Dewitched (Witchless In Seattle Mysteries Book 3) by Dakota Cassidy Page B

with Masters.”
    “Her ex-husband?”
    “Poor sap,” Belfry chimed in.
    “Yes. Well, it seems he may be the spirit from last night who warned us Dita wasn’t what she seemed. He revealed himself to me just this morning as your mother frantically entered incorrect passwords for Bart’s credit card accounts. Who uses muffinloveshisbunny as a password?”
    I snorted. “Did he have any other gems from the afterlife?”
    “Just the one, but I fear he’s simply striking out as a form of payback. While we obviously can’t dismiss his statement, we surely should be on the lookout for retaliation.”
    Leaning back in my Madam Zoltar chair, I sipped my cup of freshly made coffee. “Fair enough. I’ll make sure to keep my ducking skills brushed up. So let’s move on to the bigger mystery. Why the heck did Bart have the number for the Washington State Penn, and do we call the police and mention they missed a piece of possible evidence? Do we show that potential piece of evidence to Momster and see if it really was Bart’s?”
    Win scoffed. “Well, the first is obvious. His BFF’s probably in doing twenty for some scam or another. Grifters like Bart don’t make close friends often, but they do make contacts. Maybe he was trying to reach out to one of them?”
    I thought about that. Sure, if Bart had been doing this all his life, maybe he did have connections to others like him. “Maybe. But it’s not like we can call up the pokey and ask if a Bart has called recently.”
    “Point. But if we could get our hands on his phone records…”
    “Right. Because Officer Dana Do-The-Right-Thing Nelson’s going to just hand them over to me?”
    “Then consider that a dead end for now. Also, yes and no. You do tell the police about the money clip and phone number, because if Sardine Pickles finds a connection to the Penn and Bart’s death, you’re going to begin working that charm you’ve been brushing up on to find out what he knows. And I vote no on telling your mother. She has the eye of the tiger, and it has nothing to do with whether Bart was killed or not.”
    I felt such shame over my mother confessing her motives. “I have to give her credit for her honesty. She made no bones about why she’d married Bart.”
    “True enough. You know, there’s something I’ve been wondering. If your circle of witches is so small, why haven’t you ever heard of Bart and his unsavory reputation? He is a warlock, is he not? And why doesn’t he—or for that matter, your mother—just conjure up some money and a villa in Greece? One spell is all it would take.”
    Everyone thought that. Everyone thought we could have whatever we wanted with a flick of our wands. But not true. Not if you liked living as a free witch.
    “It’s pretty easy to slip under the radar in the witch world. Some choose to live with humans and others choose places like my old hometown, Paris, simply because we didn’t have to hide our magic there. We’re as scattered as humans are, so, while close-knit, we don’t all barbecue together. Second, we’re not allowed to use our magic for personal gain. Not that it doesn’t occur, and not that my mother hasn’t done it, and obviously Bart did, too. But something as big as a villa in Greece with no work history would make Baba Yaga and her council of goons sit up and take big notice.”
    “Have you ever used your magic for personal gain?”
    I chuckled and batted my eyelashes. “I don’t magic and tell. So moving right along—the business card from Petula with Bart’s name on the back?”
    “Now for that, we get out the old detective’s kit and investigate thoroughly. You definitely should ask Petula if she knew Bart, or maybe if someone working for her knew him.”
    Resting my chin in my hand, I wound a piece of hair around my finger. “You know, I’ve been thinking. Maybe considering all the debt Bart was in, he did take his own life. I’d hate that just as much as murder, but he owed everyone