Rags to Witches Page 3

  “I don’t understand. If you really won millions in the lottery, why gamble and risk losing it?” I never understood why lottery winners kept playing. I’d quit gambling and just be happy with my good fortune. I’m not very lucky though, so the odds of that happening were slim.

  “It’s an adrenaline rush.” Mom nodded towards Aunt Pearl. “She can’t help it.”

  I glanced at Wilt in the driver’s seat, who for once was focused on the road and not our conversation. “You’re a witch, for crying out loud. You can conjure up pretty much anything else with a spell.”

  “This Vegas-mobile isn’t magic, Cen. It’s a test drive from Shady Creek Motors.”

  “I doubt they expected you to take it on a seventeen-hour road trip.”

  Aunt Pearl shrugged. “They told me to keep it as long as I wanted. I’m feeling lucky and I want to go to Sin City.”

  “Gambling never pays off.”

  “Maybe not for you, Cen,” Aunt Pearl said. “Why are you such a negative Nelly?”

  “I’m just being practical about the—”

  Aunt Pearl rolled her eyes. “Okay, so we’re celebrating my lottery win, but that’s not the real reason we’re going.”

  “It’s a celebration of life,” Mom added.

  “Someone died? Who? We don’t know anyone in Vegas.”

  Aunt Pearl ignored my question. “We’ll go to the funeral, maybe take in a couple of shows and do some shopping. A girls’ night out.”

  “It will take us all night to get there. Vegas is eighteen hours away.”

  “Plans need to change sometimes,” Aunt Pearl said. “You’re so inflexible it’s ridiculous.”

  “But I already made plans. You can’t just change them without consulting me.” I was encased in a steel and fiberglass prison, hurtling down the highway with no way out.

  “Sorry, Cen, but you’re needed at the funeral.” Mom patted my hand. “This is one celebration you can’t afford to miss.”

  Chapter 4

  I had a pounding headache from the gas and alcohol fumes that still wafted up from my dress. While the dress had dried, the smell had somehow grown more concentrated. It seemed to permeate every nook and cranny of the RV with each passing mile. Probably because Aunt Pearl refused to turn on the A/C and had cranked up the heat instead.

  I wiped sweat from my forehead as I tried to make sense of the mystery funeral and the strange turn of events. “Who died and what have I got to do with it?”

  “We’ll explain everything sooner or later. But right now we’ve got a job to do.” Mom studied me with soulful eyes. “We need your help, Cen. Remember Mrs. Racatelli?”

  “The Mafia wife?”

  “Don’t call her that. Carla had a life of her own. Besides, there’s no proof linking Tommy to the mob. He just traveled a lot and kept odd hours.”

  “C’mon, Mom. He went to jail for racketeering. What sort of proof do you need?” Tommy “Twinkle Toes” Racatelli also fraternized with many of the big Mafioso guys. “Wait a minute—didn’t Carla Racatelli move to Las Vegas?” I barely knew Carla, but I had attended high school with her grandson, Rocco. Both Carla and Rocco had left town rather suddenly after Tommy’s death, without explanation.

  Mom nodded and wiped a tear from her eye. “She died a couple of days ago, and we’ve been summoned.”

  “Summoned by whom?” Few people held the kind of power to summon the West family. Not even mobsters. The West family was descended from an unbroken lineage of powerful witches. In the supernatural world, we held a certain status. Except for me, of course. While the West name accorded me some respect, my witchy abilities were poor at best. I was a failure in all things involving witchcraft and the supernatural. Special talents brought all sorts of unpredictable things, and I craved a normal life; the kind of carefree existence everyone else seemed to have but me.

  Aunt Pearl was another story. Her powers were legendary, and she answered to no one. She was anything but normal, even in the witch world. Few could summon her, and still fewer won her cooperation and respect.

  “Carla called for us.” Aunt Pearl faced the road ahead so I couldn’t read her expression. It was very unlike her to cry, but I thought I heard her sniffle.

  “But she’s dead now. I don’t see how—”

  “There’s a lot you don’t see, Cendrine,” Aunt Pearl snapped. “Stop being argumentative.”

  “But I can’t just drop everything and go,” I protested.

  “You have no choice in the matter. We all must go.”

  “But if Mrs. Racatelli is already dead, isn’t it already too late?” Carla Racatelli had been Aunt Pearl’s best friend, right up until her abrupt departure from Westwick Corners. Aunt Pearl hadn’t said a word about her since, yet now she was all teary-eyed and hell-bent on attending Carla’s funeral. It was strange, to say the least.

  “It’s never too late to right a wrong. We must wipe out the Racatelli curse.” Mom pulled a tissue from her purse and wiped a tear from her eye. “There are things you don’t understand, Cen.”

  “Try me.” I was increasingly frustrated and skeptical that I was getting the truth. I was well aware of the generational gap, but I was twenty-four years old, adult enough to deserve more of an explanation. Curses got way too much credit. That wouldn’t go over well in my witch family, but I sincerely believed that there were logical reasons why things went wrong.

  Mom shook her head. “Not now, Cen. You’ll find out soon enough.”

  “You’re worse than Aunt Pearl. If I’m being kidnapped, I deserve to know why.”

  “We’re going to Carla’s funeral and attending to some other business at the same time. That’s all I can say right now. We’re operating on a need to know basis.” Mom glanced at Aunt Pearl in the front passenger seat as she lowered her voice. “I’ll tell you more when the time is right. There will be some very interesting people at the funeral.”

  “If that’s supposed to pique my interest, it’s not working.” I resented Mom’s patronizing tone. I also resented her taking Aunt Pearl’s side.

  “There will be mobsters, Cen. Tough guys who are no match for magic.” She smiled.

  “Getting mixed up with criminals is a really bad idea, Mom. I’m surprised you’re going along with Aunt Pearl.” Mom was ultra-cautious and not one to flaunt her powers.

  “We’re doing a good deed. Somebody needs our help.”

  “I don’t see why I’m needed. You know I couldn’t cast a spell if my life depended on it.” Aunt Pearl had convinced do-gooder Mom that her supernatural talents were needed, but I couldn’t see where I fit in.

  I had no urge to save the world, and couldn’t even if I tried. I was a witch in name only. I only knew a few spells; nothing of any use against a curse. My only talent was keeping tabs on Aunt Pearl and bailing her out of trouble.

  “This will be a good lesson for you. Think of it as fieldwork.”

  “I’m not ready for that yet. Mixing with mobsters sounds kind of dangerous.” I had vowed never to return to Pearl’s Charm School to resume my lessons. I just hadn’t gotten the nerve to tell my family yet. As far as they knew, I was just taking a semester off from Pearl’s Pearls of Wisdom.

  Mom gave me a knowing smile but otherwise ignored me.

  I sighed. “Aunt Pearl has brainwashed you, can’t you see it?” I wasn’t getting through to her at all. “Besides, I already have plans tonight.”

  Aunt Pearl turned around in her seat. “Let’s get our priorities straight, missy. We’ve got to get to Rocco before his enemies do.”

  “Rocco?” I had almost forgotten about Carla Racatelli’s grandson, who at my age was old enough to join the Racatelli family business. It was common knowledge that their import-export business was a front for their shady business activities.

  “Yes, Rocco.” Mom patted my hand. “He desperately needs our help.”

  “No.” My date with Tyler looked less likely by the minute, and now I’d have to lie to him. I couldn’t admit I
was a witch on assignment, and I certainly couldn’t tell him that I was helping out a mobster. Anger welled up inside of me.

  “Now Cen—” Mom started to speak.

  “You sure don’t need me along.”

  “Of course I do,” Aunt Pearl said. “You’re my muscle.”

  “But I only weigh a few pounds more than you.” Aunt Pearl was ninety pounds dripping wet, but I had a few inches on her, so we were pretty much the same build.

  Aunt Pearl snorted. “Take a good look at yourself. You’re at least twenty pounds heavier than me, maybe more.”

  “That doesn’t make me bodyguard material.” I was an occasional gym rat and reasonably fit, but I posed zero threat to mafia wise guys. I swore under my breath. “This is getting more ridiculous by the minute. I demand that you pull over and let me out.”

  “No can do.” Aunt Pearl smirked. “Can’t you think about anyone else but yourself for a change?”

  “Mom?” Mom could usually talk sense into Aunt Pearl, but she was brainwashed. The funeral had been the trump card.

  Mom averted her eyes. Her big sister had either coerced her, put a spell on her, or both. Whatever it was, Mom was fully committed.

  I turned to Mom. “You’re sure we have no guests arriving?” Business wasn’t exactly booming, but we always had at least one or two rooms booked on weekends. We couldn’t afford to pass up any income.

  “That’s the best part, Cen. We’ll spend a couple of days in Vegas and be back by Friday in time for our guest arrivals.” Mom smiled and leaned back in her swivel chair. “Just kick back and enjoy the ride.”

  Mom was perpetually over-anxious, but at the moment she seemed so relaxed that I suspected she was on drugs, or worse. I turned to Aunt Pearl. “You put a spell on her. Take it off.”

  “Relax, Cen. Ruby’s overworked and it’s high time she had a vacation, and Vegas is the perfect place. What’s so bad about helping her relax? Take a chill pill.”

  “No.” I gritted my teeth, determined not to give in.

  I was met with silence.

  “At least let me use your phone to call The Shady Creek Tattler and explain. I can’t just blow off a job interview.”

  “You don’t have to. I already called and canceled for you.” Aunt Pearl grinned.

  “You what?” My face flushed inside the sweltering RV.

  “I did you a favor. Face it, Cen. You’re not the greatest journalist around.”

  Aunt Pearl’s words stung. She was probably right though. Worst of all, I couldn’t use her phone to call Tyler or she’d find out about our secret relationship.

  “For the last time, you’re coming with us.” Aunt Pearl pulled the crumpled ticket from her pocket and waved it in front of me. “My winning ticket is the reason we’re able to pay our respects to poor Carla. No magic involved. I won the money fair and square in the state lottery. We’ll make a nice vacation out of it.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Shouldn’t you have cashed the ticket first?”

  My aunt dismissed me with a wave of her hand. “Plenty of time for that later. I’ll redeem it when we get back home.”

  I met Wilt’s gaze in the rear view mirror. Even he looked doubtful.

  I turned around in my seat. For the first time I took a good look at the RV interior. It was tastefully decorated and brand new. It had to be worth over a hundred thousand dollars, but I was certain Aunt Pearl’s lottery story was a lie. I reached over and tapped her on the shoulder. “What if you made a mistake checking the numbers?”

  Silence. Aunt Pearl’s selective hearing again.

  “Did you kidnap Wilt too? What about his job at the gas station?”

  “He works for me now.” Aunt Pearl turned around and stared out the window.

  “Wilt, pull over and let me out.” I hadn’t practiced my witchcraft enough to master a teleportation spell, but I could always hitchhike. “I’ll catch a ride back to town.”

  That got Mom’s attention, even with Aunt Pearl’s spell. “I told you before, you’ll do no such thing. Now Pearl, you said Cen had agreed to come.”

  Aunt Pearl threw her hands in the air, almost knocking Wilt’s hand off the steering wheel. “For the last time, we are not pulling over, and you are not hitchhiking. We’re all going to Vegas to attend Carla Racatelli’s celebration of life.” Aunt Pearl paused and hastily added, “Once we pay our respects, I’ll consider your request.”

  The next few minutes were a blur as the RV left the asphalt and rolled onto the gravel shoulder.

  Chapter 5

  The hot asphalt seared my cheek as I regained consciousness. All I saw was gray. My eyes gradually focused on concrete and I realized that I had landed inches away from the cement highway divider.

  I had been thrown clear of the RV.

  I remained still for a few seconds, stunned. Thankfully nothing was broken, just a lot of painful road rash. I rose to a sitting position, alarmed to find myself in the middle of a four-lane highway. A pickup truck roared by and narrowly missed me as I crawled to the roadside.

  “What happened?” The RV lay on its side, partially rolled into a ditch on the opposite side of the highway. It had somehow flipped over the median. The side that faced me was crumpled and dented like it had rolled multiple times.

  No one answered.

  “Mom? Aunt Pearl?” My heart pounded as I scanned the road for any sign of them or Wilt. I spotted Mom and Aunt Pearl crouched over an unconscious Wilt about fifty yards ahead of the RV. Relief flooded over me as I rose to a standing position. My whole body ached. I took stock of my bruises as I limped over to them.

  “This is just one disaster after another,” I muttered to myself. Then I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. At first, I thought the RV was moving, but it wasn’t. It was slowly turning transparent. Proof positive that the RV was more witchery conjured up by Aunt Pearl.

  Her lottery ticket had to be fake too. All I was sure about was Carla Racatelli’s funeral. I doubted even Aunt Pearl would lie about her best friend’s death. I just hoped we made it to the funeral in one piece.

  I was within a few feet, close enough to hear Mom and Aunt Pearl arguing.

  “Don’t be silly, it’s easy to fix,” Aunt Pearl said. “I just didn’t make the spell long enough.”

  “You shouldn’t be risking our lives like that, Pearl. Don’t do it again.”

  “Stop being such a killjoy and have some fun for a change.” Aunt Pearl’s eyes locked on mine. “Oh good, I was wondering where you went.”

  I opened my mouth to answer but Mom shook her head at me. “Help me with Wilt.”

  Mom shook Wilt’s shoulders and his eyes flickered open. “What happened? I don’t remember a thing.”

  “It’s all right. We hit a deer.”

  Wilt rubbed his eyes and rose to a sitting position. “I don’t remember that, or rolling the RV.”

  “You’re still groggy. It will come back to you,” Mom said.

  Wilt slowly stood and scanned the highway. “I don’t see the deer.”

  “He got away.” I hated covering for my family, but I felt bad for Wilt. “Let’s call someone to tow the RV. Then we can head back home.”

  Aunt Pearl muttered something in a low voice and the RV gradually solidified. The dents were gone. “Nope. We’re road worthy again.”

  Wilt did a double take. “But I thought—”

  “You’ve had a knock to the head and you’re not thinking clearly,” Mom said. “Or seeing straight.”

  “Ruby’s right,” Aunt Pearl said. “I’ll take over the driving for now.”

  “I am not getting in that thing,” I protested. “It’s not safe.” With Aunt Pearl at the helm, we were headed for trouble and there was no turning back.

  “You have to. Everything depends on you, Cen.”

  “Why me? That makes no sense.”

  “It makes perfect sense, Cen. You’re about to find your calling.” Aunt Pearl wrapped her arm around me and gave me a hug.

&nbs
p; It was the first hug I remembered from my tough-as-nails aunt in all of my twenty-four years. It should have felt good, but it held a whiff of desperation. Something was up, and I wasn’t sure I liked it.

  ******

  We arrived at the Hotel Babylon Las Vegas in the early morning, eighteen hours after leaving Westwick Corners. We had driven through the night, stopping only for gas. I was battered, bruised, and broken from the RV crash and Wilt and Aunt Pearl’s crazy driving.

  And my dress still reeked of gas.

  “Cen, just look at this place!” Mom pointed to the expansive marble columns that bordered the lobby and pointed skyward to a multi-story atrium. “This is the Racatelli hotel and casino.”

  “They own this hotel?” Their reversal of fortune was a far cry from the rented two-bedroom shack and failing scrap metal business they had abandoned in Westwick Corners years earlier.

  I had always suspected that the scrap business was a front for Tommy Racatelli’s underworld activities. The sudden wealth seemed to prove that the hotel was bought with ill-gotten gains. Unless, like Aunt Pearl, they had gotten an incredibly good stroke of luck.

  Whatever the case, Lady Luck had apparently run out. First for Tommy and now Carla. Rocco was probably next. I just hoped he wasn’t part of whatever secret mission we were on. He had always taunted me in school, and the more I remembered my annoying classmate, the less I wanted to see him again.

  I studied my surroundings while Mom and Aunt Pearl checked us in. The opulent hotel was modeled after a Roman villa, complete with a massive courtyard filled with fountains and hanging gardens. Each floor overlooked the courtyard lobby. Being Vegas, the courtyard wasn’t open-air. Thirty-two stories above the courtyard was a glass dome that refracted the sunlight outside. The scenery was meant to keep you inside, not outside.

  I shivered in the sterile, air-conditioned lobby as I shuffled past a few bleary-eyed gamblers.

  I still had no further details on why we were here. All I was clear on was that I was stuck in Vegas, at least temporarily. I was also hot, hungry and exhausted, and in desperate need of some shut eye. I planned to immediately call Tyler once we had checked in and apologize for standing him up. Then I’d get a few hours’ sleep and figure out how to get home, with or without Mom and Aunt Pearl.