Magic Steals Page 9

Everyone was talking at once. What happened, why, does she need to go to the hospital? I answered as fast as I could. She was attacked by black magic; she will be okay; no, the hospital isn’t needed, just bed rest and lots of love from her family; no, thank you, I wasn’t hungry . . . After the first twenty minutes, the storm of questions and excitement died down and Iluh got through to us.

“Thank you for saving my grandmother!”

The relief on her face was so obvious, I hated to shatter it. “It’s not over yet.”

Iluh’s face fell. “What do you mean?”

“I need to talk to you,” I told her.

A couple of minutes later Jim, Iluh, her mother Komang, and I sat in the wicker chairs on the back porch, away from the family’s buzz. Iluh and Komang looked alike: both pretty, graceful, and tall. Komang held a degree in chemical engineering. My mother and she had come to Atlanta as part of the same corporate expansion just after the Shift.

I faced Komang and spoke in English for Jim’s benefit. “This is Jim. He is . . .”

Oh gods what should I call him . . . If I introduced him as my boyfriend, it would get back to my mother.

“We work together,” Jim said.

Nice save.

“And we’re dating.”

Damn it!

Komang raised her eyebrows. “Congratulations!”

Argh! I almost slapped my face with my hand.

“Won’t it cause an issue at your workplace?” Iluh asked.

“It won’t.” Jim gave them a smile. “I’m the boss.”

I glared at him. What the hell are you so happy about? He grinned at me and patted my hand with his.

I turned to the two women. “Your mother was attacked by jenglots.”

Komang blinked at me. “A jenglot? How bizarre. She was always afraid of them. She saw one when she was a child. It wasn’t real, just something a taxidermist made out of some horsehair and a dead monkey, but it terrified her. She had nightmares about it for years.”

There was no such thing as coincidence when it came to magic. “Usually when a jenglot tribe appears, it begins with a Queen. She enchants a person and begins to feed. When the magic essence of the person is exhausted, he or she becomes a jenglot. The jenglot magic begins to poison the area. One by one the tribe grows. A typical tribe is about five to eight members. More than twenty, and the tribe becomes a swarm. We saw at least fifty jenglots around your mother.”

“Fifty?” Komang opened her eyes wide.

“Yes,” Jim said.

“A swarm of this size would have to steal a person every week,” I said. “There is no way fifty people vanished in Eyang Ida’s neighborhood and nobody noticed. Not only that, but because jenglot magic is so toxic, it poisons the area around their nest. It is difficult to purge. The purification in Eyang Ida’s house took very little effort.”

“What are you trying to say?” Iluh asked.

“Someone summoned the jenglot swarm. I think someone deliberately targeted your grandmother.”

The two women looked at each other.

“But why?” Komang asked.

“Eyang Ida has no enemies,” Iluh said.

“No personal grudges?” I asked. “No irate neighbors? Nobody jealous or mad at her? Any frenemies?”

Komang glanced at Iluh. “Frenemy?”

“A fake person who pretends to be nice but secretly hates you,” Iluh said. “I don’t think so.”

Komang shook her head. “No, she would’ve told me.”

“It doesn’t have to be someone with a grudge.” Jim leaned back in his chair. “Most homicides are committed for three reasons: sex, revenge, or profit.”

“We can rule out sex,” Komang said. “My mother was happily married for over fifty years. My father died two years ago and she isn’t looking for romance.”

“Revenge is probably not a factor either,” I said. “Your mother was universally loved and respected.”

“That leaves us with profit,” Jim said.

“She had a life insurance policy,” Iluh said.

Komang drew herself back. “Are you suggesting . . .”

Uh-oh. “It’s not connected to the life insurance,” I said quickly. “You need a body for the life insurance, and if everything had gone as planned, Eyang Ida would’ve become a jenglot. She would be declared missing and the family would have to wait years before she would be officially listed as deceased.”

“What other things of value did she have?” Jim asked.

“Well, there is the house,” Komang said. “You’ve seen it. It’s not something I would expect anyone to kill her over. People don’t murder each other for thirty-year-old three bedroom, two baths. Her car is safe and runs well, but it’s not expensive.”

“Any artifacts?” I asked. “Cultural items? Sometimes people don’t realize they own things that hold valuable magic.”

Komang sighed. “She collects My Little Pony toys.”

Iluh nodded. “You should’ve gone to the bedroom. She has shelves of those. She thinks they are pretty. She sculpts them out of modeling clay and paints them.”

That’s something I would’ve never guessed.

Iluh bit her lip.

Jim focused on her. “You thought of something.”

She exhaled. “It’s probably nothing. Eyang Ida owns part of the building where her salon is located. A few months ago a law firm contacted her asking if she would sell it.”

“I remember that,” Komang said. “We’ve looked over the proposal. She owned that place for years, so she turned them down.”

Jim turned alert, like a shark sensing a drop of blood in the water. “Did they say on whose behalf?”

“No.” Komang frowned. “I think the client remained anonymous.”

“Do you remember which law firm?” I asked.

“Abbot and something,” Komang said.

“Abbot, Sadlowski, and Shirley!” Iluh said, her face lighting up. “I remember because if you put all the capitals together you get—”

I giggled. Iluh giggled back.

Komang gave Iluh a disappointed mother look.

“They should’ve rearranged their names,” Iluh said.

“It’s a place to start,” Jim said.

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