RAVEN'S HOLLOW

by Jenna Ryan

  But it didn’t. Instead of cornering their quarry, Eli wound up in a near collision with Ty’s cruiser, leaving Cal to bump through the junction and roar away on a rocky path few mountain goats would attempt.

  Recognizing the expression on Eli’s face, Sadie covered the gearshift with her hand. “Please don’t. I can’t afford a new vehicle, and I’m not insured for extreme off-road adventures. Cal knows these woods better than we do. Plus, we have his home address.”

  When the light in his eyes didn’t diminish, she did the only thing she could think of. She reached over the console, took his face in her hands and set her mouth on his.

  Because she only meant to distract him, the sudden burst of heat surprised her. It also caused every thought in her head to wink out.

  A dazzled “Wow” was the best she could manage when she eased herself away. “I didn’t expect...hmm.”

  His lips curved. “Serious understatement. But as long as we’re here.”

  He had her over the console and straddling him before her brain restarted.

  The hunger bottled inside her shot need and adrenaline into her veins. Bunching his jacket, she let her eyes sparkle into his. “As first times go, this wouldn’t be my setting of choice, but it’s better than—oh, damn, Ty!”

  The memory of the near collision had her whipping her head around. “He’s—gone,” she realized in relief. Then frowned. “Why is he gone?”

  Eli rested his forehead against her hair. “He didn’t go after Cal, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “Oh, I’m not up to thinking quite yet. My head’s still buzzing, and I’m in kind of a nice place physically.” She shimmied her butt on his lap. “However...”

  Employing every scrap of self-restraint she possessed, Sadie climbed off and dropped back into her seat. “Bet he saw us.”

  “If he didn’t, he should be declared legally blind.” Moving carefully, Eli grinned. “Message received. No wild rides.”

  “Only where my Land Rover’s concerned. Anything else is fair game.” When her gaze drifted to the dash clock, her eyes widened. “Is that the time? We need to go. Molly sets a strict schedule.”

  “For a séance? Sorry, sweetheart, I have to say again, your cousin’s very strange.”

  “Strange is the middle name of every Bellam and Blume descendant I know. Molly schedules bathroom breaks, Eli. She’ll follow through whether we’re there or not. And if the monster who wants me, you, or me and you dead shows up—very likely—the last thing I want to do is not be there and have him decide to vent his rage on people I care about.”

  Eli regarded the brooding sky. “Okay, we’ll go through with it. But I want to check out Molly’s apartment top to bottom before we start.”

  “It’ll be Nola’s apartment.” Sadie flicked the ends of her hair. “In order to achieve the proper atmosphere, Molly does her summoning in what our family believes was Nola Bellam’s inner sanctum.”

  “Great. Anything else I don’t want to know?”

  “You decide. At her last séance, two years ago, after Molly commanded the spirit in question to signal her presence by knocking three times, we heard three consecutive taps at the window.”

  “Signals can be rigged, Sadie.”

  “Not done yet. Nola’s room is on the third floor of the manor. When we opened the shutters, we found a raven sitting on the sill.”

  “Which is unusual because?”

  “He had a locket at his feet, which belonged to the dead woman. A locket no one had supposedly seen since before the spirit being summoned passed on.”

  “Uh-huh.” Now his lips twitched. “Can I assume this locket belonged to your ancestor?”

  “Ten points to you, Lieutenant.”

  “What was inside? A miniature painting of Hezekiah?”

  Unable to resist, Sadie leaned over the console and used her index finger to trace the line of his jaw. “Not quite. There were two locks of hair inside, one red, one black. And beneath them was a tiny piece of paper that read:

  Whosoever shall open my locket

  Will find no peace.

  In this life or the next.”

  Eli curled his fingers around her neck. “Gotta be more to it than that. Who opened the locket?”

  She touched her mouth to his in the lightest of kisses. “You already know the answer. I did.”

  * * *

  SADIE DIDN’T BELIEVE in portents or omens, never had. However, a séance in her ancestral home in the throes of the chaos that was unfolding around her, had her wishing she’d taken that job at the New York Times after all.

  She opted to wear traditional black—an ankle-skimming dress with a deep V, long pointy sleeves and just cling enough to bolster her slightly battered confidence.

  She got a major boost when she opened the front door of the manor. Eli’s eyes glinted dangerously even as Rooney hobbled in to wedge himself between them.

  Beaming with delight, the old man wrapped his bony fingers around her upper arms. “Nola won’t be putting in an appearance with one of her progeny looking as drop-dead beautiful as you do tonight, Sadie Bellam.” He inhaled deeply. “Smell like a dream, too. Hope your cousin’s got a standby spirit up her witchy sleeve.”

  “It wouldn’t surprise me.” She looked at Eli, then past him into the teaming rain before escorting Rooney slowly up the stairs to the third floor.

  “No need to fuss,” he assured her as she seated him. “You just make sure the tea’s hot and the whiskey that makes it drinkable isn’t of the soda pop variety. On the off chance my heart stops from fright, I’ll be needing something stronger than chamomile to jump-start it.”

  Sadie set a hip on the round table, crossed her arms and regarded him with a semihumorous expression. “I thought you were a firm believer in all the local lore, not merely your own.”

  “Oh, I believe, young Sadie, but I also know shinola when I see it. Molly’s got the trappings down pat. Hanging plants, rocks and crystals scattered, participants seated where she chooses, mood music for effect, candles for light. It all looks, sounds and smells perfect, but is it real or just a show for the tourists?” He tapped his nose. “One way or another, with a hundred-plus years under my belt, I’ll sniff out the truth. Now, let’s get down to basics.” His cane hit the floor between his knees. “Firstly, are you or my great-grandson gonna tell your favorite centenarian why I got a half-crazed phone call from Brick Majerki late this afternoon? And secondly, does a man’s heart actually need to stop before he can get a mug of tea in this house?”

  On cue, Orley slammed a tray holding four pots and several mugs onto the table, growled out a hello and marched off.

  “Green pot’s yours,” Sadie stage-whispered to Rooney. “Hey, Jerk,” she said to the man just entering the room. “Rooney here was asking about your brother. Seeing as Brick’s so fearful of all things Bellam, I never expected to see either of you at the manor.”

  The big man scratched his cheek. “Well, I’m not Brick, now, am I, Sadie? The story of Hansel and Gretel sent little bro under the bed for a week. Me, I only cared about sinking my teeth into a big chunk of that gingerbread house.”

  Sadie had known Jerk and Brick for two years. When they weren’t hauling or tearing apart dead vehicles, they liked to tinker with old machines. They’d been tinkering with the printing presses at the Chronicle since before her uncle retired.

  Rooney winked at her. “Maybe Molly’s crystal ball’s on the fritz and she called Jerk here to fix it. Even she knows you’d never get the Brickman within a mile of this place on a night like this, not for all the whiskey in Ben Leamer’s—”

  “Corn,” Sadie inserted smoothly. Her eyes found Eli in the doorway. “Not for all the corn in Ben Leamer’s maze, Rooney. Is Molly’s crystal ball on the fritz, Jerk?”

  Brick’s bro
ther grinned. “Can’t say as I know why she asked me to come.”

  “I didn’t ask you to come,” Molly said from behind him. “You asked me if there was an empty seat.”

  “And then you asked him to come,” Sadie put in. “Which is why he’s here, undoubtedly against his brother’s wishes, but hey, you have to go your own way, right, Jerk?”

  The big man poured himself and Rooney a mug of tea. “I’ve seen that gleam in your eyes before, Sadie. You wanna punch someone in the balls, Eli’s made the rounds and he’s heading this way right now.”

  Rooney clinked his mug to Jerk’s. “If I were you, Sadie, I’d leave the ball punching to Ty. He looks hissy as a snake, don’t you think?”

  “Oh, this night’s going to be so much fun,” she predicted, then twirled in a half circle. “What about you, Lieutenant Blume? Are you up for a little fun?”

  “Only if the word fun has suddenly become a synonym for debacle.” He snagged a mouthful of Rooney’s tea before propelling her into a corner crammed with dusty, sheet-covered furniture. “This gathering is a ticking time bomb. You should be as far away from it as possible.”

  She sent him a guileless look. “Your suggestion might have worked out better if you’d mentioned it earlier. That way, instead of being here, Jerk could be playing pool with Brick, who’s completely freaked at the thought of his brother participating in a Bellam séance.” She pushed a meaningful fist into his stomach. “How long has Jerk been guard-dogging me?”

  Catching her balled fingers, Eli brought them to his lips. “Since you and Orley went into Ben Leamer’s corn maze and you came out with the news that a monster had been added to the mix.”

  Part of her softened, couldn’t help it. Another part resented his need-to-know attitude. “I thought we’d established that all murderers have monsters living inside them.”

  “They do, but I sense a growing separation of entities with this guy.”

  “We’ve established that, too, Eli. Monster wants me dead, stalker wants you dead.”

  Tipping her chin up with his knuckle, Eli stared into her eyes. “Which creates the very intriguing question, Sadie. Who is it that wants both of us dead?”

  * * *

  THE QUESTION HAUNTED her throughout the séance.

  As if an order had been placed for the occasion, the thunder that had been rumbling over the north woods crept closer. Rain lashed the windows and pummeled the old roof. The raft of candles Molly had lit fluttered atmospherically in a dozen different drafts. Even with Sadie knowing that not a single aspect of this was real, her fingers felt like ice when they joined with those of her tablemates.

  Rooney sat in apparent thrall, his eyes closed, his features thrown into skeletal relief by the center candle. Orley seemed annoyed, but surprisingly offered no snotty comments. Brady wore an expression that suggested his mind was elsewhere. Ty looked tense and a little uneasy. Molly might or might not have been in a trance. Jerk jiggled a leg in his chair—out of boredom, Sadie suspected, more than nerves. As for Eli, he watched the entire gathering without appearing to, and occasionally let a small smile cross his lips when her eyes slid to his profile.

  Keeping her own eyes firmly closed, Molly attempted to invoke her chosen spirit. “We call to the one who left our world too soon. We seek the knowledge she possesses. We seek truth. We seek—”

  The last word was swallowed up by a peal of thunder that made the lids of the teapots rattle.

  “You, who were threatened long ago, are dead in body. None among us can say why. But there is one in our realm who knows the truth. One who seeks to repeat his heinous act, who would commit to the afterlife another of your blood. If you can hear me, sister spirit, if you can help us, let your presence and your knowledge be apparent to all. Speak in whatever manner you choose. Send to us a sign that you are among us.”

  The candles flickered wildly as lightning split the blackness beyond the window. The table bumped. A second later, the door flew open, a blast of cold air rushed in and the candles blew out as one.

  It couldn’t have been more than two seconds before Eli’s flashlight flared. Yet in those seconds, chairs were shoved in all directions and feet clattered. A body—no idea whose—slammed into Sadie, who stumbled into Eli. The flashlight fell and rolled. Ty barked out an order while Jerk—she thought Jerk—grunted.

  Eli caught Sadie before she wound up on the floor. “Are you all right?”

  “What? Yes. I’m just... Where are we going?”

  “We need light.”

  It took them several seconds to access the wall switch. By the time the chandelier flared, everyone except Rooney was on his or her feet and scattered.

  “Okay.” Halfway across the room, Orley raised both hands. “That’s it, folks. That was one creepy interlude. I’m not a believer, but I swear, something cold and wet brushed across my face.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Ty scoffed. “It was the wind. A shutter blew open in the other room. That blew the door in, and the wind did the rest. Tell her, Eli. Someone’s playing a sick prank is all.”

  “I’d take it a step further and say someone wanted to scare the crap out of us. One of us more than the others, I imagine.” En route to the covered furniture, Eli crouched beside his great-grandfather’s chair. “You still with us?”

  “Didn’t spill a drop,” the old man replied with a toothless smile. He lifted his mug at Sadie. “Pure shinola.”

  “Sadie?” Molly ventured tremulously.

  Willing her heart out of her throat and a calm expression onto her face, Sadie exhaled. “It’s fine, Molly. I’m fine. I think Eli and Ty are right. Shutter, door, wet-wind effect, mass palpitations. And yeah, the crap pretty much scared out of us.” She regarded Rooney. “It was really good shinola.”

  Molly’s features remained ghost white in the dim overhead light. “I think we can agree that’s an ending. Someone or something did not like what we were doing.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t say that.” Sadie glanced at Eli and made a subtle gesture for him to look down. “Someone or something was nice enough to leave me a gift. Not in quite the same condition as the last time I saw it, but I imagine that’s the point.” Raising her hand, she let Nola’s locket dangle on its chain for everyone in the room to see.

  The once oval-shaped locket had been smashed so badly out of shape it was barely recognizable. And what she could see that the others couldn’t were the two chilling words that had been scored into the old gold backing.

  DIE WITCH!

  Chapter Sixteen

  Yes, she was rattled, but no way would she let it show.

  The sight of Nola’s locket, which, as far as Sadie knew, had been placed in a safe-deposit box at the local bank two years ago, wouldn’t have shocked her or anyone quite so much if it hadn’t been hammered flat.

  So, not merely struck once or twice with intent to cause damage, but rather bashed to within an inch of its life. Or metaphorically, she supposed, hers.

  It took the better part of two hours to search Nola’s rooms, clear out the guests and ensure that Rooney was transported safely home. On the way back to the manor, with rain bouncing off the roof of her Land Rover and thunder still rumbling, Sadie turned the ruined locket over in her palm.

  “I know this is the monster’s handiwork, but why does everything suddenly feel so tragic to me?”

  Eli glanced over. “Is that how it feels? I was thinking repressed violence myself. Teetering on the edge of insanity and building for an enraged final act.”

  “Huh.” She regarded the scored words in the next flash of lightning. “You got a lot more out of this particular message than I did. Or maybe than I wanted to. Now, on top of everything else, the killer—monster—whatever—has branded me a witch.” She couldn’t control the shudder that started in her belly and rose. “Does this
mean I’m facing the prospect of eighteenth-century torture tactics, or is it just an incredibly effective way to terrify the living hell out of me?”

  “I’d go with the second thing. The witch label’s the killer messing with your head.”

  “In that case, his gamesmanship’s bang-on, because I feel totally messed right now.”

  Eli’s next glance held an undercurrent of steel. “Dead’s not an option, Sadie, unless your twisted gift giver’s playing the part of the corpse.”

  “He rigged that shutter to blow open and the door after it, didn’t he?”

  They’d reached a fork in the woods. Braking, Eli reached over and turned her head until their eyes met. “Don’t let him do this to you. This is a killer acting out what he can’t physically achieve. It’s words, and him planting seeds of fear, then hoping they’ll take root so you’ll do something stupid.”

  “Like go to a séance in a house full of shadows and draped furniture and really bad lighting. The killer could have shoved a knife in my back as easily as he gave me this locket.”

  “No.” Eli kissed her lightly on the lips. “He really couldn’t.”

  “Trying very hard to believe you here, Lieutenant.” She waited through a lightning strike before asking, “Why?”

  “Your dress has pockets, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you discovered the locket inside one of those pockets.”

  “Again, yes.”

  “Did you find it because you felt it being slipped to you?”

  “No. I found it when I was helping you look for the light switch, and I bumped into a chair. I felt it—ah, right—on my hip. Got it.” The smallest of smiles touched her mouth. “The locket could have been placed in my pocket any time, even before the séance started.”

  “I’d put my money on before. Were you ever alone in the room?”

  “Not really. Molly and I were there together for a while.”