BONES OF A WITCH (Detective Marcella Witch's Series. Book 4)

by Dana Donovan

  “Okay, fine.” I turned and headed back to the kitchen to fix myself a cup of coffee. “But I don’t understand. If you wanted me to practice witchcraft so much, why didn’t you tell me about the grimoire?”

  “I didn’t tell you,” she said, following me, “because I thought you knew about it.”

  “How was I supposed to know about it?”

  “It’s disguised as a dictionary. You mean to tell me that all this time you haven’t needed to look something up in the dictionary?”

  “That’s right.”

  “What, you know every word and its meaning in the entire unabridged version of the New World Dictionary?”

  I couldn’t resist. “Yes. I do.”

  She tossed her hands up in defeat. “Get your coffee and come on. We’re going.”

  “Where to?”

  “Gloucester. Damn it, Tony, haven’t you heard a single word I said?”

  Sometimes I can argue with Lilith, and sometimes I can’t. I’m beginning to think that the only times I can is when she wants to argue; and then it’s only to serve her perverted sense of entertainment. This, however, was not one of those times. I grabbed my coffee, dumped it into a to-go mug and followed her out the door.

  Gloucester is barely an hour’s drive out of New Castle, and a pleasant, leisurely one at that. And though I knew it was important to get together with Carlos and Dominic as soon as possible to discuss the pressing situation with Lemas Winterhutch; more important still was Lilith’s state of mind and well-being. If she felt that going to the beach to collect a bit of sand was so vital, then so be it.

  Besides a couple of early morning joggers and a young treasure seeker sweeping the sands with a metal detector, the beach belonged to me, Lilith and a dozen or so scrappy gulls working the surf and gliding the incoming ocean breeze.

  We left the car and started along the beach hand-in-hand at the point where the high water line met dry sand. There, the smell of salt and sea mixed easily with the aroma of seasoned sausage and french-fries spilling from the vent stack of a lonely concession stand up on the boardwalk.

  It made me think of Carlos and how he would not be able to resist the temptation of the lure. Within minutes of our arrival, he would have scoffed down a sausage or two and had every seagull within a mile of us swooping in to steal or scavenge what they could from his oversized bucket of fries. In a way, it sort of made the trip seem unfulfilling. Of course, I wouldn’t have mentioned that to Lilith. I believe she actually found our walk romantic, a measure hard to score with her on most days.

  “Here,” she said, stopping out of the blue on a non-descript patch of bald sand. “This is the perfect sand.” She reached into her pocket, pulled out a matchbox and proceeded to fill it with sand.

  “That?” I pointed at the pitiful vessel. “That’s all you brought for the sand?”

  She looked up at me from bended knee, the gentle wind teasing her hair in unruly ways that girls don’t usually like. “Yes. Why?”

  “Well, it’s just that we’ve come all the way out here because you complained you don’t have any beach sand, and all you intend to bring back is a lousy matchbox full of the stuff?”

  “It’s all I need.”

  “You’re going to need more later, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, and when I do I’ll get more.”

  “Why not get it now?”

  “Because then it won’t be fresh.”

  “Fresh? It’s sand. It’s like three billion years old. How fresh can it be?”

  I turned away in disgust and faced the sea, feeling like I could jump in and swim until I crossed the Atlantic and washed up on the coast of France, where even though I don’t speak the language, I might have an easier time communicating with the people there. I turned again to Lilith. “You know one thing I…Lilith?”

  She was gone. I spun about in a full three-sixty, panning the surf from one end to the other, but she was nowhere in sight. The concession stand stood a full hundred plus yards away on an elevated boardwalk. Even if she could fly—and I’m not saying she can’t; I just never seen her do it—she couldn’t have made it there in the split second or two it took me to turn away and then back again.

  Overhead, a pesky seagull began buzzing my airspace, swooping down like a dive bomber and pecking at my head. I swatted at it, defending my ground with unjustified tenacity, not wanting to give up an inch, lest Lilith needed it to reappear from her realm of inconspicuous domain. Within moments, other gulls emerged from the open sea, perhaps drawn by the activity of the first and whipped into a frenzy under the false pretence of a free meal. They, too, began buzzing, swooping and dive-bombing me in Hitchcock fashion until I could no longer defend my territory. I buried my head in my shoulders, my arms and fists swatting blindly in dead air. Then a voice behind me called out, “This way!”

  I turned and took a peek over my shoulder. “Lilith? Where did you go?”

  “Never mind. Come on.”

  She grabbed me by the arm and pulled me in the direction of the upper shore, laughing as she ran and tripping in the bog-effect of the soft sand. By the time we reached the car, the gulls had given up on making a meal of us and had flown off to richer shores.

  I looked at Lilith, who was still trying to catch her breath between bouts of spontaneous laughter. “You think that was funny?” I said, though clearly she did, and frankly, so did I.

  “Funny? That was hilarious. You know I think that grey spotted one liked you.”

  “Oh, do you?”

  “Yeah, but you know what, I like you, too.” She leaned in and kissed me.

  “Wow,” I said, “what was that for?”

  “That’s for being a good sport and taking me out here. Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome, but do you mind telling me now just what the hell happened back there? Where did you disappear to?”

  “I didn’t disappear. I was with you the entire time.”

  “You were?”

  “Sure. Now what do you say; are you ready to go back to see Carlos and Dominic down at the Justice Center?”

  “Me? That’s where I wanted to go all along.”

  “All right then.” She turned and practically skipped around the front of the car to the passenger side door. “What are you waiting for? Let’s go.”

  I could tell it would do no good to press the issue. Had she disappeared? Had she not disappeared? Really, what did it matter? She had her sand—her precious Gloucester Beach sand. That’s all that mattered.

  I jumped into the car and we headed for home. It wasn’t until we were pulling into the Justice Center parking lot when the thought hit me. She hadn’t disappeared back at the beach. If she had, she would have said so. Instead she told me that she was there all the time. I found a parking spot and pulled in. After shutting off the engine, I turned to her and asked, “Did you shape-shift into a seagull?”

  “Come on; let’s go in.”

  “Wait. I’m talking about back there at the beach. I turned around for just a second and when I turned back you were gone, but this seagull was there pecking at my head.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “Huh.”

  She opened the door and hopped out before I could grab her arm. From there it was a sprint up to the building to catch her, and after that there were too many people around to carry on such a bizarre conversation. So I let it go for the time being and escorted her upstairs where we found Carlos and Dominic bullshitting over coffee and donuts.

  Dominic Spinelli:

  The day after the murder, when Tony and Lilith got to the justice center, I told them how I tried to back trace the phone number Winterhutch used to call Lilith, via the phone company’s records. I explained how he used prepaid disposable cell phones to make his calls. And how they’re totally untraceable to the purchaser if he pays with cash, and you can’t triangulate the call if he keeps the conversations down to under three minutes, which he does.

  I came up with a
plan that included Lilith, so I was glad to see that she had come with Tony. I rolled it by them.

  “Why don’t we have Lilith call Winterhutch and agree to give herself up?” I said.

  “What?” Tony balked. “That’s your plan?”

  “No. Hear me out.”

  “I’m not going to let Lilith just walk into—”

  “Wait, wait, hear him out,” said Carlos. “Let the man talk.”

  “Yeah, Tony, I’m not suggesting we ask Lilith to stand in harm’s way.”

  “Hell, I’ll stand in harm’s way,” Lilith said. “I’m not afraid of that sniveling coward.”

  Tony pointed his finger at me. “See what you’ve started.”

  “Then hear me out, everyone, just chill a minute.” I walked up to the map on the wall and pointed out a location along the New Castle river district. “Here,” I said. “This is a great location for a sting operation. If we plant a decoy on the boardwalk downtown here by the Edgewater Shops, say third streetlight from the pier, we can maintain full surveillance of our suspect while providing optimum security for our decoy.”

  I watched Tony’s eyes narrow with distrust for the plan. I could see him thinking of all the things that could go wrong without considering the prospect for things to go right. Carlos, on the other hand, was practically salivating over the idea. Lilith, if I could read her at all, downright hated it. Unless she was standing in the decoy’s shoes, she’d have nothing at all to do with it.

  “I don’t know,” said Tony, rubbing his chin in contemplation. “We really can’t get a second man in close enough to the decoy to provide a quick take down. You’re talking about having someone standing on the boardwalk, leaning on the railing with his back to the river and not another cop within twenty yards.”

  “That’s right,” I said. “Unless we stick ourselves out there, Lemas won’t trust the set up. If he doesn’t feel comfortable with his surroundings, he’ll back down.”

  Carlos agreed. “The guy is clever, Tony. He’ll have to suspect that we’ll try something like this. We have to make him feel like he can approach our decoy without leaving himself open.”

  “Look.” I indicated several places on the map. “We can have a guy posted here, here and here.” Closer to the target I pointed out others. “Carlos can set up shop here, and you, Tony, can get as close as here without arousing suspicions.”

  “What about you?” he asked.

  I pointed at target zero. “I’ll be here, dressed up as Lilith.”

  “What?” said Tony.

  “You?” said Carlos.

  Lilith added, “Forget it.”

  “Why not?” I splayed my arms wide. “We’re about the same height, though granted I’m a few pounds heavier. But I figure if I dress in baggy clothes, wear a floppy hat and walk around like I have attitude to spare, Lemas should fall for the bait all right.”

  “Preposterous,” Lilith balked. She came up to me and gave me the once over with her gaze, sizing me up from head to toe as if inspecting my worth for such a lofty comparison. “First of all, let me tell you; I don’t wear baggy clothes, nor would I ever wear some silly floppy hat. Secondly, I don’t walk with attitude, I walk with confidence. There’s a difference. And thirdly, well there is no thirdly, except to say that there isn’t a person alive who could pretend to be me and get away with it.”

  “It’s going to be dark,” I said. “And remember, he’s never met you. He’s already mistaken one other woman for you, someone you yourself said was a fat cow.”

  “Dominic.” Tony shot me a stern look, I thought because I had given Lilith pushback, but it wasn’t. “Let’s have some respect for the dead please.”

  I apologized and moved on. “Look, I can do this. Carlos, tell them. There’s not another female cop in the precinct as close to Lilith’s height and weight as me, least none who aren’t married with children. There’s no sense putting anyone else in harm’s way when I can do the job just fine myself.”

  “He’s got a point,” said Carlos. “You put him in a dark wig, a heavy coat and a wide-brim hat, no one’s going to know the difference.”

  I added, “It’s better than putting Lilith out there and letting her get hurt.”

  “I’ll hurt you,” she said. “If you think for a minute that you can—”

  “Lilith, stop. He’s right.” Tony gestured with a nod in my direction. “He’s thinking logically. We’ve got to go out on a limb if we want to draw Lemas in. He’s got to feel like he has a way out, and we can’t give him that anywhere else. Least this way we control his direction of flight.” He pointed to my suggested location for the operation on the map. “See, it doesn’t matter which way he enters or exits. There are only two paths along the boardwalk, which essentially funnels into natural dead ends here and here. The only other escape route is over the railing into the river. He won’t get far that way.”

  “Then it’s settled,” said Carlos. “Tonight on the boardwalk it is. Let’s call Lemas and set it up.”

  Sure Lilith protested some more, confident we would screw things up and that only she could pull off the lure. But Tony denied her, citing department regulations against civilians acting in official police matters. It was a good strategy, too, even though there is no such department regulation. But if it were merely his objections against hers, we would have never heard the end of it. Lilith stormed out of the meeting completely pissed, wishing us luck, but saying it in a way that I’m sure was meant to sound sarcastic, which it did.

  That night a light drizzle fell intermittently on the boardwalk. A dewy mist had rolled in off the river and the drone of traffic out on Lexington Boulevard carried back on the fog all the way to Edgewater. I noticed how the sounds of the night rang differently from those of the day, especially with the streets as empty as they were then.

  I heard music banging from the jukebox in Ernie’s Pub a block and a half away. Elsewhere, from a distant rooftop, a couple, probably drunk, professed their love for one another at the tops of their lungs. I mused over the thought that one day I might be called to that exact apartment building to respond to a domestic disturbance call. I might remind them about what they said that night.

  As I waited on the boardwalk, leaning over the railing and looking out over the milky white swirls made skittish by the gentle lapping of waves on the rocky edge, I whispered low into my microphone and called for a sound check.

  “Carlos, you copy?”

  He came back, “Copy sweet heart. You’re looking cute.”

  I ignored him. “How `bout you, Tony, copy?”

  He returned, “You know, kid, I remember when you used to address me as Detective Marcella. You forget that?”

  “No, Tony…I mean, Detective. It’s just that you’re, ahm….”

  “Yes?”

  “Well, sir, I am older than you now.”

  “No you’re not.”

  “Of course, I know I’m not; that is to say that you’re still, I mean your age is—”

  “Forget it, kid, I’m only messing with you; trying to get your head in a better place. I thought you sounded nervous.”

  “No, I’m not nerv—”

  “Break it up kids.” Carlos came back. “Got a bogie at three o`clock. Play it cool, Dominic. Don’t forget we got you covered. On your word we rush him.”

  “Got it,” I said, though I suspect my words had gotten trapped somewhere between my throat and my lips and nothing really came out at all. I was so nervous I could pee. All I kept thinking about was that damn wolf knife. Lilith said she had seen one before. Was there another one?

  I turned my head discreetly to the right and saw a shadowy figure emerging from the fog like an apparition. Maybe was, for all I knew. I suddenly felt woefully under gunned and unprepared. I reached under my coat and wrapped my hand around a .38 snub nose that Tony had lent me; said it wouldn’t show as much as my Glock would.

  The man approaching stepped under the glow of the second streetlight from the pier. I could
see him better now, though the fog was still thickest along the stretch of boardwalk we occupied.

  “He’s getting closer,” I whispered, not sure if I had spoken into the microphone loud enough. “Did you guys copy?”

  Tony came back, “We copy. Hold steady. It might not be him. Don’t want to scare him off if he’s watching.”

  Carlos added, “He’ll probably try stabbing you in the belly.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, a forward thrust, it’s the power position.”

  “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

  Tony replied, “He means that your vest should resist a puncture.”

  “I wasn’t planning on giving him first strike.”

  “Shhh, he’s too close. Shut up.”

  I looked over and saw the stranger, now barely twenty feet away. I turned to him slowly, keeping my head down to shadow my face with the brim of my hat.

  “Steady, Dominic,” I heard someone say. I was so scared I couldn’t tell if it was Tony, Carlos or my own brain dispensing the advice. From beneath my coat, I thumbed the hammer of my revolver and cocked it back. The stranger’s walk seemed leisurely, but his body remained stiff. I noticed he kept his hands in his coat pockets, which gave me a minor sense of relief. To produce a knife with an eight inch blade would take a fairly drastic move on his part. He could not do it subtly, I thought; surely no quicker than it would take me to pull my gun.

  “Give him an opportunity,” a voice said, and I was sure it wasn’t mine that time.

  At six feet out I saw the man begin to remove his right hand from his pocket. I began to slip my own out from under my coat. But at just four feet away his hand came up empty, no knife, no gun; not even a glove. I left mine partially out, the butt of my revolver exposed slightly.

  “He’s reaching,” said Carlos. “Shoot!”

  “No,” Tony said. “Wait.”

  The man continued raising his hand all the way up to the brim of his hat, which he tipped ever slightly, his eyes meeting mine as he said politely, “Evening, Miss.”

  I was still holding my breath as he passed by, my heart beating so loudly in my chest I could barely hear Tony and Carlos congratulating me on my nerves of steel for waiting it out like that. I hadn’t the heart or the balls to tell them they were wrong. The truth was I had panicked. I saw that his hand was empty, but I was so scared I fired my weapon at him anyway. I had pulled the gun out from under my coat only partially, and when I squeezed the trigger the hammer came down in a fold of coat material, preventing a solid strike on the firing pin.