Pretty Witches All in a Row (8 page)

It was later than he would have liked when Nick pulled into the driveway of his home.  The modest, three bedroom house was all ablaze with light, and he could hear the music all the way out in the car before he even opened the garage door.  “Sounds like V’s home,” he murmured, leaving the car.  The music swelled as he opened the door into the hallway, the music dark and throbbing. 

Nick ventured deeper into the house, finding his teenaged daughter at the kitchen table, head bobbing to the music, bent over a textbook.  How she could study with all that racket was beyond him, but he had to smile at the way her little spiky ponytails bounced, oblivious to his presence. 

Not for the first time, he fretted over her appearance, thinking she looked more like a college co-ed than a high school girl in that get up.  Her naturally wavy, medium brown hair was dyed a vibrant red color that didn’t occur in nature; straightened within an inch of its life so that the ends of her ponytails stuck out at odd angles making him think of a burst of fireworks.  A black velvet choker wrapped around her pale throat, and her ears boasted three sets of piercings apiece.  Nick flat out put his foot down on piercing any other part of her body until she was eighteen, and he had two years left to hope she grew out of that phase.  As per usual, she wore a short skirt, not indecently so, but shorter than he would have liked on principle. 

Her outfit du jour consisted of a black denim miniskirt, frayed at the bottom and no fewer than three visible shirts of varying lengths in shades of alternating black and red.  Brown eyes that mirrored his own were heavily lined with dark gunk, and lips stained a vibrant shade of red.  Veronica looked as if she was dressed to go to a club instead of sitting at home doing her homework.  Though Nick had to consider; better to have her dressed for clubbing and home doing her homework than dressed like a librarian and out all hours of the night doing God knows what.

“Hi Daddy,” she called out without turning around.

Surprised, he set his briefcase down on the table opposite her.  “I didn’t think you knew I was there,” he yelled over the music.

“Please, I could feel you standing there watching me.”

“What if it hadn’t been me?  What if I was a robber or worse?  Then it wouldn’t make much sense to leave me standing there with your back turned,” he taunted her, but in a way he was serious.  A girl at home alone, he hoped he’d raised her to have a little more self preservation than that. 

“Then turning around and freaking out wouldn’t have changed a whole lot by the time he’s right behind me, would it?” she pointed out, her head tilting to one side.  “Besides, I saw your reflection in the window when you came in, I knew it was you the whole time.”

“Why didn’t you say that in the first place?”

“I didn’t want to miss out on lecture number twelve, it’s been overdue,” she grinned cheekily.

A shake of the head was given, but a smile was on Nick’s face as he shrugged out of his suit coat.  The music seemed to swell even louder, drawing his attention to the lyrics that sang about dying, killing and stealing for you.

“What is this?”  His finger came up, pointing to the air around them.

“Garbage,” Veronica replied, head bobbing again.

“I know, but who sings it?”

A drawn out roll of the eyes was given, and she fixed him with
the look
before answering.  “That’s the name of the group.  Garbage.”  She grabbed the remote and lowered the volume.  “You know, they did that theme song to the James Bond movie you liked?”

“Hey, who am I to argue,” he shrugged, an amused smile on his lips.

“Ha, ha.”  Rising from the table, she brought her empty glass to the kitchen sink.  “You missed dinner again.”

“I know, I’m sorry, sweetie.  First day of the case, you know how it is.  What did you make?”

“Coq au vin…” she replied with a flourish, opening the fridge.  “Only the leftovers look more like ham sandwiches,” Veronica grinned, pulling a ready plate out and depositing it on the table before him. 

“Ah, my little budding gourmet.  This looks fantastic, thanks honey,” he smiled up at her.  

“So, what kind of case is it this time?  Jilted lover?  Disgruntled business partner?” Veronica asked, setting down a tall glass of iced tea.

“Not really sure yet.  The victim was stabbed and then the place was set on fire to try and mask the crime.”

“Wow,” her eyes widened.  “That’s one you don’t hear every day.”  Nick nodded, his mouth occupied with chewing.  “So who would want to kill him?  Or is it a her?”

“Her,” Nick clicked open the briefcase and drew out the smiling picture of Skye. 

“Aw…”  Veronica’s forehead creased sympathetically.  “She doesn’t look like she could hurt a fly.” 

“And according to friends and family, everybody loved her.”

“Jealous boyfriend,” she stated with a definitive nod, setting the picture down.

“You think?” 

“Sure, why not?  I mean look at her, she had to have a boyfriend, and with that smile I’m thinking she got hit on a lot.  Maybe the boyfriend couldn’t take it?  You know, if I can’t have you, no one else will?”  Her eyes lit up as she warmed to the theory.

“It sounds like you’ve got it all sewn up.  I guess I can close up shop and forget the rest of the investigation,” he smirked, laughing when she gave him a playful punch to the shoulder. 

“What’s your theory then?” she challenged.

“I’m not sure yet, but it turns out there was another fire a few weeks ago, another girl was killed.”

“Did they know each other?”

“Yep, part of the same coven.” 

“Coven… as in vampires?”  Her brown eyes widened to the size of saucers and he couldn’t resist laughing. 

“No, but not too far off.  Coven as in witches.”

“Get outta town, really?  That’s it then, that’s the connection.  Maybe we’ve got a witch hunter in town looking to save the world from the dark arts?”

“Or maybe they were killed as part of a dark, secret ritual,” Nick lowered his voice dramatically.

“Oh come on, Daddy, it’s not like it is on TV, it’s a religion for most modern witches, same as being Hindu or Buddhist.”

“What do you know about any of that?”

“Social studies.”  She gave a careless shrug, sliding back into her chair again.

“They teach you about witches in school?”

“Sure, it’s a part of Americana; witches have been persecuted throughout time you know.  Anytime a baby got sick or a guy got caught with his fly open, someone cried witch.  We learned all about their persecution, back in the burning times.”

“Huh, yeah I suppose that is part of our history.  I guess I should have come to you with all my questions, then I wouldn’t have had to go down to Argent Flame,” he chuckled. 

“Oh, that shop down on Hawthorne?”

“You’ve been there?”  His head came up in surprise, not quite sure how he felt about that. 

“Yeah, lots of times… or actually, no… nope, never heard of it,” she amended after catching the look on his face.  “What?” 

“Why were you in a store that sells witch stuff?”

“Um… cause it’s awesome?  They have cool jewelry and stuff, totally cheaper than you can find downtown.  Besides, that’s not all they sell, they have interesting books there, and they never kick you out for just hanging out whether you buy something or not.”

“Oh.”  That didn’t sound so bad.  “So you’re not… planning on delving into the black arts anytime soon?  Do I need to be checking your dresser drawers for bags of some other kind of little green herbs now?”

“Knock yourself out, like I’d really keep anything in my dresser drawers,” she snorted. 

“Good thing I know all the places to look,” he winked at her and Veronica looked appalled.

“Do you really search my room?”   

“Cop.  It’s a habit,” he shrugged, finishing off the last of his sandwich. 

“I don’t even want to get into how unethical that is…” she muttered disgustedly, turning her attention back to her book.

“Hey, it’s my house.  Technically I own everything in it, including you, so there’s nothing wrong with my searching my own property.”   His tone was smug as he rose to deposit his dirty dishes in the sink.

Veronica turned around in her chair.  “Ok, what about a lack of trust?”

“Trust is earned V, you know that.  After that little episode back in LA, you’re back in the earning phase.”

“Trust is a two way street, Daddy.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that… it’s a blow to my trust in you to know how little you trust me,” she replied, her eyes shiny with unshed tears. 

“Oh come on… hey…”  Nick gathered her in for a hug.  “I’m sorry, muffin, I do trust you.  I was kidding about the searching thing.  Mostly.”

“I’ve been trying really hard since we moved up here.”  Her voice came muffled from his shirt.

“I know, I do, I really do.  And you’ve been doing great.  Your grades are up and my stress levels where you are concerned are way down.”

“You do?”  She pulled back to look up at him.

“Of course I do.  It might seem like I’m wrapped up in my job sometimes, but you come first and you always will.  Hell, it’s
because
I trust you so much that I let myself get so wrapped up in my job.”  He smiled down at her, brushing the bangs back from her forehead. 

Veronica smiled back, the storm of emotions quickly passing.  “So… does that mean you’ll let me go camping with Eric this weekend?”

“Not a chance.”  He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. 

“Oh come on, it’s not like I’m asking to go on a drug fueled drive into the middle of nowhere, with a carload of randy college boys and my nubile but morally challenged girlfriends.   It’s with his family.”

“Nope, I remember what it was like to be a teenage boy, I’m not sending you someplace where you end up sharing a tent the moment his parents fall asleep.  If you want to bring around any of those nubile but morally challenged girlfriends though, I’d be open to that,” he grinned.

“God, you’re disgusting sometimes,” Veronica laughed, smacking him in the stomach and he ducked back out of range with a chuckle.

“I aim to please.”

“You’d better be careful or one of those witches is going to turn you into a frog.”

“Apparently it’s more trouble than it’s worth,” Nick muttered.  “Besides…” he remembered with a snap of the fingers, “I’ve got protection.”  Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew the tiger’s eye pendant Annaliese gave him earlier.

Veronica pulled the pendant closer, running her fingers over the design.  “This is really cool, where did you get it?”

“Annaliese gave it to me; she’s the owner of the witchy shop you’re so familiar with.”

“Really?  See, I told you they were nice there.”

“Have you met Annaliese before?”

“Not exactly.   I’ve seen her, but mostly I hang out with Feather whenever I go there.  She goes to my high school.”

“Ah, okay.”  So the girl was younger than she looked.  “And her name is really Feather?”  He raised a single brow.

“I think she changed it when she turned eighteen.”

“Who changes their name
to
Feather?”

“I think it’s pretty.  She’s cool, maybe a little flaky, but nice.”

“Yeah okay, but no hanging out with her naked in the park.”

“What?”

“Never mind.”  Nick snapped his briefcase shut and picked it up.  “I’m gonna go set up in the den.  Don’t stay up too late tonight, okay?”  He dropped another kiss on the top of her head. 

“Shouldn’t I be saying that to you?” her brow quirked.  “Don’t forget, the human brain works best if you get between six to eight hours of sleep at night.”

“I’ll sleep once I catch the killer.”

Veronica shook her head, turning back to her homework. 

Chapter Five

The station wasn’t as dead as one might think for the early hour.  There were plenty of other detectives eager to sacrifice sleep in the name of justice, especially during the first seventy-two hours of a case.  Sitting down at the computer, Nick was gratified to find some results from the crime scene unit in his inbox.  Park had been right, no illicit drugs hanging in the kitchen, just a bunch of harmless herbs.  Some a little more obscure than would be found in a normal spice rack, but easily obtainable.  The inventory of her spare room read like the product catalog for Annaliese’s shop, and once again he was struck by the fact that he had no idea what half of it was. 

One item that caught his attention was the analysis of the pentacle drawn on the ground.  It wasn’t salt as Annaliese had suggested, but appeared to be common dirt.  Unsure what the significance of that might be, he made a note of it to look into later. 

Park arrived with coffee precisely at six AM, with Brady trailing in a few minutes later, eager for an informal briefing to compare notes.   Nick gave his update first, no earth shattering conclusions since they’d parted ways the night before.

“What did you pick up on the boyfriend?” he asked expectantly.

“Dead end there I think,” Brady spoke up.  “He says they weren’t exclusive, they saw each other casually.  At the time of the murder he was working at the bar, the owner confirms it as well as two other employees and a couple of regulars we talked to.” 

“He did say something interesting though when we asked him about her friends,” Park interjected.  “He mentioned that Zoe Phillips, the first victim, came in frequently, usually in the company of Rose Spencer.”

“And that the two of them were ah… very friendly,” Brady added with a look.

“To him?”

“To each other.  Not at all shy about public demonstrations of affection.  He seemed to think they were an item.” 

“Huh.  That confirms some thoughts I had about our interview,” Nick considered aloud.  “Anything else useful from the bar?”

Park gave a brief shake of the head.  “No Sir, but I have my notes typed up for you to review.  I also have the report back from the M.E.  There was no sign of sexual assault.  She also found traces of laudanum in the body.  Not at levels to be considered lethal, but enough to knock out someone of her body weight.  Libby thinks it was mixed with a cup of herbal tea judging from the stomach contents.”