Dark Corner

Chapter 26

RIP, Mrs. Lund

Mrs. Twiggs sped along the dirt road, descending Black Mountain. I sat in the passenger seat, my eyes darting back and forth. The trees crackled and closed behind our path, guarding the road to the cabin. I knew all would be safe there tonight. Mrs. Raintree blessed the trees that barred the way to the cabin. She had absorbed the magic left by Agatha Hollows. That magic combined with her bloodline from her Cherokee goddess mother increased her powers tenfold.

We reached the Asheville city morgue where Mrs. Lund was being held pending the autopsy and police investigation. I hoped the autopsy had not been performed yet, because if it had and she was a witch, they would have found that she was a two or three or maybe five-hundred-year-old skeleton.

Mrs. Twiggs politely knocked on the door. A young man wearing earbuds and a county morgue button-down shirt answered. “Yes, ma’am. What can I do for you?” he asked, removing one bud from one ear.

She smiled and blew a little dust from the palm of her hand over him. He returned her smile and let us in. Then he walked back to his office chair, put his legs up on the desk, and picked up a graphic novel. We found our way to the holding room with a wall of cold chambers. Mrs. Twiggs and I gave our respects to the dearly departed who stood around the room. We said a little prayer. “Terra, can’t we help these poor souls?” Mrs. Twiggs asked.

“They don’t know that they’ve passed yet. They’re still attached to their earthly vessel.”

Mrs. Twiggs raised her hands. “Gentle souls release yourselves from this earthly plain. Join your loved ones as I speak your name.” Mrs. Twiggs walked in front of each cold chamber, each one labeled with a name. As she called off each name, they thanked her and disappeared. Finally we came to Mrs. Lund’s chamber.

“Are you ready for this, Mrs. Twiggs?” I asked.

“Yes, Terra dear.” When she pulled the drawer open, it was worse than I thought. There was nothing. The chamber was empty. “Where’s the body, Terra?”

Mrs. Twiggs went up to the security guard. He pulled his earbuds out, his eyes still twinkling from the enchantment. “Dear, you’re missing a body. Mrs. Lund. Contact Detective Willows, and we were never here,” Mrs. Twiggs said.

“You were never here,” he repeated, smiling before reaching for the phone.

Mrs. Twiggs waved her hand over the surveillance monitors, erasing any record of us entering the building or leaving it.