The Trouble with Witches
Page 15
“Not funny,” she said with a toss of her head. “Did you see the dark circles under your eyes? Did you notice how pale you are?”
“Abby might have mentioned it,” I replied grudgingly.
“You’re so worried about everyone else that you’re not taking care of yourself.” She eyed me critically. “I’ve got to tell you, Ophelia, you’re starting to look positively haggard.”
“Thanks a lot,” I sputtered.
“Well you are. We’re worried about you.” Darci stomped her bare foot. “You’ve been here, what four, maybe five days? And look at everything that’s happened to you. Dreams, evil cabins, threats from some crazy guy. It’s getting to you. You’re even losing weight.”
“Hey, a few pounds wouldn’t hurt,” I said with a smile, trying to defuse the apprehension I felt pouring off of her.
“That’s not funny, either.”
“Look, Darce, I appreciate your concern, but maybe I’m coming down with a summer cold or something.”
“I don’t think so. And neither does Abby.” Darci flounced over to the swim deck. “I brought you out here to get away from the cabin for a while and from all the stress.” She spread out a beach towel and dropped down on her knees. “And you’re going to relax, gosh darn it,” she said, shaking her finger at me.
I chuckled. “Yes ma’am.” I saluted.
Darci rolled her eyes, and without a word stretched out facedown on the beach towel.
Still smiling, I walked over to the starboard bench, sat, propped my legs up, and stared down into the water.
The water below the pontoon was deep, but clear enough that I could see the lacy fronds of weeds growing on the bottom. The waves hitting the shore rocked the boat gently. I tipped my head back and closed my eyes.
They shot open. Remembering what had happened the day on the dock when I’d closed my eyes, I decided maybe I should keep them open.
I returned to watching the underwater plants sway in rhythm with the waves. A turtle glided by, his dark shape almost hidden in the vegetation. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted a flash of orange among the weeds. Turning my head, I looked hard at the place where I’d first seen the flash. Nothing. Probably a fish trying to hide from the turtle.
The roar of a speedboat caught my attention. Over the sound of its engine, I heard whistling and yelling. Looking toward the sound, I saw the boat zooming close to where we were anchored. One guy drove, while two guys stood straight up in the boat, waving their arms, yelling and smiling.
Ahh, yes. Darci in her bikini.
She lifted her head, gave them a passing glance, then ignored them.
The driver of the boat, seeing Darci’s reaction, cut hard to the left, away from us, and went back the way they’d come.
The wake created by the sharp turn stirred the water around the pontoon forcefully. I looked over the side and saw the weeds whip back and forth. Again I caught a glimpse of something orange. It appeared to be orange fibers weaving in and out of the fronds. The fibers glided upward, freed by the churning water. And as they did, they grew in quantity. More strands emerged out of the depths of the lake. They undulated in the current and were attached to something white and pasty. The pale belly of what looked like a dead fish rose with the strands.
The fish grew bigger as it approached the surface. Only as it came into sight, I could see it wasn’t a fish. No fins, no gills, no tail.
Instead of a fish head attached to the end of the cracked, bloated flesh, a hand drifted in the water, its fingers flopping in a macabre wave.
I’d found a body.
Twenty-one
I sat bundled on the couch in a blanket that Abby had found in the closet. And in spite of the hot August day, my shoulders shook with trembling and my muscles tightened with tension. Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt now, I clenched a steaming mug of tea in my hands
Darci, also wearing jeans and a shirt, fared a little better than I did. She didn’t have the shakes, but her normally tan face was three shades whiter than milk. Her hands also gripped a large mug of Abby’s tea.
Peppermint tea could settle the stomach; spearmint tea would help with colds and flu; chamomile tea could provide a good night’s sleep. But I didn’t know if Abby had a specific tea to help someone who kept finding bodies.
If she did, I hoped I was drinking it now.
We had returned to the cabin immediately after our discovery and reported what we’d found to the sheriff. Darci had done well, kind of, for finding her first body. She hadn’t screamed, cried, or jumped up and down. She did almost pick off two skiers with the pontoon in her haste to get back to the cabin. But after achieving a spectacular wipe-out and uttering a few profanities and remarks concerning blondes, the skiers survived.
Not like the person we found floating by the island. Who was it and how did they die? Okay, Jensen, face it, said a voice in my head. Orange hair, been missing for two months. Who do you think it is?
Brandi.
I hadn’t told the sheriff when he took my statement about my suspicions. It was up to the law to figure out the who, the how, and the when. Rick had asked us to find her, and we did. Our job was done.
Poor Rick. We’d called him after the sheriff. He’d shown up at the same time and, using his job as a journalist as an excuse, had talked the sheriff into allowing him to witness the divers retrieve the body. Tough job—observing the body of a young woman he’d watched grow up as it was hauled out of the lake.
But something was off and I couldn’t put my finger on it. My mind circled back to my original question while I sipped my tea. Who did I think it was?
My answer had been Brandi. The answer explained where she was now, but where had she been for the last two months? I didn’t know much about forensics, but I assumed that a body left in the water for two months wouldn’t look like what I’d seen.
I looked at Abby standing by the sliding glass doors and watching out over the lake.
“Abby, do you think she’s been dead all this time?” I asked.
She continued to stare out the doors.
“Abby,” I said louder.
Slowly she turned her head toward me. “What?”
“I asked if you thought Brandi’s been dead all this time.”
“I don’t know,” she said, passing a hand over her eyes.
Her action concerned me. “Abby, are you all right?” I made a move to leave my cocoon on the couch.
“Sit down,” she said, waving me back to my place. “I’m fine, but I’m confused. I would’ve sworn the girl was still alive.”
“For a couple of psychics, there’s sure a lot we don’t know,” I said ruefully.
Darci frowned. “What do you mean?”
I crawled out from underneath the blanket. “Except for some eerie dreams and the freaky experience at the cabin, I haven’t picked up anything. It’s like I’m blocked. The runes aren’t even talking to me.”
“What about you?” Darci asked, turning to Abby.
Abby didn’t speak for a moment. She simply stood by the door rubbing her arms. I thought she’d missed the question.
“Let’s go out on the deck,” she said abruptly, and slid the door open.
Queenie had been lurking around Abby’s feet, and when the door opened, she made a break for the great outdoors. Lady was right on her heels.
“Queenie!” I shrieked. “Get back in here. Lady, stop.”
Abby tried grabbing Lady’s collar but missed. She hurried out the door after the animals.
Darci and I followed.
Lady had stopped at the end of the deck, but Queenie had made it as far as the trees. She stopped, and with a look at me that said “Leave me alone,” calmly sat down and began to clean her fur.
I made a move to go fetch her, but Abby’s hand on my arm stopped me.
“Let her be. She’ll be fine. I’ll keep an eye on her so she doesn’t wander off,” Abby said.
At the sound of Abby’s voice, Lady cocked her head, a
nd Abby scratched her ears. Reassured she wouldn’t have to return inside, she picked out a corner of the deck and lay down.
Each of us found our own spot, Darci on one of the chaise lounges, and Abby and me in chairs. The sun chased away the last bit of my trembling, and my tension melted away.
I noticed Abby seemed more relaxed, too.
I repeated the question Darci had asked. “Abby, are you sensing anything?”
She tucked a stray strand back into the braid circled around the top of her head. “Yes. No. Maybe,” she said, her tone uncertain.
“That’s pretty noncommittal,” I said with a smile.
Abby shrugged slightly. “I know.” She stared at the trees across the lake. “There’s something at work here, but I can’t put my finger on it. It’s elusive, it plays in the shadows. What’s more, it’s intentional. Whatever it is, it knows we’re here and it’s teasing us.”
“Do you think it’s a ghost?” Darci asked in a hushed voice.
I glanced at Abby. She raised her eyebrows but didn’t speak.
“Let’s forget about ghosts and things that go bump in the night, shall we?” I watched both of them. “The problem at hand is, where has Brandi been for the last two months, and did she drown, or was it murder?”
There. I’d laid the question eating at all of us on the line.
“Abby, what do you think?” I asked.
She lifted her shoulder and shook her head.
“Darci, what about you?”
“Me?” she asked, surprised.
“Yeah, you. You’re a smart woman. What do you think?”
“Hmm—well, I don’t think the body has been in the water for two months. That means either she’s been here at the lake the whole time and hiding, or left and came back. Both case scenarios are suspicious.”
“I agree,” I said. “Next question—do we stick around and find out what happened, or do we leave and let the sheriff figure it out?”
“I think, before you decide to leave, you should take Abby and pay a visit to the Finches,” Darci said with a thoughtful expression on her face.
“Why?” I leaned forward. “I was there last night and didn’t pick up on anything. Juliet explained away my concerns about Tink—the changes in her personality aren’t due to abuse. It’s because the kid’s zoned out on meds most of the time. The Finches are only a couple trying to do their best to raise a child with some serious problems.” I shook my head. “And Jason isn’t the Rasputin Rick seems to think he is.”
Darci gave a little pout. “I still think you should go.”
Giving up on her, I turned to Abby. “Do you think we should talk to the Finches?”
“I suppose,” she said, her voice sounding troubled.
Watching her, I frowned. “Abby, what’s with you today?”
Her face cleared and she smiled. “Nothing, dear. I’m sorry if my behavior is worrying you. I’m puzzled, that’s all.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Are you sure?”
Her smile widened. “Yes, I’m sure. Come on, let’s go,” she said, rising. Her smile left her face and she reached in her pocket and pulled something out. “Darci, I want you to carry this.”
Abby handed her a small crystal.
Darci turned the rock over in her hand. “What is it?”
“A piece of hematite. You’ve had a bad experience today. The hematite will help absorb the negativity.”
“Okay,” Darci said, her tone bright. She stuck the crystal in her pocket and smiled up at Abby.
Abby returned her smile.
I crossed to the door and slid it open, but before I could step into the cabin, Abby called out.
“Wait, Ophelia. Let’s go around through the yard.”
I looked over my shoulder at her standing by the steps leading down to the side of the cabin. “But I don’t have my keys to the SUV.”
“I have mine.” She jingled a set of keys in the air.
With a shake of my head, I closed the door and followed Abby. “Hey Darci, keep an eye on the cat, will you?” I called over my shoulder.
“No problem,” she answered distractedly.
Taking a quick look, I saw Darci wasn’t paying attention to our departure. She had the crystal in her hand, studying it.
After we were out of Darci’s hearing, I shot a look at Abby. “Why did you give Darci a crystal?”
“She needed it,” she replied, climbing the hill to the SUV.
“To disperse the negativity?” I asked.
“Among other things,” she said, outdistancing me.
I scrambled to catch up with her. “What other things?”
“Protection.”
All the way over to the Finches, I tried to get Abby to explain to me what she meant by “protection,” but she waved my questions aside. We also decided not to be the ones to mention the body found in the lake. If Juliet knew, we’d let her bring it up first. Arriving at the compound, we found the gate open and drove through.
It had been dark when I’d arrived last night, but now I could see how the compound was laid out. To our left there was a large vegetable garden. Two men worked in it, hoeing weeds. Beyond the garden, a distance away, I made out the white tops of bee supers.
Juliet answered the door when I knocked.
“Ophelia, nice to see you again,” she said with a questioning look.
A look that said, “What are you doing here?” Dang, I hadn’t thought of an excuse for suddenly appearing at the Finches’ door.
“Ahh, hi Juliet. Ahh, I thought—” My mind scrambled for a reason to explain our presence.
Abby took charge and stepped forward, extending her hand. “Juliet, I’m Abigail McDonald, Ophelia’s grandmother,” she said easily. “Sorry to drop in unannounced like this, but I wanted to meet you.”
Smooth, Abby. Give her the truth, but not the whole truth.
Juliet took Abby’s hand in both of hers. “Oh, Mrs. McDonald—”
Abby broke in. “Please, call me Abby.”
“All right, Abby.” Juliet flushed with pleasure. “I’d hoped I would meet you. Please come in.” She released Abby’s hand and motioned us into the main room. “I don’t know what Ophelia has told you about our little group, but we’re conducting psychic research. And I know you’re very gifted,” she said, her face shining with admiration. “Winnie told us how you handled the boy in the grocery store. I’d love to ask you some questions.” She followed us.
Abby turned to Juliet. “Oh, dear,” she exclaimed. “I’m afraid that’s a subject I don’t discuss. The way I was raised, you know. My mother believed talking about one’s talent, especially to those outside your family, diminished it.” She smiled. “Probably just an old mountain superstition, but…” She let her voice fade as her eyes darted to mine.
I dropped my gaze and stared at a spot by my foot. Boy, Abby was good. I’d never heard of that “old mountain” superstition.
Juliet blushed. “I understand. Maybe after you get to know us better.”
Abby smiled vaguely.
A slight figure appeared from the hallway. I froze while violet eyes stared into mine. The same violet eyes that had haunted my dream.
“Tink, come over here, darling, and meet Ophelia’s grandmother,” Juliet said, holding out her arm to the girl.
Tink walked slowly over and took her place at Juliet’s side. As Juliet made the introductions, Tink slowly raised her head to face Abby. Their eyes locked, and for a moment wordless communication passed between them.
An uncomfortable silence seemed to fill the space separating Tink and Abby, Finally, Abby, with her eyes never leaving Tink’s face, cocked her head and arched an eyebrow. The moment was gone.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Juliet said to Abby and me. “Tink, let me get your medication.” She crossed to the kitchen and brought back a pill bottle and a glass of water. Shaking out a couple of pills, she gave them to Tink along with the water.
I watched while the girl popped the pills
in her mouth and followed them with a long drink of water. With an innocent smile, she handed the glass back to Juliet.
A frown crossed Juliet’s face. “Tink, where’s your necklace?”
Tink’s closed hand moved swiftly to her chest. “I forgot to put it on.”
“Tink,” she said reproachfully.
“I’m sorry. I’ll go put it on.” She looked up at Juliet. “After I do, may I go down to the lake?”
Juliet looked at her watch. “Yes, but only for an hour. Then you have to do your chores.”
“Okay.” Tink stuck both hands in her pockets and grinned. She glanced over at me watching her. The grin disappeared and her eyes narrowed as if daring me to speak. She knew I knew.
The kid had palmed the pills.
Twenty-two
Tink beat a hasty retreat down the hall without saying another word.
“I apologize for Tink’s manners,” Juliet said with a frown. She pointed to the couch. “Let’s sit down. May I get you anything?”
“No,” Abby said, taking a place next to me on the couch and smoothing her hands over her lap. “I’m afraid we haven’t been completely honest with you, Juliet.”
Perplexed, Juliet’s eyes traveled from Abby’s face to mine. “In what way?” she asked as she sat in a chair across from us.
“We’re at the lake investigating the disappearance of a young woman you know, Brandi Peters.”
Juliet’s eyes widened and her face went pale. “You’re private investigators?”
Abby leaned forward. “Oh my no,” she said in a soft voice. “We’re only here to help a friend. Maybe you remember him? Rick Delaney?”
Juliet’s hands plucked at the hem of her tunic. “The reporter? Yes, I remember him.” Her eyes moved to a spot over our shoulders. “I told the sheriff everything I know. I don’t know what more I can tell you.”
Oh, yes you do, I thought. I turned to Abby and watched while her eyelids drooped and she placed two fingers on her forehead. In a second they flew open and she fixed her stare on Juliet.
Dismay played across Juliet’s face while she witnessed Abby’s performance. She exhaled a deep breath. “All right. I wasn’t completely honest with the sheriff. But I had my reasons.”