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Authors: Shirley Damsgaard

Tags: #Horror & Ghost Stories

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BOOK: The Trouble With Witches
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"Hey, wait a second," I said, bursting in on the conversation. "What do you mean the kid is a psychic?"

"What?"
Darci's
eyes traveled first to me and then to Abby.

I threw myself down on a chair next to
Darci
. "Abby says
Tink
is a psychic."

Darci
leaned forward in interest.
"Really?
I thought you said the kid was just spooky…" Her voice dropped away and she cocked her head and eyed me with speculation. "But I can see where having psychic talent would lead—"

I drew myself up and broke in. "Are you insinuating that I'm spooky?"

Darci
smiled broadly. "Come on, Ophelia, you're not exactly 'normal.' That's why you're so much fun to hang around with. I never know what's going to happen next." She wiggled around on the chaise.
"Besides, normal's boring."

Frowning, I didn't know if I'd been paid a compliment or not. With everything that had happened in such a short space of time, normal didn't sound half bad right now. Boring, maybe, but at least safe.

I turned my attention to Abby. "Okay, so
Tink
is a psychic—"

"A very powerful psychic," Abby said, talking over me. "I can't believe you didn't feel it or see it, Ophelia. All you have to do is look at her. It's right there in her eyes."

"Well, I didn't see it," I said emphatically, "or feel it."

Abby shook her head. "Her talent is
very
uncontrolled. Her energy was all over the place. And as soon as she walked into the room, I felt her trying to read me."

"Wow,"
Darci
said, amazed. "When can I meet her?"

I gave her a quelling look and turned my attention back to Abby. "Do you think the Finches know?"

"They are doing research into psychic phenomena," Abby said, lifting a shoulder, "so one would assume they do."

"You know," I said, snapping my fingers, "Juliet did say they're hoping their research will help
Tink
. But I thought she meant they hope to learn something to help
Tink
control her rages."

Abby gave an unladylike snort.
"Nonsense.
That child doesn't have rages."

"But Juliet said—"

She stopped me with a look. "I don't care what she said. As a small child
Tink
may have had her share of temper tantrums. A lot of children pitch fits—"

"But
Tink
might have pushed her mother down the stairs during one," I blurted out.

"Humph, I don't believe that one either." Abby settled back in her chair and crossed her arms.

I was getting more confused by the minute.

"Then what do you believe?" I asked.

Abby ignored my question. "Tell me more about the necklace."

I groaned. "We're not back on that dumb necklace, are we? I swear you're as obsessed with it as the Finches."

Darci
perked up. "What necklace?"

Great, now
Darci
would make a big deal about
Tink's
amulet, too.

"The kid wears this necklace that looks like a silver spider's web, and it has a red stone in the center. Evidently she's supposed to wear it all the time, because whenever they catch her without it on, Juliet and Jason get all bent out of shape," I said.

Darci
sank back, disappointed. "That's it? I've seen a ton of kids at the library wearing necklaces in the shape of a spider's web."

With a quick nod, I glanced over at Abby. "See? All the kids wear them."

"You said the stone was red," Abby said, ignoring my remark. "Could it be a ruby?"

"I suppose," I mumbled, and gave up trying to get her attention off the necklace.

"I wonder when
Tink
was born?" she said to herself.

"Abby,
what
are you getting at?" My voice was tinged with frustration.

She gave me a stern look. "When we get home, I'm giving you all the family's
journals,
and you're going to read every last one of them."

Now I was more confused than ever.

"What do our family's journals have to do with
Tink's
necklace?"

"The journals contain spells—binding spells—spells that use spiders' webs."

The light clicked on.

"Someone is trying to bind
Tink's
powers using that necklace?"

Satisfied that I finally understood, Abby smiled. "Yes. It's my guess the crystal is
Tink's
birthstone—"

"And the stone fixes the spell specifically on her?" I interrupted.

"Yes. And the spider's web binds whatever the person who cast the spell stated in their intentions."

"In this case,
Tink's
psychic abilities?"

Abby nodded. "I think so."

"The spell must work." I stared off into space, thinking. "Whenever I was around
Tink
, the necklace was somewhere nearby.
Either hanging on a branch or in her pocket.
That's why I never picked up on her talent."

"Maybe.
The necklace would definitely work better if it was worn around her neck, but if she was close enough to it, it would still exert some power over her."

"So someone is dabbling in
magick
?" My eyes drifted back to Abby's face.

"Juliet would be my guess," Abby said.

"But what about Jason?
He was a stage magician at one time."

"Ophelia," she chided, "you know stage magic has nothing to do with real
magick
."

"I know, but what if his interest in fake magic led him to explore real
magick
?" I remembered my conversation with Jason. "He said meeting Juliet opened his eyes to real magic, but I thought he meant it a different way. That she opened his eyes to the potential that lies within…" My voice trailed off while I put two and two together in my mind. "Crap, they're practicing witchcraft, aren't they?"

"Oh
my gosh
! It's not a commune, it's a coven."
Darci's
face glowed. "There's a coven across the lake. How cool is that?"

"Slow down,
Darce
.
We're making a lot of assumptions here." I chewed on my bottom lip, thinking.

I thought about the clearing with the abandoned cabin.

"Abby, do you think Juliet or Jason laid down some kind of protective spell around that cabin?"

"If Juliet and Jason are dabbling," she said, "the spell could be theirs. But the day you found the cabin, I assumed Walks Quietly was responsible."

Oh yeah, I'd forgotten about him.

Abby continued. "I don't know exactly what Walks Quietly is—I don't know very much about Native American beliefs—but he's some kind of medicine man."

I rubbed my forehead with the heels of my hands. I felt my headache coming back.

Abby leaned toward me and touched my arm.
"Headache again?"

"Yeah."
I exhaled slowly.

A look of uncertainty shadowed Abby's face. She pursed her lips before speaking. "There's something else, Ophelia. Earlier I told you something or someone is toying with us, but there is a purpose behind the game, and—"

A voice called out from inside the cabin, "Is anyone here?"

Rick.

"We're on the deck," I called out.

The doors slid open and Rick stepped out. His beard was thicker now, and his self-confident air was gone. He looked tired, worn down.

Abby stood, shaking her head in sympathy.

Rising, I crossed to Rick and took his hands in mine. "Rick, I'm so sorry. Did you call Brandi's parents?"

"No," he said shortly.

"I know calling her parents will be hard, but putting it off won't make it easier," I said gently.

"It's not Brandi," he said in a low voice.

I released his hands and stepped back. "But who—"

"Duane Hobbs," he replied, cutting me off.

"Duane Hobbs drowned?"

Before he could answer, Abby broke in. "Let the man sit down, Ophelia."

Rick shot Abby a grateful look and sat on the nearest chair.

Abby laid a hand on his shoulder. "Do you want something to drink, Rick?"

"That would be great."

Abby went back into the cabin, while I turned to Rick. "What about Duane?"

He held up a hand. "I'll explain when Abby gets back."

I crossed my arms and tapped my foot. My mind was racing. How did Duane Hobbs wind up dead?

"Rick—"

"I don't want to tell the story twice, okay?" he said, his voice weary.

I took pity on him and kept my mouth shut. Crossing over to my chair, I plopped down and waited.

Abby returned a few moments later with a tray holding a pitcher of lemonade and four glasses. She poured one for each of us,
then
sat next to me. After passing a hand over her eyes, she took a tiny sip.

Disturbed, I touched her arm. "Abby?"

She reached over and patted my hand, smiling. "Let's hear what Rick has to say."

Rick drained his glass in one long drink. Setting the empty glass on the deck, he leaned forward. "I was in the boat with the sheriff and the medical examiner when the divers brought the body to the surface. I even helped get it into the boat. It was obvious—he didn't drown." Rick winced. "When they turned him over, we saw a deep gash on the left side of his skull.
Deep enough to kill him.
He also had a piece of cord tied around his foot."

"Oh,
my gosh
,"
Darci
exclaimed. "Someone killed him and dumped him in the lake?"

"Yes."

"What about the cord?" I asked.

"The end was frayed, like the cord had been rubbing against something repeatedly until the friction wore it through and it snapped. They think his foot had been tied to some kind of weight. The sheriff asked the divers to go down and try and recover it."

I studied Rick's face. "Did they find it?"

"I don't know," he said with a slight shrug. "We left and brought the body back to shore, where the medical examiner's van was waiting to take it to the hospital morgue." His mouth twisted in a wry grin. "The sheriff wants the part about the rope kept quiet. He
strongly
suggested that I not mention it in any report I send to the newspaper."

Abby had listened to Rick's story without comment. Finally she spoke. "Rick, I think it would be best if we went back to
Iowa
."

He dropped his head for a moment. Raising it, he met Abby's eyes. "I know. I promised there wouldn't be any danger, and now there's a murder."

Abby shook her head. "No, Rick, it's not the murder. I'm sorry Mr. Hobbs met an unfortunate end, but right now I'm more concerned about protecting my granddaughter."

Me? Why did I need protection?

I stared at her in confusion. "Abby? What are you talking about?"

Abby watched me, her face full of love. "You asked me earlier about what I sensed—"

I broke in. "Yeah, but you said you didn't know."

"I don't know. At least I'm not certain about what I'm picking up, but we've both felt things. I don't know if what we've felt is human in origin or not." Her eyebrows knitted together in a frown. "I'm not sure if what I feel is tied to Brandi's disappearance or Duane Hobbs's murder. But whatever it is, whatever is hiding in the shadows, is waiting. Waiting for an opening to attach itself to someone…"

When she hesitated, my gaze traveled from Abby to Rick to
Darci
. They all had the same worried look on their face.

"And, my dearest granddaughter, that someone is you."

 

Chapter Twenty-four

BOOK: The Trouble With Witches
6.27Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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