with me. When I told Jake everything that was on my mind, he went off alone and told me not to go near him. Let him explain that to the chief!”

“Stop the car right now!”

He didn’t brake with a jolt, but he reluctantly slowed down and warily looked at me. No, not at me—past me.

The reason I’d told him to stop was that he’d been so busy ranting that he hadn’t seen Cody about to cross the street. Now Blake eyed the poor kid the way Treacle eyes a mouse. Treacle, unlike many other cats, does not play with his food.

“This isn’t a crossing area,” Blake murmured.

I saw him moving to pounce and pulled him back by his jacket. “We’re investigating a murder!” I snapped. “It doesn’t count as jaywalking when everybody knows cutting across Main Street here is the fastest route to the grocery from the town square.”

I was sure that would be wrong in Blake’s book, but every driver in Wonder Falls knew it. Somehow, setting up the crossing lights and painting the pedestrian lane just kept getting passed over in the beautification society’s itinerary.

Then Blake did something unexpected. He smiled, just for a moment. “You said we’re investigating a murder. We.”

“Separately.” I was not disarmed by his smile. “I wouldn’t want to interfere with the official investigation, but I can’t sit back and do nothing.” I added, warning him, “I’m not nearly as objective as Jake.”

Blake nodded and drove on. “You know, I thought you’d stopped me there because you’d had enough of me after two seconds and wanted out, as if you’d rather walk the rest of the way. I’m glad that wasn’t the case.”

“I can see your elation.”

I didn’t mean to pick on him. The idea that Jake was nice to absolutely everybody in town except for Blake must have stung enough.

“As civil servants, Williams and I have got limitations that a citizen such as yourself wouldn’t have. I wouldn’t get in your way, either. But I’d like to be in the know.”

“Oh, would you?”

“Jake plays nice. You’re not afraid to speak your mind,” Blake said. “I know this case is personal to you, and that’s why you won’t stop until you’ve found the truth. That’s why I need you. I couldn’t admit to being a confidant, though.”

“Or an informant!”

“Do we have a deal, then?”

“None that either of us could admit to,” I said.

We’d arrived at the police station.

Blake got out of the car first, came around to my side, and opened the door for me. He muttered, “Williams thinks that I stick to the rules. He’s wrong.”

“Yeah. Real renegade, you are, letting that jaywalker go.” I hesitated, but if I wanted him to think we were working together—and that I was getting anywhere—then I had to give him something. “I stole evidence from the crime scene.”

Blake looked stunned then glanced around to make sure no one was listening.

I continued, “I’m sure that it belonged to the murderer, but I’m not sure if the murderer noticed that it was gone. If I show it to Min Park and he doesn’t recognize it, then that would prove that he’s innocent.”

“Or it would implicate him, say, if he does know that he lost this piece of evidence and would deny anything that would tie him to the crime.”

“That would still be something.” Part of me was convinced Min wouldn’t know what the necklace was, and he would be honest about that, too.

Blake nodded curtly. “Let me see what you took.”

I shook my head. “Let me see Min.”

I wanted to see Blake’s reaction, too, when the pyramid necklace came out. I would have to be quick.

T
he police station
was entirely open, with no cubicle walls or even offices, only an empty holding cell in one corner. I saw the interrogation room with the one-way mirror, where I hoped Min was.

Blake told me to wait on a bench by the cooler while the police chief, old Talbot, took him aside for a talk. Blake explained that he and Jake still kept each other up to speed on important information despite having parted ways for the investigation. The police chief was more concerned about why they’d parted ways in the first place.

A third man emerged from the hall and approached them, and the police chief greeted him with respectful formality as “Mr. Park.”

I barely recognized him, and not just because of the suit, the haircut, the pimple-free complexion, and the fancy shoes. The Min Park I’d known had a habit of hunching his shoulders protectively. He stammered everything he said as if he were breaking the worst of news to the listener.

Whoever this man was looked dismayed, even embarrassed—who wouldn’t be when taken in for an interrogation?—but he had a serenity about him that comes only from being comfortable in one’s own skin. His hair was gelled back neatly, and his eyes were warm.

I approached them cautiously, hardly believing my eyes.

Min recognized me instantly and shouted, “Cath! Cath!” Laughing, he pulled me in for a big hug.

Even though he’d never done that before, something about the way he did it reassured me that my old friend was still in there. The best way I can describe it was that Min was like a puppy. Min used to be a sad puppy, but he turned into a happy one.

I couldn’t help laughing, too. “I didn’t know that you were in town!”

“I wanted it to be a surprise.” He looked around. “Not this kind of surprise.”

“You are the silver lining in the nightmare storm cloud that the past two days have been,” I reassured him. I turned to Blake and Chief Talbot. “Are we all done here?”

Chief Talbot kept a suspicious eye on Blake as he answered, “We wouldn’t dream of keeping you, Miss Greenstone.”

And Blake, keeping a steely look on me, answered, “Keep in touch, Cath.”

Min looked at Blake, startled, and couldn’t disguise his renewed dismay. I used the opportunity to drop the pyramid necklace behind me as I took a step back.

“Cath,” Min began, pointing at Blake, “is this—?”

“He’s Jake’s partner. You know Jake Williams?”

“Bea’s husband.” Min nodded.

“Jake and Blake are both working on the case with the fire at the Brew-Ha-Ha,” I answered, hooking Min’s arm in mine. “I’ll show you around town for the rest of the day. It’s been a long time. You’ll be surprised at how little has changed.”

I stepped on the necklace chain and pretended to slip a little. “Oh!” I said, leaning down and picking it up. “This must be yours. It must have fallen when you tackled me.” I straightened up and dangled the pyramid pendant in front of us, looking sidelong at Blake.

He was good at not changing his expression, but I could see that the blood had drained from his face. Blake, the hardboiled criminal detective, recognized the pendant as I held it up—and it scared him.

Caught you,
I thought grimly.

Min said, “Huh, I thought I lost that. Thanks.”

I turned my head toward him. “Wait, what?” The necklace dropped from my fingers in my shock. Min already had his hand stretched out to catch it. He wrapped the chain over his index and middle fingers and stuffed the bundle into his breast pocket.

He extended his arm gracefully. “Shall we?”

I mustered up some courtesy and took his arm. “So we shall! Why do you have a four-sided-die necklace and keep it in your breast pocket?”

“Oh, I joined a club—kind of,” Min told me. “It was boring. I don’t miss anyone, and they didn’t deliver on anything that they promised. But they gave that away as part of their new membership packet, and I think it looks kind of cool, so I kept it. It never matches with anything I usually wear now, though.”

I still had a bit of magic burnout, but if Min had had a memory spell cast on him, or if what happened was magical in any way, I’d still feel it.

M
eanwhile
, Treacle and Peanut Butter had found their way to the crime scene. Treacle hadn’t been to the Brew-Ha-Ha since he was a kitten. Ted hadn’t allowed it after that first time, which Treacle remembered well.

Ted had claimed banning Treacle was for hygiene reasons. I’d argued that Marshmallow came into the café and even the kitchen all the time, but Ted had argued that Marshmallow would stay put, whereas street cats went all over the place and you couldn’t stop them.

I’d almost argued that Marshmallow’s hair got all over the place and nobody minded, or that maybe Ted had allowed Marshmallow because he thought Aunt Astrid had more clout than I did.

Really, Ted was afraid of black cats and particularly afraid of crossing their paths. I’d noticed he wasn’t interested at all in Aunt Astrid’s fortunetelling, either. Maybe a black cat with a star on his forehead was too ominously witchy.

Treacle had kept out of the way since telling me Ted’s fear, or else he waited out front. The town had more interesting places for a cat to explore, anyway.

Aunt Astrid had been right. Ted wasn’t interested because of a belief in magic. If he had been outright opposed to it, then he first would have stolen and destroyed Aunt Astrid’s completely nonmagical tarot cards and slightly magical crystal balls. If he’d found the secret trapdoor into Aunt Astrid’s nuclear war bunker, Ted would probably have ignored the book and used the space to store wines or something.

But that was all over, and the cats were at the Brew-Ha-Ha. Treacle hadn’t been there in a long while, as I mentioned, and Peanut Butter had never been.

The place was also crowded with investigators.

Jake had dropped in to check on what his colleagues had turned up so far. The kitchen still had the yellow crime-scene tape cordoning off the area, and it was more crowded than it should have been because all the bagging of possible evidence and photographing of the scene should have been done the day before.

“I’d hate to say it,” began Jason Boone, who was in charge of cataloguing, “but we’re in over our heads with this. We could use someone more practiced, you know, dealing with cases like this.”

Jake knew what he was talking about. “Blake Samberg’s made up his own mind about what happened, and I’m letting him investigate that. Let’s just do our best to get the evidence in.”

Boone sighed. “Those damn strays.” He waved a rubber-gloved hand toward Treacle and Peanut Butter, who were slinking in from what used to be the restaurant area.

Jake turned to look. “Those aren’t strays!” He was surprised to see Peanut Butter out. He jogged toward them, as if skittish cats would keep still in a strange place—even being approached by somebody they knew. “Get back here, Peanut Butter! And you!”

“Leave it to Williams!” Boone called out to one of the investigators, who still wore their protective overalls, paper shoes, face masks, and white rubber gloves. “Don’t contaminate the evidence!”

Peanut Butter hid in a corner. Treacle ran behind the bar, where the trapdoor was. Jake stopped at the door, realizing the cats would run if he kept going after them.

He crouched down in front of Treacle. “All right, come on… come on, kitty.”

Peanut Butter calmed down a bit and came up to Jake, rubbing his head against Jake’s knee and meowing.

“See? Peanut Butter’s fine here with me.” He picked up Peanut Butter in one hand, reached out to slowly and gently catch Treacle in the same way, lost his balance, and slipped. Treacle dodged the falling Jake as Peanut Butter leapt from Jake’s grasp.

Boone poked his head into the room. “Are the cats giving you any trouble there, Williams?”

“No,” Jake said gruffly.

Peanut Butter bounded over behind Treacle, who was licking his own paw. Jake pressed against the floor to push himself up, and the latch nudged ever so slightly, telling him he wasn’t pressing on solid floor.

“No,” Jake repeated quietly as he pushed himself up. “They’re not giving any trouble at all.” He found the handle, disguised as a missing floor tile, and pulled the trapdoor up.

Treacle, seeing the opportunity, bolted into the opening.

“Boone,” Jake ordered, “get the rest of the team in here.”

Jason looked at him blankly. “For a cat?”

“For an investigation! If Astrid Greenstone knew about this, then she forgot. Maybe the perpetrator didn’t.”

The only clue they found was a shoe print. They, like Aunt Astrid and me, didn’t have Treacle’s sharp feline senses.