Wiccan Detective by Anne Atria

Author:Anne Atria
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: paranormal, wiccan, women sleuths, mystery suspense, detective genre, familial relationships
Publisher: Anne Atria

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Chapter 17

Violet examined her work. The hole she made in the pocket of her voluminous wool coat would do nicely.

After she gathered her things, she headed for the subway.

She arrived within fifteen minutes and made her way to the platform. “Freezing my ass off here. It’s Tuesday afternoon, the sun’s out and it’s still cold as hell,” Vi said to no one in particular.

A hunchbacked elderly woman spoke through her scarf. “And not winter even. Oi!” She pulled the black, weather-beaten babushka tighter around her face and shoulders.

“When’s our ride coming?” she asked of the woman.

“Soon, I hope.”

Several minutes later the rhythmic clacking and rumbling of the train’s cars ceased with the all too familiar metallic braking screech.

“Finally!” Violet said.

Doors opened. Passengers barreled on out.

Violet assisted the woman onboard, then skipped on and seated herself next to a window.

She stared out of the rained-stained window. The trip took them first on the street surface, then deep underground. Her view changed from buildings to subway support beams and walls.

Fifteen minutes later she arrived at her destination. Rose Park.

A cold wind slapped Violet’s face when she reached the street level. No frigging warmer this side of town.

Violet wrapped her scarf around her face, pulled her hat down as far as possible and strolled to Rose Park. Hope the cold day don’t ruin my plans.

She strolled around the park and thought about Poor Jimmy. So sick. And in need of a transplant. A week in the hospital and no signs of recovery.

Poor AJ. So stupid. And in need of what? A brain transplant? What good what it do? Maybe a kick in the ass would do him good.

Jennie. That pharmacist. It had taken her some time to find out where she lived. But she’d found her. Online. While my poor, sick boy was asleep, or busy with the nurse. I punched in that pharmacy number, on her ID. Right into that database.

Violet smirked. It had taken nothing to find the woman. And follow her. She seated herself on a bench. And today you hang out with a little girl. Niece, maybe? You pick her up from school. Together you walk that dog of hers and end up here. Violet shivered and hugged herself, tugging her coat tightly around her. Hopefully you’ll end up here today. Please end up here.

Violet rose from the bench and strode, stamping her feet to warm them. She surveyed the patronage for Jennie’s arrival.

Lots of people out. Dogs make people go out in all sorts of weather. I guess it’s not that cold out once you get used to it, especially if you keep walking. Joggers. Kids. People on bikes. Old folks walking dogs. Dogs pulling people. Hmm. OK. I don’t look too out of place.

A few paces later Violet spotted Jennie and the little girl. She stopped and studied them. They were in an open area playing fetch with the dog.

The little girl flung the toy. “Here Snuggles!”

The dog flew after the Frisbee.

Violet sat down at a park bench semi-secluded from the two.

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