by Cindy Stark
Hazel emerged a good distance from her house and sighed in relief when she spotted Cora’s sedan parked near the corner of her street and Vine. She took off in an all-out run. She hadn’t realized until that moment how frightened she’d been.
She tugged on the handle of Cora’s passenger door, opened it, and fell inside. Her breaths echoed loudly through the quiet space.
Cora looked at her as though she was crazy. “Did you run the whole way?”
Hazel shook her head, trying to regain control of her breathing. “No. I thought I heard something a few minutes ago. It freaked me out.”
Cora locked the car doors and turned her wide-eyed gaze out the front window to the darkness that loomed around them. “Do you think someone is watching us?”
She shook her head, though she wasn’t entirely convinced. “What I do think is that we should get moving. Let’s get this done, and then we can both breathe easier.”
Hazel expected Cora to question her sanity once again, but she didn’t. Perhaps her friend also recognized the time for plotting and planning had ended, and they needed to act while the odds were still in their favor.
They drove in silence to the middle of town. Hazel pointed to the side of a quiet road two blocks from their destination. “I think we should park here. Leave some distance between us and the library.”
Cora met her gaze with questioning eyes.
Hazel shrugged. “You know, just in case someone notices your car and reports it.”
Her friend exhaled in sarcastic disbelief but still didn’t argue.
They exited the car and walked swiftly toward their target. Cora’s nervousness spread to Hazel, leaving her with guilt. “I should have done this by myself and not endangered you,” she said in a low voice. “It’s not like I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Cora shifted a sideways glance in Hazel’s direction. “Of course, you shouldn’t. You need me, so you can draw on my power to unlock the doors, and what would you have done if I didn’t drive? Walk here? Besides, you’re not in this alone, Hazel. This town belongs to all of us in the coven, too, and we should be backing you.”
Hazel sensed what she didn’t say. “But the others don’t want to.”
Cora looked away. “They’re scared.”
She nodded in understanding. The fear of what might become frightened her, too. “I think we all are.”
“But now is our chance to make a stand, to let others know that we’re good people, too, and that they don’t need to fear us.”
Cora’s words drew Hazel’s thoughts to Clarabelle and what she’d faced. Hundreds of years ago, the town had been torn apart by hatred. Witches had been persecuted for their heritage, and time hadn’t worked its magic in Stonebridge.
With that many years gone by without change, she didn’t suppose healing it now would be an easy feat.
They reached the library without incident and strode to the entrance. Hazel placed a reassuring hand on Cora’s arm. “I got this.”
“Wait,” Cora said. “No security system, right? You checked?”
Hazel remembered Samuel’s warning to Timothy to install an alarm after she’d been caught snooping and glanced for signs of a recently-installed security system. “I think we’re good. Timothy had made it seem like it would take a while for the town to make it happen.”
Cora nodded her approval to go ahead.
With that reassurance, Hazel inhaled a deep breath, closed her eyes, and repeated the spell that had allowed her to originally open Timothy’s chest. “Release your hold. Relax your guard. Let the strength within you free. Allow me entrance. Allow me to see. This I ask, so mote it be.”
Nothing happened.
Crushing disappointment weighted her down.
She replayed the words in her mind, wondering where she’d messed up.
Then the lock clicked.
She glanced to Cora who shrugged and tugged on the door. It opened, and no alarms shrieked in protest.
Cora released an impressed chuckle. “And to think I knew you when.”
Hazel grinned, her determination fully back in place. “Hush, and hurry before someone sees us.”
They were inside the building within seconds. Hazel pulled out her phone and used the dimmed light from the screen to illuminate their surroundings. Though nothing seemed amiss, uneasy sensations followed her like a shadow. “This way.”
Cora stayed close as they walked behind the counter and to Timothy’s office beyond. “This all seems too easy. Why didn’t we do it before?” she whispered.
“Because we would have been playing our hand too soon, remember? Before Olivia and Harriett ruined my wedding reception and forced me to show myself, we had the upper hand. Samuel and Timothy had no idea who was a witch or what we knew. There were no known threats. Things are different now.”
Cora exhaled. “That’s right. Sorry. Brain isn’t at full function yet.”
Hazel nudged her with a friendly elbow and stepped into the office.
A familiar tingle danced across her skin, and she relaxed. “Oh, good. Timothy’s box is still here. After he and Samuel had mentioned that someone broke in, I was half-afraid he might have moved it.”
Cora drew her brows together. “You’re sure it’s here? I don’t see it.”
She turned to Cora with a questioning look. “It’s camouflaged, but I can sense it. Can’t you?”
Cora studied the room and then shook her head. “No.”
Hazel didn’t know what to say to that. “I…really?”
Cora glanced about again and shrugged. “I don’t sense anything unusual.”
Hazel felt a flicker of surprise. It seemed her own sensing abilities were more attuned than Cora’s. “Maybe it’s Clarabelle’s diary that I feel. Because it belongs to my family.”
That made as much sense as anything, and she didn’t want Cora to feel bad that her intuitive powers weren’t as strong.
Cora pinned her with a gaze. “Show it to me, then.”
Hazel pictured the vintage wooden box and the contents inside. “Wherever you are, let me see. Show me your secrets, so mote it be.”
Cora gasped. “Oh, my stars. Look at that.”
“Told you.”
Cora growled. “That Timothy is a sneaky bugger, denying his magic but using it anyway.”
Every time she thought of the betrayal of her kind, she itched to call him on it. “Totally untrustworthy. Though I’d rather chance a meeting with him than Samuel, any day.”
She snorted. “Same.”
Hazel strode forward and pulled the hand-carved wooden box from the shelf with both hands and gave it a little shake to ensure Timothy hadn’t emptied it. The familiar sensation of being close to a family heirloom soothed her fears.
She nodded at Cora. “Let’s get out of here. This place gives me the creeps.”
Cora nodded her agreement. “I’m all for that.”
They were feet from the front door when police sirens echoed in the distance, piercing the quiet night.
Hazel froze and slid her gaze to Cora. “Do you think they’re coming here?”
Cora shook her head twice and then paused. “Why would they?”
Then she widened her eyes and stared at a spot over Hazel’s head.
Hazel quickly faced the doors leading outside. Directly above them, a tiny red light flashed incessantly, a silent scream that security at the library had been breached. “Son of a crunchy biscuit.”
She gripped the wooden box tighter. “We have to go. Now.”
Two
Hazel shoved the library door open with both her forearms and the weight of her body, and she and Cora rushed into the frigid night.
Outside, Hazel paused. “Should we run for the car and hope we make it, or find a place to hide?”
Cora glanced in the direction of the approaching sirens and tilted her head toward her car. “Car. Hide if we can’t make it.”
Hazel agreed. “Good. Go.”
She wrapped
her arms around Timothy’s box, and they ran as fast as they could across the street and down the block, with the contents jostling inside. She wished now that they’d parked a little closer.
The sounds of their shoes slapping the pavement mimicked Hazel’s thumping heart. She fought to keep her fear at bay, so she could keep a clear head.
The sound of a nearby car’s engine surprised Hazel. She swiveled her head to locate it, and a car with no headlights turned onto the street. Hot fear bolted straight into her heart. She’d been so focused on the sirens coming from the opposite direction that she hadn’t paid attention to what might be directly around them.
“Hide!”
Her fierce whisper left a puff of white in the dense air in front of her. She ducked behind a nearby truck, and Cora fell in beside her.
“I think it’s a police car,” Cora whispered, panic coloring her voice.
Hazel’s nerves tightened like someone had pulled a loose thread. “Oh, great.”
She plotted to push Timothy’s box beneath the truck if they were caught, hoping she might be able to come back later and collect it.
Cora scooted closer to her. “I think we might have hidden in time, though. It didn’t have its lights on, so the driver wouldn’t see us immediately.”
Hazel held her breath and hoped the car would pass them quickly.
Instead, it stopped close to the rear bumper of the truck.
Icy fear crackled through her. Cora gripped her arm.
“Get in.”
The low whisper of a man’s voice commanding them to move stunned Hazel.
She blinked in recognition and peeked from behind the truck. “Peter?”
He motioned frantically for them to do as he bid. “Get in,” he repeated.
She hurried toward the passenger’s seat and dove in, keeping Timothy’s chest cradled against her. Cora scrambled into the back seat of Peter’s cruiser.
He immediately put the car in drive and rolled forward. “Cora, get your keys ready. You need to move your car out of the vicinity as soon as possible. Take Elm Street. They’ll be coming from the opposite direction.”
Cora agreed with a quiet, “Okay.”
A few moments later, Peter pulled behind her car and stopped. “You have approximately twenty seconds to be out of here. Don’t turn on your headlights until you’re several blocks away. Go.”
Cora jumped out of his car and into hers with a good ten seconds to spare. She started her engine and pulled away.
Peter followed her for a block and then turned on a back road that would eventually wind around to Main Street and from there to their house on Hemlock.
Minutes ticked by, and Hazel searched for courage to speak. She couldn’t sense anger from Peter, but she couldn’t imagine he wouldn’t be mad, either.
Finally, she exhaled a low breath and prepared herself for the worst. “How did you know where to find me?”
He flicked a glance at her. “Because I followed you through the forest. Saw you get into Cora’s car, and then tracked it down.”
His answer surprised her. She’d been so sure he’d slept soundly. “You did? But you were asleep when I left.”
He sighed and shook his head. “Seriously, Hazel. Do you really think I wouldn’t be on high alert after several witches made my new wife a prime target for dangerous people? I’ve lost one wife to them. I don’t intend to lose another.”
Guilt slapped her like angry waves. She hadn’t considered Peter and how he’d react if something bad had happened to her. Sometimes, she could be so stupid.
“I’m sorry, Peter. I shouldn’t have snuck out of the house without telling you. But I—”
“No.” He held up a hand. “I’ll accept your apology, but don’t give me excuses. I thought we were in this together. You talk about our woven tapestry and a prophecy that says we’ll heal the town together, and then you go gallivanting out in the night alone. Unprotected, I might add.”
She dared a glance at him. “That’s why I took Cora with me. And you were there, too.”
He shot her a pointed look, and his anger touched her then. He was mad. He’d just been good at hiding it.
“I’m sorry,” she repeated, truly meaning it. “I obviously didn’t think it through. I woke in the middle of the night for the millionth time and realized that if I wanted Timothy’s box and what it held, I had to go tonight, before he thought to move it. Now that he and Samuel know about my heritage, everything will change. If I left it, I know I’d never see it again.”
Peter snorted, the soft sound echoing through the car’s interior. “All of this is true. But again, I’ll remind you that we were supposed to be a team.”
He pulled alongside the road, near where Cora had picked her up, and stopped.
She sat quietly for several long moments and then turned to Peter. “You’re right. I’m sorry that I’m not very good at this. I wanted to protect you, but I realize that in doing so, I hurt us. For that, my heart hurts. We are a team, Peter. The best team. And I promise I won’t forget that again. I trust you with my heart and my life, and I definitely trust you to help do this.”
He nodded then, and his features softened. “Good, because that’s what I want, too.”
She would have crawled onto his lap and kissed him, but the wooden box hindered her. “Let’s go home.”
He shook his head. “Nope. You’re getting out here.”
Her brows shot upward. “You’re making me walk home?”
“Earlier, I explained my leaving to my guy outside, and he didn’t question it. But if I show up with my wife who’s supposed to be safely locked inside the house, and worse, she has a mysterious box in her lap…well, you can see where that will lead. You’ll have to hike back through the woods and sneak in the same way you got out.”
She sighed and rolled her eyes. He was right. “It’s cold out there,” she complained.
He chuckled. “Didn’t seem to bother you before.”
She groaned and pulled the latch on the door. “Fine, but I expect to have a certain police chief ready to warm me up when I get there.”
He grinned. “Deal, Mrs. Parrish. Now, hurry up before someone sees us.”
She hefted the box and stepped out of the car. Chilled, moist air nipped her nose and fingers, and shivers vibrated her body. She supposed she deserved this penance after the trouble she’d caused.
Of course, the worst trouble would be yet to come when Timothy discovered his missing items. She imagined he’d go insane when he realized he’d been outmaneuvered. He’d know a witch had used magic to steal his chest, and, as far as he knew, she was the only one in town.
Still, she couldn’t feel sorry for the torment she’d cause him, not after all the trouble he’d created for the townsfolk.
The sound of Peter’s cruiser faded, and Hazel kept her senses on high alert as she hurried through the trees toward her house. Peter was expecting her and would come looking for her if she didn’t return, but that knowledge did little to ease her tightly-strung nerves.
Probably because she carted stolen contraband along with her.
And if Timothy would freak, Samuel would lose his ever-loving mind.
Then again, maybe Timothy hadn’t shared the contents of his box with Samuel. The crazed, older man loathed witches with every cell of his body, and she couldn’t picture him thinking Timothy’s use of witchcraft would be acceptable, even if it was to further his cause.
Hazel paused when she reached the edge of the trees that butted up against her backyard and exhaled in relief. Home at last.
The sound of muffled male voices drifted on the late-night air, and she paused to listen.
Peter. He was likely talking to the officer stationed outside their house for protection. It was also likely that by doing so, he would provide cover for her to get back into the house without notice.
Knowing this, she hurried across the grass as silently as she could. When she reached the back door, she shifted the box to one
arm and quietly twisted the knob. Once inside, she clicked the deadbolt back into place.
The house remained quiet as she tiptoed through the darkened kitchen and up the stairs to her bedroom. For now, she’d hide the box at the back of her closet, but come morning, she’d need to come up with something more secure. Now that she had Clarabelle’s diary safely in her hands, she wasn’t about to lose it again.
And she was positive Timothy wouldn’t let her keep it without a fight.
Granted, he couldn’t prove she was the one who took it, but she’d certainly be at the top of his list.
Once she had it hidden, she removed her hoodie, jeans and shoes and donned a fuzzy pink robe. She worked to make herself look sleepy as she descended the stairs again and strode toward the front door.
She peeked out the window to ensure it was only Peter and an officer, and then she unlocked and opened the front door. “Peter?” she called and followed it with a yawn. “Is everything okay?”
Her sweet husband graced her with a warm smile. “Everything is fine. There’s been some commotion in town at the library, but my men have it handled.”
She nodded. “Can you come back to bed then? It’s really late, and I can’t sleep without you.”
He tipped his head to her, asked his officer to keep him updated if necessary, and then crossed to the front porch with several long strides. She took his hand and led him inside.
“Everything okay?” he asked quietly as he bolted the lock into place.
“All’s well, and I think maybe I can sleep now.”
He chuckled. “After tonight’s adventures, I sure hope so. This certainly isn’t what I expected on my wedding night.”
She shot him a guilty grin as they headed toward the stairs. “I’m afraid marrying a witch might not hold the same peace as other marriages.”
At the top of the stairs, he lifted her into his arms. “Whatever it brings, I’m in it for the long haul. Though I wouldn’t mind peace at some point in time.”
She tilted her head against his shoulder and sighed. “Me, too.”
Three
When Hazel woke the next morning, the sun was high in the late October sky. Peter was no longer in bed beside her. Instead, a fat, fuzzy ginger lump rested on her chest.