by Morgana Best
Occasionally, a moment of blind panic struck me. In those times, I wondered what would happen if no one ever found me. I did my best to push those thoughts out of my head, and did my best to stay calm.
There was no Foxtel, only free to air TV, so I spent hours watching various soap operas. At least I could tell the time from the TV, and I would even be able to see the news that night, not that the news would give me any insight, because the police thought that Beckett had died from natural causes.
By the time the early evening news came, Weston had not made an appearance. I didn’t know whether or not that was good. At least he hadn’t moved me yet, and I knew that was a good thing, as it gave the aunts a better chance to find me.
It also seemed as if I would have to eat more sandwiches for dinner. I hoped Weston would eventually replenish them so I wouldn’t starve to death. I sat on the bed and rubbed my forehead. I was going stir crazy being locked in this room. I was somewhat claustrophobic, so I was pleased that the room was sufficiently big not to bring on a panic attack, but I was in a scary situation.
And how would the aunts alert Lucas? They had no way to get in touch with him. Perhaps he would know something was wrong when I didn’t answer the phone he had given me. Relief flooded me at the thought. I was sure Lucas could find me somehow. That thought was immediately followed by another, and I gave myself a mental slap. I didn’t have Cinderella syndrome, so I was going to have to save myself. I couldn’t wait around to be rescued.
I needed to formulate a plan, but anything I could think of involved a weapon, and I didn’t have one.
I was drifting off to sleep watching The Bold and the Beautiful, when I heard a scratching sound in the walls. Could it be a rat? I wasn’t too fond of wild rats or cockroaches, to be honest.
The noise continued along the air shaft, and then one of the grilles flew open. I clutched my stomach. Was this an earthquake? I hadn’t heard of any past earthquakes in Lighthouse Bay, but there was a first time for everything. What if I was buried down here alive? I broke out in a cold sweat.
I continue to stare at the grill, and to my amazement, a cat appeared.
“Hecate?” I said in disbelief.
The black cat squeezed through the opening and landed on the floor. I scarcely had time to process this before she turned into a woman.
“Hecate?” I said again. “Do the aunts know I’m here, at Weston’s farm?”
She nodded. I could have cried with relief. It seemed I would be rescued, after all.
“Did you tell the aunts that Weston had taken me?” I asked her.
She nodded. Apparently, she had spoken to my aunts, but she wasn’t speaking now. “Clothes!” I said as I remembered the pile. I hurried over to them and selected the smallest size of jeans and shirt I could find. “Here you go. Put these on.”
She managed to dress herself quite well, so I could see she was getting some of her human ways back again already.
I wondered what we were going to do. Was she supposed to turn into a cat again and tell the aunts where I was? I asked her, but she looked at me blankly. I turned off the TV so I could think, and that’s when I had an idea.
I walked over to Hecate and took her by the shoulders. “Weston, bad man,” I said, and she nodded. I walked over to the TV and mimed hitting him over the head with it. It was only a small TV. I picked it up, and it was light yet hard enough to do damage.
I pulled the cord out of the wall and wrapped it around the TV, tying it tightly so it would not come loose. “When Weston, the bad man, comes down the ladder, you hit him over the head hard with the TV. Do you understand?”
She nodded, but I wondered if she did understand. There was room behind the ladder to stand upright, and to hold the TV over her head. It also played into my hands that the room was well lit over the bed and TV area, but darker around the ladder section.
I picked up the TV, positioned myself behind the ladder and mimed the whole action again. Hecate continued to nod.
I wondered if my plan was too dangerous. Weston would probably come down the ladder with a gun, so Hecate would have to be quick. I wondered if perhaps I should ask her to turn back into a cat and tell the aunts I was locked in a basement. I had decided to do that when I heard the trapdoor open. There was no time for Hecate to turn back into a cat. I wondered if I should tell her to hide in the bathroom, but there was no time for that.
She had picked up the TV and was standing behind the ladder, so it looked as if we would have to go through with our plan. My blood ran cold.
“Go down near the bathroom so I can see you,” Weston called out. “I have a gun, so don’t try anything funny. I’m bringing you some dinner, so if you try anything, you won’t get any more.”
I hurried down to the bathroom. “I won’t try anything,” I called. “I’m standing by the bathroom door, like you asked me.”
“Stay right there.” I saw Weston’s legs coming down the ladder and then saw a hand holding a gun, which was pointed at me. I was relieved that he was craning his neck to look at me. Over his elbow was a plastic bag, and I thought I could see the outline of a microwave dinner packet in there.
“What’s for dinner?” I asked, trying to get his attention.
“Some sort of curry,” he said.
“It’s not too hot is it?” I said. “I don’t want to seem ungrateful, but I don’t like curry.” I had to do everything I could to keep his attention focused on me.
He had no chance to respond, because Hecate bought the full force of the television straight down on his head. I was shocked that she had so much strength, having been in cat form for so long, but then I suppose she was supple.
The gun flew out of his hand. I hurried over and grabbed it. “Quick, up the ladder, Hecate,” I said.
She went up the ladder in double quick time. I was right on her heels, casting a backward glance at Weston. He didn’t look too good, given that the television had gone right through his head. There was a gash on his forehead, but it wasn’t bleeding too badly.
I bolted the trapdoor down with all its deadbolts. When I looked around, Hecate was gone. “Hecate,” I called, but there was no response.
I wanted to run outside, but I was still holding the gun. I didn’t know anything about guns, and I didn’t want it to go off, so I walked quite slowly, pointing it away from me. I had only reached the living room when all the aunts burst through the door. I put the gun on the ground.
All the aunts ran and embraced me tightly. “Are you all right?” Aunt Agnes said, enveloping me in a tight hug.
“She can’t speak because you’re crushing her,” Maude said. “Give the girl some air.”
“Hecate saved me,” I said. “Did she tell you Weston had taken me away?”
Aunt Agnes released me. “After a fashion. She managed to tell us that Weston had taken you at gunpoint. We figured he had gone to his farm, so we drove straight out here. When we got here, Hecate shifted back into cat form and ran into the house.”
I beckoned to them to follow me into the spare room. “He was keeping me in some sort of basement,” I told them. “We locked him in there.” I pointed to the trapdoor. “I think he’s also using it as a hiding place for people who are working for The Other. I wouldn’t be surprised if Scorpius Everyman hid down there. It has a fridge, a television, and a bathroom. I should say, it had a television, because Hecate knocked him over the head with it.”
“So he’s locked in that basement room now?” Aunt Agnes asked me.
I nodded. “I think he’s injured, too.”
“Good,” all the aunts said in unison. “Serves him right,” Aunt Dorothy said with feeling.
“He admitted he was working for The Other, and he admitted killing Beckett with insulin. He was worried Beckett would tell me something about my parents.”
“Tell you what?” Aunt Maude said.
I shrugged. “I asked him, but he wouldn’t tell me. He said he was going to exchange me for someone.”
“Where’s his dog?” I asked them, suddenly remembering the blue heeler. “He has a particularly vicious dog.”
“We managed to lock the dog in one of the bedrooms,” Aunt Agnes said. “We threw a whole packet of dog food in there with him, so he seemed quite happy about it.”
I couldn’t hear any doors rattling, so I figured the dog was somehow placated.
Hecate walked over to me. “Thanks for saving me, Hecate,” I said.
She pointed to herself and said, “Breena.”
Chapter 22
The following morning, I was sitting in the back garden of Mugwort Manor with my aunts, Linda, and Breena. I would have to get used to calling her that rather than Hecate. It would help if she stayed in human form. The unpleasant boarder was out for the day, on a whale watching tour boat. Hopefully, that would lift his mood.
Linda and Breena were drinking iced lemonade. Linda was sipping hers through a straw, and Breena had poured hers into a saucer and was lapping it. The aunts and I were drinking Witches’ Brew.
“I simply can’t believe it,” Linda said. I had just finished telling her the whole story of my abduction by Weston Maxwell. “And he’s still in the basement?” she asked me.
I nodded. “There are some sandwiches left in the fridge, and plenty of bottles of water. He won’t starve to death, or die of dehydration.”
“When are you going to let him out?” she said.
I shook my head. “I’m not. I’m leaving him to Lucas.” I smiled as I said it. I wouldn’t want to be in Weston’s shoes.
Aunt Agnes offered Linda a chocolate, which she accepted. “Yes, Lucas called us in a panic when he couldn’t get onto Valkyrie,” Aunt Agnes said. “Luckily, Hecate, I mean Breena, had already managed to tell us that Weston had kidnapped Valkyrie.”
“And Agnes was left with the most unpleasant task of breaking the news to Lucas,” Aunt Maude said.
Aunt Agnes shuddered. “He was distressed and angry.”
“I could hear him yelling from where I was standing,” Maude added.
I bit my lip. Lucas had told me not to get myself into any danger, but who would have thought Weston would turn up at the manor with a gun? I was hardly out looking for danger. At least that was my story, and I intended to stick to it.
I selected a dark chocolate-coated Turkish Delight and popped it into my mouth. I followed it with a peppermint crème.
“I can’t wait for Breena to speak more, so we can find out her story,” Linda said.
Aunt Agnes agreed. “Breena is making great progress in her human form.”
Aunt Agnes had her back to Breena, who was bounding into the air, chasing a butterfly across the garden. I stifled a laugh.
“It’s turned chilly all of a sudden,” Aunt Maude said. “And the sky is darkening. It must be a big storm coming in. Just look at those dark clouds!” She stopped speaking and looked behind me.
I turned to see Lucas striding towards our little group.
“You’re back,” I said, smiling at him.
“I am,” he said. “Excuse me, ladies, but I need to speak with Pepper for a few moments. Pepper, walk with me to the beach?”
I grabbed my coat and followed him, but in the rush of excitement at seeing him again, at seeing his twinkling eyes and that smile, I’d accidentally taken one of the aunts’ coats.
“Here,” he said, as we walked. “Take mine.”
I pulled on his coat, delighting at how the material smelt earthy, like him.
“It feels like you were gone forever,” he said, and he smiled at me once more.
“And you weren’t?”
We both laughed. The sea breeze picked up, and I rested my cheek on his shoulder. He felt strong. I didn’t want to talk about where he had been, or the murder that had just been solved; I just wanted to walk with him along the beach and listen to the birds and the waves and the distant rumble of traffic forever. We kissed then, the light dimming all around us, and I knew I was safe.
I saw two people walking along the sand in our direction. I idly wondered why they were walking on the off-leash dog beach without a dog, but then again, Lucas and I were walking there, too, without a dog.
Lucas leant in close and whispered in my ear. “Pepper, act cool. Act as if you are just stopping to make polite conversation with these people. I will arrange a more in-depth meeting later, when it’s safe. They insisted on seeing you right now. I just fetched them back to Australia.” His hand steadied me.
I turned to him, puzzled, and then looked at the man and woman. They were closer now.
I gasped as I recognised them. “Lucas,” I croaked. “My parents!”
Connect with Morgana
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Also by Morgana Best
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Miss Spelled (The Kitchen Witch Book 1)
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When a man is murdered in the cake store, will Amelia be able to cook up a way to solve the crime? Or will her spells prove as bad as her baking?
A Ghost of a Chance (Witch Woods Funeral Home Book 1)
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Sweet Revenge (Cocoa Narel Chocolate Shop Mysteries, Book 1)
NON paranormal cozy mystery
Requires a sense of humour!
Narel Myers was given the ironic name Cocoa Narel by the cruel popular kids in high school, as she was far from elegant and was obsessed with chocolate. The truth of the matter was that her love of eating chocolate had caused her to become excessively overweight. Some years later, a car wreck leads to her undergoing extensive plastic surgery on her face and body. Now that she is medically unable to gain weight, she decides to indulge her love for chocolate by opening a designer chocolate shop.
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* * *