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Batter and Spells

Page 10

by Zoe Arden


  Grayson Redfern: Drop out of the election or die.

  "You found this in my car?" I asked Elmer. He nodded, looking sorry. I turned back to Sheriff Knoxx. "If this was in my car, it's because someone put it there, just like the gun."

  "When would someone have had the chance to do that?" he asked.

  "I don't know, probably at Whisper Crossing when they stuck that note under my windshield wipers. I bet the same person popped my trunk and opened the lid. I should have searched the car before going anywhere. It just didn't occur to me that they'd plant evidence."

  "Excuse me, Sheriff, Sir," Elmer interrupted, "but I think the car actually belongs to Miss Eleanor."

  Sheriff Knoxx turned white. I knew what he was thinking. If it was Eleanor's car, then he might have to question her, too.

  "Yes," I said quickly. I wasn't about to let anyone pin this on Aunt Eleanor. "But I'm the only one who ever uses it. It's practically my car. Isn't that right, Dad?"

  My father looked at me but said nothing. He wasn't about to say anything that might hurt me. I looked behind me at Colt, who'd gotten suspiciously quiet during all of this. His face was a deep shade of purple. When he spoke again, it was with an exaggerated calm that he clearly did not feel.

  "Sheriff. Knoxx." Colt took a deep breath. "I. Cannot. Abide. This. Treatment. Of. Ava." He took another deep breath and the nightshade color of his face lightened ever so slightly. "You need to charge her or let her go. That's how this works. You know that."

  Sheriff Knoxx sighed. "He's right."

  I felt my family give a communal sigh of relief. When Sheriff Knoxx stood up, I stood up with him, taking Colt's hand and turning to go. Sheriff Knoxx reached out to stop me.

  "I thought you said I was free to go," I said.

  "No. What I said was that Colt was right. I have to either charge you or let you go."

  Eleanor stared at him, comprehension slowly sinking in.

  "Ava Rose Fortune," said Sheriff Knoxx, very formally, "you're under arrest for the assault and attempted murder of Grayson Redfern."

  * * *

  CHAPTER

  EIGHTEEN

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  * * *

  * * *

  .

  I sat on a cot in the cell. The cell was about as uncomfortable as I'd imagined it would be. Cold, damp, and smelling faintly of ammonia. It reminded me of a nursing home, if nursing homes had jail cells. The cot itself was small. It claimed to be a twin-sized mattress, but I thought it was maybe three-quarters that. It seemed made for a child instead of an adult. The mattress was hard as rocks and freezing cold, which I didn't even know was possible. Mattresses were made of cotton and polyester; how could they get cold? I shivered and wrapped my arms around myself.

  There was one other person in the cell beside me. A woman. She had long, curly, dark hair and was in her mid-thirties. I didn't recognize her. Since I knew most of the people in Sweetland Cove, I guessed that she was either a tourist or from Mistmoor, it was hard to tell. I tried searching her eyes for the characteristic gold flecks that every witch and wizard had. That would at least be a place to start.

  She smiled. "I'm one of you. A witch. You don't have to worry."

  I felt embarrassed that she'd caught me staring at her, but there was nowhere for me to hide in this cell, so I just owned up to it.

  "Sorry," I said. "For staring, I mean."

  "It's okay."

  "I don't recognize you. Are you from Mistmoor Point?"

  I was dying to know what she was in here for. The jail cells held so few people, it was rare that anyone was actually arrested for something in Sweetland Cove. Although since I'd moved here, murder and kidnapping seemed to be on the rise.

  "No, I'm from the mainland. I came down here to visit a friend."

  "Oh, the mainland. That's nice." I twiddled my thumbs, bored. Small talk was not always easy, especially under such strange circumstances. I was about to inquire on Florida's weather when I thought of a more slightly interesting topic. "Who's your friend?"

  "Wilma Trueheart. She just opened a bakery here."

  I willed my eyes not to bug out of my head. "You're friends with Wilma?"

  She nodded.

  "Yes. Well, we're not as close as we used to be, but still... I heard she was having a tough time making friends here and wanted to show her a little support. I even suggested she throw a welcome party. You know, invite the townsfolk and all that."

  "That was your idea? I was there."

  "Were you?" she asked, looking more closely at me. "Yes, I think I saw you. You were with someone... Lucy something. And the redhead."

  "Lucy Lockwood. The redhead is Felicity Redfern."

  She nodded as if she'd known that all along.

  It hadn't seemed to me like Wilma was having a tough time with anything. Her bakery lines were still plenty long despite the strange items people were finding in her pastries. Plus, she had a boyfriend, or whatever she considered Mayor Thomas to be. She wasn't exactly alone out here.

  "I'm Ava," I said. "Ava Fortune."

  "Karla Louis." We leaned across the cell and shook hands. She smiled as I sat back on my cot. "You're wondering what I'm in here for."

  I shrugged and blushed. "No," I lied. She looked at me with raised eyebrows. "Okay, yes, sure I am, but it's none of my business."

  "It's okay, I don't mind telling you." She paused, shifted toward me from her cot, and in a very dramatic voice said, "Murder."

  My eyes widened, and Karla suddenly burst into giggles.

  "I'm kidding! I'm in here because I got into a fight with someone at a bar. They claimed they found a fingernail clipping mixed in with their coconut crumble in one of Wilma's crumb cakes. Can you believe that? Anyway, I threw a hex at them. Just a little one though. I turned the woman who said it into a pelican."

  I suppressed a laugh. "A pelican? Not the one I saw out front last night."

  "That's the one."

  I tried to picture it again in my mind, putting a witch's face to the image of the bird, but came up empty. "Who was the woman?"

  "Oh, her name was Lottie something or other. She's a tired old gossip. No one likes her as far as I can tell."

  "Lottie Mudget?" I asked, laughing so hard that if I'd been drinking water, it would have come out my nose.

  "Yeah, I think that's it. You know her?"

  I nodded. "Yeah, and you’re right. She's the biggest gossip in Sweetland Cove."

  Karla smiled. "They said they'd let me out of here as soon as I agreed to turn her back to normal. But I'm still mad, so I'm making her wait." She looked at me, scrutinizing me again with her eyes. "What are you in here for?"

  "Attempted murder."

  She laughed, but it slowly faded when she realized I was serious.

  "Whose?" she breathed, looking more curious than frightened.

  "Grayson Redfern." I figured there was no point in lying about it. By this time, everyone on the island must have known what happened.

  "Wow. A murderer." She almost sounded in awe.

  "Attempted murder," I corrected. "And I didn't do it."

  "Seems like there's a lot of crime on your island. Since I've been here, one person's died and every other day it seems like someone else gets attacked."

  "Yeah, well... it's not always like that," I told her.

  "Hey, I'm not judging. At least the guy that actually got killed was Thaddeus Black. If anyone deserved to die, it was him." She wrinkled her nose, then saw my expression. "I know that sounds harsh, but if you knew Thaddeus well enough, you'd know I was right."

  "You knew Thaddeus Black?" I asked, picking my jaw up off the floor.

  "Yeah, he worked with my dad and Wilma's dad on the Council on Magic and Human Affairs a long time ago, in the curse removal department."

  "Your dad was a curse remover?"

  "Yeah, a darn good one, too. Not like Thaddeus."

  "Wait, I thought Thaddeus was one of the best curse remo
vers ever."

  "Ha! He wished. He was always making up stories and taking credit for other people's work. He couldn't remove a curse if his life depended on it. I guess, in the end, it did."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Years ago, Thaddeus tried to remove a curse from this twelve-year-old boy. It backfired and landed on him instead. He refused to let my father or Wilma's help him, and he's been plagued by bad luck ever since."

  "So, Wilma knew Thaddeus before she came here," I murmured. That explained why Thaddeus had hired her for his victory party.

  There was a loud noise from the end of the hallway.

  Eleanor's voice suddenly rang through the air.

  "I want to see her, Zane. NOW!"

  Karla shot me a worried look.

  "Just my aunt," I told her. "She's a little mad at the sheriff right now. They're sort of engaged."

  "Your aunt is engaged to Sheriff Knoxx? And he still arrested you? Ha! No wonder she's mad."

  Eleanor stomped down the hall toward my cell.

  "Eleanor, you can't be back here," Sheriff Knoxx pleaded with her.

  "That's what you think." Eleanor paused in front of my cell. "Ava, are you okay?"

  "Yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry."

  "Eleanor, please, you need to leave." Sheriff Knoxx looked equally annoyed and frantic. He gently tried to nudge her away from my cell and back down the hallway. She yanked her arm away and glared at him.

  "Don't worry," she told me, "we're working to get you out of here. You won't be here long. I promise you."

  Sheriff Knoxx sighed. "This is standard procedure."

  "It's standard procedure for your fiancé to arrest your niece like some common criminal? I thought we were past all that, Zane."

  "We are, but—"

  "You know what?" Eleanor said. "I'm tired of hearing you talk. This is your last chance. Let Ava out of here."

  "I can't do that," Sheriff Knoxx replied.

  "Well, then I can't marry you."

  Her words hung in the air. For a second, she looked surprised that she'd said them. She opened her mouth, and I thought she might take it back, but she didn't.

  "You don't mean that," Sheriff Knoxx said. He looked hurt.

  Eleanor rounded her shoulders back. "If you really loved me, you would never treat my family this way."

  I felt my heart rip in two watching them. I didn't know two people more in love than Eleanor and Sheriff Knoxx. This couldn't be for real.

  "I need you to leave," Sheriff Knoxx said quietly.

  "Fine, I'm going. But I meant what I said."

  Sheriff Knoxx nodded sullenly and followed her back down the hall, barely lifting his feet off the ground.

  * * *

  CHAPTER

  NINETEEN

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  * * *

  * * *

  .

  I woke up and lay still, listening to my breath with my eyes closed. For a moment, I thought I was home. Then I opened my eyes and remembered the ugly truth. I was still in Sweetland Cove Jail. And now, I was truly alone.

  Karla was gone. She'd finally relented around midnight and agreed to turn Lottie back into herself so that she could go home and get a good night's sleep. I'd heard from Elmer that Lottie had started plucking out her feathers, so I supposed it was a good thing that Karla was willing to change her back. Karla must have been a pretty powerful witch if no one else had managed to undo the spell she'd placed on Lottie.

  Before she left, Karla wished me luck and informed me she was getting off this island as fast as possible. "People here are weird," she'd said before leaving me alone in the cell.

  I wondered what Wilma would think about her friend's departure and made a mental note to ask Lucy and my aunts if any of them had seen Karla at Wilma's welcome party. I still wasn't sure that I remembered her. I was also dying to tell someone what she'd said about Thaddeus Black not being a real curse remover. He was just a big, fat phony.

  I heard the clank of a door opening from down the hall and expected to see Sheriff Knoxx or Otis coming by with breakfast. I'd heard that prison food was worse than hospital food and wasn't eager to test the theory out, but I was starving.

  It wasn't Sheriff Knoxx or Otis, though.

  "Dean Lampton?" I said, unable to hide the surprise in my voice.

  "Hello, Ava." He stood tall and confident, looking at me with equal amounts of pity and irritation. He clearly didn't want to be here.

  "What are you doing here?" I asked. "If you've come to grill me about attacking Grayson Redfern, I've got nothing to say about it. I've already told Sheriff Knoxx everything I know."

  "That's not why I'm here," he said, expelling a breath. "Colt asked me to come. He wants me to do him a favor."

  "He... he did?" I asked.

  Dean nodded.

  "Yes. I figured I owed him that much, considering everything he's been through with his father. He seems to think I'm responsible for making his life miserable. I tried to tell him we're all in charge of our own lives, but I guess the fact that I kept his father from him so long hasn't sat well with him."

  "What sort of favor did he ask you for?" I was starting to get excited. Dean was the head of the Council on Magic and Human Affairs. They regulated almost everything to do with the paranormal world, as well as its interactions with humans.

  "I called in a few special favors and got your bail posted. You're free to go."

  My eyes widened. "Are you serious? I can leave?"

  Knoxx suddenly appeared. His face was grim. I wanted to say something to him regarding Eleanor, how it would all work out, but I wasn't sure if that would help or only make things worse. His handcuffs jingled loudly as he walked down the hall toward my cell. He stopped next to Dean.

  "You told her?" Sheriff Knoxx asked. Dean nodded. Sheriff Knoxx could barely look me in the eye. "Ava, look, I'm sorry about all this."

  "I know," I told him. "It's okay. It's not your fault, I know that."

  He finally raised his eyes to mine. "Will you explain that to your aunt?"

  "I'll try." I knew that Eleanor was just mad, that she probably hadn't meant what she said the other day, but still... what if she decided to stay mad? Aunt Eleanor could have a vicious temper when she wanted to. Maybe I should talk to my dad and Trixie first, before I talked to her. If they agreed to back me up, tell her that Sheriff Knoxx was a good man and she was making a mistake letting him go, maybe she could be convinced.

  Sheriff Knoxx unlocked my cell, and I followed Dean back down the hall. Even before we opened the doors, I could hear the noise. It was like a million voices all talking at once.

  "What is that?" I asked Dean.

  He sighed. "I'm sorry about this. I tried to shake them but it's no use. There's too many."

  He opened the doors, and I saw a mass of reporters and photographers. They were all snapping pictures and shouting out questions, only I couldn't hear what they were asking because they were all talking over each other. It was chaos. I had no idea where they'd all come from or even why they were here.

  "What is this?" I asked. "Is this because of me?"

  Dean shook his head. "No. It's because of Russell. He's out."

  My eyes widened. "Out? You mean... like free?"

  "That's right," Dean said, though I wasn't sure he sounded very happy about it. "COMHA decided against incarceration, considering the circumstances. It was not a unanimous vote, but majority rules."

  "How did you vote?" I asked.

  Dean looked at me from the corner of his eye. "Like I said, it was not a unanimous vote."

  I knew then that he'd voted in favor of locking Russell up. He was probably feeling guilty about it and that's why he'd decided to help me when Colt asked. I was glad the rest of the council had decided to let Russell go. I understood Dean's point of view, but I didn't think he was a danger to anyone. Not anymore.

  Dean's cheeks turned slightly pink when someone pushed a microphone toward him
and asked, "Sir, is it true that you lied about Russell Hudson's existence for over a decade?"

  Dean pushed the microphone away. The question had clearly embarrassed him, or maybe egged on his guilt. Well, too bad. He should feel guilty. He was largely responsible for Colt's father being in the position he was currently in. If Dean had never sent him on that undercover mission or just told Colt the truth about his father while he had the chance, this might not have happened.

  A band of protestors with picket signs marched toward Dean. The signs read: VAMPIRES MUST ROT and RUSS MUST BE DUST. Not very original, but enough to get the point across. One of the reporters blocked Dean as we tried to get to his car.

  "Mr. Lampton, how does it feel to have a vampire like Russell Hudson out on bail?"

  "Feels fine," Dean replied casually. He had regained control of himself and there was no further sign of embarrassment or guilt. He was stoic, if nothing else.

  Another reporter jumped in, seizing his opportunity. "Have you spoken with Colt Hudson? How does he feel now that his father has been released into his custody?"

  I shot Dean a look. Russ was released into Colt's custody? I'd have to ask him about that when I had the chance.

  A third reporter jumped in. "Dean! Dean! Frampton Michaels of the Wizard's Gazette. This has been dubbed the most controversial case in COMHA history. Would you agree with that statement?"

  Dean pushed past the reporter. "I'd agree with anything to get out of here right now," he said and barreled through the reporters to his car, me trailing just behind him. We made it to the Lincoln Town Car he had waiting.

  "Drive!" Dean yelled.

  The driver took off, almost knocking over three reporters as he did so.

  "Wow!" I said. "This is crazy. It's a madhouse out there."

  "Yes, it is." Dean folded his arms across his chest and closed his eyes. He clearly didn't want to talk about it.

 

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