Heart of the Witch (Witches of Keating Hollow Book 2)

by Deanna Chase

  “I know,” he said gently. “No one ever expects to have to do this. But the sooner we go in, the sooner it will be over with. You’re strong, Noel. I know you can do this. I’ll do it with you. Ready?”

  She sucked in a deep breath and then let it out in a long sigh. “No. I’ll never be ready.”

  He reached up and ran his hands down her arms. Her power buzzed lightly under his palms. She stiffened, clearly not expecting the contact, and then took two decisive steps forward and pulled the glass door open.

  “You coming?” She glanced back at him, one eyebrow raised.

  “Yep.” He hurried after her into the drab office. Everything was beige; the walls, the floors, the uniforms. Even the sound of the receptionist’s voice was dull.

  “Name?” the woman said without looking up from her computer.

  “Noel Townsend is here to identify her ex-husband, Xavier Anderson,” Drew said.

  She finally looked up, scanned Drew, and asked, “And you are?”

  “Deputy Baker from Keating Hollow.”

  She took her sweet time typing their information into the computer. Drew watched as she pecked around like a chicken using only her two index fingers. Damn, he thought. Was the hiring pool so bad that they couldn’t even find a receptionist who could type?

  Noel worried the hem of her green sweater as she rocked back on her heels. Then she started to tap her foot and drum her fingers on the counter.

  “Could you stop that?” the receptionist asked, annoyance coloring her tone. “I’m trying to concentrate.”

  “Is that what you call it?” Noel asked, staring straight at her.

  The receptionist bristled, glared at Noel, and then deliberately started to type slower. Drew ground his teeth together. If his receptionist behaved that way, she’d find herself on the unemployment line. He couldn’t believe this was the first contact when the public had to come identify a loved one. Even though Xavier Anderson was Noel’s ex-husband, he was still the father of her child, and she’d loved him once. Finding out he’d died was still traumatic.

  “For the love of—” Noel started.

  “Oh, Baker, you’re here,” a man with a gruff voice said from behind them.

  Drew turned around and nodded at Coroner Fisk. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the first time he’d had reason to visit the man’s office. Drew nodded and gestured to Noel. “This is Noel Townsend.”

  “Ms. Townsend. I’m sorry for the unpleasantness of this situation, but it is an honor to meet you.” He held his hand out and shook Noel’s. “Ready?”

  “As ready as I’m going to be,” she said, gripping Drew’s arm so tight, he thought he might lose the feeling in his hand. But he didn’t care in the slightest. She could’ve ripped the limb right off, and he wouldn’t have said a word. He knew all too well what it was like to lose someone important. Drew stayed glued to her side as they made their way back to the morgue.

  “We think he’d been washed up on shore for less than twelve hours. But he’s been dead for at least three days. No real trauma was evident, so you won’t have to deal with a mangled corpse.”

  Noel tripped over nothing when he said the words ‘mangled corpse’ and clutched Drew’s arm harder with both hands to keep from going down. Drew quickly reached out with his other hand and helped steady her.

  “You’re okay,” he whispered in her ear, wishing there was something he could do to take on this burden for her.

  She nodded and squared her shoulders, a fierce look of pure determination settling on her delicate features. That was the Noel Townsend he knew so well.

  “Of course, that does mean we need to run an autopsy to find out what happened,” Fisk rattled on. He glanced over his shoulder at her. “Did he have any enemies that you know of? Any reason to expect foul play?”

  Noel shrugged. “No idea. I haven’t seen him in over three years.”

  “Oh. I see.” Fisk met Drew’s gaze. “You did say ex-wife, didn’t you?

  Drew nodded. “His daughter is next of kin, but she’s only six. Xavier Anderson doesn’t have any other family on record.”

  “Okay.” Fisk opened the door and ushered them into the sterile room.

  The air was so cold, and Drew couldn’t stop the shiver that crawled over his skin. But Noel didn’t seem to notice. She stood in the middle of the room, her eyes trained on the table and body covered with a drop cloth.

  “Are you ready for this?” Fisk asked her, moving to stand on the other side of the table.

  She choked out a short, “Yes.”

  It was then Drew realized she was trembling. But considering a sheen of sweat had popped out on her forehead, he didn’t think it was from the cold.

  Fisk reached for the sheet and lifted it just enough to show Noel the man’s face.

  Noel let out a little gasp, blinked twice, then shook her head as she glanced away. Her complexion turned so pale, Drew took a step forward, worried she might pass out.

  “It’s not Xavier,” she said.

  “It’s not?” Fisk asked, his eyebrows disappearing under his thick dark hair. “Are you sure?”

  The trembling stopped as she straightened her shoulders and stared him in the eye. There wasn’t anything weak about her when she said, “I’m positive. I’d know the father of my child, Mr. Fisk. So unless you have another dead man around here you want me to take a look at, I think we’re done here.”

  Drew couldn’t help but admire her fierceness. She always had been a force to be reckoned with.

  Fisk led the way back out of the morgue and gestured for them to follow him to a small, windowless office. “Wait here,” he said and disappeared inside. A minute later, he reappeared and waved them in. “Deputy Sheriff Reilly is here. He’d like to have a word with you before you go.”

  Deputy Sheriff Reilly? What the hell was that jackass doing there? Reilly worked directly under county Sheriff Barnes. If Barnes had sent Reilly, did that mean they thought there was foul play? If so, what could it possibly have to do with Noel since she didn’t even know the man on the table?

  “Have a seat, Ms. Townsend,” Reilly said to Noel. The skinny, balding man sat in the leather chair, his elbows propped on the metal desk.

  “I’ll stand if you don’t mind,” she said, shoving her hands into her jean pockets.

  “Suit yourself.” Reilly sat back in the leather chair, kicked his feet up onto the desk, and locked his fingers behind his neck. “Have you ever seen that man before?”

  “No.”

  “Are you positive, Ms. Townsend? If you’re not being truthful, this could end badly for you.” Reilly studied her with hardened eyes as if she was some sort of suspect.

  His demeanor pissed Drew off. He was about to tell the jackass to cool it when Noel said, “Sir, I already told you I don’t know him.” She turned to Drew and asked, “Do I have to be here?”

  Drew shook his head, holding his hand out to her. “No. We can go.”

  She slipped her hand into his, and he tightened his fingers around her chilled ones. He started to tug her out of the room.

  Reilly stood, grabbed something out of his top drawer and waved it at them. “The John Doe in there was found with Xavier Anderson’s wallet. There’s even a picture of you and a little girl inside.” He flipped it open to the driver’s license. “You’re telling me the man in this picture isn’t the man lying on that table?”

  Noel leaned in and studied the ID. Then she jerked back, her eyes wide and full of something Drew couldn’t quite place. Fear? Shock? Confusion? “That ID is current,” she finally said.

  Reilly glanced at it. “So it is. But you still didn’t answer my question. Is the man in this picture your husband?”

  “Ex-husband,” Noel said through clenched teeth. “But yes, that’s him.”

  “And you’re saying the man on the table isn’t this man?” Reilly peered at the ID.

  “Yes. That is exactly what I’m saying.” Noel glowered at him. “Frankly, Deputy, I’m surpri
sed you can’t tell the difference.”

  Reilly pursed his lips in concentration, then shrugged. “I guess I see what you mean. But John Doe in there looks kind of like him. Both have blond hair anyway. He could’ve easily passed as Mr. Anderson.”

  Drew had the intense urge to clock Reilly. What was he doing? There was no reason to believe Noel knew anything about this situation. Instead, he just tightened his hold on Noel’s hand, making sure she knew she wasn’t alone.

  “What are you trying to tell me, Deputy?” Noel asked. “That Xavier’s identity has been stolen?”

  “That’s a strong possibility.” He ran a hand over his angular jaw. “If you hear from your husband or have any idea where he might be, make sure you get in touch with me as soon as possible. He might be the only one who’ll be able to shine a light on our John Doe.”

  Noel’s eyes narrowed, and Drew could feel the ire rolling off her. “Ex-husband. I already told you that I haven’t seen or heard from him in three years. That isn’t a lie, and I have no reason to believe he’ll contact me. But if you find him, please do let me know. I wouldn’t mind collecting the child support he owes me.”

  “Oh, we’ll find him. Don’t you worry about that. But we’re going to need a better picture than this.” He tapped the wallet. “You’ll need to supply us with the most recent pictures you have. One with a full-face view and a profile view if you have them.”

  “I don’t…” She shook her head, clearly frustrated, then said, “Fine. I’ll give them to Deputy Baker.”

  “Good. A word of caution; don’t drag your feet on this. The bosses won’t be happy, and you won’t want to deal with that shit storm. We need them as soon as possible. Tomorrow at the latest.”

  Her body tensed as she visibly seethed, and Drew couldn’t blame her. Why was she being treated like a criminal?

  “Let’s go,” Drew said, glaring at Reilly. Drew knew the man had a job to do, but there was no reason to keep pushing Noel. Not after she’d just stared death in the face. “We’re done.”

  Reilly shrugged one shoulder and sat back down as if he didn’t see any issue with his behavior.

  Drew let out a huff of disgust as he shuffled Noel out of the building.

  Once they were outside, Noel pulled her hand from his and waited without a word as Drew unlocked and opened the passenger door for her. After she was tucked inside, he jogged to the driver’s side and jumped in. He cranked the engine, slammed the car into gear, and pealed out of the parking lot.

  He weaved in and out of traffic, putting as much distance as he could between them and the coroner’s office as quickly as possible. He didn’t want to admit it, but there was no denying that the experience had shaken him. Being a deputy sheriff, he wasn’t a stranger to death, but watching Noel process the possible loss of a loved one had brought back memories he’d long ago buried. Images of Charlotte lying lifeless in Abby Townsend’s work shed flooded his brain and made his pulse quicken. A pit formed in his stomach as bile rose up in the back of his throat. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel and headed north, lost in his own thoughts.

  In no time, he was back on highway 299, headed toward Keating Hollow. Everyone who lived in their magical village knew the highway like the back of their hand, and Drew was no exception. He stepped on the gas, taking the curves with expert precision.

  Next to him, Noel sucked in a sharp breath.

  Without taking his eyes off the road, he asked, “Are you okay?”

  “I will be.”

  It was the tremble in her voice that got his attention. He glanced over. She’d turned a sickly shade of pale green and was holding her stomach. “Whoa.” Drew quickly pulled the car off to the side of the road.

  Noel burst from the vehicle and stumbled down the side of the bank toward the river. Drew ran after her, cursing himself, and caught up just as she fell to her knees and started to retch.

  “I’m so sorry, Noel,” he said, kneeling beside her.

  She tried to shake her head, but the retching continued.

  Drew carefully pulled her hair back and lightly rubbed her back as he patiently waited for her to empty her stomach.

  “Oh, goddess,” she finally whispered and glanced up at him through watering eyes. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I can’t believe I did this.”

  “Nothing to be sorry about.” He stood and offered his hand.

  Noel let him pull her to her feet. He gently guided her over to the water’s edge, pulled a handkerchief out of his back pocket, and proceeded to dunk it into the river. He held the bundle in his hands and whispered, “Vapos.”

  The icy water heated instantly from his magic, and steam rose from the cloth as he handed it to her. Even though he was a powerful water witch, he didn’t have cause to use his power much. He was pleased he’d been able to call up the spell so readily after being out of practice.

  “Thank you,” she said and took a moment to clean herself up. When she was done, her cheeks were rosy from the warmth of his handkerchief. “I’m okay now.”

  But she wasn’t. Her cheeks might have been warm, but the rest of her was shivering and she was unsteady on her feet. Drew stripped his jacket off and wrapped it around her shoulders.

  “I’m fine,” she said, trying to shrug the jacket off.

  “Noel,” he said, his tone gentle. “It’s okay to accept help from an old friend.”

  She stared up at him, raw emotion radiating in her big blue eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words seemed to get caught in her throat.

  Drew opened his arms and said, “Come here.”

  Noel’s head dropped, but she walked forward and wrapped her arms around him. He held her, resting his cheek on the top of her head as he murmured soothing words.

  Her hands fisted in his shirt, and her grip tightened as if she were holding on for dear life.

  “I’ve got you, Noel,” he whispered. “I won’t let go. I promise.”

  She nodded and buried her head into his shoulder.

  Drew would’ve given anything to take her pain away. To save her from more trauma. He’d been there for her, of course, when her husband disappeared three years ago. He’d been the one to take the missing persons report when she’d been angry and scared and unable to believe he’d just walk out without so much as a goodbye. No one had really believed he’d left of his own free will. She and Xavier had seemed like the perfect, all-American couple. From afar, Xavier had seemed like a devoted father and family man. It wasn’t unusual to see the three of them around town, to see Xavier taking his daughter to the park or to A Spoonful of Magic.

  But when it was discovered Xavier had packed a suitcase and then cleaned out most of their savings a week later, there hadn’t been any question that Xavier Anderson had left on his own—no note, no phone call, no nothing. And suddenly Noel had found herself a single mother with no answers. She’d changed after that. Her infectious smiles had become rare unless she was playing with her daughter, and she no longer radiated with the openness that had drawn him to her ten years ago. Her heart had been broken, and it was clear to everyone who loved her—including him—that it had never healed.

  “I’m so sorry, Drew,” she finally said, pulling out of his embrace. “I don’t know what happened. I never get car sick.”

  He gave her a sympathetic smile. “Maybe if I hadn’t been driving like a bat out of hell, you wouldn’t have lost your lunch.”

  “That wasn’t it and you know it,” she said, stuffing her hands in her pockets. “It was the—”

  He held up a hand stopping her. “I know. Getting queasy is pretty normal after a trip to the morgue. There’s no need to explain.”

  She was silent for a moment then gave him a small nod. “Thanks. I’m ready to get back on the road. I need to get home so I can clean myself up before I go get Daisy from my dad’s house.”

  “Sure.” He grabbed her hand again and helped steady her as she climbed back up the bank.

  The passenger d
oor to his SUV was still wide open, and she grimaced. “Sorry,” she said again when he was back in the driver’s seat.

  “If you apologize one more time, you’re going to piss me off,” he said with a mock scowl as he turned the engine over and then blasted the heat.

  “Right,” she said, buckling her seatbelt. “No more apologies.”

  “Thank you.” He eased the vehicle back out onto the road, this time careful to keep the speed within the legal limit.

  They were both quiet as the daylight rapidly disappeared and turned to dusk. By the time they made it back to Keating Hollow night had fallen, and Main Street was lit up with festive holiday lights. Just as they passed the inn, Noel said, “You can let me out here.”

  Drew shook his head as he pulled into the small parking lot around the back and killed the engine. “You still have to get Daisy, right?”

  “Um, yeah,” she said hesitantly. “But I’m good. I can drive myself.”

  “I’d rather you didn’t. I’d feel more comfortable if you just let me drive you to your dad’s house.”

  “Drew,” she said. “Please don’t make a big deal out of what happened back there. I’m perfectly fine now. I just… well, I was in shock, I guess. Though I shouldn’t be, right? I mean, nothing’s changed when it comes to Xavier. He still left us, only now it appears he’s had his identity stolen. Not my concern or my business.” Her eyes narrowed, and her voice took on a hard edge. “Though the fact that he’s obviously been near Keating Hollow and hasn’t come to see his daughter—”

  She abruptly closed her mouth, shook her head, and then added, “I’m rambling.”

  He gave her a small smile. “Sounds like you’re just getting a few things off your chest.”

  With a sigh, she nodded. “I guess so.”

  “Come on. Let’s get you inside then I’ll take you to get Daisy.”

  “Drew, my family will be there. I don’t want to answer any questions right now. Not yet. I need to process. If you’re there, they’re going to pepper me with a million and one questions.”