Southern Witch - Would-Be Witch Part 3

I squinched my eyes shut and tried to keep the tears from escaping. Doc Barnaby had poisoned me and made me look like a fool and a drug addict. He wasn't going to get me to cry, too.

"It's one of two reasons that you aren't telling me who you were with. Either you can't remember because you were too messed up, or you're protecting whoever it was because you're worried about what I'll do. Well, I'm here to tell you, I'm gonna find out. And when I figure out who it was, I'm going to kick the ever-lovin' s.h.i.t out of him."

I felt him kiss me on the forehead.

"Anybody leaves my baby like this is going to answer to me," he said, picking me back up. He carried me to the bedroom and tucked me into bed.

The tears dripped from my eyes. Not because I was mad at Barnaby, the finger-stabbing, poison-pushing b.a.s.t.a.r.d, but because Zach's country boy, he-man routine does it for me every time.

To find Zach when I woke up, I followed the sound of Toby Keith singing. Zach was on the phone but hung up when he saw me. A yellow legal pad of notes sat next to a half-eaten pizza and empty Bud bottle.

"How you feelin'?"

"Like a cement smoother rolled over my head." My stomach grumbled. I took that as a sign that, despite the poison, I wouldn't be staring up at a tombstone or living in a locket any time soon.

"Wanna tell me who you were with?"

"I did," I said, pulling a slice of pizza free and taking a big bite.

"Uh-huh."

"Barnaby poisoned me."

"Why would he do that?"

"I don't know. I'm a pastry chef. Detecting is your job."

"You were a pastry chef. Miss Cookie told me you quit."

"Miss Cookie fired me for not letting Jenna Reitgarten serve me my pride on a cake plate."

"Jenna again? I thought you were over that."

"I am," I said, pulling the legal pad to me. At the top, there was a list of the stolen items and their estimated values. I realized that they were listed in terms of importance, and my locket was at the bottom of the list.

The yellow diamond ring and Mrs. Faber's Jag were at the top. Two pendant necklaces, a pair of earrings, and Bryn's Rolex were next. Then Edie.

"Where's all the other stuff? Everybody was putting stuff in the bag," I said.

"Yeah, but most of the stuff was fake jewelry for their costumes. Not really valuable."

"Oh. Did they take money?"

"They got a few wallets and purses. Not too much cash from any one person."

"They were trying to pretend it was a show for the party by wearing those costumes. As Georgia would say, an inside job. Inside the town, that is."

"Mmm-hmm. We did think of that, but thanks for the help," he said, sliding the pad back over to him.

I frowned. I wasn't in the mood for sarcasm. In fact, I wasn't in the mood for much of anything, except, it seemed, pizza. I devoured another slice.

"I've got to get back to the station."

"Any new information? Do you have any idea who did it?"

"Nope," he said, getting up. He leaned over me and stole a kiss. "Stay out of trouble."

Nope. I planned to get right back into trouble the minute he left.

Chapter 4.

There are some spells that I know pretty well from having seen my momma and Aunt Mel do them. They were always losing their keys and things and scrying for them instead of looking around.

I sat for nearly an hour with my face over a bowl of water trying to scry for the locket, but I could only make out watery shadows. It's an advanced technique that requires deep energy and concentration, which, let's face it, I don't have. My head was back to throbbing, so I put a cold washcloth over my eyes for fifteen minutes and ate a handful of Hershey's Kisses to fortify me. Then I got up and collected some odds and ends from around the house that I needed for my next try at a spell.

Though I didn't hold out much hope for them working, I had to try something. And Edie and I were connected mystically through the magical line. Now if I could just remember the details of the spells.

When I was little I used to read Momma and Aunt Mel's spellbooks all the time, thinking I'd be coming into my own big powers one day. When I finally realized I wouldn't be a real witch, I gave up on the books, favoring cookbooks and brides' magazines. After I married Zach at eighteen, I'd had other things on my mind. I'd moved on to a normal life and hadn't looked back. Now it had been five years since I'd looked at a spell.

I found a picture of Momma wearing the locket, so I cut out just the locket, then snipped a strand of my hair and a couple pieces of twine. I set myself up at the kitchen counter with an incense stick, some matches, and a pair of small white envelopes. I stood the stick in a faded "Kiss the Blarney Stone" coffee cup and lit the stick. The smell of pine wafted through the air. I pa.s.sed the locket picture, my hair, and the twine three times through the smoke to purify them of anyone else's energy. I concentrated hard on the items as I used the twine to bind the locket photo to the strand of my hair.

"Thanks to the person who brings the locket back to me. Thanks to the person who brings the locket back to me. Thanks to the person who brings the locket back to me at least before October twenty-fourth."

I put the hair-locket wrap into one of the envelopes and sealed it. The other important thing that I needed to do was to prevent Edie from coming out of the locket while someone else had it. I never saw Momma or Aunt Mel do a spell to bind a spirit, so I didn't really know what to do. But since it wasn't likely to work anyway, I decided to keep things as simple as possible.

I took a photo of Edie and pa.s.sed it through the pine smoke, then rolled it into a small tube. I used a bit more of the purified twine to tie the picture up that way.

"You are happy in the locket, Edie. You stay in the locket. You are at peace in the locket, Edie."

I put the rolled picture into the other envelope and sealed it. I took the two envelopes into the bedroom and placed them in the bottom drawer of the jewelry box, which Aunt Mel had always kept empty for the products of meaningful actions. I didn't want anyone to open the envelopes or mess with them before the locket-return spell came true.

I closed the doors of the jewelry box and hugged it. I hoped a little of Momma's and Aunt Mel's power was still around to help me.

Afterward, I lay down with a cold pack over my eyes and had just gotten comfortable when the doorbell rang. I waited, hoping whoever it was would leave. The doorbell rang again insistently, and I got up and went to see who it was. I paused when I looked out. Bryn Lyons stood just outside, looking tasty even through the smudged peephole. I opened the door.

He held a large cage that was covered with a swath of deep brown satin. The smell of sandalwood was strong, and the faint reverberation of magic hummed over my skin. I was surprised again that I could sense his magic so well.

"What can I do for you?"

He smiled. "What did you have in mind?"

I thought about great-great-grandma's list. "I can't invite you in."

His smile faded, and he c.o.c.ked his head. "I wish you'd tell me why you won't a.s.sociate with me. Have you had some sort of premonition you're worried about?"

I just smiled and shrugged.

"How about a short ride? We'll go to a neutral place like Magnolia Park. I need to talk to you."

I eyed the cage. "What do you have there? Canary?"

"A gift for you. And before you say no, hear me out. You need it."

"I'll meet you in the park in half an hour."

"You want me to sit around for thirty minutes waiting for you?" he asked skeptically. "Maybe I'll just forget that I was going to help you and go home."

"My car is in the shop. It'll take me a while to walk there."

"And there's no way that you'd just get in my car and drive over with me?"

"No, I really can't, but thank you for the offer," I said, glancing at his black Mercedes with tinted windows.

"Thirty minutes then."

When I got to the park, I found him sitting at a picnic table. He looked out of place in his dark designer suit. His shirt probably cost more than the park's monthly landscaping budget.

The covered cage was sitting in the center of the table and my gaze went to it more than once as I sat down on the bench across from him.

"You've been in trouble."

"I lost my great-great-grandmother's locket."

He shook his head. "I'm not talking about that. You were in danger sometime earlier today."

I narrowed my eyes. "What makes you say that?"

"I felt it. You called out for help."

"You were a little far away to hear me."

"I meant psychically."

"I know what you meant. n.o.body could hear my psychic cries. They're too faint. I'd say it's more likely you heard I had trouble courtesy of Ma Bell. Zach called all my friends. They probably called all their friends and so on. My guess is that the whole town knows I went missing this afternoon and evening."

"And the reason I know you were doing magic just before I rang the doorbell?"

I raised my eyebrows. He probably thought that his knowing would give me the w.i.l.l.i.e.s, but I took a more practical view of things. If Bryn Lyons, a known pract.i.tioner, had sensed me working, then maybe my spells might actually do their job. And that made me happier than a bee face-first in nectar.

"I'm not sure what your family told you about Duvall, but it's a tuning fork for psychic energy. Macon Hill is a tor, a ley center. Ten ley lines, conduits for the earth's heightened energy, converge at the tor. The lines travel outward for thousands of miles. If I felt you casting spells, so did others. Yours is a raw energy that's untrained, but someone experienced could exploit it."

"I don't have enough power for anyone to bother coming thousands of miles to see me."

Bryn folded his arms over his chest and stared at me.

"I don't. I've never had it. My momma and Aunt Melanie tried a bunch of times to bring it out of me when I was a teenager."

"Maybe they weren't the right people to train you. Maybe your power has different origins from theirs."

"What have you found out about the robbery? Did you hire anyone to find your Rolex?"

"I can buy another Rolex."

"But you said that you would get even with the thieves."

"I don't have to find them to get even with them. They've taken something of mine. I can cast a spell that will reach them wherever they are."

I shivered. His eyes sparkled in the bit of illumination cast by the street lamp. I'd seen him on and off for years, but I'd never been afraid of him until now.

"Well, it's been nice chatting with you." I stood up and he reached over and caught my arm.

"Wait."

"Look, I can't get involved with you. If there's any training to be done, you're not going to be the one to do it. Now let go of me."

"You don't know when or if your mother and aunt are coming back."

"They are coming back!"

"Tamara-"

"Stop calling me that. We're not such close friends that you get to call me different than everyone else does. It's Tammy or Tammy Jo, period."

He let go of my arm. "When you need help, you know where I live."

Yeah, he lived in Sh.o.r.eside Oaks, along with most of the wealthiest folks in Duvall. His back acreage looked out onto the Amanos River. He probably even had a view of Cider Falls. Nice land if you could afford it.

Bryn got up and walked toward his car.

"Hey, what about this?" I asked, motioning to the cage.

"He's yours. If you don't want to take him home, just open the cage and turn him loose. He and Angus wouldn't get along."

"Who's Angus?"

"My dog," he said, climbing into his car. He left me sitting in the darkness with the cage. I pulled the satin cover off. A pair of big, dark eyes reflected the lamplight and stared back at me. The cat was tawny and beautiful, spotted like a leopard.

"Hey there."

He purred.

"I can't keep you. The gorgeous wizard probably wants to use you to spy on me or something. I'm pretty sure he's into the dark arts, which my family tries to avoid. The only thing I like really dark is chocolate." I put my finger in the cage, and he licked it. "It's not personal against you or anything. I just know he can't be trusted. After all, he's a lawyer."

The cat went on licking my fingers. "I don't think you'll starve. Mario's throws out a lot of seafood each night. You like shrimp fettuccini Alfredo?"

What am I doing talking to a cat?

"I'm going to let you out." I opened the front of the cage and he sprang out, landing with a thump on my lap and then using his claws to pull himself up onto two paws.