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

by Dana Donovan

  “We have to find an unwitting participant,” I told the guys. “You two know I’m here, so yours minds are not accepting the deception. Your brains are overriding the suggestive powers of the spell.”

  “Yeah, that or maybe it’s just not working,” said Spinelli. His cocky attitude was really starting to bite into my patience.

  Carlos shook his head. “No, I think it’s working.”

  “Really?” I said.

  He drew a sharp bead on me, as though peering through my body. “Yeah, when I do this you kind of get real skinny, like maybe you’re beginning to fade away.” He looked at Spinelli. “Dominic, do this. Squint really hard and shade your eyes. Doesn’t it look like Tony’s getting skinny and may be ready to disappear?”

  “Yeah.” Spinelli’s eyes drew down tight. “And look, when you close your eyes altogether he does actually disappear.”

  I swear I could have choked him. I reached out and kicked one of the yellow candles in his direction, spraying him with hot wax and not caring about it for a second.

  “You think this is a joke?” I said, starting toward him. “You think anything about this situation is funny?”

  Carlos stepped forward to drive some distance between us. “Tony, Dominic doesn’t mean anything by it.” He set his hand on my shoulder. “I told you. You’re not Lilith. You don’t think she could pull off a spell like this in her first year as a witch, do you?”

  “Carlos, Lilith was born a witch. I doubt she practiced any witchcraft before age one.”

  “My point exactly.” He slapped me on the back and walked off towards the kitchen. “This is too much for you to bite off so early in your apprenticeship.” He opened the fridge and grabbed a Coke. “You want one?”

  “Sure, why not?”

  He smiled. “Not you,” and he tossed a can to Spinelli before reaching in for a second. “You’re not here. I can’t notice you, remember?”

  I crossed the room, and by the time I got to him he seemed to notice me just fine. “Give me one, you ass.” I snatched the Coke from his hand and popped the top. “Come on. We need to go next door and see if anyone there can see me.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yes, I’m serious. Both of you go knock on the neighbor’s door and ask if anyone there has seen me.”

  Spinelli asked, “Where will you be?”

  “Right behind you,” I said. “They’ll either see me or they won’t. It’s a simple as that.”

  He looked at Carlos. “Simple as that, eh?”

  Carlos shrugged. “You heard the man. Let’s go.”

  The third door down the hall from my apartment is where Froggy Smith lives. Froggy’s a nice guy, lives with a male roommate who may or may not be his lover. Personally, I always thought he was straight, but Lilith says he’s a cheeky monkey who swings from a different tree. Not that it matters to me either way. I picked Froggy’s apartment to call on because he’s always home and will always open the door to strangers. And let’s face it; Spinelli and Carlos look about as strange a couple as you can get.

  I told them both to have their badges and IDs ready just in case he thought they were there to sell him something. Turns out, Froggy probably wouldn’t have minded that at all. I think maybe Lilith was right. He does swing from a different tree. He even seemed sweet enough on Spinelli to invite him in for drinks, though later I learned what he actually offered Dom was something called a salty licker, which has nothing to do with liquor at all.

  “Have I seen Tony Marcella?” said Froggy, after peeling his attention away from Spinelli long enough to hear the question. “Are you kidding?” He seemed to look my way without looking at me, yet the entire time we were at his door, Carlos and Spinelli shoulder-to-shoulder with me behind them, I couldn’t shake the feeling that he could see me clear as day.

  “That’s right,” Carlos answered. “Marcella is your neighbor, isn’t he?”

  Again Froggy looked up, his eyes seeing right through me. “Sure, he’s my neighbor. Why, what’s wrong? Is he in trouble or something?”

  “No.” Carlos shook his head. “We just wanted to know if you had….” he looked at Spinelli and smiled, “seen him recently.”

  “You want to know if I’ve seen Tony?”

  “Yes.”

  “Recently?”

  “That’s right.”

  A thin smile crossed his lips and I could swear he could see me. “No, sorry gentlemen, I haven’t seen him.”

  I could not see Carlos or Dominic’s face, but I could imagine their smiles ebbing like a tide. “Really? You haven’t seen him?”

  “That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

  “You realize we’re not here to arrest him,” said Spinelli.

  Froggy stiffened his shoulders and threw them back, drawing a deep breath, as if preparing to shut the door on the conversation. “Just so you know,” he said, his voice punctuated with a sense of finality, “Tony Marcella is an honorable man. If he wants you to see him, he’ll let you see him.” And then he did in fact slam the door on the conversation.

  Carlos and Spinelli stared at the door for the longest time, neither wanting to be the first to turn and face me. But I’m an equal opportunity gloater. I tapped them both on the shoulder and said, “Well? What do you say to that?”

  The two turned around slowly. “He saw you,” said Dominic. “He looked right at you.”

  “No, he looked through me, as if I wasn’t there.”

  Carlos said, “I’ve got to go with Dom on this one, Tony. He clearly saw you, and lied thinking he was protecting you. Face it; the spell didn’t work.”

  “No, it worked. He doesn’t know me that well, not enough to lie to the cops for me, anyway.”

  “Let’s try another neighbor,” said Dominic.

  “No.” I took a quick glance down at my watch. “We don’t have time. We have to get going. I can work on the spell on the way to Salem. Besides, the energy is stronger there, remember? Just like with the scrying. I can perfect the spell once we get there. You guys on board?”

  “Do we have a choice?” asked Carlos.

  I nudged them toward the stairs. “Yes. Go peacefully or under protest. If you choose the latter I’ll give your home phone numbers to Froggy.”

  “Then by all means. Let’s roll.

  Dominic Spinelli:

  We rolled into town about eleven-thirty and found the downtown district only mildly abuzz with nightlife, and most of that was generated around Ingersoll’s Tavern.

  There, the neon façade lit up the street well enough to see faces out front from a block away, which is where we parked to keep from drawing attention to ourselves. I was sitting in the back seat. As I started to get out, Tony grabbed my shirtsleeve and eased me back in.

  “You know what Dominic?” I could tell from the tone of his voice what was coming. “I was thinking maybe just Carlos and I should go in. Why don’t you stay out here and watch the building?”

  I pulled my arm back with a jerk. “Watch for what?”

  “Putnam, in case he pulls up with the girls in the van.”

  “I thought you didn’t believe he’d bring the girls with him.”

  “Well, we don’t know that for sure, do we?”

  “Bullshit. You don’t want me with you because you’re still pissed at me for what happened yesterday and earlier today.”

  “No I’m not.”

  “You are, too.”

  “Look,” said Tony, his tone surly now. “This is a police operation and I’m giving you an order.”

  “What? This isn’t a police operation. It’s not even in our jurisdiction.”

  “Drop it, Spinelli. It’s done. Now I want you to wait here and watch for Putnam. Carlos,” he gave him the Let’s Go nod. “Move it.”

  Tony and Carlos got out, pulled their coattails down over their weapons and walked the block to Ingersoll’s Tavern, leaving me to stew in my anger. I waited until they were out of sight before hopping out and getting in behind the
wheel so that I wouldn’t look like a total buffoon.

  The first few minutes I don’t think I was really paying much attention to my surroundings—pissed as I was—but then I noticed twice in about a ten-minute span a dark-colored van slowing down as it drove past the tavern. On the third go-a-round I readied my hand on the door, preparing to jump out and take Putnam down single-handedly. That, I thought, would show the great Tony Marcella. Unfortunately, the van I thought might be Putnam’s, turned out to be just a ride for a bunch of teens looking to score something from a street corner druggie.

  I knew it wasn’t any of my business, but I was feeling particularly agitated and I wanted to do something about it. So I waited for the van to pass before getting out and approaching the thug on the corner. I figured if I couldn’t take Putnam down, I could at least clean up a single street corner for one night. Consider it my contribution to the betterment of Salem and its fine people.

  A lot of times I take people by surprise when I tell them I’m a cop. Guess it’s because I not that big a guy and because I look much younger than I really am. No doubt that’s what the kid on the corner thought when he saw me coming. Not only didn’t he run from me, but he actually coaxed me around the corner into the shadows to offer me a deal. Knowing I couldn’t bring him downtown, I went along for the jest.

  “So, wha`sup, man?” he said, stealing glimpse over my shoulder to make sure I wasn’t followed. “You lookin` to connect?”

  “Maybe,” I said. “Whacha got?”

  “Shoot, name it: 007`s, 151`s, Oxy, Dust. Maybe you’re a Black Whack guy, eh?”

  “What?”

  “Oh, I know, you like to sink a little Butu?”

  “You got all that on you?”

  “Dude, you luna? You ain’t the heat, man are ya? I ain’t lookin` fo no blista, Bro.”

  “Me? Do I look 5-O?”

  He stepped back to size me up proper, and having satisfied his suspicions, replied, “No, I guess you cool.”

  “Right then, so what do you say?”

  “I say you ain’t told me what`chu want.”

  “You didn’t tell me what you had on you.”

  “Shit I didn’t, sucker. I don’t mule no shit `round here. I can get ya what ya want, but I run clean, man.” He nodded up into the night sky. “That’s a witch’s moon flyin` up there, Tyro. I don’t pack on a witch’s moon; bitch’ll bust ya, know wadda mean?”

  I turned and glanced back over my shoulder. The moon filled barely half its outline. “What’s a witch’s moon?” I asked.

  He drew a soured smile and then dropped it quickly. “Serious, dude?”

  “Yeah, I never heard the expression.”

  “Then you ain’t from `round here, Cubby.”

  I shook my head. “No, I’m new.”

  “Dude, you sup the witch thing?”

  “Sup? Do you mean do I believe? Of course, most definitely.”

  He nodded. “Then you should know; witches don’t die easily; least ways `round here they don’t, especially if they was hanged. Legend says a witch’s moon brings the spirits of dead witches out for revenge. They fly around in the mist looking for people doing bad things, and if they see ya doin` something wrong, they kill ya.”

  “Do they?”

  “Damn straight, `less you hangin` a witch at midnight on a witch’s moon; then all the spirits stay in the spirit world and wait to receive the newcomer. But I don’t spect they is hangin` no witches tonight, eh?”

  “No, I don’t suppose so. Do most of the town’s people believe that? Is that what Ingersoll’s Witness is all about?”

  The kid’s eyes narrowed sharply with that question. “What did you say you wanted, Bro?”

  I shook my head. “I didn’t.”

  “Dude, you asking a lot of questions.”

  “Yeah, and you’ve been a nice guy to answer them.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out my badge. “But I’m watching this corner now, Cubby. If I see you soliciting drugs around here again I’ll take you down. Got that?”

  “Man, you don’t chill. You da heat.”

  “So I lied. Now beat it.”

  The kid eased back a couple of steps before turning around and sprinting off into the shadows. About then the van full of teens drove by again on a slow roll. I held my badge up to the driver and he hit the gas, speeding off in a squeal of smoking tires. Man how I love this job sometimes.

  Carlos Rodriquez:

  I felt bad for Dominic when Tony told him to wait out in the car instead of letting him go into the tavern with us. But I agreed with Tony that someone needed to stay outside and watch for Putnam’s van.

  I know Dominic thinks I’m Tony’s yes man, and I suppose I can see why that is; but what he needs to understand is that nine times out of ten, Tony’s right. The trouble is I don’t know when that tenth time is up, and unfortunately that’s usually when the shit hits the fan the hardest. Never was that more evident than when Dominic walked into Ingersoll’s Tavern not fifteen minute behind us. He seemed especially excited about something, but Tony squashed that quick.

  “I don’t care about some two-bit drug pusher.” Tony’s outburst turned heads in the tavern from one end of the bar to the other. I suppose I couldn’t blame him, though, I mean for blowing up like that. I’m sure the thought of losing Lilith had him sitting on a razor’s edge. But I also know Dominic, and I knew he must have thought that what he had to say was important enough to come inside and voice it. For that reason, I should have mediated a truce, but I didn’t.

  “But I don’t think Putnam’s coming,” Dominic insisted. He waved his hand in a broad sweep across the room. “This is all a diversion.”

  Tony stood up, crowding Dominic against the bar. His voice had simmered, but his tone had come to a full boil. “A diversion from what?”

  “From Putnam’s real plans for Lilith and Ursula, which is to—”

  “To exchange them for the gate key, I know, but look; you’re causing a scene here. If Putnam shows up now you’ll scare him away.”

  “Tony, that’s not it. I think—”

  “Bullshit. You want me to leave so that I won’t try to….” he dropped into a harsh whisper, “so that I won’t try to sneak into Putnam’s van. You want the glory of saving the girls. Isn’t that right?”

  “No.”

  “Of course it is. Listen, I know you have a thing for Lilith. Maybe you don’t mean to show it, but you don’t want to see me succeed at witchcraft.”

  “Tony, that’s not it at all.”

  “It is, admit it. You don’t want me to succeed because you think Lilith won’t want me if I fail.”

  “That’s ridiculous. I don’t want you to fail. But look at you. Are you invisible now? Can he see you?” Dominic pointed to the bartender and motioned for him to look my way. “Can you see this man? Can you—”

  “Stop it,” I said, and again heads turned. “See, that’s what I mean. It’s all about you, Dominic. You pump yourself up so that everyone has to notice you, just like with Lilith.”

  “That’s bull.”

  “Is it? Then why did you name the Chihuahua, after her?”

  “Tony. You got me all wrong. I don’t—”

  “That’s right, you don’t. You don’t have a damn clue what me and Lilith have going together. But one thing’s for sure, I’m not going to let you screw it up by jeopardizing her life, Ursula’s, mine, Carlos’ and for that matter, your own. Now why don’t you be a good cop and go back to what you were told to?”

  “But….”

  “Good bye, Spinelli.”

  I think that when Dominic walked out, so went a shred of his respect for me, an amount I can measure equally against the loss of my own self-esteem. I don’t know why I didn’t go out after him, perhaps because in my heart I thought Tony was right. I’ve seen the way Dominic looks at Lilith. The boy is definitely smitten with her. But that didn’t give Tony the right to walk all over him like that. The sad part is that Dominic was right, too.
Sitting in Ingersoll’s Tavern all night was exactly what Putnam wanted. If it wasn’t for the free appetizers, the evening would have been a total bust.

  Lilith Adams:

  I can’t tell you how pissed I was. Putnam had beaten a confession out of Ursula within the first ten minutes, yet still continued to hit her for the fun of it. I mean, the poor girl had already hanged once for being a witch; what more did he want?

  “Names,” he said, when asked that question. “I want the names of all the witches she knows here in Salem.”

  “I know of none,” Ursula replied, her left eye swelled shut from the beatings. “Haft not the centuries past but thrice? Surely those I knew are all dead these many years.”

  “Surely not, for you’re not dead.”

  “Aye, but for a time I was.”

  “How have you come back?”

  “I brought her back,” I said. “You know I’m a witch. I told you so at my trial. But Ursula is mortal now. She has nothing to do with witchcraft. So why don’t you let her go.”

  “I think not,” Putnam said, and he laughed. “Not by the light of a witch’s moon shall you or she escape the noose tonight.”

  “Yes we will. Tony will stop you. He’s on his way up here right now, you know.”

  “Your fool-hearted boyfriend?” Again that sickly laugh dribbled from his lips in measured spats. He had dragged us by the ropes around our necks up to Gallows Hill. “I hardly think so, Ms. Adams. Even as we speak, your boyfriend and his hapless cohorts are sitting in Ingersoll’s Tavern, waiting for me to come in and make a swap: you and Ms. Bishop for Ms. Bishop’s gate key.”

  “I don’t believe you. Tony’s too smart to fall for that shit. He’ll think of every contingent.”

  “Will he?”

  “Yes, I know it.”

  “Well then, he better hurry up then, hadn’t he?” He glanced down at his watch and then up at the moon. “Look at that. It’s almost midnight. What do you say we get started?”

  He stepped right up to me, perhaps wanting to gauge my reaction up close and personal. I could do little with my hands joined to Ursula’s behind our backs and that confounded witch’s stone around his neck. But I could express my opinion, and so I drew a narrow bead on him with my most menacing leer and spat in his face. “What do you say you go fuck yourself,” I answered.