The Wynne Witch

by H. P. Bayne

“Here to help,” Paul said into his ear.

  Sully pulled back and smiled at his friend. “I know you are.”

  Dez approached and pulled Paul into a hug next. “Good to see you, man.”

  “And you. Where’s our charge?”

  Dez released Paul and pointed out Callum, emerging from the back seat, uncertain gaze locked onto the expansive building in its sea of trees and wide lawns.

  Paul approached him and extended a hand. “Paul Dunsmore. You’re Callum, I understand.”

  Callum nodded dumbly and shook.

  Paul smiled. “I know it’s all a little intimidating, but the staff and the program here are excellent. That said, it will only give back what you put into it. If you’re ready to make a change, they can help guide you in the right direction. What do you say?”

  Callum hadn’t finished staring at Paul. “You’re seriously willing to pay my debt?”

  Paul frowned. “As loathe as I am to hand money over to criminals, I’m happy to help if it means keeping someone alive—as long as you’ll hold up your end of the bargain.”

  “I’ve tried treatment before. It didn’t go so good.”

  “Sometimes recovery is a bit of two steps forward, two steps back. Tell yourself this will be the time you take the car out of reverse.”

  Callum nodded. “Okay.”

  Paul extended an arm toward the building, an indication for Callum to follow. First, Callum turned back to Sully and Dez.

  “I don’t know what to say. You saved my life, like more ways than one.”

  “Say you’ll work through this,” Dez said. “That’s payback enough.”

  Callum smiled, then turned to Sully. “Your brother told me you can see dead people. Can you see—” He stopped, a flush creeping onto his face as he bit his lip.

  Sully shook his head. “I can’t see your mom. I only see people who died by homicide. But she’s around. I’m sure of it.”

  Callum turned to Paul. “Can I see my family?”

  Sully smiled. The statement was promising.

  “Not while you’re in treatment,” Paul said. “But the staff will let you call them, I’m sure.”

  Casting a last glance at Dez and Sully, Callum followed Paul inside.

  Dez leaned back against the SUV. “That’s us. Solving the world’s problems one person at a time.”

  Sully leaned next to Dez. “Whatever you said to him, well done, you.”

  Dez shrugged. “Reminded him of the importance of family and facing up to problems. All stuff I learned the hard way.”

  They waited there about fifteen minutes, until Paul returned.

  “All booked in and ready to roll,” he said. “Judie, the manager here, gave him a few minutes to call his family. I think you’ll have some very satisfied clients on your hands.”

  “If only it were so easy,” Sully said. “We might have helped their son, but it still leaves us with a homicide to solve.”

  They followed Paul to his bank from there.

  Sully and Dez waited in the SUV while Paul went in to take out the cash—bills, not cheque. Not much good a gang could make of a cheque.

  Beside Sully, Dez sat scrolling through Callum’s cellphone, provided to them during the drive over. Callum had pointed out the contact info for the captain he knew, and Sully and Dez had only to text the number to arrange for a drop-off.

  Callum had also provided names and descriptions for the two gangsters who had travelled with him to Mildred’s the day he found her. Callum was adamant he didn’t kill her, and Sully was inclined to believe him. Even so, he wouldn’t mind having a chat with those two, just to cover their bases.

  If it all came to nothing, they’d be left with a big question: if Callum didn’t kill Mildred, who did?

  Paul returned after about twenty-five minutes in the bank. He leaned into the passenger-side window, backpack in hand.

  “Bit of rigamarole involved in withdrawing this kind of cash, even for me.” He frowned down at the bag. “I got this for the gym. Liked it too, and now I can’t remember where I bought it.” He shrugged and passed it through the window to Sully. “Oh, well. Here you go. Ten G’s, all counted, in fifties and hundreds.”

  “Thanks, Paul,” Sully said.

  Paul turned his gaze from Sully to the bag. “Too late now, of course, but it’s kind of too bad we don’t have access to a good printer.”

  Dez shook his head. “No good. When these guys start spending, they’d figure it out pretty quick if we fed them counterfeit. They’d go after Callum or his family, not just for the money they say they’re owed, but for revenge as well. We can’t risk it.”

  Paul nodded. “Good point. Are you going to set up the meet now?”

  Sully shrugged. “Set it up, sure. But I don’t want to head back over there now. It’s too late in the day, and I’d rather make sure to meet them in daylight.”

  “Maybe you could have them meet you on this side rather than in the Forks.”

  “Actually, the Forks is probably exactly the right place to meet them.” Sully quirked up a side of his mouth. “Noisy Ned will be excellent backup if things go south.”

  “Noisy Ned?”

  Dez grimaced. “Very active poltergeist. Only in Sully’s world. Thanks again, man. We appreciate this.”

  Giving a small salute, Paul straightened and returned to his vehicle.

  “You want to call them, or should I?” Sully asked.

  Dez took Callum’s phone from the centre console cupholder where they’d placed it earlier. “I’ll do it. I do intimidating better than you—at least when you’re not supercharged with ghost energy.”

  He keyed in the password Callum had provided and located the name Fly in the contacts.

  Dez scoffed. “Fly. What a stupid name for a gang captain. All it does is make me want to swat him.”

  “Don’t share that thought with him, all right?” Sully suggested.

  Dez tapped to dial, then put the call on speaker so Sully would be able to hear. Someone picked up on the first ring.

  “Cal, you little prick. You’re dead, you hear me? You and your family. You’re all dead.”

  Dez cut in. “Whoa, there, hotshot. You want your money or not? Couldn’t expect Cal to get it unless he cut out on you first, right?”

  “Who the hell is this?”

  “We’re agents of Cal’s. That’s all you need to know. We’ve got your money. Three thousand for what Cal snorted up his nose.”

  “Deal was ten.”

  “Ten for what?”

  “For his stay. For putting up with his punk ass. And for giving two of my boys concussions.”

  “For ten, you’ve got to do one more thing. You and your circus over there are to stay the hell away from Cal and his family. We’re not without friends. You want to call down a war over a little rodent like Cal, that’s your call. But bank on it: you’ll be getting a war. My advice: take the money and run.”

  Silence stretched, a few seconds feeling endless. Then, “Okay. Deal. But you’ll hand us the money in the Forks.”

  “Fine. Ravenwood Hall, noon tomorrow. Come alone.”

  “Ravenwood Hall? No fucking way.”

  “Ravenwood or nothing. What, you scared of ghosts?”

  More silence. Sully grinned at Dez. Challenging tough guys like Fly on fear was typically a great way to get them to walk into just about anything you wanted.

  “Fuck you. I ain’t scared. There and then.”

  Dez disconnected before Fly could manage any final threats.

  “Why noon?” Sully asked. “This some sort of High Noon thing? You expecting a showdown?”

  “Actually, I’m hoping we can corral one or two people into joining us. If we’re Wyatt and Doc, I could use some more Earp brothers onside before we face these bastards.”

  Sully thought of two people immediately. He’d had an email exchange a month or so ago with Terrence Waters. Medically discharged from the Armed Forces, he was missing an arm—though no one would
know it by the way he fought. Proficient with both firearms and hand-to-hand combat, Sully could think of no one better than Terrence to have at their side tomorrow.

  Now he had only to hope he would get the message in time and be near enough to join them.

  The other person he thought of wouldn’t likely be as keen to mix himself up in a potential battle in the Forks.

  “Hey, man,” Sully said once Forbes answered the phone.

  “Hey?” He drew out the word, turning it into a question as if reading something in Sully’s unusually light tone. “What?”

  “Are you available tomorrow for a quick trip?”

  “Where, exactly?” No less guarded.

  “Um, the Forks?” Sully spoke the words through a fake smile, squinting as if Forbes stood in front of him to dole out a smack to the head.

  “What? Why?”

  Sully cast a glance at Dez for a boost but found only a shrug waiting for him. “Well, we need to meet with some guys from the Oldwater Crew.”

  Forbes took a moment before answering. Sully suspected a scolding was about to follow, and he wasn’t disappointed. “The Oldwater Crew? What the hell’s the matter with you? Are you out of you mind?”

  Sully jumped back in quickly. “We’re trying to keep a guy and his family alive by buying him out of his debt. We told the captain to come alone, but we all know that won’t happen. We have no idea how many guys are going to show up or what they’ll have on them for weapons. Dez and I already dropped two of them and—”

  “What, killed?”

  “No, knocked out. We had to so we could save a guy they were about to execute.”

  Forbes scoffed. “Well, what do you need me for? You’ve already been going all Rambo here.”

  “Yeah, but they’re pissed now.”

  Forbes snorted. “Really? Didn’t see that coming. Who else is going with you? Dez, no doubt.”

  Dez leaned toward the phone. “Yep. And Sully sent a message to someone else we know, ex-Army.”

  “Great. Who else?”

  Sully exchanged a glance with Dez before answering. “Uh, that’s it.”

  “Tell him about Ned,” Dez said.

  “Who’s Ned?”

  Sully grimaced. “A poltergeist.”

  “You’re fucking kidding me.”

  “Nope,” Dez said. “But seriously, man, you should see this thing’s moves.”

  “I don’t want to see its moves.” Forbes sighed. “Where and what time should I meet you?”

  Some info and many thanks later, Sully disconnected and slumped back against the seat with relief. “If we’ve got Forbes and his gun and you with Lachlan’s, that should provide some serious disincentive if these guys want to play rough.”

  “Yeah,” Dez said. “And if, by some miracle, Terrence shows up, we’ll do even better. Guy looks like Idris Elba on steroids. Plus, no way he’d show up without a full arsenal.”

  Sully wasn’t a fan of guns, but accepted they were necessary at times. Worse came to worst, he had access to his own brand of weapon. He just hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

  13

  Dez had been planning on dropping Sully off and returning home for the day, but decided otherwise when Sully said he wanted to check in with the Wynnes.

  “If what Marc said is true about this being a banshee-type ghost, maybe we’ve nipped it in the bud,” Sully said as they drove out to Willow Valley that evening, a bag of takeout food between them. “Callum’s a Wynne, and his life was in danger. It stands to reason this witch thing would appear as a warning.”

  Dez raised hopeful brows. “So what you’re saying is the ghosts might be gone when we get there.”

  “The Witch of Rhibyn anyway. It’s possible Mildred’s been hanging around out of concern for her nephew. We’ll find out soon enough.”

  “Or maybe all she needed was for someone to figure out she didn’t keel over of natural causes or by accident.”

  Dez eyed Sully for confirmation, but only received a shrug as Sully took another bite of cheeseburger. “Maybe.”

  Dez returned his attention to the road, trying to keep from straying into worlds he couldn’t see. He managed it for all of a minute. But he kept his thoughts to himself, allowing Sully a short time for peace. Whenever they went into a haunted location, there was no way of knowing what they’d find waiting for them—and what Sully would have to contend with.

  For now, Dez cranked up the music and sang along between a mouth half full of fries. There would be time for reality soon enough.

  The Wynnes were waiting for them when they pulled into the yard.

  They were a pleasant-looking couple, and the way Neil’s arm was slung over Drea’s shoulders suggested a happy marriage based on solid friendship—the kind Dez himself had been fortunate enough to find. One glance at these two, and Dez was already inclined to like them.

  Neil’s eyes grew large as Dez unfolded his six-foot-six, muscular frame from the driver’s seat. Dez put on a beaming grin to make up for his intimidating figure.

  Sully beat him over to the couple to begin the introductions. “Neil and Drea, this is my brother, Dez. We work together.”

  Neil extended a hand and pumped Dez’s. “Good to meet you.” Then he turned back to Sully. “We had a call from Callum about half an hour ago. Is it true? Is he really in Birchwood?”

  Sully smiled and nodded. “Yeah, it’s true. We found him and dropped him off a little while ago.”

  Drea’s face lost some colour. “But we can’t afford that place.”

  Dez leaned toward her. “Taken care of. We’ve got a friend with a big heart and a chequebook to match. He’s a sucker for a good cause, and Callum assured us he’s ready to make some changes.”

  Neil frowned. “That’s what he told us too. But he’s said it before. He’s never really meant it.”

  “I think he means it this time, but it’s up to him in the long run,” Sully said. He explained how he and Dez had found Callum, sparing no details as to how they’d arrived in the nick of time to prevent his murder. “He knows what the stakes are, that any slip back into drug use will put him back into the gang’s crosshairs. He came really close this time. Next time, he might not be so lucky.”

  Neil stared at Sully for a few long seconds. His eyes filling with tears, he closed the distance and wrapped him in an embrace. “Not luck. It was you two. You saved my boy.”

  He released Sully and hugged Dez while Drea began the process herself. Finally, hugs over, Neil laughed and flushed, then invited them inside.

  “There’s some stuff we need to talk to you about,” Sully warned as Neil and Drea led them through the house to the kitchen. There, Drea offered to make a pot of tea.

  Dez noted neither of them asked Sully what he’d meant by his last statement. Most people would probably have immediately asked. Of course, most people didn’t have a son who’d gotten involved in a criminal lifestyle and nearly been murdered as a result. Chances were, these two had had just about all the reality they could take.

  Neil’s nervous glance at Sully as he slid into a chair at the table proved Dez right. However, when Neil turned to Drea, his face changed. “How about chai? The vanilla one.”

  Dez was more a coffee guy, but he wasn’t about to argue with Neil’s hopeful expression.

  “Whatever our guests want,” Drea scolded lightly, turning to Dez and Sully. “What would you like? We’re tea nuts in this house. Whatever you want, we probably have.”

  “Chai’s good,” Sully said, to which Dez nodded agreement.

  As the kettle heated, Drea joined them at the table. “Callum apologized to me for the way he’s acted around me. He might be serious this time. He’s never apologized before.”

  Dez smiled. “I think he had a bit of a reckoning today. Speaking from personal experience, facing your own mortality has a way of putting everything else in your life into perspective.”

  Sully leaned forward, eyes on Neil and Drea, and Dez guessed he was about to
get into the crux of the thing: the haunting and what it probably meant.

  “Neil, have you seen anything since that first day?”

  “Well, I’ve caught glimpses of the lady in the black dress.”

  “The one with the veil?”

  Neil nodded.

  “But not the screaming woman you saw the first day,” Sully said.

  The couple exchanged a glance. “We thought they must have been the same one,” Drea said.

  “But you don’t know that for sure, do you?”

  Neil shook his head. “No, I guess we don’t. Are you saying there are two ghosts?”

  Dez didn’t envy Sully the explanation he had to impart. No one was going to like finding out they had seen a harbinger of death.

  As Sully talked, the couple’s response was pretty much as Dez had envisioned. The kettle boiled and shut off midway through, but the teapot sat empty and neglected on the counter as Drea leaned in to Neil as support. Neil’s face had gone terribly pale, bordering on the kind of grey-green that suggested his body was deciding between being sick or passing out.

  “Maybe you should put your head between your knees for a minute,” Dez suggested.

  Neil shook his head. “Fine.” He opened his mouth as if to say more, but nothing came out.

  “Dez is right, hon,” Drea said as she gently pushed her husband’s head down.

  They gave the Wynnes a minute, Sully seeing to the tea while Dez pulled four mugs from a rack next to the microwave. By the time they returned to the table, Neil had sat back up and looked less like he would keel over in a weak wind.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  Sully offered Neil a kind smile in reply. “It’s a lot to take in. Not the sort of stuff people are experienced in knowing how to handle.”

  Drea rubbed at Neil’s back another few seconds before returning attention to Sully. “So this witch, she must have been trying to warn us about Cal.”

  “Maybe,” Sully said. “We can’t say for sure.”

  “You mean the danger might not be over?”

  “You need to let us know if you see her again. In the meantime, Dez and I have set up a meet in the Forks tomorrow to clear Callum’s debt with the gang. Hopefully, if he was the reason for the appearance of this witch, tomorrow will mean she doesn’t come back.”