What's a Witch to Do?: A Midnight Magic Mystery (20 page)

“Mona, I wasn’t—”

A stiff breeze wafts through the barn. I hear the crack above but don’t have time to put the source and noise together. I glance up and just watch like an
mo-ron
as a piece of wood falls from the roof toward me. I feel a scream coming, but the force of two hundred pounds of muscle grabbing and spinning me out of the way stifles it. The moment we stop moving, the plank smacks right where I was standing. I gasp and clutch onto Adam’s shirt. “Hell’s bells,” I say.

My rescuer and I both breathe heavily, our chests moving in rhythm. I realize they’re pressed together, and we’re embracing each other like lovers. The adrenaline sends my senses into overload. His raspy breathing echoes, his hot body mingles with mine, and the scent of soap mixed with stale sweat intoxicates me.

“Are you okay?” he asks. I nod. “Come on.” Arm still enveloping me, he leads me out of the barn. When we’re safely outside he gazes at me, checking my head and forehead for damage. When he doesn’t find any, his body relaxes a little. He doesn’t let me go though. “Thank God. Are you sure you’re okay?”

As long as we stay exactly like this, all is right in the world. “I—I’m fine.”

“I swear, I think you’re cursed,” he says with a laugh. “A walking damn disaster area.”

“Th—that’s me,” I say with an awkward chuckle.

Still smiling, he smoothes my hair and finally meets my eyes, that beautiful smile slowly wavering to nothing. He searches intently for something in my eyes, but I give nothing but anticipation and lust. There’s nothing but
this
. This is it, the right moment. He can throw me down and have his way with me, and I won’t resist. Oh
please
… damn it!

All mirth leaves his eyes a second later. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was disappointed. All emotion vanishes, replaced with a blank screen. He pulls away with a smile. “We better get out of here before it starts raining brimstone and frogs. Come on.” He starts walking back to the car, leaving me shivering from the adrenaline and frigidity left in his wake. I hug myself to stop it. It doesn’t work. Only one thing can fix it and he’s walking away. I can’t take much more of this, whatever
this
is.

I give myself a second to collect myself, forcing the mortification and deep regret down. Years of practice pay off once again. I square my shoulders then amble back to the car as if nothing happened. Without a word, I get into the car and start the engine, nary even a glance at Adam. I can’t wait to get to the police station. Maybe one of the officers will let me borrow their gun so I can shoot myself for being such a mo-ron.

• Review evidence with Sheriff Andrews
  

The Gardenia County Sheriff’s station is located one town over in Juniper. They have a satellite office in Goodnight with two part-time officers posted there, but Sheriff Andrews works out of this one-story brick building. I’ve only been here a few times with Daddy when we had to pick up Ivy after she got caught being scandalous. It hasn’t changed a lick since those days, with a drab waiting area and wooden counter for reception. The officer at the front runs back to get the sheriff for us. Andrews appears a second later, all smiles. “Miss McGregor. Nice to see you.”

“This is my cousin, A.J.,” I say of the silent man behind me. Hasn’t uttered a word since the barn, thank the goddess. “We were wondering if you had a minute?”

“Of course,” he says, lifting the partition. “Come on back.” Andrews leads us into his cluttered office filled with boxes of files. We sit in the chairs across from him. “I’ve been meaning to call you.”

“Same here. We wanted to stop by to maybe get a look at what you collected from the barn.”

“There wasn’t much there, I’m afraid. Some blood on that pentagram, wax from candles, dust, and salt. We took photos before we collected all the paraphernalia.” He takes the top file off and hands it to me. The white paint of the inverted pentagram is stained red with blood with pools of black wax on the sides of it. Circled around that is salt to trap the demon. Near the bottom of the pentagram the salt has been removed to let the demon out after he agreed to do her dirty work. The next few photos are of the same area at different angles.

“There weren’t any gemstones or other ritual items?” I ask.

“Nope, that’s all we found.”

“So there’s no chance of fingerprints or DNA?” I ask, dejected.

“Sorry,” Andrews says. “I can tell you that the blood came from a dog, but we didn’t find the carcass.”

“Did anyone report any pets missing?” Adam asks. “She might have stolen one.”

“We checked into that. The few that weren’t found at the pound, I spoke to their owners. No one saw anyone steal them, and they found their gates open.”

Another freaking dead end. “Would it be possible to see what you collected from the barn?” I ask.

“Sure.” He moves his chair back, bends down, and pulls out a box, which Adam takes. “Right now all we have is a case of animal cruelty. I can’t exactly arrest someone for summoning a demon.”

Adam opens the box and pulls out the baggies with the residue of four candles, a small plank of wood, a vial of powder, and another with salt. He opens the evidence bag with a candle.

Andrews balks. “You can’t do that.”

Adam ignores him, inhaling the scent. “Sulfur mostly,” Adam says, “blood, and cigarettes. Faint but there. Also a latex smell.”

“Probably wore gloves so she didn’t ruin her nails,” I offer.

He opens the other bags, with Andrews grimacing each time, and sniffs. “More of the same, though the wood smells of ectoplasm and fire.”

“You don’t get anything else? No perfume or personal scent?” I ask.

“I can barely pick up the latex and cigarettes, and with those I can’t be a hundred percent positive. The sulfur is overpowering.”

“Crap.” It’s official. I am beyond frustrated in every conceivable way. Can just one darn thing go my way? “Thanks for your help, Sheriff.” I walk out of his office and the station without looking at another living soul. I’m not feeling very up with people right now. They’re either disappointing me, trying to kill me, or sending me mixed signals, all of which are doing my head in. The gray sky isn’t helping matters either. Demon, take me now.

Adam catches up to me as I step outside. “We should go back to Cheyenne’s house and gather her ritual knives. They might still have dog blood on them.”

“I examined them. They were spotless. Plus Andrews would want to know where we got them or h
e’
d drag Cheyenne in, and w
e’
d lose our element of surprise.”

He grabs my arm and pulls me to a standstill. “But—”

I jerk my arm away and keep walking. I just want to go back to my shop and hide in the back until it’s time to go home, where I fully intend to crawl into bed and pull the covers over my head until this is all over. I get into the car and start it. Adam has three seconds to get in here or he’s walking. He just makes it.

If the ride here was uncomfortable, the ride back is downright painful. I keep pushing the radio button but there’s nothing on. I shut the damn thing off. But thirty seconds of silence is worse, so I turn it back on and settle on a commercial.

“I know this is a stupid question,” Adam says, “but are you okay?”

I scoff. “If you know it’s stupid, why ask it?”

“I’ll take that as a no.” He pauses. “Was it something I did?”

Yeah, you jerk. You let me think for a second I was desirable,
twice,
then all but laughed in my face at my stupidity. Okay, maybe that’s a tad harsh, but my Achilles’ Heel was exposed and he cut it, intentionally or not. Can’t let him know this though. “Of course not. You saved my life today. I’m just … ” sad, confused, scared, frustrated, “tired. I just want things to go back to normal.” I glance at him. “I’m sure you do too.”

“Yeah,” he says after a pause. And for the rest of the ride, the only sounds come from Miranda Lambert.

Alice, with her narrowed eyes and folded arms, does not hide her annoyance at my extended lunch break, but I glare as I pass. The perk of being the boss: no castigation from my subordinates. I shut the curtain and plop my head down at my desk with a sigh. A few seconds later the drill starts, doing nothing to improve my mood. Just think a week ahead. A week from now everything will have settled down. No meetings, no festival, no wedding, goddess-willing Cheyenne will be behind bars, and Adam will be back in Maryland howling at the moon. I will be able to repress everything about this week. Maybe I’ll even make a forgetting potion. Best damn idea I’ve had all week.

I sit up and smooth my hair. That’s when I notice what’s right in front of me, the flowers on my desk. More red roses. The day’s events have taken their toll already, because I feel no thrill like before. I pull out the card and put on my reading glasses. “
Mona, Can’t wait for tonight. Guy
.”

Ugh, I totally forgot about tonight. Really. How the hell could I have forgotten my first date with the man of my dreams? Maybe I should call and cancel. I have neither the desire nor energy for being funny or flirting. The image of Cheyenne and Adam on that couch last night springs to mind, and I grimace. No, if I cancel I’m letting that ho-bag win. No passion? Not desirable? Hell, I’ll show her. If there’s even half a chance of it, I’m gonna sleep with him. A lot. That’ll show them all.

With my head up and flowers in hand, I stroll into the front. Adam is leveling a shelf and eyes me as I come out. I stick the flowers on the counter. “Alice, I have an errand to run. Do you need anything at the drugstore?”

“I could use some Excedrin if he’s going to be keeping that up,” A
lice says with a sneer.

“You got it. Oh, and if Dr. Sutcliffe calls, thank him for the flowers, and tell him I can’t wait either. Be right back.”

As I knew he would, Adam trails me out without my say-so. Every time he reaches my side, I pick up the pace so he’s a step behind. The drugstore is just around the corner, and Maynard Jefferts holds the door for me as I enter. I pick up a basket and start shopping. Excedrin for Alice. Hair dye a few shades darker than mine to cover the stray gray hairs, red nail polish, mascara, eyeliner, and three new lipsticks to match my new hair all go in the basket. Too bad they don’t sell dresses too. I have no clue what I’ll wear tonight. I also grab pantyhose, control top if you must know. Have to break out the Spanx too. I’ll just change out of it before we do the nasty. Thinking of …

I move down Aisle Four feeling like a self-conscious weirdo, checking over my shoulder to see if people are judging me. They all know why I’m coming down here. There are about a dozen multi-colored boxes of condoms all with different boasts. For his pleasure, for her pleasure, ribbed, lubricated, ultra-smooth. I am way out of my element.

I’ve only had sex three times in my life. The first hurt like hell, the second wasn’t much better, and the third was over in a literal minute. And that was fifteen years ago. My bravado tanks. This is insane. I can’t do this. Sex on a first date? Hell, any sex at all with a man who’s prettier than me? What if he wants to see me naked? There isn’t enough darkness in the world to conceal my cellulite. Crap. Abort mission! Abort! I’m about to slink away when Adam strides down the aisle with a razor and four packets of beef jerky in his hands. Double crap. My back straightens, and I pick up a lubricated box, examining it. “You’re a guy. Which of these is the best?” I ask nonchalantly.

He dumps his items in the basket and walks away without a word. I smirk to myself and grab the ultra-thins and some K-Y just in case. Adam is nowhere to be found, but I check out anyway. I turn beet red when Rosie scans my items, but her face stays neutral. I hustle out of the shop before anyone else can see my shame.

Adam waits outside, phone pressed to his ear. “ … don’t know how much longer I can keep this up, Viv. I’m going out of my fucking mind. I—” He sees me and balks as if I’ve caught him hiding a body. “Um, yeah, I have to go. Thanks.” He turns off the phone. “That was Vivian.” Jason’s wife.

“Oh. Next time you talk to her, give her my best.” I pull out one of the jerkeys and toss it to him. “Jerky’s on me.”

And I strut away like a supermodel, my smile dropping when he’s out of sight.

• Be subjected to hours of torture in the name of beauty
  

The minutes turn to hours far too slowly. Customers filter in, but Alice has them well in hand. I’m feeling creative so I stencil in the rest of the new window and start painting. Adam finishes about two thirds of the shelves before leaving to pick up the girls. We don’t utter a word to one another except, “Bye,” the whole time. He didn’t even offer me any jerky.

At five, just as I’m cleaning up the paint, Hurricane Tamara rolls in. She’s out of breath as she steps over to me, eyes bugging out of her head. “You’re not ready to go? We only have three hours to get you beautiful.”

“It won’t take that long,” I say.

“Oh lord, sometimes I think you don’t have a feminine bone in your body! Get your purse. We have a lot of work to do.” She literally pushes me into the back.

“I have to close alone?” Alice asks.

“You can handle it,” Tamara says, still pushing.

I put away all the paints, shut off the computer, and grab my purse. Tam examines the flowers, and just as she’s about to peek inside the drugstore bag, I snatch it away. “No.”

Saying goodnight to the perturbed Alice, I follow the impatient Tamara out of the store. “So are you excited?” she asks when we get to her car.

“It’s just a date, Tam.”

“With a gorgeous doctor who you fell in crush at first sight with.” She pauses. “And who, judging from the contents of your bag, you plan on getting down and dirty with.”

“What? I—”