The Witch Box
Page 15
Chapter Thirteen
Anna put a frozen dinner in the oven before sitting at the kitchen table. She looked out through the sliding glass doors to the back yard, carpeted with fall leaves. She rose from the table, going outside to the deck.
The night sky was full of stars, the air crisp.
A good time for a protection spell, she thought.
She went back inside. A box full of Mason jars rested on top of the refrigerator. She used a chair as a step stool to allow her to pull a dusty jar and lid from the box.
She found some sewing needles, thumb tacks, and safety pins by searching in the junk drawer. The spell called for the jar to be filled half-way. She found a box of nails in the garage. After filling the jar, she used a cup to mix water and salt together. She poured the mixture over the sharp objects to the top. She screwed the lid on tight.
Anna took the jar out to her car. She pulled the pentagram she wore on a chain around her neck from under her blouse. She entered her car on the passenger side and laid the jar in the glove compartment. Before slamming the compartment door shut, she prayed:
“Blessed be, my mother Hecate.
By the pentagram I wear;
Water, Fire, Earth and Air.
I request this jar be used for protection.
Blessed be, my mother Hecate...”
Anna exited her car and locked it up. As she walked to her front porch, she wondered if she should show Joshua the jar. Maybe it would help him remember when he had taught her the spell, just weeks before he became sick.
Lois’s blind old dog Sunny eased herself from the floor, heading for the back door. Lois, who had been reading the Falls River Press at the kitchen table, rose from her seat to grab Sunny’s leash from a peg on the wall.
Sunny couldn’t go out alone anymore, especially at night. Lois sometimes felt as if she was looking after a grumpy old lady.
Sunny made a croaky growl as Lois put the leash on.
“Okay, Sun. No pooping in the house tonight.”
They made their way through the back door of the old house; one of two houses, the other a much older place less than a half mile away. Lois’s great-grandfather had built the little house when he bought the ten acres at the turn of the century. Now, after the drought and her divorce, Max Hildebrand owned every inch.
Lois stayed in her back yard, walking Sunny to her favorite spot. The dog squatted, and Lois looked past the oak trees, the night breeze blowing the carpet of leaves in different directions.
Lois didn’t regret quitting her job. She would miss the paycheck, not the work that made her back ache after sixteen years of working for Max Packaging .
Time for a change, she thought. Max can have this old house. I’ll go live with my sister in Falls River.
Sunny’s ears perked up. She growled. Lois looked around, but saw nothing. The porch light was on, but the area was dark where she stood.
Sunny started barking.
“Hush up, Sun. No one out here.”
However, Lois wasn’t really convinced. She buttoned up her thick sweater, pulling her long braid out of the collar. When she looked up, she saw a light in her grandparents’ house.
Who would be out there? she thought.
She let Sunny back inside. She grabbed a flashlight, taking the trail to the old house.
Lois had walked this trail all of her childhood. She considered both houses her home then, but no one had lived in her grandparents’ house since her grandmother went off to a nursing home in the 1970s. The place was sometimes used for storage, locked up most of the time.
Lois, when she reached the house, realized there was no light from any of the windows. She shook her head.
She ran the light over the front porch, decayed from neglect. She stepped with care to the door.
Lois peered into the cracked window. Grandma’s old sewing machine was covered with a sheet. Dust and cobwebs. Lois did not bring the key with her, so she couldn’t get in and didn’t care to.
She left the porch and headed back to the trail. She kept the flashlight on, taking hurried steps.
She heard a door shut; the rusty hinges on the front door making a tired whine. She could have turned around, but kept going. She did not want to know who was there. Probably the same face Marilyn saw.
Lois heard steps behind her, the leaves crunching underfoot. Her heart in her throat, she started to run.
She sprinted a few yards before something wet hit her back. Her pursuer had caught up, but she convinced herself that she would be all right if she could keep running.
The splash felt like water, cold drips in her hair. She took a deep breath, the smell filling her nose.
Oh, no...
She ran off the trail, into the trees. She had to slow down to unbutton her sweater, her braid saturated. She had dropped the flashlight.
Lois heard the footsteps coming closer. She dropped her wet sweater and started running between the trees. She stumbled a few times, but kept going. She was almost sixty years old and she felt as if her lungs were exploding. She was wheezing and her legs ached.
I have to keep going. I’ll die out here...
Lois reached the edge of the woods, nearing the highway. She had to get over a steep hill. She looked behind her for just a moment before she planned to leap to the top.
The gasoline splashed her full in the face, blinding her. She doubled over, gagging, but she could hear the ‘whoosh’ of the blow torch.
The flames began at her right pant leg, then the left, enveloping her in seconds. She screamed as she fell. More gasoline was added to the blaze, Lois’s cooking flesh creating smoke that could be seen from over the hill to the guardrail.
They were all silent at the farm house. Brenda and Max sat at the kitchen table, tight-lipped. Colbie and Joshua stood nearby.
Max had received the call in the middle of the night. Lois’s face was still intact enough to be identified by police.
“Bonnie and Ruth,” Joshua said.
Colbie shrugged. “Grandma will be—“
“Don’t say she’ll be fine. When Bonnie and Ruth are gone, who are next? What are the police doing, anyway?”
“They don’t know what to do,” Max said. “Our police department has never dealt with a serial killer of old people.”
“Marilyn and Lois weren’t that old,” Joshua said. “This isn’t about age at all. These women were Mom’s friends, her circle. And where the Hell is Leo?”
Max rose from the table, taking his coffee cup to the sink. “I’m going to work. You ready, Josh?”
Joshua was supposed to go into work at six, but Max had stayed home a few extra hours, no one sleeping after getting the news about Lois. Joshua’s mind was spinning during the silent ride to work.
What can I do to help myself? he thought.
His mother. The old house. All roads led to the past. He could use his memory loss to hide behind his father, but he was starting to wonder if Max was as strong as he seemed.
Dad is scared, too...
“Dad?”
Max kept his eyes on the road. “Yeah?”
“You told me about Harvester. Why?”
“I didn’t think you would ever forget him.”
“Do you know who killed Marilyn and Lois?”
Max shook his head. “I have no clue. Maybe someone from the plant?”
“Like who?”
“I don’t know. Someone who wants to see old witches dead?”
“Crushed and burned? Mom was burned—“
“Don’t remind me. Makes me want to go back to church.”
“Does the owner of Great Lakes—“
“He doesn’t know about Lois yet. I hope.”
Max parked in the lot. When they entered the front door, Anna was at her desk, her eyes red from crying.
“Bonnie is upstairs,” she said.
Max nodded and Joshua followed him to the elevator. The machines were running downstairs, but no one turned around to wave and smile.
Bonnie looked as if she hadn’t slept all night. She was wearing a sweater over a fleece shirt, but was rubbing her folded arms.
“You didn’t have to come in,” Max said. “I could handle it today.”
She shrugged. “What would I do? Sit around the house and wait for—“
“Bonnie, I need you to finish the packaging for Trident Automotive. The order needs to go out this afternoon.”
“Right, boss.” Bonnie turned to the two Great Lakes men. “Let’s get the glue guns plugged in, load up the table. As much as you can carry. You can work with me, Josh.”