Page 8 of The Trouble With Spells
“And? That’s about normal for most of us.”
“Kevin clocks about fifty,” Harry said quietly.
“Kevin is an idiot!” I snapped. “He graduated last in his class and failed the bar three times.”
“Be that as it may,” Charles flipped the folder closed with a snap of his wrist, “Kevin–and most of your colleagues–take time off. You have never taken any time off. We aim to remedy that. You are on leave–paid, of course–for the next two weeks. We will decide together at the end of those two weeks if, perhaps, another week is needed.”
At my stormy expression, Harry jumped back into the conversation, probably trying to do damage control between Charles and me. “We’ve had Maggie reassign your workload for the time being. We just feel, after yesterday, that you might need a bit of a break. A breather. Just some time to clear your head.”
“After yesterday,” I repeated, my lips pursed into a tight line. “So, I’m being punished for yesterday? Your Golden Boy doesn’t deliveroneday, and I’m out.”
“No one said anything about you being out,” Charles growled, leaning back in his chair. “Michael, we aren’t firing you. We’re trying to help you. The fact that you can’t see that is your ego getting in your own way. You’re quite frankly our best prosecutor. However, I–we–” his gaze fell to Harry, who nodded his agreement, “feel you might be on your way to burning out. And none of us want that to happen. You’re too brilliant for that. You’re taking a break, Michael, just the rest of this week, and next. More if you need it, but this is non-negotiable.”
Slumping back in the seat, feeling defeated, I asked, “What about the Marcone case? We expect the judge to sign off on the warrants any day now? The cops already shut down two of his factories. We’ve got two of his top guys locked up now. One of them is bound to turn on him.”
Francesco Marcone was becoming one of the top drug dealers in Boston. He was tied to a dozen other crimes, including prostitution, human trafficking, kidnapping, and murder. Unfortunately, no charges had stuck yet, and there had been no solid evidence linking him to anything.
However, I strongly believed where there was enough smoke there was bound to be a fire.
My office, along with various police task forces, including Derek, had been working for months to gather enough evidence to get the necessary warrants to bring him down. Or at least to allow us to search and find something that would lead us somewhere.
It was a huge case, which would likely end up with the Feds being called in, and it had been mine from the beginning. I had been the one to link his name to several drug crimes that had come across my desk. Derek had linked his name to some missing person cases, and when we had put all of our cases together, Francesco’s name had been smack in the middle of them all.
There was no way in hell I was sitting on the sidelines for this case.
Harry and Charles exchanged a look between them I couldn’t decipher.
“For the time being, we’ve assigned it to Shelby,” Harry held up a hand at the garbled sound I made, “just for the next two weeks, in case anything breaks on it while you’re gone. She is well aware it’s your case. It’s doubtful anything will happen in that time, anyway.”
“So, that’s it then?” I ran a hand through my hair in agitation. “I’m just supposed to do what for the next two weeks?”
“Enjoy yourself?” Charles said.
“Take a vacation?” Harry suggested, then added, “I had lunch with your dad yesterday. He mentioned he and Jessica haven’t seen you in quite a while. Not since Christmas, and you barely stayed for dinner. Maybe go visit your parents. They don’t live that far from the city.”
Sometimes I forgot Harry and my dad were old college buddies. No wonder my dad had called me yesterday. No doubt they had been gossiping about my unusual losses, which had continued well past their lunch.
Salem would be the last place on my theoretical list of vacation destination spots.
Unless…
Could all of this–all the bad luck–have been caused by my one-night stand? Had the guy actually put a curse on me?
I didn’t believe it, not for a minute, but…there was a part of me, deep down, that was wondering if whatever was happening in my life was possibly caused by something…supernatural.
Yep, it was official, I was losing my fucking mind.
Maybe I did need a vacation. Or a break.
Or someone to break a curse?
Well, Salem was a good place to find someone to do that. There was someone advertising that they were a witch practically on every corner. It was a great tourist attraction.
Was I honestly entertaining the idea of driving to Salem and finding a…what? A witch? A real one? Someone who could undo whatever that angry little twink had done to me?
I didn’t believe in witches, but I couldn’t deny that my life had been turned upside down and on its head ever since that guy had uttered his complete nonsense of a…spell? A curse? Complete drivel that I was letting fuck with my head?
Was I so cocky I was trying to blame something–anything–on the bad luck that had fallen over me the last couple of days, instead of admitting that I might possibly have been at fault for any of it?
