Read Something Wicked for Free Online

without my athame. Carrying a knife with a six-inch blade on the streets of Chicago is frowned upon.

    “We are friends,” said Al in that deep, radio-announcer voice of his. He slid into the booth, opposite me. “Which is why I need to clear his name.”

    “Ben’s name is clear.” Except for the fact that he shared his last name with his psycho-killer twin brother, anyway.

    “Not even close.” Al signaled Joe’s one night-shift waitress for some coffee, then continued. “Think about it. Vic’s an up-and-coming political consultant. He’s well-spoken, well-liked, and well-off. Ben, on the other hand, is a professional student. He’s a genius, don’t get me wrong, but people would rather believe an advanced degree, which he never completed. He’s a loner. He’s also what people call a ‘conspiracy nut.’ Which brother do you think John Q. Public will most suspect?”

    I wasn’t real sympathetic to the bias of John Q. Public. “But Ben has an alibi.”

    It felt weird, referring to a complete stranger by his first name. But it would have felt even weirder to use his full name.

    I’d already used that one three times too often, the night I cursed him. Them. Us.

    “True,” Al conceded, about the alibi. “But so does Victor.”

    I stared, a sick feeling knotting my stomach. “He does?”

    “Yeah, his girlfriend. She swears they spent the night together, that she didn’t say anything before because she was angry with him. She says once she realized how serious this was, with Vic being held without bail, she had to come forward.” He smiled. “Any comment?”

    Vomiting on the table between us would have been an excellent comment, but I wasn’t giving him the satisfaction. I picked up a spoon from the trio of cutlery before me and turned it in my fingers. It’s harder to fidget with one hand. Less natural. “No,” I said firmly, finally. “No comment. What about the fingerprints.”

    “You mean Victor’s finger print. Singular. That’s a good piece of evidence.” Al paused to thank the waitress for our coffee, then to add sugar to his. “It’s also the only evidence, except for your ID. And there’s evidence against Ben, too.”

    He took a sip and winced. “Good coffee.”

    My gut twisted. Ben Fisher wasn’t the killer. I’d seen both brothers together, in the lineup. I’d seen how Victor smiled.

    I couldn’t be wrong…could I?

    True, I would have cursed the right man. On the downside, he was wandering free this very night! And that couldn’t happen. Not if the world had any rightness left.

    Looking disappointed that I hadn’t taken my cue, Al kept talking. “I don’t know if you’re aware how much publicity your sister’s murder is getting.”

    I stared at him grimly. “Because that has nothing to do with why you’re talking to me?”

    “Yeah, well…Because it’s so high-profile, a lot of evidence is being collected from public tips. Supposedly Benny has been interviewing local magic users. You know, covens, occult shops, that sort of thing. Authorities figure that’s how he found your sister. Word is, he seemed particularly interested in tracing one magical tool more than any others.”

    I thought I knew what he was going to say. Still, I didn’t want to prompt him.

    “Chalices,” announced Al, and I was right. “Especially chalices used in goddess worship.”

    The Hekate Cup. I was sure Aunt Maria had mentioned its absence to cousin Ray by now. But its theft shouldn’t be public knowledge yet, not even to a nosy faux reporter like Al Barker.

    Could that really be why Diana had died? For a stupid goblet? Okay, yes. A sacred goddess goblet. But it was still a thing, like a rosary or a crucifix. Just a symbol.

    “Why would he be after those?” I asked, putting the spoon down. Cold weather or not, I didn’t want coffee.

    Al shrugged. “Ben says it wasn’t him, the assumption being that Victor used his name. But Ben’s made a living out of