The Ominous Garden & Marital Bliss

By Samantha Holmes

Charles Rathe and his sister assistant Eliza toured the world performing magic. But, tragically, everything changed. Eliza died and, to all concerned, it was Charles' fault. But, Eliza came back. Was she a dream or an hallucination? Might he actually be crazy? She pushed him to get off his ass and use his skills to become a Private Investigator.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stark Raving Group
• Release date: Mar 17, 2014
• ISBN: 9781630520052

Book preview

The Ominous Garden

&

Marital Bliss

Two Charles Rathe Adventures

Samantha Holmes

THE OMINOUS GARDEN & MARITAL BLISS

Stark Raving Group LLC – Publishers

P.O. Box 1451

Beverly Hills, CA 90213

Copyright © 2014 Samantha Holmes

First Stark Raving Group edition 2014

Cover Design and Illustration: Mike Vosburg

Title Design: Bob Wynne

ISBN: 978-1-63052-005-2

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in whole or in part without written permission from the publisher, except by reviewers who may quote brief excerpts in connection with a review in a newspaper, magazine or electronic publication; nor may any part of this book be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording , or other, without written permission from the publisher.

All the characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Electronically printed in the United States of America

Distributed by Consortium Book Sales and Distribution and Bookxy

Contents

The Ominous Garden

Marital Bliss

About The Author

Stark Raving Group

The Ominous Garden

The Checkered Past was my favorite bar lately. The drinks were generous, and, more importantly, bill collectors and my ex-wife had yet to discover it.

I was on my third glass of scotch, or it could have been the fourth, and my mind was wrapped up with an old trick I performed years ago. A chrome shaker poured different drinks from the same source: wine, whiskey, martini. It was a swell illusion and easy to do when you prepared. I didn’t invent the trick, that was David Devant, but I had added a few twists here and there. Such as, the inclusion of a flame that shot out of the spout at one point, which I explained, Sorry… prohibition hootch. It got a laugh, but I suspected that came from Eliza’s startled reaction more than the joke. I always meant to come up with a better punch line.

Eliza had been my partner since we were children and performed for our parents with a blanket as our curtain. When our mother died and father toiled away in a steel plant, I watched out for Eliza. Andrew, our elder brother, skipped out as soon as he was able and never looked back. I was glad to see him leave; we weren’t close. He bullied me and my sister when our parents weren’t looking, and our prized possessions would almost magically find their way to his room. I paid him back on occasion, usually with magical tomfoolery, anything that made him look like an idiot. He would then give me a sound beating, but it didn’t matter. Once he had been branded an idiot, the reputation stuck. His personality traits followed him into adulthood. Eliza and I were close and looked out for each other as best we could. She was a swell girl and smart. When we reached a moderate success, she kept me from becoming an ass. Not sure why I was dwelling on it now, it had been a long time since I was on a stage. I doubted I could fill the seats anymore, except for those with a morbid curiosity or wanting to heckle me.

Bored, I stuffed my hand into my pocket to see if I could come up with some spare change to practice. There were numerous things you could do with even a few cents. Some of the best magicians traveled light with only a couple of coins, a deck of cards, and a top hat. Coin tricks had such wonderful names like Flying Eagles, Miser’s dream, or my favorite, Downs Eureka Pass, which was created by the ’King of Koins’, Thomas Nelson Downs. I wished I could have seen him in person, but he retired when I was about twelve.

Alas, my pockets had no silver, only a note from my niece, Rose. She had asked me to stop by today after lunch, and I had completely forgotten. I checked my watch. I still had time to catch a bus and fit in one more drink, maybe two.

From the corner, Eliza looked at me reproachfully. I waved her away with my glass. I ignored my sister’s disapproval, especially since she could now be classified as an imaginary friend. She had been dead for three years, but that never stopped her from having an opinion, Charles, don’t drink. Charles, make something of your life. Charles, it wasn’t your fault… Ah, phooey. What do ghosts know about anything?

You think I’m crazy? I asked Eddy. He laughed as if I said the funniest thing he’d ever heard.

No, he said with authority. I’ve heard of you, and anyone who is famous can’t be crazy.

That settles it, I concluded. Nice of him to still classify me as famous. A disgraced stage magician usually isn’t put in the same category as movie stars, adventurers, and politicians. Maybe he meant infamous, that fits me better.

Want another? Eddy the bartender inquired, a bottle poised in anticipation of my reply.

Need you ask? I answered. I wouldn’t say I was a ’drunk’, more like a social drinker who didn’t need company. The image of your typical ’drunk’ doesn’t put me in good company; shabby men in alley ways either staggering home or to a box they’d filled with newspapers. I try to keep the appearance of sobriety. To me, it was amber courage. It gave me something I couldn’t live without — a happy numbness.

Anything new these days? Eddy asked brightly. He wasn’t too smart and had only a few questions in his repertoire. This was the third time he asked that particular question, once for every drink he had poured me so far.

Not since five minutes ago, I replied, not bothering to look up at him. He didn’t have the kind of face you wanted to linger on. Eddy used to be a bouncer, and he had never bothered to block the punches aimed at his face. They had done nothing to improve his appearance. He was a nice enough bloke, though, and ran a fair establishment.

Where’s the dame I saw ya with last? Eddy asked, disappointed that I was alone today.

Went looking for better company, I offered.

That was my interpretation of our split. I smiled, remembering what Eliza had called her, "A no good, gold-digging tramp.’ It’s nice to have someone on your side, even if she could be classified as an imaginary friend.

She was some looker. Wish I had a dame like that on my arm.

My suggestion is to make a lot of money.

Eddy laughed and made some comment about also needing to be suave and debonair, but he didn’t say that exactly, just something that sounded somewhat like it. I had to decipher the words appropriately.

So, she left ya?

For the time being. I’m certain that after the next big job, I’ll be seeing her circling around.

Been on a dry streak?

I motioned to my empty glass and asked him to help fix the problem. I didn’t want to discuss the topic further, especially with Eddy.

Hey, misss-ta, called a man who staggered down the bar toward me. His S’s extended into hisses, and his breath would ignite near an open flame. He must have been drinking in one of the bar’s corners. Those dark voids were man-eaters; a person could sit there for hours with a bottle and be completely invisible until closing.

I ignored him, hoping he would move on or pass out, the latter seeming more likely.

You’re Charles Rathe, aren’t ya? the man accused.

I turned to face him. Eddy made a few steps toward us, which was fine by me.

Yes, I am. And who might you be?

The man’s lips smacked together, and his eyes widened in what I suspected was anger.

You, you… the man was beside himself, not knowing how best to tell me what I was.

Have a seat, I offered.

You dandy, you two-bit…snoop.

The snoop gave me an inkling of what he was upset about. I was a P.I. for at least the last year and a half, something my sister recommended I do to occupy myself. Or did I dream that conversation? Didn’t matter, I was pretty good at it. I was even getting a bit of a reputation and a few enemies on both sides of the law. That is how you measure success after all. I took another sip of my drink to occupy myself while he struggled to find his words.

You sent my brother away for years.

I’m sorry, I said insincerely.

"He was doing great till you came around. He was just trying to make a