by N. M. Howell
“I'm sure he's absolutely fine,” Jane said. “Besides, from what we found online, I doubt they'd take him without you.”
I froze in place and stared at her. “Really?”
“That's really not helping, dear,” Mrs. Brody chided. She was watching me pace around with an amused look on her face as if she were watching a strange new animal at the zoo or something. In situations like this, it was made clear that she obviously never had kids. Drama didn't sit well with her, and I kept an eye on her in case she felt the need to cast some sort of spell in my direction. She tended to do things like that when times got heated.
Once, she grew an orange on Rory's nose because her sneezing was distracting her from the New York Times crossword puzzle she was working on. It apparently took the girls the better part of the afternoon to figure out how to get rid of the thing.
I continued to pace. “Why isn't he answering his phone?”
The call went to voicemail again. “Answer your damned phone!” I shouted after his voicemail message sounded.
I then hung up and dialed again.
After a few moments, Bailey came and grabbed my phone from me. “Calling him again isn't going to help any.”
I sat down in a nearby chair and buried my face in my hands. I felt defeated. There was nothing worse than not being in control of a bad situation. I was restless and couldn't sit still.
“I need to go find him!” I finally said as I looked pleadingly up at Mrs. Brody across the room. “Please.”
Mrs. Brody looked to the ghosts who both wore concerned expressions on their faces, then back to me. She nodded. “Okay. Let's go.”
I immediately jumped up out of my chair and grabbed my bag.
Mrs. Brody held up her hand to slow me down. “But we all go together.”
“Fine,” I said. “Good. Stick together, find Jordan. Yes.”
My mind was racing a mile a minute, and I could barely maintain my composure. We needed to get to him fast before the killer did.
“Jane is right,” Rory said as we all grabbed our coats and made our way to the door. “I doubt anything will happen to him. Every missing persons article reports they all disappeared together as a couple. He's alone, and you're here. I think that means he should be fine.”
I nodded. Her logic made sense. “I hope you're right. I don't want to take a chance, though.”
“I know,” Bailey said. “Let's go.” She led the way out the door and Mrs. Brody locked it behind us. We were quite the sight to see, a parade of witches marching down the driveway; some in Christmas attire, others in pajamas. Thankfully we had large enough hedges and a wide enough property to protect ourselves from onlookers on neighboring properties.
It was dark outside and a light snow fell from the sky. It was quiet, which normally made me a bit uneasy, having grown used to the city noise. However, the quietness eased my worries as I knew I would be able to hear anyone coming if we found ourselves suddenly under attack from whoever it was that killed Sarah and Peter.
Despite the quiet, I was on full alert as I led the group down the driveway with determined force.
We got to the end of the driveway, and I paused.
“Wait!” I held my hand out to stop everyone behind me. “We can’t walk there, it’s too far. He lives just outside of town. It would take us too long to get there by foot!”
Rory rolled her eyes. At least, it looked like she did through the darkness.
“Why don’t we take my car?” Rory offered.
I furrowed my eyebrows at her, and then proceeded to count the numbers of our group out loud. Six. There were six of us.
“We won’t be able to fit,” I said.
I heard Jane laugh from behind Mrs. Brody. “You do know we’re all witches, right?”
“Speak for yourself, dear,” Mrs. Pots said in her kind, high-pitched voice. “Some of us are limited to magic in the kitchen, I’m afraid.”
That woman always knew how to make light of any situation. I was glad she was with us.
I wouldn’t be so glad if something happened, though. If I was going to be responsible for anyone getting hurt, I would never forgive myself.
I pushed that thought from my mind and focused on the matter at hand. We had to get to Jordan’s house. We would be safe so long as we all stayed together as a group. At least, that’s what I told myself.
Rory had a very small car, but she seemed confident in her offer. We all walked back down the driveway, and she unlocked her car for us.
“You sure this will work?” I asked, skeptical of what she thought we could manage.
“I’m sure,” she answered from beyond the rolled-down window. “Get in, you witches.”
Mrs. Pots climbed in the front seat, which left Rory, Bailey, Mrs. Brody, and myself to the back.
Her car was one of those really sporty small things, and the back seat really only fit two people comfortably. The middle seat was a small uncomfortable little lumpy thing that could maybe accommodate a small child on a good day.
Despite the setback, though, the other girls and Mrs. Brody climbed in through the back doors without worry. I reluctantly followed their lead and was amazed when I was met with a spacious area that accommodated all four of us in the back.
“How is this possible?” I asked. I gazed around the back seat of the car in wonder as I buckled my seat belt. We all sat comfortably next to each other, each with our own seat and seat belt with space to spare.
“The wonders of witchcraft,” Mrs. Brody sang from the other side of the car. “No need to worry about it, dear. Just sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.”
I laughed and sank back into the seat. Sometimes I loved being a witch.
“Alright, Rory,” Mrs. Brody said. “Hit it.”
Rory pressed the button on the CD player, and we were met by more blaring Christmas music as she pulled out of the driveway and down the street towards Jordan’s neighborhood.
Not five minutes had passed before we arrived at Jordan’s place. He lived in a moderately-sized duplex at the edge of town, with a nice yard and an apple tree in the front. It wasn’t really the sort of place I would expect someone like him to rent, but he seemed to enjoy it. He had a massive television and a comfy bed, so I definitely enjoyed it, too.
The lights were off, and I couldn’t help but notice how eerily quiet it was as we approached the house.
I thought our place was quiet, but the constant crashing of the waves in the background provided a constant backdrop to the silence that I never really appreciated before.
This was quieter than any place had a right to be.
“Come on,” I whispered. My voice carried louder than I had intended it to, and I looked around cautiously to see if anyone else could have heard.
The lights in all the houses were out, and we seemed to be the only ones outside. It was nearly midnight, after all. The kids and families would be all cozied up in bed waiting for Santa Clause to come bring them presents in the morning.
I, on the other hand, was waiting for a murderer to come and bring me death. Oh, how I wished I was a kid again.
I tiptoed up the steps to Jordan’s front door and peered through the small window. There didn’t seem to be anyone inside, but it was hard to see through the darkness.
“I’ll try calling him again,” I whispered to Bailey as she joined me near the front window.
I dialed his number again, and it went straight to voicemail. This time it didn’t even ring.
I swore under my breath as I put my phone back in my pocket.
Bailey raised her eyebrows at me.
“His phone is off,” I whispered to her.
I tried opening the front door but it was locked. I then knocked quietly and waited. No response. Finally, I rang his doorbell. I froze in place as I heard the faint echo of the ringing inside, but still no response.
“I don’t think he’s home,” Bailey whispered to me.
I glanced back to the car where the rest of t
he group stood, waiting. I motioned to the side of his house and headed down the narrow path to the back door.
Jane came to join us, but Rory stayed behind with Mrs. Brody and Mrs. Pots. She had her phone out with 911 on speed dial in case anything happened. I really hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but with my luck, who knew what would happen.
We reached the back door, and I tried the door knob. It was also locked.
“Damn,” I said. “Everything is locked.”
“Can’t you just use your key?” Bailey asked.
I looked up at her with a confused expression. “I don’t have a key.”
Jane cocked her eyebrow. “Really? He hadn’t given you a key, yet?”
“No, of course not,” I snapped. “We’ve only been dating less than a few months. Why would I have a key?”
Jane shrugged and Bailey snickered.
I did my best not to feel self-conscious about the fact that I didn’t have my own copy of his house keys, but by the amused expressions on their faces, I couldn’t help but feel a little bit hurt. Should he have given me a key already?
I glared at them both then turned my attention back to the door.
“How’re we going to get in?” I tried the doorknob again and gave the door a good strong shove.
“Well, definitely not by pushing it,” Bailey snorted.
“What about the window?” Jane motioned towards the set of tall narrow windows above the back garden.
I walked over to try and open them, but they were also locked.
I raised my hands in surrender back to the girls, but Jane pointed up towards the windows high above me. “What about those ones?”
I looked up and shook my head. “No way. How do you expect me to get up there?”
“Very carefully,” Bailey said.
Both girls came to join me near the back window. Jane got down on her hands and knees to form a sort of table for me to step on.
“You can’t be serious?” I whispered to her.
She looked back up at me and shrugged a shoulder. “We can just go home then, I guess.”
“Oh, shut up,” I snapped. I grabbed Bailey’s outstretched hand and carefully stepped up onto Jane’s back with my soggy winter boots.
It took a moment to stabilize myself, but I could just reach the upper window.
To my relief, it slid open when I pushed on it.
“Success!” I smiled down at Bailey who gave me a thumb up with her free hand. “Now what?”
“You climb,” Jane said from below. “And hurry, please. You’re getting me all gross and muddy.”
I stared wide-eyed at the window above me. There was no way I was going to make it up there.
“Hurry,” Jane grunted.
I sighed and reached up to grab the bottom of the open window frame. It was either that or not know if Jordan was okay, so I figured I had no choice but to climb the damn wall.
I counted down from three in my mind, then clumsily tried to pull myself up through the window.
My first two attempts failed, and I hung down the wall like a limp piece of spaghetti.
The third time was successful, though, and I managed to climb up onto Jane and Bailey’s shoulders for leverage. I very clumsily pulled myself through the window opening and crashed hard onto the floor in Jordan’s back office.
I froze in place after the loud crashing noise I made. I was suddenly very aware that I was alone in a dark house that we suspected may be the site of a kidnapping. Or worse.
When I didn’t hear anything around me, I slowly pushed myself up and poked my head out the window.
“You guys coming up, or what?” I smirked down at them. It was their turn to make fools of themselves.
“Nah, just let us in the door. We’ll meet you around front.”
I groaned. Of course, that made sense.
“Fine,” I said down to them as they left the backyard to join the others at the front door.
I carefully closed the window and locked it with the little metal latch on the window sill. No murderer was going to climb his way into the house if I had anything to do with it.
When I was sure all the windows were locked, I took out my phone and turned on the flashlight so I could better see. I didn’t want to turn the lights on in the house in case the murderer was watching from outside.
My skin crawled as I made my way to the stairs with the thought that the murderer could actually be in the house, too. I seriously doubted he would be, but the thought was still there.
“Jordan,” I whispered loudly down the hallway. I peeked into his bedroom as I walked by, but there was no one there. All the rooms were empty, in fact. Where could he have gone? My heart was beating faster as I realized we weren’t going to find him at home, after all.
I slowly made my way down the stairs, wielding my lit-up phone as a weapon. It wouldn’t do much damaged, but it made me feel better none-the-less.
I reached the main floor and unlocked the front door and let the rest of the party in.
Bailey switched on the front light as she walked in, and I was blinded by the sudden brightness.
“Hey, what are you doing?” I shrieked. “Turn it off.”
Bailey rolled her eyes. “We need light to see, dummy. Besides, we’ll be safer with the lights on. I doubt anyone will attack us in full light.”
I sighed. Again, she was right. My mind must have been overly stressed, and I wasn’t thinking straight.
When my eyes finally adjusted and my heart beat slowed down enough to breathe properly, we set about looking through the house for clues as to Jordan’s whereabouts.
8
It didn’t take us long to find what we were looking for.
The house was on a concrete slab foundation, so there was no creepy basement to search through, fortunately.
Not so fortunately, though, was that we found the item that I had so desperately hoped we wouldn’t.
Folded on a small shelf near the kitchen table was an invitation. Or part of one, at least.
My hands shook as I picked it up, and my heart nearly stopped beating when I read what it said.
The invitation was for a gala dedicated to retired members of the police force, and the date of the event was Christmas day. Tomorrow.
I tried to say something out loud to let the others know what I had found, but my throat had gone dry, and I choked on my words.
My voice wheezed, and I began hyperventilating. I collapsed to the ground breathing so heavily that I couldn’t get any words out.
Bailey and Mrs. Brody came running over to me to see what had happened, and Bailey snatched the invitation from my hand.
“You’re invited to…” she read out loud. She turned the invitation over and gasped.
Mrs. Brody then took the piece of paper from Bailey’s hands and read it through quietly to herself. “Oh, dear me,” she whispered.
I immediately pulled my phone from my pocket and began dialing Jordan’s number again. It kept going straight to his voicemail, but still I called. I knew the phone was off, of more likely the battery had died - probably because he was lying dead somewhere, alone. Still, though, I dialed. Every time I heard his voicemail message, my mind came up with some other horrific way for him to have been murdered.
I didn’t realize it, but I had begun whimpering. Rory had run over to me and sat next to me on the floor, rubbing her hand in circles on my back.
“It’s okay, River,” she whispered in my ear. “We all know Jordan. There’s no way he would go to something like that. He’s too smart to fall for it. I’m sure he’s just out with some friends.”
I shook my head as I began to sob. Or at least, I tried to sob. No tears were coming out - I was completely dry. The thought of Jordan being gone completely seized me up.
“He wouldn’t go to something lame like that without you, anyway,” Bailey said. She tried her best to sound reassuring, but her voice wavered somewhat. I knew she was just trying to calm me down.
&
nbsp; Jane, being the level-headed proactive person that she was, was already on the phone calling for help. She had dialed Sheriff Reese’s number, but it went to his voicemail. She also tried the mayor, but his phone was turned off. On the second attempt at calling the sheriff, though, he picked up.
“Sheriff, It’s Jane Summers,” I heard Jane say into the phone. She held the phone away from her ear as I assumed the sheriff was giving her a stern word about calling so late on a holiday.
“Yes, I know. It’s an emergency,” she said. “We have reason to believe Jordan O’Riley may have been kidnapped. We’re at his house now, and we need help.”
I barely heard her tell him the address when the tears finally came. Hearing her say the words out loud had finally done it, and I broke down. I wasn’t proud of myself, as I definitely wasn’t the type of person to cry in front of others, but this was all too much. Jordan was gone. I might be next. It was too much for me to handle, and I buried my face in my hands and screamed my frustration into them.
It seemed like forever by the time Sheriff Reese arrived. He had brought two of his officers with him, and neither seemed all too pleased to be there.
“This had better be serious,” he warned us as he stormed into the house.
I rubbed my eyes with my sleeve and joined him and his officers standing around the kitchen table.
His expression softened when he saw my face. It wasn’t a pretty sight, I could be sure of that.
“I’m sorry we called you in on Christmas,” I said. My voice was calmer than I expected, and it gave me a new sense of confidence.
I began explaining the whole situation to him, straining to remember every last detail. To his credit, he didn’t even scoff at me or make a funny expression when I told him about the ghosts. He had never really believed the whole paranormal thing until I came to town in the summer, but he had caught on pretty quickly. His officers, on the other hand, had the expressions on their faces that you give to a child who was making up a ridiculous story. I ignored them.
“You’re lucky you have a key to his place,” he said to me as he looked around the room, analyzing his surroundings.