Pawsitively Swindled

by Melissa Erin Jackson

  Another long pause.

  “Dang it,” he said, then hit a button on his steering wheel. “Call Juan Reyes.”

  His car’s phone system obliged.

  “Hey, Owen,” Reyes said. “What’s up?”

  “How soon could you get your guys to Belhaven?” the chief asked. “I’ve got sources telling me Daniels is likely to make a move soon.”

  Reyes’s tone became more serious. “An hour? How reliable are these sources?”

  The chief gave Amber a quick scan, then focused his gaze forward again. “Very.”

  “I’ll make the call then,” Reyes said. “You coming too? They might need backup.”

  “Just say the word.”

  “I hope we get this guy,” Reyes said. “Doesn’t deserve to wear a badge.”

  “Sure doesn’t. See you, Reyes.” The chief disconnected the call. “Now what?”

  “Drop me off at home,” Amber said. “I’ve got maybe half an hour to convince Daniels this whole plan of theirs is about to fall apart.”

  The chief drove faster.

  Amber, Willow, and Aunt G sat next to each other at the dining room table. A few minutes ago, Misty Farnsworth had replied to a text with a phone number for the crime lab. It was a little after two in the afternoon.

  A young woman answered the phone. “Thank you for calling the Lyles Crime Lab. How may I direct your call?”

  “May I speak to Victoria Sullivan, please? I’m a friend of Nicolas Daniels,” Amber said.

  The young woman sounded unsure when she said, “One moment, please.”

  Amber put the phone on speaker just as Victoria answered. Willow hit record on her own phone lying beside it. “Hi, Victoria. This is a friend of Chief Daniels of Marbleglen. He said if I had a sample that needed … how did he put it … ‘special care,’ that I should give you a call.”

  “Of course!” Victoria said. “Did he discuss the rate for expedited processing with you?”

  “He did. It’s more than reasonable,” Amber said.

  “Perfect,” Victoria said. “Whenever you’re ready, just drop it by the office and we’ll get you taken care of right away.”

  “Thank you so much,” Amber said. “Say, have you spoken to him lately?”

  This gave Victoria pause. “No. Not in a couple weeks. Why do you ask?”

  “Oh, I haven’t either,” Amber said quickly. “I just heard he started as chief of police recently after fighting for a promotion for so long. I just wanted to know how he’s faring.”

  “I’m sure he’s doing fine,” Victoria said. “He’s very … adaptable.”

  Clearly. “Thank you for your time. I’ll be in touch.”

  After disconnecting the call, Willow and Aunt Gretchen spent the next twenty or so minutes listening to Willow’s recording. Amber had a hard enough time altering appearances that she wasn’t even going to attempt to tackle one as complicated as voice. They worked through a series of spells until Amber’s voice became unnervingly similar to Victoria’s.

  Checking the maps again to confirm Daniels was in his office, Amber called the Marbleglen police department. Her altered voice got her connected to Daniels in a matter of seconds.

  “Jane,” Daniels said in greeting.

  Amber appropriately bristled at that. “Oh, don’t start that now. I thought we were friends.”

  Goose bumps broke out on her arms at hearing a voice other than her own coming out of her mouth. She wasn’t sure which unsettled her more: a different voice or a different face.

  Then she remembered that Neil Penhallow had committed to a glamour on a level that exceeded even deep method actors, had taken over not just the face and voice of someone else, but his entire life. Neil had slipped into someone else’s skin as a way to weasel his way into Amber’s mother’s life.

  Daniels scoffed, pulling Amber back to the present. “What can I do for you today, friend?”

  “So a little birdy just told me that not only is Simon Ricinus not in jail, but nice and cozy at home, and only had to pay twenty thousand dollars to get released,” Amber said. “I have to say, this makes me very worried about the stability of our deal.”

  Amber could almost hear the way Daniels’s posture stiffened.

  “Nothing has changed, Victoria, I promise you that,” he said. “Simon getting house arrest was a hiccup, yes, but we covered our tracks. We just need to sit tight until his court date. He’ll plead not guilty, it’ll likely go to trial, and it’ll be a year minimum before he ever sees the inside of another court room. In the meantime, Marbleglen will have its deal, and you’ll have your money. We just need to be patient.”

  “I can be patient,” Amber said, “but I’m also doubling my fee.”

  “Half a million?” Daniels whisper-shouted into the phone. “Are you insane? We don’t have that kind of money.”

  “I suggest you find it,” Amber said. “I wonder if it’s more lucrative for me to sell the video to several news stations, or to offer it to the highest bidder for the chance at exclusive rights …”

  “You can’t,” he said. “We had an agreement.”

  “And part of that agreement was Simon going to prison. You’ve already failed,” she said.

  “We still have the gun,” he said quickly. “That’ll tie all this back to you, you know.”

  “Not if I get to it first,” she said. “Lawyer husband with connections in high places, remember? Well, and friends in low places. The gun is in Belhaven, right? Oh, you know what? Don’t tell me. I’ll find it. I’ve got it narrowed down to three places anyway. It was lovely doing business with you. Sorry it couldn’t work out.” Amber didn’t end the call just yet.

  “Tory, we can talk about this,” he said. “Tory? Victoria!” He cursed, then hung up.

  Amber stood and walked to the maps, dialing the chief as she went. Aunt Gretchen stood with her, arms crossed. Willow remained at the table, chewing on a thumbnail.

  “I’m watching the maps now,” Amber said when the chief answered. “I can’t say for sure that it worked, but Daniels sounded really anxious.”

  The Daniels dot was still in his office. Amber wondered if he was calling one of the others. Her gaze danced between the Sable and Tillman dots, wondering which one—if any—would make a move. She wedged a thumbnail between her teeth.

  A full minute went by with no movement from any of them. The chief was still on the line with her. She could picture him sitting in his office or in his car, fingertips strumming a desk or steering wheel.

  Had Amber been wrong to think Daniels could get spooked by one phone call? Had he called Mayor Sable and she, clearly being the most levelheaded of the three, talked him off the proverbial ledge? All it would take was one call back to the real Victoria Sullivan and Amber’s plan would implode.

  Like the chief said, there were so many things in this plan that could go wrong.

  Amber cast a worried look at her aunt.

  Willow stood so quickly behind them, her chair nearly toppled over. She quickly walked to the map, a finger outstretched. “There!”

  Amber whirled toward the map to see the Daniels dot was on the move, and quickly. “Chief, Daniels just left.”

  “On it,” he said. “I’ll call Reyes and then call you back. I’ll keep you on speaker while I drive.”

  Amber paced in the small space between her dining room table and the wall, waiting for the chief to call her back. She was a little worried that Daniels’s dot, instead of heading straight south through to Belhaven, wouldn’t leave the town at all, but head east in the direction of Molly’s house. But he kept a steady pace straight into Edgehill.

  Ten agonizing minutes later, the chief called her back.

  Amber was too anxious to give him updates on the dots’ whereabouts, worried something was going to go horribly wrong and it would all be her fault, so she continued to pace while Aunt Gretchen and Willow played navigator, the phone left on the dining room table on speaker.

  After twenty-five
minutes, Aunt G said, “Daniels just arrived at Beary Important Storage. Major cross streets are Plummer and Fairway.”

  “Got it,” the chief said. “Thanks, ladies.”

  He hung up.

  And now Amber had to wait—again. Her low-budget, low-danger plan was the most sensible one, and she knew that, but being a civilian was decidedly less exciting.

  A few minutes later, Willow said, “Uhhh …”

  Amber hurried back over, worried the map would reveal something awful had happened to the chief, even though she knew that made no sense.

  As she watched the maps, the dots begin to disappear. First Sable, then Tillman, Molly, and finally Daniels. All three Blackwood women cast simultaneous locator spells, but none of the dots reappeared.

  It wasn’t until their flurry of spell attempts stopped that Molly’s dot popped back up on the map. Amber held her breath, waiting for the others, but still, only Molly’s remained. She was once again in Edgehill.

  Stranger still, she was in the abandoned neighborhood on the edge of town.

  When Amber’s phone rang a moment later, all three of them jumped. Amber snatched it up, hoping to see the chief’s name on screen, but an unfamiliar number displayed instead.

  “Hello?” she said.

  “Amber?” came the shaky male voice. “Amber, is that you? Can you hear me?”

  “Connor?” Amber asked, and Willow froze in Amber’s peripheral vision. “Are you okay?”

  “No,” he whispered. “I messed up, Amber. I messed up royally. When I said I went out of town to work on a story? That was true. I just didn’t tell you that you and your family are the story.”

  “What?”

  “I’m so sorry,” he said. “Molly and I have been working on it together—she had to put the Simon story on hold since he got arrested and she can’t get in to see him,” Connor said, sounding no less harried than when this conversation started. “We’ve researched your parents and the fire that killed them, and even tried to find Delin Springs but couldn’t find it because, well, you know …”

  Amber’s heart was racing so hard, she couldn’t formulate words.

  “All that research eventually led to this abandoned neighborhood on the border between Edgehill and Belhaven,” he said. “Do you know anything about it?”

  “Yes,” she managed to croak out.

  “Okay, good,” he said, then gasped. “That’s where we are right now. Me and Molly, I mean. Some guy, he said his name is Penhallow? He found us here and was asking all these questions about you and then he … God, Amber. He took Molly. I’m hiding behind one of the few houses here, but he’s going to find me eventually. I can hear Molly….”

  A high-pitched scream sounded in the background. Amber’s blood went cold.

  “Oh God,” Connor groaned. “I don’t know what to do.”

  But Amber was already on the move, her aunt and sister behind her. “We’re on our way.”

  Chapter 26

  Willow drove while Amber kept an eye on the map she’d hastily removed from the wall. Occasionally the Molly dot would move an inch or two, but otherwise it hadn’t left the abandoned neighborhood.

  They were silent, dread likely coating Willow and Aunt G’s throats as much as it was coating Amber’s. Why was a Penhallow here? Amber’s only consolation was that the books had been moved, buried in spells, and no one could even open them aside from Amber and Willow. The books were safe.

  Connor and Molly, however, were another matter.

  Willow got to the end of Toyger, stopped at the sign for a mere moment, and then made a right onto Korat. When the two-story farmhouse with the sagging reddish roof appeared on the corner, Amber said, “Turn left here!”

  Willow hardly slowed for the turn and Amber grabbed hold of the “Oh crap!” handle to keep herself in her seat. Aunt G let out a little “oof” in the back. Amber didn’t see a car anywhere. No people. No movement.

  Amber sent a text to Connor, hoping he had his phone on silent, thinking it would be best not to talk here if a Penhallow could be nearby listening in. We’re here. Where are you? Where’s Molly?

  In less than a minute—given how fast Willow was driving down the road, the car’s tires kicking up a thick cloud of dust behind them—they reached Zelda’s old house. Molly’s dot, apparently, was here.

  “Stop!” The moment the car did, Amber shot out and ran around the back of the house, hoping she’d find Connor crouched behind it. There were nothing but weeds and debris behind the house. A few feet away, a dilapidated swing set had been overtaken by brambles.

  Someone screamed nearby, the sound coming from the left.

  Amber took off running.

  Once she’d cleared the house, she glanced over to see Willow and Aunt G were on the move, too. Amber cut across the sea of cracked cement, overgrown weeds, and large fallen tree branches. She joined them on the street. They ran, scanning the street, the few remaining houses, and the forest that had sprung up behind the old structures.

  A scream sounded again, but this time from behind them.

  Amber skidded to a stop and whirled back toward the direction of Zelda’s house and Willow’s car. Three of the vehicle’s doors still stood open. There was no one else on the street. Aunt G and Willow had stopped running too. The Blackwoods formed a triangle, backs facing each other to keep an eye out for threats from all sides.

  The scream sounded again and again and again until it felt as if it were coming from all around them. Then, just as quickly, it stopped. Amber’s ears rang in the silence.

  “Amber!” someone called out, followed by the sound of pounding footsteps.

  From around the corner, the same corner Amber and Edgar had turned down on the day they’d found Zelda’s doll, Connor and Molly ran toward them at breakneck speeds. Connor had hold of Molly’s hand and was pulling her along; she kept looking over her shoulder as she ran. They were filthy and had a wild look in their eyes.

  Looking at Aunt G, Amber said, “Stay here!” then took off running again, Willow sprinting to keep up with her.

  “Amber, no!” Connor yelled, waving his free arm. “Go back! Go back!”

  She didn’t heed his warning. If a Penhallow was after them, running back wasn’t an option. Amber needed to get herself and Willow between the non-witches and the Penhallow. Amber and Willow reached them at the same time.

  “Are you okay?” Amber asked, breath ragged.

  Molly’s white-blonde hair had been in a ponytail, but was askew now and her face was smudged with dirt. Connor looked no better, with a cut above his right eye. Blood was trickling down the side of his face, which was also smeared with dirt, and there was a tear in the right pant leg of his khakis.

  “Amber! Willow!” Aunt G called out from behind them, and Amber looked up to see a figure at the end of the street. It looked like a man, given the height and build, but Amber couldn’t be sure. The person was several hundred feet away and progressing at a casual pace.

  Amber froze.

  Molly looked behind her and let out an all-too-familiar scream.

  Grabbing Molly by the shoulders, Amber gave her small frame a hard shake to get her to snap out of it. “Go to my aunt, okay?” She switched her focus. “You too, Connor.”

  “But—” he started to say.

  Willow forcefully pushed him behind her. “Go!”

  Finally, Molly and Connor complied and ran off again. Amber glanced back and saw Aunt G motioning for them to hurry, then they bolted toward the car together.

  When Amber faced the figure, it wasn’t moving any faster than it had been before, but Amber could see now that it was a man who approached. “Who are you?” she called out.

  A voice carried over the distance with ease. “Damien Penhallow.”

  “What do you want, Damien?”

  “I want what we all want,” he said, sounding mildly annoyed. “I want the Henbane book.”

  In two blinks, he was a mere foot away from them, and Amber stifled a gas
p. Aunt G cried out from behind them and Amber whirled to find Molly missing and Connor with Aunt G in a choke hold.

  Amber’s magic surged in her veins, but before she could react, Connor’s face sloughed off and revealed a woman who looked surprisingly similar to Damien. It had all been a trick to lure them out here. How many more were there?

  “Meet my sister Devra,” Damien said.

  Fists clenched, Amber glared at Damien. “Let her go.”

  “We will, but she has to give Devra the location of the book,” Damien said. “Or you could tell me. And then we’ll be on our way.”

  “Was that call Amber got actually from Connor Declan?” Willow asked, her voice low and shaky.

  “I messed up, Amber. I messed up royally,” Damien said in a voice identical to Connor’s. “You and your aunt gave us the idea, actually,” he said, smiling at Willow. “You see, whatever you were doing here a few weeks ago, Amber, you left your signature all over this place.”

  Amber winced. She’d worried about this very thing but hadn’t taken any precautions.

  “Devra and I finally found it a few days ago,” Damien said, “and it led us back to that kitschy little shop of yours. We’ve been listening outside ever since.”

  Which meant that they’d just missed the day that Amber, Willow, and Aunt G went to Quill to hide the books. They hadn’t soundproofed Amber’s apartment as diligently as they had when Kieran had been prowling the streets. Heck, she’d gotten spooked weeks ago when it felt as if someone had been watching her, she’d set alarms that night, and then had never set them again—lured into the false sense of security that if a Penhallow was nearby, she would know. Kieran had left his molasses-like magical signature everywhere he went. But Amber was realizing now that she’d known Kieran had been in Edgehill, because Kieran had wanted her to.

  Who knew how many conversations Damien and Devra had overheard simply because Amber had thought she was safe?