Part 6

My doctor’s appointment was bright and early at quarter after nine. He kept it short, checked my vitals, drew my blood, and promised to run every test he and the hospital could think of and give me a call as the results came in. Worked for me since I had already been assured by my insurance agent that all the tests would be covered by the standards in the plan that all Gordan's employees were on. According to him, being a private investigator was dangerous enough to warrant a ridiculous amount of coverage. A quick trip to the grocery and I was back at my apartment by ten thirty and a message from Trish was waiting on my machine.
“Hey, Jimmy-Dee, it's Trish,” The machine buzzed as I put my groceries away. Orango sat by the box, watching it, tail twitching. “I have to do some errands for Aunt Krys this morning, so I can pick you up on my way back to her place. I'll probably be there around eleven. Aunt Krys says you can bring Orango if you want. I'm okay with that as long as he doesn't claw up my new seats. I'll see you in a few! Bye!”
The cat pounced on the button to save the message and leave the inbox. Sometimes I think I poisoned my cat's mind with microwaved milk and fast food scraps and he's mutated or something. I might not always believe a lot of the stuff Krys ranted about, but she was smarter than half the vets in this city. Tons of people, mostly locals and people who can't afford a vet when their pets get sick, visit her and everyone who I had spoken to about it had sung her praises.
Krys was a bizarre mix of veterinarian, voodoo priestess, mental patient, and pot dealer that just made me uneasy. I had been to her suburban home once and the experience had been bad enough that after five years I still seriously didn't want to go to her. I almost called Trish and told her to forget it, I wasn't going, but I caught sight of the file on my kitchen counter sticking out of my briefcase. A glance in the mirror over the stove proved those damn fang marks were still there, and I remembered why I had called Trish to begin with. Puremount scared me a hundred billion times more than freaky geeky Krys. The brave man from my dream told me to find a witch, and Trish's aunt was the only one I knew.
As I expected, Trish arrived at noon, ranting as soon as I got in the car with Orango about some a*****e man ruining her day. It was sort of hilarious since she wasn't a lesbian. Every few hours she had some horror story of how bad men were, but she still dated dudes. She was a Starburst, a juicy contradiction, and it's what had made Trish my bestie the very first day we had together in our dorm room our first year of college.
“Okay so how screwed are you?” The other woman asked as we stopped at a light. “What's got you so scared that you wanna see the Boogeywoman of Suburbia, as you so charmingly call her?”
“Can we save it for your aunts?”
Trish huffed. “Whatever. You are always so secretive, Jimmy Dee. Can't I at least have the SparkNotes version and you can go into details with Aunt K?”
“Um, well, remember when I was shot the year before last and I said that was the most dangerous situation I had ever been in the middle of?”
“Of course you hid out at my apartment for like four months.”
“This is a hundred billion trillion times worse.”
“S**t! You sure?”
“Oh, yeah, I am so sure. I haven’t slept in peace since I went to the hospital.”
“Well it’s a good thing you’re going to Aunt K, then. She’ll fix it up for you. Personally I can’t wait to hear about what scares you. I bet it’s huge, like, Mafia huge.”
“It’s as huge as Orango’s fluffy a*s.”
We shared a look and laughed loud enough to upset Orango, who promptly curled himself up as far under the back of my seat as he could. We chatted about other things, normal stuff, all the way to the little town of Crowthorne in Brekshire an hour away from London. It was a little quiet place, the most active spot being Wellington College, and it was about the last place I expected a self-proclaimed witch to live. She even lived in one of those neighborhoods that people obsessed over in the US, the perfect white-picket fenced, friendly neighbor-filled, no crime sort of place people wanted to raise families in. It was creepy that she could fit so seamlessly into a community made up of married couples and kids and well-to-do folks.
And speaking of kids, when Trish and I pulled through the gate in the six foot high privacy hedge surrounding Kyrs’s house on the edge of her suburban neighborhood I spotted two girls, the taller one close to thirteen and the other about ten, sitting on the large porch’s bench swing. Trish got out and went to chat with the kids while I fished Orango out from behind my seat.
I was climbing the handful of steps when the front door opened and a man came out holding a kitten and a box of cat supplies apparently to get the girls started with their new pet. I stopped on the top step and I swear I think my heart stopped. It was him, the man from my dream that had told me to find a witch; he was standing there instructing the girls about kitten basics like a normal person. I almost fell down the steps and squeezed my firey fuzzball too tight, making him meow and bat a paw at my face. Trish frowned at me.
“Hey, Jimmy, you okay?” she asked taking a step toward me.
My brain was having a field day explaining his presence. It felt like I was having a stroke. “What the f**k is he doing here?”
“Jimmy! There’s kids here! Are you feeling okay?”
“Of course I’m not okay, Trish, do I f*****g look okay?!”
“Miss, perhaps you should come in and sit down.” He smiled and offered his hand like he was trying to coax a cat out from under the couch.
“F**k you! She planned all this, didn’t she?? This is all some plot she cooked up to get me back here, isn’t it?!?” I jerk away from Trish and back away toward the gate, scrambling for my cell phone while holding the now annoyed ginger panther cat. “No I don't need this right now!”
“Jeemyma Elanore, stop causing a scene in my yard. You are frightening the children.” A woman came out of the house, the Witch of Corwthone herself in a teal dress so long she had to lift the hem to not trip on it when she walked. She was just a few inches shorter than I was and her hair was a dark brown with copper sun streaks. Her eyes were a deep blue that was almost black that displayed her disapproval as she sternly pointed into the house. “Go inside and make some tea and collect yourself. You know if I had ever wanted to force you back I wouldn't need to resort to such low tricks.”
I stood frozen and watched her soothe the girls. I felt the air stir as she wove her magic on the kids, making them forget my terrified outburst. She was too much like my great-aunt and her daughter, both horrible women who used their gifts to harm people for money. That kind of thing leaves a stain on your soul, and I knew Krys had stains. I felt them in the presence of her will as she wove the world to suit her. She could have probably teleported me from my own apartment into her house if she had wanted.
And there she went calling me by my birth name! Did everyone I was scared shitless of know it? What was the point of even having a false identity if everyone you would hide from knew your real one? I might as well go back to Indiana where I never had to juggle witches, vampires, and murders all in one go. I clung to the rage at her knowing something I hide so carefully, it chased the fear out of my brain enough for me to soothe the furball digging his claws into my shoulder. Pain and anger is all I have ever needed to focus.
“Trish, dear, help Jimmy into the kitchen and make some of the chamomile tea I asked you to get this morning. Kiet, could you walk the girls home so their mother doesn't worry?” Krys scooped Orango out of my arms and itched under his chin as he purred. “I will see to this handsome fellow. He is looking very healthy, Jimmy Dear.”
Figured a witch would know just what to say to poke a neat little hole in my rage balloon. I don’t even know why I bothered trying to compose myself; everyone seemed bent on destroying whatever dignity I could muster. My traitorous cat could have helped me out by not liking Krys, but I never get what I want anyway.
“Um…. Thanks?” I let Trish take me inside and sat at the island in the kitchen as I watched her make tea. I was already emotionally exhausted, and I had barely said two words to the woman herself. If I had money to bet it'd be on that this afternoon would be my death.

Author's Note

Same as always enjoy.