Kat searched Ken’s face. “You aren’t kidding.”
“Not in the least. You aren’t the only one who has trouble with commitment.”
“We are quite a pair.”
“Yes, we are.”
“I love you so much, Ken. You broke my heart when you questioned my motives.”
“And I’m sure I’ll hurt you again—not because I want to but because I’m just a man. I’m sure we’ll fight and even question our decision to get married.”
“Then why would you want to get married at all?”
“Because I’m more sure that we can make it through anything—together.” He squeezed her hand.
Kat wiped a tear away with her free hand. “What if you die?”
“I haven’t yet. And it sure isn’t for the lack of trying on the demons’ part.”
“True. Maybe you are tough enough for me to take a risk on.” Kat threw herself against Ken and kissed him hard.
Ken held her tight. “Just know I’m with you for the duration.”
Kat buried her head into his chest and nodded. “Okay, then. Let’s fight the bad guys. Then we get married.”
Kat squinted at the closed miniblinds in the large window of the police station. A shadow drifted by once, then glided past again. She crept up to the glass door and peeked inside.
Bart Andersen came into view, hands clenched behind his back as he twirled on his heel and started in the opposite direction.
Kat smiled and yanked the door open. “Been here long?”
“As a matter of fact, yes. I cut my date short, and she is mad.”
“A bit smitten, are you?”
“I enjoy her company.”
“This inability to express one’s true feelings is at epidemic proportions today—first Wendy, now you.” Not to mention myself. Kat looked up into her cousin’s chocolate-brown eyes. “Not having any twinges about Mandy?”
Red crept from the bottom of Bart’s neck to his jaw. “Not in the least.”
“Why don’t I believe you?” The telltale red and the faraway look in Bart’s eyes told her a different story. Memories of times gone by and dashed hopes of what could have been, cousin?
“Not in the least,” Bart growled.
The chime of the door stopped the conversation. “Strangest thing,” Ken said.
“Stranger than demons and Kumrandes?”
“No. But guess who’s running the antique shop?”
“I give.”
“Mandy.”
“Mandy Thomas? Where’s Annie?” Discomfort slammed Kat’s stomach.
“Mandy says she had to leave town for a bit. Says Annie hired her before she left.”
“I did tell her to get a job. Maybe she took my advice for once.”
“Maybe.”
“So, why is she in the shop now? It’s the middle of the night.”
“Says she was nervous about running the shop. She wanted to check it one more time.”
“That is out of character.”
“That’s what I thought. She reported another theft.”
“Of course she did. Did you check her person?”
Ken opened his mouth. Kat held up her hand. “Wait, don’t answer.”
A rare laugh escaped Ken. “I won’t.”
“So what’s missing now?”
“A small box. You know the one Paul said had the brass key in it? Mandy said she couldn’t find a receipt for it.”
“Did she happen to say if she called Annie to see if she sold it and forgot to leave the receipt where Mandy could find it?” Bart asked.
“She said she couldn’t reach Annie.”
Kat cocked her head toward Bart. “I think the lady wants attention. Probably hoped Bart would show up.”
“There’s a history I need to know about?”
“A very old history—done and done again. So why am I here and not on a date with my current girl?”
“Seems we have an answer to the bloodless corpse.”
Bart’s eyes lit up. “Great. Does it happen to be related to one human murdering another?”
“Not in this town’s lifetime. Seems the statue and everything else going on are adding up to a succubus.”
“We don’t do vampires. Not even in this town. Not even at Halloween,” Bart said as he, Ken and Kat walked to the back office.
Ken dropped into the chair behind the desk. It protested with a loud squeak as he turned it to the front. “I’d agree but Josiah related the name on the statue to the queen of the blood-suckers.”
Bart’s shoulders sagged. He sighed. “So where do we start? I haven’t seen any fresh dirt or new graves hereabout.”
The familiar tinkle of the front door interrupted the conversation. “Does it ever end?” Kat headed for the front office.
A breathless Arnie Thralling met her. “There’s some old witch hiding in the bushes outside my shop.”
Kat narrowed her eyes. “That’s a terrible thing to say! No matter how mad a woman made you.”
“No, Kat, I mean an old witch—bent over, gray hair, hook nose—the whole thing!” Arnie’s words ended in a shout.
Bart reached the reception area in two steps. He took in Arnie Thralling’s red face and wild eyes. “Someone dying, Arnie?”
“I almost did, and Kat’s not listening to me!”
Kat looked at Arnie for the first time. She took in the wild-haired, crazy-eyed man. She looked at Bart and Ken, then burst into laughter. “Why not? Weren’t we just discussing something even more unbelievable?” She leaned on the banister and wiped her eyes.
“This is not the time, Kat.” Ken’s scornful look did nothing to stifle Kat’s laughter.
“See what happens when you ask for an answer? We get a witch.” Kat giggled and cleared her throat in an attempt to gain control.
“Man, this isn’t funny. She was scary and I thought she was going to attack me!”
“Sorry, Arnie.” Bart quashed the smirk playing around the corners of his mouth. “At your shop you say?”
“I was putting out some garbage and she barreled down on me like a bat out of—well, you know. As far as I know she’s still there. I didn’t hang around to find out.”
Ken opened the door. The street was empty, dark threatening to cover the whole town in minutes. “No one out there, Arnie. How about you sit down, and I’ll get you a glass of water?”
Arnie plopped into a waiting-area chair. “I’m not hallucinating!”
Ken handed Arnie the water. Arnie gulped it down and set it on a small end table.
“Want another?”
Arnie shook his head. “I’m good for now.”
“How about you stay here with Kat, and we’ll go take a look around your shop?” Bart smiled at Kat.
“Stay here?” Kat asked.
“I like the idea,” Arnie said.
Kat sighed, clenched her jaw, and sent a sweet smile Arnie’s way. “Not a problem. I have a good book to read in instances just like this.” Kat walked around her desk, yanked the bottom drawer open, and took a dog-eared novel from a file folder. She plopped into her chair.
“I’ll call when we know anything,” Ken headed out the door.
“You know where I’ll be.”
“Thanks for doing this, Ms. Tovslosky. I’m not usually a coward but the old lady—or whatever she was—would have scared the holy angels.”
Guilt nibbled at Kat’s conscience. She put her book to the side. “You’re welcome, Arnie. There’s some old copies of Time and National Geographic sitting there. Help yourself.” The phone on Kat’s desk warbled.
“Hey, KittyKat, I can’t find Mandy. You guys have any luck?” Wendy asked.
“She’s not at the antique shop?”
“No. The place is locked up tight.”
“Maybe she went to get something to eat. Did you talk to Jo at the bakery?”
“I didn’t think of it. Mandy has me so upset.”
“Can I help?”
“You already
have.” Wendy hesitated. “Kat?”
“I’m here.”
“It’s a good thing Mandy has a job, right? Maybe she’s starting to turn around?”
“It’s a wonderful thing. Where are you, Winsome?” Kat heard the distinct sound of Bart’s truck through the phone.
“Just leaving the antique shop. Why did I just see your cousin and fiancé speed by?”
“Long story.”
“I’ll bring you mocha and you can tell me all about it.”
“Not necessary.”
“I need to see if Mandy’s at Jo’s so it’s no trouble.”
Kat smiled. “I’d love it. Would you bring a coffee for Arnie Thralling, too?”
“Arnie’s there? This must be good. Coffee and mocha it is.”
Kat looked at Arnie. “I can hardly wait to hear the gossip on the streets of Ravens Cove tomorrow.”
The oversized shop door gaped open and spilled fluorescent light into the deepening twilight.
“Something spooked Arnie. He’s too money-conscious to leave every light on. The original Scrooge,” Bart said.
Ken ducked into the Quonset hut Arnie used as a workshop. A quiet whistle escaped Ken’s lips as he took in the stacks of wood planks and boards. “He likes his wood.”
“He’s obsessed with it.” Bart pointed to an unfinished boat sitting on a makeshift scaffold.
“An old one, isn’t it?” Ken looked at the teak railings topping the sides of the sailboat.
“Refinishing aged watercraft is his specialty.” Bart ambled over to the pile of rough lumber and unclipped his cell from the belt.
“Need my help?” Kat asked.
“As a matter of fact.”
“I’ll be right there.” Kat stood up and released her windbreaker from the back of her chair.
“Not here.”
“Oh.” Kat dropped back into her seat.
“Ask Arnie if he picked up the hag tree at the ravine.”
“Just a second.”
“Well, I’ll be. It sure as heck looks to be the same.” Ken touched the wood. “Right down to the weird hollow.”
“The man won’t pass up a free anything—just look around.” Bart pointed his chin at the sacks of sand and various tools lining the walls. Fishing nets were stuffed in between a stack of wood and steel.
“Bart, you there?”
“Right here.”
“Arnie says he did. Didn’t think it’d do any harm, and he always needs scrap wood.”
“Thanks.” Bart put the phone back into his pocket. “It’s the hag tree.” Bart touched the pale-gray bark. “Is it me or is this thing seeping?”
Ken followed Bart’s finger. A black and red liquid oozed from the trunk. Ken pushed an index finger into the soggy wood. Yellow light sparked in response.
“That does not bode well.” Bart shook his head. “Not well at all.”
The tree shivered, then quaked. Ken jumped back when a gnarled root burst out of the trunk’s base and snaked toward the corrugated metal of the workshop’s ceiling.
“It’s regenerating itself!” Bart hit speed dial on his phone.
“Who are you calling—a tree service? The thing’s lying on its side.”
Bart punched end and pointed again. “Not anymore.” The root dropped to the floor. It burrowed through the sawdust covered wood planks. Half of the tree pulled itself upright.
A deafening crack filled the air. “You’ve got to be kidding.” Ken’s face paled when the twin half of the trunk sprouted a large tuber and tunneled into the floorboards. Ken and Bart shuffled backward in an unprepared dance step when the trunk sprouted tendrils and knitted itself back together.
“How can this be happening?”
“What do I look like? A dictionary for the strange and awful?”
“You are cursed!”
Ken whirled toward the shrill scream. An old woman shook a chopped-down cane and birch wood bowl at Ken and Bart, then vanished.
Bart turned to Ken. “Well, I’ve seen stranger things.”
“Maybe she’s the hag from the tree? It would explain why she was after Arnie.”
“I don’t think so—she reminds me more of a messenger.”
“From who?”
“Well, I’d say Iconoclast, but that’s a no for obvious reasons. From Lilith?”
Ken sighed. “Why not?” He turned back to the tree. “Damnation, did Arnie have to bring the whole thing here?” The top of the tree hung in midair. Four ashen cords erupted from the base, reminding Ken of jagged tendons on a severed neck. The tree’s headpiece floated toward its base and slid onto the trunk. The gray sinews wove in and out of the trunk, filling gashes left by Arnie’s saw. Dead leaves snapped open.
Bart shook himself. “Wrong on so many levels.”
The ground quaked, then heaved. The roots yanked up and out, and the tree lurched forward.
Ken jogged over to Bart.”Got the tree service number?”
“Don’t have one here, brother, and don’t have a saw, either. I think we’d better make a run for it.”
“Agreed.” Ken bolted toward the door.
“Don’t stop!”
“No choice.” Ken pointed at three silver-furred, yellow-eyed creatures blocking the exit.
Bart slapped his hip where a flashlight should be. The loop was empty. He whirled around and heard the distinct groan of bending metal. The tree jerked forward. Pieces of steel and plastic lay in its wake. Bart turned back to the door.
The Kumrande stepped forward, whirled around, and scattered.
“What made them run?”
“Don’t know. Just grateful.”
Ken and Bart took off into the night toward the police station.
“Mortals are so gullible.” Pet came out of the trunk.
A black shadow unwrapped itself from the tree and stretched skyward.
“Get this tree back to its home and find the spirit who inhabits it!”
“As you wish.” Adumbration bowed.
Pet lifted his hands and Adumbration twisted like a sooty cord around the trunk. The tree rose from the ground and floated forward. It bent to clear the Quonset’s doorway then streaked into the air, plummeted to the ravine, and stopped a few feet above ground. The roots burrowed down into the hard dirt at the head of the pathway.
A creaking wind announced Pet’s arrival. He jetted around the tree and hovered at the gaping hole in the trunk. “Find the one who murdered the tree and released the spirit. Bring him to me.”Adumbration nodded and flew into the night.
Chapter 13
An Unlikely Victim
The violent bang of the glass door brought Kat to her feet. Ken rushed into the waiting area, doubled over, and took deep breaths. Bart plopped into a chair next to Arnie.
Kat’s eyes went from Ken to Bart. “What happened?”
“Hag tree—moved.” Bart blurted out between fast breaths.
“The sucker’s in pieces—ain’t no tree anymore,” Arnie spat.
“It’s whole now.” Ken’s dilated eyes sent an electric shock up Kat’s spine.
She gripped Ken’s arms. “What happened?”
“The tree put itself back together—and then it walked! If we hadn’t gotten out of there, we’d be roadkill right now.”
Kat crossed her arms. “Okay, this has crazy or stupid practical joke written all over it. Which one is it?”
“Neither,” Bart and Ken said in unison.
Bart turned. “Arnie, you were right. Some old witch-like broad came out of nowhere, shook a cane and bowl at us, threw a curse our way, and disappeared into thin air.”
“Told you I ain’t a coward.”
“The sight of a walking tree could have made me screech like a little girl, I’ll tell you,” Bart said.
“I’m sure I heard a high-pitched shriek—and it wasn’t from me.”
“Wasn’t me, either,” Bart blasted back.
“Glad you’ve recovered your sense of humor so quickly but enough, you
two.” Kat shoved a glass of water into Ken’s hand, then Bart’s.
“Did you say a bowl and cane?” Kat asked.
“I did.”
“Like a birch wood bowl and cane?”
Ken raised thoughtful eyes to the ceiling. “As a matter of fact, yes.” Bart’s eyes lit up. “You think they’re the ones reported missing by Annie?”
“Could be.”
“Well, one mystery solved.”
“Only to have it replaced by a more terrifying one.”
Bart shrugged and gulped the water before handing the glass back to Kat. “Thanks. I didn’t realize the run from Arnie’s shop had made me so thirsty.”
“Anything happen while we were on this latest excursion into the macabre?” Ken asked.
“A few things, actually.”
Ken massaged his right temple. “Okay. What have we got?”
“Doc Billings called about the one-legged corpse. Seems it’s gone missing.”
“The leg?”
“No. The whole body.”
Ken brought his other hand up and began to massage both temples. “I suppose he’s sure it didn’t get picked up by the Anchorage ME’s office while he was out?”
“I asked. He called them. It was on their schedule for tomorrow.”
“I’ll add finding a missing body to the to-do list. What else?”
“Doc Billings said he got the results back on the IV bags at the hag tree—they were filled with Grady Spawldine’s blood.”
“I’ll check that part of our mystery off the list. Next.”
“Josiah called. Said Paul remembered something about the box’s key.”
“Guess Pastor Lucas’s house is our next stop.” Bart turned to Arnie. “How about I drop you off at Amos’s?”
“That’d be good. I should tell him what’s happenin’.”
“Think we’d better stop at Gram’s first. She called. Says we never eat right, and she’s holding a late dinner for us.”
Bart sighed. “We need to find Paul.”
“Well, I’m not incurring her wrath. Drop me first.”
Bart’s stomach rumbled. “I can call him. Let’s go.”
Kat grabbed the mocha off her desk. “Wendy brought us some refreshments while we were waiting.” She lifted her cup to Ken and smiled.
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