Charlaine Harris - Day Shift

“She wouldn’t go about it the same as you,” he said. “I don’t think you know how powerful Fiji is. You don’t know what she can do.”

“And you do?”

He nodded.

Olivia felt piqued. “In what way?” she demanded.

“Olivia! You know she’s a witch.”

“Yeah, yeah. And?”

“Do you know how good a witch she really is?”

Olivia reconsidered the first answer that almost flew out of her mouth. Instead, she said, “I guess I can hardly be a big skeptic since I sleep with an energy-draining vampire.”

“Good point. Anyway, she might come up with a solution that we haven’t thought of.”

“We can’t cross the road until Lewis and his pet journalist are gone.”

Without a word, Manfred turned on the television and they watched the news, ignoring the sound of persistent knocking at the front door. Then at the back.

There was unrest in the Baltic, refugees were dying in Africa, and the stock market wasn’t doing well. Just another wonderful day on the news circuit. In a ludicrous attempt to make the future seem less grim, nutritionists had discovered that cheese curd was a miracle food.

Olivia said, “I’ve never even seen a cheese curd.”

“Me, either.”

That was the extent of their conversation until the knocking stopped and they heard a car drive away.

Manfred called Fiji right away. “We’re coming over, okay?” he said.

Olivia heard her say, “Sure. It’s so hot. Want some iced tea?”

Was that the guy?” Fiji asked as she opened her door. They’d passed an exiting customer as they’d come in, a smiling white-haired lady who’d wished them a good day. She’d been carrying a cloth shopping bag, and it looked heavy.

“She sure looked happy,” Manfred said, glancing after the old woman, who’d climbed into an aged Cadillac.

“Yes,” Fiji said. “She did.” She waited, looking pleasant.

“Yes, that was the amazing Lewis and a blogger who’s evidently a big name if you love the Internet. Oh, your spell worked great at the police station,” Manfred said.

“Good!” She turned to lead the way in. The shop area was less crowded; when some of Fiji’s display cases had been destroyed the previous year, she’d liked the look when the room had been cleaned up. When she’d gotten her insurance payment, she’d added more wall shelves and fewer freestanding cabinets. Now Fiji retrieved her office chair from behind the counter and rolled it out to the two upholstered chairs flanking a little wicker table. On the table was a tray with a pitcher of tea and a plate of cookies.

Olivia and Manfred both helped themselves, though Olivia looked as if she were thinking sarcastic thoughts.

“What did your visitors want?” Fiji asked.

Manfred said, “Here’s our problem.” He went on to explain (in what he felt were clear terms): the charges by Lewis, the consequences of Lewis’s harassment to the whole community, and (to Olivia’s anger) the attack she’d faced at the Goldthorpe house.

Fiji said, “Well, I feel like Don Corleone when the undertaker comes to see him about the rape of his daughter.”

Manfred began laughing, then stopped in midcackle. “You mean, we should have come to you first? That you could have taken care of it better than we have from the get-go?” Olivia was not laughing a bit.

Fiji smiled. “Hey, don’t push the analogy too far. I just meant it’s appealing to have someone ask me for help instead of treat me like an extra appendix.”

“I’ve seen what you can do,” Manfred said. “With great respect.”

Fiji nodded, her eyes on Olivia. After a moment, Olivia nodded in agreement. Fiji’s shoulders relaxed, and Manfred saw that he hadn’t read the situation right, at all. Fiji had been very anxious about what they’d come to her for, and his request had been a relief. He had to wonder what she’d thought he might say instead.

“So what you know is: No one stole the jewelry. It’s in the library in Rachel’s house. It’s inside something, maybe one of the books, but there are hundreds of books in the library. And also, Olivia’s enemies are hot on her trail, the people she came here to hide from.”

Olivia looked surprised for a second, and then she said, “Exactly. But I’m not completely sure which enemy has found me.”

“You’re rich in enemies.” Fiji made the comment with a complete lack of judgment.

“There are plenty of people who want to find me, for whatever reason.”

“You don’t want to talk about why.”

“No.”

She’s so damaged, Manfred thought. This image of Olivia was far more disturbing than her tough-woman exterior. It gave him the creeps. He took a bite of cookie. Oatmeal, with raisins and spice. He said, “These are great,” indistinctly.

Fiji smiled at him before shifting her attention back to Olivia. “Do you have any ideas about how I can help you?”

“Not specifically, no,” Olivia said. “But we need to get in the house to search. I went once in disguise, but Lewis might recognize me, no matter how well I disguise myself. Lewis is very suspicious. If I watch to make sure he leaves, I don’t think the maid would let me come in under any pretext, much less give me the time to rummage around in an upstairs room. There was a gardener, too, who seemed pretty interested in everything that went on. There’s no explanation or disguise that would give me the freedom to search.”

“And this hidden jewelry needs to be found by the police, and the hint as to where it is can’t come from Manfred.”

“Right,” Manfred said. “If it came from me, the big question would be ‘How?’ I can’t answer that in a way that would satisfy a policeman.”

“I guess I could freeze the maid when she answered the door,” Fiji said. “She’d stay that way for about seven minutes. Would that be enough time?”

Olivia’s mouth was hanging open.

“I’m afraid not,” Manfred said. “We probably need at least forty-five minutes, since we don’t have that much information.”

“Can you try another séance to see if you can learn something more specific?” Fiji asked.

“I can try, but I don’t have any guarantee that’ll be successful.”

“Frozen?” Olivia said.

“Not frozen cold, but frozen in the moment,” Fiji explained. “As in, she couldn’t move. On the other hand, she’d remember what had happened to her. That’s usually not good, unless the person really needs to be taught a lesson.”

Diederik came into the shop. They all looked at him, and then Manfred said, “Damn.” Diederik now looked perhaps thirteen.

“I bought those clothes yesterday,” Fiji said. “Yesterday. Or maybe the day before? But…”

“Damn,” said Manfred. Again.

“If you have any more?” Diederik said. The boy looked embarrassed.

“I do,” she said, looking only mildly pleased with herself. “Go look in the bag on my guest bed. Where you changed the last time.”

Diederik looked vastly relieved. As he passed Fiji, he bent to give her a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you,” he said. His voice was breaking.

“What the hell,” Olivia said, very quietly. “I hadn’t gotten past the ‘frozen’ yet. And now we have a teenager instead of a little boy. What the hell. ”

“I don’t know why he’s growing so fast,” Fiji said, quietly. She leaned forward. “The Rev isn’t saying anything. I don’t know if he expected this or not. Or maybe the dad left Diederik here because he knew what was going to happen?” She rolled her eyes. “Be that as it may, the last thing we need is anyone’s eyes on Midnight.”

The bell over the door chimed. One of the old men from the hotel came in, a wizened man who was God knows how far up in years. He carried a cane, he was slightly bent, and he had wispy white hair protruding at all angles from under his straw hat. Manfred had seen him on the sidewalk outside the hotel, walking very slowly. He recognized the hat and the hair.