Dying to be a Star: The India Kirby Witch Mystery (Book 1) Read online

  The India Kirby Witch Mystery

  DYING TO BE A STAR

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission for the publication / use of these trademarks.

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  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 1

  India Kirby threw a cursory glance over the Florida shoreline before she hit Answer, making sure no one would need her to jump down from her lifeguard post and dash into the water to save them. The beach was clear, save for the past-her-prime singing star Onyx Johnson and entourage, who were sprawled out on beach chairs and sipping brightly colored cocktails. They looked like they could barely stagger to their feet, let alone decide to take a dip in the turquoise water.

  “Hey, India!” came Amy’s ever-bubbly voice down the line.

  India smiled. Since she’d first met her magical mentor Luis a month before, she’d learned a quick little spell to raise people’s spirits, but it seemed Amy had that sort of magic without even having to try. “Hey girl, what’s up?”

  “Well, you know I just started the catering business, like, maybe a month ago, and I was getting frustrated because clients weren’t coming in all that fast?” Amy said, her voice brimming with excitement.

  India tilted her head back, enjoying the heat of the sun on her face. “Something tells me—”

  “I’ve just gotten the best client ever!” Amy squealed down the line. “Eeek!”

  India laughed, imagine Amy hopping around her house with a huge grin on her face. “That’s amazing!”

  “And I need you to help me. I could probably do it on my own, like, in terms of the numbers, but, you know, I’m freaking out. And you’re just about the only one who can stop me screwing it all up, ‘cause you’ll know I’ll get nervous and chatter on endlessly, and then they’ll be like—”

  India laughed. “Who is it, though?”

  “India, you will not believe this.”

  “Try me.”

  “No, you won’t. Nuh uh. Not one bit.”

  India flicked a wave of her chocolate-colored hair out of her face. It was crunchy with sea salt and beach air, as always. “Amy Donovan, you’d better tell me right now.”

  “When I look at you, baby, my heart goes boom-boom-flutter, and I can’t control myself…”

  “Umm… Amy?” India said, grinning. “As sweet as that is, given that you’ve known me, oh, maybe twenty years, you would know that I’m straight. Straight as a line.”

  Amy giggled. “Oh, yes, and very much in lurrve with Xavier Bradford, Mister Tough Guy Super-cop.”

  “I am not in love! We’re just… good friends, that’s all.”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “Anyways,” India said, keen to change the subject. “Who’s this client?”

  “That’s why I was singing that song, duh,” Amy said. “You don’t remember who sang that?”

  “Nope.” India only vaguely recalled the melody.

  “Onyx, of course!”

  India’s eyes snapped over to the music star, whose skin was turning ever more lobster-colored by the minute. “Oh yeah, I remember now. You know the weirdest thing? She’s at the beach right now, a couple hundred feet away. I’m looking at her right this second.”

  “Wow, it must be fate,” said Amy. “Anyways, gotta dash, go pick up all the supplies from the store. It’s some party at the beach house she’s renting, tomorrow night. I’ll swing by and pick you up, say around six?”

  “Sure, I’ll be home then. And congratulations.”

  Amy giggled. “Oh, get outta here. Bye, girl.”

  “Later.”

  India tucked her cell back in her pouch bag and shifted on her lifeguard podium. As much as she loved her job, it wasn’t long before she was sweating through her swimsuit, and ready to wade into the water’s crystal clear edge herself. Thankfully a light breeze gave her a little relief.

  She glanced over at the star and her entourage again. One of them was clearly the singer’s boyfriend, his strong bronze arms wrapped around Onyx’s tiny waist. Though Onyx hadn’t had a hit in around ten years, she looked just as haughty and full of diva attitude as ever. There were rumors of a comeback tour.

  I wonder which hole she crawled out of, India thought. What does a waning star do with their lives? They would be too famous to have a regular job without everyone pestering them, but no one would want them in showbiz either. Plus, how did she pay all her ‘people’? Maybe they were only hangers on, just as desperate as she was to recapture her glory days, and scrape a penny or a lick of recognition out of it.

  India’s mind whirred with questions, as it nearly always did. That was just the kind of person she was, always thinking about what was going on behind the scenes, about the truth behind appearances.

  That was why she’d moved to Benton Point in the first place – to try and relax, and stop overthinking. Amy had moved three months or so before, and was always raving about the palms that lined the sidewalks, the intense blue of the sky, and the warm air that seemed to close in around you like a big hug. And when India had visited, she’d made up her mind within an hour. It was such a contrast with their tiny Wisconsin town, where the only excitement was what India could conjure up out of her imagination. There she could lose herself in trains of thought all the livelong day, but here? Well, the gentle lap of the waves, the cheer of the people, and the feel of the sand at her soles just drew her out of herself. She’d needed that.

  And now, finally, Amy’s business was taking shape. Things couldn’t have been going better.

  ***

  The next evening, Amy pulled her purple convertible up to the kerb by India’s home, her dark shades looking so black against the wispy platinum strands of her bun.

  The night breeze whispered through India’s flowing hair as she hopped in the front, tucking her canary yellow sun dress under her. She turned to see the back crammed with catering supplies. “Wow, looks like we’re in for a busy night.”

  “You bet.”

  Amy cranked up the rap music on the stereo until the car thumped with bass, and she nodded her head along like she was in her own music video.

  India laughed. “You’re from Wisconsin, you know.”

  “It’s not about where I came from,” Amy rapped dramatically, “it’s about where I’m going.”

  India giggled. “I can agree with that.”

  Before long, Amy wa
s swinging a right into the gravel driveway of a mansion by the coast.

  “Whoah,” India said. “Now that’s something.”

  A huge fountain up front spurted water in looping falls back into its stone pool. And, India’s favorite, it was underlit in warm light, giving the place a luxury glow.

  The lawns, of course, were perfectly manicured around palms that jutted into the azure evening sky.

  But as the old convertible rolled over the gravel, it was the house that took their breath away. Four triangular gables pointed into the sky, all packed next to each other like it was a row of homes instead of just one, and, to be honest, it could have comfortably fitted in more than four families in its three stories. Bright white windows and doors popped out of the elegant light gray stone, and a sprawling terrace stretched out across the ocean side on the first floor.

  “You must get a great view up there,” India said.

  “We’ll see in a minute,” Amy said with a grin. “That’s where the party’s gonna be.”

  And before long, the party was in full swing. The terrace was crammed with vaguely recognizable faces of C-list celebrities, and India weaved her way through them to hand out canapés and champagne glasses. The view of the sun dipping into the ocean was obscured by the sheer amount of milling bodies.

  The terrace, as it turned out, was even more amazing than one could see from the driveway. A floating walkway led down to a series of pools, each underlit in a different color and surrounded by palms. Onyx wore nothing to her party but a hot pink bikini, and spent the first hour or so splashing and giggling in the smaller purple-lit pool with her blond, floppy-haired boyfriend. She seemed oblivious to her guests, throwing back glass after glass of champagne and locking lips with her man at every opportunity.

  Before long the night was darkening, the stars beginning to show themselves in the deep blue, and the breeze swept across from the ocean, keeping the guests cool. Strings of little lights dotted the terrace like an army of lightning bugs or, as India’s imagination liked to think, like fairies. Onyx’s cheesy pop hits, probably played from a CD someone fished out from a discount bin, blared out around the guests on a loop. India felt the FBI should perhaps get a hold on that record – it would be a great method to make people ‘fess up. A couple of minutes of Sweetest, Cutest Boy would have even the most hardened criminal eager to spill out his secrets. ‘Just make it stop!’

  “How’s it going?” India asked as she walked back into the palatial kitchen. It was full of white marble and chrome.

  Amy rushed around like a madwoman, stirring, pouring and freaking out. “Please, please, please tell me they hired loads of waiters.” She glanced back at the clock. “It’s nearly seven thirty, when they said they wanted dinner, and I’m only just going to manage to scrape through at that time. The quicker we can get it out there, the less pissed off Her Highness is gonna be.”

  India put her hand on her shoulder, and held down firm when Amy tried to shake herself away and back to the pressure cooker. “Hey,” India said. “You’re doing great. Just try cool down a bit, huh? There’s plenty of waiters. Don’t worry, girl.”

  Amy managed a grin, then a deep breath. “Now that’s why I brought you along.”

  “Yep, and you know you can always—”

  “Now go make sure the table’s looking like Buckingham Palace, will you?” Amy interrupted, already back to flailing around the kitchen like a maniac.

  India giggled and made a deep bow. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “I ain’t the fricking Majesty, I’m the servant cook in the back tearing her hair out!”

  India headed to the dining room, which adjoined the terrace. It was minimalist in the extreme, with stark white walls, chrome light fittings, light gray tiles, and little else. Two glass tables stretched out clear across the room, with plenty of space to seat everyone, while a smaller glass table stood at the head of the room.

  But it was the woman sat at one of the chairs sorting through a big wicker box on the table that caught India’s attention. Her hair was a mass of tight, deep purple curls that looked gorgeous falling against her caramel skin.

  “Wow,” said India. “Your hair is incredible.”

  “Thank you,” the woman said, showing the gap in her teeth. “The curl pattern’s natural. The color is not.”

  Her face was deadpan, and India didn’t know whether to laugh.

  “Joke,” the woman said, then turned back to the box.

  “Oh, right,” India said, allowing herself to giggle a little.

  “A bit late now.”

  India glanced around the room, knowing she should have been getting back to Amy, but, as usual, her curiosity got the better of her. “What’s that you’re doing there? I mean, if you don’t mind me asking.”

  “We all need spiritual guidance,” the woman said, bringing a selection of little bottles out of the wicker box and placing them on the table. “Superstars and celebrities are no different.”

  “Right,” said India. It made her think of Luis, and how he hadn’t visited in a while. She was almost glad of that, because he inspired a kind of fear in her as much as he did awe. There was no chemistry between them – he was probably approaching his sixties – but she found her heart beating fast and her hands sweating every time she knew he was coming.

  “So Onyx employs me to take care of her, that way, you know?” the woman said. “Oh, goodness, I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Answer. Answer Davis.”

  “Answer, as in answer a question?”

  “Sure,” Answer said, her eyes taking on a mystical look. She flipped her deep violet hair out of her eyes to get a clear look in the box. “Seek and you shall find. Ask a question, and the universe will deliver you your answer.”

  India nodded. As a deep thinker, she didn’t think it was all that weird. “I kind of get that.” Her mind had been opened ever since she’d met Luis in the Wisconsin wilderness. No, not opened. More like busted apart at the seams. Now she’d believe just about anything. “That’s a pretty cool name.”

  “Thank you. What’s yours?”

  “India.”

  Answer looked up. “I studied Ayurvedic massage there, in Kerala.”

  “Oh?” India asked, having no idea what that was.

  “You ever been to India?”

  India smiled wryly. “You know, I’ve never even gotten out of the U.S. yet. My parents chose the name because their once in a lifetime honeymoon trip was to Mumbai.”

  “It’s a wonderful country,” Answer said. “Full of ancient spiritualism. You must go.”

  The sound of giggling with sensual overtones came from the sliding doorway.

  India and Answer both looked up to see Onyx wound around her boyfriend, her damp black locks falling to her waist. Her gaze then snapped over to them.

  “What?” she demanded, then zeroed in on Answer. “Not you, too. You want him now, huh?”

  Answer got to her feet and spoke in a voice that was eerily calm. “Erica, as I—”

  “Don’t call me that!”

  “Beloved, I will say it one more time for you,” Answer said. “This belief you have about everyone wanting to snatch your boyfriend is a reflection of your childhood, and the insecurity you have carried about with your ever since.”

  “I’m not talking about this now.”

  Answer walked over to her, as tranquil as an angel. “There will never be a convenient time to hear this truth.”

  “This is my party,” Onyx said. “So you do whatever the heck I say. Now take your crap out of here and go, if you can’t be happy for me.” Her voice broke. “I thought you of all people would be glad for me. You’re always telling me to stop being so negative, and look on the bright side of things, and now you’re trying to drag me down on my special day.”

  “Hey, babe, don’t worry,” her boyfriend said, putting his hand on her cheek. “I’m still here.”

  She shook him off angrily, and stared at Answer with fury in her eyes. “You’
re against me, aren’t you? You never wanted me to do these concerts. You never wanted me to be a star again, did you?”

  Answer stretched her arms above her head, and then put them back by her sides. She raised a little off the ground, on her toes. “Erica, you’re projecting your issues.”

  “Oh, go to hell.”

  Answer stood tall. “I’m here to serve your spiritual growth, so I’m going to step out just now, as you’ve asked. When you want to talk to me, I’ll be in the hallway.”

  Onyx turned her back, as Answer gathered her little bottles back in the wicker basket and strode out. Her boyfriend stroked her hair and made cooing sounds at her like she was a little girl.

  It was only then that India realized she had been standing watching, when she really should have excused herself. She’d gotten so wrapped up in the drama.

  “You,” Onyx said, looking back at her. “Go outside and tell everyone we’re eating now.”

  “Okay,” India said. Onyx, or Erica, whichever, certainly had something commanding about her.

  Onyx and her boyfriend slid into their seats at the top table, fussing over one another.

  Within a few minutes, the whole crowd had bustled into the dining room and taken up their seats. A swarm of waiters handed champagne to everyone, and India noticed that Onyx’s boyfriend took three glasses, and set two under the table.

  They were joined at the top table by a tall man in a suit, who had a bit too much of a gut but a chiselled face that made up for it, and a voluptuous woman with a sweep of waving red hair like Jessica Rabbit, along with a vintage pin up style. There was also an empty seat, presumably laid out for Answer.

  On India’s quick dash back to the kitchen, Amy had been sitting up on a side counter, looking exhausted. “Go stand in the dining room, will you, and make sure the waiters are doing everything right?” she’d asked India. “My legs are killing me right now.”

  India was glad – she could people watch to her heart’s content.