Witches of Three: Charlene

by Temple Hogan

  “You’re the one who shot him, aren’t you?”

  Ray grinned. “You were always too smart for your own good, Charlie,” he said nastily. “I knew if anyone figured it out, it would be you.”

  “Geronimo said something about that day. I thought he was kidding, but he was working on a hunch. That’s why he wanted to see Kermit Nolan, and that’s why Nolan shot him. You told him to.”

  “I used to laugh at Ralph. He thought he was the brains behind it all. He never knew I was the real boss. I told Nolan to get rid of Geronimo.”

  “Then you tried to kill Geronimo because I said I was going to talk to him again, and you shot at me at the hospital.” She stared at him in disbelief. “Were you the one who attacked me at my house?”

  She took a step toward him. “Are you the one who held a gun against my throat? You shot me. If not for Nick arriving when he did and spoiling your aim, I would have been killed. Is that what you wanted to do?”

  She stopped talking because it hurt too much. She’d thought of Ray as a friend, and yet he’d nearly killed her and Geronimo and had succeeded with Ralph.

  “What went wrong?” she asked. “What made you shoot your own guys?”

  Ray took a deep breath and stared at the other cops milling beside their cars.

  “Ralph had an ego that got him in the end. He couldn’t believe that you wouldn’t go with him but was having an affair with the captain. It drove him crazy. That’s all he talked about. He was willing to put our whole plan in jeopardy just to pay you back. I had to stop him.”

  He opened his car door.

  “Are you coming with me, or are we going to lose some more good men out here in the middle of the parking lot?” He had his gun out and held low so others weren’t apt to see it.

  Charlie reached for her holstered gun, then remembered she’d been headed for the hospital, not to work, and she’d left it at home. Ray grinned when he saw she was unarmed.

  “You won’t get away with this. You know that, don’t you?” she said.

  “Get in the car, Charlie,” he said pleasantly.

  He pointed the gun at her. He was right, of course. If she made an attempt to take him down here, people could get hurt. She could just blink the gun out of his hand, but something compelled her not to. That would mean showing him her powers, and until she was in real danger, she didn’t want to do that. She got in the car. Ray settled in the passenger seat and handed her the keys.

  “You drive,” he said evenly. “No tricks. Remember you won’t be the only one who gets killed. I have nothing more to lose.”

  She opened her mouth to argue with him, to tell him what he was doing was beyond what a policeman would do, but then realized he was right. He’d made some bad choices a long time ago, and he couldn’t undo them. All he could hope to do was cover them up, no matter how many people he had to kill.

  “Nothing personal,” he said now as if he’d read her mind.

  “No, nothing personal,” she repeated and turned the key in the ignition.

  The motor roared to life just as Nick pulled to the curb in his borrowed car. He glanced at them then did a double take as he saw her in Ray’s car.

  “Charlie!” he shouted, starting toward them.

  She slammed the gas pedal to the floor, and the car jumped forward. Nick leaped aside as she gunned it down the street. In the rearview mirror, she saw him run back to his car and tear out after them.

  “Don’t slow down,” Ray ordered. He had his pistol pressed into her side. “If the captain stops us, he’ll be the first to die.”

  She turned sharply round a corner and had the satisfaction of seeing Ray sway and nearly lose his grip on his gun.

  “No more tricks,” he said, jamming his gun against her bandaged jaw.

  She winched at the pain, but her mind was already scrambling to devise a plan. She waited until he stuck his head out the window and began firing at Nick who had gained on them and was right behind. He took aim and shot, and Charlie swerved the car sharply, nearly sideswiping a parked car on the other side of the road. Ray lunged against the door then withdrew his head and aimed his gun at her.

  “What did I tell you?” he shouted.

  She thought he might shoot her. Witches could die from gunshot wounds. She’d have to bide her time. She longed for her own gun.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to. Someone stepped out in front of me, a kid, and I didn’t want to hit him.”

  “Next time, hit him,” Ray snarled and once again stuck his head out the car window to aim at Nick.

  She had to do something, but before she could, Ray screamed. His gun flew out of his hand, scraping along the side of his car. He withdrew inside the car, cradling his bloody hand against his chest and glared at her.

  “What happened? Have you been shot?”

  “Hell, no, a bird attacked me.”

  “A bird? What kind of bird?” Suddenly, she pictured her sister turning into a crow and following a suspect like she had two years ago. She looked around, trying to see a crow.

  “Look out, it’s going to hit us,” Ray cried.

  Charlie saw he was right. The crow swooped down in front of the car then flew away.

  Okay, Phil or not, she couldn’t depend on anyone but herself now, and she no longer had to fear being shot. She took her foot off the pedal and drifted to the curb.

  “Don’t slow down,” Ray yelled, looking over his shoulder.

  “I didn’t,” she said. “The motor just died.”

  “Start it up again,” he ordered tensely.

  “I don’t think it’ll start, but I’ll try.”

  She turned the ignition key and the motor made a grinding sound like Nick’s car had and died. It wouldn’t have made any difference, she surmised, because Nick had already blocked them from pulling back into the street. Charlie looked at Ray, who cursed and threw open the car door.

  Nick was already there, his lips pressed in a tight line, his eyes glinting with angry lights, as he moved purposefully toward Ray. “Hey, Ray, what’s going on? Why did you take off like that, especially with Charlie in the car? And why were you shooting at my vehicle?”

  Ray swung at Nick, who was ready and blocked the attack, pushing Ray back against his car. Ray recovered and took off running.

  “He killed Ralph,” Charlie yelled, jumping out of the car and giving chase.

  She could hear Nick pounding along behind her and increased her speed. She was a fast runner on her own, but she added a little bit of extra magic just to show him what she was capable of. When she reached Ray, she took hold of the back of his shirt and ran him into a tree. His knees crumbled under him, and he fell to the ground.

  “Oops,” she said, looking at Nick with an innocent air.

  He, in turn, stared at her as if he were seeing a total stranger from outer space.

  “I guess we’d better call for backup,” she suggested and, bending, she scooped Ray up and steadied him on rubbery legs. His nose was bleeding, and his eyes were dazed looking.

  Back at the station, she booked Ray for murder and talked to Captain O’Shea about the confession Ray had made to her. The next thing was to get him to repeat that confession for the record. She expected him to be difficult, but an air of defeat had settled over him. He talked freely of the confiscated drugs he and Ralph Latimer had stolen and put back on the street. He also admitted he’d killed his partner and ordered Geronimo killed. They had everything down in his own words before he even thought of asking for a lawyer. It was late when they had finished.

  “Are you hungry?” Nick asked as they left the station.

  “I haven’t eaten all day so I’m starved, but all I really want to do is go home and go to bed.”

  “That sounds good to me,” he said, pulling her against him as they walked. “We have some leftover pasta.”

  “I love leftover pasta,” she said.

  Nick drove, and she slept until he pulled up before her condo. He came arou
nd and opened the door for her and held her against him as they made their way to the front porch.

  “I feel like we’ve been away for a year,” she said when they paused to unlock the door.

  He chuckled and guided her inside. They shed their things in a path to the bedroom. Nick turned on the hot water and helped her finish undressing then led her to the shower. They got in together and stood under the stinging spray. She thought it would be nice if he made love to her, but when she glanced at him, he shook his head.

  “We have some talking to do,” he said firmly.

  Obviously, what she’d told him about herself had finally registered. Wrapped in terry robes, they made their way to the kitchen where Nick took the leftover pasta out of the fridge and got out a pan to warm it.

  “Oh, why bother with all that?” she asked and blinked her eyes. Instantly, steam rose from the dish.

  “Ouch,” Nick said and dropped it on the counter.

  “Sorry,” Charlie said and filled their plates. She grabbed a couple of wine glasses and headed for the dining room table.

  “Want some salad?”

  “Are you going to make it?” he asked warily.

  “No, it’s already done.” She blinked and a filled salad bowl appeared. “Do you like Greek salad?”

  “Sure,” he said and sat down.

  She dished up the salad, and he took a tentative bite then looked at her in wonderment.

  “This is good!”

  “Of course, I made it fresh,” she said with a little smile.

  “About what you said earlier today,” he began tentatively.

  “Uh-huh.” She wasn’t paying real attention. Suddenly, she was famished, and Nick did make the best pasta she’d ever eaten, even reheated or maybe because it was, so she filled her mouth and sat back with a sigh of contentment.

  “Tell me again about you being a witch.”

  “What’s to tell? I’m a witch, so are my sisters.”

  “Both of them? Even shy little Sera?”

  “Of course. It runs in the family.”

  “I didn’t know real witches existed.”

  She looked at him and smiled. “Of course, we do, Nick. We’ve been around for thousands of years. What do you think Salem was all about?”

  “I thought everyone was demented and scared of something that never really existed so they killed a bunch of innocent women.”

  “Yes, well, those women were all innocent. Think about it. A real witch wouldn’t allow herself to be caught and put to death. She would have the power to escape.”

  He sat and thought about what she said, his food untouched. Finally, he turned his gaze back to her.

  “That business with the car earlier today when we were going after Nolan. That was you, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes,” she replied and suddenly wasn’t hungry anymore. “Is this going to make a difference?”

  “A difference? Yes, of course, it does. You’re a witch, and I’m an unemployed policeman. I’ve never been in this position before.”

  “Neither have I.”

  He jerked his head up to meet her gaze. “What do you mean? You’ve always been a witch. You’ve had years to get used to it.”

  “But I haven’t had years to get used to loving someone—someone who may not want to spend his life with a witch.”

  “Oh, that,” he said flatly. “That part’s not a problem.”

  “Now it’s your turn to explain,” she said around the tightness in her chest.

  He turned his beautiful baby blues on her, and she grabbed what little breath she had, waiting for him to say the words she needed him say. Even if she were a witch, she’d die if he didn’t.

  “I’d love you even if you were an old crone cooking up potions in a cauldron. That’s never going to change. Can you have children? Because I want a baby with you.”

  “Of course, Phil’s expecting her first.” Her heart melted at his words. Her whole being suffused with joy.

  “One other thing, did you put a spell on me? Because in the beginning, I couldn’t think of anything else but you, still can’t. I guess it doesn’t really matter if you did. I just need to know what I have to watch out for in the future.” He wound some spaghetti around his fork and thrust it into his mouth then sat chewing and studying her with a quizzical smile.

  “I would never do that to you,” she said solemnly, her gaze steady on him. She saw relief spread across his face.

  “I need to explain something to you. I have the same moral sense as any other human being. I don’t use my gifts to hurt or deceive. I’m capable of loyalty to the one I love and empathy and support. I won’t use my powers to wash your clothes or make your meals.” She paused and glanced at the salad.

  “I just did that to show off, but…” She held up her finger to emphasize what she was about to say. “If you’re in danger, I’ll use everything in my power to protect you.”

  He’d remained silent through all this, now he tightened his lips.

  “This is very lopsided,” he said seriously. “What have I got to give you in return? I’m just an ordinary man.”

  Charlie smiled widely. “You are not an ordinary man,” she told him. “You give me love and passion and support. You would die yourself trying to protect me. You’re smart and steadfast and so much more. If you don’t tell me again that you love me and still want to marry me, I’ll die right here.”

  “That’s something else,” he said. “Do witches age and die like the rest of us?”

  “I will,” she vowed.

  “You don’t have to. It would be kind of cool to be an old man with a babe on my arm.”

  “Is that your way of telling me you’ll marry me and stay with me forever?”

  “Of course, I will. The thought never crossed my mind not to.”

  “Oh, Nick.”

  She ran around the table and threw herself into his lap. His arms curled around her.

  “When do you want to get married?” he asked, nuzzling her ear.

  “Now, this very minute. I don’t want you to change your mind.”

  He hugged her tighter. “I never will. I just wondered if you want me now when I’m broke and jobless or later when I’m a successful lawyer.”

  “Now,” she repeated. “I have money enough for both of us.”

  “Actually, I have, too.”

  She drew back and looked at him questioningly.

  “I inherited from an uncle a few years ago, and I’ve never spent a nickel. I don’t have to work ever again if I don’t want to, but I do.”

  “I know how you feel. I don’t want to stop being a policewoman, but I feel so guilty that your career has ended.”

  “Don’t. I’m excited about the prospect of becoming a lawyer.”

  He put up his hand to cup her jaw. The bandage fell away, and he stared at her, startled. Self-consciously, Charlie put her hand to her jaw. There was no sign she’d ever been injured. She shrugged and looked away from Nick’s gaze.

  “Sometimes, I use witchcraft for good,” she said. “I didn’t want to have a scar.”

  “Did you help, Geronimo?” he asked softly.

  She nodded.

  “You know you saved his life?”

  She nodded again.

  “I’m learning all kinds of things about witches,” he said softly and pulled her head down on his shoulder where he feathered kisses across her face. Charlie sighed contentedly.

  “Are we going to bed soon?” she asked.

  “Oh, yes,” he said. “Do witches know how to use all kinds of positions?”

  “Like what?” she asked.

  “Oh, maybe, while flying through the air or something?”

  “I’m willing to try,” she offered.

  About the Author

  Temple Hogan is the author of over forty books, some hard cover, under the name of Peggy Hanchar and Peggy Roberts. She lives on an inland lake in Michigan with her husband, three cats and one naughty Shitz Tzu named Gizz. Her hobbies
are cooking, gardening, acrylic painting and reading detective stories. She’s currently at work on her next book.

  Temple loves to talk to her readers and can be found at TempleHogan.blogspot.com.

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