Poison and Potions: a Limited Edition Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Collection

by Erin Hayes

  She hit the speed dial, pressed the phone to her ear, and exhaled in relief when Ellie picked up on the first ring.

  “Hey, Ellie. Something’s happened. Can you come over?”

  “I’m just leaving Don’s retirement party. I can be at your place in ten minutes. Are you okay?”

  Kyra blew out an icy breath. “Just come over as soon as you can.”

  “It’s all such a nightmare,” she said, after filling Ellie in on everything that had happened. “They think I did it.”

  “You don’t know that. They’re conducting an investigation. They have to talk to everyone who knew him, right?”

  Kyra gave a helpless shrug. “Maybe. Listen, I promised Taggert I’d look for his mom. Do you think you could drive me out to their house?”

  “Tonight?”

  “This might be my only chance. I have to meet with my lawyer in the morning, and I don’t know what the next twenty-four hours will look like.

  Ellie shrugged. “Sure, if you’re up to it.”

  Kyra stared out at the dusky buildings streaming past the window as they drove. Everything felt surreal. As if she were fleeing through the night like a criminal on the run, the oncoming traffic bent on hunting her down in their blinding beams. Somewhere deep inside her a dark rage bubbled. Soul Stalkers had taken Brian, but she wouldn’t let them take Martina too. She’d find her, just like she’d promised Taggert.

  “Griswold! This is the street!” she said, sitting up with a jolt right before the turn for Martina’s house. “Turn left here and drive by slowly. I want to see if there are any lights on. Hal won’t recognize your car even if he sees us.”

  Ellie turned onto the street and reduced her speed as they passed the first four houses, jammed shoulder to shoulder on a tiny strip of dirt. A jumbled collection of trash, tires, and broken-down fences littered the front yards. The fifth house on the left stood derelict in the dark, skirted with junk and scrap metal. “Looks clear,” said Kyra, scrutinizing the yard. “Let’s park a couple of houses down on the other side.”

  Ellie pulled up to the curb, turned off the engine, and cracked her window. Seconds later, the unmistakable sound of an approaching truck rattled nearby. Kyra slunk down in her seat. The vehicle turned into Griswold, barely slowing as it veered carelessly into Martina’s driveway and lurched to a stop.

  The truck door opened, hinges groaning in the night air. An unshapely male clambered out and disappeared into the house.

  “Hal,” said Kyra, through gritted teeth. “We can’t do anything with him here.”

  “I could take a quick scout around,” Ellie offered. “Maybe he left his truck unlocked.”

  Kyra shook her head. “Too dangerous.” As she pressed the button to adjust her seat, her phone vibrated. She glanced at the number on the screen and stiffened. Taggert.

  “Be right back,” Ellie mouthed at her, silently opening the driver’s door.

  “Wait!” whispered Kyra, as she hit the talk button.

  “Don’t worry, he doesn’t know me.” Ellie closed the door behind her softly.

  “Hey, Taggert.” Kyra tried to hit a cheery note, but her throat was tight with dread.

  “Where you at?”

  “Your house. Hal just pulled up. No sign of your mom so far.

  “Whatcha gonna do?”

  “Make an anonymous call to the police. Let them know he’s here. He’s a person of interest. The least they can do is take his statement.”

  “They done that this morning already. He swears he ain’t seen her since she left.”

  Kyra digested this new information. Evidently Hal had returned from wherever he’d spent the night and was carrying on life as usual.

  “Did they search the house?”

  “Hal told ’em to get a warrant.” Taggert paused and then added. “Key’s out back under a red bucket.”

  “I can’t go looking for it with him in the house. Do you think your mom’s inside?”

  Taggert’s choppy breathing on the other end of the line slowed. “If she’s there, she’s buried under that pile of junk out back.”

  Kyra put a hand over her eyes, trying to block the crass image from her mind.

  “If she’s alive, she ain’t there,” Taggert continued. “He’d be too ’fraid Bessie, our neighbor lady’d find out. She always did look out for Mom and all, but she can’t stand Hal.”

  “Where else could he have taken her?”

  There was silence on the other end. Kyra waited impatiently, squeezing the tension in her right shoulder with her fingers. “Think, Taggert. Does he go anywhere on a regular basis? Does he have a storage facility? Access to an elderly relative’s house that’s empty? There’s got to be somewhere he could hide her.”

  “I know one place he’s been, where no one lives at no more. He took me fishin’ there once.”

  “Where?”

  “An old cabin up at Lake Indian, ’bout two or three hours north. Some guy he worked for lets him use it.”

  “Do you remember how to get there?”

  “Maybe.”

  Kyra chewed on her bottom lip. If Hal was staying here tonight, it was worth a try. “We’ll drive up there. I’ll pick you up in an hour.”

  “Wait!”

  “Yeah?”

  “I left my bag in your car.”

  Kyra froze.

  “My car’s out of operation,” she said, after an awkward pause. “We’re in my friend’s car.”

  “Whatever. Just bring my bag.”

  She scrunched her eyes shut. “I ... can’t. My car’s in the shop.”

  A stream of profanities lit up the line.

  “Take it easy, Taggert—”

  “Bring my bag or I ain’t taking you to the cabin.”

  Chapter Forty-Six

  The line went dead and Kyra slumped against the passenger door, abandoning herself to the darkness clouding her mind. She couldn’t save Martina. There never had been any hope of saving her. Not with the Soul Stalkers thwarting her every step of the way.

  The car door swung open and a rough jolt of cold air startled her. Ellie slid back in on the driver’s side, jangling a key on a ring. “This was in the truck console.”

  Kyra stared at her. “Are you out of your mind?”

  “Hal didn’t hear a thing. He was watching TV at the back of the house.”

  “I can’t believe you took that from his truck!”

  “It doesn’t fit his front door. Not that he’ll be needing a house key for much longer. The eviction notice on the door gives him six days.”

  Kyra’s jaw dropped. “You tried his front door?”

  Ellie swung the key to and fro. “Process of elimination. Here, take it. It might be the key to that cabin he’s hiding Martina at.”

  Kyra took the key Ellie handed her and looked at it curiously. “Taggert won’t take me there until I give him back the duffel bag he left in my car. He went ballistic when I told hm I couldn’t get it.”

  “He’s scared. All the adults in his life are shifting shadows, here, there, and nowhere to be found when you need them. The kid’s never had anyone he could trust.”

  “So what do I do? Break into the station and steal his bag? It’s confiscated property now, part of a homicide investigation. How many crimes is that rolled into one?”

  “I have a better idea. How about we call Rick? Maybe he can persuade Taggert to help. Taggert trusts him.”

  Kyra stared at Ellie. “You’re right. I should have thought of that.” She pulled out her phone and pressed it to her ear. Seconds later, Rick’s voice came on the line.

  “Kyra! Everything all right?”

  “No. I need your help.” Her voice shook as the words tumbled out.

  “I’m just finishing up dinner,” said Rick. “I’ll meet you at Harbor House.”

  Kyra thanked him and hung up. She leaned back on the seat, weak with relief. “He’s going to meet us at the shelter.”

  She scanned through her messages as Ellie
pulled out onto the main street.

  Heard about B on news. :(( So so sorry :(( R U OK? Where R U?

  “Deborah heard what happened to Brian,” Kyra said with a heavy sigh. “It’s all over the news.”

  “Let her know where we’re going.” Ellie frowned. “Just in case anything happens.”

  Kyra grimaced and typed a quick message in response.

  Tx. :(( Still in shock. Driving 2 Indian Lake 2 find Martina.

  At eight fifty-five, they pulled up outside Harbor House and parked alongside the curb behind a familiar gray minivan and a yellow jeep.

  “Here they come,” said Ellie.

  Kyra turned her head and watched Rick and Taggert come down the front steps of Harbor House. A third man with a beanie pulled over his ears followed them.

  “Who’s that?” asked Ellie.

  Kyra frowned as she opened her door and stepped out under the yellow glow of the streetlight. Something about the man’s stride struck her as familiar.

  “Ellie, Kyra,” Rick called out. He hurried over and embraced them both before turning to Taggert. “Taggert, have you met Ellie?”

  Taggert jerked his chin in Ellie’s direction but avoided making eye contact with Kyra.

  “And this,” said Rick, slapping the man with the beanie between the shoulder blades, “is my good friend Danny Riordan. He kindly agreed to help out as I have to head to the hospital. One of my parishioners is dying.”

  The muscles in Kyra’s face twitched as she stared at Danny. Despite the beanie girding his thick, blond hair, there was no mistaking those extraordinary, blue eyes. He was even wearing the awful, neon green sneakers he’d been wearing the first time they’d met in the bagel shop. What was it he’d said that day that had hung with her?

  Death’s about the only thing in life we can count on.

  Kyra shivered. She’d come close a few times since then.

  “Good to see you again, Kyra,” said Danny, adjusting his cap.

  “You two know each other?” asked Rick.

  ”Not exactly,” said Kyra. “We’ve bumped into each other before.”

  “And engaged in deep, philosophical conversations, if I’m not mistaken,” added Danny, with a wink.

  Kyra laughed to cover her embarrassment. She’d taken a risk and allowed herself to be vulnerable with him, never dreaming she’d see him again. Now he’d unexpectedly shown up again to “help out.” Like angels do. She pushed away the bizarre thought and looked around at the group. “So, what’s the plan?”

  “Danny and Taggert had a heart-to-heart and Taggert’s ready to help you find the cabin,” Rick said.

  Kyra glanced at her watch. “We should get going then.”

  “Wait!”

  At the sound of Taggert’s faltering voice, Kyra pivoted.

  “About that duffel bag, what I left in your car. Danny told me it’d be best if I fessed up.” He looked down at his feet and kicked a few sodden leaves around. “Didn’t mean for you to get nailed. I heard you was in a heap of other trouble already.”

  A huge burden silently unstrapped itself from Kyra’s shoulders, the release of emotion almost taking the legs out from under her. Without the drug possession charge, Jim would have a tough time finding a motive to connect her to Brian’s murder.

  “You’ve no idea how much I appreciate that, Taggert.” She looked him square in the eyes. “I was ready to lie for you.”

  He jutted his chin out and nodded. “I know. But all the liars I know are cowards, and you ain’t no coward.”

  Tears pricked unexpectedly at Kyra’s eyes. She looked away and blinked. How had this grungy teenager so succinctly resolved what she’d been wrestling with? First thing in the morning she’d call Meier and admit she’d lied about the duffel bag. Trying to pin the drugs on Brian was the worst decision she’d ever made, and the sooner it was off her conscience, the better.

  Ellie took the wheel and Kyra bobbed along at her side, eyelids at half-mast during the lulls in their exchanges as they followed Danny and Taggert in the yellow jeep. They drove northwest for close to two hours before turning off the highway. The sparse smattering of homes quickly trickled out into an occasional ramshackle lean-to or an abandoned cabin.

  At eleven fifteen, they turned onto a pot-holed, gravel road lacing back and forth for several rattling miles. The muted light of the cotton-colored moon daubed the towering telephone poles topped with osprey nests. In the distance, the strange group-yip howling of coyotes marked a kill. Kyra grimaced. She only hoped they weren’t too late to save Martina.

  They took a hairpin bend at fifteen miles an hour and Kyra gasped. An eerie flickering mass of inky-green water stretched before them, glistening beneath the moonlight, its forked inlets beckoning like bony fingers. Indian lake! Kyra swallowed back the bile in her throat. The perfect place to dump a body.

  Remnants of tumbledown docks, reaching with splintered limbs into the water, dotted the rim of the lake. Giant tamaracks eased their way upward like sharpened spears, tight-lipped watchmen of the murky depths. Kyra’s heart pounded in her chest. The police might end up having to drag the lake for Martina’s body.

  “Danny’s pulling over,” said Ellie, slowing down and parking behind the jeep.

  This is it. Kyra inhaled deeply and unbuckled her seatbelt, a premonition of evil nagging at her, as if some malevolent showdown was about to unfold. She tucked her purse under the seat and slipped on her jacket. A melodic beep from her cell signaled a new text message. Fishing her phone from her pocket, she tapped the screen and skimmed Bridget’s text.

  Dad had heart attack. In surgery. Where R U???

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Blood swooshed through Kyra’s veins in panicked spurts. She read the text again, willing the letters to reconfigure themselves, but the message remained, unaltered. The phone shook in her hand.

  “What is it?” asked Ellie.

  “My dad had a heart attack.” Kyra covered her eyes with her hand. “It’s my fault. All the stress. I brought this on him.”

  “I’m so sorry, Kyra.” Ellie placed a hand on her shoulder.

  “I need to get back there, but I can’t leave ...” Her voice trailed off, her breath wedged in her throat. She could barely think straight through the muddle of grief and fear sloshing inside her head. She choked back a sob as her cell phone beeped again.

  Just spoke to doctor - 2 stents in, went gr8.

  Relief cascaded over Kyra. She bit her lip and looked over at Ellie. “He’s going to be okay,” she said, softly. “He’s out of surgery.”

  A low, insistent rapping on Kyra’s window interrupted them. Danny ducked down to eye level and Kyra hurriedly rolled down the window.

  “That’s the cabin,” he said, gesturing toward a rutted, dirt driveway across the street. “Taggert’s sure of it. Place is closed up tight and the curtains are all pulled at the downstairs windows. There’s no way to tell from here if anyone’s in there. We’d better make some kind of plan.”

  “I’m going to sit tight for a minute,” said Kyra. “I need to try and reach Bridget.”

  “Okay,” Ellie said. “I’ll leave the keys with you.”

  Kyra leaned back against her seat and watched Ellie follow Danny over to the jeep. She punched out a couple of lines of text to Bridget and hit the send button repeatedly, but each time the message stalled. Frustrated, she dropped the phone into her lap and looked out over the dark, scowling water. Shivering as the wind fingered her face, she followed the fitful movements of the lake, the water seething as if some malevolent energy had merged with the elements. She pictured Martina floundering as Hal held her head beneath the sunless water, her lungs filling with the dark, green liquid. Floating, weightless, and then her empty, glassy eyes staring stiffly up at the sky from beneath the surface.

  Kyra shivered. She slumped back in her seat, trembling and cold from the dark thought that haunted her.

  Had Hal drowned Martina?

  Chapter Forty-Eight


  Martina stirred at the rapping sound, blinking herself awake as she struggled to get her bearings. She groaned and adjusted her hips on the lumpy mattress beneath her. Her belly burned with hunger. She was still trapped in this rodent-infested prison with no food or water. She ran the tip of her tongue over her flaking lips and glanced toward the window. It was dark out now, but the moon dusted the room with enough natural light to see by. Had she heard something or had she dreamt it? Maybe a tree branch tapped the window.

  She eased herself up and scanned the room. Hal had taken off in his truck after he’d locked her back up. Chasing down a liquor store, no doubt. There hadn’t been but a swallow of whisky left in the bottle he’d given her. And it hadn’t done much to quench her thirst. She’d spat most of it out.

  She slid her feet to the floor, shuffled over to the door, and pressed an ear against it. Hal’s snoring was loud enough to drown out thunder even when he hadn’t been drinking. But she heard nothing. After a few minutes, she curled back up on the bed, palms beneath her cheek. She squeezed her eyes shut to trap her tears as she pictured Taggert alone at the shelter. They couldn’t have more than a couple of days left in the house before the sheriffs came with the eviction order. Taggert would be put in a foster home. Was Hal planning on moving into this cabin? Maybe he’d kill her here and skip town.

  A loud crack startled her. She stiffened. Something had hit the window. A bird? She scrambled up on the bed and pressed her face against the mold-encrusted pane, trying to catch sight of something through the grime. Out of the far corner of her eye she spotted a button-sized light arcing back and forth just inside her line of vision.

  Someone was out there! Heart pounding, she hammered frantically on the window with her fists, tears coursing down her face.

  Taggert yanked hard on Danny’s jacket. “I saw someone at the window up there.” He snatched the flashlight out of Danny’s hands and began swinging it wildly back and forth.