CHAPTER THREE
Funny how talk of a violent murder and missing people could make you in a hurry to end your meeting.
I left the pretty French restaurant with my mind racing from everything that I’d learned.
After sending Dex a quick text telling him that I was going to run a few errands while I was out, I strolled along trying to think of what my smartest move would be going forward.
I’m sure there were plenty of folks in the Witch community that simply assumed I could whip up a spell and fix any problem that came my way.
However, as the Magistra, magick was typically my last resort—shocking but true.
Magick wasn’t a Band-Aid for every inconvenience, and tossing spells around willy-nilly often created more problems for the caster.
I conserved my power, that way when my magick was required there was much more force behind it. The High Priestess card Circe had pulled for me early was accurate. Serenity, wisdom and restraint, were all qualities required of higher-level practitioners.
Nonetheless, there was something else. Something Montgomery and I hadn’t discussed that was bothering me…
We had a young couple, both involved in the magickal community, each in a position close to power. Sawyer worked for and was friends with Charles Montgomery, and there was Shelby with her proximity to me.
And what were the odds that the secretary to the Magistra of the Witchcraft Community, and the executive assistant of the leader of a ceremonial lodge of magicians were a couple, let alone involved in the theft of a rare book, and possibly the murder of their roommate?
The odds were slim. Though, in my world there were no such things as coincidences.
I had always found Shelby Murphy to be smart, capable and friendly. She worked in the history department offices at UAB as a research assistant to one of the professors and was also an adjunct instructor teaching part time.
As to Sawyer, he was a charming young man.
Shelby had introduced me to him, and I’d seen him in the bookstore as well as at a few community events, but I’d honestly had no idea of his affiliation to the ceremonial lodge.
Which made me wonder if he had been a sort of spy for the lodge, attending local Witch events and then reporting back to his superiors...
Or was it Shelby herself reporting back to the lodge? That thought had me coming to a sudden stop on the sidewalk. There’s no proof that she’d been doing any spying... I reminded myself. But I had to admit that the possibility that she might have been playing me to gain information was concerning.
My cell phone began to ring. Pulling it out, I noticed the call was from Ruth Thomas, one of the local coven leaders.
I stepped out of the way of foot traffic on the sidewalk and answered. “Hello Ruth.” I forced cheer into my voice. “How’s that new grandbaby of yours do—”
Which was as far as I got because Ruth was shouting. “You’re not going to believe this. It’s gone!”
“Wait,” I said. “What’s gone?
“The bank account for the Witches Ball has been practically cleaned out!”
“What?” I asked, shocked at the news. “When did this happen?”
Ruth’s reply was a lot of swearing.
“Ruth,” I said over her. “Take a breath, try and calm down, and then tell me what happened.”
“I’m sorry,” Ruth said, pulling in a deep breath. “Give me a second, Lorna. I’m really rattled. Sorry that I shouted.”
“That’s okay,” I said, listening as Ruth exhaled. “Tell me what happened.”
“I went to the bank today to get a cashier’s check to put the deposit down on the ballroom for the event, and when I did, I was informed that the account had insufficient funds!”
“Besides yourself, who has access to the account?” I asked.
“Shelby Murphy,” she said. “Only Shelby and I can make withdrawals.”
“Damn it!” I muttered, even as my heart sank. “When did the bank say she made the withdrawal?”
“That was the first thing I asked,” Ruth said. “The teller said she made the withdrawal three days ago.”
Three days, I thought. Three days ago was when Montgomery noticed the missing book, and Sawyer stopped showing up for work.
“Is it possible,” I began, “that Shelby made the deposit to the ballroom and forgot to tell you?”
“I checked on that too,” Ruth said. “Shelby isn’t answering her cell phone, and the ballroom has not had any payment. Also, the bank informed me that Shelby took almost everything out of the account. Five thousand dollars—in cash.”
“Sonofabitch,” I swore under my breath. The amount made sense to me as most banks had a limit of a five-thousand-dollar cash withdrawal.
“I guess I’ll have to go to the police and report this,” Ruth said. “I can’t believe it. Shelby was such a nice girl. Why would she do such a thing? I’m going to have to inform the rest of the Witches Ball committee too... I really hope we won’t have to cancel the event.”
“I promise you,” I said. “We’ll figure out some way to replace the funds.”
“The deposit for the ballroom is due by the end of the week,” Ruth said. “The truth is that we’re never going to be able to raise that sort of money that fast. Most of the funds in the bank were from fundraising and advance ticket sales...”
“Ruth,” I cut her off. “You should speak to the police about this. Because Shelby and her boyfriend are both missing. The police will definitely want to know about her taking out all the money from the account.”
“Oh my goddess!” Ruth said. “Shelby’s missing? Since when?”
“For at least—”
“Three days?” Ruth guessed, then sighed in disappointment. “Damn it. Why would she steal from the community?”
Frustrated, I blew my bangs out of my eyes. “I don’t know what to think at this point in time.”
“I’ll go drive straight over to the police department and talk to someone. Have them write up a report,” Ruth said. “I’ve got all the paperwork the bank gave me. Maybe it will help them find her, and the money.”
“Keep me in the loop,” I said. “And why don’t we plan on meeting at the store tonight—say after close—and see if we can figure out a way to save the Witches Ball.”
“I could be there at six,” Ruth said.
“Perfect,” I said. “Call me if you need anything else.”
“I will,” she said. “Thanks, Lorna.”
We ended the call and I shut my eyes knowing the scandal of the missing Witches Ball funds would be all over the community within hours.
What in the hell has Shelby gotten herself mixed up with?
I wondered. First there was a priceless grimoire apparently stolen by her boyfriend.
Next their roommate had been murdered, and she and Sawyer were both missing…
and now I’d found out that she’d cleaned out the Witches Ball bank account. Taken the cash and ran, apparently.
This was beyond bad. It would only be a matter of time before the police wanted to question me about what I knew about Shelby. Because they would speak to any of her friends, family, and employers. And once Ruth filed her report about Shelby cleaning out the account...
I debated calling Montgomery and sharing this news with him, but what I needed before doing that was deeper information about the missing couple. And I needed it to be gathered through conventional means.
Fortunately, I had a guy. He was a mundane, but damn good at his job. Selecting a number from my contacts list, I sent the call through.
The phone rang twice and was answered. “Nash Ellington, private investigator.”
“Hey, Nash,” I said. “It’s Lorna.”
“Hey gorgeous, what’s up?” he asked.
“Are you in your office? I need to talk to you.”
“I am,” he said. “I’m free until four.”
“Perfect. I’m on my way.”
Ending the call, I slipped my phone back in my purse and quickened my pace, heading back to the bookstore so I could drive my car over to Nash’s office.
Nash Ellington’s office was located in a brick strip mall in Five Points South.
On either side of him, was a laundromat and a small Mexican grocery store.
As I parked, I smiled at the Lady of Guadalupe novena candles on display in the window and walked to his entrance.
Maybe I’d purchase one on the way home. Guadalupe was all about miracles, and I could definitely use some of that energy right about now.
Pushing the door open, I found Nash sitting behind his L-shaped desk with a bottle of Mexican Coca-Cola and a to-go container of food. He was tall, blonde, and buff with a military short-style haircut.
“I’m sorry,” I said automatically. “I’m interrupting your lunch.”
He waved that away. “It’s fine. Take a seat.”
I took one of the chairs in front of his desk and no sooner did I sit, my stomach decided to growl. Very loudly.
A wide grin split his face. “You want a chicken taco and some chips? I’ve got enough to share.”
“I would,” I admitted. “It’s been a hell of a day.”
Nash handed me a paper napkin and passed me a taco. It smelled delicious. Next, he scooted the chip container closer, then reached under his desk and pulled another soft drink out from a mini fridge. He twisted the top off and passed that over too.
“Thanks,” I said.
“What brings you in?” he asked and then took a bite of his food.
“I was hoping you could look into someone’s—well, two individuals’ backgrounds for me. Where they are from, and who their people are. And I need it done quietly.”
“As in off the books?”
I shook my head. “No, I need you to keep this on the down low because one man has been murdered and two other people are missing. I am concerned that one of the missing—who is an acquaintance of mine—might have gotten mixed up in something dangerous. Because from what I just learned, she also recently made a large withdrawal from the Witches Ball bank account.”
“How much did she take?” he asked.
“Five thousand dollars,” I said as I pulled the onions off my taco. “The bank said she took it in cash. She basically cleaned them out.”
His eyebrows went up. “Tell me what you know,” he said.