“Oh, my gosh,” Darci exclaimed. “Someone killed him and dumped him in the lake?”
“Yes.”
“What about the cord?” I asked.
“The end was frayed, like the cord had been rubbing against something repeatedly until the friction wore it through and it snapped. They think his foot had been tied to some kind of weight. The sheriff asked the divers to go down and try and recover it.”
I studied Rick’s face. “Did they find it?”
“I don’t know,” he said with a slight shrug. “We left and brought the body back to shore, where the medical examiner’s van was waiting to take it to the hospital morgue.” His mouth twisted in a wry grin. “The sheriff wants the part about the rope kept quiet. He strongly suggested that I not mention it in any report I send to the newspaper.”
Abby had listened to Rick’s story without comment. Finally she spoke. “Rick, I think it would be best if we went back to Iowa.”
He dropped his head for a moment. Raising it, he met Abby’s eyes. “I know. I promised there wouldn’t be any danger, and now there’s a murder.”
Abby shook her head. “No, Rick, it’s not the murder. I’m sorry Mr. Hobbs met an unfortunate end, but right now I’m more concerned about protecting my granddaughter.”
Me? Why did I need protection?
I stared at her in confusion. “Abby? What are you talking about?”
Abby watched me, her face full of love. “You asked me earlier about what I sensed—”
I broke in. “Yeah, but you said you didn’t know.”
“I don’t know. At least I’m not certain about what I’m picking up, but we’ve both felt things. I don’t know if what we’ve felt is human in origin or not.” Her eyebrows knitted together in a frown. “I’m not sure if what I feel is tied to Brandi’s disappearance or Duane Hobbs’s murder. But whatever it is, whatever is hiding in the shadows, is waiting. Waiting for an opening to attach itself to someone…”
When she hesitated, my gaze traveled from Abby to Rick to Darci. They all had the same worried look on their face.
“And, my dearest granddaughter, that someone is you.”
Twenty-four
I held up my hand. “Whoa—time out. What do you mean ‘it’ wants to attach itself to me? What’s ‘it’?”
Abby pursed her lips, thinking. “Some kind of energy, and that energy is centered on you.”
I gave a nervous laugh. “You make it sound like I’ve got a bull’s-eye painted on my back, or something.”
“You do,” Abby said in a no-nonsense voice.
Jumping to my feet, I paced the deck. “Well, that’s just peachy, isn’t it?” My hand went to the talisman amulet I wore around my neck. “What about this?” I said, drawing the necklace out. “Doesn’t my amulet protect me?”
“To a degree, but the fire agate is more for danger coming from a human source.”
I skidded to a stop. “Human source as opposed to nonhuman source?”
Abby nodded. “I think so.”
“A ghost?”
She chewed her bottom lip while she thought. “No. What little I’m picking up isn’t tied to an earthly plane.”
I fisted my hands on my hips. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means an entity that’s never lived on earth,” she said calmly.
“A psychic nasty?”
“A what?” Darci broke in.
“Negative energy that exists outside of the realm we live in. A disembodied spirit.” I glanced at her quickly before turning my attention back to Abby. “How could this happen?” I resumed my pacing. “You smudged the cabin, put salt around the outside. We’ve always been careful, been prepared before opening up to any energy. I don’t understand.”
“Were you prepared before you tried breaking the field you felt around the cabin?”
“No,” I mumbled. “Whatever’s around that cabin took me off guard. The energy felt warm and safe, almost seductive—”
“So you relaxed?” Abby interjected.
I stopped and crossed my arms. “Yeah, I did.” I hesitated. “Great,” I said, throwing my hands in the air. “You’re telling me whatever I encountered decided to follow me home.”
“Yes.”
Goose bumps prickled my arms. “That means it’s already attached itself to me.”
“No, not yet,” she replied.
I stared at Abby, confused. “But you just said—”
She held up her hand to stop me. “It’s circling around you. The energy isn’t strong enough yet to firmly attach to you.”
“But it’s looking for a chink in my psychic armor to slip through?”
“Exactly.” She appeared relieved that I finally understood. “And it’s draining your energy in the process. I think that’s why you’ve been having headaches and a queasy stomach.”
I shuddered. “It’s feeding off me. Like a vampire.”
“Um-hm. A psychic vampire.”
Oh brother! I crossed to the railing and looked out over the water. So peaceful, so lovely. What had I done? What had I, in my stupidity, released to create havoc among all this beauty? Talk about a Pandora’s box.
I shifted sideways and leaned a hip against the railing. “Abby, have you ever dealt with anything like this before?”
Her eyes took on a faraway look. “A long time ago, in the mountains, before I married your grandfather.” She directed her attention back to me. “But my mother and grandmother were the ones who handled the problem. I only helped.”
Rick cleared his throat. “Abby, I don’t understand half of what you’ve said, but if you think Ophelia is in any danger, normal or paranormal, I think she should leave.”
I whirled around. “No.”
“No?” Rick jumped to his feet. “Have you been listening to your grandmother? If I’ve got what she said straight, some kind of evil entity is after you. Aren’t you scared?”
I shrugged. “A little…”
“A little?” Rick exclaimed. “If I were you, I’d be scared sh—” He glanced at Abby. “Ah, spitless.”
“Okay.” I looked down and scuffed the deck with my foot. “Maybe I am more than a little scared.” Raising my head, my eyes met Rick’s. “But whatever’s creeping about, I helped release it.” I turned back to Abby and gave her a determined look. “How do we send that sucker back where it belongs?”
Abby’s face glowed with pride. Standing, she rubbed her hands together. “First of all, I need to do some reading.”
“You have your journals?”
“You bet I do—several of them,” she said emphatically. “I didn’t know what we were going to find when we got here. Only a foolish person would go into a battle without their weapons.”
I smiled and put my arms around her. “And no one would dare call you foolish,” I said, giving her a hug.
She stepped back, her face stern, but a spark gleamed in her eyes. “Not if they knew what was good for them,” she said with a wink. Turning away from me, she marched over to the door, took a deep breath, and walked inside.
“Well,” Darci said, rubbing her hands on her legs. “I need some bright lights and music. Anyone want to go into Melcher?”
I rolled my eyes. How many bright lights were there in a town of four hundred? But I understood her need to get away from what we’d witnessed that day.
“Thanks, but no thanks. I’ll stay here with Abby. I still think she’s acting a bit strange.”
Darci glanced at Rick. “You?”
He held up his hand. “I’m beat. I’m going to hang around here for a while, and then head back to Brainerd.”
Darci swung her legs off the chaise lounge and stood. “I noticed a decent bar this morning. Maybe I’ll run into some of my friends from the coffee shop.” She moved to the door.
“Hey, Darci,” I called after her. “Be careful.”
She flipped me a thumbs-up and glided through the door.
“She’s something else, isn’t she?�
�� Rick said with a wry grin.
“You bet she is.” I returned his grin and sat on the chaise Darci had vacated.
We sat in silence watching the sun drop below the pines. The evening star shone bright in the deepening twilight.
Wow, Rick Delaney and starlight. Talk about romance.
I smiled to myself at the thought.
Rick’s voice broke the quiet. “What’s so funny?”
I leaned my head back and watched the darkening sky. “Nothing. You probably wouldn’t see the humor.”
“I’ve got a sense of humor,” he said defensively. “I…” His voice trailed off as the call of a loon sounded in the distance.
I glanced over at him. “Their call has to be one of the most haunting sounds I’ve ever heard.” Thinking about what I said, I made a face. “Maybe ‘haunting’ isn’t the best word to use right now.”
Rick laughed softly. “Not after what Abby said.”
“Do you believe in all of this?” I asked suddenly.
“Believe in all of what?”
“Disembodied spirits, ghost lights, you know,” I said, wiggling my fingers at him. “Woo-woo stuff.”
“I don’t know.” A smile tickled the corner of his mouth. “By hanging with you, Jensen, I’ve seen some pretty uncanny stuff. Why?”
I exhaled slowly and stared at the sky. “It would be nice to think someone believed, because my gift’s real.” I thought of Henry. “And not only when it suited their purpose and they had something to gain. To understand my talent for my sake.”
“Unless they’re a psychic, I don’t know if anyone really can understand what you and Abby can do.”
“Maybe if they cared enough,” I replied.
“You’ve changed, Jensen,” Rick said abruptly, changing the subject.
Puzzled, I stole a glance his way. “What do you mean?”
He turned and studied me in the fading light. “You seem more comfortable, more at ease with who you are.” A quick grin flashed across his face. “You’re still a little prickly, and I think you worry too much—”
“Thanks,” I said, and grimaced.
“But you don’t have that wall around you anymore,” he finished.
I thought about his observations. “You’re right. I don’t, and I suppose I owe you for that. If you hadn’t pulled me into the deal with Adam Hoffman, I’d probably still be hiding from who and what I am.”
“Are you happy?” he asked.
“Yes—most of the time. I’m more at peace. There’s still so much I have to learn about myself. I get frustrated…” My voice faded while I thought of all those years I’d wasted because I was too stubborn, too afraid of my talent, to listen to Abby. “I have a lot of catching up to do,” I said, smiling. “What about you? Has your life changed in the last six months?”
“Ahh, I need to explain something to you, Ophelia.” Rick fidgeted in his chair. “Last fall, in Iowa, we came close to dying. That brings people together…”
“But?” I asked, arching an eyebrow.
What Rick was about to say came to me in a flash. And I wasn’t surprised. What did surprise me was how I felt. Okay. I felt okay about what he was going to tell me. No remorse, no regrets, no heart twinges.
But instead of telling him my thoughts, I decided to let him squirm a bit. Make up for all those times he teased me relentlessly.
“You see, there’s this, ahh…”
I filled in the blank for him. “Woman?”
“Yeah, and—”
“You’re engaged.” I broke in again.
“Yeah.” He sounded bewildered. “How did you know?”
“Psychic, remember?” I said smugly.
He shook his head. “I hate it when you do that.”
I chuckled. “Sorry.” I reached over and gave him a friendly punch in the arm. “Quit worrying about it. We’re friends.”
“We are, aren’t we?” he said, his face serious.
“Yes, we are.” I smiled. “Are you happy?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s her name?”
“Gina.”
Rick wasn’t exactly waxing poetic about his beloved. I felt like a prosecutor going after a hostile witness. I gave it one more shot.
“What does she do?”
“Well, ahh…” His voice trailed off.
Oh, no. I remembered the first day I’d met Rick. I’d told him he probably dated models, cheerleader types.
I narrowed my eyes in amusement. “No, don’t tell me, she’s a model, right?”
I watched his head bob up and down in agreement.
My laughter reverberated across the water.
Boy, did it feel good.
Twenty-five
The next day my morning ritual changed—Abby was up and in my spot on the deck. I had to make a choice. Do I announce the news of Rick’s engagement or not? Not, I decided. The news was his to tell, and with so much going on, I didn’t want to be in a position where I had to reassure both Abby and Darci that my heart wasn’t broken.
I plastered a smile on my face. “What are you doing up so early?” I asked, sliding the doors closed and joining her on the deck.
The shirt she wore over her jeans looked rumpled, and her hair was haphazardly twisted in a loose coil at the back of her head. When she glanced over her shoulder, I saw the effects of a troubled sleep on her face.
“Abby,” I said, crossing swiftly to where she stood. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She gave me a weak smile. “I stayed up too late reading about psychic attacks.”
“That’s in your journals?” I was surprised; some of those journals were over sixty years old, and I didn’t think they covered such things.
“The journals refer to what’s happening to you as hauntings, evil spirits, and demon possession, that kind of thing.”
Demon possession? Wonderful.
Abby noticed my expression and grinned. “Don’t worry; the journals contain arts and remedies to deal with the problem.”
I’d read some of those old remedies, and some recommended burnt feathers and chicken feet.
I gave her a skeptical look. “We’re not going to do anything bizarre, are we? No chicken feathers?”
“No, dear,” she said, her voice reassuring. “No animal parts. Just the usual—herbs, candles, and crystals. Maybe a few intentions written on a piece of paper.” She sighed. “I wish I knew the origin of what’s going on.”
I scowled. “We’re back to that ‘human versus nonhuman’ thing, aren’t we?”
“We could be dealing with both. It could be someone is using the negative energy, the negative entity, around the cabin and directing it toward you—”
I cut her off, “Someone ill-wishing and using the bad energy to give the spell a little extra punch?”
She nodded slowly. “Yes, and if that’s the case, it would be helpful if I knew who’s responsible.”
“I know,” Darci said, stepping out onto the deck.
Abby and I turned in unison and said at the same time, “Who?”
Still dressed in pajamas covered with big red hearts, Darci strolled over to a chaise lounge and flopped down. “Walks Quietly.”
I rolled my eyes. “Okay, Sherlock, how’d you come up with that?”
Darci studied her bright red nails. “Easy. He hated Duane Hobbs, he doesn’t like you, he knows magick, and according to both of you, he’s got the juice.”
“Got the juice?” I said, my tone bewildered.
She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “Yeah, you know the juice, the jazz, the power…” Her voice trailed away.
“Oh, you think he’s psychic?” I said, nodding.
Darci tossed her head. “Yeah.”
My eyes met Abby’s, my question written on my face.
Abby shook her head. “I don’t know. We all agree he’s very powerful, but whether or not he’s psychic?” She shrugged.
I exhaled slowly. “Darci, duri
ng all your deducing, did you recall what Abby said yesterday about the Finches? About practicing magick?”
“Yes,” she said, with a defensive ring to her voice.
“Maybe they’re involved. The abandoned cabin is on their property. Their niece is wearing a necklace that probably has some kind of spell on it. They’re involved in psychic research. And,” I said, emphasizing the word, “they were the last ones to see Brandi.”
“Oh pooh.” Darci’s lip came out in a pout. “So maybe it isn’t Walks Quietly.”
My right eye twitched. “And maybe it isn’t the Finches. And maybe Brandi is cozied up somewhere with a guy she met at a bar. And maybe,” my voice rose, “maybe what happened to me at the abandoned cabin was my imagination, maybe—” I stopped abruptly.
Frustration laced with anger slammed through me. To my ears, I sounded as if I was beginning to doubt my own sanity. Doubt Abby.
“I’m tired of this,” I said. “We’ve been wringing our hands and worrying. We haven’t accomplished a thing.” I strode over to the doors. “I’m getting some answers and I’m getting them now.”
“Wait, Ophelia,” Abby called out. “Where are you going?”
“Walks Quietly’s. And he’s going to tell me what he knows,” I said in a determined voice. “And when I’m done with him, I’m talking to the Finches.”
Darci jumped up and grabbed my arm. “Wait a second, he doesn’t like you. You can’t go barging up there and force him to talk to you.”
I shook off her hand. “Oh yeah? Just watch me.”
She tugged on my sleeve. “What if he is behind all of this? You won’t be safe.”
“If I’m not back in thirty minutes, send the cops.” I shoved open the doors. “I’m going to see just how much ‘juice’ this guy’s got.”
I made a quick stop in my room and loaded up with crystals, shoving every rock I owned in my pockets. I may have been mad, but there was no sense in being foolish. I didn’t know what kind of tricks Walks Quietly might have up his sleeve, so I’d take all of mine with me.
With the stones rattling all the way, I reached Walks Quietly’s little house in five minutes. I found him in his yard, standing by his woodshed.
The Trouble with Witches Page 17