CineMagic

  **

  “Okay, Connie. We have solved the movie theater murders,” I said as we drove back to my house, Connie in tow. Her car was still back at the theater; I did not care. She could take the bus or something to get it when I was done with her.

  “Actually, I do not think anyone was killed at the theater, Eric,” Lydia pointed out.

  “I know that. But you know what else I know? Telling people you solved the case of 'the obnoxious movie theater gremlin who ended up not successfully hurting anyone' just really, really sounds lame. So for the sake of our own reputations, I just want you to understand that if anyone asks, we are pretending there were some murders. There were murders and we solved them. Is that clear?” I asked.

  “It just seems that is something a person could look up to find it is untrue rather easily.”

  “Well, I'm sorry, but the truth is stupid. And when the truth is stupid, you tell lies to make yourself sound more impressive. That's how my mother raised me, and it has always served me well,” I said firmly, making the sign of the cross to make sure that mom didn't somehow hear herself being mentioned and show up. That would just make an already annoying night even worse.

  “That... explains so very much,” Lydia said.

  Connie raised a hand hesitantly. “Um... I hate to ruin the discussion, but... why am I still handcuffed?”

  “Because I don't have the key,” I informed her. “Besides, this way, you're not able to run away again. I mean, I need you to tell me where to find your evil sister, right? So I can't have you flipping out and fleeing from me again.”

  “H-hey! There was a ghost!”

  “And you're a witch. What kind of self-respecting witch is afraid of ghosts?”

  “I am not a ghost!” Lydia interjected. “Ghosts feed on fear and murder people senselessly! I am a guardian spirit, I guard. They are not even similar!”

  “Sorry, sorry. You just have some basic physical characteristics in common with ghosts, is all,” I said in what I hoped was a soothing tone.

  “Racist.”

  “We are being cursed by a witch, Lydia. There is no word for how much I'm not having this discussion right now,” I informed her. Lydia got... shall we say, “sensitive” regarding the varieties of undead and the assorted differences between them. Nothing and nobody could stop her when she was passionate about something; death has given her boundless determination. The best I could do was slow her down and hope she got distracted by something else before she started talking about starting a Spirit's Rights campaign again.

  “Oh, what a surprise. You are not sensitive to my needs,” Lydia sniffed. “After this night, perhaps I should just begin staying home. You clearly don't care about me at all.”

  “Huh? Where did that come from?”

  “This was supposed to be our movie night, Eric, not your 'go shoot a witch' night.”

  “Well, it isn't my fault the theater got closed down. They tend to do that when something explodes in it,” I snapped back.

  Lydia sighed. “Yes, I know, and I apologize. I am just so frustrated. I will already never have a normal life again. I know that all too well. But it feel as if the world is determined to not even let me pretend to have one. Perhaps I should just consign myself to a 'life' of violence and horror with no respite.”

  Awwwwwwwwww. Dammit all, now I felt bad. Stupid conscience. “Um... well, there's another theater in Glens Falls, I think? It's a bit longer of a drive, it's also still pretty early. Let's see, eight o'clock now, so if we hurry and this witch thing doesn't take too long, yeah, I think we'll be able to make a late night showing, if you w—”

  “Really?” she squealed, her eyes bright. “You would do that for me? Oh, glorious! You are a true comrade, Eric! Thank you so much!”

  Ugh. I'm too nice for my own good sometimes. Well, I guess it makes up for me being too mean for everyone else's own good the rest of the time. “Okay, Connie! I'm ready to acknowledge your existence again.”

  “Thanks?” Connie said. Or asked. Her tone of voice was a bit hard to interpret.

  “I need to find your evil sister. Her curse is actually really low quality, but you would be shocked how quickly it gets old. Do you have some way of pulling that off?”

  “Alas! Michelle's dark powers have protected her against my spells, allowing her to defend against any attempts at scrying her position! I have no way of finding her, and forcing the epic confrontation that is sure to result from that ultimate battle of light against darkn—”

  “Short version, please.”

  “No, I can't find her,” Connie said, a bit glumly.

  “Not with magic, but there's always the old-fashioned way. She has to be somewhere fairly close by; magic has limits. The further you want your curse to travel, the more power you need to give it, and unless Michelle is a once-in-a-lifetime prodigy, she must be within a hundred or so miles of me. Next, to get a channel to me, she would have needed something of mine. So she knows where I live, which... ew. But I haven't seen any sign of a break-in lately, have you, Lyd? I would have noticed if someone had forced the lock...”

  “I would have sensed if someone had entered the house without permission. It is my house,” Lydia said, her tone making it very clear she was not just being possessive here. She and her home were linked in a way I couldn't understand, and if someone entered without being invited, she would just know. Simple as that.

  “Well, that makes things a little easier. She must have broken into the van, then! I should have known leaving it just parked outside was a bad plan,” I said with a sigh. “So... everyone? Do we see any clues in here?”

  “I have not noticed anything out of sorts, Eric. And I doubt Connie would have noticed at all, she is not exactly used to this,” Lydia pointed out.

  “Yeah... honestly, she probably just took a hair from the driver's seat or something, that would suit her purposes. She probably never even got inside. Maybe she left something in the yard? Or... ugh, this is annoying...” I muttered.

  “I wish I could do more to help you. But I know not where my sister might make her lair of evil in this area, having no knowledge of wherein one might find yon Comfort Inn,” Connie said dramatically.

  I slammed on the brakes, causing Connie to slam her face into the back of my seat.

  “Ow...”

  I turned to face her, ignoring her discomfort. “What did you just say?”

  “Oh, um. Michelle has like, one of those membership cards for a discount at Comfort Inn, you know? So, she probably is staying there,” Connie said. “I mean, we're still in school, and witching doesn't pay well, so...”

  I twitched a few times. “Connie. You are aware of this thing called the internet, right? We can look this shit up from any random coffee house!”

  “Eric, be more polite. She is a lady, no matter how limited her professional competence might be,” Lydia chided me.

  “So what, somehow my questioning her competence is rude, but it's okay when you do it?” I asked.

  “I am also a lady. Do you think I never socialized in my life, Eric? Cattiness is practically a requirement when dealing with the sort of woman who marries into old money, I have quite a lot of experience in making other women feel bad about themselves,” Lydia said demurely. “Connie, this really was quite a glaring oversight. For shame, dear.”

  “I just thought that it wasn't impressive to just run a Google search,” Connie muttered. “I wanted to solve the crime with my magick...”

  “So?” I asked. “And stop saying 'magic' with a 'k.'”

  “How do you...”

  “I can always spot the 'k'!” I snapped. “Come on, let's find a cafe with Wi-fi before I get more annoyed.”“Come on, let's find a cafe with wi-fi before I get more annoyed.”