Charmed To Death Part 4

I groaned, ever since last fall, Darci envisioned herself as a Dr. Watson to my Sherlock Holmes. Should I tell her about Abby's prophecy? No, since our "adventure" last fall almost led to murder-mine-the risk would be too great. If Darci found out I was searching for a killer, she'd insist on helping me. And I'm not sure I could protect her.

"Darci, you don't need any more adventures. You were lucky you weren't with Rick and me that night in the machine shed. You could've been killed."

"But I hated missing out on all the excitement."

"Trust me, getting shot isn't all that exciting."

"Speaking of Rick-"

"I didn't know we were."

Darci smiled. "You mentioned him. What's up with him?"

"Nothing's up. I haven't heard from him for a couple of months."

"That's too bad."

"It's okay. I knew from the beginning that he wasn't the one for me. He has his life in Minneapolis and he loves it. He told me once he couldn't imagine doing anything else." I shook my head. "I don't see him giving it up, ever. We were two people thrown together under unusual circ.u.mstances."

"Ships pa.s.sing in the night," she said thoughtfully.

"Trite, but true." I replied, my tone noncommittal.

"What about Ned?"

"Dang, Darci, are we going to spend the whole trip discussing my love life?"

"From what I hear, there isn't much to discuss."

I laughed. "Yeah, you're right. Ned and I are only friends. I don't see it going any further than that. There isn't the chemistry."

"Not like with Rick, huh."

"What did I miss?" I asked, ignoring her question.

"What?" Her eyebrows drew together.

"You said I hadn't heard a word you said. So what did you say?"

"Oh." Darci's face brightened. "I asked you if you'd read that article in People People? The one about the skeleton found under the pile of rocks near a small town in Ma.s.sachusetts?"

"A skeleton?"

Darci gave a long sigh. "I guess you didn't."

"Okay, I didn't read the article. Why don't you tell me about it?"

She wiggled in her seat and gripped the wheel tighter. "Well, I think the name of the town was Brookton," she said squinting her eyes. "Anyway, some guy's dog fetched home a human skull. Can you imagine that?"

It was my turn to sigh. "No, I can't, and I'm not sure I want to."

"Come on, it's a really interesting story."

Staring at the flat black fields flying by the window, I decided, ever since last fall, Darci's interests had taken a macabre twist. But she didn't give me the chance to point it out to her.

"Naturally, a search was conducted. They finally found a woman's skeleton, without the skull, of course-"

"Of course," I interrupted, turning to look at Darci. "The dog had it."

"Right," she said, nodding her head empathetically. She stopped midnod and pursed her lips in a pout. "Oh, now you're teasing me. Do you want to hear the story or not?"

"Sorry. I want to hear the story."

Placated, she continued. "The skeleton was under a pile of rocks clear out in the middle of nowhere, in the woods. The local sheriff believes it's the remains of a woman who disappeared fifteen years ago."

"A young woman?"

"No, the woman was in her mid sixties, a recluse who made her living doing laundry. She was single, never married, and lived in an old cabin not too far from where they found the body."

"But why do they think the skeleton is hers?"

"The missing woman had a limp; she'd been born with one leg shorter than the other. The skeleton's left femur is shorter than the right and that person would've walked with a limp too. Like the missing woman."

"Was it murder?"

"Of course it was murder," Darci scoffed.

"Not necessarily. She could've died from natural causes and someone buried her out in the woods."

"No way. The article said the medical examiner thinks she was still alive when the murderer started piling the rocks on her."

My eyes widened. "You mean she was slowly crushed to death?"

"Yup."

"That's horrible!" I said while my stomach knotted at the thought of the poor woman's death. "What an awful way to die!"

"Yes, it is, but I haven't told you the most interesting part. The article hinted that it might be a case of pressing pressing."

"What's that?"

"Come on, with your heritage, you don't know what pressing pressing is?" is?"

"No. What's pressing got to do with me?"

"It was used in Salem."

I still didn't get it.

"You know, the Salem Witch Trials?" Darci explained. "They used pressing to kill someone accused of witchcraft. The executioners would continue to pile rocks on the victim until they confessed." Darci stole a quick look at me. "It took about three days before the accused witch finally died."

A sick feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. I quickly rolled the window down a crack and took a deep breath of fresh air. "Can we talk about something else?"

Darci gave me a sympathetic look. "Okay, back to Rick-"

I held up my hand, stopping her. "I thought we'd finished with the subject of Rick."

"Okay. Whatever's eating on you isn't Rick and it isn't Ned. What is is bothering you?" bothering you?"

"I guess I'm worried about Abby. She's upset over this hog confinement issue." I rubbed my eyes again.

Darci frowned. "We all are."

"It's a mess." I rested the back of my head against the seat. "And Abby's right in the middle of it."

Darci reached out and touched my shoulder. "Hey, don't worry. Abby can always hex 'em."

"No, she wouldn't do that. It's against everything she believes in. It sends negative energy into the universe and, according to her, would return to her three times over."

"Wow. Lot of bad vibes."

"No kidding. No, she'll try to stop PP International the normal way. Anyway, it's wrong to use magick to bend others to your will."

"I'm sure you're right, but it's gotta be tempting."

I turned my head and stared out the window. Tempting? What if I did did find Brian's killer? What would I be tempted to do to him? find Brian's killer? What would I be tempted to do to him?

Thoughts of Abby filled my mind and along with them came a need to talk to her. But the seminars at the convention lasted forever. When I finally walked in the door, the phone was ringing. Abby.

"Hi, how are you? You've been on my mind all day."

"I'm fine, sweetie."

Bull, her voice sounded too tired. I shut my eyes and concentrated on Abby's face in my mind, but her laugh interrupted my thoughts.

"Sorry, it won't work, Ophelia."

"What?" I asked my voice defensive. "What won't work?"

She laughed again. "You and I both know you were trying to 'read' me. Like I said, it won't work."

Rearranging the pillows on the bed, I plopped down. "Darn, why not?"

"Advantage of being psychic. I sense someone's mind trying to touch mine."

"You never seem to have any problem reading mine."

"Well, I've had more practice at blocking than you've had. The more you work with it, the more successful you'll be. Now tell me about the seminars."

"I'd rather hear about what's going on with you. You sound worn-out."

Abby sighed. "I am, a little. It's been a long day. We had a strategy meeting and learned the Clean Air Bill is in danger of being watered down. And there's going to be an 'invitation only' dinner to raise campaign money for some of the key legislators. It's sponsored by-guess who?"

"Dudley Kyle and PP International."

"Right. One thousand dollars a plate. A lot of money for the politicians."

"But there are still some legislators that support the bill, right?"

"Yes, but will it be enough? We don't know. The good news is that PP International is having their share of problems too. I guess it was discovered they're using migrant workers, illegal aliens, in one of their operations in Minnesota. Now they're under investigation. We're hoping it brings some publicity our way. And if they're fined, it could cut into their expansion capital."

"Making it difficult to build the set-up in our county."

"Exactly."

"Have you learned who the investors are yet?"

"No, since it's a private company, there's no record. But we still have people checking into it." Abby sighed again.

Abby's voice sounded so discouraged and not at all like her. My face settled into a frown.

"What else is going on?" I asked.

"Oh, I'm worried about Harley."

Harley? Had he threatened Abby? I felt my hand tighten around the receiver. "What's he done now?"

"Arthur said-"

"Arthur?"

"Stumpy?"

"That's right. I forget he has a real name. Sorry, go ahead. What about Arthur?"

"When we had dinner after the meeting, he said Harley's been in the bar making rash statements about what needs to be done to stop the building project. Harley's operating from emotions, not logic. If he continues, he could hurt the group's credibility."

So Harley was shooting his mouth off at the bar, not hara.s.sing Abby. I loosened my death grip on the phone. "Can't you muzzle him?"

"Nice idea, but no. Harley is a bitter, unhappy man. Edna told me he had hoped coming back to farm his mother's place would solve his problems. He used to drive a semi, you know, and he hated it. But things haven't worked out like he thought they would. His wife left him five years ago, taking his sons with her. And now he thinks PP International will squeeze him out. I also sense he likes the attention he's getting. People are listening to him, especially when he spouts off about the hog confinement issue." She paused. "But enough of that-let's talk about you. Tell me about the convention. Are you having a good time?"

"It's okay-you know how it is. Some of the speakers are good, some aren't. Darci is enjoying herself. She met a product rep, thought he was cute, now she has a date with him tonight."

Abby chuckled. "Darci's good at making her own fun, isn't she? This friendship is good for you; you might learn something from her."