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Authors: Shirley Damsgaard

Tags: #Horror & Ghost Stories

The Trouble With Witches (10 page)

BOOK: The Trouble With Witches
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When we arrived at the cabin, Lady met us at the door, her tail swishing the air, her need obvious.

"Lady has to go outside. I'll put away the groceries if you want to take her for a walk, Abby," I said, and placed the sack I carried on the counter.

"No," she replied, putting her sack down and handing me Lady's leash. "Why don't you take her?"

I took the leash.
"You sure?"

She smiled and nodded. "Yes, I'm sure. I didn't have time last night to put much away in my bedroom, and I'd like to organize the kitchen while I'm at it."

I should've known. When it came to her kitchen, even a temporary one, Abby tended to be picky. She viewed it as the heart of any home, and wouldn't be content until she had everything organized.

"All
righty
, then," I said, and snapped the leash on Lady's collar.

"Wait," she said, stopping me and crossing to the cupboard. Removing a spray bottle, she handed it to me.

I looked at the unmarked bottle. "What's this?"

"Natural bug spray.
I've heard the deer flies are nasty up here."

After spraying my arm, I sniffed. Not bad, lemon. I coated all of my skin left exposed by my shorts and tank top, then sprayed Lady.

Once outside, Lady discreetly took care of business, and we set off down the lane in the opposite direction of the main road. I wanted to see where the road led.

A slight breeze stirred the air, and overhead I heard the cawing of crows. A thick stand of pine grew on either side of the lane, blocking any view of cabins or the lake. It seemed that Lady and I were totally alone.

She ran from side to side, pulling the retractable leash out as far as it would go. Nose pressed to the ground and tail wagging a happy rhythm, she acted like she couldn't inhale all the new smells fast enough. She was so intent on smelling everything that she startled a blue jay pecking in the tall weeds. The angry bird took flight, scolding the intruder all the way. Lady, as startled as the blue jay, plopped down on her haunches, and with her head cocked to one side, stared after the bird.

I laughed at the look on her face. "What's wrong, girl?
That mean
old bird scares you?"

Laying her ears back, she stood and wiggled her way toward me.

"It's okay." I bent down and scratched her ears. "He's gone."

Reassured, she resumed her hunt for new smells.

The lane narrowed, while the trees encroached closer and closer to its edge. I saw bugs swarming in the air ahead of us, but Abby's spray kept them away. Finally, I saw a steep path off to my left, and through the trees, the lake shimmering in the sunlight.

"Shall we go see what's down by the water?" I said aloud to Lady.

She answered me by bounding down the path. I followed, trying to keep my footing on the packed dirt as Lady pulled me forward. We came to a stop at the bottom of the hill, and to my surprise, I saw we weren't alone after all.

A young girl, about thirteen or fourteen, sat on a large rock at the lake's shore. From my spot behind her, I saw long blond hair tumbling down her back. Gangly arms, sticking out from the short sleeves of the white top she wore, were braced against the rock. I heard the rhythmic splash of her feet in the water and the clear notes of a song that she sang to herself. A soft, happy, almost wordless song I didn't recognize.

"Hi," I said, my voice breaking into her song.

Her head snapped around, and violet eyes, unlike any I'd ever seen, widened in surprise. She jumped up from her perch on the rock and stared at me, like a wild thing when suddenly confronted. She had a small build, all arms and legs. And her incredible eyes were set in a pale, delicate face.

She reminded me of a wood sprite.

Uncomfortable under the girl's intent gaze, I broke eye contact and looked around, trying to think of something to say to break the silence growing larger with every passing moment. I spied a shiny object hanging from the tree branch between where I stood and the girl. It appeared to be a silver necklace shaped like a spider's web with a bright red stone placed dead center in the web.

"That's pretty," I said, my hand moving toward the necklace.

"Don't touch it!" She scrambled toward the tree, and grabbing the necklace, shoved it in the pocket of her baggy white shorts.

Now that she was over her initial surprise, the girl didn't seem to be intimidated by me at all. She gave me the once-over,
then
turned to Lady, who'd been sitting at my side with her tail thumping the ground. "Nice dog," she said, glancing at me before returning her attention to Lady. "Is she friendly?"

"Oh yeah.
Lady doesn't know the meaning of the word 'stranger.'
" I
gave the girl a tentative smile.

Ignoring me, she squatted down and began to pet Lady. "Who are you?" she asked abruptly.

"Ophelia—"

"What are you doing here?" she asked, breaking in.

"I'm on vacation with my grandmother," I said, trying to keep my voice patient.

She looked up at me, her eyes suspicious.
"Lots of lakes in
Minnesota
.
Why did you come to this one?"

Great, I'm being interrogated by a kid. Well, two can play that game.

I ignored her question and asked one of my own. "What's your name?"

She focused again on Lady. "I'm called
Tink
."

Not "My name is
Tink
," but "I'm called
Tink
." It struck me as an odd way to tell someone your name.

"Is that a nickname?"

She answered my question with a shrug and continued to pet the dog.

I tried once more to engage her in conversation. "Do you live around here?" I asked in my most friendly voice.

Another shrug.
"Maybe," she replied in a cocky voice.

Friendly didn't work, so I retreated to sarcasm. "You're not real talkative, are you, kid?"

Before she could answer, a man's voice from the top of the hill called out. "
Tink
, are you down there?"

As she rose to her feet, a look of dismay crossed
Tink's
pale face. "I'm here," she yelled back.

I turned to see a man, also dressed in white, loose fitting clothes, come down the hill.
Thin face, rather aesthetic looking, with dark hair shot with gray.
He had a goatee, also dark with gray streaks. But I couldn't see his eyes. They were hidden behind mirrored sunglasses. The sandals he wore on his feet made his progress difficult. He slipped, and halfway down slid until he reached
Tink
and me.

"Where have you been? We've been looking all over for you," he said, laying a hand on
Tink's
thin arm. "And where's your necklace?"

With a repentant look,
Tink
reached in her pocket and pulled out the necklace. She handed the shiny spider's web to the man.

Taking it from her, he slipped the chain over her head. "You know you're not supposed to take the necklace off, don't you?" he said as he straightened the web till it hung straight. He stepped back and looked her over. "You're clothes are dirty, too," he remarked in an even tone, eyeing the grass and mud stains on her once pristine top. "You'll have to change as soon as we get back."

Silently, with her head down,
Tink
nodded.

Not wanting to hear this guy continue to ream the kid, I cleared my throat.

He looked away from
Tink
to me. "Oh, I'm sorry. How rude of me to ignore you. It's just…" His voice trailed off as he glanced back at
Tink
. "We were worried about her," he said, his eyes returning to me.

"I understand," I said, holding up a hand.

"I'm Jason Finch," he said, taking my upturned hand and shaking it. "And you've already met my niece,
Tink
."

"Ophelia Jensen." So, not a foster child, but a relative, I thought releasing his hand.

"And this is your dog?"

As he said it, he reached out toward Lady, but before he could touch her, she backed away from his outstretched hand.

Embarrassed by Lady's reaction, I gave the leash a small tug and pulled her closer to my side. "Sorry, she acts that way around strangers sometimes," I lied.

Lifting her head at my lie, I saw
Tink
raise her eyebrows, but she remained silent.

"Staying here at the lake?"

"Yes, just down the lane." I pointed to my left.

"
Ahh
, one of the rental cabins." He looked over at
Tink
. "I apologize for rushing off, but I'd better get this young lady home before her aunt calls the sheriff."

"I understand.
Nice to meet you, Jason,
Tink
."

With her eyes downcast,
Tink
walked past me to follow her uncle. Her shoulders slumped as she climbed the steep path, and around her seemed to hang a feeling of dejection, of defeat.

The wood sprite, the singing girl with a cocky attitude, was gone.

 

When I returned to the cabin, Abby had everything cleaned and arranged to her liking. She listened intently while I told her of my meeting with Jason and
Tink
.

"What did you say the necklace looked like?" she asked with a funny expression on her face.

"A spider's web," I said impatiently. Fives times she'd asked me about the stupid necklace. "Now do you think—
"

"You said the necklace had a stone in the center?" she broke in.

"Yeah, a red stone.
Now what I want to know is, do you think—
"

She interrupted me again. "I'm not so sure the necklace isn't important."

"Enough about the dumb necklace.
It's not that big of a deal," I informed her in an exasperated tone. "I've seen a lot of teenagers at the library with them on. They seem to be popular. I want to know—" I held up my hand, stopping her when she opened her mouth. "—if you think Jason and Juliet Finch could be mistreating the girl?"

Her mouth closed and she frowned. "I don't know. Did you see any bruises?"

I thought about
Tink's
pale arms and legs. Any marks would've definitely shown against her fair skin.

"No, but there are many ways to mistreat a child.
Often the marks don't show."

Abby nodded sadly. "I wonder if there've been any rumors. Rick would've mentioned them, I think. And wouldn't Brandi have said something to her mother if she'd noticed abuse?"

I sighed. "Maybe, but what if Brandi didn't know about it?"

"I don't know." Abby pursed her lips. "I would think living that closely
together,
it would be hard to keep the mistreatment a secret."

"Well all I know is the kid changed the instant the uncle showed up."

"And when he placed the spider's web around her neck."

"Oh for Pete's sake," I exclaimed. "Would you forget about the necklace?"

A thoughtful look crossed Abby's face. "No, Ophelia, I don't think we should."

With that, Abby rose and left the room. The discussion was tabled for now.

 

Chapter Eight

BOOK: The Trouble With Witches
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