Stealing Time: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Novel

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Stealing Time: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Novel Page 10

by Gael, Christine


  “I’m great at Mah Jongg,” Mee-maw boasted, reaching for another garlic knot. Zoe slapped it out of her hand and it flew across the room, sending us all into another bout of chuckles.

  Zoe wasted no time, hurrying to stand next to Mitch’s chair.

  “Don’t mind me, Deputy,” she said, bending over him until her breasts were level with his eyes, “but you have a little bit of marinara right…here.”

  She held the mirror in front of him and he peered into it.

  “Where?”

  I stood and swallowed my chuckles as I scurried to look over his shoulder.

  An image of Mitch stared back at us, but it wasn’t the Mitch at our table. First of all, he was dressed in jeans and a cable-knit sweater, as opposed to the chinos and button down shirt he wore tonight. Second of all, his eyes were alight with unholy glee. For a second, a chill ran through me as I wondered if he had been possessed by Verbena at some point, after all. But then the angle of the image changed and it was easy to see that he was at a card table, a towering pile of chips in front of him. He licked his chops and shoved them into the pot.

  “I’m all in.”

  We couldn’t hear the words, but it was easy enough to read his lips.

  The image shimmered and that same, almost maniacally joyful Mitch turned to an equally miserable one. Bloodshot eyes, tousled hair, and the chips that had been a tower had dwindled down to just one.

  Mitch liked to play games, all right, but apparently poker was his game.

  And he wasn’t very good at it.

  The scene shifted again, and this time, it was Mitch at the Sheriff’s Office, staring down at the jewelry box on his desk. It was dark, no lights on, as he slipped something inside the box and closed the top.

  Zoe elbowed me in the side, and I nodded.

  So he had used the box, and he knew exactly what it did. But what else did he know? And had he ever met Verbena?

  “Mitch,” Zoe said softly, her voice barely a whisper. “Do you want to hurt us?”

  Mitch frowned and tried to face her, but Zoe moved the mirror with him.

  “What? No, of course not.”

  The image dispersed and another took its place. This one of Mitch dressed as he was tonight, looking through the medicine cabinet upstairs.

  “Do you know Verbena,” Zoe pressed softly.

  “Virginia?” he asked, sounding perplexed.

  “Verbena,” Zoe repeated.

  The image in the mirror changed again, this time to one of the jewelry box. Behind it, formed a silhouette of a man seated by a lake in front of a tiny cabin, kicked back in a lounge chair with a fishing pole in his hand while a woman who looked like Marilee floated by on a raft.

  I met Zoe’s gaze behind Mitch’s back and shrugged. Mitch was a dirty cop with a gambling problem whose life’s ambition seemed to be a pretty laid-back retirement.

  Zoe let out a relieved breath and patted him on the shoulder.

  “Did you get that marinara sauce?” she asked brightly as she bent low to meet his gaze again.

  “What?” Mitch asked, blinking up at her, clearly confused. “Oh. Uh, I don’t know. Did I get it?” Mitch asked, swiping his napkin at his lip fretfully.

  “Yup, all clear,” Zoe assured him, tucking the mirror back into her apron pocket.

  “Who wants cannoli?” Marilee sang as she padded into the dining room with a dish in one hand and a steaming coffee pot in the other.

  Patrick trailed behind carrying mugs, eyeing me questioningly.

  I gave him a subtle thumbs up as we all retook our seats, except for Zoe, who began clearing the table.

  “Well, I swear, I have never had that happen after a single glass of wine. You have to tell me the name of that rosé, Zoe,” Marilee said with a titter. “I was absolutely tipsy before my food settled but…I don’t recall what was so darned funny, though.”

  Mitch cocked his head and leaned back to let Zoe clear his still half-full plate. “Weird. Me either.”

  I was still feeling odd. Floaty and strange, but mercifully less hysterical and buzzed, which was a relief. It had felt a little like getting tickled. Laughter, sure, but out of your control, and a little disturbing.

  Mee-maw reached for a cannoli and Zoe snatched it from her hand with a growl.

  “You know, Mee-maw, you’re looking a little pale. I think I should probably get you to bed.”

  “It’s not even eight o’clock yet. I wanted to watch Matlock,” Mee-maw said with a glare.

  “Still, you aren’t as hearty as you were before the heart attack. Mitch, Marilee, my grandmother isn’t feeling one hundred percent. Maybe we can continue this another time?”

  “That sounds perfect,” Patrick said, rising from his seat. “You are both tired anyway. In fact, you probably don’t even remember why you came here.”

  If the couple hadn’t picked up the cue Zoe was putting down, they both certainly couldn’t resist Patrick’s power of suggestion as they yawned in stereo.

  They looked at each other, then at Patrick, and stood. “We really should get going…but thanks for your hospitality,” Marilee said.

  “I’ve made you a box of cupcakes to take home with you. Cricket will get your coat for you while I get them,” Zoe said with a smile as she made her way into the kitchen.

  Ten minutes later, the house was quiet as we listened to them pull away.

  Then, we all sighed in unison.

  “You think he’s all right to drive?” I asked the others.

  “Could you drive right now?” Zoe replied.

  I considered the question. “Yeah, I just feel a little weird now. Not myself, but not drunk.”

  “He’s got you by a good six inches and a solid fifty pounds, so I’m sure he’s fine. It’s only a couple of miles, in any case,” Zoe said with a shrug. “Now, can one of you please tell me what the hell happened tonight? You had to go and eat the garlic knots, didn’t you?” she demanded, perching her hands on her hips.

  “It was her fault,” I shot back, thrusting a finger at Mee-maw. “Going on and on about poison. He was about to walk out without eating anything at all, if I didn’t step in. You’re welcome,” I added primly.

  “Well, whatever. All I know is we can’t go to the graveyard with you two compromised,” Zoe said with an eye roll.

  That was troubling enough in itself. The fact that we still hadn’t rooted out the mole was even more unsettling.

  “It seems to already be wearing off. Let’s wait an hour and go. We need to get to the cemetery so we can trigger Mee-maw’s powers into working ASAP.”

  “Nope. There’s going to be a hangover type period with this potion, Cricket. A couple hours from now, you’re going to feel groggy and slow and tired…We can’t risk us going there and your powers being out of control or limited in any way. Tomorrow is a new day. And it’s not like we haven’t accomplished anything. At least we know that Rasmusson isn’t the mole. Hopefully, Patrick’s little mind screw made him forget about the box, but if it didn’t, surely he knows we’re on to him and won’t try for it again. Let’s just be glad nothing catastrophic happened and call today a win,” Zoe encouraged.

  I did feel tired and a headache was already brewing, so I nodded.

  But an hour later, when the dishes were done and Patrick and I climbed into bed next to one another, I couldn’t help but question Zoe’s view of things.

  Seemed like something catastrophic had, indeed, occurred. Because even as Patrick pulled me into the warm circle of his arms, I couldn’t help but wonder, yet again, if I was there because I wanted to be, or because he had wanted me to want to be.

  And I didn’t like the way that felt, one bit.

  Chapter 12

  The insistent ringing of a phone woke me and I rolled out of bed, wincing at the thumping inside my head.

  Note to self: more Advil and water, stat.

  "Who's that?" Patrick muttered, still half asleep.

  "Don't know yet."

  I fumb
led on the nightstand and snatched up my backlit burner phone.

  Only 10:10 PM, so we hadn't been asleep all that long. My gut started churning instantly as I noted the time. At my age, nothing good ever came from phone calls that came in after ten PM.

  "Hello?" I answered cautiously, not recognizing the number.

  I could feel Patrick shifting as he sat up in the bed beside me.

  "Ms. Hawthorne?"

  "Yes," I replied, rubbing at my gritty eyes as I tried to clear my head.

  "This is Officer Ben Trubinski from the Newtown Police Department."

  Newtown? That was the location of the safe house Greg, Lizzie, and Jack had been taken to.

  My palms went clammy as I gripped the phone more tightly.

  "What's going on? Is my family alright?" I managed to choke out.

  Patrick laid a comforting hand on my back, but I barely felt it as panic threatened to close over me.

  "So far, everything is fine. The alarm at the safe house was triggered about ten minutes ago. We spoke to a man we think was your ex-husband, and he confirmed all was well. He thinks it was just an animal outside. I’m in a squad car on my way to check it out, just to be safe, but we wanted to call and confirm that all was well at your place?”

  "Y-yes. Everything is fine." Aside from the tremors now wracking my body.

  "Good to know. Just take extra care tonight until you hear back from us, all right? I’ll be on location in about fifteen minutes. In the meantime, check all the locks on your doors and windows and stay indoors. I'll give you a call back as soon as I know anything."

  "Officer, we've been concerned that there might be a mole..." I trailed off and then tried again. "We're worried that the location of the safe house could potentially be compromised. I think I should come there to make sure--"

  "Ma'am, it's late," he cut in firmly. "It's a two-hour drive, and we have people much closer than you who can check to make sure all is well. Please don't make our job, or that of your local authorities, any more difficult than it needs to be, all right? We need to keep your family safe, but we also need to keep you safe, as well. And, frankly, given that you've already been kidnapped twice by these lunatics, I'm much more concerned about you going out and about in the middle of the night unprotected than I am about your family. They were moved as a precaution only. To my mind, I'm more concerned that this could be some sort of trap meant to do exactly that: Get you out of the house and on the road, where you'll be easy pickings. If I get there and see anything…anything at all that causes concerns, we can discuss other options. Give me fifteen minutes, tops." There was a long pause before he continued more gently. "Can you do that for me, Ms. Hawthorne?"

  I swallowed past the knot in my throat and nodded. "Yes. Fifteen minutes. I can do that."

  The call was disconnected and I lowered the phone to my lap.

  "What's happened?" Patrick asked as he flicked on the bedside lamp.

  "The alarm at the safe house went off. They think it's nothing, an animal or something, but they're checking into it now."

  I stared down at the phone and gnawed at my lower lip. The officer was right. Verbena didn't want my non-magical ex-husband or my kids. She wanted me and my coven, and all the magical items in our possession. If the alarm had been triggered by Verbena or anyone else in the Organization, it was surely to get me to react and do something rash, like rush out into the open at night and give them easy access to the jewelry box, candle, and mirror.

  At the thought of the jewelry box, my mind then flickered to Mitch Rasmusson.

  "Could it be Mitch? I know we were assured that only us and the cops in Newtown had information on the safe house, but he could’ve found out the location before he quit. Maybe he went there in hopes of getting us out of the house so he could come back and steal it?" I said to Patrick, trying to stay calm and rational while I waited for the phone to ring again.

  Patrick considered that for a long moment and then shook his head. "The mirror showed his intentions and we saw none of that. Plus, it's a long drive. Judging by how tired you all were after that potion, I'm going to guess that even if he did remember why he'd come to the house after the suggestion I planted in his head, he wouldn't have had the energy to set something like that in motion so fast."

  A low knock sounded at the door, cutting our conversation short.

  "Can I come in?" Zoe called in softly.

  "Yeah," I said, shoving the rest of the blankets aside and swinging my legs over the side of the bed. Any hopes of sleep were long gone.

  Zoe stepped in looking sleep-tousled and wary. "I thought I heard a phone ring and then I heard you guys talking. Everything okay?"

  "The safe house alarm went off. They're doing a check-in now. We'll know shortly."

  She pursed her lips and crossed her arms over her chest. "I'll put on the coffee pot."

  "You want me to stay with you?" Patrick asked as he stood.

  I shot him a grateful glance. He was so good at reading a room. “Actually, I need a minute alone to get my head right. I’ll be down in a minute, okay?”

  To his credit, he accepted my decision without question or censure, bending low to press a warm kiss on my lips.

  “We’ve got Zoe’s nifty alarm system in place, so I’m sure everything is okay, but I’m going to check the perimeter of the house, as well as the windows and doors. Don’t worry, we’ll get to the bottom of this.”

  He headed out of the room without waiting for a response, as I rose and slid my feet into the slippers beside the bed.

  Greg answered on the third ring, right when I’d started pacing.

  "Everything is fine. The kids are good," he said immediately, his calm tone taking the sharpest edge off her panic.

  I let out a shaky breath and stilled. "What happened, exactly?"

  "I was about to go to bed and the front light flickered. It's on a sensor, so I went to check it out. I didn't open the door, but I did lean my forehead against it and I think it tripped the alarm. I saw a raccoon out by the garbage can and I'm pretty sure that's what triggered the lights."

  Knowing Greg, that all gelled, further calming my jangled nerves.

  Then Maude's most recent prediction floated into my mind like a portent of doom.

  Root out the mole now, or risk the heart that beats outside your chest.

  "Let me talk to the kids for a minute."

  "Lizzie is in bed already, she stayed up late last night. I'll put Jack on."

  The sound was muffled for a minute and then Jack's voice sounded over the line.

  "Hey, Mom."

  I closed my eyes as relief coursed through me. "Hey, kiddo. Everything okay there?"

  "Yeah, fine. Bored, but whatever. You guys all right?"

  "Yes, doing really well. And I know it's tough, but it will all be over soon enough." One way or another, this nightmare would come to an end. In the next few days, if I had anything to say about it. After the scare I just had, I would tolerate no more delays. If Verbena prevailed, and we lost, at least Lizzie and Jack would be safe.

  A stubborn thought that had been buzzing around my brain surfaced again and I tamped it down. When I talked to Connie next, I'd broach the subject. Until then, there was no use borrowing trouble. We were all stocked up on that front.

  "And you're sure your sister is asleep in bed?" I pressed, trying to sound casual.

  "Dad had me go in her room to check when the cop called. Don't worry about us, Mom. Take care of yourself, Mee-maw, and Aunt Zoe, okay?"

  Everything was alright.

  So why did it still feel all wrong?

  I shot a glance at the time. It had only been five minutes since the officer had called. I’d give it another five before calling him back and making sure.

  My senses hummed as I said my goodbyes to Jack and headed downstairs to join the others.

  I found Mee-maw, Patrick, and Zoe all sitting at the dining room table cupping mugs of steaming liquid.

  “Cocoa or coffee?�
� Zoe asked, gesturing to the two carafes on the table.

  “Coffee.” Despite the adrenaline still coursing through me, my head felt fuzzy and achy from the last remnants of Zoe’s potion.

  “Windows and doors are all locked up tight and I see no evidence of any tampering,” Patrick said, pausing as he took a long pull from his mug. “We’ll wait to hear back from the cops and then--”

  My cell phone jangled and I held up a finger as I lifted it to my ear.

  “Yes?”

  “Ms. Hawthorne, this is Officer Trubinski again. I’m at the house and all is well. I’m going to do another walk through and reprogram the passcode before I go, but I feel confident that your ex-husband just tripped the alarm when he was looking outside.”

  I held up a thumb for the group and nodded. “That’s good to hear, Officer. If you can give me a call back before you go, just to confirm that everything is okay, that would be great.”

  He agreed and disconnected as I accepted a mug from Zoe.

  “All good there.”

  Mee-maw let out a relieved sigh. “Well, thank the sweet baby Jesus. What with all the talk about moles and the like, I was sure--”

  A low, droning sound, like the buzz of a mosquito swarm, filled my head and the mug dropped from my suddenly numb hand and hit the wood floor with a thunk.

  Mee-maw and Zoe’s eyes shot to mine, and I knew they heard it, too.

  “Zoe’s magical alarms have been tripped,” I croaked at Patrick as Mee-maw, Zoe, and I all rushed into the foyer, with him hot on our heels.

  The sound of keys jangling broke the eerie silence as I held up a hand, ready to blast whoever walked through the door with everything I had. A second later, the door swung open and a man in a trench coat stepped in.

  “Geez, Cricket,” Phil gasped, eyes wide as he clutched his heart in surprise at finding us there. “You scared the crap out of me.” He paused, and shot a puzzled glance at Patrick, who he’d only met once before. “And why is the exterminator from the bakery here at this hour?”

  My brain couldn’t process what was happening, but I kept my hand pointed at his chest in the meantime. Zoe, on the other hand, seemed to have already connected all the dots and her face filled with fury as she closed in on him.

 

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