Witch Ball - BK 3

by Linda Joy Singleton

  When I slipped on my backpack, I bumped into the table. Jacques's binder and art history book started to fall, but I caught them. He was so into Penny-Love that he didn't notice. But when I glanced down I noticed something puzzling. There was an inked name on the binder.

  Only it wasn't Jacques.

  Jack Carney.

  I'd found Jack!

  But what should I do about it? If I asked him about the prediction in front of Penny-Love, she'd want to know why I hadn't just asked Manny. He should remember his own predictions-right?

  I stared at Jacques, dying to question him right away. But strategy was required. It wasn't like he was going to disappear, not with Penny-Love hanging onto him like a tight chain. I'd wait until she wasn't around, then talk to him privately like after school, when he was at his job. I'd find out where he worked and "accidentally" run into him.

  So I sucked up major self-control and left the cafeteria.

  As usual, Manny was in the computer lab, his fingers clicking across a keyboard. He glanced up, peering through a curtain of dreadlocks, not at all surprised to see me. "I figured you'd show up."

  "Why?" I scooted into a chair beside him. "You suddenly turn psychic?"

  "I wish. Nah, I just know you'd want to know what went down in fourth period."

  "Fourth period? Oh-K.C. Myers!" Memory clicked. He was right-I was curious. "Did you talk to him?"

  "He wasn't there."

  "So it was a scheduling mistake?"

  He shook his head. "Turns out he is in my class, but absent a lot."

  This made me think of Josh. Not knowing why he hadn't shown up made me worry, especially since I'd heard Evan was absent, too.

  "I can't figure out how I can have a class with K.C. and not know him," Manny was saying, gnaw ing on the end of a pencil. "Am I losing my journalistic edge? Usually I'm observant, but I'm drawing a blank on K.C. My teacher couldn't tell me much except he sits in the back and is quiet, average height, average build."

  "An average kid that no one remembers? He has to have some friends."

  "You'd think so, but I asked around and nada." Manny made a circle with his thumb and forefinger. "It's like he doesn't exist."

  "Well, he must because you found out his address and phone number."

  "No one answers at that number. You want to check out the address tonight?"

  "Wouldn't miss it."

  "Great." Manny glanced down at his leather watch. "Pick you up at seven?"

  "Sounds good."

  "It's a date.

  "Not a date," I corrected in a firm tone. "A business appointment."

  Manny threw back his head and laughed.

  Since Josh wasn't at school, I walked partway home with Penny-Love. She was floating on a romantic high and had only one topic of conversation: Jacques (AKA Jack Carney). This was fine with me because I wanted to know more about him.

  "His carnival booth was really popular," I said casually. "My sister loved the face painting he did for her."

  "He's so talented. I keep expecting him to be this temperamental artist, but he's always relaxed and says the sweetest things."

  "He seems cool." We waited at an intersection while a truck rumbled by. "I heard he went to Manny's booth. How'd that go?"

  "Fabuloso!" She practically skipped down the road. "The best prediction ever."

  "Really?"

  "Yeah. He didn't want to do it at first, but I dared him. I wanted to go with him, but he made me wait outside the booth where I couldn't hear anything."

  I smiled to myself. Penny-Love thrived on being in the middle of the action. Waiting must have driven her crazy. "So how did you find out about the prediction?" I asked.

  "Afterwards he told me."

  "And?" I paused on the sidewalk to face her.

  "He predicted Jacques would fall for a beautiful girl." She stretched out her arms, then pointed to herself. "Me!"

  "That's great." But not at all what I expected. Like going to a theater expecting to see a horror movie and finding a Disney cartoon. "You sure that's all Manny predicted?"

  "Isn't it enough? It's so cool we both have great guys." With her cheeks blushing nearly as red as her curly hair, she went on about love and dating. I nodded at the appropriate pauses, but my mind drifted. Why had Manny's prediction for Jacques been so different from the ones he gave Jill and me? Was the witch ball messing with us? Or maybe the psycho spirit attached to it liked Jacques better.

  After Penny-Love went on to her house, I spent some time with Nona. I felt encouraged as I watched my grandmother bustle around the kitchen, showing no signs of her illness. Vegetable stew simmered in the Crock Pot and warmed the kitchen with delicious aromas.

  When I asked Nona if I'd had any phone calls, she shook her head. So I tried josh's number, only the machine picked up. I'd already left two messages and had too much pride to leave a third. I even checked my email for a message from josh, but nothing. Skimming through my messages, I found a joke from Dad, two emails from Amy, one from Ashley, and a dozen spams that I instantly deleted.

  Unfortunately my problems didn't come with a delete button.

  I hopped on my bike and headed for the construction site where Penny-Love said Jacques worked. It wasn't too far, maybe three miles, in a part of town that used to be pasture but was quickly turning into new housing developments.

  Right away I spotted Jacques in a group of grubby guys in yellow hard hats, orange T-shirts, and grimy jeans. He wiped sweat off his forehead and raised his eyebrows when he noticed me standing outside the chain link fence.

  "Sabine?" he called, slipping a hammer through a loop in his work belt and climbing off a ladder. He met me outside the gate. "Watcha doing here?"

  "I was biking and ..." My mouth went dry; my courage faltered.

  Away from school, Jacques seemed older, rougher, and the narrow glint in his eyes bothered me. His tough-looking co-workers didn't reassure me, either. I recognized one of them from school; he was rumored to be involved in dealing drugs. Of course, rumors weren't always true.

  Jacques shifted on the oil-stained pavement as he faced me. "You okay?"

  "Yeah." I swallowed. "I wanted to ask you something, but if you're busy. . ."

  "Work can wait." He gave me a wink. "This something you'd rather Pen didn't hear?"

  "Well ... I guess."

  "You looking for some action?"

  I gave him a blank stare, my pulse jumping. I wasn't sure if he meant drugs or sex, and didn't want to find out.

  "No," I said coolly. "Definitely not."

  "Hey, I was just messing with you. I know you're cool." He patted my shoulder as if to reassure me-but it did the exact opposite. "So what'd ya want to ask?"

  "About the prediction you had at the carnival."

  "Oh that. I don't go in for that mystic stuff, but Pen insisted, so I figured what the hell?" He shrugged like he didn't take anything seriously, expecting life to be an easy ride where other people did the driving.

  "Did anything strange happen when you talked to Manny?"

  "Nothing, but that dude was totally stoned or something."

  You would make that assumption, I thought. I found myself liking him less and less. But I kept my opinions to myself. "Did the crystal ball seem ... odd?"

  "Yeah. There weren't any electric cords yet it blazed like it was on fire. It even floated off the table. Way cool! How'd he do that?"

  "Trick lighting."

  "Well, it blew me away. Best part of the show."

  "What'd you think of your prediction?"

  "Not much. " He spat into a pool of oil on the pavement. "Total bull."

  "But I thought you liked it. Penny-Love raved about how great it was."

  "That's cause I told her what she wanted to hear. Got to keep my girl happy," he said with another one of those smarmy winks. "She's a pushover for romantic crap."

  "So Manny didn't say you'd fall for a beautiful girl?"

  "Nah. I made that up."

  H
e grinned-then told me the real prediction.

  "You're supposed to fall off a horse?" I asked in amazement. It wasn't as sappy as falling for a beautiful girl, but definitely not what I expected. "Are you sure you heard him right?"

  "I wasn't hung over or anything if that's what you were thinking."

  "That's not what I meant." My hair fell across my face as I glanced over at the construction site. Falling off a roof or ladder would make sense, but a horse? This was an area zoned for new housing developments, not livestock. And Penny-Love told me Jacques lived in an apartment near Main Street.

  "I know what I heard," Jacques said defensively. "That mystic dude said all hollow-like, `You will suffer a severe injury from a fall off a horse.' But no way that's gonna happen."

  "How can you be sure?"

  "I'm allergic to horses. When I was a kid, I had to be rushed to the emergency room after riding a pony. Man, I almost died. After that I wouldn't even go near merry-go-round horses."

  "You don't ride at all?"

  "Never. I can't look at a horse without sneezing. I steer clear of the beasts."

  "That's great," I said, then noticed his look of surprise, and added that I meant it was great he wouldn't have a dangerous fall. But I was actually thinking it was great that his allergy prevented the prediction from coming true. If his prediction couldn't happen, the witch ball ghost had no real power. My prediction wasn't going to happen either.

  Jacques glanced over his shoulder to where a semitruck pulled into the site. "That all you need?"

  "Yeah."

  "I better get back to work," he said with a wave.

  I waved back, then hurried to my bike-eager to get away from him. His information may have been good news for me, but his whole sleazy attitude was bad news for Penny-Love. She thought Jacques was mellow because he was a creative artist. But I suspected it had more to do with drugs. When she found out, she was going to be devastated.

  Should I tell her? And if I did, would she believe me?

  Penny-Love wasn't the only one with a troubled romance.

  When I returned home, I found out that josh still hadn't called-and I blamed it on Evan. He must have carried out his threat and told josh all about me.

  Disappointment shifted into anger. I mean, so what if I'd kept a few secrets from josh? There were things he hadn't told me either, like all those meetings he had with his magician society. I respected his privacy, so he should respect mine. But the fact that he hadn't returned my calls proved otherwise. Well, fine! I didn't need someone around who was so quick to judge me. If he couldn't deal with my past, then I'd have to deal with losing him. Still, if the roles were reversed, I would have told me in person. Avoiding me was cowardly; not what I'd expect from josh.

  I was staring at the phone, dreading and hoping it would ring, when I heard gravel crunching. Glancing out the window, I saw a car coming down our driveway. My heart leaped and I hoped it was Josh. But no such miracle.

  Instead it was Manny, and he'd brought a surprise-Thorn.

  When Manny introduced me to Thorn, it had been mutual suspicions at first sight. She had a personality as prickly as her nickname. Her multiple piercings, exaggerated makeup, and morbid black outfits screamed rebel, while I was into casual, brand-name styles. But Manny pushed us together, and we'd become friends. Not that this went over well with my other friends, especially Penny-Love who had a low opinion of Goths.

  I'd gotten closer to Thorn on the trip to Pine Peaks, learning her real name (Beth), her true hair color (dark blond), and her mother's profession (minister).

  Today she wore black leather pants, a black jacket, a spiked collar, and a belt woven with barbed wire. But instead of her black shoes, she wore bright pink sneakers that matched the pink rhinestone pierced through her eyebrow.

  "Pink is the new black," Thorn said when she caught me staring. "I'm thinking of getting a pinkand-black wig."

  "Go for it." I grinned.

  "Manny filled me in on the weird predictions and I couldn't resist coming along. I hope it's okay."

  "It's better than okay," I told her honestly. She was the first person my age I'd met with a psychic ability, although she downplayed her skill for finding things as just a game. It had been more than a game when she helped find a classmate who was bleeding to death. Her game had helped save a life.

  "I figure I can help you guys," Thorn said as she buckled up in the front seat.

  "Because you're a Finder?" Manny teased, knowing Thorn hated labels, especially on her.

  "Not even." She shot him a scathing look. "I can help cause I have a friend who lives in the same apartment building."

  I pulled against my seatbelt, leaning forward from the backseat to face Thorn. "Does your friend know K.C.?"

  "No. She says I must have the wrong apartment number, because only a woman and a girl live there."

  A thought hit me I hadn't considered before. "Could K.C. be a girl?"

  Manny shook his head. "Not according to the school records."

  "Maybe he moved and didn't tell the school," Thorn suggested.

  "Easy enough to check out. There's something weird about a dude no one knows."

  "Nothing wrong with being independent, not a follower," Thorn said with a critical glance at me.

  "He could be shy," I said a bit defensively.

  "Or invisible," Manny joked. He clicked the right-hand signal, then drove down a street with few lights and fewer street signs.

  Not the best part of town, I thought uneasily as I noticed seedy figures milling around corners. Thorn directed Manny to a shabby three-story apartment complex. Even in the dim light, it was clear it needed a paint job and new roof. We found stairs and walked up to the third floor.

  "You girls wait here," Manny said as we neared apartment 34C. "I'll go ahead to check things out."

  "And have all the fun without us?" Thorn retorted. "I don't think so."

  "It's safer for only one of us to go ahead."

  "So why should it be you? Because you're a guy?" Thorn arched her pink-studded brow. "FYI- I've taken self-defense and kick-boxing lessons. You, on the other hand, freak out over a paper cut."

  "Just that one time," Manny insisted. "My thumb was bleeding."

  "Wimp."

  "Well you're a heartless-"

  "Enough." I stepped between them. "This is my problem, so I'll go ahead."

  Before they could stop me, I pushed past them to knock on the door. Glancing behind me, I put my fingers to my lips, gesturing for them to stay back.

  When I heard footsteps behind the door, I forced a calm expression. A lifetime of pretending not to see ghosts or hear spirits made it easy to mask my emotions. Only my pounding heart betrayed my anxiety. What was I doing here anyway? If K.C. answered the door, what should I say to him? I couldn't just blurt out, "Had any death predictions lately?"

  So I was kind of relieved when a middle-aged woman answered the door. She had tired lines etched in her skin and her black hair was tied back in a scarf. She gave me a dismissive look. Her hand clutched the knob, poised to slam the door in my face.

  "I'm not buying anything," she said briskly.

  "Good, because I'm not selling."

  "Then what do you want?"

  Deep breath. "I'm looking for K.C. "

  "Why?" she demanded. "What do you want with him?"

  "We, uh, go to school together. Does he live here?"

  "Of course he does, I never said he didn't. I'm responsible for him after all."

  "Are you his mother?"

  "Do I look old enough to have a teenager?" She glared at me, and I was glad she didn't wait for an answer. "His mother is my oldest sister, only she went and got her butt thrown in jail, so I took in K.C. and his sister."

  "That was kind of you." I tried to look behind her, hoping for a glimpse of K.C., but saw no movement except the flash of a TV. "May I speak to K.C.?"

  "No, 'cause he's not here. He's out with friends."

  "What friends?" I
asked, surprised.

  "Who can keep up?" She shrugged. "He's so popular, always rushing off to parties and school activities."

  Popular? Parties? Were we talking about the same person?

  "Do you know his friends addresses or phone numbers?" I asked. "It's really important I talk to him."

  "About what?" She eyed me suspiciously.

  "Uh ... a school project. When do you expect him back?"

  "I'm not his secretary. And I got enough to deal with my niece, so if you don't mind, I have to get back to-"

  "Wait!" I stuck my foot in the doorway. "Could I talk with your niece? Maybe she knows-"

  "Zoey's only five and doesn't know anything. Don't bother me anymore."

  Then she kicked my foot aside and slammed the door in my face.

  "I feel sorry for Zoey," Thorn said, coming up beside me. "That woman is a walking bad attitude."

  "I didn't handle that very well," I said with an apologetic shrug. "I should have let you guys talk."

  "You were fine," Manny assured.

  "Except for calling her old and getting the door slammed in my face." I sighed. "Now how do we find K.C.?"

  Manny turned to Thorn. "Do your `finder' thing."

  "Not so easy. I'd have to hold something that belongs to him. It's not likely that woman will give us anything."

  "I picked up this weird vibe from her, like she was afraid of something or someone." It was hard to explain the uneasy feeling that nagged at me. It came with colors of grays and reds-but no clear answers.

  "So who's she afraid of?" Thorn said. "What if K.C. is the violent type?"

  "We better find out." Manny rubbed his chin and stared thoughtfully at the closed apartment door. "Let's go talk to some neighbors."

  No one answered in the first two apartments we tried, although I sensed movement beyond the peepholes. I guess people around here were naturally suspicious. An elderly man who was hard of hearing, which made questioning him impossible, opened the third door. At least someone answered at our fourth try-a dude with a shaved head who had wrestling blaring on his TV. But when we asked about K.C., he said he'd never heard of the guy.