Hatchet Hollow

by Amanda McKinney

  As she eased into the ripped, black leather chair, Claire walked up behind her, tying an apron around her neck.

  “Just a quick trim?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Claire grabbed a brush from the counter, and it tumbled to the floor.

  “Dammit.”

  Raven watched her cheeks flush as she bent down and picked it up.

  “So what’s your name?”

  “Annabelle Jones.”

  “Don’t recognize the name, or you.” She held up the ends of Raven’s hair and cocked her head. “Lookin’ like a half-inch’ll take the dead off.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Claire nodded, popped her gum, and Raven caught the faintest scent of liquor.

  “You from here?”

  “No, I’m new in town, and in the beginning stages of opening my own brokerage firm, actually.”

  “Brokerage firm, huh?”

  Raven noticed Claire slide a nervous glance out the window. Something was up with this woman, no doubt about it. She nodded. “Yep, taking after my daddy.”

  “We’ve already got one of those, ya know.”

  Snip, snip.

  Her heart skipped a beat as Claire took off what was, without question, more than a half-inch from the bottom of her hair. She cleared her throat. “I didn’t realize there was already a brokerage in town.”

  Claire snorted. “I wouldn’t worry about them, at all. A bunch of good ol’ boys operating like it’s the eighties. Wouldn’t be surprised if they close their doors soon enough.”

  “Who runs the company?”

  “A man named Harold Schumer. Has a team of three, I believe. Handles a lot of business.”

  Snip, snip, snip.

  Raven’s heart started racing—dear God that was at least two inches. She took a quick inhale and returned to the subject. “Actually, that name does ring a bell. Does an Eric Stevens work there?”

  Claire glanced up, meeting Raven’s gaze in the mirror, and something flickered in her eyes. “Yes.”

  Raven smiled a sheepish smile. “Cute guy. I ran into him at the grocery store a few weeks ago. We chatted for a moment.”

  “He’s a flirt, no doubt about it. Makes his way around town, for sure.”

  Raven grinned. “Really?”

  Claire cocked an eyebrow and smirked. “Yep. He and I had a little thing, but I’ve got my eye on someone else now anyway. I can get you his number. I’m sure he’d be more than willing to show you around town.” She winked.

  “Oh, don’t worry about it, I see him from time to time on the trail, too.”

  The scissors fell from Claire’s hand, clattering on the hardwood floor. Her smile faded, her eyes widened, reflecting an undeniable look of fear. She locked eyes with Raven in the mirror. A moment slid by before she leaned forward, and whispered, “Be careful on that trail, you hear?”

  Raven’s stomach tickled… the way it did just before she was about to uncover something. Something big. Did Claire know about Abby? Already?

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Um, just be careful, okay? That’s all.” She glanced out the window, again, and then swooped down and picked up the scissors. Raven watched her closely in the mirror as she finished up the “trim”, her face as pale as a ghost.

  “Well, you’re all set.”

  Raven looked at her significantly shorter hair in the mirror. Hiding the shock would be the greatest test of her undercover work this morning. She took a quick breath and smiled. “Looks good, thanks.”

  Claire set the scissors on the counter as the front door opened. Her head snapped around. A short, brunette woman with hair knotted on the top of her head walked in.

  “Oh, hey, Becca, come on in. I’ll be with you in a sec.” Claire led Raven to the front desk.

  As Raven signed the receipt, she felt Claire’s steady gaze on her.

  “Thanks again.”

  And as she grabbed her bag, she took a quick glance at the computer screen in the distance, before turning and walking out of the salon.

  The door locked behind her as she walked down the porch steps and hit the unlock button on her car. Her mind was reeling as she started the engine.

  CHAPTER 9

  RAVEN GRABBED HER cell phone from the console as she drove down the dirt road.

  “Ace here.”

  “Ace, it’s Raven.”

  “Howdy do?”

  “Good. Thanks for getting me the info on Claire Banks, but I need more…”

  “You always do.”

  “I need you to see if there’s any connection to Abby Collier. If they’re acquaintances, friends, whatever. Check Facebook, etcetera.”

  “Does this have to do with the Stevens insider trading case?”

  Pause. "No… and one more thing.”

  “Oh, you always have one more thing, Raven.”

  “I need the address to Abby’s house.”

  “I’m not even going to ask.”

  “Probably best.”

  “Give me a minute, let me look it up.”

  Twenty-five seconds later, Ace rattled off the address.

  “Thanks, Ace. Let me know what you find out about Claire, okay?”

  “You got it. Hey, Rave? Should you be meddling in Abby’s case? Shouldn't you be focusing on Eric Stevens?"

  She bit her lip. “Just let me know what you find, okay?”

  “Alrighty then.”

  Click.

  Raven pulled on her baseball cap, glanced over her shoulder, then pushed out of the car. She looked up at the thick clouds and then at the small apartment building. Her eyes landed on the top, corner unit.

  She looked around, surprised not to see police cars, but if she knew Zander, he was still searching the cave for evidence, which was a good thing because he’d kick her ass for showing up at her apartment.

  Her stomach clenched—she shouldn’t be there. She knew she shouldn’t. But this certainly wouldn’t be the first time a member of Black Rose Investigations stepped over the line to help solve a case.

  And it wouldn’t be the last.

  She just wanted to take a look around Abby’s place.

  Just a quick, innocent look.

  That’s all.

  After one more glance over her shoulder, she walked up the short sidewalk leading to the four-unit building. Only a dim light shone from the bottom corner unit, the other two looked unoccupied as far as she could tell.

  She jogged up the staircase and slipped on a pair of latex gloves and booties. Then, she pulled a small silver tool—courtesy of Black Rose—from her bag, and without so much of a grunt, popped open the front door.

  She stepped inside and wrinkled her nose. The smell of burned incense permeated the small studio apartment.

  She flicked the light.

  The tiny, one-room apartment was divided into three parts—the living area with a small couch, table and television, a sleeping area with a twin size bed, and a kitchen, with the bathroom and laundry room off to the side. It was sparsely decorated with barren walls, dull colors and worn furniture. No pictures of family, no fruity candles, no empty wine bottles, nothing that resembled a normal twenty-one-year-old’s home.

  She looked at the doorknob and frame, and then looked around the room—no obvious sign of a break-in, or a struggle of any kind.

  She walked to the couch and her eyes immediately landed on a cold cup of tea, and an open book on the coffee table. She picked it up.

  The Wiccan Way

  Her eyebrows tipped up. Abby had been studying witchcraft the night she was murdered.

  As she flipped it open, a small piece of paper tumbled to the floor. She bent over and picked it up.

  In shaky cursive were the words—Great Shadow Book of Secrets.

  "Oh, my..."

  Her stomach sank—was it possible that the rumors of the book were true? Does it really exist?

  And below that was the letter K, circled several times.

  Krestel.

>   ***

  After two solid hours of searching the cave—and finding jack-shit—Zander had responded to a four-car pile-up on the slick mountain roads. After that, he hightailed it to Abby Collier’s place to look around, only to be called out to a hold-up at the local bank an hour later.

  Now, it was after three o’clock in the afternoon, and it had already been one hell of a day. He was wired, edgy, and pissed as hell that he hadn’t been able to fully focus on the Collier case, which had dominated his thoughts all day.

  He slipped into his office, and sat down behind his computer just as a pair of knuckles rapped at the door. Officer Luke West, a former green beret, and on his fifth year at the department, poked his head in. “Nice to see you drop in.”

  Another helicopter crash joke. “Go fuck yourself, West.”

  Luke grinned, walked inside, and folded his arms across his massive chest. “How you feeling?”

  “Fine.”

  “Come on man, you fell out of the sky less than twenty-four hours ago. You sure you’re okay?”

  “Fine.”

  “Alright, alright. Any updates on what the hell happened out there?”

  Zander shook his head, grimacing. They’d cleared the wreckage and combed the area but found no signs of a fire whatsoever, or people in black cloaks, or witches for that matter. It was as if the smoke had come from nowhere.

  “It’s Krestel, man.”

  Zander felt tension begin to squeeze his shoulders. “Witches,” he muttered as he shook his head.

  West cocked his head. “What’s going on?”

  Zander tossed the book he’d found at Abby’s apartment on his desk.

  “Beginners guide to Wicca? You converting?”

  “I just found this in Abby Collier’s apartment. There were a few others, too.”

  “No shit?”

  “No shit. And there’s this…” He tossed the small piece of paper on the desk.

  West picked it up. “Great Shadow Book of Secrets.” His eyes rounded. “And the letter K.” He looked at Zander. “You know what this is, don’t you?”

  “Well I’m pretty sure you’re going to tell me that the K stands for Krestel, right?”

  “Dude, that’s the least of it. This book?” He raised the piece of paper. “Rumor has it this book contains the most evil curses, hexes and black magic known to mankind. Krestel wrote it, and passes the book to new witches who join her coven. It’s a Devil’s Den legend. Everyone knows about the book. Of course, some say the book doesn’t exist at all.” His eyes narrowed. “But others say that this book could destroy us all. Especially if it fell into the wrong hands.”

  “Aren’t Krestel’s hands bad enough?”

  “She’s had the book for decades, if she wanted to destroy us, so to speak, she would have already. But all of her curses and spells are in it—little nasty ones and big ones—and her practices, too. Potion brewing, teleportation, clairvoyance, mind control, pyrokinesis, and even necromancy—raising the dead, or demons, from the earth.”

  “What the hell is pyrokinesis?”

  “Control and manipulation of fire.”

  “Fire.” Zander leaned forward, picturing the black smoke exploding from the woods, engulfing the helicopter moments before he and Hunter crashed. “Has anyone ever seen this so-called curse-manual?”

  “Not that I’m aware of. You think the witchcraft could have something to do with Abby’s murder?”

  Zander blew out a breath. “I don’t know, man. After searching her apartment, I spoke with her coworkers at the gym. They were completely shocked. Couldn’t think of anyone who would do this to her. She hadn’t talked about any arguments or disagreements with anyone lately. No boyfriend, not casually dating anyone. They did say she’d become very withdrawn, and dark, the last few months.”

  “If she was studying to become a witch, that’s quite a life change.”

  “Right.”

  West paused, then said, “You know, Hatchet Hollow is supposed to be haunted.”

  “So I hear. But I can tell you one thing, there were no witches hanging out in there when we found the body.”

  “Maybe you just didn’t see them.”

  Zander shook his head. “Am I the only person around here that doesn’t believe in witches, or voodoo, or any of that bullshit?”

  West shrugged. “Got to be open-minded, man. Anyway, you find anything else interesting in her apartment?”

  “Her laptop. Found her cell phone this morning when we searched her car. Already gave both to Hunter to be analyzed.” He leaned back, frustrated. “Either she was meeting up with someone who was up to no good, or someone was stalking her, or she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time”

  “So it could have been anyone on the trail that day.”

  Zander nodded. “There’s no security cameras around the trailhead, or parking lot. I’ve asked Hunter to check with local hunters to see if any have game cameras up in the area.”

  “What a task.”

  Zander nodded and glanced out the door as two suits passed by. “Where’s our little bank robber?”

  “Little Jesse James is booked in cell three. His folks called lawyers.” He glanced into the hall. “Who just got here, apparently.”

  Zander powered on his computer, and shook his head. “Idiot kid. Where the hell did he get a fake gun like that anyway?”

  “Bought it online. Looks real, doesn’t it?”

  He nodded. The seventeen-year-old bank robbing punk had pulled a plastic gun on the bank clerk, demanding every penny in the drawer. The only thing was, the punk hadn’t planned on a former green beret to be standing in the next line over. Luke tackled the kid, and had him pig-tied in under a minute. The whole thing had been a shit-show and ate up three damn hours of his life.

  “How the hell did you know it was a fake?”

  Luke cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t insult me.”

  Just then, Deena popped her head in. “Hey, Stone.” She nodded at Luke and then turned back to Zander. “About the guy Raven Cane passed on the trail yesterday morning before she found the body. I did a DMV search of all the local trucks ending in XPG, and compared the height and weight to what Raven remembered, and I got a hit.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Johnny Campos, age twenty-seven, lives a few miles from the trail. He has a record.”

  “What kind of record?”

  “A little B&E, theft… and assault.”

  “Assault?”

  “Yep. Got a little slap-happy with a girlfriend a few years ago.”

  “Interesting.”

  “Thought so too. He works at a bar on the outskirts of town.”

  “Let’s check him out, and see if he saw anyone, or anything weird that morning, too.”

  Deena nodded. “I’ll take this one, you’ve got enough on your plate right now. I’ll call you after I chat with him later today.”

  “Sounds good.”

  CHAPTER 10

  AS SHE REACHED the peak of Black Bear Mountain, spears of sunlight shot out from the heavy cloud cover above. Dusk was on the horizon, and if the weatherman was correct, more rain was on the way, which would do nothing to help her foul mood and exhaustion, after another long-ass day at work.

  After leaving Abby’s apartment, she’d met Dixie at the office to work on all of the other pressing cases they had going on. She hadn’t heard anything new regarding the Collier case, nor had she heard from Zander. Not that she expected to—although she’d embarrassingly fantasized about it all day. Despite her hope that maybe, just maybe, there was something sparking between them, she reminded herself that Zander had come to her house to return her pocket knife, and that was it. There was nothing else to it.

  Nothing else.

  But Zander hadn’t dominated all of her thoughts all day. As much as she’d tried to focus, she couldn’t get Abby Collier, or the weird meeting with Claire Banks out of her head. Was there some sort of connection there? Was it possible Claire knew somethin
g? And based on what she’d seen on Claire’s computer screen on the way out… was it possible that Claire was involved?

  And then there was Abby’s apartment, and the fact that she had been studying witchcraft. Did that somehow tie into her murder?

  She had that nagging feeling that she was missing something, something that was right under her nose. And that feeling drove her absolutely crazy.

  She parked between two pine trees, got out, and walked across the small gravel parking lot. One positive to the day was that the temperature had climbed to the mid-sixties, which apparently was patio weather according to the ladies of Black Rose. She pushed through the doors of the Black Crow Tavern and inhaled the sweet scent of beer and cedar.

  “Hey, Raven girl.” Chuck, a proud police veteran, owner of the bar, and Zander Stone’s grandfather, smiled and wiped his hands on his apron.

  She smiled. “Hey, Chuck. Good to see you. Scar and Harley here?”

  He nodded toward the back. “Since four o’clock. Fiona, too. Out on the patio. I pulled a heater out for them. They’ve got a pitcher. Want a glass?”

  “Yes, please.”

  He reached into the cooler and handed her an ice-cold pint glass.

  “Thanks.”

  She walked through the small, dark bar—which was officially her favorite place in Devil’s Den. It was a typical small-town, country bar where everyone knew everyone’s name. The renovated log cabin sat on top of the tallest mountain in Devil’s Den, Black Bear Mountain, and had a hell of a view of the Great Shadow Mountains. With its dark wood floors, massive log beams, and old street signs, the bar fit right in with the nature that surrounded it.

  The bar was also a favorite gathering place of the local police department, and Raven felt a twinge of disappointment when she hadn’t seen Zander’s jacked-up truck in the parking lot.

  She pushed through the back door.

  “Hey, Rave!” Harley Quinn, Scar’s assistant, rose her pint glass in the air.

  Raven smiled as she walked across the patio that stretched under massive Oak trees, strung with lights. The few beams of light from the last of the day’s sun shone directly on the table, sparkling off the pitcher of beer.