Witches Get Stitches

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Witches Get Stitches Page 7

by Dakota Cassidy


  In essence, Win was like that hot guy in high school you never thought would pay attention to you, actually paying attention to you, and to top off your wildest dreams, he was super nice to boot.

  And if it were any other time, I’d laugh at how easy it was to get Dana to behave so amicably with Win when it had taken me a couple of fights to the death with a few murderers and a ghostly appearance from his departed girlfriend to get him to even consider talking to me with anything other than his “policeman’s” voice.

  But not today. Today I wasn’t a fan of how easily he’d been wooed. It had been like taking candy from a baby, and I wasn’t swallowing that pill easily.

  Arkady must have sensed my discontent. “Do not be jealous, my Lily of the Valley. Win has done this all his life. He is infamous for the spy with many faces.”

  I gave Arkady my best resting-you-know-what face and shushed him so I could continue to watch fake James Bond spin his web.

  As Gooch opened the door for Win, still silently going above and beyond his Uber duties, my Spy Guy turned to Dana and really poured it on thick.

  “So I imagine all the wonderful eyes of your community saw me here, and a concerned citizen called you to pay a visit to the odd stranger in the even odder clothing, standing in their beloved Stevie Cartwright’s driveway as though he had any right to be here, am I correct, Officer Nelson?”

  Dana smiled in return, all infuriatingly you’re-my-new-bro-like. “They did. Mrs. Hanson happened to be driving back to her house, and she decided to take the scenic route. Her exact words were, ‘That Stevie Cartwright’s car is nowhere to be found in her driveway, and there’s a man with a sweater and shorts that are enough to make my old eyes bleed, standing right there in her driveway, plain as day. She’s a young, pretty woman all alone in that big museum of a house, and I don’t like it, Dana Nelson. I don’t like it one bit!’”

  Win chuckled and grinned a devastatingly handsome grin. “Ah. I do so love a small town, Officer Nelson. Everyone looks out for everyone, yes? Community is everything, innit?”

  Dana chuckled (chuckled! The jerk!) and slapped Win on the back. “It sure is, Crispin. Hey, it was a pleasure to meet you. I hope you get to see Stevie soon. No clue where she is, though. She’s been kind of low on the radar these last couple of weeks, but I’m sure you already know she suffered a devastating loss. I guess it’s to be expected.”

  Win let his face go somber and his eyes sad. “Ah, yes. She lost a dear friend indeed. I wonder, do you suppose her disappearance today has anything to do with her ghost friends? Is she off on a,” he made air quotes with his free hand, “ghostbusters hunt?”

  “Crispin Alistair Winterbottom, I’m going to wring your stupid neck!” I crowed. The audacity of this man!

  Dana chuckled, rich and deep. “So you know about those, do you?”

  Win bobbed his head, his eyes amused. “I do. I do. And I almost believe her. Almost. Certainly we can agree, she can be very convincing.”

  Oh, yes. If we ever were on the same plane again, I was going to knock him out cold.

  Dana’s look became a little far away, but then he nodded, too. Just like the good Win puppet he’d become. “She definitely can be that. Though, I admit, I don’t doubt her as much after a very personal experience of my own.”

  “How brilliant for you, Officer. I’d bet my nan’s Yorkshire pudding it was a good experience?”

  Dana nodded his head, the drops of rain sticking to his slicked-back hair. “It really was.”

  “That’s Stevie for you. Always on your side. That’s one of the reasons I’m here in this absolute farce of a getup—I knew it would make her smile, and surely, after all she’s been through as of late, she deserves a smile.”

  Dana leaned in and asked in conspiratorial fashion, “So what’s the joke?”

  Win simply winked. “I’ll let her tell you, eh? This way I won’t be breaking our friendship code. Anyway, chap, I must be on my way so I can settle into my hotel in Seattle. But I do so hope we’ll have the chance to really get to know one another upon my return. Oh, and,” he nudged Dana, “do keep this little visit a secret, yes? I really want to surprise her. Can’t wait to see the look on her face!”

  “You got it. Hope to see you soon,” Dana said, offering him a hand into the backseat of Gooch’s car. “Take care now.”

  With that, he shut the door and slapped the top of the roof to signal Gooch was all clear.

  As Dana took his leave, Win leaned forward and looked at the very quiet and, I assumed, very confused Gooch and asked, “Question, Gooch?”

  His eyes looked onto the rearview mirror. “Of course, sir.”

  “How would you like to earn some significant cash today, my friend?”

  Chapter 7

  As Gooch sped along the highway toward Seattle, the hiss of rain under the car’s tires, I read Win the riot act. I realize it was partially out of envy for the ease with which he’d sucked Dana into his vortex-of-bro, but sheesh.

  He’d gone on about my “ghost friends” as though but mere weeks ago he hadn’t been a ghost himself.

  “I can’t believe you, buddy! That was some story you spun there, wasn’t it, Mr. Chummy-Chum? And the bit about my ghost friends? Like you weren’t just Mr. See-Through not so long ago? You made me sound just a little like the crazy cat lady sans the cats.”

  Win pressed his fingers to the earpiece and grinned. He’d explained to Gooch that he had a friend on the line, and he’d be having an ongoing conversation. Gooch was to pay him no never mind and simply drive where Win directed.

  “I did that on purpose. We had a commonality, which was you. I used it to my advantage. That’s how this works. You forget what I once did for a living, Dove. Surely you can’t hold my vast experience against me. We’re not in a pickle because of my quick thinking, now are we? What if I hadn’t been as skilled as I am? Why, I fear Dana would have thrown me in the clink just on Mrs. Hansen’s words alone.”

  “But you really put a hard spin on it, didn’t you? All that wink-wink-nudge-nudge nonsense like you don’t hear ghosts and aren’t just as nuts, if not more so than I’ll ever be.”

  Win smirked, raising an eyebrow. “While that’s probably true, that’s called relating to a subject, and I admit, it’s one of my specialties.”

  Plopping down on the bench, I sighed and closed my eyes, rolling my shoulders to ease my tense muscles. “Fine. Whatever.”

  “I sense the green-eyed monster in your tone, Stephania. Dare I say, you’re a bit envious of my budding bromance with Officer Nelson? Who I must confess, is quite dreamy in person.” He chuckled, clearly pleased as punch he’d found an ally in Dana with nary any effort at all on his part.

  Win’s body might not be working, but his charm was squarely intact.

  I narrowed my eyes and huffed, “I’m not envious. But I will say this. I’ve known Dana a long time now and it took me forever to get him to do what he did with you in under a minute.”

  “Jealous it is, then,” he teased, leaning back into the seat.

  “Forget my alleged envy. What’s the plan here, Win? What exactly do you hope to do, and how is Gooch going to help you? You can’t involve an innocent kid in this when we don’t know what this is and if it has something to do with the paranormal. What if you-know-who shows up again? How will you explain that?”

  I said the last bit in a hushed tone. I don’t know why, but whenever I spoke or even thought Adam’s name, I instantly went into stealth mode. Who knew if Plane Limbo had ears?

  Gooch, who still hadn’t spoken a word, and had only nodded his head when Win had offered him an unidentified amount of cash on a no-questions-asked basis as though offers like that came about every day, simply kept right on driving as though this weren’t at all unusual.

  “Fear not, Dove. I would never do that, I promise you. I don’t believe in collateral damage as a whole, unless it’s absolutely necessary, and if it turns out it’s Adam, I’ll handle it, rest assured. For n
ow, Gooch is simply going to be my driver, isn’t that right, chap?”

  He nodded his head again, looking into the backseat via the rearview mirror, his gorgeously fringed, round, dark chocolate eyes vacant of much emotion, or even concern for where he was driving this total stranger.

  In fact, he appeared totally unaffected by any of this.

  Win leaned forward and slapped him on the shoulder good-naturedly. “Good man. I’m simply reassuring my friend of such. She’s such a worrier.” He tapped his ear so Gooch could see he was on the phone.

  “Sounds like a plan,” he muttered, keeping his eyes on the road. “It was a slow day for Uber anyway. Been out since seven this morning and you’re only my second fare.”

  “What exactly is a significant amount of money, Win? Is there really enough money in the spy account for a man-child to risk his life to help you find the body of your ghost friend?”

  But Win only rolled his eyes. “Oh, ye of little faith. Surely you can trust me with our financial health, Dove? It was I who stuffed all that money away like a squirrel hiding nuts for the winter, wasn’t it? With proper investing and dividends, we’ll recoup whatever I give to our new friend and then some in no time. Now watch and learn.” Leaning forward again, he asked Gooch, “Tell me, lad, are you in school? Any student debt? Credit card debt, maybe?”

  “No, sir.” He cleared his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down in his slender neck. “No to all of the above, that is.”

  “How old are you, Gooch?”

  “Twenty-two.”

  “What are your plans for your future?”

  Gooch looked distant, but only for a moment before the serene expression he’d had on his face since he’d arrived at our house returned. “They’re on hold for right now, sir.”

  Win cocked his head, the pom-poms attached by strings to the hat flaps bouncing. “On hold? Why is that?”

  He shrugged his shoulders, encased in a worn denim jacket. “I don’t want to over share, sir. I’m pretty sure Uber would frown on it.”

  “Understood,” Win said with a warm smile, but I didn’t doubt he’d get the story out of him, given time. “Who’s the most important person in your life, Gooch? A girlfriend, perhaps?”

  But Gooch shook his head again, gripping the steering wheel with tight hands.

  “No girlfriend, sir. The most important person in my life would be my mother.”

  Whatever his unwillingness to over share was about, I’d lay bets some of it also had to do with his mother.

  Win smiled again, tucking his cane between his knees, pausing, his eyes scanning the scenery along the highway. “Mothers are everything, aren’t they, Gooch? The salt of the earth.”

  He bobbed his head and, for a moment, his eyes looked a little sad. “Yes, sir. Mine sure is, anyway. Yours?”

  I wasn’t sure what Win was getting at or hoping to gain here, but he, too, got that faraway look in his deep blue eyes. “Mine is long gone now, but never forgotten, good man. Never forgotten.”

  I didn’t know a lot about Win’s adoptive mother, but when he spoke of her, it was always with deep love and respect you heard clearly in his voice.

  “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to bring up painful memories,” Gooch apologized, his youthful voice full of remorse.

  “Bah!” Win flapped a hand and dismissed his comment. “It’s never painful to talk of my mother. She was a grand old gal with the patience of ten saints, and I miss her greatly. I don’t mind talking about her at all. I rather think she’d enjoy hearing me speak so highly of her.”

  They both sat silent for a moment as Gooch looked at his GPS and Win closed his eyes.

  He looked haggard, pale, yet strangely happier than he had in days…since he’d come home from the hospital. Still, both Arkady and I looked at each other with concern.

  “You’re tired, Win. I’m telling you, this isn’t a good idea. I wish you’d give us just a little time to figure this out and find someone to help before you get in over your head.”

  But my concerns went by the wayside when Gooch spotted the exit and pulled off, driving down the same quaint roads I remember driving to get to One More Time.

  He pulled up right in front of the store in all its cuteness, tucked away like a small treasure waiting to be discovered, and looked into the rearview mirror, that same expression of quiet calm on his face.

  “We’re here, sir. You want me to help you out?”

  Win’s eyes popped open as he sat up, the ridiculous feathers of the fur trim on his even more ridiculous sweater shedding all over Gooch’s backseat. “No need, but I would surely like you to stop calling me sir,” he joked as he pulled the door open. “I’m not old enough to be a sir yet. Now, can I count on you to be outside the store upon my return? This trip could turn into an all-day affair. I’d like to know I can rest easy in the knowledge.”

  Gooch looked over the backseat and nodded. “Yes, sir… Um, I mean. Yes. I’ll wait right here. If you need me, just gimme a holler.”

  Win got out of the car, easing his legs out and gripping the door’s handle until he was almost on the sidewalk. “Good man. I shall return momentarily.”

  Arkady snorted. “Maybe while you in store with old, used clothes, you buy some for yourself, eh, Zero?”

  But I shook my head and corrected him. “It’s a women’s-only vintage clothing store, Arkady.”

  “Does that matter, my sunflower? Zero does not seem to care. Besides, I think a pretty dress can fix anything. You say this all the time.”

  Win smiled as he assessed the outside of the store, but he wasn’t biting at Arkady’s bait. He was clearly in spy mode. He peered into the glass door, etched with the name of the store and a sign that had their hours listed.

  “So you say the blonde shopkeeper was who saw you, and also the young woman I spoke with on the phone, yes?”

  “Yep. That’s her, right inside, folding the scarves.” I distinctly remember walking into this store. I don’t understand why I don’t remember anything after that. Taking a peek around the area, I didn’t see my car either, or any evidence at all that I’d even been anywhere near the store. “I don’t see my car anywhere, do you, Win?”

  Win’s eyes gave the street a quick once-over as the people who passed him and his outfit gave him some serious side eye—which he didn’t seem to notice at all.

  But he did press his fingers to the earpiece to keep from looking totally insane when he replied, “I do not. How curious that all remnants of you have been wiped clean.”

  “Well, I’ve given that some thought, and my car was parked in a two-hour parking zone. It wouldn’t surprise me if it’s been impounded by now. It’s been a lot longer than two hours.”

  Wasn’t it just my luck I’d somehow found the one overzealous meter maid? I was making light of this, but it truly disturbed me that I couldn’t remember a single thing after entering that store. Nothing along the street looked familiar, so it wasn’t as though I’d wandered off.

  More than just puzzled, this left me frightened that the spell I’d used had so seamlessly ripped me from the fabric of the earthly plane.

  Looking at the street one last time, Win’s eyes roaming each car parked at the curb, he gave a short nod. “The impound, you say? Fair enough. We’ll check that out once I’m done speaking with the shopkeeper. So, here goes nothing. Wish me luck, eh, Dove?”

  I sighed loud enough for him to hear me—and hear my displeasure. “After your shtick with Dana, I’m betting luck is the last thing you need. What you might need is a new body before the day is through.”

  “Ever supportive,” he muttered as he grabbed the handle of the glass door and pulled.

  “Oh, no, buddy. You don’t get to do that!” I lectured. “I’m just looking out for you and your health, and your health is in jeopardy every minute you’re not resting. If the roles were reversed… Oh, but wait, they have been, haven’t they? And you spent all your time riding me like a thoroughbred for ignoring yo
u, didn’t—”

  “Good afternoon,” Win crooned in his raspy-husky voice, peering at the pretty shopkeeper’s nametag. “Susan, is it?”

  “Yep. That’s me.”

  The cute blonde with the pixie haircut and the very stylish red cat-eye glasses looked up from her task, but before she could really give Win’s outfit a good eyeball, he was on the conversation like flies on stink, never allowing her the time to hesitate or process how he was dressed.

  He held out his hand and smiled that delicious smile. I don’t know how he did it, but he somehow managed to avoid looking like he was fresh out of the asylum.

  As a Fiona Apple song played over the store’s speakers, he approached her, passing the racks of clothing I’d never had the chance to explore, his eyes roving the landscape of the store.

  “I’m Crispin. Lovely to make your acquaintance, Susan.”

  “Oooh! You sound just like the man I spoke to on the phone earlier. You’re British, aren’t you?” she only sort of asked (because let’s face it, she already knew), her bright eyes wide with delight as she let the scarves she’d been folding fall to the counter with a sigh.

  It was only about ten seconds in, but Susan was clearly already a lost cause. If she were as transparent as some of the people on Plane Limbo, I bet you could see her organs melting and her knees becoming weak. That had to be some kind of land speed record for Win.

  Win folded his hands around his cane and leaned on it, the purple purse flopping forward. “I am the man you spoke to on the phone earlier, and I am, indeed, British. However, I do so love your Seattle. Home of the Seahawks and the Space Needle. Wonderful-wonderful.”

  She clapped her hands together and grinned, a grin that was quite lovely if I do say so myself. “Your accent is so dreamy. Just like Mr. Darcy, played by, as I’m sure you know, fellow Brit Colin Firth,” she cooed, giving Win a flirty smile.

  Win tipped an imaginary hat. “I’m gobsmacked, Susan. You’re too kind.”

  “You’d better knock it off, Spy Guy, or you’ll be married by sunset,” I heckled with a giggle, just like he used to heckle me.

 

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