The Empty Cradle

by Jill Nojack

  Natalie looked down. She hadn’t realized she’d soiled her bag with the man’s blood. And how long would that take to clean, she wondered?

  “Fine,” she said. “I’m fine. William has taken Junior Rangel to the hospital. He should also be fine. Up and around and drinking himself into an early grave within days, I expect.” She looked toward the altar, where Gillian sat propped up against its face. “You look terrible. Pale.”

  “I think it’s probably a bad idea to call on the Goddess this way again. The experience was nothing like the last one.”

  “Ya think?” Cassie said.

  Gillian’s disappointment came across clearly when she replied, “She’s as capricious as her sister was, even if she’s not a demon. But I believe what she said; if we find the creature, we’ll find the child. I’m convinced she’s alive. At least, that’s the feeling I got when she said it.”

  Cassie’s relief washed over her like a wave. Her breath left her when it hit, and she had to take a deep breath to replace it. “Jenny has to know. Right away.”

  Natalie responded, “First, I think we should get out of here, don’t you? Unless you’re eager to run into whatever is prowling these woods? From what I saw, the creature has a master. When we find who holds its leash, we’ll find the child. And what are you going to tell her? ‘Natalie has a good feeling about this.’”

  Cassie helped Gillian to her feet. She looked better, a little more color in her face as she asked, “But what about the creature? Is it magical or not? And is its master a witch? If not, it’s still not the coven’s business. I can’t keep sneaking off like this. Robert will figure it out.”

  “My best instinct still says there’s magic hiding here and that it was involved with the murder in some way,” Natalie replied. “If the creature didn’t do it, then what’s the purpose of it? To prey on the local pets? Even Anat wasn’t that petty. I’ll need to talk to Junior as soon as he’s capable to find out exactly what happened. If he didn’t get a close look at it before, he certainly has now. I need to know what he saw.”

  She finished packing her things and strode purposefully back down the path the way they’d come. “Keep up,” she called back to her companions. “We’ve wasted enough time talking.”

  17

  Denton was in a foul mood when he returned from Boston. The trip had done nothing but suck away his time. In the end, it turned out to be a false alarm if it wasn’t an outright prank. There had been no child where the caller had said there should be one.

  And when he entered an abandoned police station and checked each room looking for his staff, his mood grew fouler. What was going on?

  He headed for the cells.

  It took a second for him to process that it was Rogers behind the bars of Holgerson’s cell instead of Butch Holgerson.

  He unlocked the cell door as Rogers spouted, “Look, chief—I don’t know how she did it. But Jenny Holgerson busted her husband out, and he conked me before I knew what was happening.” The officer rubbed the back of his head, a pained expression on his face.

  “Jenny Holgerson?”

  “Yeah, it was Jenny. She came in saying she wanted to talk to him, and I thought it couldn’t do any harm. I was wrong, but…well, would you have done any different?”

  Denton knew he wouldn’t have. He would never have picked Jenny Holgerson as a woman who’d arrange a jailbreak. No one would. And if her innocent act had fooled them that way, then could she have committed matricide, too?

  No, he couldn’t see it. Not with the missing kid. It made no sense. Nothing in this case made any sense. He didn’t blame his officer.

  But why would she break her husband out of jail? Had she decided to mete out her own justice? That little snip of a girl?

  He inspected the cell. How had she gotten through the lock? He didn’t find anything. Not a print, not a speck of dust out of place.

  Unless Rogers had helped her?

  He watched the officer wince as he dabbed sterile water from the first aid kit on the wound at the crown of his head. Denton knew he was being paranoid. There’d be an answer to it, but he wouldn’t find it in his officer roster.

  He sent Rogers out to canvas for a witness. He returned quickly. Someone had spotted Butch Holgerson driving his semi out of the city lot. Not only had Jenny broken him out, but she’d brought the man his truck. That should be easy to track. He didn’t think they’d stick with it long for that reason. But he called in a bulletin for the state patrol and neighboring counties before he headed for his cruiser, just in case.

  He lit up the lights and let the siren scream all the way out to the Sanders place. The safety of the other infants was the important thing. If they’d left them behind unattended….

  Jenny answered the door when he knocked. He hadn’t expected that. A dark, exotic woman stood behind her. He recognized her as the fortune-teller who had a regular gig at the magic shop.

  Neither of them protested when he read Jenny her rights and put the handcuffs on her. When he led her away, she just called back over her shoulder, “Thanks, Cin, for everything. I’ll hang on tight to what you told me about the eight of cups until I’ve got my baby back…”

  With the girl secured and locked into the cruiser, he searched the apartment looking for Holgerson, but it was clear he wasn’t there, and both of the infants were accounted for. He tried the door into the main house, but it was locked from the other side. He wasn’t getting in there without a warrant.

  At least she hadn’t abandoned her kids. But with Jenny accounted for, and Butch nowhere to be found, he didn’t know if he had an escapee or another missing person on his hands.

  He quickly interviewed the other woman, Cinnamon Brown, who said she’d only arrived an hour before. She knew nothing about what Jenny had done prior to that. He put in a call to the shop in Salem where she said she’d been doing readings that afternoon and the timing checked out.

  Had Jenny disposed of Butch that fast? Or had she just broken him out so he could disappear, and she hoped that being a young mother would get her probation instead of jail?

  Whatever had happened that afternoon, it sure didn’t smell right.

  ***

  Gillian chopped the walnuts fine as she called over her shoulder, “What do you say to a nice red wine after dinner tonight? Pick a couple. I’m in the mood to find my mellow.”

  Robert’s good-natured reply came from somewhere behind her as he moved toward the hall, “At your command, dearest.”

  She considered ignoring the phone when it rang, but when she saw that it was Cinnamon Brown, she didn’t think she should. She was curious to know how it had gone with Jenny that day. She knew that Cinnamon was the absolute perfect pick for the job. There wasn’t anything about the woman that would remind Jenny of her mother, and she was sure Cinnamon would have just the right touch—caring, but not likely to be overwhelmed by her sympathy for the girl’s situation as Gillian herself might be.

  “Hello Cin,” she said. “How did things go with our student?”

  “She’s been arrested. Denton’s just left.”

  “What?”

  “He put her in a squad car and took her to jail. She’s given you temporary guardianship of her daughters. We printed a form off the internet after her reading. You’ll need to come and get them now. I didn’t sign on for childcare.”

  “Right you are. I’ll be there in a tick,” she got out before her shock shut her down for what felt like a very long time. When she was able to think clearly again, she asked, “Why?”

  “Something about breaking her husband out of jail. Not unanticipated. The false imprisonment, I mean. It was in the cards.

  The aspect just coming to be.”

  Gillian’s shock took hold of her again, then she forced out, “Is she okay? She’s so fragile.”

  “I think she’ll be fine. She’s had some good news about the child that she can hang onto. You know my cards don’t lie.”

  “You’re right. They don�
��t….” As she hung up, she whispered to herself, “…and please don’t let this be the first time.”

  She dialed Cassie quickly. “Are you at home?”

  “I’m on Lake Street. I stopped in to the diner to visit Tom. I’ll be home in a couple of minutes. Why?”

  “You need to get to the apartment. Denton hauled Jenny off to jail. Can you and Tom watch the girls tonight?”

  “What? That was Jenny in the backseat of the cruiser when he passed us going into town?” She was silent for moment. “I mean, of course we can watch the girls. But why would Denton do that?”

  “Same thing I asked. I don’t know. But I certainly mean to find out.” She hit end and turned to the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway.

  Robert appeared in the doorway, a smile and two bottles of red wine at the ready.

  His smile faded when he saw the expression on his partner’s face and she said, “Are you aware that your police chief has gone completely ‘round the bend?”

  ***

  Sunset was rapidly become twilight when the two men emerged in the clearing, taking out the flashlights they hadn’t needed when they’d entered the woods.

  “Over here, Doc,” William called. “There’s a good impression. Probably not going to get anything better. We’re lucky the rain hasn’t started yet.”

  Doctor Don moved to the spot quickly, his face finally lightening from the frown he’d been wearing during the hike through the woods. William hoped it was with interest, not just because the doc was happy they’d soon be able to get out of here.

  Don peered down at the print. “Let’s get a cast of that. I want to compare it to the casts I’ve got of Maureen’s wounds. Can’t tell a lot in this light. Wouldn’t you know it had to happen on the rare day when I was actually too busy to just drop everything and go.”

  “Do you think it’ll be a match? ‘Cause gosh, after all of the pain this community has experienced, to have the killer be a wild animal…” He poured water into an old Tupperware container filled with plaster of paris and shook it up. “I’ve only got two of these, so this set is what we’re going to get.”

  “I think it’ll be fine,” Don replied as he watched him pour the plaster into the prints. “If those are the claws that caused the damage, a cast will definitely help identify what kind of animal made them. But with the four claws and the shape of it, the only thing it could be is some kind of cat. See how the toes follow the same pattern as a human hand with each ‘finger’ a slightly different length and the second one the most prominent? You don’t see that with a canine like a dog or a wolf. But with paws that big? No cat in these woods should leave a print that size.”

  “Sounds like you know your stuff.”

  “My father liked to hunt. You pick things up.”

  “You a hunter too?” William asked.

  “No. I don’t even eat meat anymore. Cutting into a steak just doesn’t have the appeal it did before I became a coroner. But if it turns out this cat killed Maureen Oliver, I’d be happy to have one of my dad’s old guns in my hand while I track that animal down.”

  ***

  Robert had talked to Denton at length while Gillian hovered around him like a dainty buzzard, and the chief had been adamant that the witness to Jenny’s involvement in the jailbreak—Officer Ben Rogers—was as reliable as the sunrise. The arrest would stand.

  When he got off the phone, he reminded Gillian that the girls were in good hands with the Sanders and that Jenny was safe enough where she was, even if neither of them could wrap their heads around what had happened. Gillian agreed finally that there was nothing more they could do on a Sunday night. He gave silent thanks to the green glass bottle he put in the recycling bin before they headed up to bed; he never could have convinced her on his own.

  He’d just slid his slippers under the edge of the bed, preparing to crawl between the sheets, when the doorbell engaged and didn’t let up. Gillian, already propped up with pillows and a book, didn’t even look up when she said, “One guess who that is.”

  His head bobbed up, then down again, resigned. “I’ll get it. I expect she’s here for me.”

  He pulled a lightweight, dark blue robe on over his crisp, conservatively-striped, cotton pajamas and retrieved his slippers from behind the overhanging bedspread. He considered jimmying the doorbell off the wall in the foyer as he passed it.

  Natalie’s squinting, dark-brown eye peered in through the peephole when he peered out.

  He opened the door wide for her, then sighed deeply. “I could be in bed with a soft, beautiful woman right now, so say what you’ve come to say as quickly as possible.”

  “Pull the video.”

  “Pull what video?” His response was terse, exasperated.

  “The video in the jail. Don’t they all have it now? Do you really think Jenny Holgerson has the gumption to pull off a jailbreak? Either your officer is lying about what happened, or his eyes were.”

  “The council has voted down modernization of the jail every time someone brings the motion forward. If you had the civic pride not to use the meetings for nap time, you’d know that, Nat. There is no video.”

  She raised her pointer finger and it moved toward his chest. He caught it tightly in his right fist before it could go in for the poke, saying, “We may have been friends for a long time, but an assault on the mayor’s person won’t go unremarked. I’d rethink if I were you.”

  She considered his statement, then nodded, and he let go of her hand, which she pulled away and tucked into one of the deep pockets of her black skirt as she said, “He’s way off base on this one, Robert. You know that.”

  “I know that Jenny was identified by a respected member of the Giles police force while helping her husband escape. There’s nothing I can do.”

  “Then stay out of my way while I do my part, and give me access to what Denton knows about this case. William thinks his loyalty is to the force; I can’t get a peep out of him. But it’s clear to me, and it should be to you—magic is being used to disguise what’s happening in this town. The person in that jail was no more Jenny Holgerson than I am. This is a coven matter now.”

  Robert pressed the tips of his fingers together, tapping them gently against his mouth as he considered. Finally, he said, “I assume you have him on speed dial?”

  She tapped William’s number in her contacts before she passed him the phone.

  “William? This is Robert. Yes, I know it’s Natalie’s phone. She’s fine. I just wanted to remind you that Natalie still isn’t a member of the Giles police force. Just in case tries to convince you otherwise.” He snapped the phone shut and handed it back to her as Natalie glared.

  18

  The sun had been up for over an hour when Natalie finally arrived at Junior’s apartment complex. She’d have been there sooner if she hadn’t spent an hour in her ritual space breathing in steam from a heavy duty soothing ritual. The fury she’d woken up in from her run-in with Robert the night before required intervention. She’d been afraid to have breakfast with Marcus because he certainly didn’t deserve to be in the way of her foul mood. She’d said goodbye through the door when he knocked to say he was on the way to school.

  She hadn’t planned to leave her car down the street and walk to where Junior Rangel lived, but when she’d pulled into the complex, the presence of the police cruiser William drove warned her off. There was no point in getting into an argument over her being there.

  She donned a wide-brimmed straw hat and large-framed sunglasses from the eighties. Then, she stepped into the tattered mechanic’s coveralls she kept in the trunk in case she needed to do emergency repairs or impromptu roadside rituals while out and about. She hurried down the street, cloaked in anonymity.

  As she peered out around a walkway column across the weedy lawn of the courtyard, she couldn’t see in to Junior’s apartment because the curtains were closed. Not that it mattered. She felt sure she could make him talk. She knew his secret, after all. It was i
mpossible he hadn’t caught a glimpse of what had caused him that kind of injury.

  She pulled back abruptly to fully hide herself behind the column when the door opened and William appeared on the porch.

  She was in the middle of congratulating herself mentally for her still-sharp reflexes when she was interrupted by William’s voice behind her saying, “Boy, Nat, you’ll have to do a lot better for a disguise than your father’s old coveralls and a straw hat. Like I wouldn’t recognize the love of my life no matter what she was wearing.”

  She turned to face him, ready to give him what-for for sneaking up on her, when he held up a hand, saying, “I’m not going to scold you. Really, I’m not.”

  “Then tell me what he said.”

  “What he said—or more factually, didn’t say—is why I’m not going to scold you. He said he didn’t see his attacker clearly. So there’s nothing to tell he didn’t tell you already. And I won’t give hints about what I found at the scene—you’re not a member of the police force, after all. But I think I’m safe in saying that he’s hiding something.”

  “Is it possible that it was the creature that attacked him? He might not want anyone else going after it if it was.”

  William’s shoulders jerked in a half shrug. “Like I said, you’re not police. I can’t tell you what I know or don’t know. But this is not time for a victim to act coy about what he observed, if that were happening.”

  “No, indeed. So, if a private citizen were to find a way to loosen up Mr. Rangel’s tongue…”

  “I guess it would be that citizen’s civic duty.”

  She stood up straighter and smiled, “In that case, stand aside. I have work to do.”

  ***

  Cassie grabbed Tom by the hand, swinging it back and forth and dancing around him in the kitchen like a little girl.