Susan was clearly flushed with delight at this point, judging by the two pink spots on her sharp cheekbones, but then she seemed to remember they weren’t in a cute rom-com, because she straightened and tilted her chin, lifting her glasses to set them atop her head.
I thought she was finally coming to her senses and her haze of lust had cleared and she was finally seeing the horror of Win’s outfit.
But I was wrong.
Rather, she tilted her chin toward her shoulder and smoldered at him with her eyes. “So what brings you to my tiny little shop, Crispin? I already told you what I knew about your friend when we spoke on the phone.”
I blew out a breath. “Are her eyeballs out of order, for heaven’s sake? Is she not seeing what the rest of us are? Is a British accent all it takes to woo the pants off everyone, male or female?”
Arkady, who’d mostly sat quiet the entire ride to Seattle, laughed out loud, startling some of the people shuffling about Plane Limbo.
“I tell you Zero is very good at job, didn’t Arkady Bagrov? It does not matter what he wear or even if he wear with butt-ugly purse. It does not matter if he is on fire. He always gets girl.”
I heard the roar of the green-eyed monster call me, but I refused to give in, with the reminder that Win had trained all his life for moments like this and it meant nothing.
Right?
Win ignored us both and focused solely on Susan, who I now was able to see was a sprite of a girl with a cute plaid skirt and a long-sleeve, cropped, square-necked top in cherry red.
“As I told you, that dear friend we spoke of on the phone was supposed to meet me here for a bit of coffee after her shopping, but I wouldn’t be a very good friend if I didn’t make certain we’re speaking of the same woman, would I?” He reached for the phone and scrolled though some of my selfies, holding up the screen and showing her the one I’d taken by the water only last week.
Susan peered at the photo to assure Win knew she was at least making the effort, then she nodded her head. “That’s definitely the same woman. Like I said, her outfit was adorable. Except for maybe those boots. I’m still undecided about them.”
“It’s called fashion, Susan, look it up!” I barked.
The corners of Win’s lips titled upward, but that was the only sign he’d heard me. “And you’re sure she was only in here a moment before she was gone?”
Susan nodded, her licking her raspberry-stained lips. “Uh-huh. I really thought she’d mistaken this store for someone else’s. It happens sometimes. People wander in, realize it’s an upscale second-hand store, and wander back out. No big deal. That’s what I thought happened with her.”
Win leaned against one of the tables filled with vintage jeans, his right leg trembling ever so slightly. “Was anyone else in the store with you at the time?”
“No, it’s just me today. My partner Dorinda’s off for the day, and the store was empty when your friend came in.”
“Was there any ruckus outside at all that you’re aware of? Did you see any commotion or hear anything unusual?”
As Win chatted with Susan, I happened to notice movement back by the slatted doors of the dressing rooms. I was certain someone was in one of them, but I needed Win to walk farther toward the specific area. Man, it was frustrating to only see his immediate surroundings.
But I knew someone was in the dressing rooms. “Ask her if there’s anyone in the store now, Win.”
He looked a bit perplexed, but he asked per my request, and she assured him she’d been alone a good part of the day.
But I nudged Arkady and pointed toward the two dressing rooms. “Do you see what I see?”
Arkady frowned. “I see nothing, petal. What should I see?”
I blinked, unsure if I was seeing what I thought I was seeing—but there it was again. There was a head, a head with shiny chestnut-brown hair, moving back and forth behind the door of the dressing room.
“Win, go to the dressing rooms. There’s someone in there!”
He stuck his hand out to Susan and gave her his best devilish grin. “Well, Susan, I thank you for your time. I know it’s valuable, and I’ve taken up enough of it. Maybe I’ll just take a quick peek around to see if I can find anything to bring back home to my mother before I continue my search for my friend, eh?”
“What a lovely idea. Please let me know if I can help you find something she might like. I love the idea that something from my store might find a home all the way across the pond.”
Win bounced his head while making his way toward the dressing room, him limp becoming more pronounced.
Plain as day, the dark head continued to move, almost as if the person behind the door was pacing. My hands grew clammy and my pulse raced.
“Whoever it is, they’re right in front of you!” I yelled. “Are you not seeing what I’m seeing, Win?”
But he frowned and gave a slight shake to his head without saying a word, so as not to alert Susan.
“Open the door to the dressing room on the right, Win! Whoever’s in that dressing room is so close, they could bite your face off!”
Was I going crazy?
Win popped the door open, letting it go wide, his face blank—but I gasped in horror.
“Dove?”
I know my eyes were wide in horror, but I couldn’t believe what was right in front of me. “See? Do you see her?”
Again, Win shook his head and frowned.
My fist went to my mouth to keep from screaming. “Okay, you two. Is this a joke? What is going on?”
The concern in Arkady’s eyes as he latched onto my arms was vivid. “What? What do you see, malutka? Tell Arkady so he can help you!”
I swallowed hard, my throat dry, my heart slamming against the inside of my chest as I tried to understand what was happening.
Because right there in the doorway of the dressing room, as the bizarrely appropriate tune of “Don’t Fear The Reaper” played in the background, stood a woman, stock still, her stare dull and lifeless…and the place where her heart should be, an empty, black hole.
Chapter 8
Her mouth moved while I gaped at her, and as I made an attempt to absorb what I was seeing, I saw Win’s brow furrow even deeper, concerning me further.
Pressing his fingers to his ear, he asked, “Can you hear that, Dove?”
I pulled my hand from my mouth and cocked my head. I couldn’t hear anything but the rush of that lovely waterfall. “Hear what? I can’t hear anything. I can only see…”
“What are you seeing, Stephania? Describe it to me,” he all but barked in a terse tone.
I blew out a breath and sucked it back in before I said, “It’s a woman, maybe forty or so. She’s wearing a pair of riding pants—you know, like the ones you wear when you horseback ride—and one of those hats jockeys wear is in her hands. She has gorgeous dark brown hair with beautiful chestnut highlights and…”
“And?” he prompted, narrowing his eyes to look into the dressing room.
I managed to gather my wits enough to spew the final, most horrifying fact the way Win had taught me—rationally and without screaming. “And a big hole in her chest where her heart should be.”
“Hold that thought,” Win ordered in a serious tone, jabbing a finger into the air.
As I watched her mouth move, as her eyes pleaded with me, I couldn’t quite make out what she was saying, and before I could process more of what I was seeing, she instantly evaporated.
Evaporated as if she’d never been there.
And then Win was thanking Susan and exiting the store, moving far faster than I’m sure his body liked. He pushed the door open with a grimace and stepped outside into the gloomy day. His face, normally leaning toward the ruddier side of the color wheel, was completely pale.
I couldn’t hold my thoughts any longer before my impatience got the better of me. “What’s happening, Win?”
He inhaled, his wide chest expanding and deflating with what looked like great effort because
it made the stuffed ornaments on the sweater jiggle.
My heart picked up the pace again. I had no way to help him or get help for him if he collapsed, and that was sending me into a panic I couldn’t hide.
But Belfry could. Chances were, he was still sound asleep in the pocket of Win’s purse (honestly, he could sleep through Armageddon), but I needed him alert if Win needed help.
“Belfry? Wake up! Naptime’s over!”
Win leaned forward and bent his knees ever so slightly, clearly trying to catch his breath.
“Win, you’re scaring me! Tell me what’s going on!”
When he finally spoke, he didn’t even bother to put his fingers on the earpiece. Thankfully, the street was mostly deserted but for a lone man way down the other end of the sidewalk.
When he stood up straight, he looked haggard, the sharp planes of his face tight with tension, but he patted the purse, making the gold zippers jangle. “Let Belfry sleep. Just listen. Someone spoke to me in there, Stephania. I haven’t heard much of anything specific since I inhabited Balthazar’s body, only some distant, indistinct voices and, of course, for whatever mystical reason, I can still hear Arkady, for which I’m eternally grateful. But this is the first time since I came back that I’ve heard a voice so loud and clear.”
I hissed a breath inward, my pulse rapidly picking up speed. “What did you hear?”
“She, and I use that pronoun only as a mere guess, said, and I quote, ‘My chest hurts.’ In fact, she said it several times. Then she said, ‘You have to help her. I’ll show you.’ And then the voice was gone.”
My eyes went wide as I gripped Arkady’s arm for support. “You don’t think…”
Win gave a curt nod. “That we’re talking about the same entity? I most assuredly do, Stephania. She said her chest hurt and you described a hole where her heart should be.”
I don’t know when I’d moved back off the bench, I only know, I needed to be backside down on it because my knees were so wobbly, I felt like I might pass out.
My mind whirred as I parsed this information. “So do you think I’m seeing ghosts and you’re hearing them? Seriously? What kind of madness did I conjure up?”
Leaning back against the worn brick façade of the building, Win gripped his cane. “I don’t think it’s a stretch to believe this is one of your failed spells come to fruition, Dove. That I can still hear ghosts, even after leaving the afterlife, is a true mystery. We don’t know why you heard me or, for that matter, Arkady. We’ve never had an explanation for the whys and wherefores. But that you’re now seeing the people I’m hearing? I agree it’s madness, but it’s our madness. We’ve certainly never been conventional.”
I relaxed just a little and giggled. “You have a point.” Then I sobered. “But let’s put all the disbelief aside for the moment. First, these ghosts are different than the ones on Plane Limbo, Win.”
“I’d agree they certainly sound different.”
“That’s because the spirits on Plane Limbo know where they are. Most, with only a few exceptions, know they’re in a safe place.”
“But we’ve dealt with a confused spirit before, Stephania. I don’t understand the distinction.”
“Those ghosts had other spirits around to ease their fears. Spirits like you and Arkady. These ghosts, the ones who crop up looking for help, are usually confused and lost with no solace. If they happen to run into another ghost, it’s usually as lost as they are. Their energy is different.”
His lips formed a grim line. “Noted.”
“Good. Keep that in mind always. Now, do you think this ghost really needs our help? I mean, she said we have to help her, right?”
“I don’t think she meant herself, Stephania. But short of looking as though the asylum and I had only recently parted ways, I couldn’t exactly ask, could I?”
Grinning, I crossed my legs and folded my hands in my lap. “You’re worried about how you look now? I’m amused.”
He rolled his gorgeous, sultry blue eyes. “Can we stay on task, Stephania?”
I fought to cover my snort. “Aye-aye, El Capitan. Where were we? Oh, right. You didn’t want to look like you were just shy of the asylum. Do carry on,” I teased, because despite my circumstances, this was darn well funny. Like, a laugh riot. Me having to listen to him complain about how hard it was to listen to a voice in your ear while you were trying to think.
Hah!
Just then, Gooch, who I’d forgotten all about, loped across the pavement, his clear-skinned face full of concern as he offered his hand to Win. “Sir… Shoot, um, I mean—”
“Just call me Win, Gooch. Win is fine.”
He stared at my Spy Guy for a moment before his sloe eyes went back to their half-mast position and he tucked his hands into the pockets of his baggy jeans.
“Okay then, Win it is. Can I offer you some help back to the car? You look really tired.”
I jabbed a finger in the air. “See, even Gooch thinks you look wiped out. You need to go home, Win. Go home and rest before Nurse Gloria realizes you’re gone and she sends out her henchmen.”
He chuckled, but he looked to Gooch, who genuinely looked worried. “I’m right as rain, Gooch. But give me just a moment, will you? Let me finish this phone call I’m on. It’s important.”
Gooch nodded and headed back to his car while Win touched his ear again. “So the real question is, do we think this ghost showing up and showing herself to you has to do with your disappearance, Dove?”
I threw my hands up in the air because I simply didn’t know. “I’m not sure I see the connection, but what else do we have to go on, Win? We have nothing. Although, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to ask some of the neighboring stores if they saw me or maybe at least saw where my car went. I mean, it’s a whole car. They don’t just disappear into thin air.”
“Says the lady who make iceberg in backyard. How do you know if it was not you who make car disappear, malutka?”
“He has a point,” Win reminded. “And you’re right. I’m going to ask some of the neighboring stores if they saw anything. Until then, did you see where this ghost went, Stephania?”
I shrugged my shoulders with a shake of my head. “She just disappeared. She must be stuck between this world and the afterlife. Clearly she’s in some kind of distress, if she was reaching out to you.”
“All right then, let me give Gooch the head’s up and then I’ll begin asking around. There are two stores on this side of the road and three across the way. Surely someone saw something.”
As Win began to head toward the car, which was only a few feet away, he faltered, his cashmere slippers catching on the rough concrete, and almost tripped over the crack in the sidewalk.
“Win!”
But he managed to catch himself and hold up a hand. “I’m fine, Dove. Everything’s fine. Now onward, yes? The day only grows shorter.”
Honestly, I was going to have a heart attack before this was all over. Wait. Could I actually have a heart attack up here on Plane Limbo when my soul wasn’t attached to my body?
Shaking off those thoughts, thoughts too complex for me to consider right now, along with the reasons I was seeing ghosts, I decided there was no stopping Win.
I’d just have to go along for this ride he was on.
But I didn’t have to like it.
Two hours later—mostly because Mr. Charisma wasn’t simply asking questions, he was making new friends left and right—Win had spoken to all of the shop owners. That included a tattoo shop proprietor by the name of Peanut who was anything but peanut-sized and covered from head to toe in tattoos. It made me fondly remember our friends Trixie and Coop, now running their own tattoo shop in Portland’s Cobbler Cove.
If I made it back down to the earthly plane, I was going to make it a point to take Win to see them. They were doing so well and so was their shop, and nothing pleased me more.
As Win gave one last friendly slap on the back to Peanut, promising to pay him another visit for a cons
ultation on a tattoo when he wasn’t in such a bind for time, he limped his way back out to the sidewalk to head to the last remaining store—an antique place called Granny’s.
But he looked paler and more exhausted by the minute.
“After this, you rest, Win,” I ordered, growing more worried by the second at how positively faint he looked. “You have to rest and have something to eat. When was the last time you had food?”
His sigh was ragged. “Breakfast. It was that horrible porridge Nurse Gloria calls good for my cholesterol. I can assure you, it’s certainly not eggs Benedict.”
I laughed. “I’ll bet. Either way, this is the last store of the day. After this, we go home, and on the way, we grab you a burger.”
This time when he sighed, he let his shoulders sag much the way a child would when displeased with the reminder it was time for bed.
“I will not eat a gray piece of meat on two buns. It’s abhorrent.”
“Blah, blah, blah. Last time I checked, they didn’t have a fine-dining fast food joint that serves foie gras on toast points at the drive-thru. Not even in Seattle. So too stinkin’ bad. You’ll eat it and like it because your body needs fuel. Got that? And if you don’t do as you’re told, I’ll instruct Belfry to introduce himself to Gooch while he shows him where the nearest McDonald’s is. How do ya like them apples?”
Win’s lips thinned as he adjusted his kooky hat. “You’re a true horror, Stephania.”
I laughed again, and this time Arkady, who’d dozed off, laughed with me. “I’m your worst nightmare. Now get inside, see what you can see, and get out so Gooch can get you a Quarter Pounder.”
He placed his hand on the unusual wood door to Granny’s and sucked his cheeks in. “Really, Stephania, who names a hamburger Quarter Pounder? For bloody sake, it doesn’t even sound appealing.”
“The guy who’s richer than you’ll ever be because he sold a piece of gray meat on two buns. Now scoot!”
Pushing the door open, Win stepped inside, making the chimes over the door ring with a melodic sound. The daylight was fading fast, giving the interior of the store a cozy atmosphere—it made me feel as though I could curl up with a cup of coffee in one of the wingback chairs tucked off in the corner.
Witches Get Stitches Page 8