Good Witch Hunting

by Dakota Cassidy

  I smiled up at him, injecting as much warmth as I could so he’d know how much his support meant. “Thank you, Arkady. I’m fine. I’m not worried about me. I’m worried about Trixie. But we have some exploring to do now. I hate to say it. No, I dread saying it, but—”

  “Maybe Trixie, in the state she was in this morning, really did off Hank.” Win finished my worst fear for me.

  “That’s what she’s afraid of, too,” Coop said, making her way into the kitchen with a pale, shaken Trixie in tow.

  I jumped up from my chair and rushed to her. “Tell me what I can get for you, Trixie. Coffee? Are you okay? Do you want some water—aspirin?”

  Because surely aspirin would take care of a little ol’ possession, dummy. Gosh, sometimes I said the stupidest things.

  But she shook her head, her eyes still rimmed in red from crying. “So, I owe you guys an explanation. I’m just not sure you’re going to believe me. But I swear on all the years I was a nun, what I’m about to tell you is the truth. Not some made-up horror movie idea.”

  I laughed. I couldn’t help myself. Here we were, a demon, a talking bat, a talking owl, two ghosts, and an ex-witch. I was way past the stage of disbelief. “I’m ready when you are. After what I just witnessed, I’m not above wondering what just happened.”

  We all took seats at the table and as the snow fell, and the night filtered out, leaving a gloomy, very gray dawn in its wake, Trixie explained what had just happened.

  An hour later, I poured more coffee into my cup and shoved a mug in Trixie’s direction, too—she looked like she needed an intravenous drip of caffeine. “So you’re telling me that at the convent, this Father O’Leary—someone you’d known the entire time you lived there, someone you trusted—asked you to retrieve this sacred relic for him, right?”

  Her face went crestfallen. “Yep. I wish the convent had videotape of that, but unfortunately, they only have the bad parts of that night. Father O’Leary, whom I loved and adored and had followed in good faith since I was eighteen years old, when I decided to become a nun, asked me to get that relic, one that had been in the church for centuries. And I did. And then my entire life blew up,” she said, her lower lip trembling.

  I took a long sip of my coffee. “And you think he was possessed by this evil spirit, and the evil spirit wanted the relic to use for evil intent.” So much throwing the word evil around.

  “I have no idea why this spirit wanted the relic. It’s just a statue really, but it’s alleged to have belonged to the Archangel Gabriel. I’m not sure I ever truly believed that, but then, I don’t know that I truly believed in possession either. I don’t think any of us did even with the Vatican’s guidelines for approving possession. In fact, we used to joke it was mostly made up by movie producers. Yet, look at me now.”

  Cupping my chin in my hands, I sat silently for a moment, an entirely new batch of questions running through my head. “Okay, so you got the relic for fake Father O’Leary, and then what happened?”

  Trixie sighed, tucking her navy-blue sweater under her chin. “Things get a little fuzzy from there on out. But the demon in Father O’Leary cursed me, making me essentially a vessel for Hell. So basically, I’m open season for this spirit to come and go as it pleases.”

  My mouth fell open. “So…you’re cursed. Like this horrible thing can come in and out of your life at random, and you can’t do anything about it?”

  “That’s basically it in a nutshell,” she responded, looking away from me and out the window.

  Oh, that made me so angry for her! If there was one thing I needed, it was control—of my mind and body. To be at someone’s whim was an unspeakable horror. One I sort of got, considering what Adam Westfield had done to me.

  “Okay, so where did this relic go and who is doing this to you—or is the question, what is doing this to you?”

  “Evil,” Coop spat, her eyes flashing. “It’s evil doing this. There’s plenty of it to go around, I can tell you true. And somehow, it wormed its way into Father O’Leary’s person. Once it has a body, or a host as we call it down there, it can do as it pleases.”

  “I don’t know where the relic went,” Trixie said, a helplessness in her voice that cut me to the core. “The video of me and my…poor behavior, or should I say what got me booted from the convent, doesn’t show the relic anywhere in my possession. Of course, my fellow nuns think I stole it and put it on eBay, even after they searched my room and all my belongings. If it weren’t for Sister Meredith, I’d likely be in jail right now,” she said forlornly.

  Coop did that almost-smile thing again. “I like Sister Meredith. She’s kind—even to a dirty demon like me.”

  Trixie rasped an aggravated sigh. “You’re not dirty, Coop. Stop saying that! You’re just as kind as anyone I’ve ever met. If it weren’t for you, I’d have never gotten out of there alive. Give yourself some credit, would you?”

  Now I was all about the facts and checking them off my list. “So the relic went missing, and Coop saved you from the evil that had Father O’Leary in its grip. How’d you do that, Coop?”

  Coop—beautiful, direct Coop—didn’t hesitate with her answer. “When the evil spirit escaped, he left a door from Hell open to the convent. I jumped through it with Livingston riding piggyback. No one leaves Hell without leaving behind a ripple. I waited for the right ripple. I waited many, many years to escape, and I finally did, and I’m never going back. I’ll die first.”

  “Heavens,” Win mumbled, probably as entranced by this story as I was.

  I really had to fight to stay on task and not stray from my purpose. I wasn’t tired anymore. I was invested, and hearing Coop say she’d die before she’d go back to Hell broke my heart and made me that much more determined to figure this out.

  “So this spirit hopped from Father O’Leary to Trixie, and you did what to save her, Coop?”

  Clucking her tongue, Coop’s look became faraway and distant. “I fought it with my sword, as I’ve fought many battles before, but he got away. He was a bad, bad spirit. Black and ugly.”

  Trixie ran a hand over her face, rubbing her eyes. “But in the process, she saved me from total possession. Had the spirit taken over entirely, he would have eaten my soul, and there’s no coming back from that.”

  Ah. Now I understood their bond. It didn’t get much more intense than soul-stealing.

  Coop’s jaw hardened. “But I didn’t save you all the way, Sister Trixie Lavender. I couldn’t stop him from cursing you.”

  I held up a finger. “So this curse is what allows this thing to get in and out of your body?”

  She nodded, her expression grave, her face chalky. “And makes me do horrible, horrible things—say horrible things—like what you saw tonight, and what I told you I did at the convent earlier. I’m sorry, Stevie. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. It… What happened tonight hasn’t happened in a very long while. At least four months. I thought… I hoped, it had gone away. I know that’s wishful thinking, but there you have it. We even have a calendar where we count down the days since Trixie’s last possession.”

  And I had the nerve to think I’d had it bad. I reached across the table and gripped her hand, giving it a hard squeeze. “I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to help. Can’t you have an exorcism or something? Why wouldn’t the nuns help you? Isn’t that their whole purpose?”

  Now Trixie barked a laugh. “Because they didn’t believe me. Not after the stunt I…or should I say, the stunt my evil spirit pulled. The church has a stringent guideline for possession, and because I was sometimes vocal and challenged scripture at every turn, no one believed me. In essence, they thought I was faking it. So until we can find the relic, or find out what’s so special about the relic, there’s nothing to be done.”

  Clenching my fists, I fought a scream of rage. “And Coop, you don’t know what it means?”

  Coop clapped a hand on the table, making me jump, her reply as fierce as she was. “I swear on my new soul
, I don’t know why anyone would want the relic or why this spirit wants Trixie, other than the fact that it can enter this realm through her. I swear this to you, Stevie Cartwright! But we can’t allow it to take her over or she’s as good as dead. I will not let that happen. Not at any cost. That’s why I can’t go to jail. Trixie won’t have anyone to protect her.”

  So that’s why she’d said all those things about not letting the spirit “have” Trixie’s body. I wanted to cheer Coop’s steadfast loyalty. I wanted to tell Trixie how lucky she was to have someone as amazing as Coop, someone who would help her fight her demons to the bitter end. She could have left Trixie to her own devices after getting what she wanted, but she didn’t.

  I’d lucked out with Win and Arkady, and it made me breathe a sigh of relief that Coop and Trixie had each other. But now wasn’t the time for kudos because I was getting around to asking a very touchy question. But it had to be asked.

  First, I needed more coffee and a Twinkie. I went to the coffeepot and poured more, grabbing my favorite spongy cake on the way. “Do you know when this possession is going to happen to you? Can you feel it coming? Do you get any warning?”

  Trixie’s shoulders sagged, and I hated the defeated look on her face and in her body language. “No. None. Though, sometimes, I see what’s happening in sort of a hazy way, but I have no control over it. Not one iota. And sometimes, I don’t even remember it.”

  “That’s what we’re trying to learn,” Coop said with determination all over her face and written in her eyes. “We must learn how to control this bad, bad spirit until we can cleanse ourselves of it and regain Trixie’s freedom.”

  I looked to Trixie, whose eyes were downcast, her fingers entwined. “Do you think that’s possible?”

  “I suppose anything’s possible, right? I mean, who would have believed one could truly be possessed? Like screaming, kicking, red-eyed, malicious possessed. I know millions of people do, but I’m pretty sure I didn’t. You know what’s funny?”

  Not possession, that’s for sure. “What?” I asked.

  “Even though I was a nun, I never really believed in evil, per se. I don’t necessarily believe everything the Bible says, or believe in the horrors that will befall you if you break a commandment. In fact, I often challenged the nuns on scripture—sometimes daily. But I do believe in being the best person you can be. Yet, there really is a Hell, and it grabs hold of me and uses me as a shield to the outside world.”

  That made me wonder something. “Why did you become a nun, anyway?”

  “Drugs,” she said on a nervous laugh, running her fingers over the handle of her coffee mug. “I was addicted as a teen. My parents sent me to their very dear friend, a nun, at the convent I ended up pledging my life to. This nun helped me free myself of addiction and I, in turn, became a nun in her honor, and even though I’m not bound to the church anymore, I try to uphold every lesson about being a good person she ever taught me.”

  My heart clenched in my chest. “And where are your parents now?” I asked.

  Trixie’s eyes went sad, her posture slumping. “They’re gone. Both from cancer, and not too far apart, unfortunately. But we’d made amends long before they died. They often came to see me at the convent. I’m so grateful for the time I had with them, to try to make up for how difficult I was when I was on drugs. I miss them every day.”

  “Now Trixie has us for a family, right?” Coop asked, giving her that awkward pat on her hand she’d clearly been taught was a sign of consolation.

  Trixie grinned and patted Coop’s hand in return. “That’s right, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Anyway, we’ve been gone from the convent for a while now. We sort of drifted until we came up with a plan, and that plan was to open a tattoo shop. Not end up accused of murder.”

  My lips flatlined. Now onto the uglier bits of this mess. “Murder… I don’t like asking this, Trixie, but I don’t have a choice. Do you think you could have killed Hank while possessed? Because the spirit or whatever it is said you did.”

  Horror washed over her expression and her eyes filled with angry tears. “I… I have to be truthful. I don’t know, Stevie. I don’t know…”

  “Oh, Stephania. Whatever shall we do if this is the case?”

  But I shook my head, angry with the notion this sweet, gentle woman was being forced to live this way. “I’m not sure I believe that’s the case, Win. Now, listen, Trixie. I realize this thing is evil and likely lies for the sheer pleasure. In fact, I get the impression it wants you to give in so it can find a mortal host. I don’t know why or to what end, but you can’t ever give up. Never. That said, we have to consider the possibility.”

  She threw her hands in the air as though she were giving up. “And how will I explain that to the police? Sorry I killed Hank, but it wasn’t my fault, Officer. I was possessed.”

  But I wasn’t going to give up so easily. Nay. In fact, I was going to question everyone who I thought looked even remotely suspicious, because I couldn’t let it be Trixie. It just wouldn’t stand.

  “We’re not there yet. I have a whole list of suspects to chat up still.” Speaking of, I needed to get a move on. I was hoping to catch some of the people I’d considered today so I could begin a process of elimination. I imagined it would be tough with the weather being so poor, but I was going to do whatever I had to in order to clear Trixie’s name. For sure, the cops were a dead end for information. I’d be lucky if Dana ever spoke to me again. I was going to have to go this one all alone.

  Turning to the ladies, I cracked my knuckles. “No one gives up—not on my watch. Now, you two, stay here. Do not leave this house. Don’t answer the door. Don’t look out the window. Stay put. I’ll move faster alone, and I don’t want the police getting to you before I’ve had the chance to ask around.”

  Trixie peered at me from her end of the table. “Do you think anyone will even talk to you, Stevie? Don’t people usually clam up at a time like this? That’s what happens on Criminal Minds.”

  “This isn’t Criminal Minds, and they don’t have me. I’m pretty good at getting what I want. Don’t you worry. I’m going to grab a shower and head out. It’s going to take me a little while to get into town with all the snow, but I’m hoping the weather works in our favor and keeps everyone busy with other things. While I’m gone, you guys memorize the stuff Win had prepared for Coop—especially her new last name.”

  “Weather providing, supporting documents should be here within a day or two,” Win assured.

  “Who did you get to help you anyway, Win?” He’d been a spy. I’m sure that meant he had tons of contacts that could produce fake documentation, but I was curious.

  “Never you mind, Stephania,” he said on a chuckle. “All you need to know is I’ve handled everything necessary to create a believable past for Coop.”

  Coop looked up at the ceiling. “Thank you, uh… Winterbottom,” she said, her eyes turning oddly shy.

  I smiled at her. She was too darn cute—even if she was a little over the top. “Okay, I need to motor.”

  “But you’ve hardly slept, Stevie,” Trixie pointed out. “And Google says they’ve officially called this a blizzard. You need your wits about you if you’re going to drive in this. I can’t let you do that.”

  I smiled as I rose and grabbed my coffee cup to put in the sink. “You say that a lot, and I keep telling you, you don’t have a choice. But just one more thing?”

  Trixie began clearing the table and pushing in chairs. “What’s that?”

  “Did you really moon all those nuns while you were possessed? Is that really what got you booted out of the convent?” I still couldn’t believe it.

  Trixie fought an impish smile as she took one last sip of her coffee before she said, “Oh, I really did, and there’s video to prove it.”

  I couldn’t help it—because it was almost too absurd—but I laughed like a loon all the way to the shower.

  Chapter 13

  “Stephania, the roads a
re atrocious. The last thing I want is for you to join me here on Plane Limbo over this impromptu investigation.”

  The roads sure were atrocious. It had taken me over an hour just to get to Main Street with the hope Burt Freely or Enid Gunkle, two of Hank’s most vocal haters on his Facebook page, would talk to me. A drive that usually takes all of five minutes.

  Now my dilemma was where to start. At their places of business or their homes? But I had to start somewhere. This snow couldn’t last forever, meaning, time was running out.

  Pulling over to the curb by Burt’s Barbershop, I saw lights on inside, leaving me hopeful I’d catch him, but it looked like Enid wasn’t at her sewing machine repair shop and yarn store, Sew Ready (does anyone even have a sewing machine anymore?), or if she was, there were no lights on announcing her presence.

  Some of the shop owners here in Eb Falls lived in their stores—like Madame Zoltar had, and the way Trixie and Coop were—leaving me hopeful I’d find both my prime suspects, and maybe someone else who’d seen something.

  The problem was, I had next to no information about Hank’s death. No time of death, no cause of death, no stalkery girlfriends except for his Facebook haters—nothing. And seeing as I’d burned my bridge with Dana last night, not to mention Starsky with my defense of Coop, I doubted I’d be able to wrangle any information out of anyone in the Eb Falls Police Department.

  Though, I kept Melba in the back of my mind. She wasn’t an ace in the hole by any stretch, but she was definitely an iffy possibility. I hadn’t offended her yet. As for Sandwich, I’d tricked him one too many times. Thus, if I said “boo,” he was running in the other direction these days. If I went to the police station, I’m pretty sure Dana would corner me, and if he didn’t, someone else would. Therefore, I had to fly low under the radar for as long as I could.

  But first up, Burt. I swiveled my head to look at his shop and everything outside it, all covered in wet snow. “I can’t believe we made it here. Those chains were the best idea you’ve ever had, Win.”