Y'all Witches

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Y'all Witches Page 8

by Amy Boyles


  He winked at me. “You’ve got to be the right kind of friend.”

  “Good thing I’ve got you.”

  We reached Alistair’s stateroom. Roman grabbed me by the shoulders. “You’ve got two minutes.”

  I frowned. “That’s it?”

  He shook his head. “That’s how much time Downey told me I had.”

  My jaw fell. “You told him what we were doing?”

  Roman shrugged. “Had to. It was the only way to get this.” He pulled a key card from his pocket. “It’s the only method in, and it expires after two minutes. You’ve got to use it to get in and to get out.”

  I gulped. “Or?”

  “You’ll be locked inside. That’s what Downey said. If you’re found by Alistair, I have a very serious feeling that he won’t be too kind about it.”

  “What am I going to find in two minutes?”

  “Check the backs of his dresser drawers. Check the closet. Alistair practically lives on this ship. He makes this trip all the time. They keep a room for him. My guess is it’s going to be well lived in. This is all you, Dylan. I’ll be out here waiting for you.”

  He kissed my lips. Heat flared over my cheeks.

  “Good luck. You’ve got two minutes.”

  Roman clipped the card over the knob. The lock snicked, and he pushed the door open, being sure to look both ways beforehand.

  I crept inside and flicked on a light. The stateroom was huge. A big, beautiful four-poster bed lay next to a line of windows where you could look out over the water. A dresser sat next to the bed. I scrambled to it, digging through as quickly as I could without disturbing too much.

  I found nothing except clothes.

  I’d more than likely lost a full minute on that.

  A trunk sat squarely at the foot of the bed. I tugged on the lid, but it wouldn’t budge. No way Alistair kept the key close by. It probably stayed on him. I glanced furiously around the room, my heart racing, my pulse thundering.

  I spotted the eye atop a vanity.

  I nabbed it and looked through it. The thick trunk melted away, revealing an inside that held more clothes and other personal items.

  What was I even looking for? It was a mad grab and dash, but there was nothing to grab and dash with.

  At least, not since I didn’t know what the heck I was looking for.

  I tugged open one last drawer and a stack of papers an inch thick scattered toward the back. I picked through them and quickly realized I was looking at certificates.

  Death certificates.

  The names were all woman—Beth Krause, Goldie Krause, Hannah Krause, Francis Krause, Janette Krause.

  I gasped as I realized exactly what I was looking at.

  The doorknob turned. I shoved the papers in my back and strolled forward, expecting the see Roman waiting for me.

  But as the door swung open on squeaky hinges, the face that popped into view wasn’t Roman’s at all—it was Alistair’s.

  His jaw dropped when he saw me. “What are you doing in here?”

  My hands flew to my cheeks. “Oh my gosh, this isn’t my room? I swear, housekeeping told me they were upgrading my room and they let me in here.”

  Alistair’s eyes narrowed to slits. They relaxed as quickly, the thin line of his mouth melting into a smile. “No, they gave you incorrect instructions.”

  I slipped past him. “Well, that’s horrible. Listen, I’ll see you at the wedding. I’m guessing Grandma is getting ready.”

  I dodged to his right and grabbed the door, yanking it open. I saw Alistair move to the drawer I’d nabbed the certificates from as I slipped into the hall and he vanished from view.

  I found Roman a couple of cabins down. A look of relief crossed his face.

  I grabbed his arm and scampered away. “What happened?” I hissed.

  Roman leaned into my ear. “He came up too fast. I wasn’t expecting him. There was no time to warn you. I even tried to stall him, get him to walk down to the deck with me, but he wouldn’t do it. He insisted on going into his room.”

  I swiped the back of my arm over my forehead, erasing a line of sweat. “I gave him some story that housekeeping had relocated our room, but that they’d obviously directed me to the wrong cabin.”

  “Quick thinking.”

  “I hope it was quick enough,” I said.

  We walked outside onto a crowded deck. “Let’s stop for a second. Get some air.”

  Roman smoothed a tendril of hair from my face. “Did you find anything?”

  I nodded. “I did. These.”

  I handed over the certificates. Roman took his time studying them while I kept watch, making sure Alistair hadn’t followed us.

  After a minute Roman exhaled a deep breath. “This looks bad.”

  I nodded. “So you’re thinking what I’m thinking?”

  He clenched his jaw. “If you’re thinking that Alistair has a habit of marrying women that wind up dead, then you’re right.”

  I shook my head. “And if you think Alistair might be a murderer, then we’re definitely on the same wavelength.”

  TWELVE

  “Grandma, you can’t marry Alistair,” I said.

  I found her in her room, getting ready. “Where are Maria and Lillian?” she said.

  I glanced guiltily to the floor. “Um. Well, I don’t know.”

  Grandma pointed a finger at me. “You know very well where they are.”

  I sighed. “You’re right, I do. Look, I ran into the captain, who said he’d keep them safe. He wanted to know where they were, so I may or may not have made that information available to him.”

  “So you told him.”

  “Right.”

  Grandma laid her collection of starfish in the sink. “Dylan, you made a promise to that woman to keep her safe. To help her.”

  Anger flared in my chest. “That’s what I was doing. I was keeping her safe. She couldn’t stay here. Heck, you shouldn’t be here, either. They want to ask her about a murder, Grandma. A murder.”

  Grandma washed the starfish off, glancing over her shoulder as she spoke. “And do you think she was guilty of that murder?”

  “No, of course not. I mean, I don’t think so.”

  She shot me a dark look. “Which is it?”

  I raked my fingers through my hair. “Okay, we found the murder weapon on her. If she’d killed Griselda, she would’ve at least washed the crystal ball, right? Which she didn’t, so that made no sense. So no, I don’t believe Maria is the guilty party. But I also know that you’re a stowaway, and we can’t have one stowaway, one women wanted for questioning plus her daughter hiding out in one cabin. Y’all would’ve been found and thrown in the pokey together.”

  “Dylan,” she warned, “I don’t like your use of the word ‘pokey.’”

  I laughed. A really crazy, frantic sound. Could this situation get any more bizarre?

  Wait. Don’t answer that. We all know the answer is yes, it could always get about a thousand times more weird and strange if my family was involved.

  “Grandma, I did it for her own safety. It was the right thing to do, same as hiding her in the first place. But what I was saying was, you can’t marry Alistair.”

  She dried her hands on a towel. “And why ever not?”

  I took a deep breath and held it. “Because he murders his wives.”

  Grandma cackled. “Dylan, I think one of us drank a little too much of the water on Celestial Island. What are you talking about?”

  I pulled the death certificates from my purse and thrust them under her nose. “This is what I’m talking about. He’s had five wives, Grandma. Five wives. All dead. And you’re about to be number six. I think it’s suspicious.”

  Grandma batted the papers away. “I know all about Alistair’s wives. Two of them died of cancer, one of them passed from a boating accident, one died in childbirth and the last one died from a heart condition. All normal deaths, Dylan. None of them were mysterious. Really. You’ve got too much
imagination on you. This reminds me of a time when I had to visit a small town outside Silver Springs. A small clan of sprites was intent on taking it over.”

  “Grandma,” I said, steering the conversation back, “don’t you think it’s strange he’s had so many?”

  “Not really. He’s old, Dylan. Some people live their lives; they don’t wait for their lives to live for them.”

  I cocked my head. “Huh?”

  Grandma folded her hands and sat down beside me. “Dylan, I am old. I’ve told you this before. What does it matter to you if the last few years of my life are spent with someone I love? Have fun with? That’s what Alistair is to me. Someone whom I enjoy. Don’t you want me to be happy and enjoy the little time I have left?”

  My heart lurched. “Of course I do, but I don’t want you to get hurt. I just think it’s too fast, and he’s suspicious. I don’t like any of it. In fact, I found out that he and Griselda were partners in the treasure-hunting business and he was still hunting treasure up until a short time ago. Grandma, he told us that he hadn’t hunted in years. Years. Alistair lied. Why?”

  Grandma pressed her lips together and rose. “What I see is a spoiled, childish granddaughter who doesn’t want me to be happy.”

  “That’s not it, I promise. I want you to be happy, but I just don’t trust this man and I don’t want you to marry him.”

  Grandma tightened her fists. “If you’re so against him, then you’re officially uninvited to the wedding.”

  My jaw dropped. “What?”

  She nodded. “If you are so against my happiness, then I don’t want you there. You can stay in your cabin and sulk. I’d rather you do that than ruin my night.”

  I crossed to her, reached out my hands. Hands she did not take. “Grandma, you can’t mean that.”

  She nodded stiffly. “I do mean that. Either you accept Alistair or you don’t go. It’s your decision to make.”

  What was I supposed to do? I loved my grandmother with all my heart—craziness and all. But this was an ultimatum I wasn’t expecting. Fact is, something smelled rotten. It was like on a hot summer day when you walked by a vat of trash and you nearly choked from the nastiness of it.

  That’s what this entire situation was like.

  I didn’t want to be cut off from her, but I didn’t like Alistair. I didn’t trust him, and if I died doing it, I was going to prove to Grandma that Alistair was no good.

  But how?

  Which led me to my decision. It wasn’t easy, and it wasn’t one I was comfortable with, but I didn’t see any way around it.

  I only hoped I was doing the right thing when I said, “You’re right. I’m being ridiculous. I know Alistair will make you happy.”

  Grandma smiled. “Now. Let’s get ready for the wedding.”

  THIRTEEN

  “We can’t let her marry him,” I said to Roman.

  He threaded his fingers through my hair. “I’m having some contacts back at witch police run a background check on Krause, but unless they come up with something in the next hour, the ceremony’s going to happen whether we like it or not.”

  I bit into my fingers, trying to chew off as much nail as possible to comfort me.

  “Didn’t you just get your nails done?” Roman said.

  I hid my hand behind my back. “I need this right now. Please don’t take it away from me.”

  He chuckled. “I understand. Come on, let’s get ready for the wedding. Talking’s not going to do any good right now.”

  I perked up. “How about whining? Will that help?”

  He threw me a sympathic look. “I seriously doubt it.”

  “Okay, let’s get ready for this.”

  I shucked off my clothes, took a shower and pulled on a pink wrap dress I’d brought. I threw a pashmina over my shoulders and swept up my hair into a knot. I toed on a pair of sandals.

  “I’ll meet you there,” I said.

  Roman scowled. “Where are you disappearing to?”

  “I want to get her some flowers. A nice bouquet for the ceremony.”

  Roman brushed his lips against my cheek. “See you there.”

  I found the florist and paid for a small bouquet of roses mixes with stargazer lilies. It smelled like a handful of heaven.

  I padded back down the deck until I reached the door I was looking for. My hand trembled as I knocked. What I was doing was horrible, and I was taking a huge chance. But it was my only option. If I wanted to stop this wedding, it’s what I had to do.

  In the pit of my gut I knew my plan would work, but my head was screaming don’t do it!

  I only hoped Grandma would forgive me.

  The door opened a sliver. “Yes?”

  I took a deep breath and said, “There’s something I need to tell you.”

  Stars constellated the sky when I arrived above deck. A few shot past. My heart jumped in my mouth at the sight.

  I found Roman and coiled my hand around his bicep. “This would be the most romantic evening ever if it wasn’t soured by a wedding I didn’t want.”

  Roman leaned over. “It’s not your wedding.”

  “Don’t remind me.”

  Captain Byrd stood on a small podium at the head of the deck. People milled about. A blanket of white caught the corner of my eye.

  I turned to see Grandma clad in white from head to foot. She glowed as if from within and looked startlingly young. Most of the lines on her face had been erased, leaving her skin smooth and soft.

  She winked at me as she approached and said, “Thanks for the starfish.”

  Oh, well if that’s what it could do for an eighty-year-old, I wondered if it would make me look like I was sixteen again.

  Hmm. Food for thought.

  Of course, that would mean my husband was married to someone who looked underage. Probably not a good thing.

  Anyway, I handed Grandma the flowers, took her hand and kissed the thin skin of her cheek. “I love you.”

  Her eyes filled wet, and she smiled back. “I love you, Dylan.” Her gaze flickered around until she saw Alistair, dressed in a three-piece suit, standing beside the captain.

  “There he is, my betrothed.”

  Grandma glided over to Alistair. Roman and I followed until we were directly behind them. My nerves jumbled and knotted. A fissure of anxiety ran from my head to my feet. What I was doing was crazy. I was exchanging one devil for another. I only hoped the devil I picked was better than the one I was certain would be horrible, terrible.

  “Stowaways,” I heard in the distance. “Any stowaways here?”

  Sniff’s voice was quiet, and Captain Byrd apparently didn’t hear as he started in on the service. I know Grandma didn’t hear, and why would Alistair even care?

  I doubt he knew about my grandmother’s status on the ship.

  Roman glanced over my shoulder. “We’ve got trouble.”

  “Or a savior,” I said.

  His gaze darkened. “What did you do?”

  I shrugged. “Only the same thing my grandmother would do in the exact situation.”

  “Stowaways,” came the voice, only a bit louder this time.

  Grandma glanced over. Her face got a wild, distracted look on it. She leaned over and said something to Captain Byrd. I imagine she was telling him to hurry it the heck up.

  Sniff danced over to us. He stood off to the side. His dark hair hung in strings down his face, and his nose lifted in the air, his nostrils seeming as long as my forearm.

  “I smell a stowaway,” he proclaimed. “I smell one here.”

  Alistair broke from my grandmother’s arm and said, “See here, young man. We’re trying to have a nice, pleasant ceremony. You need to go away. Find your stowaways somewhere else, because there aren’t any here.”

  Sniff pranced over to my grandmother, who cowered behind Alistair. “There is a stowaway here. This woman is a stowaway. I’ve been chasing her for days, but now I’ve found her.”

  Alistair shot my mother a confused look.
She nodded feebly. “It’s true. I did stow away, Alistair. I’m so sorry.”

  My eyes filled with tears as Alistair’s face fell and my grandmother’s eyes streamed a river.

  “I’m sorry I lied, Alistair.”

  “I’m sure you had your reasons, Hazel. We all have our reasons. Don’t worry; I’ll get you out of this.”

  Sniff took a step forward and lifted his net. The air caught the netting, making the thing seem alive. I cringed as it fell down over my grandmother’s shoulders. She seemed to shrink as Sniff poked the air.

  “You, my dear, are under arrest for stowing away on this ship. The penalty, as you know, is walking the plank!”

  FOURTEEN

  Grandma was being held in the brig. Yes, they had one. Roman, Alistair and I stood outside. Alistair nervously paced as the ship’s captain and Sniff discussed Grandma’s case.

  “I have a lot of pull here,” Alistair said. “I should be able to get her out. Get them to release Hazel.”

  The distraught tone in his voice caught me by surprise. Perhaps he loved my grandmother. Perhaps I had been wrong in going to Simon Sniff’s room and telling him where he could find the stowaway he’d been looking for.

  But then all those death certificates...

  What was I supposed to do about that?

  Roman’s phone buzzed from his back pocket. He pulled it out and glanced at the screen. “I’ll be right back.”

  He left Alistair and me alone. I twisted my fingers.

  “I hope they tell us something soon,” I said.

  “I know you did this,” he said quietly.

  “What?” I said, trying to sound innocent as a lamb or a rose or a parakeet.

  “I know you called Sniff to find her.” Alistair turned to me. His eyes were full of sadness, but there was something else—a resigned look to him? He appeared worn-out, done and spent.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said.

  “You found the certificates. I know you did.” Alistair rubbed a hand down his face. “I know how all of this must seem to you. I’ve had five wives, and I’m taking my sixth very quickly. Too quickly for her granddaughter’s approval.”

 

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