Witch Bane and the Croaking Game

by Cat Larson

  “Tag, you’re it.”

  I froze, slowly rotating toward the voice a yard over.

  “Samm? Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Let’s get back inside and have a scone. I even have a variety of fresh jams. I make them myself.”

  “No, thank you. That’s very kind, but I really need to get going.”

  “Already? You just got here.”

  “I’ll be sure to come back and visit real soon.” I eyed the grass. She could count on it.

  “Oh goodie, I’d like that. Bring your sister too and we can all have an old-fashioned, honest-to-goodness tea party.”

  “Will do, Mrs.—Trixie.”

  I exited through the front door, but instead of going back to Violet’s, I turned left to the neighbor’s house. My heart bounced around in my chest like a plane in turbulence as I crossed my fingers that the little girl was still playing outside.

  I hadn’t seen a ghost, but my bones chilled as if I had. I cut through the yards and saw her sitting on a blanket with a doll in her lap, having her own private tea party.

  “Hello,” I said, smiling. If she’d been warned not to talk to strangers, I hoped in my case she’d make an exception. “That’s a very pretty doll you have there.”

  She looked me up and down. “Thank you. She says you’re pretty too.”

  “That’s sweet of her to say. My name’s Samm, by the way.”

  Her nose wrinkled. “That’s a boy’s name.”

  “It’s short for Sammara.”

  She seemed to consider that a while then nodded. “My name’s Emily.” She held up her doll. “And this is Daisy Stardust Rainbow Sprinkles the third. But I just call her Daisy for short.”

  “It’s very nice to meet you Emily and Daisy.” I curtsied. “So, the third? Are the others… still with us?”

  She shook her head. “The first was eaten by a dog.” Emily pointed to a doghouse next door. “She lives there.”

  “Oh no. I’m so sorry to hear that.”

  “It’s okay. She’s not really mean or anything. She only eats things if she has to.”

  “Okay, that’s good...” And also odd to say. “Did the dog eat Daisy Stardust Rainbow Sprinkles the second too?”

  “No.” Emily covered the doll’s ears and whispered, “A monster got her. And it was mean. It didn’t have to eat her but it did. We don’t talk about that too much.”

  “I understand,” I whispered back. Even though I didn’t.

  Emily lifted off her hands and pointed to her other neighbor. “She likes dolls too.”

  “Mrs. Zweifler?” She nodded. “To eat?”

  She squealed with laughter. “No, silly. To play with. They’re her favorite.” Probably because she looks just like one, I thought. Emily laughed harder. “You’re funny.”

  Shoot, had I said that out loud?

  She giggled. “I like you.”

  “I like you too, Emily. May I join you two for tea?”

  “You may.”

  I sat down on her blanket, thinking how creepy it’d look if her parents happened to glance out the window and see a strange woman playing with their young daughter. Actually, it was more concerning that they weren’t watching.

  “How old are you?” I asked, picking up a cup and pretending to sip, pinkie out. She held up a hand and stretched out her fingers. “Wow, five? That’s pretty big.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Mmm. I have to be honest and tell you that I don’t usually like tea very much, but yours is delicious.”

  She made a funny face. “You’re silly. I didn’t pour any yet.”

  “Oh.” I shrugged. “I guess I am silly.”

  “That’s okay.”

  She poured me some, and I took another pretend sip of the real imaginary tea this time. “Even better,” I said. “So, since you’re five you must know a lot of stuff already, huh?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “A lot of games too, I bet.”

  “Uh-huh. I know hopscotch and hide-and-seek and leapfrog and… What’s that game with the candy?”

  “Candy Land?”

  She bobbed her head up and down. “Yeah.”

  “Wow. That’s a lot. What’s the one you were playing just before—the ‘tag, you’re it’ game?”

  “That’s tag, silly.”

  “Oh right.” Was it as simple as that? I felt a bit foolish getting so keyed up earlier when I’d heard her utter the words, but it’d reminded me of—

  “The people play that game with the grass.”

  “Mrs. Zweifler’s grass?” I asked hopefully, and she nodded. “What do they do?”

  “They play tag, silly.”

  “Right.”

  She gave Daisy some tea. “And pull grass.”

  “Oh?” I took another fake drink. “Do you know these people?”

  She shook her head. “One boy is nice, though. He gives me pretty pictures sometimes.”

  “Really? That’s nice of him.”

  “Mmhmm. He’s an artist.”

  “Did he ever tell you his name?”

  “No, but he has green eyes. They played the game today, but I didn’t get a picture,” she said with a pout.

  “That’s crummy.” I stuck out my bottom lip too. “The boy who gives you pictures… is he short?” Maybe the artist couldn’t give her one because… well, poisoned and all.

  “I dunno.”

  Yeah, Samm. Dumb question for a five-year-old. When I was her age, I couldn’t accurately judge height. I thought pea-sized Mrs. Zweifler was tall.

  She giggled. “You’re funny.”

  “Thank you?” That was strange.

  “Do you want to see some of the pictures? They’re pretty.”

  “Yes, I would love to.” I wondered if she was planning to go into the house, and if so, would she be allowed to come back out?

  But instead, she pulled some papers out of the tote bag she had beside her. “This one is a purple pony. And this is a rainbow kitty cat.”

  I took the drawings. “Wow, these are good.”

  “Told you. He’s an artist.” She handed me more. “And this is a kangaroo mama and her baby. And here’s a polka-dotted zebra.”

  “You must like animals a lot.”

  “Uh-huh. And here’s a curly-haired lion. And a dancing flamingo.”

  “You have your own zoo here.”

  “I have even more in my house.”

  “Wow.”

  I sorted through them again; they really were quite good. And they were all on letterhead paper with the name: Shades of the Bay. I knew that was an art studio and supply shop in town, and whoever drew these pictures likely also frequented the place. It wouldn’t hurt to check it out.

  Emily doubled over in a fit of laughter, making me laugh along with her. “What’s so funny?” I asked.

  She gave me another drawing. “This one is super silly.”

  “Really? What—”

  It was a grinning bumblebee frog.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I wasn’t laughing anymore.

  Whoever made that picture knew about Fernando, and I’d bet anything that they were also guilty of poisoning and frog-framing.

  It followed logic that since the grass-stealing gang wore black hoods, and I saw Penelope in one, they were somehow associated… Although, it wasn’t exactly a rarity to own a black hoodie.

  But if they were associated, I reasoned, it could be someone in her circle of friends. Maybe Regina was around, and she still had a thing for Griffin… What better way to get back at me for spending time with him than to make sure I was sent away indefinitely? Argh. Get real, Samm. I was letting my mind run crazy.

  Who else? Gavin? Tommy? One-Sentence Colin? Penelope’s sister, Phoebe? And those were just the acquaintances I was aware of. There could’ve been dozens more I wasn’t.

  Clarisse. It always came back to her, didn’t it? Not that I could picture her ruining her perfect nails by digging around in the dirt or drawing silly
pictures, but I could imagine her as the vindictive woman she clearly was. And she’d seen a yellow-and-black striped Fernando.

  She also had more money than a small country. It was entirely possible that she’d used some of it to hire lackeys to do her dirty work.

  My brain was swirling so fast I had to stop and regroup. I hadn’t been paying much attention as I walked along the downtown street on my way to Shades of the Bay. I was getting dizzy with the hair whipping around my head so fast and… Wait, the twister wasn’t just coming from inside of me. There was an actual whirlwind spinning around.

  Great. Did I have to worry about a tornado now on top of everything else?

  Bigfoot Café paper cups and junk food wrappers blew out of the garbage can and blasted past me. I dodged a few loose tree branches and who-knows-what-else as I pushed down the sidewalk with my head lowered. What in the world was going on?

  Not much farther and I’d be at my destination. Hopefully, I’d make it there without a stick impaled in my eyeball or getting walloped by an out-of-control flying monkey.

  The few passersby I’d seen earlier had taken shelter. I appeared to be the last one foolish enough to still be outside on this yet-another-freak-weather day. I must’ve arrived at the end of my journey in a heavy gust since it only felt like a second later when I was standing right in front of the art studio.

  When I peered into the front window, there was no one inside. I pulled open the door, and instead of it slamming shut behind me as expected, it closed gently without making so much as a peep. Had the wind stopped?

  I glanced back, swearing a cow flew by. Nope, the town was still stuck in the middle of a vortex. I was just glad to be out of it, even if I was alone.

  I strolled around, checking out the standing easels, some with pictures, some blank. There were plenty of paint palettes and brushes nearby, and I had the sudden urge to color up an empty canvas even though I couldn’t paint to save my life.

  A moment before I was about to call out and see if anyone was around, I heard a voice. I listened closely; they were on the phone. I’d just wait, then.

  It was a long shot, but I planned to ask whoever worked here if they had any idea who’d drawn whimsical animal pictures on their paper. Yeah, like I said—a long shot. I wish I would’ve asked Emily to borrow one. Maybe if the artist also painted here, their style would be recognized?

  “Look, I said I’d take the blame,” the rising voice said. “You don’t think this isn’t eating me up alive? It was my fault.”

  I crept toward the back of the building. There was a man with his back facing me standing in the doorway, leading into what I assumed was an employee area or party room. Although, no one was having any fun at the moment, least of all, this guy.

  “I don’t know,” he barked out, enabling me to sneak in closer undetected. He was swinging something in his hand. It looked like glasses. It looked like… “What part aren’t you getting? I said I’d take responsibility for Penelope but not—”

  I gasped, causing him to whip around. “Samm.” Gavin’s face drained of color as my gaze traveled back down to the sunglasses—minus one rhinestone—clenched in his grip.

  “You!” I breathed out. “It was you!”

  “No.” His eyes widened. Wait! Let me explain—”

  I hadn’t even realized what I was doing until after I’d conked him over the head with an easel. It was like my body had acted on its own accord, keeping one step ahead of my mind. This must be what Violet feels like on a daily basis…

  But as he lay on the ground, I came to the conclusion that given another chance to think about it first, I would’ve done the exact same thing all over again.

  I had to call Damon and get him here ASAP to arrest this unconscious murderer. Gavin had basically admitted to killing Penelope, he had her sunglasses, and it’d been established that he hated her for her role in breaking up his relationship with her sister.

  I’d reacted prior to hearing him confess to poisoning Jonny, but it led to reason that he’d done that as well. The poor little guy had probably found out the truth about Penelope so Gavin had to ensure he didn’t talk. Ever again.

  The only thing I couldn’t figure out was the means. Death by poison dart frog toxin? I needed a phone fast, and I had no intention of using Gavin’s and getting my fingerprints all over it. I had to keep myself out of it as much as possible and… Ha! Good luck with that. The body I’d knocked out said otherwise. Even though he was breathing, I’d still have a lot of explaining to do.

  I rushed into the back room and abruptly cut myself short, almost catapulting right out of my shoes.

  “Mmphmmm.”

  What the…? I dashed over to the bound-and-gagged man and tugged out the wadded-up cloth stuffed in his mouth.

  “Colin?”

  “Samm! Am I glad to see you. What a relief.” So, he could say more than one sentence. His eyes darted past me. “Um, Griffin’s not with you, is he?”

  Really, Colin? I stopped myself from saying something snarky. It wouldn’t have been appropriate. Of course, the guy was skittish. Who knew what kind of ordeal he’d just been through?

  “No, he’s not.”

  He nodded, relief coating his face. When all was said and done, I was going to find out once and for all why he had a litter of kittens whenever the topic of my ex-boyfriend came up.

  “Can you get these off, please?” He jangled his handcuffed wrists. “They’re killing me.”

  “Oh! Sorry. Of course.”

  “The key’s in there.” He nodded toward the file cabinet. “Top drawer. That’s where I saw him put it.”

  “Gavin?”

  “Yeah. Man… we all knew he went off the deep end after Phoebe left, but we had no idea it was to this degree.” I pulled open the drawer and retrieved the key. “Hurry, please. We don’t know how long he’ll be out.”

  I paused a sec before unlocking him. “How’d you know he’s out?”

  “I could hear everything that was going on; I just couldn’t respond. Hurry!”

  “Right.” I freed him from the chair, and he pulled off the cuffs. “Okay, let’s do this,” he said, rubbing his wrists.

  “What are we doing, exactly?”

  “Giving him a taste of what he did to me.”

  “What we need to do is call the police.” I looked around. “Is there a phone I can use?”

  “Not a smart idea, Samm. That wouldn’t bode well for you.”

  “For me?”

  “I know you’re innocent, but do you really think the cops’ll believe that?”

  “What—”

  “And now you attacked someone without just cause? I’m telling you, it doesn’t look good.”

  “But…”

  He was already out of the room, clanging around. I followed to see him digging in a box. “Come on, give me some help. There’s no time to stand around.”

  He tossed me a length of cord then shot over to lock the front door. The windows rattled, and I thought they were going to blow in. Either that or we were going to end up in a fantasy land before we finished. But finished what?

  “Do you work here?” I asked.

  “No, Gavin does.” He pulled the end of the rope. “Help me tie him up. Quickly!”

  I looked down at the thick bundle in my hands. “Where’d this even come from?”

  “Does that really matter right now? It was in the boxes. Now, you work on his hands and I’ll get his legs.”

  I’d admit, Colin was right in that the situation wouldn’t put me in a favorable light, but I didn’t do anything wrong. It was Gavin. All I did was immobilize him until the cops came, but maybe that was a mistake?

  But this didn’t feel quite right either…

  “And then what? We can’t just leave him tied up here.” Even if I had heard him admit his wrongdoing with my own ears. And my brain wasn’t going to make this stuff up for the fun of it.

  “You must be my guardian angel,” he responded.

&n
bsp; “What?”

  “I was just about to call Tommy for help when you showed up instead. And wow, am I impressed. You can really hold your own, Samm.”

  “I suppose.”

  “Faster, please.” I haphazardly wrapped his arms while trying to concentrate. Everything was moving so fast. “I don’t think that’s going to hold. Can you grab some more cord in the back room?”

  “Okay.”

  “And hurry!” I went back, my head in a flurry. “There should be some in that same cabinet where you got the key.” He was talking a million miles a minute. “Hurry!”

  I opened the drawers. “There’s nothing here!” I yelled out.

  “Keep checking. It’s there somewhere.” I scurried around on autopilot, mindlessly checking everywhere. “Anything yet?”

  “No!”

  “There’s a stack of boxes behind the chair I was handcuffed to. Check in there. It’ll probably be mixed in with other things.”

  I pushed the chair aside and opened the first of the three boxes. It only contained layers of brushes. I started on the second, digging through to the bottom then paused. I had to slow down and think. It was all too chaotic.

  The chair… He said he was about to call Tommy for help, but how could he call Tommy for help, being handcuffed and gagged? And why would he even need help before I’d arrived?

  “Samm! How are things going in there?”

  “Still can’t find any.”

  Although… Colin could’ve suspected Gavin long before Gavin had actually strapped him to the chair. That made sense. I began searching through the last box.

  “It’s there somewhere—keep checking!”

  “But—”

  “Hurry!”

  Gah! He was so dang insistent. It was like… Wait, had he sent me on a wild snark hunt? Was he purposely trying to keep me out of the way?

  I tiptoed toward the doorway with the goal of silencing both my footsteps and my head. All the franticness had only made me more scattered. What was going on out there, and how much rope was really needed anyway? We weren’t tying up a rabid Tasmanian devil.

  I peeked in just as Colin slipped something into Gavin’s mouth. He then attempted to prop him up against a beam.

  He glanced at me. “Oh good, you’re back. A little help, please?”