Ghost Witching

Madame L hesitated. “An annual income of seven figures. Several times that amount in investments.”

  “Millions?” Josh whistled. “That’s a clear motive. People have killed for a lot less.”

  “Indeed, this is true.”

  “What do you do with all of it?” Maggie couldn’t imagine having millions.

  LeMontaire’s smile was benign. “We’re active in medical research and children’s charities, support other organizations such as our own, and provide scholarships to many sisters and brothers in education and business ventures.”

  “It sounds like a huge corporation.”

  Madame L’s smile broadened. “It is. WHS Inc.”

  “But you don’t have a corporate headquarters or even an office I could find,” Maggie said.

  “We were concerned it would be a focal point for haters and importuners alike. No one wanted to spend their time dealing with the fallout. It had worked well this way for many years.”

  Josh leaned back. “You have corporate accountants, investment brokers, lawyers, the whole deal, I suppose.”

  “Of course.”

  Maggie glanced at Josh. “Your suggestion of a hostile takeover is a good analogy, except hostile takes on a new meaning among witches. Especially those calling upon the dark arts. Whether it exists or not, black magic is not invoked by those seeking peaceful change.” She transferred her attention back to the priestess. “Surely you suspect someone.”

  “No one is open in their opposition to me,” she said. “Though I have wondered if one or more is on the council, our board of directors. But everyone acts as if they are as concerned by the situation as I am.”

  Maggie’s eyes narrowed. Wasn’t Madame L supposed to be highly gifted? “Can’t you sense who’s lying?”

  The priestess’s lips twisted in a wry grimace. “Our thirteen council members are gifted witches. What could normally be sensed can also be hidden.”

  “Then how did you get wind of the takeover?” Josh asked.

  “Funds disappeared. They’d been diverted to bogus projects, fake charities, using electronic authorizations purporting to come from various council members, including myself. And rule changes have been added to our bylaws the last two years that have opened the membership, providing less scrutiny for new applicants. The proposed changes rose anonymously within the membership and were approved by secret ballot.” She set down her teacup. “The most frightening of those rules gave too much control to our witches’ council. While that wouldn’t be an issue as long as the board and membership are in harmony, I believe it is a prelude to a change of power.”

  “By a rebellion of your membership?” Maggie asked.

  “No, nothing so obvious. All it now takes is a simple majority vote of the board. Seven of thirteen votes. Since our votes are also by secret ballot, I don’t know how many they already control.” She lifted her hands in resignation. “It’s hard to protect yourself when you can’t identify the enemy or know their strength.”

  Maggie watched the woman’s face, wondering about her sudden cooperation. The story rang true, but as LeMontaire had admitted, a gifted person could hide the truth. “The Society has stonewalled us for days. Why are you telling us this now?”

  “Because I did not know whether to trust you. Now we have met, you have confirmed what I had not wanted to believe…the Society and my brothers and sisters are in grave danger.” Her direct gaze met Maggie’s. “And because I may be next on the killers’ list.”

  “Has anyone threatened you?”

  “No. But my removal is a logical step, and I sense their persistent rage.” The hesitation was only a fraction of a second, but Maggie knew the priestess was still holding back. Why? Still protecting her precious Society? She needed to make up her mind whether secrecy or survival was most important.

  “How badly do you want to stop this?” Josh’s question implied his own doubts. “Give us your membership list…or at least the names of the council members.”

  “How would that help, Detective Brandt? Would you have each of us submit to a lie detector test?”

  “Nothing so drastic. But we can check into alibis and past activities.”

  “We don’t want that either.” The priestess stood, indicating the discussion was over. “None of us want to be under a microscope. Our long-term safety and ability to lead the lives we wish depends on privacy.” She shook her head to stop his follow-up protest. “But I understand your position and will bring your request to the council—even recommend it. Perhaps another member you’ve already questioned will also speak on your behalf.”

  Maggie jumped in. “Are you referring to Stephanie Michaels?”

  Madame L smiled tightly. “No. But I can see my hasty words have started the wheels turning. Perhaps that was meant to be.”

  When Maggie and Josh left the shop a few minutes later, they carried Isabella LeMontaire’s authorization for them to explore the illegal transactions with her law and accounting firms. Maggie doubted she’d understand the mechanics of electronic transfers or what had gone wrong. On the other hand, Annie might. She’d be consulting her private black hat computer whiz by the end of the day.

  * * *

  As Maggie feared, the lawyers and accountants weren’t very helpful. Beyond verifying the fraudulent transfers to shell companies had taken place and explaining in general terms how funds were disbursed, the two firms were more intent on protecting their business practices than helping the PD solve crimes. All names had been carefully redacted from any documentation they provided.

  After already sitting through double-talk at the law firm, Maggie had even less patience with the two accountants. She shoved back her chair and crossed her arms. “Once you knew the thefts were happening, why didn’t you stop them? Surely you have some kind of safeguards you could put in place.”

  “We tried everything except suspending their business. Didn’t Madame L tell you? We’re not at fault for this.”

  Here we go again. She eyed the older of the two men. “How so?”

  “Starting two months ago, all written transfers had to be verbally approved by a known board member.”

  Josh raised a brow. “And the illegal transfers continued?”

  Both accountants nodded.

  “Who gave you the verbal authorizations?”

  “Everyone. But it’s no longer a problem with the authorizations. Recent transfers were switched after the valid authorizations and destinations were entered.”

  “Allegedly valid,” the senior account said. “That hasn’t been confirmed.”

  “Yeah, it has,” the young man said. “We were hacked. Repeatedly.”

  “Now wait,” his co-worker interrupted. “It could be a software problem.”

  While he defended his company and his own reputation by arguing with his younger colleague over culpability, Maggie tuned out their dispute and whispered to Josh. “Are you ready to go?”

  “I thought you’d never ask. It will take a computer tech and a forensic accountant to unravel this.”

  “Jenson will never authorize expenditures for either of those. We can’t show a clear connection to our murder case. Besides, this requires someone who understands hackers—like Annie.”

  “She’ll love it. As a consult only,” he emphasized. “But I’m not sure the money angle is going to get us to the coven members inside the Society. I’d like to talk with Michaels again, pressure her for those council names. After what was done to her, I can’t believe she won’t eventually come around.”

  “If she doesn’t, can I hold a gun to her head this time? Dammit, Josh. Somebody’s got to break the silence.” She shoved away from the table, startling the accountants who broke off their dispute to stare at her. “Sorry, but we’re expected elsewhere. We’ll be in touch.”

  Josh and Maggie stopped at the Michaels’s home and were surprised when her husband answered the door. Police were patrolling the area at night and hired nursing staff stayed with her during the day.


  “I keep worrying about her,” Dennis Michaels admitted. “I check in several times a day, but I’m on my way to a mandatory meeting. Steph’s in the living room. She’s doing pretty good, but try not to upset her.” He showed them in, then left. The nurse excused herself, and the three of them sat down to talk.

  Stephanie Michaels was calmer today. Her physical injuries and general attitude had responded well to being home. She said the worst, most vivid memories were beginning to fade—a fact that clearly worked against Maggie and Josh’s request—and she refused to go against Madame L’s decision. “Not unless the rest of the council agree. I’ll ask them to give you the names of the board members but not the entire membership list. Don’t expect either to happen.”

  “Why not? What do they have to hide?” Josh asked.

  “Their ordinary lives. They’re going to point to this attack…” She held up her bandaged arms. “As an example of what can happen to witches who reveal their craft to the public. This is too close to burning witches at the stake. Public enlightenment hasn’t really come so far, has it? Madame L is the only one of us who lives openly as a practicing witch. So far she’s gotten away with it because people assume she’s simply a tourist attraction.”

  Maggie thought about her own situation, her own reason for hiding her abilities, but if it was a matter of stopping a killer… “She said we’d already interviewed another board member. Can you tell us who that is?”

  “Reveal a sister witch’s secret? Whether it’s one member or all eleven, I can’t do it. I will encourage her to identify herself.”

  “Yeah, as if that’s going to happen.”

  Michaels’s face shadowed. “I’m sorry. I wish I could help you.”

  “We understand.” Josh stood, urged Maggie to her feet, and steered her toward the door. “Best of luck on a speedy recovery. Thanks for your time.”

  The second they were outside, Maggie confronted him, her exasperation showing. “I don’t understand.”

  “Neither do I,” he admitted. “But we weren’t going to change her mind. She’s been through a lot. I thought we lost nothing by cutting her some slack.”

  Maggie’s irritation melted away. “You’re a good man, Brandt.”

  He gave her a lazy look. “Why thank you, partner. Keep that in mind the next time you’re tempted to yell at me.”

  She returned a grin. “Oh, that won’t stop me…”

  * * *

  Annie’s eyes gleamed with mischief over the rim of a frosty glass of iced tea. She’d met Josh and Maggie for a late lunch at a local deli and had listened with her mouth open to their visit with Madame L. “A real priestess. Wow. And now you want me to hack into the Witching Hour’s files at these two firms?”

  “Yes,” Maggie said.

  “No.” Josh shook his head at the two women. “Don’t you understand what consult only means? We can’t use anything obtained illegally.”

  “Madame L gave us permission,” Maggie said.

  “Not to hack her files.”

  “To pursue the illegal transfers,” Maggie continued despite his interruption. “We’re not after file content, just the mechanics of how it was done and if there’s evidence of past hacking. We won’t search for membership names.” She lifted a brow at him. “If you’re uncomfortable discussing this, call Harry or do something else for a while. Then you won’t have to worry about it.”

  “Want to bet?” He let out a long-suffering sigh. “I’ll stick. I need to be prepared for whatever trouble you two are getting us into. But wouldn’t their IT people already have figured this out?”

  “Obviously not,” Maggie said. “They don’t have anybody as good as Annie.” She didn’t bring up her friend’s history, including her rather dubious membership in a hacker organization during her teens. That was long before Annie became a legitimate freelance reporter in her early twenties, and before she and Maggie met. They didn’t talk about it often—Maggie’s badge being an obvious reason why not—but she knew Annie had never failed an attempted hack. Maggie suspected Josh wouldn’t find that achievement as reassuring as she did.

  “So tell me about the transfers,” Annie said, getting down to the details. “Where do they think the hacking was done? The transfers going out or the authorizations coming in?”

  “It began with the authorizations.” It took a while but with Josh’s reluctant help, Maggie related everything they’d heard from the accountants. “So what do you think? Can you help?”

  Annie sat back with a satisfied nod. “They’re leaving a trail. All I need to do is find it, and I see several avenues for Internet snooping. The original false authorizations, the illegal transfers, digging into the shell companies and accounts that received the funds, and identifying the black hat involved. This’ll be fun. I’ll call you as soon as I make any progress.” She flashed Josh a cocky smile. “Don’t worry. Nobody’s caught me yet.”

  “There’s always a first time.”

  Her smugness deepened. “Yeah, I suppose. But it won’t be some IT guy at a financial firm.”

  “I’m not worried about them. It’s this hacker. He or she isn’t your run-of-the-mill computer geek. And he’s working for a coven of witches who’ve shown no hesitation to kill.”

  Maggie straightened, suddenly concerned. “Oh Annie. I hadn’t thought about them backtracking to find you. This doesn’t sound good.”

  “Doubting me?” Annie frowned, thoughtful. “It adds spice to the challenge. But don’t worry. I’ll hide myself through so many proxies and spoofing programs I’ll be like a ghost.”

  “Promise me you won’t do anything really risky. It’s not worth it, Annie. Honestly, it’s not.”

  Annie made the promise, but Maggie worried she hadn’t taken it seriously enough. She reminded her friend of the attempt to turn Michaels into cinders, and Annie seemed subdued. Make that somewhat subdued. As long as Annie confined her digging to the financial records, she should be OK.

  At the end of lunch, Maggie remembered to ask about Duncan Brice. Annie hadn’t heard of him, but she agreed to check around. “I know one thing for sure. If he writes for Incredible Crimes, he’s a sleaze.” Annie wrinkled her nose with professional snobbery. “They’re ruthless in getting the dirt or making it up. Somebody’s sure to know this guy.”

  But when Annie called Maggie at home that night, the news on Brice was a bust.

  “I can’t find a thing. I even called Incredible Crimes’ corporate headquarters, and they denied knowing him.”

  “Could it be a pen name?”

  “I asked about that. Either the tabloid was lying to protect some investigation he’s doing, or Brice isn’t who he says he is.”

  “Or both are lying,” Maggie said. “There’s something squirmy about that guy. If you get a chance, dig deeper. I’ll run his description through police channels, listing his name as a possible alias. Did you have any luck with the Witching Hour financials?”

  “Oh, yeah. Got right in.” Annie sounded pleased with herself. “I can see the illegal transfers, and I know how he did it. But I’m trying to find out where he is.”

  “Annie, you said you’d be careful.”

  “I am. Don’t you want this guy? He’s good. I’ll get there, but it’ll take more time. If he tries again while I have the tracker program running, he’s mine.” Annie paused. “Um, I had to view a few financial records before I could identify the bogus transfers. I know you said you weren’t going to look at the documents for names, but there were two…”

  “I can’t help it if you happen to blurt—”

  “Stephanie Michaels and Fiona Gordon.”

  “What? Michaels I expected, but Gordon…” Maggie popped to her feet and paced toward the kitchen. “Why were their names in the documents?”

  “As the Society board members who authorized those particular transfers.”

  Two minutes later, Maggie had Josh on the phone. “Fiona Gordon was the Council member LeMontaire referred to—the one we’d alread
y interviewed. I’d love to say Gordon lied to us, but she didn’t even pretend to be cooperative.”

  “And you learned this how?” He sighed. “Never mind. Shall we confront her?”

  Maggie hesitated. “Eventually. She’s kept secrets from the beginning, but we have nothing to prove she’s on the wrong side of a board vote. We need more evidence to point us in the right direction. Something…against her, or Sutter, or someone else…such as Duncan Brice.”

  “The pushy reporter? Why him?”

  “He’s lying, for one thing.” She told him what Annie had found—or didn’t find. “He’s way too involved in our cases, and his excuse just evaporated. I’d sure love to hear what he has to say about it.”

  “We need to find him first. A priority for tomorrow.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Josh put out a BOLO for Duncan Brice early Wednesday morning, and he and Maggie followed up with numerous calls to local hotels and motels. Despite those efforts, Wednesday and Thursday went by without a single sighting. Sometimes police work required patience, not a commodity in large supply with the media and upper police brass screaming for answers.

  As anticipated, the search for the black-robed escapees garnered zero responses from the public. Unless one of the conspirators let a careless word slip, the tip lines—already ringing off the hook with crazies, wild theories, and honest citizens who thought they’d seen something—wouldn’t yield anything until they had better descriptions.

  Maggie, Josh, and the other task force members checked on the activities of Fiona Gordon and Marvin Sutter as often as possible given their already busy schedules, while tearing apart the suspects’ backgrounds. Surprisingly, Gordon’s was rather ordinary—middle class upbringing, public school, mid-level supervisor at a local department store—and Sutter’s was sparse, at least prior to his marriage three years ago. He’d grown up in Wyoming, but his name didn’t surface on any pre-marriage public records as an adult—no arrest record, no property or utilities in his name. It was a rare search result, but not necessarily suspicious. There were living arrangements that left little or no paper trail.