Wicked Witches of Coventry- The Collection

by Sara Bourgeois

  She had died a violent, hateful death. For a moment, I found myself scanning the area for a bear or wolves. Her demise had been that vicious. It seemed impossible that anything other than a wild beast could have done something so brutal.

  But the rising sun hit a strip of metal and reflected into my eyes. It was a knife. A knife covered in her blood.

  Despite her injuries, I hoped that there was a chance she was still alive. My mind was desperately trying to rationalize that everything could still be okay.

  I walked closer to her body to see if there were any signs of life. I didn’t want to contaminate the scene, but I also didn’t want to just leave her if there was a chance she could be saved.

  When I saw for sure that there wasn’t, I ran past her to the entrance doors for Mann’s. They were locked. He wasn’t open yet. As I pounded on the doors for Bob, I called Thorn.

  “Good morning, beautiful,” he said. “You don’t usually call me this early.”

  “There’s a dead girl in the parking lot at Mann’s. You have to come right now. It’s awful.”

  “Brighton, are you alone?”

  “I am.”

  “I’m on my way, but you need to get back in your car and lock the doors.”

  “Why?”

  “Because if someone killed her, they might not be gone. It’s not light yet. Please, sweetie, get in your car. I have to drive now. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  Bob hadn’t answered to me pounding on the doors yet, and I realized Thorn was right about me not being safe. It was obvious for reasons I won’t specify that she hadn’t died that long before I arrived. There was no way for me to know if a killer was still lurking in the area.

  Going back to my car meant crossing the parking lot again. I could circle around the gas pumps and avoid the body. My eyes scanned the surrounding area in case someone popped out and lunged at me.

  I was halfway back to my car when I heard Bob shout from behind me. “Brighton? Why on earth are you pounding on the doors so… Oh my god!”

  When I turned around, Bob was standing just outside the store with a black rifle in his hands. He started to rush toward the body.

  “She’s dead,” I said and held up my hand to stop him. “She’s already gone.”

  That stopped him in his tracks. “Get over here, sweetheart. Get behind me.”

  I had to make a decision. Did I get in my car and lock the doors like Thorn had said, or did I join Bob and his rifle?

  Having someone there with me helped calm me down enough that some rational thought returned. As the adrenaline wore off, I remembered that I had magical powers. Bob didn’t know I was a witch, but I could still protect us if someone made a move to hurt us. My magic was probably strong enough to protect me from the rifle too.

  “I’ve called Thorn,” I said as I walked back to the store.

  I didn’t know Bob very well, and while I didn’t believe he’d killed the girl, I had no way of knowing. I figured if he knew that I’d called the police, he wouldn’t do anything to me in the few minutes before Thorn arrived.

  “Good, go inside,” he said.

  As I walked through the door, Bob followed me. Except that he walked backwards and had his gun at the ready in case the killer did reappear.

  “Let’s just wait here and keep an eye on things,” Bob said, and I nodded my head in agreement.

  Minutes later, Thorn’s cruiser came tearing down the street with his lights on but not the siren. He’d told me before over dinner that they did that to keep from scaring off a criminal that might be lurking. If the perp didn’t know the police were coming, they were less likely to run.

  Bob unlocked the door and we started to exit the store, but Thorn got out of his car and held up his hand. “Stay inside for now. I’ll come get you.”

  Bob and I stood and silently watched as Thorn walked around the parking lot perimeter with his gun drawn. Around the time he was done, the other Coventry deputies showed up and used their cars to completely block off the parking lot.

  Eventually, the crime scene people showed up. Thorn sent one of his deputies over to get my statement. Deputy Lungren said that Thorn thought it was best if he took my statement. The FBI was on their way to Coventry for the case, and Thorn thought it was more appropriate if he didn’t take my statement since we were involved romantically.

  I told Deputy Lungren what I’d seen and explained how Bob had come out after I’d pounded on the doors.

  “Hey, Bob. I’m guessing you have security cameras all over this place. Any chance we can have a look? That might clear this whole thing up pretty quick.”

  “I don’t know, Thomas, you know I’d rather you got a warrant,” Bob said.

  “Bob, please, if you don’t have anything to hide, let us have a look.”

  “I don’t buy all that if you don’t have anything to hide stuff,” Bob responded. “I know how the government loves to twist things to fit their narrative.”

  “This is me, Bob. You’ve known me since I was a kid,” Lungren said. “Now the FBI is coming, and they aren’t going to ask. They’re going to shut the Coventry Sheriff’s Office out of this too. Please, won’t you help Thorn and me? We want to get out ahead of this.”

  “Fine,” he said. “But we can watch the tapes in the upstairs office. I don’t want anybody going down in my bunker.”

  Bob let Lungren in and didn’t kick me out, so I followed them into Bob’s upstairs office. The deputy tried to eye me sternly when he went to close the office door. He was too young and fresh-faced to put any kind of dent in my stubborn. Plus, I apparently had Bob on my side.

  “You’ll need to wait outside the office, Brighton.” Lungren said.

  “She stays,” Bob stated as he slid the rifle into a long, black gun safe next to his desk. “I like her, and if you want to look at the surveillance tape, you’ll quit messing around and get over here.”

  Tom Lungren didn’t look like he was pleased, but he let out a huge sigh, threw his hands in the air, and joined Bob at the computer. I waited until Bob had the video rolling to creep up behind them. I didn’t want Tom telling me to go away again, but my curiosity demanded that I check out the video too.

  We were all disappointed. And horrified. I stood there stupefied and watched the recording of her death. I wished that I hadn’t.

  The worst part was that it was for nothing. Her killer never turned to face the cameras. He somehow always kept his face turned away from all of them. Any time he turned enough that we might have caught a glimpse, the hoodie he had pulled over his head blocked the view.

  “Well, that was horrific,” Tom said as he wiped the back of his hand over his brow. “Can I get a copy of that? It doesn’t seem particularly helpful, but Thorn should see it.”

  “You can have it,” Bob said and typed something into his computer. “I’m going to send your department the original files. I don’t want them.”

  “Wait,” a voice said from behind us as Bob hit the button to send. “You’re going to need to turn that over to me.”

  The woman was obviously one of the FBI agents. Her brown hair was tied back in a tight bun, and her fit, muscular frame couldn’t be concealed by her tailored navy-blue suit.

  “Too late,” Bob said. “The file is sent and completely destroyed on my end. You’ll have to take it up with the Coventry Sheriff’s Office.”

  “You’re going to want to speak to my boss about that,” Deputy Lungren said as she turned her steely gaze in his direction.

  “And who are you?” she asked the question in my direction, but I could tell she wasn’t really looking at me.

  “Brighton Longfield. I just happen to be here,” I said and unconsciously took a step halfway behind Bob and Tom.

  “Well, I am Agent Anna Pennhurst, and I’ll need you to escort me to your station.” She barked the order at Tom like a drill Sargent. “As for you, Mr. Mann, my agents are about to exercise a federal search warrant on your property. I’ll need you to ste
p outside, and take Ms. Longfield who just happens to be here, with you.”

  “I want to see the warrant,” Bob said.

  The agent smacked her lips and sighed. “All right. Follow me.”

  We went outside, but Bob stood in the doorway. She waved a man in a black suit over. “Carter, get me the warrant.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  He returned a moment later with a set of folded documents. Agent Pennhurst took them from him and handed the papers off to Bob. His face turned red as he looked them over.

  “How did you get a warrant so fast?”

  “That’s none of your business,” she said and snatched the warrant back from Bob. “Please stand clear of the premises until the search is over.”

  “I’ll stay with you, if you’d like,” I said suddenly feeling protective of Bob. “Unless you want me to call someone for you?”

  “No one to call,” he said. “I appreciate the offer, but I can’t ask you to stay.”

  “You’re not asking,” I said with a smile. “I’m offering. One Coventry local to the next. I’m here for moral support.”

  We took a seat on a grassy area next to the parking lot. Thorn and his deputies stayed near their cruisers and sent customers and looky-loos on their way.

  Bob was quiet. I was about to try and start a conversation when a familiar car pulled up to the main entrance. For a moment, I thought it had to be someone with a car just like his because Brody was the last person I expected to see that morning.

  Chapter Two

  “Brighton?” Brody called out to me.

  He’d stopped his car right behind Thorn’s and stepped halfway out while leaving the engine idling. “You’re going to have to move your car, sir,” Thorn said sternly.

  “Fine.” Brody backed out and moved the car to the shoulder of the road.

  I stood up and waited for him to walk over to where Bob and I were waiting. I didn’t talk to my family very often, and it had been too long since I’d seen my brother.

  The shock of him arriving at the murder scene almost made me miss the fact that he was pale and shaking. Tears ran down his face as his eyes kept flicking to the dead girl. I didn’t understand what was going on, but I was in for a shock.

  “What’s up with your hair?” he choked out. “It’s a little early for Christmas, isn’t it?”

  “Christmas?”

  “Yeah, the red stripe with the green. Very festive, but it seems like an odd time of year.”

  “Red?”

  “Yeah,” he said and tugged a strand of it.

  That particular strand fell in front of my face when Brody let go, and it had in fact turned blood red. The change had occurred sometime between when I’d looked in the mirror to get ready that morning and the moment Brody showed it to me. The hair thing wasn’t the weirdest occurrence, though. I’d gotten used to my hair changing colors on me. What was truly bizarre was that the conversation was happening at all.

  Brody was still in school when I moved out of our mother’s house, and I hadn’t seen him much over the years. He was either, if I could remember correctly, about to graduate from college or already a graduate student. We weren’t close. And yet, there he was standing in front of me while I waited for the sheriff’s office and the FBI to finish their investigation of a dead girl I’d found in a parking lot.

  And he was crying.

  “Never mind my hair,” I said and tucked the crimson strand behind my ear. “What are you doing here?”

  “Brittany’s mother called me,” he said. “She said the sheriff’s office called her. I was already on my way to Coventry to see if this is where Brittany had gone when I got the call. So I had to come here and see if it was true for myself.”

  As soon as he said it, a mournful moan that nearly broke my heart escaped Brody’s lips. He turned away from me and began to sob.

  “You mean the girl? Her name was Brittany?”

  “Brittany Hargrave,” Brody answered. “She was a student at my school, and she was my fiancée. I met her last year before I started the graduate program. We were going to get married when she finished her undergrad this year.”

  “What?” I sputtered. “You were engaged?”

  “You would have known that if you ever called,” he said ruefully, and he was right.

  “Neither Mom nor Grandma ever said anything about it.”

  “I told them not to, Brighton. If you want to know about my life, and I doubt you do, then you can talk to me about it. Not that it matters now. She’s dead.”

  He started to turn to look at her body again, and I grabbed his shoulder and spun him to look at me. “You don’t need to see that anymore,” I said. “I told Bob I’d wait with him, but maybe we can move a little farther that way.” I pointed to the other side of the grassy patch we were standing on.

  “No need,” Agent Pennhurst said. “Bob Mann, I’m going to need you to come with me.”

  “Am I being arrested?” He stood up off the ground and stared her down defiantly.

  “Not yet, but you are being detained as a material witness at this time. I’d also like to have a talk with you about the stockpile of guns we found in your basement.”

  “Those are all licensed and completely legal,” Bob protested.

  “That may be, but we didn’t find that paperwork during our search, so you can help me out with that. Let’s go,” she said and motioned him forward with her fingers. “Come with me easy now, and I’ll do everything I can to make it easy on you from my end. Make this hard for me, and you and I won’t be friends anymore, Bob. You do not want to be my enemy.”

  “I want my lawyer,” Bob said, but he did go with her.

  “That’s fine,” Agent Pennhurst said over her shoulder. “You can call them on the way.”

  As soon as she was gone, Thorn walked over to where Brody and I stood. Someone had covered Brittany’s body with a black tarp, so when Brody looked over at Thorn, he didn’t see her and start crying again.

  “Brighton, are you all right?” Thorn asked, and I realized that he was giving Brody a sideways look.

  Thorn had been talking to his deputies and apparently hadn’t heard the exchange between Brody and me. That meant that I got to introduce my brother to my boyfriend, and I knew I would probably have to be the one to tell Thorn that the victim was Brody’s fiancée.

  “I am,” I said. “Uh, well. So this is my brother, Brody.”

  “Oh.” Thorn looked as shocked as I’d expected, but he extended his hand to Brody for a shake. “Such strange circumstances for us to meet.”

  “That’s another thing. Brody is here because the victim’s mother called him. They were engaged.”

  Thorn abruptly pulled his hand back from Brody. “You’re her fiancé? The victim’s fiancé?”

  “Yes.” Brody sniffled a little and then appeared to pull himself together a little better. “I mean, I was.”

  “What does that mean exactly?” Thorn straightened up and squared his shoulders, and suddenly his tough, no-nonsense persona was back on.

  “I think he means because she died,” I interjected.

  Just because we weren’t close didn’t mean that I didn’t have my big sister moments when it came to Brody. In fact, I’d always felt protective about him. He just never wanted it. Brody and our mother were much closer than we were, and they both seemed to resent my attempts to be his big sister. As a child, my mother constantly tried to drive a wedge between us. Even if she didn’t mean to do it, her meddling in our sibling relationship had cause permanent damage. I didn’t know if I regretted how distant I’d become from the rest of my family but losing my relationship with my baby brother was a wound that had never healed.

  “I think you should let him speak for himself,” Thorn said curtly.

  It stung. I knew he was doing his job, but his tone had an edge he hadn’t taken with me for some time.

  “I mean that we got in a fight,” he said and reached his hand into his pocket. “She threw t
his at me and stormed out, but we argued a lot. Brittany was a passionate person. She got worked up sometimes. She had a temper, but we always come back together. That’s why I came here looking for her.” Brody handed Thorn a diamond ring, “I wanted to give this back to her and make things right.”

  Thorn handed the ring back to Brody. “I’m going to have to inform the FBI about this. As of right now, they’re taking this case. The murder fits the MO of a serial killer apparently, but that doesn’t mean that Brody isn’t a suspect. You’re going to need to stick around town. You know how they say it’s usually the spouse or partner that is the killer? They say that for a reason. I’d ask you more about your argument, but the case is out of my hands currently. I’ll let you tell your side of things to the FBI for now.”

  “Thorn, are you saying you think Brody did this?” I couldn’t believe I even had to ask it.

  “That would be the most common explanation. I don’t know him well enough to make that call, and again, this isn’t my case right now. I’ll let the agent in charge of the investigation know what I’ve learned here. I’d say keep yourself available for questioning. Do you live nearby?”

  “The college is in the city,” Brody said. “It’s a bit of a drive.”

  “He’s staying with me,” I declared.

  “What?” Brody and Thorn asked in unison.

  “You both heard me. If Brody needs to stay close by, then he can stay with me. I have plenty of room.”

  “Brighton, I have school,” Brody argued.

  “So you don’t want to be here to help her family make arrangements? You can’t find a way to do your schoolwork from here for a while?”

  “I guess I can email my professors and see if they can work something out with me. I’d have to take a few days off from my job too, but that might not be a problem considering what happened.”

  “Brighton, can I talk to you alone for a moment?” Thorn asked.

  He began to walk toward his cruiser without waiting for me to answer. “I’ll be right back, Brody,” I said as I followed behind Thorn.

  “What are you doing?” Thorn asked me as soon as we were out of earshot.