Nice Day for a Mage Wedding: Casino Witch Mysteries 4 Read online

  Contents

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Back Cover

  Also By

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Author's Note

  Author's Bio

  Copyright

  To John

  I love you more than ever

  Acknowledgments

  First and foremost, thank you to my husband John, who kept me on task when emotions threated to send me off the rails.

  Thank you to Zara Keane, Lydia Rowan, Zoe York and Sadie Haller. Not only are you all great authors, but you’re an endless source of support and information.

  To Teresa Johnson, Holly Cooper, Lori Peterson, and Andrea Jane, thank you for the daily messages that keep me from being a total recluse.

  Last but not least, thank you to the people that make this book shine: development editor Jodi Henley, cover artist Rebecca Poole, and Red Adept Editing.

  Mage Bridal Party Etiquette

  __Plan the bachelorette party even if you are given two hours’ warning.

  __Wear whatever hideous dress the bride picks out.

  __Try not to get killed and ruin the wedding.

  Ella and Vanessa are having a pretty busy week between being forced to be in Vin and Tiffany’s wedding and investigating the murder of a local property manager for Bear, all while Ella tries to convince Monza Colleen that she would be a perfect apprentice. Ella is stronger than ever, but from a magical charm bracelet to collapsing ice sculptures to the bridezilla from hell, she has her hands full. Add on Patagonia’s panache for getting into trouble, and Ella might not survive.

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  Nikki Haverstock’s Amazon Author page with all her books

  https://www.amazon.com/Nikki-Haverstock/e/B014GIZH0Y

  Casino Witch Mysteries

  Of Murders and Mages

  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B074X8L6S9/

  Which Mage Moved the Cheese?

  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07BF7MCLC

  There’s No Business Like Mage Business

  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07FK18MZ8

  Target Practice Mysteries

  Death on the Range

  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B014GDO5C0

  Death at the Summit

  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B016CX2RZO/

  Death at the Trade Show

  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B017HWLGNS/

  Death Indoors

  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01C0NTKRI

  Death in the Casino

  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01EPE1KEQ

  Death from Abroad

  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B06XZ96GM2

  Reality TV Cozy Mysteries

  Lights, Camera, Murder

  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01GQRGDCY

  Crossover Murder

  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01N51U14G/

  CHAPTER ONE

  The quiet of the casino management offices at night was always a relief and my favorite time to work. Olivia was my flesh and blood, my only child, and someday would take over the Golden Pyramid Casino, but I found it difficult to dig into an issue when she popped in every twenty minutes to ask a question.

  Perhaps it was time for me to take a sabbatical and let her run the casino. She was more than ready, but as long as I was here, she questioned every decision she made.

  I stepped over to my window and looked at the Avenue far below. Taxis were streaming into the Golden Pyramid entrance at least twice as fast as those exiting. The gambling tables would be full, and I knew the shows were totally sold out. Many of the changes over the past decade were innovations that Olivia had suggested to me and we had brought to fruition together as a team.

  With deep satisfaction, I left the window to sit and get back to work. I looked at the picture on my desk of her, me, and her mother, God rest her soul. She would have been so proud of Olivia.

  All this worrying was just putting off the inevitable. I spread out the financial reports and looked them over again. I’d always had a way with numbers, and something had been bothering me for weeks, maybe months. There was an irregularity in the profit-loss statements, but I couldn’t put my finger on what.

  But that wasn’t the only issue. James Ramono had been dead for several years, but not a week passed that I didn’t think of him. I had heard he had a son back East, but I hadn’t been able to find him. James’s loft was left to some human girl, and though I had checked with her neighbors, both mages, they swore she didn’t know anything. She was the daughter of a long-term employee or something, and the loft was transferred to her at his death as repayment for a long-standing debt to her mother. Or at least that was what they said.

  All of those avenues were dead ends, but I refused to give up. James had been killed for a reason, and like the mysterious numbers, I couldn’t understand what was happening or why, but I knew something was off.

  I grabbed my mug and drank the cool and bitter coffee, getting some gritty grounds in my teeth. The coffee maker was old and probably needed to be replaced, but I was a man of habit and hated change.

  The numbers weren’t making any sense, or rather they made too much sense. Nothing stood out as questionable, but I knew something was wrong. I had had the sense of unease since Isadora’s son died of a Legacy overdose in the parking lot below.

  It wasn’t really a surprise to anyone. He had been on the skids for years, though I had thought he would get his life together before he reached that point. That was when I started pulling together all the information about Legacy.

  Then I remembered some private conversation James and I had before his murder. He was obsessed with Legacy and saw it as a part of a larger conspiracy. Not that he called it a conspiracy. That had been my assessment of his theory. He always thought there was a puppet master behind the scenes, and I had laughed him off at the time. But now…

  I used my channeling stone to unlock a compartment in my desk and pulled out a large leather file folder. On the front was a leather-tooled feather, the same design as what was stamped on the Legacy pills. It held all the information I had gathered, including the notes from my journal about the conversations James and I had shared.

  I gave a cough. My throat was suddenly sore, as were my gums. Probably too many late nights fueled by caffeine. I would flip through my notes then call it a night.

  I was pulling out a file with James’s name on it when the door opened, and a man entered
.

  “What are you—” I cut myself off when a splitting headache stopped me cold. A wave of sickness rolled over me, and I realized what I had thought were grounds in my coffee was probably the base of a poison potion. With my final breath, the clues came together. “You’re behind Legacy,” I accused the hazy figure.

  There was a low chuckle. “And much more.”

  I slid to the floor, unable to catch my breath. First there was panic and fear. I did not want to leave my daughter behind. But then there was peace, knowing that I would be reunited in the afterlife with the wife I loved.

  Then there was darkness.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The drive with Bear was a short one. He had received a call from one of his security clients that the manager at one of their properties was dead and they wanted him to look it over. It was a few miles from Golden Pyramid Casino, where we had been, but things looked dramatically different than the bright lights of the Avenue.

  The strip mall was nothing compared to the glitter of the casinos on the Avenue, but the parking lot was clean and brightly lit. The stores, with their large windows and attractive signs, would probably be popular when they were open. Most were closed now.

  Peeking out from behind the strip mall was a small apartment complex. Probably only a dozen tenants there or maybe more if the families contained were particularly prolific. Nothing about the location screamed potential murder site.

  Bear had caught me up on the situation as we sat in the car. The dead landlord had been responsible for the tenants of the retail stores and the small apartment complex located behind the building. The landlord was found dead in his office when the owner of the karate studio tried to drop off his rent between classes.

  I got out of the car, pulled my jacket around me, and fastened the large glass buttons on my coat, which were meant to look pretty rather than be functional though they would do in a pinch. I was glad I had thought to grab it from the coat check at the casino, as the evening had turned from a little chilly to freezing. Winter was coming.

  There were more stores than I had expected, at least a dozen, but I couldn’t see anything beyond the flower store next to office.

  A man stood guard at the door. He wasn’t particularly tall or bulky, but something in the way he stood told me that he was solid muscle. If someone took Bruce Lee and Chuck Norris and perfectly split the difference, it would make the man that stood in front of us. I was sure he could take on a horde of evil minions with one hand tied behind his back. As we approached the open office door, the man subtly shifted his weight, not blocking the door but making it clear that we needed to address him before entering.

  Bear slowed and faced the man. “Are you David Anno? I’m Lou Freeman of Freeman Security.” He offered his hand.

  The man shook Bear’s hand. At the moment of contact, I felt a quick pop of magic. Whatever spell the man had cast, his face smoothed a little as a small amount of tension around his eyes dropped. “Call me Dave. I run the martial arts studio. I need to return to my classes.”

  After Dave left, I asked Bear about the spell.

  “Not sure but I think it was just to check that I was who I said I was. He’s a cautious man.”

  “Oh, duh!” I had learned the spell but hadn’t used it. Every time I thought I was nailing my training, something would pop up to show me how far I had to go. “Not a real friendly guy. This place is a mess. Police? Federal Order?”

  Every single surface was covered with stuff: files, plants, empty mugs, plates of half-eaten food. There were mystery stains on the carpeting that looked like no one had even attempted to clean them up before they dried into crusty debris. The air was heavy with dust and an odor that turned my stomach.

  There were filing cabinets that must have been mostly empty given how many files were spread in piles on the desk and floor. The desk was overflowing. The only thing clear was the chair behind the desk.

  “Ned was very messy,” Bear said by way of explanation. “I had to come here every so often, and it always looked like some variation of this. I think the owner sent out a cleaning crew from time to time because sometimes the stains would move between visits. I guess he just didn’t care. The human police have ruled it death by natural causes. The Federal Order said they will assign an investigator, but we all know that is code for ‘Give us some money, or this case will get shuffled to the bottom of the pile and never seen again.’”

  Patagonia leaped up onto the desk, knocking a full mug of some sludgy liquid onto the floor.

  I jumped back but not before it hit my leather boots. Grabbing a semiclean napkin, I blotted the liquid off my foot before it could stain. “The police think it’s natural causes, but the Federal Order don’t? And you don’t?”

  “For the right bribe, the Federal Order doesn’t care. They think it was a robbery because of this.” He nudged an empty cash box on the ground with his foot. I had missed it with all the junk scattered about. “But that doesn’t really add up. I don’t think he kept much in there except rent, and that was mostly in checks. But I’m not sure what I think. That’s why I brought you. Why not just break in when he wasn’t here? If it was a random stranger, then why go to all the effort and risk to use magic to kill him?”

  His phone rang, and after looking at the screen, his eyebrows flew up. He answered the phone, but before speaking into it, he turned to me. “Why don’t you do your reading while I take this?”

  Patagonia came to my side and pressed into me as I closed my eyes.

  It came to me bright and clean, a fresh vision that immediately confirmed that magic had been responsible for Ned’s death. He was already sitting in his chair, the mess around him familiar. He was reading a wine catalog when he reached out to grab his mug and took a sip. He placed it back on the table, and I realized it was the same mug that Patagonia had spilled a moment earlier. He continued to read before suddenly he grabbed his chest. His face went red, and he thumped a fist to his chest, then he slumped forward on his desk, and the vision faded.

  I opened my eyes and swayed a little unsteadily. Something seemed off. The vision had been short, much shorter than any I had seen. Not only that but I hadn’t seen a single clue. I closed my eyes and watched it again. Now that I had seen the vision, it would always be in my head waiting. Reviewing it, I found nothing new.

  Something was off, but I wasn’t sure what. While I thought, I tipped the mug right side up. Inside were a few drops of the liquid, and maybe Bear could have it analyzed for the remnants of a spell.

  He slid back in the door, closing it behind him. “What did you find?”

  “Who called?”

  “You first.”

  I blew out a sigh. “I could pick up a vision, so his death was caused by magic. He was sitting in his chair, reading that wine magazine.” I pointed to a magazine on the floor. “He drank from this mug then grabbed his chest and died.”

  He waited for me to continue. “And?”

  “And what? That’s it.”

  “Did you sense any magic? What was the aura like? What did he feel? Come on, Ella. You know how this goes.”

  The pieces slid into place. “Hold on.” I closed my eyes to replay the vision, and it was obvious now that I knew what to look for. “I’m not getting any of that. No emotion. No magic. No aura. Maybe it’s not magic after all. Can I see visions if someone dies of natural causes?” My mind was spinning a mile a minute, trying to work out what this meant.

  He was slow to respond. “I don’t think that’s how it works. The magic is what imprints the death on a location, but maybe if there were strong magic… but you said you aren’t picking up any magic auras in the vision?”

  I shook my head. “Nothing. I’m not sure what that means.”

  “Me neither.” His phone beeped with a text message, and he checked it.

  “Who called?”

  He perked up. “Good news. Guess who just landed at the airport?”

  I thought of Thomas instantly, and my h
eart skipped a beat before my brain caught up. Thomas would never call Bear. In fact, I wasn’t sure if the two of them had ever met, and I had certainly never mentioned Bear or anyone connected to my training to Thomas.

  My heart was still thumping on adrenaline as I tried to think of who could possibly be flying in when I remembered who I had been waiting a year to meet. I bounced up and down while squealing. “Your great-great-aunt Colleen? Is she finally here?”

  “Yes, she just landed and will be meeting us at the Golden Pyramid Casino. She needs to greet the marshal and wants to say hello to a few other people, and since they are all at Vin and Tiffany’s pre-wedding party, she decided to meet us there.”

  “Let’s go!” I grabbed his arm and tried to drag him to the door. Colleen was a Monza and so far my only chance at getting answers to my questions.

  “Hold on. We aren’t done here. Is this the magazine he was reading?” He lifted it up off the table.

  “Yes, yes.” I thrust the mug into his hand. “And this is what he was drinking. I figured you would want to see if there was a potion mixed in there. Now let’s go!” I trotted for the door, tripping over Patagonia on the way.

  I couldn’t even get mad. Instead I scooped her into my arms and spun her around. She showed her emotions by biting my wrist when I slowed down enough for her to get her bearings. I had gotten quite used to her playful and not-so-playful bites and scratches. They always healed quickly without a scar, one of the benefits of her not being a real cat.

  What she really was was a mystery to me. She certainly looked like a cat and often acted like a cat, but there was no doubt that she was more, literally. She had grown since we were bonded together. I had been suspicious for a while, but since she avoided the camera like it was going to steal her soul, I couldn’t confirm it until recently.

  She had always been obsessed with a tassel that dangled from a lamp in the corner of my loft. She would stand on her toes and bat at it but had been at least a hand’s width short. Last week I had heard a plaintive meow from across the loft. I discovered her standing on the tips of her toes, one claw caught in the very end of the tassel. Once I confirmed that the tassel hadn’t stretched or lowered, I finally had concrete proof that she was longer than when we first met.