Waking the Witch

thirty

Jesse was on his way back to the motel when I called to tell him about Tiffany. He grabbed takeout from the diner and as we ate, we talked about Tiffany. As with Michael’s death, he wasn’t convinced it was murder. If Tiffany found out her husband was the killer, it made sense to him that she’d end her own life rather than face the consequences.

“Look at her,” he said. “Typical middle-class housewife. Appearances are everything. She couldn’t handle it.”

I disagreed, but didn’t say so. After arguing that Michael had been murdered, I hated to sound paranoid.

Jesse’s druid friend had gotten back to him. He was sure the ritual wasn’t druidic. So no movement on that front. What he did have was a lead on Cody’s illegal activities, but he wasn’t ready to share.

“If I’m right, it’s the same one Detective Kennedy was following,” he said. “Which means I want to tread carefully. I’m pretty sure there’s a supernatural link, even if Cody isn’t it. I bet that’s what his wife was talking about—she was using her powers to protect or promote the business. Anyway, it’s pretty vague and you guys have enough to work on, right?”

“Right.”

“Then I’ll take this, and when I have something, I’ll let you know.”

I WALKED JESSE back to his room and we chatted a bit. When I returned, Adam was stretched out on my bed, working on his laptop. He had a box of cookies beside him. Paige’s cookies and the commune ones. Paige’s were gone. I snatched up the others before he finished those, too.

“You got your own box,” I said.

“Yours was open. And I earned them. I found your druidic ritual.” He turned the laptop toward me.

“Seriously?”

“Yep. There’s a reason Jesse’s friend didn’t recognize it.”

He motioned at the screen, which showed a scanned page from our personal database. I checked it out.

“It’s definitely the same ritual,” I said. “Everything fits, including the sacrifice of a woman between her twentieth and thirtieth year.”

He pointed to the label at the top.

“A hunting ritual?” I said.

“Yep. For boar hunting with spears. You dip the tips into the sacrificial victim’s blood and they’ll strike the boar in the heart. Not a lot of call for that these days.”

“So it’s fake,” I said.

“It looks real enough ...”

“No, I mean it’s a red herring. Whoever killed those women wanted it to look like a real supernatural ritual. They dug up something so old that any supernatural investigating would know it was real, but would probably never ID it.”

“Or a human could have dug it up from an old book and decided it’d be away to throw investigators off the trail.”

“Sure, but my explanation is way more interesting. And speaking of interesting, I’ve been thinking about what Ginny Thompson was doing up at the cookie cult ...”

MY THEORY? BLACKMAIL. Someone might have commented on a resemblance between her and Alastair Koppel. She’d found out when he’d left town and put two and two together.

Then she looked at that big farm on the hill and to her, it would seem palatial. Her daddy, who’d never paid a dime in child support, now living the high life with a harem of young women. He owed her, and she was going to collect, and if he didn’t like that, she’d tell his secret to the world.

Or Brandi had pushed her into it. From what I heard of their relationship, that seemed more likely. It was Brandi’s idea, so she’d gone with Ginny to make sure she carried through.

Blackmail was a good motive for Alastair not to call the cops. And a good motive for Alastair—or Megan—to kill the blackmailers.

Adam had come to the same conclusion about why the young women went there. He wasn’t as convinced that it led to Ginny and Brandi’s deaths, but agreed there was enough of a possibility that we should get off our asses and head back up to that house for a chat with Megan.

WE STOPPED AT the police station first. Adam went in alone to properly introduce himself to Bruyn, chat him up, put him at ease ... Somehow he thought he could do that last part better without me. Go figure.

When he came out, he said, “Tiffany was injected in the left arm. And it was the back of her arm, which would be easy for someone else to do, but awkward to do yourself.”

“They think it’s murder then?”

He shook his head. “No, but when I raised the possibility, Bruyn jumped like a starving mutt at a hot dog. He smells Cody all over this ” one.

“Good. That’ll keep Cody busy while Jesse investigates his angle.”

I WAS PERFECTLY willing to throw Adam to the guy-starved girls as a distraction, but he was having none of it. He wanted to snoop around the property on his own, so we switched seats and I dropped him off at the base of the hill.

Once the girls realized I was alone, they were happy to leave me to Megan. And Megan was happy to chat. I think she found me interesting—more of a distraction to her than a cute guy.

And I think the words Ginny Thompson’s late-night visit helped her decide she’d better talk to me.

“We have an informant, I take it,” she said as we sat at the picnic table in the backyard. Her tone was light, amused even. I searched her face for any signs she was covering a sudden panic attack, but she was cool as ice cream. Glass-shard-laced ice cream. Sweet and smooth and deadly.

“Multiple ones,” I said, not wanting Vee to bear the brunt of it. “Seems some of your girls aren’t too comfortable with the lies they’re hearing, like the one where Alastair told me he never met Ginny or Brandi.”

“Yes, they were snooping around the property. Yes, I lied and I’m sure Alastair did, too. We caught them ransacking our outbuildings, looking for our secret drug stash. A few weeks later, they turn up dead. Do you really think we were going to share that information?”

“So why not call the cops when you actually caught them?”

“We didn’t need that kind of attention.”

“From what I heard, it was Alastair who said no cops.”

She paused, then said, “Do you know where I grew up, Ms. Levine?”

“No idea.”

She smiled. “Liar. I’m sure you did your research. What it didn’t tell you, though, is the kind of neighborhood I grew up in. I saw a lot of Ginnys and Brandis there. I had some for friends. And one thing they all had in common? No one would ever call the cops on them. People told themselves they were doing those girls a favor, giving them a second chance. They weren’t. They were just teaching them what they could get away with. So, yes, I wanted to call the police. Alastair persuaded me not to.”

“Because it would call undue attention to the group.”

“Particularly so considering what they were looking for. People expect to find two things at a place like this: sex and drugs. But the locals have met the girls and they know we aren’t keeping sex slaves. So Ginny and Brandi figured we must have drugs. If those suspicions got out, it would plant a new seed in the townspeople’s minds—one that’ll worry them more than group sex.”

Her explanation made sense. It didn’t mean it was the truth, of course. Megan wanted to protect her investment here. She knew exactly what to say.

“I know why Alastair didn’t want to call the police,” I said. “He was protecting Ginny.”

“Maybe.” A twist of a smile. “His faith in humanity extends a bit too far sometimes.”

“No, I mean Ginny specifically. I know about their connection.”

“Connection?” Her confusion seemed genuine.

“He used to live in Columbus.”

“I know. That’s why he chose it. He knows the town and they know him—at least the older folks do.” She paused. “Do you mean he knows her family?”

I said yes, that was it, and she said he hadn’t mentioned that to her. I looked hard for some sign of dissembling, but found none. Alastair hadn’t told her Ginny was his daughter.

I saw Adam peeking out from behind the barn, so I said my good-byes, and motioned to Adam that I’d meet him at the bottom of the hill.

I PULLED THE Jeep over to the side of the gravel road. Adam climbed into the passenger seat.

“Find anything?” I asked.

“Nope.” He started doing up his seat belt as I pulled off the shoulder. “Got into the shed with the Santeria stuff, but they’ve taken off the lock and cleared out the back room. Filled it with rakes and—”

The Jeep jumped forward. I slammed against my seat belt. Adam hit the dashboard.

“Shit,” he said. “Can you pop the clutch after I’m belted in?”

“That wasn’t—”

A crunch and another jolt, this one making the Jeep rock. I twisted to look over my shoulder just in time to see the front end of an SUV hit us again, wrenching my neck hard. I caught the grill in the rearview mirror and recognized the emblem.

“Cody Radu,” I said.

“Drive,” Adam said.

“Like hell.”

Cody had pulled back and was idling, waiting. I reached for the door handle. Beside me, Adam cursed as he tried to get his open. The rear impact damaged the frame, making the doors stick. Mine came free first. Cody was driving up alongside the Jeep, moving fast. Making a break for it. An energy bolt in his back tire would stop that.

I started opening the door.

“Savannah!” Adam yelled. “Watch—”

Cody swung the SUV into the side of the Jeep. The door crunched shut, metal squealing as the SUV sheered along it.

“Goddamn it!” I said. “God-fucking-damn it. What the hell is he—?”

“Put it in reverse and go,” Adam said. When I didn’t answer, he grabbed my shoulder. “Go, Savannah, or I’ll yank you over here and do it myself.”

“I’m not running away,” I said as Cody did a three-point turn in front of us.

“I didn’t say that, did I? Drive in there.”

Adam pointed down two ruts that led into a field. “You want to get him? You can’t do it here where anyone can drive by. He’s got a four-by-four. He’ll follow.”

I nodded and turned the ignition key. The Jeep clunked as we started forward, but still ran. I turned onto the makeshift road just as Cody roared up.

I hit the gas. The Jeep flew along the path. Jarred a few of my fillings loose, but I kept my foot down, hitting the ruts and sailing over them like a Jet Ski going against the tide.

When I tried to look in the rearview mirror, Adam said, “Eyes on the road. I’ve got it.”

“Can I get a play-by-play?”

“You’re winning.”

The track crossed a field and continued toward a patch of forest.

“Head in there,” Adam said as if reading my thoughts.

“And Cody?”

“Trying valiantly to keep up, and battering the shit out of his fancy SUV.”

I smiled.

“I don’t think he has the four-wheel drive engaged,” Adam said. “If he even knows how to engage it.”

I floored it when we hit an open patch. We sailed over a streambed and came down with a crunch that made Adam clasp the grab bars.

I eased off the gas as we hit the forest—a spotty stand of trees with another field visible on the far side. Branches scraped the Jeep and Adam winced, but said nothing.

“I’ll cover the damage,” I said. “Even throw in a new top.”

He didn’t smile at that, just kept his gaze on the path behind us. “It’s not the Jeep I’m worried about.”

“You think I should have gone back to town?”

“And let him think he’s spooked you? No. Whatever his problem is, it ends here.” He glanced in the mirror. “And it ends now, apparently. Stop the Jeep. He’s stuck.”

I looked behind me. Cody’s SUV was caught in that streambed we’d shot over.

“I’m guessing you want to take lead on this?” Adam said.

“Please.”

“Just watch out,” he said. “His truck could come free at any second.”

I twisted in my seat and cast my internal fireball, igniting it under the Lexus’s hood. A bang. The tires stopped spinning. Smoke curled from the grill.

Adam chuckled. “Or maybe not.”

I got out. At first, Cody had his head down as he tried to get the engine running again. I was a few feet away when he saw me.

He threw open his door. I slowed, knockback spell at the ready. He slammed the door and I saw that his hands were empty. I relaxed the spell, but stayed on alert.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” he called as he advanced on me.

“Unconscious, thanks to that little stunt of yours.”

Cody peered past me. When he didn’t see Adam, he gave a humor-less smile. “He needs to be a little faster getting his seat belt on.”

“Go to hell. If he’s hurt—”

“Then that’s his own damn fault for having a murdering bitch of a girlfriend. I hope he is hurt.” He advanced on me as I stood my ground. “In fact, I hope he’s dead. That won’t bring Tiffany back, but it’ll make me feel better. So will this.”

He swung so fast I didn’t see it coming until the last second. I tried to twist but his fist connected with my shoulder. I fell back, gasping in shock more than pain. Rage filled me and I lashed out with an energy bolt. As the last words left my mouth, I thought, Oh, shit!

I looked down at my fingertips, expecting to see the bolt flying from them. But they were just outstretched toward Cody, nothing happening. Launching that spell against a human had been reckless—I must have subconsciously sabotaged it.

“You want me to stop?” Cody said, looking at my outstretched fingers.

Adam had slipped through the trees, out of Cody’s sight. Now he rounded the rear of the SUV, his eyes blazing. I waved him back before Cody saw him. Cody swung again. I dodged and lifted my fingers in a knockback, but he charged and kicked my leg out from under me. As I went down, he kneed me in the stomach. Adam rushed forward.

“No,” I said, wheezing and shaking my head.

Adam hesitated. I met his gaze and he pulled back behind the SUV, hovering there, waiting.

“No?” Cody said. “You don’t like—”

Finally I was able to smack him with a knockback. He stumbled against the SUV.

“Getting clumsy?” I said.

He lunged forward. I hit him again, this one hard enough to knock him to the ground.

“I don’t know what you’re on,” I said. “But it’s powerful stuff, Cody. You can barely stand up. Now, what’s this about me being a murdering bitch? You think I killed Tiffany? There’s a commune full of girls who can testify that I was with them when it happened, so don’t—”

“You might not have pushed the plunger,” he said, getting to his feet. “But I know you had something to do with her death. You’ve been following us for days now. Tiffany said it had something to do with that Wiccan shit she used to be into. You stalked her and you harassed her. You lured her into the newspaper building—”

“I lured her? She called me. Check her phone records.”

“She said you threatened her.”

“Yes, I did. I threatened to take action if she didn’t stop harassing me. She—”

“You lying bitch!”

He swung. I wheeled out of the way. But before I could launch a knockback, he slammed his fist into my gut. I fell, gasping and blinking. Adam ran toward us. Cody drew back his foot to kick me in the stomach. I hit him with an internal fireball.

He screamed and doubled over. Adam stopped. As Cody stumbled back, he saw Adam and realized he was trapped between us.

Cody grabbed the SUV door handle. Adam and I both jumped at him, but Cody was faster, swinging in and slapping the lock closed. Adam reached for the back door. Cody hit the button and all his door locks engaged.

Adam jangled the handle on the driver’s side. The metal glowed red hot as he glared at Cody, desperately cranking the engine.

Adam glanced over at me. I was still winded and gasping, pain throbbing through my stomach. The whites of Adam’s eyes suffused with red. He pressed his fingers to the door metal. Tendons in his neck popped as he concentrated.

The door shimmered, heat pouring from it. Then it disintegrated in a shower of ash. The safety-glass window dropped, hit the door frame, and shattered.

Cody sat there, gaping at the hole where his door should have been. He looked down at the pile of ash and glass below.

“That’s what you get for buying foreign,” Adam said. “Barely need to touch it and it falls apart.”

Cody lifted his gaze to Adam’s, slowly, as if just realizing that nothing now stood between them. Adam reached in, grabbed him by the shirt front, and hauled him out. Cody’s arms windmilled, as he tried to grab something and hold on.

“Not going to take a swing at me?” Adam said. “It’s different when it’s a guy your own size, isn’t it?”

He threw Cody to the ground. Cody started scrambling backward. Adam walked over and kicked him in the stomach, so hard even I winced. Cody yowled and curled up, gasping for air.

“Doesn’t tickle, does it?” Adam said. “I’ve heard you can kill someone doing that. Try to run and we’ll test that.”

“What do you want?” Cody wheezed.

“First, leave Savannah alone. She had nothing to do with your wife’s death. She’s here investigating a murder—that’s it. You just happen to be the prime suspect. So that’s the second thing I want you to do. Confess. Probably too much to ask for, though, so we’ll settle for you answering some questions.”

I stepped forward. “Let’s start at the top. What were you and Claire talking about behind the hardware store?”

“Go to hell, bitch,” he sneered.

I lit a fireball in his stomach. Just a little one, but after Adam’s kick, it was enough to set him screaming and writhing.

“He kicked you pretty hard, huh?” I said. “I think you need a doctor. The sooner we can get through this, the sooner you can get to an emergency ward. Now, let’s try that again. What were you and Claire—”

“A girl, okay? She wanted to talk to me about a girl who’d been at the commune.”

“Name?”

“Pammy or Tammy. Something like that.” Tamara—Claire’s friend.

“And what did you have to do with this girl?”

“Nothing. We talked a few times. I bought her some stuff. She paid me back.”

“With sex.”

He glared up at me. “No, with seashells. Yes, with sex.”

“And the stuff you bought was drugs.”

“No, candy—”

I ignited another internal fireball. He screamed. Writhed. Called me a whole lotta names.

“I’m not doing anything,” I said. “Just standing here trying to talk to you. But obviously you’re hurt, so let’s say you cut the bullshit. If you gave her drugs for sex, say that, and this will go a lot faster.”

He confirmed it. Also confirmed that Tamara had been at the commune trying to get clean. Only she’d ended up whoring herself for a fix.

That conversation seemed to be the only connection between Claire and Cody. Still, it didn’t rule out murder. If she’d known he was dealing dope to Tamara, that was a life-ruining kind of accusation. Of course, he wasn’t going to admit that.

I tried to get more from Cody. Even used the persuasion spell. It failed, though, and I fell back on the tried-and-true internal fireball until Adam stepped in, motioning for me to cast a privacy spell so we could talk without Cody hearing.

“That’s enough,” he said. “He’s told you all he’s going to—”

“I can get more.”

“Sure you can. Keep torturing him and, eventually, he’ll admit he killed Ginny, Brandi, Claire, Michael, Tamara, Tiffany, and Jimmy Hoffa. You need more evidence, Savannah, or after a certain point, you can’t trust anything he says.”

He was right. And, to be honest, I was enjoying tormenting Cody just a little too much. So we left it there. And we left him there, on the ground beside his useless SUV.

WE GOT BACK to the motel to find a half-eaten cold pizza in our room, with a note from Jesse. He’d taken off pursuing a lead and left us the pizza. My stomach wasn’t ready for that. I was ready to sit down and let Adam dig in, but he insisted on checking out my injuries and getting them cleaned up, and by the time he finished, I was hungry enough for a couple of slices. We took our time eating it, talking and relaxing, and soon it was ten o’clock. Adam yawned and stretched.

“Bedtime already?” I said. “You really are getting old.”

He pitched a wadded-up napkin at me. “It was a hint for you, the girl who’s been stifling her own yawns for the last hour. A short nap this afternoon doesn’t make up for a missed night of sleep.”

I picked up my laptop. “I just want to check a few—”

He snatched it from me. “That’s my job. You get some rest and I’ll do the research.”

He settled into the armchair and put his feet up on the bed.

“Didn’t you say something about getting a room?” I said.

“It’s late.”

“It’s barely ten, and the place is half empty.”

“I’m good here.” When I started to argue, he said, “I’m pretty sure Cody’s not coming back for revenge tonight, but I’m not counting on it. Besides, someone’s been following you, and it may be the same someone who killed Tiffany Radu.”

“I—”

“You can look after yourself, I know. But someone also might have killed a guy you were working this case with, so something tells me I’m safer here, too.”

“Fine, but you’re not spending the night in a chair. It’s a big bed. Just keep your shorts on and stay on your side this time.”

“Hey, the last time I was the one who ended up with a fat lip, smacked by you flailing around.”

“Um, no. You were flailing. That’s why you got a fat lip.”

“Go to sleep, Savannah.”

I walked to his bag and pulled out a T-shirt, then headed for the bathroom.

“Excuse me?” he said. “That’s my shirt?”

“I don’t own pajamas.”

“At least take the one you singed earlier.”

“It’s ugly, remember? I don’t do ugly.”