Witch Way to Murder

by Shirley Damsgaard

  I stared out the window as Rick drove down the street. The bare trees were swaying in the wind, and the clouds were drifting in. It looked like the snow Abby predicted would be here before tomorrow night.

  I don’t remember Rick pulling in the driveway. I don’t remember screaming. But I do remember stumbling and falling and fighting him as he tried to stop me from reaching the porch.

  Those bastards killed Lady.

  Twenty-seven

  The ground was cold and hard beneath my knees. My sobbing shook my shoulders, and I covered my face with my hands. I was lifted to my feet and arms were wrapped around me, but I was so lost in my misery, no sensation other than warmth registered. Soothing words began to penetrate the misery, sounding jumbled and strained at first. They became clearer.

  “Ophelia, it isn’t Lady. It’s a coyote. Ophelia, do you understand?”

  I stepped back from the embrace and looked up at Rick’s face. “Coyote?”

  “Yes, but don’t look. Give me the keys to your house, okay? I want you to go sit in the car, and don’t look at the porch.”

  I handed Rick the keys from my pocket and allowed him to guide me to the car. I tried to do what he said, but my eyes were drawn to the carcass swinging on my porch. I watched while he stepped carefully around the poor animal and unlocked my front door. He came back a few minutes later and cut the rope. The animal flopped when it hit the porch floor. Rick turned and walked slowly back to the car. He opened the door and slid in beside me.

  “You watched, didn’t you?”

  I wiped the cold tears from my face. “Yeah. I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it.” I grabbed his arm. “Is Lady okay?”

  “Yeah, they were both upstairs and came running down when I stepped inside.”

  A sigh of relief escaped. “Rick, who would do such a sick thing?”

  “Somebody who wants you out of this. And wants it bad enough to do something like this in broad daylight. I called Bill. They’ll be right over.” Rick paused. “They’re getting desperate. I want you to leave town till this is over.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think you’ll understand, but I have to stay. It’s part of my destiny.”

  He smacked the steering wheel. “You’re right, I don’t understand.”

  Ever since my grandfather’s death I’d fought my so-called heritage, but now I knew it might be the only thing that would save me.

  “Look, that first night you were here in Summerset, Abby called me—”

  “But the phones were dead that night. I remember, I tried calling the paper.”

  “Abby made sure she called before they went down. She told me that night, I think, as she put it, the evil was growing and it would be up to me to stop it. You and I are in the center of the circle and will face danger. I tried leaving town once and Abby said I had to stay. I know that sounds crazy, but believe me, Abby knows. I’ve seen this happen too many times to discount what she says.”

  “Therefore, it’s your destiny. You’re right, it is crazy. You’re going to risk your life because your grandmother has some kind of vision?” Rick shook his head.

  “It’s not just what Abby thinks, I feel it, too. I have to stay and see it through.”

  “How do you know you haven’t already done what you were supposed to? You said the visions were vague, maybe you’re misinterpreting them?”

  “Rick, I appreciate your concern, I really do, but I know I have to stay. I don’t have any choice.”

  “Lord, you’re stubborn.” Rick studied me and frowned. “All right, you’re staying in Summerset, but I don’t think you should stay at Abby’s. What if they decided to come after you there? You sure as hell can’t stay here by yourself. So Ophelia, I hope you like having a roommate, ’cause I’m moving in till this is over.”

  “You can’t. Everybody in town will have a fit. We’d be the favorite topic at Joe’s.”

  “You know something, I don’t give a rat’s ass what people around here say. And the Irish can be just as stubborn as the Danes, so give it up. I’m staying. I’ll go get my things while Bill’s here.”

  A tap on the window drew our attention. Bill and Alan stood by the car, their faces grim. They motioned toward the house. We got out of the car and followed Bill to the porch. I watched while he turned the coyote over.

  “Ophelia, why don’t you go inside?” Rick said.

  I opened my mouth to argue. This habit of ordering me about was getting old. But after one look at Bill and Rick, I decided it would be a good idea for me to go inside.

  Lady rushed to my side when I walked in the door. Her whole body wriggled with excitement. She stayed at my heels while I walked to the living room. When I sat down in the wing chair, she curled up and laid her head on my feet. Bill found us sitting there several minutes later.

  “Don’t suppose you know who might have done this?”

  “No.”

  “Then do you want to tell me why you didn’t tell me about the letter or the smoke grenade or the fact someone was in your house snooping?”

  I sat silently staring at Lady. I didn’t have the courage to look at Bill.

  “I didn’t think so. Delaney will be right back; I hear he’s spending the night. I seriously thought about making you both guests of the county for impeding an ongoing investigation, until this is solved, but he talked me out of it. He assured me I wouldn’t be stumbling over the two of you anymore. You let us do our job.” Bill removed his hat and polished his bald head. “One more thing—we’ll be sending a car by Abby’s every so often.”

  My head snapped up. Abby. I made a move to stand, but Bill waved me down.

  “Sit still. Alan’s already talked to her, and he told her to stay put where we can find her. I don’t need a seventy-three-year-old woman out, running around the countryside, chasing bad guys, either.”

  My eyes shifted away from Bill and I saw Rick standing at the edge of the living room.

  “Thanks for leaving me to face Bill by myself,” I told him.

  “She must be feeling better.” Bill chuckled, glancing at Rick. Looking back at me, he said, “Don’t worry, Delaney got his on the porch. I’ll be sending a patrol car around at intervals.”

  “Thanks, Bill,” Rick said, shaking Bill’s hand.

  Bill paused at the door. “Oh, and, Delaney, try to keep her out of trouble.”

  “Sure thing, Bill,” Rick said, looking at me with determination.

  “You two act like I’m the one who’s guilty of something,” I said after Bill left.

  “Well, definitely guilty of lacking common sense. You really should leave town.”

  “Look, I explained that already. Do you want something to eat?” I said, standing.

  “Already taken care of—courtesy of Georgia. She’s bringing dinner over in a little bit.”

  “Oh, that’s just great. Georgia knows you’re staying here? Why don’t I put a sign in the front yard—‘Rick Delaney Slept Here.’”

  Rick laughed. “Don’t worry about it. I want everyone to know I’m staying here. Then maybe you won’t have any unexpected visitors.”

  I flounced into the kitchen to pout. Resentment over my life being controlled by two men ran through me. I opened a cupboard, and not seeing what I wanted, slammed the door shut. I opened another cupboard and slammed it shut, too. Leaning against the counter, I took a deep breath.

  “My mom does the same thing when she’s mad at my dad,” Rick said from the doorway.

  “What?” I turned and glared at him.

  “Slams the doors shut, paces the room, that kind of thing. Eventually, she tells Dad what’s bothering her and they talk about it. Do you want to talk?”

  I passed a hand over my tired eyes. “Not really.”

  “Okay. I’ll leave you alone, then. Would you mind if I started a fire?”

  “No, go ahead.” I hesitated, chewing on my lip. “I need some time to think.”

&nbs
p; “I’ll be in there if you change your mind.”

  I splashed water on my face. What was I missing? What did I know that had someone worried? How did all this tie together? And what about the girl? Who was she? If I could just remember the name of that damned song, it might help. The haunting melody played over and over again in my mind.

  I was concentrating so hard on the song, I didn’t hear the door open and close when Georgia brought the food. Rick found me still standing at the counter, thinking.

  “Dinner’s served. Want to eat in front of the fire? It’s a perfect night for it.”

  Rick had the living room arranged for dinner. The coffee table was cleared of all my knickknacks, and a big round candle burned in the center. The fire cast a warm glow around the room. The whole scene, under other circumstances, would have been very romantic.

  “Sit down, I’ll get plates and silverware. You don’t have any wine, do you?”

  “Beer.”

  “Beer works for me. I’ll get you one, too.”

  The aroma of Georgia’s cooking made my stomach growl. I inhaled deeply—lasagna. Georgia might have had her faults, but cooking wasn’t one of them.

  During dinner Rick talked nonstop. Lady’s and Queenie’s eyes watched his plate. They followed each bite from the plate to his mouth. When he thought I wouldn’t notice, he’d sneak them food.

  He told me about his life in Minneapolis, his family—youngest of six, baby of the family. Most of all he talked about his work. The passion he felt for it lit up his face. I smiled watching him.

  “I know what you’re trying to do.”

  “Yeah, what?” he asked, trying to look blameless.

  “You’re trying to distract me by giving me a running commentary on your life.”

  “That obvious, huh? Let’s don’t talk about drugs, militia, or dead sergeants tonight, okay? It will all still be there in the morning. And I did promise Bill we’d stay out of it.”

  “But—”

  “No, don’t say it. Here, give me that.” Rick took my plate. “Do you want another beer?”

  “No, but you have one if you want.”

  When Rick returned, I had moved to the couch and was curled under my afghan. Rick sat on the floor next to me and stared at the fire. He seemed lost in his thoughts while he drank his beer.

  While he stared at the fire, I stared at his profile. Golden shadows danced across his face, and I noticed how his dark hair gleamed in the soft light. I fought the urge to reach out and touch him. My skin felt flush, like all my blood had suddenly pooled near the surface.

  He frowned. “I’ve got a question. Is being a psychic why you don’t like to be touched?”

  “Let’s say I’ve had some very bad experiences along those lines,” I said, forcing my eyes away from him.

  Rick turned and knelt by the couch, his face level with mine.

  “Can you read minds all the time?”

  “What do you mean?” I raised my head.

  “Well, can you read my mind right now?”

  Staring into Rick’s warm brown eyes robbed me of speech. I shook my head.

  “No? Good.”

  He cupped my face with one hand while his other slowly, seductively, brushed a strand of hair away from my face. The touch was hypnotic. I was unable to look away, unable to see anything but him. My eyelids drifted shut.

  The touch was light at first, a brief brush of his lips across mine, but it crowded my senses. When the pressure increased, I felt the loneliness, the isolation, of the past four years melt away. The warmth grew and filled my heart. I wanted this. Maybe Rick would stay and I could have this warmth forever. All I had to do was let the wall I’d built around myself fall away, brick by lonely brick. But I couldn’t. Not now, maybe not ever.

  Even though the kiss lasted only a moment, it was long enough for me to know this wasn’t our time or our place. It wasn’t part of my destiny, or Rick’s. Like Abby had said, he wasn’t the one I sought. The warmth was replaced by a great sadness.

  Rick drew back and his eyes searched my face.

  “Wow,” he said softly while his thumb stroked my cheek. “Do all psychics kiss like that, or just you?”

  I shook my head and smiled. He saw something in my eyes and leaned farther back. The moment was gone.

  “I think I’d better get to bed,” I said, standing. “The spare room is down that hall to the left. Towels are in the linen closet next to the bath. Is there anything else you need?”

  “No, I’m fine, but if you don’t mind, I think I’ll have another beer and watch the fire for a while.”

  “That’s fine. Good night.”

  Rick gazed up at me. “Good night, Ophelia. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  At the foot of the stairs I glanced back. “You know, Rick, you’re not too bad yourself.”

  The sound of his laughter followed me up the stairs.

  Twenty-eight

  My head felt thick and fuzzy the next morning. Sleep, when it finally came, had been restless. The girl and the song wouldn’t leave me alone. I’d see her dancing with power and strength in the empty studio, then driving the red convertible with the top down, her blond hair whipping around her face, and finally, falling across the bed and striking her head on the nightstand. The scenes were an endless loop that ran through my mind all night.

  Abby said the light I saw above her body was her spirit leaving. And each time in my vision, when the light flickered out, I was filled with such regret and sadness.

  But the rage that struck me with so much force the first time I saw the girl dancing was absent. Did it mean something? I didn’t know, and the frustration ground at me.

  “You look tired,” Rick said when I entered the kitchen. He handed me a cup of coffee and pulled out a chair for me. “Do you want something to eat?”

  “No, coffee’s fine. I’m not really hungry.”

  “Are you going to work today?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you think you should? Wouldn’t it be better if you stayed home? I don’t know if you’ve looked outside yet, but it’s starting to snow. A good day to stay here, curled up under your afghan, don’t you think?”

  I smiled faintly. “Rick, I can’t hide in the house until Bill catches the bad guys. Work will be good for me. And as far as the snow, it won’t storm till late this afternoon.”

  “But the weatherman said—”

  I lifted an eyebrow.

  “Okay, you can do that, too, huh?”

  “Abby’s better. Her accuracy is amazing, far better than mine,” I said, and rubbed my temples.

  “Do you have a headache?”

  “No, not really. I didn’t sleep well. Darci told you, I keep dreaming about this girl—a young girl, a dancer. One minute she’s dancing, full of life, but the next she’s dying.”

  I told Rick about the dream, the girl, and the soldier.

  “Do you recognize the girl?” he asked when I’d finished.

  “No, but the soldier with her in the dream was stationed at Fort Arnold.”

  “You’re kidding. Fort Arnold? Same as Fisher?” Rick looked shocked.

  “Yup, Fort Arnold. I remembered the patch on his sleeve and looked it up on the Internet. Darci tried to find out if anyone around here has some tie to Texas, but the answer was no. I know this girl is the key. If I only knew who she was; it’s driving me crazy.”

  “Maybe work would be the best for you. It might take your mind off it.”

  “Yeah, I’m ready to go anytime you are. Since Agnes wasn’t home yesterday, are you going back over there today?”

  “Yeah, I’ve already called her. I’m going to her house after I drop you off at the library.”

  “Well, watch out for her cats. And you might want to pass if Agnes offers you food.”

  “Why?” Rick asked slowly.

  “Cat hair,” I said, and wrinkled my nose. “Gets in the food.”

  “Ugh.” Rick’s face turned pale.

  I
guess he did have a weak stomach. Grinning, I snatched my backpack from the table and headed for the door.

  While slipping on my coat, I noticed the bottom of the door was covered with deep scratches. Dang it, I’d have to hire Benny to fix them.

  When I walked into the library, Darci stood behind the counter. Nearby, Benny, screwdriver in hand, worked on a defective light switch. While he worked, he cast shy looks in Darci’s direction.

  Darci rushed over when she saw me. “I didn’t think you’d be in today. Are you all right?”

  “Yeah. I suppose it’s all over town about the coyote?”

  “Naturally, and Rick spending the night at your house. People saw his car in your driveway. Mrs. Carroll is shocked, by the way. More about Rick staying the night than the coyote, I think.”

  I frowned. “I’m not going to be lambasted by Mrs. Carroll or anyone else. I’ll spend the whole day in my office if I have to.”

  “Well, if you want to avoid them, Nina Hoffman called. I told her the books she ordered are in, but Adam doesn’t want her to drive in the snow. She asked if anyone could please bring them to her. You could do it. It would get you out of here for a while.”

  “I don’t have my car; Rick drove me.”

  “You can take mine if you want.”

  “You’ve got a deal,” I said, catching the keys Darci threw to me.

  The drive took about five minutes. The Hoffmans lived at the opposite end of town. And their house reflected Adam’s position in the community. A huge one-story glass and brick located on a yard the size of a postage stamp. Its numerous windows were covered with heavy blinds, always drawn tight, like eyes always shut. Everyone in town speculated what it looked like inside, but no one had ever been invited to visit. That would change if Adam followed through with his plan to run for mayor. Entertaining voters would be required.

  Nina answered the door before the doorbell had stopped chiming. Still in her robe, she looked fragile and wan as ever. I expected her to take the books and close the door, but instead she held it open.

  “Come in, Ophelia. Thank you so much for bringing the books to me, especially on a day like today,” she said, and closed the door behind me.