Witches for Hire (Odd Jobs #1)(97)

“Do you mind if I go through them now? I believe your opinion is valuable too.”

“Go ahead. Today is my hike day, so nobody will miss me.” Ben sat on a large rock and removed his shoes and socks. He dipped his toes in the stream. “I’ll get comfortable while you read.”

Clive found his own rock to spread out on and opened the first book. The notes began with trivial dates and case names. Some were marked with unhappy faces because of repeat customers due to stupidity. Humor and excitement seeped into the notes after the arrival of two witches Levi hired on when he could afford it. Clive smiled as Levi documented his problems with Simone’s eavesdropping and Jeremy’s cantankerous behavior. Then they grew worrisome as Levi delved into their first shared employer, who left for another country and was never seen again. Jeremy’s name was written next to “killer” with a question mark. Clive’s shoulders bunched, but he kept reading. The next pages described the workplace becoming more stressful, but then the entries skipped a few weeks. They started back up again with that former employer found in France. There was a bolded note that if the man ever went near Jeremy again, Levi would bring the man up for attempted murder charges with the Council.

Clive blew out his breath. Shit. Why didn’t he write what happened? The entries moved on to Levi’s gestures of goodwill to earn Jeremy’s trust. Evidently Levi succeeded because the mistrustful man was described as open and helpful in gaining new customers. “That I definitely would have liked the exact details of,” Clive whispered. As he read on, Clive realized that the more specific the notes, the less emotional Levi was. Levi must have cared a great deal about Jeremy to be so vague. Last Resort, the name of Levi’s business, ran smoothly for several months until an innocent case about a child searching for her imaginary friend. Now dread filled Clive because he knew what was coming. The first body and then others found that were publically attributed to exposure. The angrier Levi was about the murders, the more the daily notes became a few short phrases. Another bolded note: Desmond. Similar Murder in England.

Clive frowned. Is that what caused the black aura? Another entry described Levi flying to London, followed by notes of crossed-out names except for, “The Angel and the Devil.” The Devil had Desmond in parentheses next to it and a question mark beside Angel. This must be a person too. But if Levi thought Desmond was the serial killer, why did he work with him? And there was no sign of the energy vamp boss Perry was supposedly working for. For pages onward, the entries were about regular jobs until an entry documenting a homeless man who had witnessed a woman faint right next to him two weeks before Levi died. Clive closed the books in frustration.

“I share that sentiment,” Ben said quietly.

“None of this makes sense.”

“I have another stumper for you.” Ben brushed off his shorts and walked to Clive. He squatted beside him. “I can’t figure out why Desmond isn’t an energy vamp. That first kill should have done it, but he’s not addicted to sucking down magic.”

“My employees witnessed him shape a body into a crystal instead of absorbing all of its power. Maybe that’s what he did in London.”

Ben shook his head. “I think Levi thought he had some sort of powerful object that protects him when he absorbs a lot of magic. I think he and Perry were partners, they had a falling out, and what Perry really wanted was that artifact.”

“What good would it do Perry after he’d already turned into an energy vamp?”

Ben shrugged. “Maybe Perry thought it could restore him.”

“What about Perry’s boss?”

“No one has actually seen her. This could be a North by Northwest situation, and she doesn’t exist.”

Clive tilted his head to the side. “I have no idea why cardinal directions are applicable to this case.”

A long black eyebrow rose into a curl loose from Ben’s topknot. “Do yourself a favor and look up Alfred Hitchcock films. You’ll thank me later.”

Clive gritted his teeth. Why does everything in this world have to be a damn movie reference?





Chapter 25


“DO YOU think I’m too softhearted?” Jeremy asked.

Simone raised an eyebrow at her desk phone, from which Jeremy’s voice was emanating. “I think it’s safe to say yes. What’s bringing on the small talk?” Jesus, Jeremy had been weird all week. Usually he got grumpier and grumpier, but lately the opposite had happened. “Who are you fucking?”

There was a sputtering sound from the other end.

Simone smiled. Nailed it like someone’s nailing him….

“You certainly make a lot of assumptions,” Jeremy finally said.

“A minute-later response means I’m right.” She opened her water and drank a couple sips. A woman walked in view of the office and kept walking toward the door. “Yes, my boredom is over!” Talking to Nice Jeremy isn’t bad, but the quick turnaround is creepy.

“Do you mind having lunch with me today? I recently got something off my chest, and I’ve been thinking that keeping too many secrets from—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Later.” Simone clicked off the speakerphone.

The soccer-mom-looking woman came inside the office with her purse clutched tightly in her hands. “You are Witches for Hire, correct?”