American Witch

by Thea Harrison

  Maria and Henry delivered the car just before noon. He alerted Molly, and fifteen minutes later she confirmed that she had driven the car back to the house.

  A little after two in the afternoon, he received a memo stating the police had issued an APB for Molly, listing her as a person of interest in a murder investigation. Photos of her had been distributed to all the local television statements. She would be featured on the evening news.

  So they had connected Nina Rodriguez to Molly and Austin Sullivan. That had only been a matter of time. He called the lead detective on the case for an update. Afterward, he texted Molly again. What size clothes do you wear?

  This time it took her a few minutes to respond. Size eight, long in pants, 34B bra. I have about $60 in cash, and I still have money on some prepaid Visa cards. I thought I’d go to the country store to see if I could pick up some new clothes. Where is it?

  Adrenaline kicked in. Goddamn it, she had keys and a vehicle at her disposal now. She could do anything. Go anywhere. She didn’t have to listen to what he said.

  Rapidly, he sent back in all caps, DO NOT GO.

  Silence stretched out long enough that he charged to his door to slam it shut, then he dialed her number. When she picked up, she sounded wary. “Hello?”

  “You know it’s me,” he snapped.

  “Of course,” she replied irritably. “But God forbid we actually talk on the phone anymore. You made it quite clear before that you’re very busy.”

  “I am busy,” he growled. Striding to his window, he yanked at the confining tie at his neck. “But you didn’t respond to my latest text.”

  “No, I didn’t.” Her voice turned cool. “I was still thinking about it. I don’t like somebody else dictating my actions. It was different when I was too hurt to go anywhere. The bruises on my face alone would have drawn attention, but I’m past that point now.”

  “Or when you didn’t have a car and couldn’t?” he bit out.

  “For Christ’s sake, it’s just the country store. It isn’t a bank branch with security cameras. What’s wrong, they don’t have clothes?”

  “They have TVs,” he hissed. “And internet, and they can stream news channels. The police have just put out an APB on you. Your photo is going to be featured in the evening news tonight.”

  He heard the breath go out of her. She said in a choked voice, “Well, that complicates things.”

  “Yes, it does,” he snapped. Then he made an effort to corral his wayward temper and said more calmly, “Look, you’re not a suspect. The current theory is that Austin killed your lawyer and then died trying to set the fire in her office.”

  “That’s ridiculous. Why would he do that? It wasn’t as if he could stop her from filing the divorce papers. She had already done that the Friday before.”

  “I know, but I just talked with the lead detective. With her office records destroyed, I don’t think they’ve discovered that yet. Even still, it looks too pat. They aren’t convinced, but they don’t have anything else to go on right now. They want to see if you can shed any light on what might have happened, but the concern is that Austin did something to you and you’re dead too. You should be fine when you drive far enough away from the area, but you’re not there yet. So wash what you’ve got and stay fucking put. I’ll bring you a few outfits when I deliver the documents tomorrow.”

  “Fine. Do you have to get back to work?” she asked abruptly.

  He craned his neck from side to side to ease the tension in his shoulders and made himself relax. “No, I can take a few minutes,” he said. At least he no longer sounded like a crazy man. “What do you need? Are you all right?”

  “I’m frustrated and going stir-crazy, and I feel a little stupid about insisting I go to the store, but I’m fine.”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. “You didn’t know about the APB,” he replied. “It just went out, so I know what you said sounded reasonable from your point of view. But I don’t issue arbitrary orders, Molly. You need to trust me when I tell you to do something. Or not to do something, as it were.”

  “Okay.” She sounded calmer too. “You’re right.”

  He wanted to put his arms around her. Goddamn it. “I’m sorry for biting your head off. I’m on a rampage today. It’s not you.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  Aside from the fact that I’m losing my fucking mind over you?

  He clenched his teeth and didn’t say it. “I didn’t sleep. Too many things running through my head.”

  “Ah. Me too.”

  Curiosity stirred. “Was there something you needed to say to me?”

  “Yes,” she said carefully. “But we don’t have to talk about it right now.” Her measured tone said it wasn’t a lightweight subject.

  “What is it?” Someone knocked on his door. “Hang on.” Holding the phone away, he raised his voice. “I’m on the phone! I’ll be with you in a few minutes.” Then he turned his attention back to Molly. “What were you saying?”

  “Nothing,” she told him.

  He frowned. “That’s not true. If it was nothing, you wouldn’t have brought it up.”

  “Bad impulse,” she replied crisply. “What I have to say isn’t urgent, and you’ve got people waiting for you. Go back to work.”

  “Fine, see you tomorrow.” He hesitated, reluctant to break the connection. “Don’t hesitate to call if something does turn urgent.”

  “It won’t, Josiah,” she said gently. “Everything is fine here. Bye for now.”

  He frowned as she disconnected. She was the polar opposite of a needy woman. He ought to be glad. Relieved, even. Instead, he felt like she kept shutting a door in his face—a door he should never walk through but also one he couldn’t seem to keep away from.

  The knock sounded on his door again, and reluctantly he pocketed his phone and got back to work.

  Around a quarter after three, he received Sherman’s email about lunch on Friday and responded to confirm. He had a feeling some of Sherman’s questions would get answered by the evening news. Still, the luncheon meeting should prove interesting. Sometimes people gave away things by what they didn’t say as much as what they did.

  That evening he stayed even later than usual and left the office after seven.

  When he approached his car, he scanned it. He’d been taking precautions for so long, they had become automatic.

  This time he found something.

  He stopped. In case his actions were caught on CCTV, he bent to tie his shoe, and under the guise of that he checked again. A glimmer of magic hovered around the license plate. It was too small and subtle to be a bomb, but he clicked his key fob from where he crouched, just in case. Nothing blew up.

  Only then did he approach. Opening the trunk, he set his briefcase inside while he examined the glimmer of magic up close. It was a tracker.

  Somebody had decided to keep an eye on his movements.

  On the way home, he stopped at an ATM. Then he went to a big-box department store to buy a variety of different things—household cleaners, groceries, paper products, travel-sized toiletries, and a soft-sided carry-on bag.

  He also strode through the women’s clothing section to grab a couple of outfits in Molly’s size along with some underwear, a sleep set with a short nightie, a pretty thigh-length robe and matching slippers, and a jean jacket and a baseball cap. He selected a checkout lane far away from any others, and as the cashier rang up his purchases, he checked his surroundings carefully. Nobody paid any attention.

  As the cashier rang up the women’s clothes, he smiled. “Why don’t you go ahead and tuck those into the carry-on? I’m surprising my wife with a getaway weekend.”

  “Lucky wife.” She returned his smile. “Sure thing.”

  When all his purchases had been tallied, he paid with cash and whistled as he took his cart out to the car and loaded everything into the trunk. While he did, he conducted another sharp, detailed scan but didn’t find anything new.

  Bac
k at his place, he hauled everything, including the new go-bag, into the apartment. Once he had everything inside, he scanned the rooms, first magically, and then he swept for mechanical bugs. Nothing. Only then did he shrug out of his suit jacket and pour himself a scotch.

  This changed everything. Goddamn it.

  It was almost ten when he called Molly. He listened to the phone ringing. When she answered, she sounded sleepy. She sounded so fucking sexy, he hardened in an instant.

  Huskily, he asked, “Did I wake you?”

  “No,” she sighed. He heard something rustle, perhaps the sheets. “Well, almost. I wasn’t quite asleep. What’s going on?”

  Suddenly so much rage flooded his body he wanted to punch a wall. “There’s been another development.”

  “What is it?” she said sharply. “What’s wrong?”

  “Someone put a tracker on my car.” As he spoke, he opened the blinds at the wall of windows in the living room. The view of the city was why he had picked this place. “I can’t come to you tomorrow.”

  “What about the other car you drove? The Camry?”

  “Here’s the thing, milaya.” He stopped.

  It was only in that minute that he realized he had been intending to spend the night with her on Wednesday if she would have him again. Despite all common sense, he had been counting on being with her one more time before he let her go. Giving up that precious, rare opportunity caused a mental outcry that felt like physical pain.

  “Josiah?”

  He snapped back into focus. “The tracker could be good news. It means I’ve come to somebody’s attention, and they want to see what I’m up to. But I don’t know what triggered it. Maybe it’s something about my movements. Maybe somebody noticed I drive in a way that shakes loose anybody who might be trying to tail me. Maybe they found my car where I parked it at the Y. Maybe they know about the Camry.”

  “What if you remove the tracker?”

  “I don’t want to. We need to see if we can find who put it on my car. This is an opportunity we can’t ignore. But that means coming to you is out. We’re going to have to set up a meet in town. I’ve got a go-bag for you, and I withdrew a thousand dollars from an ATM tonight. Tomorrow morning I’ll take out another thousand on my way to work.”

  “Two thousand in cash?”

  “Yes. That won’t be enough, and it’s not what we agreed on, but it will get you out of town and far enough away that your photo won’t be in the news. I’ll figure out how to get you the rest. I’ll also be getting your new ID delivered sometime tomorrow.” He paused. “We need to set up a meet where you can drive straight in, pick up the package, and then leave right away. Somewhere public and easy for us both to get to but with enough space for privacy.”

  “Grant Park,” she said.

  “Where the zoo is? I haven’t been there yet.”

  “Yes, and the Oakland Cemetery is close by. The park has over a hundred acres with plenty of places to meet, and it gets busy when the weather is nice—there are plenty of chances for anonymity. It’s also accessible from downtown.” She added, almost wistfully, “It’s quite beautiful in the summer.”

  He thought it over. He could leave his car somewhere, catch several Ubers quickly in a row, meet her to deliver the package, and make his way back to his car. “That will work. Where do you want to meet inside the park?”

  “I think one of the pavilions will do.” She described the area while he made a mental note.

  He told her, “I’ll text you when to meet me. Do something to pin up your hair or pull it back. The photo they used on the news tonight was with your hair down. I bought you a baseball cap. It’s in your go-bag.”

  She had looked beautiful in the photo as she laughed at someone off camera, but she looked beautiful in all the photos he had taken. He didn’t think she could take a bad shot.

  He should delete them from his phone, but he hadn’t. And he knew he wouldn’t.

  “Thank you.” The expression in her voice turned complex. “It feels like I’ve been treading water for so long, but I’m really leaving tomorrow.”

  “Yes, you really are leaving,” he replied quietly. “I’ve got to go. Talk to you tomorrow.”

  She hesitated, but then all she said was, “Good night. And thank you again for everything.”

  “You’re welcome, Molly.”

  Before she could say anything else, he disconnected.

  She had quickly exploded into such a large presence in his life. He needed her gone to keep his head in a dangerous game. More than that, he wanted her gone, for her sake. But in privacy, he was forced to admit she would leave a big hole behind when she went.

  He stood for some time looking out at the vibrant city lights and drinking. Feeling a host of unwelcome things… regret, frustration, loss… but feeling none of the elation he would have six months ago at reaching another milestone on the way to his ultimate goal.

  When he finished his scotch, he went to email news of the latest development to his coven.

  Chapter Fourteen

  She was leaving.

  Leaving. It repeated in her mind like the rhythm of train wheels turning.

  If she got safely away, it would be thanks to the man who had carefully crafted an identity over forty years, all so that he could patiently enact revenge for an outrage that had happened before her parents had been born. Perhaps before her grandparents.

  He had saved her life more than once. He had climaxed inside her, and she might never know his real name.

  She was leaving a place where she had lived all her adult life, leaving her only surviving family, her acquaintances, friends. Her favorite restaurants and bookstores. Her body still ached in areas from Austin’s attack, and she’d hardly had a chance to process the news of his death. She certainly hadn’t had any chance to process Nina’s. She needed to buy a pregnancy test kit, and unknown forces of malign intent wished her harm.

  But Josiah dominated every other consideration. She was eager to drive far away from everything else, except him. Thinking about leaving him behind caused her to… ache.

  Leave it to her to get inappropriately attached to a man who had never asked for it. Who had, in fact, warned her to do the exact opposite.

  She still tired too easily and couldn’t wrap her brain around everything. Hopefully she would survive long enough to process it all. Closing her eyes, she slept.

  The large old Victorian house settled around her like a well-worn cloak. She walked through it, soaking in the peace and the airy quiet. She badly needed some peace and quiet.

  This time the woman sat in a square of sunshine, looking out a large picture window. As Molly glanced outside, she noticed a white stone labyrinth in the middle of a beautiful garden.

  “There’s been some drama, but I’m finally leaving tomorrow,” Molly said.

  “Are you?” The woman turned to smile. “I’m glad. That means we’ll get a little time together.”

  Why only a little bit of time? She frowned. “How do I find you?”

  “The spell is still active, so watch for signs. You’ll see them.” The woman sighed. “I’m too tired to hold this dream together for long. Good journey to you.”

  “Wait—what kind of signs?” Even as she asked, the dream faded, and she slipped back into darkness.

  She woke just after five. After trying unsuccessfully to get back to sleep, she stripped the sheets off the bed to wash them along with her single outfit. There wasn’t anything she could do about needing one of his T-shirts, so she shrugged and picked her favorite, a black one so old the aged cotton felt soft as silk against her skin.

  Then she showered and laundered the towels and washcloths, made the bed, cleaned the bathroom, washed the coffee maker, and tucked the rest of the uneaten chocolate bars in her purse, until finally there wasn’t anything left to do but read upstairs in one of the armchairs, bathed in the quiet morning light.

  Just after lunch, her phone chimed, making her pulse leap.

>   Meet me at one thirty sharp. He added directions for how to get from the safe house back to the city.

  I’ll be there.

  If I don’t show by one forty, leave but don’t panic. It means something came up. I’ll contact you with another meet time.

  God, she hoped that didn’t happen. She was wound up enough as it was. I won’t linger.

  She had remained on task and hadn’t fretted, but he still texted, It should be fine, Molly.

  Understood. Everything will work out. See you soon.

  After time had slowed down excruciatingly for the entire morning, suddenly it sped up. She gathered up her purse and looked around. She wouldn’t miss the outdated, empty house, but she had grown sensitive enough to Josiah’s magic to recognize his signature in the protection spells in the basement. Those she would miss, perhaps badly.

  While the afternoon was sunny, there was a sharpness to the air that made her glad to run the heat as she drove. At 1:29, she pulled into the parking lot beside the pavilion and waited with the engine running while her gaze roamed restlessly over the scene.

  The next few minutes trickled by. Her phone remained silent.

  Then a tall, powerful man strode into sight along one of the park paths. He wore a dark suit and sunglasses and carried a bag. Josiah had made it.

  She turned off the engine, climbed out and walked toward him. He saw her and picked up his pace. After a few steps, she started running.

  As she drew close, he reached into the bag and pulled out the baseball cap. It was plain blue with no identifying markers.

  He slipped it on her head as he looked around. “Keep your sunglasses on.”

  “You’re such a mother hen.”

  When he gave her an astonished look over the rim of his dark glasses, she burst out laughing and put her arms around him.

  Dropping the bag, he clenched her against his hard length. The ferocity jettisoned her into an emotion so powerful she had to blink back tears.

  Pulling back, she said, “You’ve done so much for me, I really don’t know how to—”

  “Shut the fuck up.” He kissed her.

  They both went up in flames. She wound her fingers through his hair, kissing him back with everything she had. When he finally lifted his head again, they were both shaking.