Star’s eyes lost the anger, trading it in for tears as she leaned against the bookshelf, and cried. “Sorry. It’s simply hard to lose your best friend.”
Mallory got up and led her away from the bookshelf worried she’d accidently open the secret passage to the cottage. “Come back and sit down.” She said, as she poured a finger of whiskey for Star, and handed it to her.
“No, I need to stand.” She said, and went back to pacing.
“It’s okay, Mal. She can stand. Why don’t you go grab her some Kleenex? I have some questions for her.”
Mallory pulled a small plastic package of tissues from her pocket and handed them to Star. “I’ll leave you two to talk,” she hugged Star goodbye and hurried into the corridor grabbing a butterscotch candy from the hall dish as she passed.
Lizzy was peeking out of the dining room just as Mallory passed. “Is everything okay?”
“I think it’s fine now. It was just a shock.”
Mallory unwrapped the butterscotch. She had it halfway to her mouth when a knock sounded on the front door.
Lizzy jumped up. “Who could that be?”
“I’m sure it’s just another Bohemian looking for shelter from the storm,” Mallory said good-naturedly. The truth was she wasn’t sure how many more they could fit. “You answer it.”
Lizzy headed for the front and Mallory used the opportunity to peek in on Edwin. He was still there in the lounge, his head resting on the bar. She had just taken a step forward when Lizzy opened the front door and a tiny woman with dove-gray beehive hair and wire-rimmed glasses blew inside with the wind and the rain. She wore a bright yellow raincoat that overwhelmed her petite frame. It was Mrs. Hatti Dustfeather, one of the main historians of the Bohemian Lake Historical Museum.
“Hatti! What are you doing here?” Mallory asked, coming to help her close the door.
“Mal, we need help at the museum. There’s been some damage, and I think we better get it taken care of in case this gets worse. Could you spare a few able bodies?”
Eve and the others seemed to have everything in hand here.
“Of course. I’ll come too. I could use the distraction.”
The Bohemian Lake Historical Museum held all the treasures of the town’s sometimes checkered past, from witch hunters to the present day. Mallory rounded up some volunteers and they were on their way.
The museum was one of her favorite places and was just down the road. Not that it mattered much in this case. Mallory just wanted to get away from what had become an impossible atmosphere. Something ached inside of her when she thought of Sylvia dying alone out in the storm.
Maybe she hadn’t been the nicest person, but no one should have to die that way. Looking into the face of her friend, Mallory had felt heartsick. What a terrible thing for Star and Sylvia to go through.
The fear she’d felt when she touched that Ouija board–Sylvia must have experienced that fear.
Maybe Mallory was too emotional about it, she thought as she walked around the museum with Mrs. Dustfeather, surveying the damage. Maybe she wasn’t seeing clearly.
But why had Sylvia been outside while the storm was raging over Bohemian Lake? Surely, a witch would have known better than to be near water and under trees during a severe storm.
Rationally, Mallory supposed she could’ve run out of the back door after being with Edwin upstairs. Maybe she was running from him.
Mallory attempted to ignore her thoughts since they were finally wrapping up. In fact, now that she looked around, very few people were left. They had come up with a good system. She had been the beginning of their assembly line, sweeping broken glass and sand into a dustpan before depositing the debris into cardboard boxes. Once she moved past the first window, a few men were hammering wood slats–from pallets or whatever else they could find–over the broken windows to keep the weather out. While others had removed the boxes.
Mal emptied her dustpan and leaned the broom against the wall. After that she walked through the rooms filled with paintings, photos, maps and old ledgers written by witch hunters, seeing all those things she had heard stories about growing up here. She loved the tales of the old Bohemians, how the witches had faced off against the witch hunters and won. Of course, many had died before that and she mourned the women that had been persecuted here. Being Roma, she knew all about persecution.
Suddenly, Mallory had that strange, fluttering feeling again as she walked by an old portrait.
The plaque said he was the last witch hunter to have hanged a witch in Bohemian Lake. She’d seen this portrait dozens of times, but she never really noticed how lifelike his dark eyes were—cold and evil, and like they were looking right into her soul. He wore a black wide brimmed hat and a long black coat, with a buckled tunic. The crossbow and rope at his side looked deadly, and she got an odd feeling that he was judging her, too. She took a step back.
“Easy there, Mal!” Mick, one of the town’s other historians, caught her as she walked into him. “Old Balthasar put the moves on you, did he?”
The storm had spooked her–the storm and the séance–not to mention finding Sylvia’s dead body. She needed a bath–maybe a good, stiff espresso with a shot of Irish cream. Everything was making her jumpy.
Mick followed her outside. “You know, they say Balthasar changed his ways before he died. They say he even married a witch.”
“Is that so?”
“Speaking of witches and marriage material, how’s that foxy little grandmother of yours.”
Mallory smirked, “She’s good, Mick. I’ll tell her you said hello.”
“You can tell her more than that.”
“Not if you don’t want a curse laid at your feet,” Mallory retorted.
“She would, wouldn’t she, the little minx? That’s why I love her.” He gave a wink and shuffled off.
Floating along the edge of her vision was that strange ball of light again. This orb was large like the one at Peace and Light, further cementing Mallory’s belief that two different ghosts were visiting her. Seeing it raised the hairs on the back of her neck, and Mallory thought about the strange voice she’d heard when she found Sylvia’s body.
Mallory reminded herself that the voice must have come from her imagination—just a response to the wild, crashing waters and the body swinging above her. But only part of her believed that.
She needed to see Star and talk to her about the séance they’d had. Mallory wasn’t sure exactly who the spirit ball was, but what if it had followed her from the shop to the manor and was trying to communicate. What if it was Bohemian Lake’s notorious witch hunter—returning from the grave to hang a witch once more.
TEN
A bedraggled Mallory returned to the manor at two a.m. to find Kaden and Captain Cody Lumos sitting on the foyer’s stairs. Cody’s phone rang just as Kaden stood to greet her.
“Lumos. You’re on speaker” Cody said.
“I have the preliminary results of the autopsy,” the ME stated gruffly.
“Why preliminary and I’m here with Detective Kaden Bones and the manager of Caravan Manor. Please go ahead.”
“Alright then, preliminary because you know we don’t work that fast. I believe the cause of death is asphyxiation via ligature strangulation.”
“No surprise there.”
“No, Captain Lumos, you don’t understand. Based, on bruising, she was strangled with a ligature perimortem, which looks to have fractured her hyoid bone, then she was hanged, this was a homicide. There looks to be three sets of bruising on the neck. There are some small oval bruises near the base of the decedents neck, some straight-line bruising just below the jaw that corresponds to cross-over bruising on the back of the neck, and faint upward marks from the rope that was around her neck when she was found.”
“Dr. Howell, you’re sure this wasn’t self-inflicted?”
“Not a chance! The straight-line bruising has a pattern and I found a microscopic fiber in an abraded area. It was leather. I bel
ieve you are looking for a braided leather rope. It looks like the perp was behind the victim, having wrapped the rope around her neck, crossing it in the back to strangle her. I’ll send my full report to your office when I complete the autopsy, and keep in mind, everything I’ve just told you hasn’t been verified.”
“I didn’t believe she was suicidal, but to hear how Sylvia was murdered…” Mal shuddered.
“I apologize, Mal. I didn’t know he would go into such detail over the phone.”
“No, Cody, it’s okay. I did find the body. Oh, did Kaden tell you about the necklace and the vision I had?”
“I haven’t had time.” Kaden looked apologetic.
Mallory pulled both pieces from her pocket. “I forgot to give this to you. As you can see the onyx stones are oval shaped. I had a vision when I touched the chain, Edwin broke up with Sylvia and she yanked this necklace off and threw it at him. I found the chain in her room, but the onyx stones portion on the floor in the kitchen.”
“That information will be useful during questioning tomorrow. I’m gonna head out now but do I need to post a guard on him?”
“No, we’ll lock him in his room.” Mallory yawned as Cody left. She locked the double doors behind him and turned to Kaden. “Are you sleeping over?”
“It’s late, and you’re exhausted.” Kaden wrapped his arms around her.
“Are you saying I look terrible? I don’t know about this new trend of insulting me.”
“Mallory, I think you know better than that. You’re beautiful and the only girl for me, so I’m not going to do anything to mess that up. I was just stating facts.”
“Just the facts, ma’am?” Mal teased. The intense flutter in her stomach at his words making her almost giddy.
“Absolutely. Now, you get upstairs, and I’ll lock Edwin in.”
“And then you’ll come up?”
Kaden smiled. “Fine. Yes.”
***
Mallory was just dozing off when she heard Kaden come in. She watched him rub his arms and then tiptoe over to window.
“What are you doing?” She mumbled, sleepily.
“Checking to see if there’s a window open. It’s freezing in here.” He replied and yanked his t-shirt over his head. His pants soon followed and suddenly, she could see his breath in the frigid air. A small dim light appeared in the corner near the nightstand and Kaden reached her in two steps.
He pointed to the corner and whispered. “What’s that?”
“You can see that?” Mal whispered. “I mean, obviously you can, but how?”
Kaden shrugged his shoulders.
“Hello?” Mallory asked. The light flared a bit and floated closer to her. “Can I help you?”
It was still tiny, but very bright and then suddenly gone.
“Well, that was different. What was it?” Kaden asked.
“I think it was a ghost light or orb, but I don’t know for sure. Now I’ve seen a tiny one twice and a large one twice. I’m starting to believe two different ghosts are trying to communicate with me because one seems to be stronger than the other. And there’s something I should probably tell you.”
“Geez, you’re like ice!” He said as he pulled the blankets up to her chin. “What is it?”
“I think Star and I may have accidently summoned a witch hunter?”
Kaden laughed and climbed under the blankets, pulling her to him. “You are so silly, sometimes.”
Mallory pulled away and sat up. “Kaden, I’m serious.”
She was so cold it caused him to shiver, too.
“Mallory. Go to sleep and we’ll talk about this tomorrow.”
“Fine, oh, one more thing. I forgot to tell you about the necklace.”
“Baby, you told me and repeated it for Cody. Are you feeling alright?” Laying his hand on her forehead.
“No, I mean about the water. The part I found in the kitchen was in a puddle of water. It was large enough that my shoes and skirt got wet.”
“It was pouring outside. Someone must have tracked it in. Everyone has access to the kitchen.”
“Still, it’s strange there was just that one puddle and the necklace was found in it, too.”
“Yes, and I doubt ghosts track water so just relax. We’ll look at everything again tomorrow.”
“What did you have in mind for tonight, sailor?”
Kaden started kissing her eyes, nose, and then finally her mouth, heat raced through her body.
He tucked her into his shoulder and said, “Sleep!”
ELEVEN
M allory was staring up at the tree. It was seven in the morning and the storm had finally abated. Mal turned when she heard whistling.
“Looking for another stiff?” Eve sing-songed out.
“No!” Mal frowned. “And anyway, don’t you think it’s a bit ghoulish to whistle at the scene of a murder?”
“Well, I never. Last I checked there were no social laws around whistling, Missy. You know, just ‘cause you’re dating a cop, doesn’t mean you have to act like one.”
“Sorry, Eve.”
“What’s the matter, anyway, didn’t get any last night?” Eve quipped.
“Not your business.” Mallory’s eyes narrowed. “However, the Big Frickin’ Committee is, especially if you aspire to the lofty role of president. I need your help.” Mallory rubbed her forehead.
“Name it, honey. For all my smart-ass comments, you know I’ll help.”
Mallory noticed the concern on Eve’s face. Aww. The sarcastic old biddy was worried about her. Which shouldn’t have surprised Mal. Eve was a conundrum unto herself. The town’s mother hen, gossip mill and pain in the ass—all rolled into one. She watched over everyone in town and Mallory had overheard her tell Penny how bad she felt about Jilli being missing for eighteen years even though she was now back home. Of course, there was no need to worry. Mal had always had Nana–the fierce protector of both herself and Danior—but you couldn’t change a bird’s feathers and Eve was the town’s unofficial surrogate mother—like it or not.
“You said murder scene, so the autopsy is complete?”
“Yes, enough to know it was a homicide.”
Eve looked up in the tree.
“The bark has been stripped, and it goes over that branch up there. I didn’t sleep much and kept wondering how someone could be hanged without anyone seeing something.”
“The storm was keeping everyone pretty busy last night, so it’s not that surprising. Plus, the booze was flowing and we are a fair distance from the manor.”
“That’s true.” Mallory carefully picked her way to the other side of the willow tree, letting the branch leaflets brush her face. She remembered swinging on the soft branches when she was a child. The best time was when her dad lifted her above his head, she would grab hold of a handful of branches and Marco would get her swinging by pulling her legs to and fro. Nana used to get so angry when the branches broke. She said they were hurting the tree which upset Mallory, until next time anyway.
“You know, this is where Nana gets the willow bark for her teas and remedies. She carefully harvests it here every spring. She’s going to be beside herself about the fact someone was hanged here.”
“Yes, I suppose it will be depressing to be down here. I’ll come with her if you think it’ll help.”
“Well, yes. Of course, she’ll be upset about the loss of Sylvia’s life, but also for the negative vibrations. They’ll affect the tree. The Roma believe in balance, so we’ll have to find a way to rebalance the tree. Hey! Look over here.” Mal pointed out to Eve. “There’s a matching injury on this side.”
“Not surprising really, considering.” Eve looked up.
“No, the rope she was hung from wasn’t up that high.” Mal mumbled to herself.
“Here comes Danior, so maybe you can tell us both what you need.”
“Huh?”
“You said you needed my help.”
Mallory shook her head. “Yes, sorry. I need some caffeine.
”
“What are you guys doing out here?”
“Mallory was just communing with the tree. We need to have an impromptu strategy meeting,” Eve said. “And I’m in charge.”
“Really? Eve’s in charge?”
“Huh? Yes. I need to be involved with the investigation and Cody will be here soon. Would you divide up the seminars amongst yourselves and the other BFC members and attend them? We originally planned to just be there for the first few minutes of each session, but I’m not sure how everyone will react after the events of last night.”
“Don’t worry, Mallory, we’ll whip them into shape or…just whip them,” Eve joked, pointing to her purse, which was always stocked with plenty of heavy artillery.
“I thought you wanted to attend some of these seminars to see what you can learn about your gifts?” Danior asked.
“I did. Very much so. Maybe tomorrow. Right now, this is more important than what I wish.”
“Come along, brat! I’ll put you to work.” Eve wrapped her arm around Danior’s shoulders.
“You’re in charge for five minutes and it’s already gone to your head.”
Mallory watched them head back to the manor, bickering all the way. She turned, following the direction the tree injury pointed, after about twenty feet she saw the tracks left in the mud. This was odd. Mal returned to the tree, unsure of what she was doing. She tentatively reached out to the trunk, bracing herself before touching it. Images rushed through her head and emotions, namely one. Fear! Not just for Sylvia herself, but someone else as well. Mallory stepped away, swaying. Well, at least it didn’t hurt this time, just made her feel weak.
“What are you doing out here?!” Kaden asked.
Mal jumped. “Holy hell, you scared me, Kaden. Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed?”
“I’ve been calling your name. Didn’t you hear me?” Kaden asked.
“No. Look over here; there are tire tracks in the mud.” Mallory continued to tell him everything she found and her new theory.
“You didn’t sleep much. How long have you been out here?”
Ouija, Death & Wicked Witchery Page 5
