Even Witches Get the Blues (Wicked in Moonhaven~A Paranormal Cozy Book 1)

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Even Witches Get the Blues (Wicked in Moonhaven~A Paranormal Cozy Book 1) Page 15

by J. D. Winters


  “Leave me alone!” I screamed, terrified of him.

  “Fat chance,” he yelled back, his face contorted. “You’re the only witness who saw me at the murder scene. You didn’t think I was going to be able to let that go, did you?”

  So he’d been lying that he was just driving by. And he must have been the presence I could sense inside the building. Why hadn’t I trusted my first instincts on that one?

  “You shot Scotty?”

  “Yes I did. With the gun so conveniently brought over by Rennie and left just for my purposes with her fingerprints all over it. It was a gimme. How could I resist?”

  I shook my head, desperate to find a way to escape but not seeing anything at all. “But why?”

  “Why? You met Scotty. He was an impossible jerk and I’d been dealing with him for too long. Besides, he was drinking so much he was hardly any use to me anymore. He had to go.” His eyes were turning red and widening as though he was really looking forward to what was to come next. “And so do you,” he spit out, grinning as he came at me like a hawk on a baby bird.

  I closed my eyes, sure that this was it, and raised my arms around my face, tensing for the blow that was coming my way. But just as I should have felt it, I felt something else. Wings. Feathers.

  I opened my eyes and cried with joy. My raven had come!

  He was battering Crocker with his long black wings and Crocker was crying out in anger and frustration. I took my chance, shoved past them and ran back the way we’d come. This time I would have to go through the park. Damn it.

  Oh well. I’d already been through the park once today. I could do it again. I was alone this time. I didn’t even have my dog. But I knew what the park was like. I knew the terrain, the distance, the…the risk. I could do it.

  I didn’t know how long my raven would be able to hold him off. I dashed across the street and headed for the trees. Right past the koi pond, right past the table….and suddenly Crocker was right behind me again.

  My heart was pounding and I had to fight to pull in oxygen. I was already almost spent. How was I going to make it across the park and into my building? I didn’t see a way. It was all laid out right in front of me, but I couldn’t make it. I would never beat Crocker in a footrace and that was what we were in by now.

  I looked back. His face was more distorted than ever, and his limbs seemed to have lost their joints. They were bending in the wrong direction, shooting out right and left in a grotesque imitation of real limbs. And worse, he was so close, he could almost have reached out and grabbed me. If he tried a tackle, I was probably done for. But I couldn’t let him catch me!

  He yelled something and I screamed something back. I could see ahead that I was going to have to slow down going through the children’s play equipment area. No! I couldn’t.

  I had to do something different. I’d have to take this jog off to the right and…and start to climb. I was climbing. I was going higher and higher and I knew what that meant. My mountain trail was back and right in front of me. I was going up.

  I couldn’t pretend this was a good thing, but if it let me get away from Crocker, how could I complain? I would have to be careful and try not to do anything that would set off my magic. I just didn’t know what would happen to me if that got triggered.

  And where was Crocker? Had I left him behind? Was he on the same trail or was he down below, wondering where I’d gone? I couldn’t see him. Exhilaration filled me, gave me new energy, and I ran faster and faster.

  And then—there he was, coming down the trail toward me. Just the way Scotty had come the day before. I forced myself into a full stop, setting my feet, getting ready for the moment when we met, arms raised, determination full and ready.

  When he reached me, he was coming downhill and going too fast to stop—just the way Scotty had been. I reached out with all my strength and countered his body weight. He was yelling at the top of his lungs and his eyes were red like fire. I screamed and yelled right back—a short phrase, something strange and rhyming that came to me out of nowhere-- and as he hit me, I yelled, “Down you go, Demon!” and sent him over the ledge. Just like Scotty.

  I watched him fall out of sight, still yelling. And then there was the sound of something heavy hitting the ground. And nothing else.

  What did it mean? What did it mean? I didn’t know.

  This time I didn’t care if I’d hurt him. This time, he was for sure a demon and you have to do what you can to fight them. I knew this as though I’d been born with it engraved on my heart. Demons had to be conquered. There was no other way.

  I started down the path, going quickly but without the panic I’d had when I was climbing. At the bottom of the trail, I could see Shane waiting for me. I ran right at him, right into his arms, and stayed there for a long, long moment.

  I didn’t cry. Those emotions seemed to have hardened in me. But I soaked up his comfort as though I’d been near death from thirst and he was my own special life-saving spring. When I could do it, I pulled away, and I didn’t look him in the eye. Instead, I pulled the Quit Deed out of my pocket and handed it to him, along with the deed that showed my ownership.

  Then I turned back toward the street.

  “Where are you going?” Shane called to me.

  I looked back, almost groggy with relief and exhaustion. “Oliver,” I started to say. “My raven. I have to see if he’s hurt.” I was truly worried. It was getting dark and I knew he had to be home by nightfall.

  “There he goes.” Shane pointed to the sky.

  I looked up. Sure enough it was my raven. He swooped down and did a sort of barrel roll, like an old time pilot, and I laughed and waved as he flew off toward his home.

  I looked at Shane. “Where is Crocker?” I asked him.

  He gave me a wistful smile. “We’ve got him,” he said. “Don’t worry about him. You’ll never see or hear from him again.”

  I looked at him intently. “You sure?”

  He nodded. “I’m sure. I’m the hunter, remember? I know how to take care of these things.”

  I sighed, finally ready to relax, finally filled with the feeling of victory and peace. “Okay,” I said, turning to him again. “Take me back to my motel, Mr. Hunter. I think I’m going to need to sleep for a week.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  My grandmother’s house clung to its craggy rock face as though it had been organically grown there, feeding off the mineral nutrients of the jagged stone. It amazed me every time I saw it.

  “You must think of this as your true home, Haley,” she told me more than once. “You’ll live down in the town, of course, but when you need me, come stay here. I’ll have your room made ready at all times.”

  I was grateful—sort of. And wary—very. I still wasn’t sure what she’d brought me back here for. Once I found out her ultimate goal, I might have a different opinion.

  Though she still wouldn’t tell me anything much about my past, she seemed to be bending over backwards to make me happy in other ways. Today we were having a celebratory dinner and when I’d told her I wanted a hunter to come, she’d fanned herself vigorously a few times, then gulped and said to go ahead and invite him.

  When Shane arrived, he didn’t look any more comfortable with the visit than she did. We sat on her immense deck that hung out over the ocean and watched the waves hit the black rocks beneath us, while sea gulls dove and cried around us. Gran Ana—as I was trying to get used to calling her—talked about her time living on the coast of France and her trips into the haunted forests of Romania. I tried to ask polite questions. Shane didn’t say much.

  He’d worn fitted slacks and a baby blue sweater and was looking exceptionally handsome. I wore a long white lacy dress that I’d found in one of my grandmother’s closets. She said it used to belong to my mother. That was enough for me.

  She did have some interesting things to say about forests and the paranormal beings they often sheltered, and some of her comments were starting to get needless
ly pointed toward Shane and his identity as a hunter—and I decided it was time to get him to do some talking.

  “You know, I’m glad we caught Scotty’s killer and all, but I still have some things about the whole situation that I can’t quite reconcile with others. For instance, what exactly was Crocker doing with Scotty? He was obviously partnering with him in some sort of project, but what was it?”

  Shane hesitated, looked at my grandmother and then back at me. “I don’t know how much you understand about the paranormal problems we have in Moonhaven,” he said at last. “The area is periodically infested by demons. The same way termites look for soft wood as their entryway to the wood in your house, demons look for portals. Crocker was grooming Scotty’s place as a front for demon entry.”

  I was aghast. “And you knew about it?”

  “We’d just become suspicious of it lately. SCOPE—the State Council on Preternatural Events-- had sent some investigators here a few weeks ago and they’d picked up some evidence. But it wasn’t until Wednesday that they gave us a heads up on what had been going on at Scotty’s. And Crocker’s name was mentioned.” He raised an eyebrow. “I’d just read the report when I texted you to watch out for him.”

  “Too late,” I mentioned. “A couple of hours earlier would have been helpful.”

  He grinned at me. “You handled things very well, considering.”

  I gave him a narrowed eyes look. “Considering what?”

  “Considering that you’re a newbie at this stuff.”

  I opened my mouth to say something snarky, thought better of it, and closed it again.

  Meanwhile, Gran Ana had her own questions.

  “Just what was going on with the mayor and his wife?” she asked. “That almost seemed like a Keystone Cops routine.”

  “Yes, but they’re kind of sweet,” I told her. “The mayor thought Rennie might have shot Scotty, and Rennie thought he did it. So they were each trying to cover up what the other might have done, and just ended up making more trouble for themselves.”

  “Well, I don’t understand how you people at the sheriff’s station let her go around taking guns home.”

  He grunted. “No one let her. She just did it on her own. And it’s true, we’ve tended to be too lenient with her hanging around the place.” He paused, one eyebrow raised. “But she does bring us cookies. Chocolate chip. Just baked. So you can hardly blame us.”

  I cocked my head to the side. “So if I bring you brownies, will I get to do anything I want around the station?”

  One side of his mouth was twisted in a half smile. “What do you have in mind?”

  “She won’t be making brownies anyway,” Gran Ana said crisply. “Croissant sandwiches. That will be her specialty. And anyone who wants one will have to pay.”

  Shane looked at me sideways. “You can cook?” he asked skeptically.

  “Brownies,” I said stoutly. “I’m a wiz at brownies.”

  “Sandwiches,” my grandmother said. “Croissant sandwiches. That’s the plan.”

  “With brownies for desert,” I added, making a face at her. If she thought she was going to be ruling my every move, she had another thought coming. “I’ve got some great ideas. Mint brownies, peanut butter brownies, cheese-cake brownies. All I need is some recipes.”

  She glared at me. “Well, all this talk of food has made me hungry. Shall we go in?”

  I knew there was a dining room with a big long table and places for about twenty people, but we made our way into the tea room instead and Oliver served us at a small round table set with sterling silver, fine linen and bone china. Very simple but elegant.

  We started with Vichyssoise and brie on crackers, then had lamb chops cooked in mint, roasted potatoes and steamed broccolini. Desert was crème brulee and raspberries in a liqueur sauce.

  We talked about simple things while eating, but once the table had been cleared, the conversation got serious again. We discussed my situation a little, and then Shane looked at Gran Ana and said to her, point blank, “What I want to know is, when do you plan to give Haley back her memories?”

  I turned to stare at him. How did he know that so accurately? I hadn’t told him the facts, only the vague idea that I might have some amnesia issues. Had he figured it out all by himself? Or could he read my mind like Bentley could? Oh brother. That was the last thing I needed—Shane reading my mind!

  Gran touched her lips with her handkerchief and said calmly, “What gives you the idea that I have her memories hidden away from her?”

  “I know she doesn’t have any. And I think it’s kind of rotten to leave her out in the cold that way. She needs something, some bits and pieces of her past to hang her heart and soul on. You expect her to be willing and able to do projects for you, to make your situation better. But what are you prepared to give her?”

  I was breathless. He was my advocate and I hadn’t even asked for that.

  But Gran Ana smiled dismissively. “My dear young man, I don’t think you understand at all. Her situation is already so much better than it was.”

  Shane was getting angry. I could see the throb starting up at his temple. I stared at him, not sure how to take all this.

  “Let her make that decision,” he said. “Give her something to build her dreams on.”

  “Dreams!” Gran Ana waved that concept away as though it was a pesky fly.

  “Everybody needs dreams,” Shane said evenly.

  My heart was beating very fast. Suddenly I didn’t want to hear any more of this. Gran Ana reached out and took my hand.

  “One thing I think you should know is this,” she said kindly. “The reason I’m hesitant to try providing your memories—and I don’t even know if I can—is that you were quite an obstinate and rebellious youngster. I don’t want to remind you of what you were like at that time. I don’t want to risk sending you down that hellish spiral again. If you become that girl again, it will ruin everything. I’m taking a risk with you as it is.”

  I drew in a sharp breath. Ice water in my veins. Yes, this was where it came from. I looked at her. “I’m not resentful yet. But I have a feeling I could get to that state fairly easily.” I tried to smile, but it was just too much. “Excuse me,” I said, and went into the hallway, then found the bathroom. I splashed cold water on my face and looked in the mirror.

  “Who are you, Haley Greco?” I whispered.

  Instead of going back out to the tea room, I wandered the unfamiliar halls, trying to settle myself, trying to calm my pulse. I pushed open an ornately carved wooden door and walked into a beautiful bedroom. I knew instinctively it had to belong to my grandmother. The drapes were stunning, as was the view from the large bay window. But what caught my attention was a small stack of photographs on the dresser. I went over and picked them up, paging through them quickly.

  I wanted memories? Here was my family. I knew it without having to see the list on the back of the group picture. My beautiful mother, smiling and looking serenely happy. My father, dark haired and handsome, looking a bit more uncertain, a bit more worried about something. My brother, a cocky kid with a mischievous smile.

  And me. Wow. That face was so familiar, and yet the expression wasn’t. What a brat. What on earth could have caused the resentment I saw? The anger?

  I stared for a long time, then took a deep breath and set the photos back on the dresser. I was trembling, but I was okay. Slowly, I turned and went back to the others, pausing just outside the door to hear what they were saying. I was hoping they had gone on to another subject. But no, they were still discussing my shortcomings.

  “You talk blithely of giving her a chance to be herself,” Gran Ana was saying in a tense low voice. “You haven’t thought this through. And there are things you don’t know.” She drew in an angry breath. “So against my better judgment, I’m going to explain them to you. Just so you understand that what you want is impossible. You see, Haley was in a car accident over a year ago. She was kept alive for weeks on life suppor
t systems. But she didn’t survive.”

  “She didn’t….” Shane’s voice trailed off.

  “No. She died.”

  I heard her words, but I’d already taken in where this conversation was going. Still, I froze, paralyzed. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. The horror of what she was saying swept over me.

  And she went on.

  “I’ve gone to a lot of effort to bring her back, you know. I’ve had to call in a lot of favors from some very powerful sources. But I felt I needed her help, and so I was willing to go the distance.”

  “Help? Help to do what?”

  Was it my imagination, or was Shane’s voice as shaky as my whole body was right now? I had to reach out to stop myself from falling. I fought back the powerful urge to vomit. I couldn’t do that. I had to maintain control.

  But she went on, her sigh still angry. “You know that my son and his wife—Haley’s parents—disappeared three years ago. I need Haley to help me find them and bring them back. That’s why I returned from France. It’s a matter of saving my people, of saving our tenuous foothold here on the coast. A matter of life or death for a whole civilization.”

  I could tell that Shane was sitting in stunned silence. Closing my eyes I struggled to get back to normal. After all, this wasn’t a complete surprise to me. I’d had a feeling all along that I wasn’t quite…normal. It was rather a relief to know the truth.

  I took a deep breath and decided it was time to join them. Walking in, I smiled at the two of them—my grandmother with her patrician airs…Shane looking shell-shocked.

  “So,” I said brightly. “Who’s up for a game of Scrabble?”

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