When he was done, Hal sat silently for a moment or so before she looked at me, her gaze intense. “You, as a newly minted mortal, fought with this guy Adam Westfield to keep him from getting in Win’s body? You’re a dope warrior, Stevie. A true warrior. I don’t know if I’d have done that as a witch with powers, let alone as a mortal.”
I was embarrassed by the compliment, so I merely shrugged it off. Remembering that night, one of the most harrowing I’d ever experienced, was still a sore spot for me.
“It was a long, crazy couple of days with little sleep and a lot of worry, and all I can say is panic and adrenaline and all the things that set in when you’re in a crazy situation like that overpowered my fears.”
“Don’t let her fool ya, Hal,” Bel chirped. “My girl here’s a real beast when it comes to a bad guy.”
I rolled my eyes and poo-pooed the idea. I think “survivor” was more likely the word we should use when referring to me. I like living.
“Either way, Win’s here now, and this tattoo you saw in your vision could be an integral piece of evidence about what happened the night he was killed. We need to know everything about it.”
Hal looked to Win. “So, let me get this straight, Win. You’ve always believed it was your ex-girlfriend Miranda who killed you? Am I getting that right?”
Win gave a curt nod. He still, even now, didn’t talk much about Miranda. I fully understood her place in his life and where she stood with him now. I just wasn’t sure he understood I had every faith in his words when he said he was over the hurt she’d caused and had let go of her memory.
“You are correct, but after that memory I had some time ago, one I’m certain was real, I’m very unsure about my stance on her. I simply don’t know if it was actually Miranda who pulled the trigger.”
And that endlessly tortured him—to have blamed the wrong person all this time for his death. Especially because the accused was someone he’d once cared for a great deal.
Hal’s slender shoulders sagged and she blew out a breath. “I wish I had more, Win, but it’s like I said. I saw the hand with the tattoo and I heard your name, Winterbottom.. That’s it. That’s all I have, but it did make me speed up my visit to you because, again, I must impress upon you both the feelings that accompany my visions, and this one was urgent.”
“When you have these visions, have they already happened or have they yet to happen?” Win asked, rolling the sleeves of his sweater up his arms.
“I’m afraid it can be either-or. I can see past, present, and sometimes even the future.”
“Can you describe the tattoo?” I asked before I held my breath
Hal nodded her head, her eyes fiery. “It was on the back of a man’s hand. At least I’m assuming it was a man. His hand was rather hairy. It was a snake with a blue collar and some kind of gem, a diamond, maybe? It also had the letter ‘R’ on the collar.”
I’m pretty sure I turned as white as one of the ghosts who shows up in the corners of my life, because Win gripped my hand. I felt breathless, frightened. Why was Hal, of all people, seeing a vision of this hand with the tattoo? Until just a few weeks ago, she didn’t even know we existed.
Hal reached across the top of the table and latched onto my suddenly icy fingers. “I know you’re thinking my vision is very random. We didn’t even know each other when I had it. But I knew of you, and sometimes, when I meet someone or hear a story about someone from a person who loves them, holds them dear, I have a vision. Hugh loves you. It was obvious when he talked about you, Stevie. That’s the only explanation I can give you about why it happens, and it’s always been this way. No rhyme. No reason.”
Just as Hal was explaining the origins of her visions, the doorbell rang, and I froze. It didn’t help that we’d just been talking about Win’s death and visions. An ominous feeling crept into my soul, but I shook it off.
Who could be calling so late? I ignored the feeling someone was walking over my grave and rose. I slipped from the chair and excused myself with Whiskey, who’d been curled at Hal’s feet, hopping up to escort me.
But Win kept hold of my hand. “Stephania? Do make sure you check the security camera to see who’s at the door.”
“You’re never going to let me forget the fake pizza delivery guy, are you?” I teased. “Just lay low, okay? Just in case.”
“Um, the fake pizza guy? Another adventure I’m going to want to hear all about?” Hal asked with a smile.
“I’ll let Win tell you while I get this.” I left the two of them talking about my run-in with the pretend delivery guy who was really a murderer and ran to the door. Whoever it was, they weren’t letting up on the doorbell.
Pressing the button for the security camera by the front door, I saw it was my favorite officer of the law, Dana Nelson: Rigid Rule Follower.
I flung the door open with a smile, but one glance at Dana said he wasn’t in the mood to smile. Not that this was an unusual occurrence for my favorite policeman, but he really-really wasn’t smiling.
As I let the door go free and the wind whisked in, bringing with it some leaves, I grinned again. He was in his civilian clothes, so thankfully, I wasn’t a suspect in some bank heist or anything. Still, he looked concerned.
Yes, that’s the word I’d use. Concerned. Which should have been the first sign we were in for a bumpy ride.
But did that stop me? Nah. I jumped right on the sarcasm train, full-steam ahead. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t Officer Stick-Up-His-Butt. Long time no see. What’s kept you away so long? Have you been too busy memorizing the Magna Carta? Watching videos of police procedures, maybe? What can I do for you, old friend?”
But Dana didn’t even smirk. In fact, his eyes said it all. They were zeroed in on my face, and he was looking at me as though he couldn’t believe something—I don’t know what that something was, but there was disbelief—or maybe it was shock—all over his face.
And that made my stomach take a nosedive—a hard one.
Instantly, my mind went to the show I’d seen the other night and the soundbite of one of the goons talking about crazy Christmas sweaters and a British guy, and it was all I could do not to let fear swallow me whole.
He held up a hand, his eyes narrowing. “I’m not here on a social call, Stevie. So please save the jokes.”
Now I frowned, but I still wasn’t taking the hint. “Then why are you here? Are you having trouble sleeping? You wanna watch a marathon of Say Yes to the Dress?”
“Stevie, I need to talk to you. I really need to talk to you about something very serious.”
I shivered, and I’m not entirely sure it was because of the cold air blowing in the door. “Okay. Do you want to come in?” I asked, raising my voice and hoping Win heard me so he could hide, while still trying to keep this interaction as natural as possible.
But Dana shook his head with a curt negative. “I can’t stay long. I have a shift coming up, but I really needed to talk.”
I gave him an odd look and pretended I had no idea what he wanted to talk about, but I was beginning to get the feeling my world was about to implode.
Still, I tried to keep my cool and act casual, praying to the universe this wasn’t about what I thought it was about.
“Okay. So talk.”
He sucked in his cheeks, driving his hands inside his beige trousers, his face as hard as granite. “I’m not going to beat around the bush. I’m just going to be direct.”
I wasn’t sure if he was warning me or asking permission, so I tested the waters. “You? Direct? But you’re so good at beating around the bush,” I teased with a grin.
“Stevie, I don’t have time to play whatever game you’re playing today. What I need to talk to you about is very important and very serious.”
Oh. Oh, yeah. We had big trouble in little China.
For sure.
Chapter 4
I’m pretty sure I went white as my crisp cotton sheets, and while I grappled with what to do, and Dana stared me dow
n like I was in for an interrogation, the cold air hitting me in the face with a sharp sting, I did the only thing I could think of.
I faked a sloppy sneeze. Then I faked another one. Then I coughed and sputtered, wiping my nose on the sleeve of my shirt and snorting…loudly.
“Sorry, old chum, but I think I’m suddenly coming down with a cold. Can we do this another time?” I asked, then sneezed right at him as I gave him a shove off the porch, not bothering to listen to his answer.
“Stevie!” he yelped, spinning around, his handsome face shocked. “You were fine a second ago!”
I hacked another cough and sniffled. “Yeah. Crazy, right? Anyway, bye, Dana! I’ll give you a ring when I’m better.”
I slammed the door and quickly locked it, making a break for the kitchen to see if Win and Hal were about.
I skidded in with Whiskey trotting at my heels to find the kitchen deserted. I ran to the windows by the kitchen nook to close the blinds in case Dana decided to get crafty and snoop around to get a glimpse inside, all the while, my stomach revolting like I’d swallowed a handful of jumping beans.
“Guys?”
“In the basement,” Belfry whispered from his hiding place in a ficus plant that sat next to the kitchen table.
Win poked his head out of the basement door, his brow furrowed. “Stephania? All clear?”
I nodded, but I was worried—really worried. “But I don’t know for how long, Win. Did you hear Dana?”
He stepped into the kitchen with Hal behind him, her face filled with concern. “I did. We’re in the hot seat, I suppose.”
“You suppose? Yeah, buddy, we’re in the hot seat! He said he wants to talk about something very important and very serious. What else could it be but the Vera brothers case? So what are we going to do, Win? We have to figure something out, and we have to figure it out fast before he involves anyone else. Like his superiors or the FBI or whoever investigated the Vera brothers mess.”
I know my tone held panicked urgency. I heard it. But Dana had looked none too pleased with me.
In fact, I’d venture to guess I saw disappointment in his eyes, and yes, maybe even some judgment. But he wasn’t the kind of man—the kind of police officer—who would be kept waiting for long. He’d keep pushing and nosing around because he was good at his job, and even though I adored him most days, today was not one of those days.
Win ran a hand over his hair and rasped a sigh. “I heard everything, Dove. The question is, how do we fix this? I did meet Dana. I did have that bloody sweater on.”
Hal placed a hand on my forearm, her eyes warm with sympathy. “I have an idea, Stevie. I’m not sure if it will help or make matters worse, but I’m gonna throw it out there anyway.”
I’d forgotten Hal’s being here could involve her. I didn’t want her to feel as though she could end up a witness to our shenanigans at Vera Brothers.
“Did Win tell you who Dana was and why he came calling? I don’t want you to get involved in something that could in any way tie you to this mess, Hal. ”
“He did, and don’t worry about that. Please. However, I might have a short-term solution so you can breathe and sort this all out.”
“I’m all ears,” I said, twisting my clammy hands together in a knot.
“Listen, I know what it is to live in a world where there are suspicious humans. Even though we’re not supposed to use our powers for gain, financial or otherwise, I admit to lighting a fire in my fireplace from time to time. Small acts like that have almost gotten me and even my mother caught. Believe me. I also know what it’s like to try and keep the mortal world at bay without arousing too much suspicion, yet still keep your powers honed. I’m good at it. I’ve done it for years. I didn’t live in a place where there were other people like me besides my mother and my nana. It’s hard to be friends with mortals when they’d think you’re nuts if you told them what you really are. I can’t even imagine having to explain Win’s situation. So, I have an idea…”
I blew out a breath of air. I’d never felt so vulnerable as I did right this second. I felt exposed. I felt like Win had been exposed and all I wanted to do was protect him.
“Again, I’m all ears,” I said. I was open to anything. Well, almost.
“Come to Marshmallow Hollow. You can stay with me and Atticus, and we’ll figure this out while you’re there. I have plenty of room, and as long as you don’t mind the ongoing renovations, we can make a plan.”
My heart tightened. It was a very sweet offer, but if Dana found out about her, she’d be in for a third-degree interrogation she didn’t deserve.
“But you don’t even know us, Hal. We’d be imposing. We just met. I’d feel like such a burden.”
Win wrapped an arm around my shoulder, pulling me to him. “Stephania is right, Hal. I’d never forgive myself if you were involved in this, too. It’s difficult enough fretting over how I’ve involved her.”
She shook a finger at us and smiled her beautiful smile. “I won’t hear of it. We’re family now, and just because we only met, doesn’t mean we can’t help each other out. We witches have to stick together, Stevie, and I don’t care what the coven says about your status as a witch. No matter what you say, you’re still one of us as far as I’m concerned.
“Plus, while we figure out how to fix this, you’ll be able to experience Marshmallow Hollow at Christmas, and from the look on your face when I described my hometown, it sure looked like Christmas was your thing. I can’t think of anyone who speaks that better than the folks in Marshmallow Hollow.”
I looked up at Win, his gorgeous face grim, the lines around his eyes deep with worry. I had no idea he’d felt responsible for my involvement in what I considered a random predicament. It wasn’t his fault I was sucked up into the afterlife. That had been mine. I was the one who’d screwed up the spell.
“Maybe she’s right, Dove. It surely would help if we could find some quiet time to check all our boxes in peace after Vera Brothers, and certainly the company would be a brilliant change for you. You two could get to know one another in a setting close to your heart.”
The idea of being able to parse this mess without fear of Dana beating down our door sounded lovely. And yes, yes. The Christmas thing was a major bonus. But…
“But it’s a long drive, Win, even without the snow in the mountains at this time of year. It’s all the way across the country. We can’t fly without identification for you. We’d have to drive, and Bel also hates to fly in the winter, and even after all that, we have Whiskey and Strike to think of.”
Hal crossed her arms over her chest and smiled at us with a mischievous grin. “Aren’t you two adorbs?”
I gave her a strange look. “How so?”
“Didn’t I just tell you how I got here? If you agree, all I have to do is snap my fingers and it’s done. So say yes. Please? I’ll take care of everything. Swear it on my Nutcracker collection.”
I was almost there—until I remembered what she’d said earlier. “But didn’t you say sometimes you have trouble with a transporting spell?”
“I said I have trouble when I’m under a lot of stress. But I don’t feel stressed at all. So, c’mon,” she coaxed with a twinkle in her sparkling blue eyes. “Say yes to Christmas!”
Win and I looked at each other, and I knew if nothing else, we could surely use the time to plan our next move—which might be renting a big U-Haul with a sign that read Siberia or Bust to avoid the law.
He smiled down at me before we both said, “Yes!”
“Ow!” I yelped as we crash-landed on a hard, splintery floor, tucking and rolling to avoid crashing into a big metal ladder.
I heard Win groan somewhere off to my left, and then Whiskey barked, followed by Strike’s gobble—a confused one, if I was reading him correctly.
“Phew-wee!” Belfry yelled out in excitement as he buzzed toward me and snuggled under my ear. “That was some spell, eh, Boss? Just like the old days.”
“Oh, guys, I’m s
orry that was so rough!” Hal called out as I pushed my way up from the floor, still dizzy from the spell.
Groaning again, I blew my hair out of my face and had to grab at the first stable thing I saw, a green, gingham-checked wingback chair, in order to right myself.
Win popped up with the speed of someone who’d been terrorized daily by Nurse Ratched and some squats. He crossed the room to me, holding out his hand.
“Dove? Are you all right?”
As I began to get a real look at my surroundings, I nodded numbly, still in awe of Hal’s powers of transport and her farmhouse. “I’m fine… Gravy, would you look at this, Win? It’s…”
“Incredible,” he finished for me, his eyes as wide as I’m sure mine were.
We’d fallen into what I assumed was Hal’s great room, and it was indeed great. A fireplace as tall as me, with a long, rustic wood mantel covered in evergreens and red and white ornaments draping gracefully across the surface, sat smack in the middle of the enormous yet cozy room, quite clearly under construction.
The hearth, comprised of gray slate, sprawled out at least three feet from the opening of the roaring fireplace. There was a big copper basket containing freshly chopped wood and a set of fireplace tools.
The other walls were painted in a light taupe with a gallery of black and white pictures of Hal and her mother—and I guessed her grandmother, Karen—framed in walnut. All beautiful women with the same signature twinkle in their eyes. Now that I saw Keeva, I also saw Hal resembled her a bit, too, around her mouth and her chin.
Surrounding those family photos was another gallery wall of vintage Christmas paintings. Turning around, I was greeted by two puffy couches gathered around the fireplace in light beige weave with crimson and white fuzzy throw blankets draped over the backs. Pillow after pillow of vintage Christmas prints created nests on either end of each sofa.
Huge beams graced the vaulted, shiplapped ceilings in more distressed walnut wood with an enormous antique white chandelier hanging in the middle. Soft lights sprayed a gentle glow, making the baskets filled with Christmas greenery and holly berries that hung from the beams almost sparkle.
Witch it Real Good Page 4