by Terri Reid
“Mutual admiration,” she replied. “Now why did you come over here in the first place? Certainly not to hear my whining.”
“You weren’t whining. You were sad, and you had a perfect right to be sad,” Henry said. “But, I did come for a purpose. Rowan and I are trying to figure out the mystery of the missing men. I was wondering if you might have some extra Joseph DNA laying around.”
“Are you asking me if I had him pee in a cup?” she asked.
He chuckled and shook his head. “No, a strand of hair would do.”
“As a matter of fact, I do. He left his clothing from the other night in the barn,” she said. “I put it away so no one would see it. I’d bet it’s got his DNA all over it.”
“That’s great,” he said. Then he ran his hand through his hair. “But she still hasn’t explained to me how we are going to test his DNA.”
Hazel shook her head. “You think that with Rowan’s PhD in Biochemistry she hasn’t figured out how to use her abilities to break down DNA yet?”
Henry shook his head in amazement. “Are you kidding me?”
Hazel grinned. “Yes. Yes, I am,” she said. “She picked up a used DNA analyzer a year ago when she was doing some work with hybrids.”
“Have I mentioned how much I love and admire your sister?” he said fondly.
“You kind of act that way,” Hazel teased. “Speaking only in a purely academic way.”
Henry laughed and nodded. “Okay, I’ll take his stuff and find some samples. We got a sample from Gabriella before we left her room, and we want to compare them.”
“You two are like mad scientists together,” she replied. “I can’t wait to see what you find out.”
Chapter Forty-two
Hazel sat in an overstuffed recliner, a box of cookies in her lap and a glass of milk on the end table next to her. The television was on, and a romantic movie was playing on the screen. With a shake of her head, she lifted the remote and pressed a button. Suddenly, a horror flick was playing.
Agnes looked up from where she was sitting at the table working on her lap-top. “Hazel, sweetheart,” she inquired. “What are you doing?”
Hazel picked up another cookie and took a bite. “I’m watching TV,” she said disconsolately.
Agnes pushed her laptop back on the table, slipped out of her chair and walked over to stand behind Hazel’s chair. “What kind of program?” she asked.
Hazel sighed. “The story of my life,” she said.
“Is that the name of the movie?” Agnes asked.
Hazel chuckled and shook her head. “No, I have a chick flick on one channel,” she said, lifting up the remote and demonstrating. “And every time the couple gets close to kissing, I change it to this horror flick where everyone is screaming and running away from each other. Because that, mommy dear, is the story of my life.”
“Well, it’s a good thing you’re not being overly dramatic or anything,” Agnes teased.
Hazel stuck her tongue out at her mother in response.
Agnes leaned forward to gaze at the television. “Is it a werewolf movie?” she asked.
Hazel gasped and looked up at her mother. “Wait! How did you know?” she asked. “Did Rowan tell you?”
Agnes came around the chair, pulled up a brightly-colored hassock and sat down in front of her daughter. “No, Rowan didn’t tell me,” she said. “My mother told me.”
“She came back as a ghost?” Hazel asked, clicking off the television and giving her whole attention to her mother.
Agnes picked up a cookie from the box and took a bite. “No, she told me when she was still alive,” she said. “But she made me promise to keep it a secret.”
“So, why spill the beans now?” Hazel replied.
“Because you went to help Joseph in the village,” she said. “And you’ve been conspicuous about avoiding telling me anything about it.”
“He made us promise,” Hazel said.
Agnes smiled. “Same goes,” she said with a laugh.
Hazel smiled for a moment, then shook her head sadly. “And that was three days ago,” she said. “And we haven’t heard anything from Joseph since.”
Agnes’s eyes softened in sympathy. “Three days?” she asked. “Oh sweetheart, I’m so sorry.”
Hazel shrugged. “I always fall in love too easily,” she said. “I’ll get over it. I always do.”
Agnes reached out and stroked her daughter’s hair. “But this was a little different than usual, wasn’t it?”
Tears welled up in Hazel’s eyes, and she nodded slowly. “It was always a game before,” she whispered. “Like being part of a chick flick. I’d flirt and tease, and they’d do the same. Then we’d go our separate ways but stay friends. No harm, no foul.”
“But none of them touched your heart,” Agnes said.
Hazel sighed. “None of them hurt like this,” she admitted. “And none of them confused me like this. Suddenly, he’s gone. Suddenly, he’s too busy.”
“Well, maybe he is,” Agnes said. “Too busy.”
“I guess that could be true,” Hazel acknowledged with a nod. “But, you know, texting can be done in a second.”
“Maybe he doesn’t know what to say,” Agnes said.
“Why are you on his side?” Hazel asked, leaning forward and placing her head on her mother’s shoulder.
Agnes patted her daughter’s back and sighed. “I’m on your side,” she said. “I’m just trying to help you see all of the possibilities.”
“The main possibility is that I was an idiot and saw something that wasn’t there,” Hazel said sadly. “And now Joseph is embarrassed for me.”
“The look I saw on that man’s face when he carried you to the house after the explosion had nothing to do with embarrassment,” Agnes said. “Why don’t you text him?”
“It’s his turn,” Hazel complained.
Agnes laughed. “But you’re the one sitting here, wondering.”
“What should I say?”
“Why don’t you ask about the child you helped?” Agnes said. “Then you’re just being concerned.”
“And not desperate,” Hazel said excitedly. “Mom, you’re brilliant.”
Agnes placed a kiss on Hazel’s forehead. “I try, my dear. I really try.”
Chapter Forty-three
“How is Gabriella doing?”
Joseph stared down at his phone for a long time, tapping the side with his thumb. It was a simple question. It was very direct and clear. She wasn’t asking about him. She was asking about the child she’d helped.
He wanted her to ask about him.
He placed his phone on his desk and pushed it to the side. He couldn’t think about Hazel right now. He had other, more urgent, things to concentrate on. After three days of searching, he’d been unable to locate Helga. He knew that in her wolf state, she could easily travel thirty miles away from the village, but she should have left some tracks somewhere. And he hadn’t been able to find anything at all.
He unconsciously reached for the phone again, looked at the message and sighed. He typed, “She’s doing much better. Thank you.”
He stared at his response. Even to him it sounded formal and distant. She didn’t deserve that. She had done nothing wrong. He continued to type. “I miss you.”
“No,” he mumbled, moving to erase that last sentence, but instead hit the button to send. “Crap!”
But he couldn’t unsend the text.
“Same goes.” The new text from Hazel appeared on his screen moments later.
He could hear her voice, see her smile, picture the way her eyes would crinkle when she smiled. “Same goes,” he said softly.
A knock on his door had him placing the phone, screen side down, on his desk.
“Yes?” he called out.
Donovan peered inside. “Got a minute?” he asked.
Joseph nodded. “Yeah, come in,” he said. “Take a seat.”
Closing the door behind him, Donovan sat down across f
rom Joseph and took out his phone. He pressed a button, and electronic noises began to play. Then Donovan leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Have you ever checked this room for listening or recording devices?” he asked softly.
Joseph shook his head. “No,” he whispered. “Why?”
Donovan quickly shook his head, then pulled out another device from his jacket pocket. “Shut off your phone and your computer,” he whispered.
Joseph reached over and signed off his computer and then reached for his phone. He stared at Hazel’s response one more time, then powered down the phone. “Off,” he whispered.
Donovan stood up and slowly walked around the room, the device in his hand making soft, intermittent sounds as he moved. Then the sounds began to get louder and closer together. Finally, as he moved to a picture of City Hall on the wall just behind Joseph’s desk, the sound peaked and became one long blast. Donovan turned off the device and studied the picture. Then he smiled and nodded. “And we have a winner,” he said, lifting the picture frame off the wall.
The small camera was attached to the back of the picture, and ironically, the small lens hole was located where the mayor’s office window was situated in the picture.
A small wire was connected to the camera and was fed through a small hole in the wall.
“Audio and video,” Joseph said quietly, coming over to the other side of the picture. “I had no idea.”
“Yeah, well most police chiefs don’t have to worry about being watched,” Donovan whispered. “But in this town, if you’re not part of the coven, you’re a suspect.”
Joseph turned to Donovan and leaned against the wall. “So, are you my friend who’s come here to show me that I’m being set up?” he whispered. “Or is this whole thing a ploy of yours to get me to trust you?”
Donovan smiled. “Good question,” he said. “And you wouldn’t believe me if I said that I’m on your side.”
“No, but I’d believe you if you told me that this was a ploy to gain my confidence,” Joseph said, returning the smile. “You want to confess?”
Chuckling softly, Donovan put the picture back on the wall. “You might want to remodel your office,” he suggested. “And perhaps move the credenza with the stereo equipment right under this picture.”
Joseph nodded. “I tend to play really bad opera music when I’m not in the office,” he said. “Really bad.”
“Good choice,” Donovan replied, turning up the white noise on his phone and placing it on the thick bottom of the frame. “I want to show you something through your window.”
They walked across the room to the window, which was out of the range of the camera.
“What’s up?” Joseph asked.
“The coven is planning a big ceremony for the Master,” Donovan said. “We still have a few months until the curse comes due, but this ceremony is supposed to strengthen the members of the coven.”
“Where are they holding it?” Joseph asked.
Donovan shook his head. “They aren’t trusting me with the location yet,” he said. “But I’m guessing it will be someplace rural— either a forested area or in Kettle Moraine on the bluffs.”
“Do you know when?” Joseph asked.
“Yeah, the next full moon,” Donovan said. “Which coincidentally is a lunar eclipse, so it’s going to be…”
“A blood moon,” Joseph finished. “Yes, I know. And it’s next Thursday night.”
“So, if you could make sure the Willoughbys are covered…” Donovan began.
“I can’t make that promise,” Joseph said.
“What the hell?” Donovan asked. “There’s nothing more important than making sure they’re protected, especially if the entire coven is gathered near their neck of the woods.”
Joseph nodded. “I agree,” he said. “You need to tell them about it.”
“I can’t,” Donovan said. “I’m risking enough talking to you. They have me watched wherever I go, and even my electronic communication is bugged. I will only cause them further problems if I try and contact them.”
“Okay, I’ll let them know,” Joseph agreed. “But I can’t promise to be there with them. I will if I can…”
Donovan studied him for a moment. “You’re not running scared, are you?” he asked.
“No, I’m not,” Joseph replied angrily. Then he sighed and shook his head. “But I guess I can understand why you might think that. No, I will protect them if I can, but things might be beyond my control. I’ll do my best.”
“Can I help with this out of your control thing?” Donovan asked.
Joseph shook his head. “No. No one can help.”
Chapter Forty-four
Cat drove the Jeep down Main Street and parked across the street from the police station. Everything had been quiet at the house, and with the store closed, she needed to get out or she would go crazy. Joseph had come by the store earlier that week, had taken photos of the outside and had bagged some evidence near the front entrance. Following up on the photos and evidence was her excuse for driving into town.
She put the Jeep into park and reached for the door handle when she saw Donovan walking out of the station. Moving the seat back so the body of the Jeep hid her from view, she watched through her side mirror as Donovan quickly jogged across the parking lot and moved toward his car.
Her heart pounded, and while part of her prayed that he wouldn’t glance over and notice her, another part hoped that he would. Her pulse increased, and the palms of her hands grew sweaty as she watched him moving closer to his car. But he didn’t falter in his steps or even pause for a moment, but hurried to his car, sliding into the driver’s seat without a pause. In a moment, he had started his car and was driving away.
“Even if he had noticed me,” she mumbled, “he probably wouldn’t have come over. He made it clear the other night that he isn’t interested in what we think of him.”
She absently rubbed her hand over her heart. It still hurt. She had so wanted him to say that it had all been a lie, that he’d been on their side from the very beginning. She wanted him to ask for her forgiveness and tell her that he’d sacrificed to save her family. She wanted it to be real.
“There is no such thing as happily-ever-after and fairytales,” she muttered.
“That’s a fairly cynical thing to say.”
She gasped and turned to see Donovan standing next to the Jeep with the passenger side door open. “How did you?” she asked.
He slid in and closed the door behind himself. “I made a U-turn and pulled up behind you,” he said.
“I didn’t think you even saw me,” she replied.
He met her eyes, and she shivered at the intensity. “Cat, I don’t need to see you,” he said softly. “I can feel your presence.”
She looked away from him and stared out the windshield. “Get out,” she ordered.
“What?” he asked, surprised.
“I said get out,” she repeated. Then she turned back to him, her eyes smoldering with anger.
“What did I do?” he asked.
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, Cat,” she mocked. “I don’t need to see you. I can feel your presence.” She stared at him for a long moment. “Do you really think I’m stupid or desperate enough to fall for that line?”
“It’s not a line,” he said.
“Oh, give me a break,” she retorted. “I’m sure you’ve used it on other women hundreds of times.”
He reached over and grabbed her arm. “There have been no other women,” he said. “There has only been you.”
She placed her hand over his. “Fine, prove it,” she said. “Let me read your thoughts.”
He immediately pulled his hand away. “I can’t, Cat,” he said.
“Why Donovan?” she asked. “Afraid I’d find a catalogue of other women who’ve heard that line?”
He shook his head. “No, you have to believe me,” he began.
“No. No, I don’t,” she said. “I don’t have to believe you. And,
quite honestly, I can’t afford to believe you, because believing you puts my family at risk.”
He leaned forward. “I saved you,” he said. “I heard about the explosion, and I saved you.”
“And maybe that was your plan all along,” she replied. “To come out looking like our rescuer so we would welcome you back with open arms, and you would plan our demise.”
“How can you believe that of me?” he asked. “We used to love each other.”
“Used to, being the important phrase here,” Cat replied. “You left. You walked away. And you joined them. You got your power and you got your money.” Her voice softened, and she sighed. “I really do hope those things made you happy, Donovan. But, please, go away.”
He started to speak, then looked at the pain in her eyes and nodded. “I’ll go,” he said. “But don’t give up on me, Cat.”
“Have a nice life, Donovan,” she replied. Once he was out, she turned the Jeep on and pulled down the road. Her conversation with Joseph could wait for another day. She wiped a tear off her cheek and took a deep breath. All she wanted to do was go home and cry.
Chapter Forty-five
“Okay, I’m in the library,” Hazel said as she sat in the middle of the couch with her eyes closed. Henry was seated on one side of her, holding one hand, and Rowan was seated on the other side, holding her other hand. Then Rowan and Henry held hands, forming a complete circle.
“What am I looking for again?” Hazel asked.
“Something that has to do with Rumspringa,” Henry said. “Or anything close to that. It could be Rumspringen or Rumschpringe or even Herumspringen.”
Hazel nodded and concentrated on her remote viewing of the shelves in Henrich’s library. She quickly skimmed the spines of the books but didn’t find anything close to what Henry had been looking for. “Okay, there are no titles with that word in it,” she reported.
Henry shook his head. “Yeah, I don’t think there would be titles,” he agreed. “But there may be some information about it in some old journals.”
Hazel nodded. “Okay, so if they don’t use that word in particular, I’m just looking for some kind of rite of passage, right?”
