A Witch’s Touch: A Seven Kingdoms Tale 3

by Smith, S. E.

  With eight years of service, he was almost halfway to his goal. Everything changed the night he received Ruth’s urgent phone call. Their dad, a career Air Force Colonel, had collapsed. Family needed family and when their dad was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer, he had returned home. What neither he nor Ruth expected was that they would be burying both their parents within two weeks of each other, their father from the cancer and their mother from a stroke, less than seven months after Mike had come home.

  Mike knew Ruth felt guilty about his leaving the service. The thing was, no one knew exactly how long their dad would last, or that their mom would die so soon afterward. Ultimately, the decision had been his to make, and he realized afterward that it had been the right one. He had been trying to follow in their dad’s footsteps, but in reality, he had grown tired of the confines of the military and was ready for a change.

  The position at the Yachats Police Department was obtained through a friend at his mom’s funeral. Two weeks later, he and Ruth had finished packing up all of their parents' belongings and placed the house in Sacramento, California on the market. Afterward, he had headed north. He’d considered Yachats as a place where he could stop and think, a layover for where he was going to go next. With the disappearance of Carly Tate and then Jenny Ackerly, he knew he wouldn’t be going anywhere else—at least not until he found out what had happened to them. He never left anything undone, and he had promised Jenny he would bring Carly home. Now, he felt like he owed it to Jenny.

  Rolling over, he wrapped his arm around the golden fur-ball that was now snoring. A chuckle escaped him. He would have preferred a different warm body in bed next to him on his birthday but, as a second choice, it was better than a cold pillow, he decided.

  Scratching the pup’s belly, he released a huge yawn and felt the last of the tension leave his body. “Goodnight, Charlie Brown,” he whispered in the dark as his mind finally shut down enough for sleep to overtake him.

  Chapter Three

  Four months later:

  “Not now, Charlie,” Mike muttered.

  Taking the ball Charlie had dropped on the case documents he was reviewing, Mike tossed it across the living room. He ignored Charlie’s happy bark and the sound of the dog’s nails against his newly installed tile flooring. Leaning forward, he turned over the paper he had just re-read for the hundredth time and began reading the next page.

  “Come on, talk to me. Where are you? What happened to you?” he said in frustration.

  He turned another page. He knew it was stupid to talk to a couple of pictures, but he didn’t care. It wasn’t as if anyone could hear him except for Charlie. He leaned back on the couch and ran a tired hand through his hair. He’d been staring at the damn file for over two hours.

  He wanted to blame it on Agent Tanaka’s call late yesterday afternoon. He’d put the case file away for the last couple of months. Now, it was back out of the file drawer and nagging at him again. Tanaka said he was just checking in to see if Mike had discovered anything new.

  “No, I have not discovered any evidence of aliens, mermaids, Bigfoot, or Santa Claus’ summer residence,” he had grunted into the phone.

  Tanaka had not been amused. The sound of silence followed by a stiff thank you had pulled another groan from Mike. Yesterday had been a very trying day. Two teens had taken one of the yachts for a joy ride, there had been a fender-bender at the grocery store, and Charlie had watered Patty’s fake fern tree in the front office again.

  He’d spent almost an hour washing it off and hoped it would dry before Monday so that Patty wouldn’t notice anything amiss with her prized, five-dollar yard sale decoration. Life was easier when Patty was in the office, at least she could help keep Charlie entertained and out of mischief for more than five minutes. Deciding he’d endured enough for the day, he had rounded up Charlie and headed home.

  “Damn it, Charlie! I said…,” Mike started to say before he snapped his mouth closed.

  Charlie had trotted back over and dropped the purple squeaky ball on the papers scattered across the coffee table. The pup whined and placed his chin on Mike’s knee. He chuckled at the pitiful look. Reaching over, he scratched Charlie behind the ear, earning a tail wag.

  “I guess you are as tired of being cooped up as I am. How about we combine work and play, boy? We could go for a run and do a little field duty,” Mike suggested.

  Mike fell back against the back of the couch when Charlie enthusiastically agreed. Two large paws and a long tongue told Mike he’d better hurry if he was going to save the papers from being scattered across the living room floor after Charlie’s hairy tail cleared off most of them on the first swipe.

  Pushing Charlie off of his lap, Mike stood up and began collecting all the papers. He picked up one of the fallen pictures from under the coffee table. Standing straight, he studied the photograph. Carly Tate and Jenny Ackerly’s smiling faces stared back at him. A strange sense of calm swept through him. It was almost as if the two women were telling him that everything would be alright.

  He shook his head at the crazy thought that the women were trying to talk to him. He was losing his freaking mind. Gazing down at Charlie, Mike decided he needed some fresh air as much as the dog did! He bent over and stacked the rest of the papers and photos together and closed the file.

  He looked at the calendar hanging on the wall. Today marked the one year anniversary of Jenny’s disappearance. Shaking his head, he slid the file into a large envelope. He could always take it with him and go through it at the scene where both women’s cars were found. Maybe some fresh air, a little exercise, and being on the scene would make something click. It wasn’t as if he had anything more pressing to do. He had the entire weekend off.

  Hell, if nothing else, he thought, watching Charlie hopping up and down off the couch in excitement, I can try to wear Charlie out a little so I can get some work done.

  Grabbing his jacket and Charlie’s leash off the coat rack near the front door, he pulled the door open. Charlie pushed by him, making short, happy growling sounds. Mike had to dodge the lethal tail before he could close and lock the door behind him.

  “Let’s go, boy,” Mike said, grinning when Charlie jumped down the front steps and ran around the truck once before stopping at the driver’s door.

  Mike opened the door and waited for Charlie to scramble in before he slid in after the dog. Inserting the key into the ignition, he pressed the button to roll down the passenger window halfway. Charlie dropped his squeaky ball on the seat and stuck his head out the window.

  “Watch the tail, boy,” Mike grumbled, pushing on Charlie’s hindquarters to make him sit. “That’s much better.”

  Backing out of the driveway, Mike’s switched his thoughts back to the information he had been reading over again before they left. He ran through what he knew about the two missing women again. They had been best friends since kindergarten and became roommates after graduating from high school. Carly worked at the local bank while Jenny was a teacher at the elementary school. The biggest coincidence between the two was when and where they disappeared, two years apart to the day.

  Mike couldn’t help but wonder if someone had been stalking the two women. He’d investigated to see if there were any drifters or residents who might have fit the pattern or appeared suspicious, but he’d come up with a blank. Hell, even Ross came up clean, which had surprised Mike.

  Turning into the long entrance to Yachats State Park, Mike slowed down at the gate. He shifted the truck into park and pulled his wallet out of his front pocket.

  “Hey, Mike. How are you doing today?” the ranger said after opening the window.

  “Good, how about you, Marty?” Mike replied.

  “Not bad, you here on personal or business?” Marty asked, looking at Mike’s Annual State Park Pass.

  “Both,” Mike replied, taking his card back when Marty held it out to him.

  “If you need anything, just call,” Marty said.

  Mike n
odded, then paused. “You’ve been here a while haven’t you, Marty?” he asked, gazing back at the other man.

  “About six or seven years now,” Marty replied, leaning on the windowsill.

  “Have you ever seen or heard anything unusual?” Mike asked.

  Marty shrugged. “There’s always something unusual when you’re in the woods. Can you be more specific?” he asked with a confused frown.

  “I don’t know, strange, unexplainable,” Mike said.

  “Like Bigfoot strange?” Marty asked.

  Mike shook his head. “What is it with people and Bigfoot?” he scoffed with a deep sigh. “Okay, yes, like Bigfoot.”

  Marty looked thoughtful for a moment before he shook his head. “Naw. I’ve seen strange dancing lights. I figured it might be some type of methane gas balls. I’ve seen those before, down in the swamps, when I worked at the State Park in Louisiana. I’ve heard some strange noises, felt a minor quake or two, and the lights, but nothing like Bigfoot. I’d love to get a picture of him….”

  Mike realized that this conversation was going south along with the floating gas balls when Marty started relating all the weird stuff he’d seen. Fortunately, Charlie decided they had stopped long enough and began to whine. Mike ran his hand down the dog’s head when Charlie turned and gave him a lick.

  “Thanks, Marty. I’ll see you later,” Mike said, cutting the other man off.

  “See you, Mike. Bye Charlie,” Marty said with a wave.

  Charlie barked in Mike’s ear. Mike shifted the truck into gear and eased off the brake. Pulling forward, he accelerated once they had cleared the speed bump. Charlie, happy that they were moving again, resumed his position as co-pilot. Mike chuckled at the pure enjoyment Charlie was getting from hanging his head out the window, his ears flapping in the breeze, and his nose going a million miles an hour.

  “Let me know if you smell Bigfoot, okay, boy?” Mike instructed.

  * * *

  Ten minutes later, Mike was parked in the parking lot where Carly and Jenny’s cars had been recovered. Through the windshield of his truck, he gazed at the forest ahead of him. The clouds were rolling in from the ocean, making it another dreary, overcast day, which was typical of the weather for the area. The parking lot was empty, leaving Mike to summarize that other would-be visitors had looked at the weather forecast before deciding to venture out. Turning off the engine, he sat in his car for several minutes looking out at the thick line of trees in front of him.

  “Sometimes I think I need my head examined,” he muttered under his breath, even as he reached for the dark brown jacket lying underneath Charlie on the seat next to him. Mike grinned when a cold nose pushed against his hand. “I know, I know. Nature calls and there are only a million trees to mark,” he said, lifting his hand to scratch Charlie, who decided to lay down at the same time he tried to pick up his jacket. “I promised you a run today, no matter what, so no pooping out on me now that we are here. Let’s go.”

  Mike pushed open the door and slid out of the truck. Charlie immediately stood up, his dark golden body quivering with excitement. Mike stood in front of the door, blocking the opening while he pulled on his jacket. Reaching between Charlie and the back of the seat, Mike grabbed the retractable leash. He grimaced when Charlie ran his tongue over his cheek.

  “Thanks, dude,” Mike muttered as he clipped the leash to Charlie’s collar. He rubbed his cheek against the soft fabric lining the collar of his jacket. “Let’s go, boy. I’ll let you off once we get to the beach.”

  He stepped back so that Charlie could jump down and then closed the door. Pressing the lock, he turned and headed down the trail with Charlie trotting enthusiastically by his side. He used his free hand to pull up the collar of his jacket when it began to heavily mist and a gust of wind sent a trickle of cold water down his neck. Mike shook his head when Charlie just looked up with his tongue hanging out and wagged his tail.

  “Don’t look at me,” Mike softly chuckled. “You can thank Mother Nature. She must know how much you love the water.”

  Mike tucked his left hand into the pocket of his leather jacket and focused on the path in front of him. Walking along the trail, his mind wandered as they stopped by every other tree so Charlie could sniff or leave his mark. After the fifth tree, Mike decided they’d never make it to the beach at the rate they were going.

  Mike sighed as they navigated the uneven trail. His thoughts flashed back to his conversation with Ruth a few months before. He had encouraged Ruth to never give up on finding someone. He knew his sister was gun-shy after her marriage ended. Mike hadn’t known much about Howard but, from the little he did know, he had to admit he was surprised that Ruth had seen anything in the guy. Ruth had a powerful personality. She was blunt like their dad and opinionated like their mother. When you put both of those traits together and mixed in a high IQ and a smart-ass sense of humor, it made it difficult to find someone who could keep up with her without feeling intimidated.

  Of course, she had pointed out that at least she did try to find someone. That had shut him up. Now, it was just Ruth and him… and Charlie. His gaze flickered to the dog. Charlie had stopped to smell the base of yet another huge Douglas Fir that grew along the path.

  “Okay, six times. That’s the limit,” Mike told the pup with a shake of his head. “Where in the hell you store that much pee is beyond me.” Charlie looked up at him with a happy grin after making sure the tree was properly watered. “I don’t know why I thought I could discover anything with you along except maybe how many gallons of pee a dog can hold in his bladder.”

  “Woof,” Charlie responded before pulling on the leash.

  “Okay, okay,” Mike chuckled. “We’ll head down to the beach. Maybe chasing a few sticks will make you feel better. I swear it’s official—I’ve gone nuts. Now I’m talking to the dog, and he answers me. What’s next, a woodland witch or a mermaid to tempt my heart?”

  A shiver ran down his spine when Charlie whined. Shrugging his shoulders, Mike pushed his unease away as a sudden burst of energy flooded his body. A grin curved his lips as he reached down and unhooked the leash.

  “I’ll race you,” he said, pocketing the leash and taking off down the crooked, uneven trail at an easy run. “First one on the beach has to clean the dishes tonight.”

  A husky laugh escaped him when Charlie darted ahead of him. Inhaling deeply, Mike breathed in the cold, damp air. It filled his lungs, energizing him. For the first time in over a year, he felt like his life was beginning to make sense again.

  I just hope it is more than cleaning the dishes after Charlie licks them, he thought as they broke through the opening in the trees and onto the rocky shore.

  * * *

  Ten minutes and half-a-mile later, Mike slowed to a walk. Charlie ran circles around him, a large piece of driftwood in his mouth. Mike chuckled at the dog’s antics. It felt good to be out and to run, even if it was only a short distance.

  Breathing deeply, Mike enjoyed the mixture of cold air and salt. Typical of the weather along the coast, the sun was now shining. The saying just wait five minutes and the weather will change was never more true than along the coast of the Pacific Northwest.

  Mike bent over and grabbed the stick from Charlie’s jaws. The pup immediately let it go and danced back several steps in anticipation. Pulling his arm back, he threw the piece of wood. Charlie took off after it like a bullet. A second later, the laugh on Mike’s lips turned to a muttered oath. Charlie’s startled yelp and quick retreat to cower behind Mike proved to him that he wasn’t hallucinating.

  “What the hell?” Mike said under his breath.

  In front of him, where the beach used to be had changed to a swirling whirlpool of color. Shock changed to a frown of concentration when the center of the whirlpool began to turn clear. Charlie’s deep growl of warning came less than a second after the hair on the back of Mike’s neck literally stood up from the electrical charge in the air.

  Mike’s internal wa
rning bells started clamoring, and he couldn’t help but briefly acknowledge that Tanaka’s alien theory might have some merit to it after all! At the thought, he instinctively reached for the pistol in his hip holster. He flicked the snap open and quickly drew the pistol, holding it steady in both hands as he took a step closer to the anomaly. His eyes widened when he saw a woman twisting and falling to the ground. Her arm rose in a defensive move. It took less than a second to understand why when a massive black creature with three legs leaped to attack her.

  The familiar recoil of his gun firing reverberated through him. He’d aimed for the center of the creature’s forehead before lowering the gun to aim at its broad chest. With each shot, he took a determined step closer in an effort to reach the woman and get her to safety.

  The black body crashed to the rock and sand strewn beach with enough force that Mike could feel the ground shake from the impact. The body skidded several feet before it came to a halt near the woman. The woman’s head lifted, and she stared in shock at the dead creature.

  Mike released a smothered curse when Charlie darted past him toward the woman. “Charlie, heel! Damn it, dog. Will you come here?” he ordered in a sharp voice.

  He stepped closer and briefly looked down at the woman before his gaze moved to scan the area in case there were any more of the things waiting to attack. Once he was fairly confident there were no more, he turned his gaze back to the thing he’d just shot. Hell, it didn’t even look like it was from Earth!

  Shaken, he looked at the mahogany-haired woman gazing up at him in shock. He didn’t know much about wildlife, but one thing he did know—the thing he’d just killed looked like something out of a science fiction or horror movie.

  And so did the woman, he thought.

  Chapter Four

  An hour earlier on the Isle of Magic: