Last Witch Standing

chapter 13



“ People do not die for us immediately, but remain bathed in a sort of aura of life which bears no relation to true immortality but through which they continue to occupy our thoughts in the same way as when they were alive. It is as though they were traveling abroad.”

Marcel Proust



The Present

Earth



This was as good as it was going to get. Candice sighed and let the illusion slip. Electricity pulsed in the air and a slight smell of burning, as of an overheated electrical device, permeated the room. Though she could conjure the scene at will, portions were translucent and looked more like a hologram than real life. Still, Queen Annalisse’s magic surpassed any technology available on Earth and Dan Edwards would have a difficult time dismissing it – and her. At least, Candice hoped he would, knowing she would probably only have one shot at this.

Her dark blue pants suit was laid out on the motel room bed. Earlier that day, she had her hair cut, no hair over the ears. She had to pass as a law enforcement officer – which she had once been. Body language and self-confidence were more important than props and she practiced her walk in front of the mirror over the room’s dresser. Her fake ID was good, but it would not pass muster if checked by an actual police officer. There was no backstopping of the credentials: she would show up in no Agency databases as a U.S. Marshal – the identity she was assuming. Unlike the F.B.I., most civilians weren’t terribly familiar with that agency and she was counting upon this ignorance.

Candice faced the mirror and rehearsed her speech, hoping it would get her through the gate at the NOAA station where Dan Edwards worked.

The biggest weakness in her cover was not being able to call ahead. An advance appointment with Mr. Edwards would give him time to check on her legitimacy. No, that would be too risky. She would call from her cell moments before arriving.

The streets were not crowded – most schools wouldn’t get out for another forty-five minutes and the day’s worker commute wouldn’t begin for hours so she made good time. When Candice reached the River City Café, she pulled into the parking lot. This would be a good place to make the call.

She took the cellphone from its case at her waist and dialed the number.

“National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, Melfield Fishery. Dan Edwards speaking.”

“Mr. Edwards? This is Delores McNabb of the U.S. Marshals service.”

“How may I help you, Mrs. McNabb?”

“Mr. Edwards, we are working on a fugitive case and believe you may be able to provide some useful background information on river flows in the area.”

“Well, the Army Corps of Engineers would be the best place to go for that. Would you like their number?”

“No, thanks. I have it. Actually, there is some confidentiality involved here. I need to speak to you personally.”

“Okay.”

Candice noticed the puzzlement in his voice. She would have to hurry this, keep him off balance, give him no time to analyze the situation – or check on her story.

“I’m about five minutes out from your station. Could you give me a few minutes in person?”

The line was silent for a second. “Sure. I’m in my office. Security will require credentials for you to enter.”

“Understood. I would expect no different. I’ll see you in a few.” She ended the conversation and pulled out onto the street, going as far above the speed limit as she dared without drawing attention – or a traffic cop.

Nobody was at the gate so she had to buzz for help. A voice came on and she stated her business. Several agonizing minutes later, a security guard exited one of the main buildings and headed for the shack. He barely glanced at Candice’s credentials before pressing the button to open the gate and motioning to a side lot to park.

She looked right and left, up and down, upon exiting the vehicle. If her visit raised suspicions, she would definitely be trapped her – or at least her van would. Despite the early summer heat, she carried her jacket. Should fleeing be required, she could toss it over the barbed wire for protection as she climbed the back fence to escape. Unlikely she would make it – though designed to keep vandals and thieves out, the perimeter security would also work to keep someone in, should the gate be locked.

Framed plaques and photos lined the hall towards Dan Edward’s office. The floor tile looked freshly mopped, but worn, the walls lined with faux wood covering in places, painted concrete in others. Not so different than the many government installations Candice had encountered during the course of her law enforcement career as well as during a brief stint in the U.S. Army.

She paused at coming to the sign over an office door indicating this was Dan Edward’s office. From the corner of her eye, she could see into the office. Filing cabinets, charts and the front of a desk were visible. Candice breathed in deeply, corrected her posture and entered.

“Thank you for seeing me.” She displayed her credentials for him to examine.

“No problem. I don’t know what the U.S. Marshals service would want with me, though.” Dan took his seat behind his desk and looked up at her.

Candice closed the office behind her and allowed the disguise to fall. “I’m not from the U.S. Marshals Service.”

“What? What just happened?” Dan rose from his seat.

“Let me show you.”

“Who are you? Wait, I remember you. You’re the detective who disappeared last year.”

“Yes. I am Candice Strong.” She took her seat. “And I have something very important to say to you.”