A Witch's Path (10 page)

She scraped the toe of her shoe along the floor mat. "No." A gulp of coffee later she continued. "I'll tell him the truth, but if it comes back on me because no one will back me up, I'm going to blame you."

"You sure are full of hot air.
 
You'll blame yourself, the shifters, the police, Detective Wells, the guy who took her, and then me." I ticked them off on my fingers. "We both know you'll never forgive yourself if you can't find Amber." I said softly.
 

"Michelle, I'm scared."

"I know. I am too," I said softly. "Now, let's go."
 

Tiffany trailed behind me like a lost puppy. Considering her usual spunky attitude, it was disheartening to see her so lost. I hoped she would bounce back after the police began their investigation, but I had a feeling she wouldn't feel right until the three of us were laughing over pizza again.

With that thought, my stomach knotted. If the police didn't rescue Amber, I stood to lose two friends. I quickly brushed the moisture away from my eyes, blinking to focus on the building in front of me.
   

The sheriff's office was a large brick building with white trim and glass doors. Once we were inside, I made a beeline for the receptionist; a heavy woman with glasses and short curly hair.
 

"Good morning," she smiled. "How can I help you?"

"We need to speak with Detective Wells. Is he in?"
 

"Your names?"
 

"Michelle Oaks and Tiffany Long."

"Please sit down. I'll see if he's available."
 

"Thank you." I steered Tiffany away as the receptionist picked up the phone.

The seats in the small waiting area were hard plastic. I would've criticized the decor, but I had a feeling the chairs lived a rough life. Scattered between the chairs were side tables with stacks of National Geographic magazines. I picked up one with a rare black unicorn on the cover, and began reading about secluded tribes of unicorns living in Wyoming. The article featured a herd looking for a way to continue living a semi-nomadic life style, and have the advantages of modern life. The unicorns had partnered with local ranchers to assume many of the duties they would typically need a person to accomplish. The unicorns would patrol the fences, look after the livestock, and report any problems requiring opposable thumbs to the ranchers. In return, the unicorns had shelter, food, people aware of their location in case of trouble, and a small stipend.
 

"Ladies?" A deep voice asked. "I'm Detective Wells. What can I do for you?"

I looked up to see a very average looking man. He was just shy of six feet, neither thin, nor broad. His two most distinguishing features were his dirty blond hair and definition in his muscles.
 

"Hi," I said as I stood up, and reached out to shake his hand. "I'm Michelle Oaks. Thank you for seeing us." He hesitated, but reached forward to shake my hand. I revised my earlier assessment. The most notable aspect of the detective would be the six fingers on both his hands.
 

"Nice to meet you." He said, clearly relieved that I wasn't bothered by his extra fingers.
 

Tiffany reached around me to introduce herself. "Tiffany Long."

After shaking her hand, Detective Wells stuffed his hands in his pockets. "If you ladies will follow me, we can talk at my desk."

We followed him down a short hall and into a room with ten desks. Four of them had uniformed men and women at work.
 
He motioned for us to sit across from a well-organized desk at the back of the room.

"What can I do for you?" Detective Wells asked.

Beside me, Tiffany froze. Shifting in my seat, I stomped on her toe while I answered the question. "Tiffany would like to report a crime."
 

He shifted his gaze to her. With a squeak, she started talking "Last night, our friend, Amber, was kidnapped."
 

"Ms. Long—"
   

"Please call me Tiffany."
 

"Tiffany, did you witness the abduction?"
 

"Yes."

"Please describe the events." He slid a legal pad to the center of the desk and pulled a pen out of a drawer.

Tiffany looked at me, and I waved my hand at her. She needed to get on with it; Amber was counting on her. Tiffany dropped her eyes before turning back to the detective. "Yesterday Amber asked me to accompany her to a meeting that bird shifters have. She was worried, and I don't know why. She never said."

I listened to Tiffany tell the story again. This time the story made sense because she told it in order. She went through the entire sequence of events, from arriving at the house, Amber's kidnapping, checking on the other shifters, and her attempts to talk to the police.
 

"The shifters wouldn't tell me much. Amber had been at the front door when they were attacked. She must have run out hoping to escape." Tiffany was speaking in a flat voice, devoid of emotion. Her eyes weren't focused on the detective, but on some distant point only she could see. If I hadn't known better I would've said she was hypnotized.
 

"One of them told me Adder, a werewolf, might have taken her. The most the rest would say was that their attackers had smelled like werewolves. They wouldn't let me use their phone to report her abduction because they didn't want to be involved. I went back to my car and found my phone. I called nine-one-one, but the operator told me anyone could've taken Amber. He told me to call back if she didn't show up in the morning. I drove to Michelle's house, hoping she would help. This morning she told me we were coming up here to make a report, so here I am. I just want to find Amber. She trusted me to keep her safe and I failed." With that Tiffany broke down, softly sobbing.

Detective Wells handed me a box of tissues. I pushed one into Tiffany's hand. She blew her nose and dried her eyes.

While Tiffany cried, I told my side of the story starting from the time we entered my apartment, through the phone call with Mark, to dragging her in here. The detective asked me a few questions to clarify points, and turned his attention to the now sniffling Tiffany.

Detective Wells said, "Tiffany, I need to ask you a few more questions. It would help me, and Amber, if you could answer them." She choked on a sob, and nodded. "What kind of meeting was Amber at? Was there anything special about her? Where does she work?"

"All I know is that it was for bird shifters that didn't have a flock of their own kind in this area. She's a werepeahen. You know the female version of a peacock? That's the most unique thing about her," Tiffany said.

I answered the work question since Tiffany was blowing her nose. "She's a paralegal at Dotson and Company in Canton."
 

"Tiffany, what time did you call nine-one-one? What were you told?"

Tiffany flipped open her phone, to check. "Eight fifty-three. The guy I talked to said he could send a car through the neighborhood to look for anything suspicious. I could report her missing if she didn't show up in the morning. He told me I might have seen a sex game, or her boyfriend. Amber isn't the type. If she'd wanted me to drop her off for a game, she would've told me. And her boyfriend is a very nice human. Mark wouldn't do something like this."

"What's her boyfriend's full name?" Detective Wells asked.
 

"Mark Baker."

"Do you know what types of birds the other shifters are?"
 

Tiffany shook her head, "No."
 

"Could you describe the person who took Amber?"

"Not really. It was a man. He was big, very muscular. I couldn't see any of his features because he was wearing a high collared, long sleeve shirt, ski mask, gloves, and pants."

"How tall?"
 

"Six-three?" Tiffany answered.

"Did he say anything?"

"I don't remember."

"Why did the shifter think Adder was the man who abducted Amber?"
 

"He didn't say." With that Tiffany resumed crying.

I gave Tiffany another tissue and locked eyes with the man on the other side of the desk. Tiffany blew her nose, and plucked another tissue out of the box.
 

We studied each other, waiting for someone to break. Detective Wells dropped his pencil and his six fingered hand began tapping on the desk. "Ladies, let me be frank. I think you witnessed something terrible happen to your friend, and when the people who should've helped you didn't, you went to Ms. Oaks. Ms. Oaks has a very good reputation, which is an integral part of her business. She has no reason to damage that image. Tiffany, you are a respected private investigator. The worst that can be said about you is that you tend to work on cases relating to cheating spouses. As that is a perfectly respectable way to earn a living, and a blemish on your reputation would injure your business, you have no reason to lie. What I don't believe is Simon allowing Adder to stalk and abduct a woman."
 

Tiffany sat there looking shocked, while Detective Wells studied our reaction. Leaning forward, I matched his gaze. "I don't think he did. I heard a rumor that there has been a shift of power in the pack."

For a second, Detective Wells' profile wavered. He coughed, his profile solidifying, and he remained human.
 

I continued speaking as if nothing had occurred. "While you ponder that, and decide which questions you'd like to ask me, would you answer a question for me? What kind of shifter are you?"

His head tilted as he considered. "I'm a wereoctopus."

"Why live here?" I kept my jaw attached to my face, and didn't say anything stupid. I didn't expect someone who shifted into an ocean creature to be living in the land locked North Georgia mountains.
 

"Have you read about octopi? We tend to be deep ocean creatures, and I don't have any desire to be snacked on by a shark or orca. It's not fun to shift at the surface, swim down to a dark area, and chill out while trying to avoid being eaten. I can have more fun in Carter's Lake or Lake Blue Ridge."

"I hadn't thought of it that way. If you don't mind me asking, do all wereoctopi have extra digits?"

"Most of us have one extra finger or toe. It's very rare for someone to have extra digits on both hands."

The look on his face told me to stop asking questions about fingers and toes. "Thank you."

"No, thank you. It's refreshing to meet someone who doesn't look at me like I'm a science project gone wrong."
 

"You're welcome. Anyone who thinks that of you hasn't been around enough crazy witches. Send them my way. I know a few mad scientists who can set them straight."

He chuckled. "I hate to return this to unhappy topics, but I need to know why you think Simon isn't in charge of the pack. I hadn't heard that bit of gossip."

"Well," I answered, "there's the part about Adder taking Amber, but the real reason is because I heard it through the shifter grapevine. I don't have any evidence, or any names to give you."

 
Detective Wells sighed. "I'll see what I can do, but unless I get other witness statements or creditable corroborating evidence, I don't have enough to focus on any individual."

Before he could finish my phone rang. "I'm sorry I have to get this." I moved to a wall a few feet from his desk. "Oaks Consulting."

"This is Patrick Westmoreland with the Gilmer County Sheriff's Office. Could you tell me if an Energy Sensor was working? Half the ones I had active last night registered high levels of evil."

"Sure, but I would have to see the sensor in person."

"That's fine. My boss was willing to accept Package Five, the one that allows for hourly and case by case rates."

"Alright, we can sign the paperwork."

"When could you come by?" Patrick asked.
 

"I'm at the Gilmer sheriff's office right now. I was here on an unrelated matter speaking to Detective Wells."

"Oh, do you have time to look at it now?"

"Sure. I'll be over in a few minutes."
 

I walked back over to hear Detective Wells ask Tiffany if she wanted to file an official missing persons report.
 

"Excuse me. I need to attend to some business. Do you need me for anything?" I asked Wells.
 

"No. I have your number. If I have any more questions I can call you," he answered.

"Tiffany, I need to do some work here. Give me a call when you're done."

She nodded. "Ok, go deal with your business. I have a lot of papers to fill out."

I waited, rather awkwardly, by the door.
 

"Ms. Oaks?"

I turned to see a young guy, only a couple inches taller than me, with fiery red hair, standing nervously a few feet from me.
 

"I'm Patrick."
 

I held out my hand. "It's nice to meet you. I don't have the paperwork with me, but I can send it over later. Where are the sensors?" His hand shake nearly broke my bones.

"This way." He started walking. "Works for me. If I don't have the contract in a day or two, I'll give you a call."
 

I followed him through the door, down the hall, and into a small room on an outside wall of the building.
 

Patrick said, "I'm sorry if you're cold. They built this room so the walls would blow out if there was an explosion. It makes it hard to keep it warm."

His office had an old metal desk against one wall, with charts and papers strewn across it. The other wall had a long counter with a sink on one end. Two Energy Sensors were sitting on the counter and there was a box of them on a floor.
 

"These are a few of the sensors that tripped. The two on the counter surged to 'Very Evil,' temporarily returned to 'Bad Vibe,' and have now been stuck at 'Evil' for eight hours." Patrick gestured to the ones in the box on the floor. "Those suffered a similar fate. Before I tinker with them, I'd like to know if they're broken or if that's what they're sensing."