by K. M. Waller
“You too,” I barked at her.
“That’s a great band,” she replied.
The other girls laughed.
Teenagers. I didn’t want to come down hard on her but she’d already made me look like a fool by locking me inside the shed.
I moved to stand in front of her. “I guess if you’re scared you can’t keep up, then you can sit today out.”
Her brown eyes sparked with the challenge. “Listen, old lady. I can do anything you can do. And probably more.”
Old lady? If I wasn’t used to an already warped reality, that comment might have hurt. “A challenge, huh?” I glanced at the other girls. “Who wants to see us run a little race? If Jennifer wins, she and anyone else who doesn’t want to take part can sit out P.E. the rest of the week.”
The girls murmured with excitement. I smiled at Jennifer knowing that the peer pressure would mean she couldn’t back down.
She took a deep breath and smiled back. “You’d have to cheat to beat me.”
Her friend called out a childish, “Ooooo.”
“Tonya and a girl of your choice will judge.” I took off my watch and handed it to Tonya. “The course will be to run to the shed, stop and do ten pushups and twenty jumping jacks, then run back to where Tonya is standing. Simple.”
She bent over and stretched her legs. “I ran track at my high school before they kicked me out. I can run three laps around you.”
“Good luck,” I said.
I nodded to Tonya.
She held up the watch and said, “Ready, set, go…”
I let Jennifer fly ahead of me to the shed. She’d waste energy on the run and I’d catch up with the pushups. She touched the side of the shed and dropped for pushups—rocking through them much faster than I’d expected.
I charged forward, touched the shed and dropped to the ground as she finished her last pushup. Uh oh. She finished her twenty jumping jacks as I stood up and then she bounded across the backyard to Tonya.
After my twenty, I jogged back, a cramp forming in my side. How could I possibly be out of shape?
Tonya tsked several times. “She beat you bad.”
Jennifer flipped her hair. “Later, loser.”
All the girls followed her to the back of the school. Tonya handed me the watch. “That didn’t turn out like you planned, did it?”
I chuckled, pride and humiliation swimming in my gut. “No, it did not.”
If anyone were to beat me, I guess having my mom in teenage form do so wasn’t all that bad.
Chapter Eleven
Since I’d accidently cancelled my class, I decided to use the extra time to work out a scrying spell on the doll and hair. First, I stopped by Tonya’s room and picked up the stray cat. She purred and nestled against my chest while I walked with her down the hall. Definitely not a familiar as they wouldn’t snuggle like a real pet. Or maybe just not a super grouchy one like Lily Rose.
I was glad I’d taken the time to make sure since familiars were notorious for tattling to their witches, and I didn’t need anyone knowing what I was up to. The presence of a regular cat would help my scrying spell. Many witch and warlock cultures held beliefs that cats were spiritually tuned in to witchcraft.
The kitty bounded onto Laura’s bed and nestled on her pillow again. I didn’t need the cat awake or aware to channel the extra cosmos power. I locked the door and put my back against it, unfolding the map onto the floor.
Scrying spells were specific in nature and I only had one chance with it. I couldn’t be vague in what information I needed it to provide. I placed the doll in the middle of the map and took out my crystal and string.
Did I go with the maker of the doll or the owner of the hair? If the doll had been created by a witch two states over and brought here to the town, I’d have wasted my spell. If the hair belonged to anyone other than Sarah, the connection to the murder might not fit. And again, wasted spell.
I rolled the doll back and forth across the map. The crudeness in some areas of the doll suggested someone made it in haste. I went with searching for the doll maker.
I hung my string from my index finger over the map and cleared my mind. I said a quick thank you to cosmos for hearing my needs, then worked out a spell. “Cosmos guide me, let my crystal fall, find the maker of the poppet doll.”
The crystal spun in the air as if a breeze were pushing it. After four of five circles it tugged my hand down to the map. The edge of the crystal stood up on a building in the middle of main street. I recognized the building.
The hair salon. Owned by my Grams and Step-gramps.
I allowed my head to loll back against the door. The argument between Rebecca and Laura confirmed my suspicions weren’t off base. There had been words exchanged between Grams and Sarah the night of her death. The known cheater in town—Step-gramps—had made a visit or two to the school to see Sarah. Had Grams used this doll to lure Sarah to the woods after their argument to kill her? Had Step-gramps murdered her to keep her quiet about the affair? As far as I could tell, he didn’t have any magical powers that could solidly connect him to the case. On top of all that, I still needed a murder weapon and an explanation for the animal mauling.
Unless Grams used her witchcraft to call forth an animal to cover her tracks. The confusion had me spinning my wheels, and I had the luxury of hindsight and several more witchy advantages over the local cops. I bit my lip and released it. The local cops didn’t look as defective as the case file made them out to be.
I cleaned up the map and crawled over to pet the cat on top of the head. She purred in response. “Come on, Little Miss. I need you as a cover story.”
She rolled and let me scratch her belly. If only we could bring things back from the past, I’d take her in a heartbeat. But the rules were there for a reason. The less of a mess we made in the past, the less the clean-up crew had to contend with after we rocketed back to the present.
Not sure what to wear to confront a possible murdering witch who I was related to, I dipped into Laura’s closet and pulled out a pair of lycra pants with neon stripes down the sides. I didn’t want to be caught off guard in a dress if I needed to use some of my boxing skills to get out of a sticky situation. Plus, if my inquiries went nowhere, I still needed to hit up Missy at Jazzercise for more town gossip.
I opened my bag and coaxed Little Miss inside. She let out a yowl after I zipped her in. “I know, it’s only for a minute or two.” I cracked open my door and after checking for adults that would hinder my path, I trotted to the back door and made my way to the parking lot.
Officer Mike stood sentry outside of his patrol car, a cigarette dangling from his hand. When he saw me, he tossed it to the ground and scrubbed a shoe over it.
“You know those things are really terrible for you.” I couldn’t say this enough to the people of the past.
“I usually don’t, but the chief has me pulling double shifts, and the smoking helps keep me awake.”
Little Miss let out a yowl.
“Do you have a cat in the bag?”
“She followed me home. I’m going to town to find her owner.” I used Michelle’s keys to unlock the car door and released Little Miss from her prison.
“Ah, that’s Mrs. Williams’ cat. She’s all over town but usually goes home on her own. The county stray animal collection service knows to leave her alone.”
I shut the door and Little Miss curled up in the passenger seat. “She doesn’t happen to live near Mrs. Ruiz, does she?”
“Nah, that’s the other side of town in the Heather Mist subdivision where the wealthier people live.”
“And that would be where?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Why do you want to know?”
I understood the skepticism. Being the new blood in town, he probably thought I’d be on my way to see Mr. Ruiz instead.
I didn’t have all day to ask around town about their address either. I touched his hand and worked out a truth spell. “Tell me now, what I ne
ed, the address to Mrs. Ru-iz.”
I cringed at my failure to line up the rhymes exactly. Lily Rose would hoot and roll on her back if she heard my fumbling.
“Twelve thirty-two John Street. Take a left on Main past the IGA and follow the road out to the subdivision.” He’d stated the address and directions in a monotone voice. After, he shook his head as if to clear the fog. “What were we talking about?”
“You were going to give me Mrs. Williams’ address.” I gestured to Michelle’s car, a light gray four-door Honda. “So I can take the kitty home.”
“Oh, yeah.” He pulled a notepad out of his breast pocket and wrote the address. He even drew a little map.
I thanked him and climbed into the car, taking a deep breath. I’d learned very early in my case-solving career that the truth spell had to be used for one piece of information at a time. And that people who were spelled retained some parts of the conversation. I kept it in my arsenal as a last resort and only when I could quickly cover the question with something similar.
Other more powerful witches could twist the spell to have more potency and some actually had the natural power to detect lies. I liked not having to rely on my powers exclusively to solve a case. But in a pinch, they were worth the rhyme.
I guided Michelle’s Honda onto the main road and into town. I considered my options on how to approach Grams, but nothing other than “I think I have your cat” worked as a plausible cover. If we’d never met at the salon or the school, then I could have worked out a cover that would get me in the door, like a damsel in distress who needed to use the phone.
Unlike many of the stucco cookie-cutter subdivisions of the 2000s, Heather Mist had two-story brick homes with long driveways and large yards. I pulled into the drive of house number Twelve Thirty-Two and parked behind the brown Ford Pinto.
“Ready for your part?” I asked my feline partner.
The cat twisted her body into a long stretch with her arms down and her tail high in the air. She added a yawn.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” I answered for her.
I scooped her into my arms and stilled my nerves. I’d taken on paranormals of every kind in the past six years. If I focused on my task and didn’t get distracted with the family element of it all, then I’d keep my one hundred percent solve rate and get to spend a few more days allowing my mom to torture me.
I used the decorative door knocker and tapped it three times against the brown door. I leaned over and watched the curtains move at the front window. Those were chocolate brown too. Grams had a thing for the color, I guessed.
The door swung open and my grandmother looked down her nose at me. I hadn’t expected a warm hug.
“Can I help you?” She’d forgotten to put on her gloves and when she caught me searching for the psoriasis she claimed to have on her hands, she tucked them behind her back.
Perfect.
“Is this your cat?” I tossed Little Miss through the door and watched her take off into the house. “Oh gee. I’m so sorry. I don’t know how that could have happened.”
She backed away from me, opening the door farther. An expression of dismay wrinkled her forehead. “Please get that cat out of my house.”
I stepped inside. “So she’s not yours?”
“I don’t like animals.”
Her statement stumped me. All witches had a familiar. Was she so far removed from her witch heritage she denied herself the comfort of a companion too? If Grams didn’t practice witchcraft that wouldn’t fit with the ritual site.
The entry hall had a small table with a framed photograph of Grams and my dad. I’d have placed him at no more than three or four years old. My fingers itched to pick it up and hold it close to my chest.
“The cat?” Grams said.
She stood at least three feet away from me as I moved farther into the house. No doubt she didn’t want to brush up against my skin as badly as I wanted to brush up against hers. I’d figure out how before I walked out the door.
“Did you see which way she ran?” I asked.
Grams’ lips tightened.
“Look who I found,” a male voice bellowed from somewhere deeper in the house. My future dad rounded the corner, snuggling Little Miss up to his chest. “How did Mrs. Williams’ cat get in the house?”
He came to a full stop in front of me. “I thought someone in town said she was your cat.”
“That’s weird. Most everyone knows that Bee Bee belongs to Mrs. Williams.” His gaze took in my face. “Aren’t you the new teacher at the girls’ school?”
My mouth went dry with all the questions I couldn’t ask him in return. “Yes, I’m Netty. And you are…”
“Hector.” A lock of hair shifted to cover one of his eyes. Our matching eyes. Bee Bee purred in his arms and nuzzled his neck. “She’s the best cat.” He turned his attention back to his mom. “Can I borrow the car and take her home?”
“You’re still grounded.”
“Aw, come on, Mom. I’ll come right back.” He held up Bee Bee’s paw and gave her a sheepish grin. “Cat’s honor.”
I smiled as her resolve crumpled and a motherly twinkle shone in her eyes. The love between them was unmistakable.
“Fine. Straight there and back,” she said.
Her expression cooled as she regarded me. “Let me show you out.”
I grabbed my throat and coughed. “Can I trouble you for a glass of water?”
“Bye, Mom.” Hector bustled out the door and shut it hard behind him.
Grams rubbed the middle of her forehead as if to ward off a headache. Or me. Or both. She regained her composure. “Let me get you that water so you can be on your way.”
I followed her into the kitchen. If she could use spells to get someone out the door, I didn’t want to give her the opportunity to concoct something. “One teacher mentioned you sit on the board for the school.”
She pulled a glass from a cabinet. “Yes.”
“But you don’t like the teachers or the students. Don’t you believe in their program?”
“I didn’t realize what a distraction they would be.”
She handed me the glass and pointed to the sink. I bit my lips together. Grams didn’t suffer fools. I poured the water and took a long sip. “You mean a distraction to the men and boys in town?”
Her gaze sharpened and her pupils widened. I’d gone bold with my questioning. Too bold.
She pulled the glass from my hand and for a second our fingers brushed. Just long enough. I held on to the feelings soaring through her. Embarrassment. Sadness. The words cheater and trapped floated through to the back of my head. My head swirled with lightheadedness and I leaned against the counter. Quite the head rush.
Amongst my dizziness, I noted the major emotion missing from Grams—anger. Wouldn’t she need a lot of that in order to stab someone repeatedly?
“Are you okay?” Her tone let me know she didn’t fancy picking me up off of her clean kitchen floor.
“Can I use your restroom?” I wouldn’t blame her if she said no.
“Down the hall to the left.”
I braced myself for a stumbly walk down the hall. Never had I felt so ill after an empath touch. The only time I’d ever felt this way was when I’d let my little sister go three rounds with me in the ring at the gym. Paige had a wicked rabbit punch.
In the bathroom, I locked the door behind me and sat on the edge of the tub. I put my head between my knees and took deep breaths. I glanced over at the bathroom cabinet. Did all witches keep their crystals and other supplies in the feminine hygiene boxes? Or was that a special hiding spot only Lily Rose and I thought to use?
After splashing water on my face, I pulled open the cabinet and rifled through the personal items. I figured they owed me, seeing how I’d been abandoned to the foster care system instead of claimed by them.
Nothing out of the ordinary. The décor in the house had been plain Jane 80s style. Nothing mystical or whimsical. I began to think my scrying had
led me astray. I washed my hands and smoothed back my mullet.
I’d work the girls at the salon next. They had to know more about Grams and Step-gramps and the affairs.
A light knock sounded from the other side of the door. “Are you all right in there?”
“Totally.” I washed my hands and dried them on the fancy brown towel with an R monogrammed in black. Just in case I needed something of hers to scry with again, I swiped an eyeshadow brush out of a drawer under the sink. Nothing she’d miss.
I opened the door to find Grams sliding on her gloves. “I really must go out. I have appointments. Please leave.”
“Don’t worry. I’m gone.” Forever. Lily Rose had told me more than once to be careful what I wished for when it came to wanting to know my real family. Now I could return and tell her how right she was about that.
It’s better to be loved by people who are willing to fight tooth and nail to have you in their lives. Like Momma Carla and Chuck. Grams didn’t deserve me. Most likely my dad never had a choice, so I wouldn’t hold it against him.
Even if all roads led back to her as the murderer, after her treatment of me this afternoon, I could safely detach myself from turning her over to the authorities. As I walked back through the kitchen, I glimpsed a shed out in the backyard. It was secured with a deadbolt. Across the door, a rune symbol had been carved into the wood. The symbol for protection. Interesting. The symbols would cover the yard and most of the house, keeping out what though?
What did Grams need protection from?
Chapter Twelve
Missy greeted me at the church’s front door and vibrated excitement. She waved me inside and I followed her to the fellowship hall. Someone had pushed tables and folding chairs out of the way and against the walls, leaving a clearing in the middle of the floor.
Her spandex workout clothes reminded me of something I’d seen in an old Olivia Newton-John video. Three other women occupied the room, each of them wearing a similar outfit. I glanced down at my t-shirt and Lycra shorts feeling underdressed.
Missy caught my gaze as she bounced around the room.