Witch You Were Here Page 14

  The wolf disappears all right. But an instant later, two other wolves take its place. Am I seeing things? I ask myself. I try again. “Eramus Hinc!” The same thing happens again. I look at Joe in puzzlement.

  “Looks like Night Shadow is one step ahead of you.” He shakes his head. “He has to be somewhere watching.”

  “But where?”

  “It’s impossible to tell,” Joe answers. He turns to me. “Know any more spells that might work?”

  I shake my head. For a moment, I’m stumped. Then I think that if Night Shadow is nearby, I have to cast a spell of some sort to distract him. Then I remember the book Red Sumac gave me and what she told me about creating my own spells. Suddenly, a diagram appears in my mind, the runes all arranged. And I know what it’s for. I close my eyes and start to move my hands, duplicating what I see in the diagram.

  I’m standing beside myself—not really—but there’s an image of me; a three-dimensional image. I can make it move just like I move. I make another image, and another, and another, and send them in different direction. That’s when I spy someone up on a hill behind the cage. I can’t tell who it is because he’s too far away, and the person is also wearing a black mask. I create a dozen images and send them toward him. Then I have them jump from one spot to another. Here and there, and here and there. The man on top of the mountain looks from one to the other. I advance toward him, too. I don’t want him to see me just standing there not doing anything. I don’t want him to be able to tell which of us is real.

  “You want my blood, shadow man? Then come and get it!” The images continue to leap from one place to another. So do I.

  Joe sees his chance and takes it. He and the other werewolves rush toward the rock. So does Broom Hilda. The feral wolves, now longer under the control of Night Shadow, start to whine and cry. Quickly, they slip away—one at a time, slinking off into the forest.

  Joe, Broom Hilda, and the werewolf pack push against the rock. Gradually, it starts to move, inch by inch by inch. Suddenly, it starts to roll away. Broom Hilda darts into the cage and Alfie jumps on her, hanging on for dear life. She zooms over to me and Snowball, who leaps onto the brush. I jump on Hilda in front of Alfie.

  “Run, everyone!” I shout to Joe’s clan. They immediately begin to disperse, running as fast as the wind. “Broom Hilda, go!” She takes off so quickly I nearly lose my balance. I glance around to see Snowball’s claws anchored in the brush. Alfie has a look of terror on his face. Down below, I see the werewolves deep in the woods, relieved they’re safe. A loud voice pierces the space around the mountain. “You will regret this, Suzy Maycomber! You surely will.”

  Once away from Werewoods, I breathe a sigh of relief as I tell Broom Hilda she can slow down. The ride back to the library is a pleasant one.

  “Wouldn’t want to go through that again,” I say as I climb off the broom.

  Alfie’s face is white as he staggers to his feet. “Nor would I,” he says.

  Once inside the library, I ask him to tell me what happened.

  He lets himself fall into a chair behind the service desk. For a moment, he simply sits and stares straight ahead. “Okay,” he finally says. “I’ll tell you exactly what happened.”

  “Please,” I answer.

  “I got to the library early and decided to go to the 7-13 for some duck berry juice.”

  “The 7-13. What is that?”

  “A convenience store. Surely you have them on the other side.”

  “Oh, you mean a 7-11.”

  He frowns. “No, a 7-13.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Anyhow, I was just about to enter the store when someone grabbed me from behind.”

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know. He was behind me and suddenly threw a hood over my head and handcuffed me so I couldn’t pull it off. Then he picked me up like a baby.” His face became a storm cloud. “I may be height-challenged but I’m definitely not a baby. It’s demeaning.”

  “Go on, tell me what happened next.”

  “He threw me into the back seat of a car and locked the door. Then we took off. The next thing I know, we’re in Werewoods, where he put me in the cage and used a spell to keep me there.”

  “The rock.”

  “Yes. Then he unfastened the handcuffs and took off the hood. But I still couldn’t tell who it was.”

  “Why not?” I ask. “It seems to me if you saw him…” I let my voice trail off.

  “Well, you’re wrong,” Alfie said, his voice testy. “He was the one who now wore a hood, and diaphanous black robes that concealed his shape.”

  “So you have no idea who it was?”

  “Night Shadow, obviously. But who that is, I don’t know. I haven’t the faintest idea.”

  By now the color had returned to Alfie’s face. I look at him more closely. “What’s that on your chin?”

  “My chin?”

  I reach forward and touch the spot on his face. My hand comes away with a little white powder. Yet again, Night Shadow has left his mark.

  16

  The next day, when I land Broom Hilda in front of the library, I see Sheriff Dudley waiting on the steps.

  “You’re just the one I want to see, Sheriff,” I say, trying to dismiss his cartoon character appearance.

  He looks past me. “How are you, Alford?”

  “Better now that I’m home. I hope I never, never have to go to Werewoods again, Sheriff,” Alfie says, shaking his head. “Trolls, nasty poison fungi, the list goes on.”

  “Where is Sprout?” I ask, glancing around.

  Sheriff Dudley shrugs. “Haven’t seen him, and I’ve been here over an hour waiting for someone to come and tell me what’s going on. I heard Joe had called his wolf pack together. One of the wives told me about Alford being kidnapped.” He pauses as though thinking. “Why do you want to see Sprout?”

  “Just checking on him since he’s on my list of suspects. For being Night Shadow,” I say, thinking out loud.

  “Him? He’s ugly as a toad but harmless.” Sheriff Dudley shakes his head.

  “Suzy! Are you all right?”

  I glance around and find the elf doctor running up the steps.

  “Doc, slow down,” Dudley says. “If you keep running around like that, you’re going to be the one in the sick bed.”

  “I just wanted to see if Suzy is all right. I heard that Night Shadow had kidnapped Alford.”

  I smile. God, he is handsome in a pale, silvery way. “I’m fine, Doc. Still a little shaken up from our confrontation with Night Shadow. But fine. Seems like I just can’t shake him. He’s everywhere but nowhere.” I take a deep breath. “I was just asking the sheriff where Sprout is since he’s on my list of suspects.”

  “God, I hope I’m not on your list!” the doctor says, looking appalled at the idea.

  “No, but at this point, I don’t rule anyone out—not even Sheriff Dudley.” I say boldly.

  “My wife would skin me alive if I were running around at night,” he says and laughs.

  “Why do you suspect Sprout?” Doc asks.

  “Because of the withering curse that Granny Maycomber put on Night Shadow. Any other body he takes over will start to fester. And Sprout is the only person that I know who is covered with sores.”

  The doctor looks thoughtful for a moment. “Sheriff, you remember the day the bookshelves fell on Suzy?”

  “Of course. Nothing wrong with my memory. Well, at least I don’t think there is. My wife hasn’t said anything about it. At least I can’t remember if she said anything.”

  “I was passing the library on my way from Widow Murphy’s; she has chronic arthritis and need injections for pain daily. . .” the doctor said.

  “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about Widow Murphy,” the sheriff said. “I passed by her house today and there was a horrible stench coming from inside.”

  “Rats, I keep forgetting to bury her dog. He was very old and passed away a couple of days ago. But I’ve been s
o busy that I... well... I haven’t had time.”

  “Don’t worry. I can have someone from animal control come out and bury him,” Sheriff Dudley says.

  “No, no, that’s not necessary, Sheriff. I’ll do it. I’ve got time today. Anyway, to get back to Sprout. On my way past the back of the library the day the books fell on Suzy, I saw Sprout entering through the basement door.”

  “Yes, that puts him in the library,” Sheriff Dudley said, suddenly animated. “Let me sniff him out and take him down to the station for a long talk. I’ll soon know if he’s Night Shadow or not.”

  “Thanks, Doc,” I say. “But why didn’t you mention seeing him entering the library before now?”

  “I’ve had such a heavy patient load lately. I don’t know if I’m coming or going. Sorry, Suzy, it just slipped my mind. If I had spoken up sooner...”

  “No, no, better late than never,” I say.

  “Thanks.”

  “And, Doc, I’ve been meaning to ask you before this but just never got around to doing it,” I pause.

  “Ask me what?”

  “Would you come to the cottage for dinner? I’ll cook a roast or something,” I say.

  Snowball hisses. I’m sure she’s remembering the last time I tried cooking a roast on the other side and smoked up the kitchen.

  “I would love to. Actually, I’ve been wanting to get to know you better, but thought you might think me too forward if I asked you out.” He smiles so warmly it makes me tingle. “When?”

  “Is tonight too soon?”

  “Lovely. I have no appointments after six. How does eight sound? I’ll have to drive. All of us don’t have broomsticks to zip around on.”

  “Just be glad we aren’t in Hemlock or you’d have to drive out in a buggy!”

  “Yes, they keep to the old ways,” he says, suddenly getting a faraway look in his eyes.

  “Then it’s settled!” I say. “Now I have to get in the library and make sure Alfie is over the shakes. This kidnapping really rattled him.”

  “Go down to Bo’s and get him some duck berry juice. That’ll calm him down. He does love his duck berry juice, especially in the mornings.”

  Duck berry juice? I think as though it should have some meaning beside the duck berry pie we ate in Hemlock, but whatever thought it triggered dies a premature death before it reaches me. “Yeah, if he isn’t his old self I might have to do that,” I say as I turn to walk into the library.

  “See you at eight, Suzy,” Doc calls out cheerfully.

  He is so nice and smooth. I bet he has a very good bedside manner, I find myself thinking. I suddenly think about Val. Yes, he’s even more handsome but the thing is, I know he wants to suck my blood even if he isn’t Night Shadow. And I’m not one hundred percent sure he isn’t.

  First thing I do when I get home…no, the second thing—the roast is first—is to try to connect all the dots. I just have to figure out who Night Shadow is before he kills me or any of my friends.

  I find Alfie sitting behind the receptionist desk, holding Snowball and stroking her. She’s purring but stops the moment she sees me. Alfie pushes her out of his lap.

  “You must be feeling better,” I say, not mentioning what I just saw.

  “Yeah, nothing bothers me,” Alfie says, getting out of the chair. “If I had my ax, I would have chopped Night Shadow in half. It was his lucky day.”

  “Yes, it sure was,” I agree. “Uh, Sheriff Dudley is going to call Sprout in for questions about the day the books fell on me.”

  “He might not be Night Shadow but I’m almost positive he’s the one sending you the poisonous plants,” Alfie says.

  I glance at Snowball. “We should be going to the cottage. You know how long it takes to cook a roast?”

  “Until it starts smoking?” Snowball asks.

  “Maybe you would like to spend the night in the library with Alfie.”

  “Charred roast is my favorite dish,” Snowball says in a purring tone.

  “Let’s go before I change my mind and make you spend the night with Alfie.”

  “Hey, I’m not afraid to be by myself,” Alfie says as he walks over to the storage room and comes out carrying his big, double-bladed ax. “Just let him show his ugly face around here tonight. I’m ready for him.”

  “Alfie, be careful and don’t drop your ax and chop off your toes,” I say as I head for the door.

  “Yeah, Alfie, they are short enough already,” Snowball calls out just as we step through the door.

  I hear Alfie’s agitated voice but can’t understand his response. I don’t want to, either.

  Then Snowball and I jump on Broom Hilda and zip through the air over Nightshade.

  As soon as we’re at the cottage, I hurriedly put the roast in a Dutch oven with carrots and potatoes. Now if I just don’t burn it, I think as I sit down on the sofa with a cup of Earl Grey. As I sip on my tea, I go over the facts I know about Night Shadow.

  One, he’s a warlock. That means he knows a lot of magic spells—not just one or two word spells like me. In a confrontation with him, I’m certainly going to be an underdog. But hopefully, whenever it comes time to face him, I’ll have help. Yeah, like who? I remind myself that almost all the men I know are suspects.

  Two, because of the withering curse, he’ll have sores. That fact points to Sprout. But as I think about it, I’m not convinced. From what Red Sumac told me, Night Shadow is very narcissistic. And if that’s true, he wouldn’t want anyone to see his sores. Sprout seems to be wearing them like a badge of honor or something.

  Werewolves! Their fur would hide the sores but not when they’re in their human from. Yet the vet and Joe both wear long sleeve shirts, as well as long pants that would hide any sores. Hmm, so I can’t rule werewolves out.

  Val nearly always wears heavy makeup to protect himself from the sun so he could be hiding sores too. Rats, can’t rule him out, either. Who can I rule out? Alfie’s too short, Sheriff Dudley’s too dumb. And I think I’d have noticed hooves and a goat’s tail so Bo’s out.

  I shake my head. Jessica on Murder She Wrote would be very disappointed in me. By now, she would have already solved the murder mystery and would be having a cup of tea with the sheriff.

  I lean back to go over the facts of the murder of Rachel. I must have doze off because suddenly I hear Snowball say, “Don’t burn the roast!”

  I dash for the oven and breathe a sigh of relief. The chicken is perfectly cooked. Maybe that’s a good sign that it’s going to be a great evening after all.

  That thought is barely out of my mind when I hear the doorbell ding.

  “Ding dong, ding dong, the witch is...” Snowball starts singing.

  “Don’t you dare say it!” I tell her as I hurry to the door.

  “I’m early,” Doc says. “I guess it’s the full moon. It’s got me restless.”

  “It doesn’t matter if you are a little early. We can have a glass of duck berry wine. I just hope it doesn’t quack when it bubbles,” I add, remembering eating the duck berry pie in Hemlock.

  “That’s my favorite wine. I used to drink it when…” Doc stops and shakes his head. “That’s old dishwater. I would love a glass.”

  As he steps by me, I get a whiff of his cologne. It’s sweet, but I detect an underlying scent that I should know but can’t place. I follow him in and guide him to the sofa. As I head to the kitchen, I keep telling myself that I’m looking forward to talking to the good doctor. I especially like his slightly pointed ears and silver hair.

  “So, are you relieved that Sprout turned out to be the Night Shadow? Now you can relax.”

  I wrinkle my face. “No, I don’t think he’s Night Shadow,” I say.

  “Don’t worry your pretty little head. I’m sure Sheriff Dudley will get a confession out of Sprout. He had all the opportunity to kill Rachel as he was always nearby.” Doc takes a sip of his wine.

  “Goodness, I miss the taste of duck berry wine. You brought the bottle from Hemlock, righ
t?”

  “Alfie insisted,” I mumble as the words duck berry juice are bouncing around in my head. “That’s it!” I exclaim. “The killer must have come in while Alfie was at Bo’s getting his morning fix of duck berry juice.”

  I don’t recognize the expression I see on Doc’s face. Surprise maybe.

  “Doc, that means anyone had the opportunity to enter the library and kill Rachel. Not just Sprout. Now I’m almost positive it’s not him.”

  Suddenly another thought enters my mind. I’ve never heard a dog bark at Widow Murphy’s house. And it is directly behind the library!

  “What appears good in Nightshade is often bad and what appears bad is often good.” I say aloud without thinking.

  “That’s silly. Who told you that?” Doc says, taking another sip of wine.

  “I don’t recall. I’m not quite sure. I just remember it sounded like nonsense at the time and that it came out of nowhere.”

  “Well, it is nonsense!”

  A strange sensation comes over me. Almost like I pictured the runes rearranging themselves, I see the clues floating around in my head, and all the pieces fall into place.

  No. It can’t be.

  Doc’s hand is resting on the coffee table. I reach out and squeeze his wrist. “I don’t think I have told you how handsome I think you are,” I say sweetly as I release his wrist and let my hand slide up his arm a little before pulling it back.

  “Thanks. It’s nice to hear. I do try to keep in shape,” Doc says, pleased with my comment.

  As I reach for my glass of wine, I turn the palm of my hand up slightly. And just like I knew I would, I see the white powder. It takes all my willpower to keep from grabbing Broom Hilda and dashing for the door.

  As Doc lifts his hand, I notice the sore where I rubbed off the makeup on his wrist. I glance away immediately.

  It’s him!

  Doc clears his throat. I glance at him. He’s looking at his wrist where I rubbed the white makeup off.

  “You are smarter than you look, Suzy.”