Arrest, Search and Séance : Book 1 of the Fringe Society by R.D. Hunter (pdf e book reader TXT) 📕

us and we’ll curse you in a dozen different ways that will make your mama cry when she sees you.”

“First of all,” I said, “that’s just adorable. But see, this whole high school bully thing you’ve got going on, it’s been done. No one’s impressed by it. Everyone here has dealt with darker powers than you before our seventh birthday. And while we’re on the subject, you might want to be careful what kind of curses you fling around, because those things have a habit of returning three times as strong as when you conjured them. And if you’re thinking there’s no way you can suffer more than you already have because Daddy never told you he loved you, think again. So, be a good little girl and go watch The Craft for the hundredth time because, quite frankly, you’re giving us real witches a bad name.” I smiled sweetly at her and, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jack bite his lip to keep from laughing.

Trisha turned red, then purple. The other two members of her bitch-witch squad stood there with their mouths hanging open at seeing their cruel and fearless leader orally filleted and served on a plate. The air grew warmer as she began raising her power, probably intending to curse me to oblivion

“You…you filthy, fucking cu…”

“CHANG!” Jack yelled, cutting her off in mid-witty repartee. The huge Asian was there in half a second, folding his impressive arms across his massive chest and glowering as if it were the end of the world.

Trisha’s tirade cut off with a little squeak and she and her minions shrank back from his enormous presence. Despite her bluster and delusion of invincibility, she could see that Chang was no one to be trifled with. That didn’t stop me from having a bit of fun, though.

“Hey, Trisha,” I whispered loud enough for the whole place to hear, “tell Chang that bit about the tattoos and brain cells. Go ahead. He’ll laugh. He has a great sense of humor.” I could hear her breaths coming, sharp and deep, as she glared at me.

“I think it’s time you ladies head out,” Jack said, ever the voice of reason. “Come back when you’re feeling a little more pleasant.”

To their credit, they didn’t argue. None of them dared to even utter a syllable with Chang looming like the right hand of doom.

With Trisha in the lead, they pulled themselves up with as much dignity as they could muster, nodded politely to everyone but me, and went out the side door. Chang resumed his post after looking around to make sure there were no other potential troublemakers in the place. There weren’t. The few customers who were here actually seemed pleased to see Trisha and her posse gone.

“I’d forgotten how sharp that tongue of yours can be,” Jack said, a little smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Well, I aim to please,” I said, then forced myself to get serious. “It’s great to see you, Jack, but I’m actually here on business.” I pulled out a picture of Nichole Barret I’d lifted from her file. It showed her alive and smiling, the picture of health. “Do you recognize this woman? She ever come in here?” I asked, showing it to him.

All the charm and humor vanished from his face, to be replaced by a look of guarded suspicion. I didn’t take it personally. Despite our past history, the Fringe took their privacy extremely seriously. For some of us, it was the only way we could survive. If it got out that the manager of the Lit Candle was giving away a person’s comings and goings to the police of all things, this place would empty out faster than a sinking ship.

“Why? What did she do?” he asked in a neutral tone.

“Died, horribly. I’m trying to find out more about her but there’s precious little to go on. I need to talk to someone who knew her, someone she was close to.” I saw the shock register on Jack’s face.

“Oh, wow. That’s terrible. Yeah, I mean, she came in here some. Quiet lass, I never caught her name. Hung around with Beth and some of her lot. Good people.”

“Beth who?”

He looked troubled. A witch’s name wasn’t something to be given out lightly, even to someone you trusted. It didn’t have as much kick, magically speaking, as when you gave out your own, but there was still that element of familiarity that could be used by someone looking to cause harm. Which raised the question, did he not trust me anymore?

I put that on the back burner for later.

“Look, I’ll…I’ll give you her address. You can go talk with her. If there’s anyone who knew that girl and what was going on in her life, it’s Beth.” He pulled out a piece of paper and scribbled on it for a few seconds before handing it to me. I recognized an apartment complex not too far from here.

Wait a second; how did Jack have her address? I arched a quizzical eyebrow at him, but he returned the look with about as much expression as a rock, daring me to ask the question. I didn’t. The nature of their relationship, past or present, was their own business. It was Beth’s relationship to Nichole Barret that concerned me.

“Thanks, Jack,” I said, folding the piece of paper and tucking it in my coat pocket. “I owe you one.” He shook his head.

“Just find out who killed her. That’ll be more than enough for me. And don’t be a stranger, ya hear? Visit more often than a blue moon on the solstice.” I patted his hand in a friendly gesture, letting my fingers linger a moment before pulling away.

“I will, I promise. Talk to you soon.”

My head and my heart were all over the place as