by K K Weakley
Blessing herself, she poured Joe another glass of iced tea and stood up to stretch out her back with a crack. “Lily wanted a divorce, you know.” These words were spoken matter-of-factly. “Exhausted with striving to change the man, I presume.”
“Did she file?” Joe asked. “For divorce?”
“Not that she told me.”
“Did she have a good relationship with her father, do you know?”
“Oh, yes.” Miss Long beamed, taking her seat once again. “When Lily was with him was the only time I ever got to see her smile in earnest, and not the smile put on for the world to see. Keeping people off the scent, I guess. It truly is amazing, what the world chooses to see. All in the eyes, you know.”
“What is?” Joe asked.
“One’s true emotions.”
“What happened the night you called the police?” Joe asked.
“Oh, it wasn’t just one night. I had to call them three times.”
“Anything you can remember about that, Miss Long, would help us a great deal.”
“I’m old, young man, not senile.” At that, she did laugh outright as Joe’s face reddened in a blush he was unable to stop. “Well now, let me see.”
“Take your time.”
“Yes.” Snapping her fingers like a person who just had the brightest of ideas, Miss Long began her story, declaring that she would try her best to leave nothing out. “The first occasion was a Sunday afternoon back in 2010. I was watering my roses – the pink ones, you may have noticed them. Anyway, I looked up to wave as they drove past, but Lily was clearly upset. When they pulled into their driveway, he parked and ran around to her side before she had a chance to get out. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and dragged her backwards into the house. I ran straight into the house here and called for the police.”
“How long did it take them to come?” Joe asked. He would get the report.
“They were very quick to arrive and were very nice young men, like yourself. Now, the time after that was early evening. I had promised her my apple crunch. She loved my apple crunch. Said it tasted like a slice of heaven.” Her eyes glazed over at the memory until finally, she shook it off and turned her attention back on Joe and her story.
“I made my way over there, dish in hand. It was warm, just out of the oven. That’s how she liked it. There was no answer to the front door, so I decided to go around the side. Oh, that horrible little man had her on the floor, punching that beautiful face. I screamed, dropping the bowl, shattering it, and he jumped at the fright I must have given him. I ran as fast as I could back to my own home, with him coming fast behind me.”
“He chased you?” Not being able to hide his shock, Joe’s mouth hung open slightly.
“You’re damned right he did, but I was too fast for him. Considering I have a bad hip, I was very pleased with myself for outrunning that scoundrel.” Sitting straight-backed with a cheeky grin, she winked at him proudly. “Well, I did have a goodly head start. I got in here, locked the door tight, and called the police, all while he stood on my doorstep screaming through my glass paneling.” Shaking her head, she said. “He had problems and took them out on that little wife of his.”
“The last time you called for help, what was it for?” asked Joe. “Do you remember?”
“Of course, I remember. I remember it like it was yesterday. Lily came running across the yard. Howling and bellowing, he was, that she was having an affair and he knew all about it. He called her terrible names. Just terrible.”
“And then?”
“She sat right there, right where you are sitting now, while I called for the police and she called her father. Her parents are divorced, you see. I thought I had convinced her to leave for good, but she didn’t. Lily’s father preferred the city life, which I’m assuming was better for business, while her mother moved back to the small town of Twisp some years ago. She was born here, you know, Lily, that is. Moved away as a teenager, trying to find herself, I’m guessing. As far as I am aware, they did see each other frequently, mother and daughter. That was another thing that angered Frankie. He called Lily’s mother a witch. A lovely woman, she was. Imagine thinking such a thing!”
“Imagine,” Joe said, thinking of Molly and why she might be in Twisp.
“She deserved so much better, poor soul.” Ada Long’s eyes fixed on the framed photo of the Sacred Heart and didn’t shift until Joe’s voice broke the silence.
“You believe he could have killed her?” asked Joe, already knowing the answer and hating the fact that as much as he knew Frankie Davis was guilty, they still had to jump through so many hoops to get the bastard.
“I don’t believe he could have killed her,” Ada Long said. “I know he killed her.”
Leaving with a handful of blueberry scones, Joe went in search of Victor, to find out who the hell Lily Davis’s mother was.
CHAPTER 11
Sekhet
Molly was concentrating on the vibes around her. The air was thick with uneasiness in her grandmother’s kitchen, and when Sarah Sinclair walked through the double doors, whispering to herself in soft tones, Molly thought of Victor.
Sarah had not only mastered the art of casting, but she also had the ability to hear the dead. A gift handed down from her father, who, like Daniel, had been well-known in the paranormal world.
Mortality, it seemed, came at a massive cost, for it had not been enough for Sarah’s father to see and hear the spirit world; he wished to rule in it. A trade made that had left Sarah without a father, and with a mother who couldn’t cope with a daughter who disappeared for years without so much as a phone call. She had been a petite woman, whom Molly only recalled from very early on in her life. Mainly during the yearly gatherings ay Dot’s house.
That was where Molly had come upon Lily, but unlike Molly, Lily hadn’t seemed to want to know anything about that side of her heritage. If she had, she would still be alive and her deadbeat husband would have known not to mess with her. But, of course, at this point, the fact that her husband had murdered her was only speculation to the outside world. For most, her murderer could have been anyone. The supernaturals knew better, and Molly knew Victor was working the case. Not that he told her. And she didn’t blame him, considering how she had reacted to the previous witch-killer she had come across.
She wanted so desperately for Victor to trust her again. Now the only question was, what did Victor know? Molly still hadn’t talked to Victor about any details regarding the case he had yet to crack. In spite of her own feelings on the matter, Molly had a hunch that it was best kept away from the authorities, and contained within the world she belonged to. A world Victor belonged to, too, only at some stage, he might have to choose which one called to him more.
Sarah smiled at Molly warmly. From this close, Molly could see the fine lines that had formed on Sarah’s brow and the new gray hair that glimmered in the sunlight. Her bones protruded faintly from her shoulders and across her chest, while the dark rings under her eyes told the story of a woman who hadn’t slept for some time.
Dangerous brown eyes examined her directly, leaving Molly concentrating on her own thoughts, rummaging through the vast archive of words she needed. Unable to decide if her vocabulary was substantial enough for the circumstances, Molly’s hesitation was enough for Sarah to take it upon herself to begin a much-needed discussion.
In a hushed whisper, Sarah said, “I wanted them to contact you sooner, Molly.”
So that is why she was here? This was about Lily. And hopefully not Sekhet. To hide her fear, Molly snorted, “You mean you wanted me here so you could ask me what you should do and say if Victor gets involved?”
“Bright girl.” Sarah accompanied her reply with a shrug of the shoulders, which Molly assumed was a yes to her question, and she followed as Sarah relocated herself from the kitchen out onto the front porch. “My daughter is dead, Molly.”
“Yes, I know.” For the first time since hearing the news of Lily’s unfortunate demis
e six months earlier, Molly had to force the lump that had formed in her throat back down into the pit of her stomach.
The bare stone slabs along the pathway from the gate to where Molly and Sarah now stood were the morbid gray they had always been. They tugged Molly back into her own awareness and memories of the day she and Lucy had laid them. She had begged her mother to permit her to decorate them in bright colors, like the yellow brick road from the Wizard of Oz.
Her request had been shoved to one side, falling on deaf ears in her mother’s rush to get back to the bar and away from her responsibilities. Another wonderful childhood memory of her loving mother.
“Everything in this house, from the sidewalk to the attic, has a method to the madness.” Sarah’s voice made Molly flinch, resulting in a warm, gently placed hand on her shoulder. “I am glad you are here, Molly.”
“Victor will arrive, Sarah.”
“I know he will. Maybe it will help his progress.”
“That isn’t going to happen, and you know it.”
“Tell me, Molly, do you still call on Sekhet?”
“You want me to summon her?” Shock laced Molly’s words as the thought of Sekhet made her veins run cold. “So that’s why my grandmother didn’t want me to come.”
“I want him to suffer!” Sarah spat the words through quivering lips.
“You have no idea what you are asking for.” Molly was horrified to think this ability of the worst kind would be abused so blatantly.
“She is your link to the Underworld, is she not?” spat Sarah, clearly not seeing the problem.
“I wouldn’t exactly say the Underworld. There is an enormous difference between that and Hell, and you know it. Sekhet will not be manipulated, Sarah.” Her resentment was growing intense, and to top it off, the position she now found herself in was no one’s fault but her own. She was backed into a corner with no way out. Ensnared like a rat in a trap, which seemed to hold the delicious taste of success and a way of benefiting itself, when in truth, all it did was break its spirit and self-control. The truth of the matter was, she was Sekhet’s link to this realm, and everyone was aware of her failure in her dealings with the Hell Demon.
Sarah’s eyebrows almost disappeared into her hairline. “So you are refusing to contact her? Even though one of your own has been slain?”
“Your damn right I’m refusing. And the fact of the matter is, if Lily hadn’t been so hell-bent on ignoring her ability to defend herself using the magic passed down to her from you, she would still be here today. So do not expect me to summon a demon for your purposes, Sarah. You are a powerful witch. I am sure you can think of something that doesn’t need the assistance of Sekhet and her horrible requests.”
Molly’s last words were lost in the hubbub of voices that now surrounded them. Her grandmother scowled, her mother gasped, and the woman who was late for her hair appointment nodded approval in her direction. “Give me time to see what Victor’s standpoint is before you deal with this yourself.”
“Fine. You talk to Victor,” Sarah blurted out as she glanced around.
“What is this? You know he killed her, don’t you?” Molly demanded shifting uncomfortably.
“I don’t know, Molly; that is the problem,” Sarah said. “I can only hear her faintly – she is not clear enough to make out her words. It is so strange. I have never had this happen before.”
“Have you contacted Daniel?” Molly asked, a tightness forming around her mouth as she spoke.
“Yes, and since Victor is investigating the murder, he suggested letting him deal with this side of his life. ‘It will be good for him,’ he said.” Sarah frowned at Molly, but her attention had shifted elsewhere. Her eyes flickered against the strange light. There was neither sunlight nor rain clouds in sight. Following her gaze, Molly was met with a round-faced girl walking toward the house along the gray flagstones. She stopped directly in front of them. Her finger pointed unswervingly at Molly, bent in a summoning position.
“Do you know this girl, Molly?” her grandmother asked in her comforting tone.
“She’s an old friend,” Molly replied dryly, stepping off the porch and walking to the now-smiling Sekhet.
“Well, do come in, dear,” Dot called, arm outstretched in welcome.
“No!” Molly barked, grimacing at her own voice, resulting in her grandmother’s mouth dropping open in surprise. “This won’t take long.”
“I beg to differ. I have to admit,” A distorted shadow flickered across her face. Dark skin and blackened eyes smiled at Molly. All she was missing was her golden locks.
The voices on the porch fell silent.
Sekhet grinned, “I have grown accustomed to this realm.”
“Who are you?” Sarah inquired, taking a step forward.
“You wished for my services, did you not, Sarah Sinclair, mother of Lily Davis?”
“Oh, crap!” Sarah’s sharp intake of breath made Sekhet chuckle that menacing laugh, making the hair on Molly’s arms stand on end.
Her grandmother started to chant, only to have Sekhet glower at her in pure hatred.
“Do you think your powers can work on me, Witch?” Sekhet hissed, stepping away from Molly and toward Dot, who had by now turned an ashy white. “Don’t worry, as you know, I only have dealings with Molly, who I am assuming wants to discuss the small matter of payment.”
“What is she talking about, Molly?” Lucy whispered, not moving her eyes from her daughter. “You promised the Council you no longer dealt in the dark arts.”
“This has nothing to do with black magic, Lucy,” Sekhet answered, “This has to do with Molly’s promise to me.”
“Which is?” Lucy demanded, not caring who Sekhet was.
“None of your business, Mortal.” The once-dark eyes flashed a dangerous red.
“Let’s go.” Hastily, Molly starting walking toward the front gate, leaving Sekhet to follow.
“Molly?” Dot’s voice was tentative and questioning, and somehow, Molly knew there were no more questions to come.
“I like your hair that way, Molly,” came the voice she knew all too well come from behind, and a hand ran along the back of her neck, sending a chill scuttling down the length of Molly’s spine. That was all that was needed. She was worried, and right now, requiring something to show her she was going to be coming back intact.
“Don’t worry, Dottie, we will be back soon,” Sekhet sang out, twisting her head just enough to show her white teeth.
The we in that statement wasn’t what anyone wanted to hear, and Molly craved the relief that shouting at Sarah, who by now stood behind all who remained on the porch, would bring. Her face was taut with anxiety.
This is what you wanted, wasn’t it, you silly woman? Molly thought resentfully as they walked away. Drawing in a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Molly readied herself for a long day.
***
Drumming her fingers on the kitchen table, Lucy shuddered involuntarily at the raised eyebrows Sarah’s action brought. Hearing a snort from behind, Lucy stood and retreated into the entrance of the kitchen, where she disappeared into the darkness of the downstairs washroom, leaving Sarah to wallow in regret for her mistake.
Turning the light on with a swift, muffled click, Lucy positioned herself, bracing herself against the white sink with chrome taps. Eyes closed, she cast. Immersing herself within a bubble of stillness, Lucy suppressed all urge to wipe the senselessness from Sarah’s face. It wouldn’t be an unpleasant experience altogether, but as she thought of a knockback spell that would plant Sarah hard into the nearest wall if she so as much so looked in Sarah’s direction. She had to remember the pain Sarah must be feeling. The fact was, she knew if she were in Sarah’s position, Frankie Davis would already be dead.
Lucy, stalking from the washroom straight to her private altar in the basement, was ready to get to the bottom of what was going on. If at all possible. Again she kicked herself for the lack of communication between herself and Molly.
“Do you need lavender?” Dot asked softly.
“No, Momma, I have dragon’s blood; it works better.”
“Okay, well, as long as you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.” Turning just as Dot threw a pack of matches her way, she couldn’t help but frown. “What has she gotten involved in?”
“Whatever it is, a deal made will be a deal kept. You know this,” replied Dot, taking her daughter’s forearm firmly.
“But what?” wondered Lucy.
“Let’s find out, shall we?”
“You don’t think she will permit me?” Lucy asked pulling away from her mother’s touch.
“It isn’t about whether she will allow it, Lucy. It is whether or not she is capable.”
“How could she be so stupid?” Shouting her annoyance for all to hear now, Lucy continued, “Again!”
***
Night came and went and there still was no word from Molly. Lucy was exasperated. Trying for hours to breach her barrier, with no luck, left her weakened, in addition to being further upset.
Dot, on the other hand, had better luck. A mere ‘get out of my head’ was enough for her, knowing Molly was okay. For the moment. Assuming her silence was a sign to back off, Dot took the hint and relaxed somewhat.
Lucy, however, was back down in the basement at the first flicker of dawn through the curtains, forcing herself not to give up. Mere hope that her daughter would convey a message of her whereabouts in place of complete silence was enough for her to ignore the muttering from upstairs.