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Authors: Shirley Damsgaard

Tags: #Horror & Ghost Stories

The Trouble With Witches (22 page)

BOOK: The Trouble With Witches
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Light from the windows spilled across Juliet's face, and I saw lines of worry creasing her brow. Turning her head toward me, I watched her struggle to relax.

Again she glanced at the door. "I hope Jason is able to convince
Tink
to go to bed."

"She has trouble sleeping?"

"Yes."

I was surprised. The girl seemed barely awake during dinner.

"I don't mean to pry, but what are
Tink's
health problems?" I asked.

Juliet gave a long sigh. "Her problems are more emotional than physical.
Tink
has always been difficult, but since her mother died…" Her voice trailed off.

"How did her mother die?"

Juliet rubbed her arms as if suddenly cold. "My sister fell down a flight of stairs, breaking her neck." She stopped rubbing her arms and hugged herself. "We don't know for sure how the accident happened. The only other person in the house at the time was
Tink
."

My eyes widened.
"How terrible.
How old was
Tink
?"

"Five," she said in a small voice.

Now I felt a chill. I crossed my arms and sat back in my chair. "You said
Tink
has always been difficult?
In what way?"

Juliet's eyes took on a faraway look. "Temper tantrums. Even as a toddler, she'd fly into a rage and break toys. Miranda, my sister, tried to hide them from the family, but we knew."

"Where was the father?"

Juliet made a derisive noise. "He took off when Miranda got pregnant. Good riddance, as far as I was concerned. I'd always suspected that he abused Miranda, but she would never admit it." She took a sip of cold tea from the cup Jason had left on the table. "My sister liked her secrets, but she did hint that there'd been a history of family violence in his background."

I thought for a moment before I spoke. "It's none of my business, but is
Tink
seeing anyone?"

"You mean a psychiatrist?"

I nodded.

Juliet shook her head in disgust. "We've been to so many doctors—psychiatrists, psychologists." Her hands clenched the arms of the chair. "And they all had a different diagnosis. Right now, in order to control her, we have her on so much medication, she's a zombie."

Her frustration was so strong, I could feel it. At a loss for words, I plucked at my skirt and tried to think of something encouraging
to say
to her.

Juliet, fidgeting with her hands, didn't notice my discomfort, and continued. "But someday we won't have to rely on the doctors or the medication." She gripped her chair tighter. "Our research into the mind is going to help
Tink
and others like her. I know it will."

Impressed by her passion, I laid a comforting hand on her knee. "I'm so sorry, Juliet."

She relaxed her hands and gave me a small smile. "Thank you. I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have dumped all of this on you. You barely know me."

"Don't worry about it," I said, sitting back. "Everyone needs to vent once in a while."

"If you only knew," she said, staring down at her lap. A tear slipped from the corner of her eye and slid down her face. "
Tink
has no memory of the day her mother died, and I hope she never does."

"Wouldn't it be better for her to remember?" I asked gently. "Then she could deal with it."

Juliet wiped the tear away and sniffed. "No, no. You see, I was the one who found Miranda." She hesitated. "And
Tink
, huddled at the top of the stairs where her mother had fallen. She was in shock and she didn't speak for two weeks. And when she did, that day was blanked from her mind."

"She
saw
her mother fall?"

But Juliet was lost in the past and didn't hear my question.

The words tumbled out of her mouth in a rush. "She didn't mean to. I know she didn't. She was angry, upset. She was a child," Juliet said, her voice pleading. "She didn't understand the consequences of her actions. She did what she always did when she was angry—she pushed at her mother." She lifted her face and looked at me. "Only this time it happened at the top of the stairs."

I closed my eyes at the pain I saw written on her face.

Juliet believed that
Tink
had caused her mother's death.

 

Chapter Nineteen

 

Too much information.
Too much information.

My hand gripped the steering wheel so tightly, my knuckles turned white. I longed for the good old days. When I'd had the nice, strong wall built around my emotional life.
When all I had to worry about was Abby, Lady, and
Queenie
.
I hadn't even had to worry about my parents. Margaret Mary and Will were safely tucked away in
Florida
—happily retired.

But now?
I'm skulking around, trying to find a missing girl and hearing
heartwrenching
stories about children who accidentally kill their parents. It sucked.

It also sucked being shut up in my vehicle with the flighty Winnie while I drove down the lane to the compound gate. Seems one of Winnie's many jobs was to shut and lock the gate every night. So here I was, after Juliet's tearful good-byes and apologies for letting her emotions get the best of her, listening with one ear as Winnie prattled on about nothing in particular.

"Jason's a magician?" I broke in on whatever it was Winnie was talking about.

"
Was
a magician—he isn't
now.
Oh, he still does parlor tricks to amuse
Tink
and the rest of the group. But they're only for fun," Winnie said, squirming around in her seat. "He sure reads about magic and magicians, though."

"Really?"
I stole a glance at Winnie.
"Who?"

"Houdini, Blackstone, some guy named Von Schuler," she replied, tapping her hand on the door panel.

"Von Schuler? I've never heard of him."

"Me, either," she said, and giggled. "I think Jason really likes him. He has a lot of things about him lying around in his office.
Even a big framed poster of Von Schuler on the wall."
She shivered slightly. "I don't like the poster. Whenever I'm cleaning Jason's office, the eyes seem to follow you around the room. It's spooky."

Dang, there was that word again.

Winnie grabbed the dashboard. "Oh, here's the gate. You can let me out here," she said.

When the SUV rolled to a stop, Winnie hopped out, gave a quick wave, and hurried over to the gate. I drove through and proceeded on my way back to the cabin.

Once inside, Lady greeted me at the door, prancing. I checked the clock on the kitchen wall: 11:00 P.M. Snapping Lady's leash on her collar, I let her rush through the door with me following. Maybe a quick run around the yard would help us both sleep.

Lady did her thing, and then set about sniffing around the yard, her leash stretched out to its full length.

I stood and watched her while I thought about my evening. Jason and Juliet Finch seemed to be caring parents to a troubled girl. At least now I knew why the kid walked around in a daze. She was zoned out on drugs ninety percent of the time. But what I knew about
Tink
did nothing to explain Brandi's connection to the group. The Finches' activities seemed pretty harmless to me, and after spending time with them, they didn't strike me as kidnappers.

So where was Brandi? And what had happened to her? Were we wasting time looking for her here at the lake?

Lost in my thoughts, I didn't notice that Lady had stopped her patrol around the yard until I heard the deep rumble coming from her throat. Tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention, and it felt like eyes were staring at me from the woods beyond the cabin.

Lady lifted her head and sniffed the air. The rumble turned into a full-fledged growl.

I felt the adrenaline kick in. Fight or flight. I chose flight. "Okay, that's it. We're going inside," I said, and gave her leash a pull.

She looked at me over her shoulder,
then
turned back to watching the woods.

"I mean it." My heart began to thump in my chest, and I gave the leash another tug. "Let's go."

After a short warning bark at whatever she thought lurked behind the trees, Lady ran past me and onto the porch.

Me? I couldn't follow her fast enough. I stumbled up the steps and through the door. With my heart still doing a staccato beat, I dropped the leash and locked the door. Hurrying over to the sliding glass doors in the living room, I checked those, too. All secure.

I breathed a sigh of relief, while my heart slowed to its normal rhythm.

After unhooking Lady's leash, I wandered down the hall to my bedroom. As if she didn't want to let me out of her sight, Lady walked beside me, glued to my leg.

I stopped for a moment and listened at the door of Abby's room. The sound of even breathing was all I heard.

Entering my room, I flicked on the lights and got ready for bed, while Lady curled up over by the windows. But as I took off my skirt, I felt something in the pocket.

Oh yeah, the sachet
Tink
had given me.

Removing the small pouch, I tossed it on the night-stand next to my runes and finished undressing. And while I did, I felt the headache I'd been fighting all day make its presence known again.

I knew I should make the tea Abby had suggested, but aspirin would be easier. My stomach did a slow roll and queasiness burned my throat. Nope, I'd had too many aspirin today—sleep was what I needed. I shut off the light and tumbled into bed.

I had just begun to feel myself glide off into sleep when I heard it.
A faint buzzing coming from somewhere in the room.

I sat up in bed and peered around. Probably a dang bug trapped in either the light shade or between the windows. Plumping my pillow, I lay down and tried to ignore the sound.

But it got louder.

Irritated, I turned the light back on and got out of bed to investigate. I checked the windows, the lamp shade, but couldn't find anything that would make that sound.

BOOK: The Trouble With Witches
9.17Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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