Witch Way Did He Go?

by Dakota Cassidy

  I held up my hand with the Ring Ding still in it as I grabbed the milk. “Wait. Don’t tell me. You, on a super-spy mission, in a super-secret land, with a super-secret gadget, foiled a super-bad guy at Fort Knox, right?” I teased on a giggle, pushing the rest of my Ring Ding in my mouth and grabbing a glass.

  There was a pause, and then he said, quite dryly, I might add, “No. I was going to say they have a lovely tour at Fort Knox—spies sanctioned by MI6 only, of course. It’s not open for mere mortals like yourself. And how can one foil a super-secret bad guy in a super-secret land if Fort Knox is in Kentucky and not a secret at all, Stephania?”

  “Ahahahahaha!” Belfry laughed. “He’s got ya there, Stevie!”

  Arkady laughed his deep gurgling laugh, too. “Oh, my lovely daffodil. You make every day so wonderful.”

  Pulling my sweater tighter around me, I took a gulp of my milk and shoved the carton back in the fridge. “You men! You’re all such men!”

  “Indeed,” Win agreed on a chuckle. “Now, can we carry on and stop dillydallying? We have a feast to plan, and while I know you don’t enjoy the strategy of it all, you’ll thank me when you don’t have to lift a lovely finger, Dove. So enough of your tomfoolery. Let us complete this eve’s task at hand.”

  I went and sat back at the table and waited for him to finish, dropping my chin into my hand as, once more, I scrolled my list of grocery items the caterers weren’t handling like the salads and crudités.

  Clearing my throat, I drummed my fingers on the table and looked up. “Win? We left off on radicchio. What’s next?”

  I was greeted with nothing but the sound of Arkady’s light snoring. He must have nodded off from sheer boredom. And seriously, who could blame him? If I loved anything less than actually shopping for the food, it was writing the list for the food we needed to buy.

  Now I became annoyed. With a frown, I called, “Win? Hello up there? Weren’t you the one who said we had to get ’er done? Let’s get ’er done.”

  I cocked an ear and waited, but still there was nothing but the sound of Arkady’s light snoring and Whiskey’s heavy breathing as he slept.

  Pushing myself away from the table, I clicked my phone off and tucked my hands into the sweater Carmella had so lovingly knitted for me as I made my way out of the kitchen and toward the living room.

  Just before I crossed the threshold into the entryway, I gave him one last chance. “All right, Grudgy, this is your last opportunity to speak now or forever hold your peace.”

  Pausing by the table against the side of our spiral staircase, I dusted off a fake leaf in the large fall arrangement and waited again. “Crispin Alistair Winterbottom, stop being a curmudgeon. I was only joking. You can have your radicchio, okay?”

  Whiskey moaned as he trailed behind me, his big paws padding on the hardwood.

  “Wow,” Belfry commented on a chirp as he took off again, circling the high ceiling of the entryway. “Sir Crankypants is on the warpath tonight, huh?”

  “I was just teasing him, for pity’s sake,” I mumbled as I wandered into the living room and plopped down on our sofa.

  Belfry landed on my shoulder, burrowing into my hair. “And it’s not like he can’t appreciate a good joke. He’s always crackin’ with the wise. Maybe he’s got some kind of ghostly affliction and it’s giving him bad tummy?”

  Clicking on the TV, I scrolled our DVR for one of my favorite shows. “He doesn’t get bad tummy, Belfry. Ghosts don’t get bad anything. He’s just being a chump.” I looked up at the ceiling. “Hear that, Win? You’re being a little childish. No. You’re being a lot childish, but you let me know when you’re done, and if I’ve had my fill catching up on 90 Day Fiancé, maybe—maybe—I’ll consider finishing our grocery list.”

  I muted the television and listened again, but still nothing.

  Dang. Not even a peep.

  “Okay, but you’re going to regret not telling me what type of potatoes you want when T-Day comes and we only have the kind Philistines use.”

  Belfry chuckled, but that was the only sound in the room save for the roaring fire Enzo had built for me, because he knew how much I loved coming home to one.

  Fine then, I decided as I pulled the soft throw over my legs and hunkered down on the couch to catch up on some of my shows.

  But not before I stuck my tongue out at the ceiling.

  Take that, Fancy Pants McGee!

  Chapter 2

  “My malutka?” I heard Arkady whisper in my ear, his Russian accent pronounced by his closeness.

  My eyes popped open, and I caught a glimpse of the old antique clock on the buffet by the fireplace Win had talked me into buying when we’d gone antiquing in Seattle one day.

  I squinted. It was four in the morning. Arkady never, ever awakened me. Never. Not once. And Win had only roused me once himself.

  Reaching out a hand, I felt around and realized I wasn’t in my bed but still on the couch.

  Shoot. I hated falling asleep on the couch then having to haul myself up that long flight of stairs to my bedroom. Also, I had a serious crick in my neck and drool at the corner of my mouth.

  “Malutka!”

  “What?” I almost yelled, stirring Whiskey, who still lay at my feet. “What’s going on, Arkady?”

  “You must rise, now, malutka!” he insisted with such urgency, it was as though he’d actually used a hand to shake me.

  I yawned and stretched, rolling my head on my neck to ease the kinks. “What’s wrong, Arkady? What’s so important?”

  Looking back now, I realize I should have been far more alarmed that he’d woken me than I actually was.

  “It’s Zero, Stevie.”

  “Oh no,” I chastised with a shake of my finger and another yawn. “I’m not finishing his grocery list now. No way, Jose. He was behaving like a two-year-old tonight by stomping off in the middle of our conversation. He’ll just have to wait until tomorrow because—”

  “Stephania!”

  I clamped my mouth shut and looked at the dying embers of the fire, my head cocked in confusion.

  Okay, that was two nevers in one night. Arkady never woke me in the middle of the night, and he never called me Stephania. That was reserved for Win and Win alone.

  So what the heck?

  I slid to the end of the couch and reached down to run my hand over Whiskey’s head, letting him know it was time for bed. “What, Arkady? What’s going on?”

  “I can’t find Zero anywhere, my malutka. He is…” He paused, then inhaled as though it were a chore to form the words. “He is gone!”

  I made a face. “He’s not gone. He’s probably off flirting with the ladies on Plane Limbo’s version of Tinder. In fact, I’ll bet his finger’s sore from swiping right so much.”

  Did that sound a little jealous? Petty? I try not to let that seep into my conversations with Arkady or Belfry, but every once in a while, I still felt those pangs about Win and his ex, Miranda, and my insecurities take over.

  I have no right to be jealous. It isn’t as though Win’s professed his undying love to me or we’re a couple, but the kind of love Win had once felt for Miranda was something to be envied, even if I didn’t have feelings for him at all.

  But in honor of our friendship, and due to my deep respect for Win, I kept my inner demons to myself.

  “Bah, malutka!” Arkady admonished. “There is no swipe anything here, and Zero would not swipe even if he could. You must listen to me, he is gone, I say!”

  I pushed my feet into my slippers and cuddled Belfry, who’d wormed his way into the pocket of my sweater. Patting Whiskey on the head to indicate this time it was really time for bed, I made my way to the stairs.

  “Malutka?”

  I gripped the banister and headed toward bed. “He’s not gone. He’s just off doing Win things, Arkady. He does that all the time, doesn’t he?”

  It was my understanding that Win roamed freely all over Plane Limbo, and there were plenty of activities to attend.
I didn’t understand the uproar or the tone of voice Arkady was using—so urgent and almost fearful.

  “This is what I try and tell you, malutka. He does not do these things all the time. He never does these things. He is always here with me. Right next to me on our bench.”

  “You have a bench?”

  I’m not sure why that was so important to me, but I rather liked knowing they had a place to sit.

  “Yes, right by the waterfall. But is that really important right now, kumquat?” he growled in my ear.

  “By a waterfall? That sounds lovely.”

  I reached the top of the stairs and stopped, admiring the long settee covered in embroidered silk pillows we’d placed beneath the bank of windows overlooking our backyard. The moon, high in the sky and no longer covered by clouds, shone through the squeaky-clean windows, glazing the soft eggshell fabric with a soft glow.

  “Malutka!” Arkady all but shouted, his panic evident. “Why will you not listen to me?”

  I flapped a hand and padded down the hall to the most amazing bedroom ever. There were days I couldn’t believe how lucky I was to have such a gorgeous place to lay my head.

  “I am listening, Arkady, and I don’t think you need to worry. But tell me this. Does he have to stay near you all the time? Is that some Plane Limbo law? Or does he simply choose to stay near you?”

  Right here, right at this juncture of our conversation, I should have paid closer attention. For all intents and purposes, Win and Arkady are tethered to me. In essence, they go where I go.

  They can mute a conversation out of respect for my privacy. They can roam Plane Limbo quite freely, but they can’t stray very far on the earthly plane without me. It’s one of the downfalls we joke about all the time when it comes to solving a crime.

  If only they could leave my side and see what a suspect is up to when no one is looking or even call for help when I’m in a pickle, I probably wouldn’t have as many scars as I do.

  I guess I’d never asked if they were also tethered to each other. Still, the whole idea of being tethered should have raised some red flags for me, but I was too stuck on the idea that Win was messing with me.

  Arkady huffed as I pulled back the covers of my warm comforter and hopped into my bed, the most beautiful bed, built into the wall, with bookshelves above my head and sitting under a round window.

  “You do not understand. I will explain. No, he does not have to stay with me. Yes, he chooses to, but this is not like Zero! He does not wander off this way. I have looked all over Plane Limbo for him. I have asked everyone where could he be? No one knows. I cannot find him, malutka! Why will you not trust me when I tell you this is cause for alarm?”

  I patted the bed so Whiskey would hop up next to me. I loved stroking his soft fur as I fell asleep. “Of course I trust you, Arkady. I’d trust you with my life. I just feel like Win’s making a point, and I’m okay with that. I was teasing him overmuch about this Thanksgiving Day thing. So he’s in a huff right now, but he’ll snap out of it.”

  “Aha! But have you ever known Zero to go off in, as you say, huff over something so silly? Nyet! He never does this. He is tough as screws. Why would he make with the mad about a salad? That should be first clue something has happened.”

  Okay, that did make me pause. It was true. Win could take a joke…but maybe I’d been teasing him all this time and he’d been putting on a good face? Maybe I’d finally managed to worm my way under his skin, and this was his way of telling me he couldn’t take another second of my Philistine-esque ways?

  So I brushed off the notion as I hunkered down under my delightful comforter and told Alexa to turn off the lights.

  “It’s nails. He’s tough as nails. And I think I finally got to him, Arkady. You know how that goes, right? Sometimes you go along for the ride until you can’t grit your teeth anymore and then you explode. I bet that’s what happened. It’s not like we haven’t argued over a meal before. Remember our end-of-the-summer barbecue, when he insisted the lemonade had to be hand-squeezed by a Dutch virgin from the Himalayan Mountains or some such nonsense?”

  I giggled at the memory as I ran my hand over Whiskey’s ears.

  “Oh, he did not, malutka. The Himalayas are not Dutch. And he say we should not serve frozen lemonade to valued guests.”

  My eyes began to close and I yawned again. “Yeah, yeah. Do you also remember how many lemons it took to make one stinkin’ glass, and the hissy fit of all hissy fits he pitched when he realized I’d snuck in some concentrated lemonade?”

  Arkady sighed a raspy, irritated sigh. “Now, now. You did tell story to him, Stevie. You pretend you spend all morning squeezing lemons when really you busy getting legs waxed.”

  Even as sleepy as I was, I managed to bark a laugh, tucking my hand under my chin. “Yeah, I did, didn’t I? And I still don’t regret it. What I’m saying here is, Win’s very particular, and I love that about him…mostly. I really do, but this Thanksgiving dinner and my pointing and laughing could have been his last straw.”

  “What does dinner have to do with straw? I do not understand Americans and their strange speak.”

  “Meaning, he finally became fed up enough to need a break from all my teasing. Ooor you guys are messing with my head.”

  Now that was a possibility, too. Maybe they were pranking me?

  “Why I mess with head? I do not understand this mess with head,” Arkady balked.

  Uh-huh. “It just means you guys are maybe playing a joke on me to teach me a lesson?”

  “Bah! This is no joke, my cinnamon bun. No joke.”

  Hmmm. I still wasn’t sure that was true. Regardless, I conceded because I needed some sleep.

  “Listen, if this isn’t some joke you two hatched up—and I’m not convinced it isn’t—I promise you, I’ll apologize to him tomorrow over breakfast, okay? I’ll even eat a healthy breakfast that doesn’t consist of some form of cake in a foil wrapper.”

  Arkady huffed again, long and drawn out. “Maybe you are right, but I will tell you now, as the mother country is my witness, I do not like. I do not like this at all. Remember Arkady say this tomorrow when you eat healthy breakfast and Win is still nowhere to be found.”

  Sighing with pleasure in my cocoon of warmth, I nodded and murmured, “I’ll remember. I promise, Arkady. Now grab another nap or something and Win’ll be back before you know it.”

  And then I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep, warm and a tiny bit remorseful I’d made Win stomp off in a ghostly fit of temper.

  But I really intended to apologize tomorrow.

  Swear.

  As I dabbed on a smidge of perfume and grabbed one of my favorite scarves, a vintage Hermes in rust and gold, I smiled into the mirror as I caught a glimpse of the day outside.

  The wind had died down since last night, and a muted sun was peeking through the clouds, a rarity for this time of year in Eb Falls. The fall colors outside my bathroom window, situated just above my claw-foot tub, were fading as the leaves fell from the trees, but there was still enough to leave me invigorated by the crisp tones.

  I tickled Belfry’s belly, making the leaf of the large elephant ear plant he snoozed on shift. “Hey, you awake, lover? You don’t think I’m going to the grocery store all alone, do you, buddy? I imagine once we’re done making this infamous list, we’ll need two shopping carts. I need support. So up and at ’em.”

  Bel stretched his tiny wings, letting them fan out before he yawned wide. “You think Win’s over his pout?”

  I ran a brush through my hair, tucking it behind my ears, letting the soft curls fall to the top of my collarbones before I straightened the buttons on my purple faux-silk blouse and tucked the front of it into my jeans.

  “So you heard the conversation I had with Arkady?”

  “Yep,” he said on another yawn. “Enough to know Win’s a little bent out of shape. Though, it’s not really like him to storm off. In fact, it’s pretty weird, but we all have our limits, I suppose.
”

  I grabbed a pair of small stud earrings from my jewelry box and put them on. “Yeah. It’s not like him at all, but maybe he just hit a wall. Either way, I’ll make it right. So, c’mon. Get up and let’s grab some breakfast before we tackle the grocery store. We need sustenance to survive what I’m sure is the first of many trips into town.”

  Belfry chuckled as I left him to his morning routine and headed downstairs to feed Whiskey and Strike before eating that healthy breakfast I’d promised Arkady I’d have in Win’s honor.

  As I entered the kitchen, the sun pushing its way through the overcast day, painting a beautiful orange and gold glow over the table, I paused for only a moment as I waited for Win to greet me before I went to the pantry to fill Whiskey’s bowl and grab some seed for Strike.

  When I’d finished the task of feeding the animals and silence still rang throughout the kitchen, I gave in with a smile.

  “Okay, Spy Guy. You win. Joke’s over. I was wrong to tease you about Thanksgiving dinner. Your eye for detail is, bar none, masterful, and I bow to you, sensei. I apologize for teasing you about how nitpicky you can be. Now, can we cut this out and finish this T-Day list? I do have other things I want to do today, like finish watching 90 Day Fiancé. I fell asleep in the middle of it, and I won’t be able to think straight until I know what happened to Nicole and Azan in Morocco.”

  Pausing, I cocked my head and leaned on the island, running my hands over the smooth, cold marble. “Wiiin. C’mon. Come out, come out wherever you are, or I’m going to have Twinkies and Swedish Fish for breakfast!”

  Nothing. Still absolutely nothing. Cupping my chin in my hands, I sighed.

  “Malutka,” Arkady called out, somber and husky.

  I grinned and stood up straight at the sound of Arkady’s voice. Well, at least someone was awake up there. “Yes, my borscht-loving Russian Angel?”

  “Win is still not here on bench. Did Arkady not tell you last night this would happen?”

  Chapter 3