No Crones About It

by Amanda M. Lee

  “I don’t think it’s an accident that he showed up here,” Gunner said finally. “Someone is trying to send a message.”

  “To Scout?” Graham appeared intrigued at the prospect. “Why would she be the focal point?”

  I briefly wondered if Gunner would admit to our run-in with the wolves. He didn’t — hardly surprising — and instead shrugged.

  “I don’t know,” he said finally. “Word might be spreading that she’s more powerful than the average witch. That could draw in looky-loos.”

  Graham looked up at the sun. I could tell he didn’t believe the line of bull his son was spouting. To my surprise, he didn’t challenge Gunner. “Well, I guess we’ll have to keep our eyes open. We don’t want Hawthorne Hollow’s newest resident to get in over her head, do we?”

  Gunner was grim. “Definitely not.” He held out his hand to me. “We’re going to be looking into this, too. I assume she’s free to leave since she’s not an official suspect.”

  Graham didn’t look happy at the prospect, but he ultimately nodded. “Take her. Just make sure to watch her back.”

  “Don’t worry about that. I’ll be all over her.”

  That was a frightening thought.

  GUNNER AND I SET UP SHOP behind the coffee shop. I slammed a huge mocha latte before asking the obvious question. The caffeine made me more jittery, but I needed the liquid energy.

  “It has to be the other wolves, right?”

  “That would be my guess, but we don’t have proof of that.” His expression was hard to read, but when he extended his arm and slipped it around my shoulders I happily gave in to the emotion flowing through me. He wanted to soothe ... and I needed it. “Are you okay otherwise?”

  I nodded into his shoulder, taking a moment away from the prying eyes of others to collect myself and draw on his strength. He was already bolstering me, which seemed somehow miraculous. “I’m fine.”

  He used his finger to nudge up my chin so he could stare into my eyes. Apparently happy with what he found — there was no mental breakdown lurking in the shadows — he nodded. “Okay.” He kissed my forehead and then pulled away. Now was not the time for smooching games under a tree. “I already texted Rooster. He’s sending the new guy to check out the scene.”

  I was taken aback. “What new guy?”

  “The new Spells Angels recruit.”

  That wasn’t really an explanation. “I didn’t know there was a new recruit.” Something occurred to me. “Is he here for my position?”

  Gunner jerked his head in my direction, surprised. “No. He was always scheduled to come here.”

  “Oh.” That was good. At least I thought so. I wasn’t ready to be pushed out.

  “We want you here,” Gunner insisted. “Don’t ... do whatever it is you’re doing. I can only take one crisis at a time and I’m assuming that face you’re making is because you think we’re trying to replace you. No one wants to replace you.”

  His vehemence was enough to make me smile. “Are you sure you’re not speaking only for yourself? I know you don’t want me to leave. The others, though ... .” I thought of Marissa’s reaction during the showdown with the siren. “Some of the others might not be so keen to keep me.”

  “Screw Marissa!”

  I laughed at his ability to read my mind. “It’s not just her. Rooster wasn’t exactly happy with me either.”

  “Rooster wants you here. He told me that. He’s impressed with your talent. He simply wants to mold your attitude a bit. Don’t let Marissa throw you. She does this to every member of the group.”

  That made me feel better, if only marginally. “Well, tell me about the new guy.”

  “He’s weird.”

  We were essentially a gang of monster hunters on motorcycles — most of us with varying degrees of emotional trauma — so that wasn’t exactly a defining explanation. “Be more specific.”

  “I think you should just meet him for yourself.”

  That sounded ominous.

  CRAIG “DOC” DAVIDSON WAS MOST definitely weird. That was easy to ascertain at first glance. His movements were jerky and he had trouble making eye contact. That didn’t mean he wasn’t brilliant.

  “Look at the eyes,” he noted, his brown hair swept back from his interesting face. He wore glasses, the sort that made him look like a professor, and his attention was completely focused on the body rather than the cops buzzing around the scene. He was, in a word, fascinating.

  He was also weird.

  “What about the eyes?” Gunner asked. If he was bothered by the odd way Doc interacted with his environment, he didn’t show it.

  “They’re frozen and open.”

  I pursed my lips. “Isn’t that normal? I mean ... I’ve seen my fair share of bodies and while that’s not always the case, I can’t say this is the first time I’ve seen something similar.”

  “Yeah, but they were purposely frozen that way.”

  Gunner and I snared gazes before turning back to the body. Now that Doc mentioned it, there was something off about the eyes.

  “The pupils look fixed or something,” I said finally. “What would cause that?”

  “Magic,” Doc replied without hesitation. He hadn’t as much as glanced in my direction and I couldn’t help but wonder if he was on the spectrum. I was fine with that — and I understood about some of the issues he was grappling with — but it was off-putting when we were dealing with a dead body.

  “Magic does that to the eyes?” Gunner asked.

  “It’s an old spell. I’ve seen it before.” Doc rubbed his palms on the front of his jeans. “He was alive when this was done to him.”

  My stomach twisted. “I don’t understand. What do you mean?”

  “He was alive when the message was burned into him. He was alive until the end. Those who did this, they wanted him to feel every cut and burn. It’s an ancient spell for torture. I’ll have to do more research, but I’m almost positive that’s the case.”

  My head felt light and swirly again. “But ... why?”

  “It’s a message,” Doc replied casually. “They’re sending a message to this Scout person. Do we know who that is?”

  I tilted my head, struggling hard not to let my frustration take over. “I’m Scout.”

  “I introduced you when you arrived,” Gunner added. “You shook her hand.”

  Doc didn’t appear bothered by the rebuke. “Oh, well, that’s convenient.”

  I almost wanted to laugh. Almost. “I don’t know that ‘convenient’ is the word I would use. It’s disturbing is what it is. Why would someone want to send this particular message? I mean ... I don’t get it.”

  “I don’t think any of us get it,” Gunner said. “The message is too jumbled to make any sense.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Doc countered, his forehead wrinkling as he watched the cops lower the body. “The message makes sense to the person sending it. We didn’t send it, so we’re having trouble understanding. We simply need to put ourselves in the shoes of the sender and then we’ll understand.”

  Gunner looked exasperated. “And how do you suggest we do that?”

  Doc shrugged. “That’s your job. I’m just here to look at the body and figure out the symbology.” For the first time, he turned to me. “How many enemies do you have?”

  That was a loaded question. “Enough. I don’t know anyone who would hate me enough to do this. Even those wolves we saw ... I don’t understand why they would do this. It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Maybe they’re testing you,” Gunner suggested. “I mean ... they’re clearly infatuated with what you can do. This could be a test of some sort. You used elemental magic in front of them. They might think you’re something other than what you really are.”

  That made sense, but it didn’t feel right. “This is a weird test. All they’re doing is ticking me off.”

  “You and me both.” Gunner was grim as he watched the medical examiner’s staff rush in to cover
the body. “We’re going to need an inside man on that autopsy.”

  Doc nodded without hesitation. “I’m on it.” He stepped into the street without looking in either direction, causing Gunner to grab the back of his shirt and hold him in place until oncoming traffic passed. “I’ll check in with the group later. I’ve got this.”

  I watched him go, bewildered. “You were right about him being weird,” I said finally.

  Gunner’s laugh was warm and it chased away some of the cold still permeating my body. “He’s definitely weird. He’s supposed to be the best at what he does, though.”

  “So ... why is he here?”

  “Is that a dig?”

  “No. It’s just ... if he’s the best I can think of better locations for him. I think he’s on the spectrum. I’m worried that he’ll wander into the woods and never be seen again because he doesn’t look before he leaps.”

  “Or crosses the street,” Gunner groused. “I get what you’re saying. Rooster was excited when he heard this guy was joining the group. I think we should give him the benefit of the doubt for now.”

  That was easier said than done, but it wasn’t as if we had many options. “Yeah. I guess. What are we going to do about the wolves?”

  “I have no idea. I doubt it’ll be long before they show their faces. They’ll want to crow about this if they did it ... and watch you for a reaction. We should be expecting them at any time.”

  That’s exactly what I was afraid of.

  Seven

  Mable’s Country Table was the local diner. I’d spent years in Detroit, a city with issues swirling around violence and blight, but not food, so I expected my taste buds to be disappointed when I arrived in Hawthorne Hollow. Thankfully, I’d been wrong.

  “I’ll have the bacon cheeseburger with extra pickles and onions, and an order of chili fries,” I volunteered as Mable took our order.

  For her part, the persnickety diner owner appeared amused. “That’s quite the refined palate you’ve got there.”

  “Add onions and mustard to the fries, too,” I instructed.

  Gunner leaned back in the booth seat across from me and shook his head. “You’re going to kill yourself eating like that.” Despite the words, his lips curved. “I’ll have the turkey wrap and a side salad with lemon.”

  I frowned. “That’s what you’re eating?”

  “If you’re worried that I’m a healthy eater, don’t. I have my share of junk. I try to offset it with a healthy lunch every day. Just one of my quirks.”

  It was a quirk that I couldn’t fathom. “You ate prime rib for dinner last night ... and a baked potato ... and chocolate cheesecake.”

  Mable shifted from one foot to the other. “You two had dinner together?”

  Her daughter, Mindy, was crossing behind her at the moment she asked the question. Mindy snapped her head in our direction, frown lines appearing on her forehead. The young woman had a crush on Gunner — that was evident from the moment I’d met her — and I could tell this conversation wasn’t going anywhere pleasant.

  “We did,” Gunner replied before I could think of the best way to answer. He didn’t appear to be interested in – or aware of – Mable’s game. “We went over to Ruby’s place on the lake. The food was really good.”

  “I heard the food was good,” Mable confirmed. “I wouldn’t know from personal experience because I would rather die than eat there – Ruby is a rotten sister, so she’s probably a rotten cook – but I’ll take your word for it.”

  Gunner chuckled as Mable’s feisty nature made an appearance. “Oh, simmer down. You’re still my favorite. We wanted a quiet place to eat where we wouldn’t be under the microscope. You must understand that.”

  I couldn’t believe how comfortable he was talking about our date in front of relative strangers. Of course, to be fair, they weren’t strangers to him. I was the one who felt distinctly uncomfortable with the conversation.

  “I don’t blame you.” Mable squeezed his shoulder. “You are Hawthorne Hollow’s golden boy. You wouldn’t have been able to get a word in edgewise over all the crying women if you had your date in the township limits.” Her gaze was pointed when it landed on Mindy, who remained rooted to her spot, plates in her hands, and appeared absolutely crushed. “I’m glad you’ve found someone to tune your fiddle. Maybe that will give the women of this town a reason to move on.”

  Gunner finally caught on to what Mable was doing and shot her a quelling look. “Do you have to do that?”

  She nodded without hesitation. “That girl still doodles your name on the notepads I keep by the phone. It’s best she get over it.”

  If the glare Mindy pointed in my direction was any indication, her idea of moving on was going to involve running me over in the middle of Main Street and leaving me for dead. I swallowed hard and forced my attention back to Gunner. “How many women in this town doodle your name?”

  He shrugged, his lips curving into a gorgeous smile. “I’m in demand. That should make you feel good about yourself.”

  “Yes,” Mable agreed, bobbing her head. “You should feel pride in casting a line that managed to catch his attention and so expertly reeling him in. I wasn’t certain it was possible.”

  The topic was starting to give me heartburn — and that was before I downed the chili fries — so I decided to change the topic. “Does anyone know the guy found behind the library? Is he a local?”

  “Fred Burns?” Mable’s expression turned decidedly dark. “Yeah, I know Fred. He’s been around a long time.”

  “What can you tell us about him?” I asked.

  “Not much. He was quiet, kept to himself, but stepped in if he found any kids bullying the little ones. He seemed to have a real thing about bullying, which makes me believe he was either terrorized as a kid or knew someone who was.”

  I couldn’t contain my surprise. That was a fairly nuanced observation. “Did he try to protect you from being bullied?”

  Mable snorted. “Honey, nobody bullies me. I’m guessing nobody bullies you either, so you understand what I’m saying. He wasn’t the open sort, but he seemed okay. He wasn’t a bad guy or anything, but … frankly, he was a mess.

  “He wasn’t from around here and I have no idea how he got here,” she continued. “I’d never seen him do drugs or anything, but I got the feeling he liked his pot from a few of our rare conversations. As for other stuff … I’m not sure.”

  “I don’t think he was a user,” Gunner countered. “I mean … I don’t have specific knowledge of that. Whenever I saw him, it was on the street. I don’t know where he spent his nights or anything. I never got the feeling he was using any hard drugs.”

  Mable shrugged. “You’d know better than me. Your father taught you to spot the signs of that stuff.”

  “We saw him last night on the beach by Ruby’s place,” Gunner volunteered. “We were out walking and he stole twenty bucks from Scout’s wallet. I chased him, but I didn’t know it was him because it was dark. He got away.”

  “Apparently he didn’t make it far,” Mable noted, tsking as she shook her head. “It’s sad. I always hoped he would find a way to better his situation. I hoped he would find the strength to try. It never happened.” She took a moment to collect herself. “Anyway, I’ll put your order in. Just a suggestion for the future, girl, but you might want to lay off the onions. You’ve officially caught this one. You want to keep him ... and stinky breath isn’t the way to do it.”

  I was mortified, my cheeks burning, and when I risked a glance at Gunner I found his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. “It’s not funny,” I hissed.

  “It’s kind of funny. As for the onions, knock yourself out. I’m a big fan of onions, and I don’t care if your breath stinks. It kind of turns me on.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “You’re a sick man.”

  “Oh, you have no idea.”

  MY PANTS FELT A LITTLE TOO TIGHT by the time we’d finished lunch. The food bolstered my energy, sorely neede
d, and now that I had a few hours to think about Fred’s death, my anger was starting to take center stage.

  “We need to find the wolves,” I insisted as I sucked down my soda. “They have answers.”

  Gunner held my gaze for a moment and then shrugged. “I don’t think you have to worry about them. They’ll find you.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  He inclined his chin toward the front door. “Call it a hunch.”

  The hair on the back of my neck stood on end and my shoulders stiffened as Drake and Flint walked through the door – almost as if they’d sensed we’d been talking about them.

  “Well, this can’t be a coincidence.”

  “Actually, in this particular case, I’m not sure we can say that with any degree of certainty,” Gunner countered. “I think it’s unlikely they didn’t know we were here, but this is one of the only decent places to eat in town. What happened last night is much more difficult to swallow.”

  Oh, well, if he wanted to be pragmatic. “I still think they were looking for us.”

  “And I think you’re probably right.” He flashed me a tight smile. “I know you’re upset about this, but it would be best if you didn’t fly off the handle and threaten them in front of an audience.”

  Exactly what sort of ninny did he take me for? “I have no intention of killing them here. If I’m going to take them out, you can be darned sure that there won’t be any witnesses present.”

  “At least you’ve given it some thought.”

  He had no idea how much thought I’d given it.

  Flint put on a big show as he entered, his gaze easily tracking from one end of the restaurant to the other. The last place he looked was at our table, which was obviously by design. “Well, hello again.”

  I glared at Gunner. “Still think it was an accident?”

  He shook his head and leaned back in his seat. “He’s obviously putting on a show for your benefit. You still can’t kill him here.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I decided to ignore Flint and focus on my soda. The obvious slap had the intended effect.