Hollowed: Return to Sleepy Hollow, the Complete Duology

by Candace Wondrak

  “I didn’t kill him.”

  “I don’t think you did, either. We’re just trying to figure out what happened in there. The receptionist said you went back, and then, not even ten minutes later, he was dead.” Bones heaved a sigh. “You can see how things don’t exactly look good for you.”

  “We were alone in the room,” I said, biting my bottom lip to stop myself from bringing up the Headless Horseman. Bones might’ve grown up in Sleepy Hollow, but like Crane said—believing in the local superstitions was vastly different than believing real, genuine spirits haunted the town.

  Bones studied me. “How did Mike wind up with a foot-long gash in his chest?”

  Ugh. So much for not bringing up the Headless Horseman, huh? Seemed that bastard followed me wherever I went. Literally.

  “An ax,” I spoke delicately, as if speaking of murder was a normal thing for me. Newsflash: it wasn’t. The only thing keeping me sane right now was the fact that Mike probably would’ve killed me, or worse, if the Headless Horseman hadn’t done what he did. The damned guy saved me. I…I guess I owed him one.

  “An ax?” Bones asked, cocking his head. I could see the gears working behind his eyes, and I knew he wasn’t getting it.

  “You didn’t find the murder weapon in the room because,” I paused, feeling dread coat every part of me, “it was his.”

  “Mike’s?” Bones had the wrong idea, clearly. “You’re saying Mike did this to himself?”

  “I’m saying,” I lowered my voice, glancing at the camera in the upper corner of the room, at the blinking red light that told me it recorded everything that went on in this room. I didn’t want to sound nuts, not like my dad. He might’ve been the town crazy, but I wasn’t about to fill his shoes. “Something else did it.”

  Bones’s expression fell.

  “I know how crazy it is,” I said, my back hunching toward the table. The coffee sat untouched in front of me. “But it’s true. Compare the wound with axes. A weapon that size? I probably couldn’t even lift it, let alone throw it across the desk and practically cleave someone in two.” I doubted even Bones would be that strong. The Headless Horseman was…on his own level.

  The fucking god-tier.

  Bones took his time in saying, “The wound was…cauterized.”

  Cauterized? My eyebrows came together. “Doesn’t that mean—”

  “It means whatever killed him was either really hot, or…” Bones trailed off. “Fuck. I don’t know, Kat. I don’t know what it means. I know I said things are weird here, but this? This is murder.”

  “So you’ll play off breaking and entering to ghosts, but not murder?”

  His azure stare lingered on me, a muscle in his jaw clenching. “A gust of wind could’ve blown through a window you didn’t know was open—”

  “And tossed around wooden drawers?” I knew my voice rose with each breath, and I took another deep one to calm myself. Getting angry at Bones wouldn’t help. I had to make him see what I saw, to make him understand that this wasn’t some crazy conspiracy…but how?

  Crane. Crane would have to help with that.

  “You know I didn’t do it,” I said, calmer this time.

  “I know,” he whispered, and then proceeded to stare at me, pensive.

  We sat like that for a long while, each of us lost in our own heads until Bones got up and left the room. Well, I guess I’ll just make myself as comfortable as I can here, considering it doesn’t look like I’ll be leaving anytime soon.

  After what felt like hours, another officer came in. This time, it was the pretty woman who I’d seen talking to Bones before. She wore a frown when she looked at me, but even then, she was pretty. Flawless skin, slightly curled hair, nice boobs. Bones would be so much better off with her than with me. I…I don’t know why, but at least if he was with her, it would make things so much easier. No more tug-o-war going on in my soul.

  “Write down exactly what happened,” the woman said, passing me a pen and a notebook.

  My official statement. I had no idea how to make it sound less loony and more realistic, but I’d do my best. I started jotting down what happened, pretending to ignore the way the woman stared at me. I couldn’t help but wonder if she thought I was crazy. Like father, like daughter, right? The apple didn’t fall too far from the tree and all that. Or maybe she actually thought I’d done the murdering myself.

  I decided on saying that I’d blacked out—not totally a lie—and fallen out of the chair I was in while I panicked. I didn’t hear anything, didn’t see anything. When I came to, Mike was dead. It was true enough. These cops didn’t have evidence besides me being the only one in the room. A big weapon like that—you couldn’t hide it in your pants or tuck it away for next time. An ax that size was impossible to hide, and it was obvious I wasn’t strong. They couldn’t pin this on me.

  After I finished, she took my statement and left me alone in the room again. I twiddled my thumbs for what felt like forever before Bones returned, holding the door open for me. He said nothing, his blonde head gesturing for me to get up and follow him, so I did. I got up, moving to his side, trailing after him as he led me down the hall.

  “You’re not to leave town while the investigation is underway,” Bones said, glancing at me. “The chief didn’t want to release you, but I told him I’d keep an eye on you, make sure you don’t leave Sleepy Hollow.”

  So I owed my release today to Bones. I was surprised, considering how mad he was at Crane’s, but I guess I shouldn’t be.

  He brought me to the front of the station, stopping right before the doors. Outside, the world was sunny, as if it had no idea that a murder took place earlier. Weather never cooperated. I glanced outside for a split-second before lifting my gaze to his. I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but Bones stopped me.

  “Don’t,” he said. “I just…I know you have to deal with Phil’s stuff, so go. Do what you have to do. I’ll keep you updated.” Something passed behind his eyes, and I refrained from asking him what was wrong.

  There…was a lot wrong here. To ask would be stupid.

  “Thank you,” I said, leaving it at that as I exited the station. The wind immediately lapped at my skin, and I ran my hands along my arms, fighting the chill that instantly swept over me. It was as if this town knew it had me in its clutches and refused to let me go.

  I headed through town, heading straight to Crane’s house. It took me ages to walk up his long driveway, even longer to muster up the courage to use the metal door knocker on the elegant front door. Crane and Bones didn’t like each other; I had no idea whether or not Crane would help me at all, but I had to try. I couldn’t stand Bones being mad, and I hated the notion that he thought me just as insane as my dad. Everyone here might’ve loved my dad, but I was certain behind his back, the insults flew.

  Crane answered the door in a few minutes, blinking wildly behind his thin-rimmed glasses. He’d showered recently, his short brown hair sticking up a bit. His tall, lean frame wore new, pressed clothes. He looked like a model taken straight out of a clothing catalog, which was a ridiculous comparison to make, but it was true.

  I would say he looked silly, but somehow, someway, Crane pulled the clothes off. The only thing he looked was good.

  “Kat,” he spoke my name softly. “How did it go?”

  “How did what go?” I asked, sounding quite dumb. It was as I spoke that I remembered the day’s events. Meeting with Mike, realizing Mike was possessed, seeing the Headless Horseman, coming back to the real world to view a dead Mike. It was a doozy of a day. Before Crane could say anything else, I pushed past him, heading inside.

  There’s a lot we needed to talk about.

  Chapter Twelve

  Crane understood how important it was to clear my name or the murder—or at least have Bones on my side. If we had him believing in this stuff, if we helped to open his eyes to the supernatural world surrounding Sleepy Hollow, maybe he could help steer the investigation another direction, or
even close it. I knew I was the last person to see Mike alive, and I knew there was no evidence of anyone else in the room, but that’s just it. There was no other evidence. They had no leads, and like I’d said, there was no way I could’ve hidden a giant fucking ax in my pants as I walked by the receptionist or threw it so hard it lodged itself deep inside of him.

  Just…no.

  Crane had made me tea, which I refused to drink. Mostly because, as I sat there in his extravagant living room, my ass on a couch that probably cost a few thousand dollars, as I stared at the paintings of Sleepy Hollow on the walls, it suddenly hit me.

  Yeah, I know. It all hit me a little late, but better late than never, right?

  Mike was dead. An innocent man was dead because of me. And it had to be because of me; like Crane said, I was connected to this town somehow. I had no idea what the spirit possessing Mike would’ve done with me had it taken me, and now we’d never know because the Headless Horseman had killed him. He swung his ax in the otherworld and somehow wound up killing Mike in the real world.

  Crane set his cup down, reaching for me. He was about to touch my hands, which were folded on my lap as I stared holes into the carpet, wondering why the hell my life had gotten so messed up, but then he stopped himself, settling for resting a hand on my back. Hesitation after what happened earlier, I suppose, but I was too lost in my own mind to really think about it.

  “Kat,” Crane spoke my name with a refined delicacy, as if it was the most important word he’d ever say in his life. “We will figure this out. I’ll do a bit of digging, go through your father’s study again—”

  Right. Because he and my dad were working on a bunch of things revolving around spirits and the otherworld, and the veil that was weakening. Whatever. I guess my dad had a thousand different projects going, but he never completed any of them.

  Which, honestly, was just great. If I couldn’t get Bones to believe me, then…I didn’t know what I’d do.

  “And what if it doesn’t help?” I asked, turning my head to look at him. Crane’s green eyes sparkled behind his glasses, his thin lips caught in a semi-frown. Even then, I found him strangely appealing, attractive in a proper, regal way. You know the air people had about them when they had money? Crane had it, and a part of me hated it because I was never a fan of the rich type, but Crane wasn’t snobby. He was surprisingly normal, considering.

  “It will,” he said.

  “What if I get locked up for murder?”

  “You won’t.”

  “How can you be so sure? Crane, I saw someone die.” I paused, thinking back. “Okay, I didn’t so much see him die as I did come back to reality and find that he was dead after being blind for a few minutes, but still. Dead. Of course the police think it’s me. I was the only one there!” My voice steadily grew louder until it cracked at the end. Being a suspect for murder? Not something on my bucket list.

  Then again, I never wanted to come back to Sleepy Hollow either, and here I was. Here I was, wrapped up in a bunch of shit I grew up wanting nothing to do with.

  Crane grabbed me by the shoulders, forcing me to meet his eyes. He was a stern kind of serious when he said, “You are not going to be arrested. I will do everything in my power to help you, do you understand? I won’t let you take the fall for something a spirit did.”

  I fought my urge to lean against his shoulders, to close my eyes and breathe him in. With his hands on me, feeling his heat through the fabric of my shirt…let’s just say it wasn’t helping my case too much. It was ten times harder holding back when we were so close, his arms the only thing holding me up.

  “Not just a spirit,” I said. “The Headless Horseman.” A new thought came to me, and it was a terrible thought, something that made my gut clench in horror and my heart nearly stop. “How long until that spirit finds its way back to this world?” Crane had said once a spirit knows where the veil is thin, it can find it again.

  “We have time,” Crane said. “A few days, I think. It should be plenty of time to find a solution to this—” AKA help Bones see the spirit-infested light.

  “What if it possesses someone else? What if the Headless Horseman just goes around killing them over and over?” My breath caught, and it took ages for me to whisper, “What if it possesses you, or Bones?”

  A slow, small smile spread on Crane’s lips. The hands gripping my shoulders loosened, falling down to my upper arms, not letting me go completely. A slow, tentative movement that made me shiver. “Spirits take the easy bodies, those whose minds are weak. As much as I’m not a fan of Brom, he’s not weak.” A moment before he added in a hushed whisper, “And neither am I.”

  Our gazes locked, and whereas my heart had nearly stopped before, now it sped up, beating so fast it threatened to pop out of my chest. The mere thought of a spirit taking either Crane or Bones was not something I wanted to think about, because of these stupid feelings. As much as I wanted to fight it, I was connected to them both.

  Katrina Van Tassel 2.0, new and improved, a modern woman caught in a fucking love triangle. I thought love triangles were a thing of fiction, something you only encountered in books. You know, kind of like those reverse harems that were all the rage now. I mean, multiple guys in love with the same girl? What were the odds of that happening? And don’t even get me started on men being able to share a woman…

  Even though I wanted to fall into his chest and press my lips on his, I pulled away, getting up and moving to the closest painting hanging on the wall. It was one of the middle of town, where the town’s festivals were held. But it was done before the shops had been built around it; there was nothing but the wooden gazebo and trees in the painting. Hyper-realistic in the way that each leaf had been painted individually. I couldn’t imagine how much time that took.

  Crane was slow to get up, shoving his hands in his pockets as he moved beside me. He didn’t stand too close, but still. I couldn’t look at him. “I think it would be best if you stayed here,” he said. “This house is warded against spirits, so they won’t be able to get to you while you’re here. Anywhere you go in town, you shouldn’t go alone.” Basically he was saying he’d stick to me like glue.

  I…was more okay with that than I should’ve been.

  Dumb feelings. Stupid crush. Fucking spirits. Had to go and ruin everything, didn’t they?

  I sighed, closing my eyes momentarily as I muttered, “You’re right.”

  Who the hell was I trying to kid, anyway? It wasn’t like I could go back to my dad’s house and continue going through his stuff like nothing had happened. And who knew what was going on with his will, who was in charge of Mike’s clients now that Mike was dead. Wonder how long the hospital will hold onto Dad’s body…

  “I’m right?” Crane echoed faintly, bringing me out of my rambling mind. I shot him an annoyed glare, finding that he stared at me with confusion. “Did you just agree with me?” He apparently found the thought of me agreeing with him so farfetched that he needed me to repeat myself. The bastard.

  Despite the circumstances, I let out a laugh. “I think I did,” I said, shrugging.

  “Oh. Well, I was prepared to have to convince you,” Crane went on. “That, or tie you up to keep you from marching out there unawares—” His voice halted the moment I stepped closer to him, tilting my head.

  I shouldn’t be approaching him like this, but here I was, unable to stop myself.

  “I didn’t know you were the type, Crane,” I whispered, a grin spreading on my lips.

  His eyes fell to my mouth, watching the smile form as he stuttered, “The—the type to what?” Such a naive, innocent man. Hadn’t acted so innocent this morning, though. The way he took charge, it was so unlike him, almost like there were two people inside Crane. One was refined, proper, the kind of man who you’d think would faint at the sight of blood. The other, ironically, had a bit of a dominant streak.

  “To tie someone up,” I murmured, a calmness sweeping through me as I breathed him in. I wasn’t s
ure what he smelled like, but he smelled good. Or maybe that was just my body needing its release. Maybe I just needed to let off a bit of steam, to really get my mind away from everything else that was going on…

  “Oh,” he said, his pale cheeks flushing. Crane, who had to be around thirty years old, was blushing like a schoolboy who’d been approached by a girl for the first time. Although, from what he’d said before, he had never been interested in other girls growing up. Even though he’d never met me before, he knew me. He felt me. Almost like he was made for me.

  I didn’t believe in destiny, didn’t believe in fate, but what else could I call this? How else could I explain the undeniable feelings inside of me when it came to Crane and Bones? I’d had boyfriends, I’d dated, but none of them really drew my attention, at least not for long. Was this why? Was it because I was supposed to choose between Crane and Bones, just like the original Katrina?

  That was the thing. I didn’t want to choose. I wasn’t about to proclaim my undying love for either of them…but that didn’t mean I couldn’t get to know them a little better, right? I wouldn’t go so far as to say I was in love with either man, but you didn’t have to be in love to have sex.

  Jesus Christ on a bicycle. Look at me, flopping back and forth like a fish. Like picking off the petals on a flower: to touch him, to not touch him, to kiss him, to not kiss him, to fuck him, to not fuck him. I grew tired of the constant back and forth.

  Fuck it. You only lived once, right? You only had one life, so you had to make the most out of every moment, and all that other Hallmark card bullshit, right? Plus, with how things were going around here, it’d be a miracle if I lasted the week.

  We could brainstorm for a solution to the whole making-Bones-believe-us thing later. Right now, there was only one thing on my mind.

  Maybe it was my expression. Maybe it was the fact that I was this close from being taken by a spirit. Or, hell, maybe it was just a long time coming, but Crane knew exactly what I wanted. He reached for me, pulling me in close with an abrupt intensity I didn’t know he was capable of. His fingers splayed in my hair, holding my head steady, as if I’d try to pull away.