Page 5 of Shadow Seeking

I set the digital recorder and tested it to make sure the volume was at the right level. “Okay, we’re ready.”

Dante leaned forward, his muscles glistening under that mesh shirt. “Why don’t you start at the beginning? How long was your sister with Windchime Magical Academy?”

Angela pulled out a notebook and opened it. “I jotted down some information in case you asked,” she said, thumbing through the pages. “My sister started at Windchime as a teacher in 1992. She taught a class on how to make potions for several years, then moved into teaching a class on elemental earth magic, which she taught from 1995 till 2007. After that, she was taught Demonology until 2012. After that, she was promoted to the office of Vice Principal and in 2021, she was promoted to the position of principal. So, all in all, she worked there around thirty-two years.”

I noted down Letty’s specialties. “She was versed in several aspects of magic, it sounds like. Was she married?”

Angela shook her head. “No, neither Letty or I ever met anyone we considered marrying. She dated in her younger days, but Letty was focused on her career. She was a workaholic and committed to the academy. Her whole focus was on helping young witches find their paths in life. Letty might never havehad any children of her own, but she counted her students as just that—her kids that she tried to help steer onto the right path in life.”

“Tell us what happened,” Dante said.

“Well, a few days ago, I got a call from her in the morning. She had arrived at work, and she was concerned because she said she received a disturbing phone call the night before. I asked her what it was, and she said she’d tell me later when we met for dinner. That’s one reason why I don’t believe she killed herself. We were going to meet for our weekly dinner.”

“Do you know if she had received any other calls that were worrisome? In the past few months, perhaps?” I asked.

Angela sighed. “I’m not sure about calls, but my sister had the feeling that something was wrong at the school, and she decided to investigate it on her own. I don’t think anybody knew what she was doing, but maybe somebody found out. I’m not sure if this call had anything to do with that. Anyway, about ninety minutes after we talked, the police showed up at my shop and told me that Letty had thrown herself through the window on the fourth floor of the clocktower in the central square, and she was dead.”

I shook my head. “Most people who commit suicide don’t go through a window—they open it first. And even then, jumping out a window is a rare form of suicide.”

“Autodefenestration,” Dante said.

“What?”

“That’s the technical term for throwing yourself out a window,” he said.

“Your vocabulary never ceases to amaze me.” I turned to Angela. “I’m so sorry about your sister. Did she show any signs of being suicidal, that you know of?

“My sister was a happy person. She loved her work, and she had a good life. And if Letty decided to kill herself, she’d pick aneasier, more comfortable route. My sister was a stern teacher, but she didn’t like pain. She liked her comfort, and she was a huge advocate for self-care. No, I believe my sister was killed.” Angela leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table.

“What did the police tell you about their investigation?” I asked.

“They said that there was nothing to point to murder. They searched her office, and said there were no signs that anybody was with her. The door was locked from the inside.” Even though she was trying to be strong, Angela teared up and she sniffled.

I handed her a box of tissues. “I know this is hard.”

Angela wiped her eyes, then sat back in her chair. She was a stately woman, with long gray hair and wrinkles that could only be built up through a long and interesting life. I felt a kinship with her, though I wasn’t sure why.

“I miss her. Letty and I were close. We had an older brother but he died about five years ago. He didn’t take care of himself and he died of a heart attack. He was a pain in the ass, but we did love him.” She sighed. “Now, I’m the only one left in our immediate family. Our parents both died many years ago. Witches live longer than humans, you know, like most of the Supe Community. But even we are mortal.”

I nodded. Her shoulders were slumped forward and she looked defeated. “Again, I’m sorry. So, can you tell me what she was worried about? You said she thought something was wrong at the school.”

Dante stood. “Let’s take a break before you answer that. I need more coffee. Angela, would you like another pastry? More coffee?”

She stared at her cup, then said, “Sure. Coffee, and a cinnamon donut if you have one. If not, then any flavor’s good.”

“I’ll be back in a moment,” he said, then headed out of the room.

I paused the recorder, and finished my latte, giving Angela a chance to breathe.

The conference room had a window that overlooked the alley. I stood, stretched, and walked over to peek out. A garbage truck was making its way down the alley, picking up dumpsters and emptying them. As I leaned against the wall, Angela joined me and we watched the garbage men following along to pick up the smaller bins.

“Rain’s on the way,” I said, staring at the sky.

“I don’t mind,” Angela said. “It matches my mood.”

November skies were almost always gray—Seattle was known for its gloomy weather nine months out of the year. That was one thing I loved about the area. The foliage was thick and green, even while the clouds were overcast. What sun we had was interspersed through the days, a little here, a little there. I didn’t like hot weather, or days that were too bright, so the perpetual twilight of autumn and winter agreed with me. Now, the clouds had socked in—thick and gray—and the air hung heavy with moisture.

Angela paused, then said, “I don’t know how old you are, but when you get to be my age you learn that the hard knocks are going to come faster and more frequently.”

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