Chapter Fifteen.
Mitch
His meetings were done, and he’d agreed to next season’s designs, which meant he was now free to stalk Frederick and Alexander. Clifton’s son was a worse murderer than he was. The Ceann-Feadhna had clearly been busy, as Clifton had died two days ago despite being in solitary confinement. Mitch didn’t just want Frederick dead; he wanted him hurting, to see everything Frederick loved brought down.
His father and cousin had screwed up. While Mitch had been playing them, they’d moved against him. Frederick clearly thought he was untouchable in threatening Jess and then attacking Diar. He was about to discover what a mistake that was. Diar was safe back at Bran Castle, and Mitch remained unaware of its location. It was safer that way. Before Mitch had left, he’d gone to Lilith and asked for a spell.
Lilith had been reluctant to use it, but Mitch had insisted. If he were captured, he could say nothing about the Uile-bheist. Mitch couldn’t even mention they were shifters with a human side. Should Mitch be forced into trying to divulge information,if his will broke under torture, then as soon as he tried to speak, his brain would fry. He pointed out how dangerous the knowledge they could shift would be. Lilith hadn’t argued after that and cast the spell.
Now he was waiting. Frederick was at his golf club, and Mitch lingered in the bar, hidden behind a plant, watching for the police to arrive. Using his influence a little, Mitch had ensured that this arrest would be a public humiliation.
Mitch saw movement, and then several officers entered the clubhouse. Frederick was bigging it up loudly with his buddies. Mitch was going to enjoy this.
The officers spotted him and headed over.
“Frederick Weideman?” a constable asked.
Frederick turned around, and his eyes narrowed. “What do you want?”
“Are you Frederick Weideman?” the guy repeated, and Frederick inclined his head in acknowledgement.
“Why don’t we chat over there?” Frederick ordered, his words unmistakably a command. “No doubt they’re looking for a donation for the women and children’s fund,” he said cockily to his friends.
“Mr Frederick Weideman, you do not have to speak a word.But it could harm your defence if, when questioned, you do not mention something that you later rely on in court. Anything you do or say may be given in evidence,” the officer continued.
“What the hell is this about?” Frederick demanded as Mitch stood up. Frederick hadn’t seen him yet.
“We’re arresting you for the murders of Adelaide Mandelson, Claire Severn, and Tammy Snow.”
Gasps rang out at the names of a trio of missing socialites. Adelaide disappeared seven years ago, Claire three years, and Tammy a year. They’d all been ex-girlfriends of Frederick who’d pissed him off, and Frederick had killed them in temper. Mitchknew where the bodies were buried and called in a tip-off. DNA would send Frederick to jail for life. But Mitch was only beginning.
He’d tear down everything the prick held valuable. His status, money, reputation, and looks. As Frederick was carted off, Mitch appeared, and his cousin froze.
“You bastard! I’ll get even for this, Mitchum. Jess is dead, you hear me, gone!” Frederick ranted as people around him whispered.
“Add death threats, too, officer,” Mitch remarked calmly. He smiled widely as Frederick completely melted down, revealing his true self to everyone. A cruel, spiteful, nasty, selfish piece of work.
???
“I don’t know if this works for me,” Mitch said a few days later as he peered into a mirror. “Mary Worth, Mary Worth, Mary Worth.”
Mary’s terrifying visage appeared, and smirked at Mitch.
“Would you like to come home?” she demanded.
“That would be nice,” he replied.
“What do I get?”
Mitch grinned. He held up a box of toffees. “I hear these are your favourites.”
Mary’s eyes grew wide, and she stretched out a hand. “Take it,” she instructed, and Mitch grasped it, and she yanked him through. His stomach rebelled again, but this time he’d not eaten all day. Mitch swallowed hard and shook his head.
“Does that get any easier?”
“Nope, gimmie!” Mary ordered, wriggling clawed fingers at him. Mitch laughed and handed over the box, and Mary winkedat him. “Your friend is at the lake with Ness, as she now likes to be called. Thank God, as it saves us from the long version of her name.”
“Thanks. I’ll head down.”
