Debbie Viguié - Now You See Me

ABRACADABRA

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Now You See Me

Other Books by Debbie Vigui

The Kiss Trilogy

Kiss of Night

Kiss of Death

Kiss of Revenge

Sweet Seasons

The Summer of Cotton Candy

The Fall of Candy Corn

The Winter of Candy Canes

The Spring of Candy Apples

Witch Hunt

The Thirteenth Sacrifice

The Last Grave

Circle of Blood

Tex Ravemcroft Adventures (with Dr. Scott C. Vigui)

The Tears of Poseidon

The Brotherhood of Lies

The Lords of Atlantis

The Psalm 23 Mysteries

The Lord is My Shepherd

I Shall Not Want

Lie Down in Green Pastures

Beside Still Waters

Restoreth My Soul

In the Paths of Righteousness

For His Names Sake

Walk Through the Valley

The Shadow of Death

I Will Fear No Evil

Thou Art With Me

Thy Rod and Thy Staff

Comfort Me

Abracadabra

Now You See Me

By Debbie Vigui

Published by Big Pink Bow

Now You See Me

Copyright 2017 by Debbie Vigui

ISBN-13: 978-0990697169

Published by Big Pink Bow

www.bigpinkbow.com

Printed in the United States of America

2017901998

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Dedicated to Ann Liotta, ever the woman of mystery.

Opal Grant stared out the car window as her aunt, Tanya Sanders, kept up a never-ending monologue.

Dad was right, she never pauses to take a breath , Opal thought. That thought alone was enough to bring tears to her eyes. Don't think about Dad. Don't cry in front of Aunt Tanya. It was a losing battle, but she fought it as long as she could. So intent was she on trying to keep her tears from falling that she didn't notice when Tanya stopped talking.

I know it's rough, sweetie, Tanya said, patting her on the leg. I was just about your age when my dad died.

At least you still had your mom, Opal said and then regretted it.

I know that your mom would have been here for you if she could have.

Opal bit her lip, focusing on the physical pain helped her regain some semblance of control. Her mom, Aunt Tanya's sister, had vanished when Opal was five. Lots of parents left home but not like that. For three months the police had searched for her, even suggested that Opals dad had killed her. Ultimately her car was found thirty miles outside of Las Vegas, a five hour drive from home. It had been completely torched but they never found a body. If there had been a body to find.

Eventually the police gave up looking, officially classifying her mom as missing, presumed dead. Things had never quite gone back to normal, though, and she was sure the stress hadn't been good for her dad's heart. Twelve years later, on the anniversary of her mom's disappearance, it gave out. Some people never let it go. One of her mom's best friends had showed up at her dad's funeral the week before, stood up, and shouted, The bastard had it coming! She had been drunk but that was no excuse as far as Opal was concerned.

I thought you said we were only fifteen miles away? Opal said, desperately trying to change the subject. We've been driving for almost an hour.

Tanya smiled. Massachusetts is a bit different than California, and that goes for the roads. There's no real direct route, we have to wind our way from the airport to home, but we're almost there. That's Salem's oldest cemetery, on the corner, she said, pointing.

Opal shuddered. She'd had her fill of cemeteries.

So, do all the witches live in Salem? Opal tried to joke.

Tanya laughed. Most self-respecting witches wouldn't be caught dead here, no pun intended.

Oh.

You will find, however, a lot of people who can still put on a good show for the tourists, when necessary.

So, your house is the one you grew up in?

Yes, that's where Claire and I spent our childhood.

How come you still live there?

You mean, why didn't I move away like your mom?

Yeah, I guess.

Because, unlike your mom, I don't hate Salem. In fact, the older I get the more I appreciate it. It has a depth of history and culture you can't get in some parts of the country.

Tanya was an anthropologist. Opal still wasn't sure exactly what that meant. She just knew that her aunt didn't hack her way through jungles in search of treasure like Indiana Jones. They had gotten that straightened out the first time she came to visit them in California. Opal still felt vaguely disappointed by that.

Tanya had told her then that she solved mysteries about people who had died in the past. When she came out after Opals mom had disappeared Opal had begged her to solve the mystery of her mom. That conversation hadnt gone well for either of them.

Now, years later, they were stuck with each other.

They turned down a street lined with old houses. It seemed familiar to her though she had never been there before. There was a sense of time and age that you couldn't find in California. The brooding sky filled with rain clouds added to the feeling of mystery and decay.

Which one do you think is ours? Tanya asked.

Opal pointed without hesitation to a three story light grey house with dark grey trim.

Very good. What gave it away? Tanya asked.

Opal shrugged . It looks like a prison wasn't something she should say to her aunt.

They parked beside the house and grabbed Opal's bags out of the trunk of the car. Four large duffels, not much to show for a life she was being forced to leave behind. She took a deep breath and followed her aunt up the front steps and inside the house.

She had expected the inside to somehow match the austere gray of the outside. Instead the rooms were paneled in wood and filled with antique furniture. A plush red velvet couch took up a place of honor in front of the fireplace in the living room off to the right. To the left was the dining room with a mahogany table that could seat eight right in the middle of it. Straight ahead a staircase led to the upper floor.

She followed Tanya up the stairs. At the top they turned left along the landing and then left again down a hallway. The door at the far end was open and Opal followed her inside.

The room was smaller than her room back home had been, but not by much. An antique sleigh bed took up much of the space. It was covered in an old looking quilt with a flower pattern. There was a dresser with a mirror and a closet. The best part of the room, though, was a window seat with a view of the street.

Do you need help unpacking? Tanya asked.

No, Im good. Ill do it later, Opal said.

This was your moms room when we were kids, Tanya said wistfully, sitting down on the bed and running her fingers lightly across the quilt. Sometimes I come in here when I want to talk to her.

Tanya seemed lost in her own thoughts for a moment. Then she stood abruptly, looking uncomfortable. She smoothed out the quilt. Anyway, yeah, so-