A Witch's Tale (7 page)

“Oh, Mr. Jacobson, that’s wonderful news!
But who paid the bail?”

Realization hit everyone in the room at once.
Shelly let out a whoop of joy before Cassie had even replaced the telephone receiver.
Naomi and Mary Beth embraced each other, tears of happiness streaming down their cheeks.
Edith sat with her head bowed, whispering words of thanks
,
while Shelly rushed across the room to Cassie.

“Someone paid Mother’s bail!” she squealed in delight.
“She should be out of
that horrible place in time for dinner.”

“I’m sorry, I know I should be ecstatic that someone has posted my bail, but I keep getting the feeling that something is very wrong with this whole set-up.”
A wary expression filled Myra’s eyes.

Myra, Cassie and Mac sat together drinking tea in the small side room of Myra’s shop, Nature’s Way.
Advertised as a natural herb store, it was no secret that Myra also kept a stock of more unusual items, items that she and her followers used in their special ceremonies.

One of the biggest customer attractions of the shop was the small room where the three now sat, the room where Myra read Tarot cards.
Now, instead of a spread of Tarot cards, a lovely antique tea service was set upon the table.
The aromatic scent of one of Myra’s specially blended herb teas drifted on the slow moving air currents, helping to soothe jangled nerves.

Mac sat back in his chair, absent-mindedly stirring his tea.
After taking one sip, he decided he would rather stir it all night than actually ingest the stuff.

Thou
gh his slumped posture and half-
closed eyes gave him a look of total indifference, nothing could be further from the truth.
His mind had not been so alive in months, no years.
He saw everything and questioned everything he saw.
In fact, he had so many questions battling each other in his
brain,
it was nearly all he could do to maintain his insolently lazy facade.
But he managed.
It was his persona, and one that had served him well over the years.
He studied Myra
without allowing a shadow of his thoughts to reach his face.
The more he watched her, the more fascinated he became.
She was something else, all right.
But a murderer?
Possibly, but somehow he doubted it.

Still dressed in the clothes she had been wearing when she had been arrested two days before, any other woman would have looked a mess.
Not so Myra Adams.
On her, the rumpled cream colored slacks and matching sweater looked
fabulous.
Mac doubted that the woman could put on anything that would detract from her dark beauty.

Her looks and obvious charm explained a lot to him, the first being Alan
Boatright’s
eagerness to believe in her innocence.
Mac had sensed that Alan had more than a reporter’s interest in the woman, now he could see why.

“It was the worst experience of my life,” Myra said in a shaky voice.
“The only thing that made it bearable
was knowing
that the rest of the coven had been spared.
I never thought I would be grate
ful for a case of the stomach flu, but if Mary Beth hadn’t gotten sick the night Mr. Elkins was murdered, forcing us to cancel the ceremony, you would all have been facing that judge with me today.”

Cassie rose from her chair, crouched down beside her mother and wrapped her arms around her, resting her head on Myra’s shoulder.
“If only you had come with me and Shelly to work at the shop after we canceled the ceremony
,
you wouldn’t be going through this either.
It’s not fair that
,
out of all of us, you were the only one who didn’t have someone to swear that you couldn’t have been at the meadow that night.”

“Now, what have I always told you about dwelling on ‘if
onlys
’?
We’ll deal with this, baby.
And I want you to stop tearing yourself up over it, okay?”

“But I feel so responsible, Mom.
I should have done something, but I didn’t know what.”

“Sweetheart,
it wasn’t your fault.
What could you have done?
What could any of you have done?
It was something I had to deal with in my own way.
Thank all that’s good in the universe that it’s over.”

Myra’s words, meant to comfort her daughter, deepened the frown on Mac’s brow.
Could these women be naive enough to believe that the ugliness was over?
The woman was out on bail, for G
od’s sake.
Didn’t she realize she still had to stand trial?

But then Myra’s eyes met his and the message he read in them told him that
,
yes, she was fully aware of the problems that lay ahead, but for these few moments she chose to pretend they no longer existed.
Right now all she wanted to do was to comfort her daughter.

Pulling away from her mother’s embrace, Cassie turned to Mac, looking at him with eyes that threatened to melt the stone hard core of his cynicism.
Hope glimmered in their
depths, a hope so intense he felt a stab of guilt at the thought that he might be forced to deny it.

“I know what you’re thinking, Mac, and you’re wrong.
They wouldn’t have let her out if they believed she did that horrible thing.
How could they have?”
She continued on before Mac could explain why the system allowed suspected criminals out of jail on bail before their trials.
“And why would someone have put up that much money if they didn’t believe she was innocent?
A million dollars!
Whoever has that much money must have a whole lot of influence to go with it, don’t you think?
Somewhere out there we have an ally and I’m going to use every o
u
nce of energy I posses
s
to influence that person to come forward and convince the judge of what he must believe himself.”

Cassie’s mention of the mysterious donor set Mac’s thoughts on another track.
A myriad of questions raced through his mind, each one vying for attention.
Why would anyone have done such a thing?
Who had that kind of money?
Why remain anonymous?
Was it someone who truly believed Myra innocent, or maybe he had some special feelings for the woman.
Perhaps that was it.
Being in Myra’s
company for mere moments was enough for Mac to sense her unusual magnetism.

Or could it be that Myra’s mysterious benefactor was someone who enjoyed stirring up the pot, so to speak?
Could he have arranged her release simply so that he could sit back and watch the commotion it would cause?

One thing was certai
n: n
o
body in a town the size of Port
Bellmont
had that much money without having acquired a great deal of power to go with it.
He’d
used his influence to gain her release.
How was he likely to use it next?

Cassie looked up at Mac, a tremulous smile on her lips.
“Everything’s going to be all right now, isn’t it
,
Mac?”
Her eyes begged him to reassure her.

Common sense told him to be straight with her, to remind her that the worst was most likely yet
to come, but he couldn’t do it, n
ot yet.
Why destroy her chance at a good night’s sleep with his doomsday predictions?

He remained silent.
No glib lies came quickly to mind. Rats!
Just when he could use a good lie, the devious side of his brain let him down.

Cassie’s hand shook as she set her tea cup in its saucer.
Why wouldn’t he answer her?
Was he hiding something from
her?
She glanced at her mother, and
returned her gaze to Mac.
He could see the fear rising in her eyes.

“It will be okay now, won’t it, Mac?
Don’t you think the ju
dge would have refused bail al
together if they really had a case against Mom?”

“The one lesson I’ve learned over the years, Cassie, is to never try to read a judge’s mind.
But then, I’ve never had the option, have I?
I don’t have the ‘gift’ like you,” he said, hoping to lighten the mood a little.
“Why don’t you give it a try?
Or Myra, maybe you should deal yourself a future with your Tarot cards.”

Myra gave him a look that said,
I know you mean well, but you don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.
“I don’t think that would be such a good idea, at least not at the moment.”

“It wouldn’t work,
not for either of us,” Cassie tried to explain.
Although he had made the suggestion in jest, Cassie had taken it quite seriously.
“We both need to be able to reach into our inner peace to be able to tap into the truths of life.
Too many disturbing things have been happening for us to reach that core of peace.”

“Actually, neither one of us have ever been inclined to look into our own futures,” Myra interrupted.
“I’m not sure it’s even possible.
But whatever the case, I think I’d rather not look too closely.
I may not like what I see.”

Myra’s words made a lot of sense to Mac.
If it were possible, it would be one thing to look into someone else’s life and quite another to look into your own.
If you actually believed you had the ability to see the future, would you dare look into your own life?
Mightn’t the reality of what you saw be too terrifying to face?

This was getting to be way too metaphysical for his cynical mind.
Besides, it was getting late.
They had all had enough excitement for one day.
It was time he got a little distance between himself and these women.

“Can I walk you two ladies home?” he asked as he stood to leave.
“Although you may usually feel safe on these streets at night, I wouldn’t advise
your
going out alone right now.”

Myra rose and took both of his hands in hers.
“I live upstairs, so I won’t
be needing
a body guard, but thank you anyway.
Thank you for the advice and for so much else.
Cassie told me what you two have worked out, about your
exclusive story of what we really are, not what people assume we are.
I feel safe in your hands, Mac.”

Could anyone feel more like a snake?
He doubted it.
But then
,
why should he?
He had every intention of telling the truth.
He hadn’t lied to Cassie about that.
He just hadn’t bothered to mention which publication his story would appear in.

“Although Mom doesn’t need anyone to walk her home, I would very much appreciate your company.
I’ve never worried about walking home from here at night before, but, under the circumstances
...”
S
he folded her napkin neatly and
stood to leave.
Mac reached for her sweater and held it out for her to slip her arms through the sleeves.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay here with you tonight, Mom?” Cassie asked, a slight frown creasing her brow.

“Absolutely.
If you stayed, we’d end up talking all night, and what I need more than talking is a hot bath and a good night’s sleep in my own bed.
No, you go on home.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.
Stop by the shop for some coffee when you get up tomorrow, okay?”
Cassie leaned over and kissed her mother, turning away before Myra was able to see the tears that misted her eyes.

It wasn’t all that late, only a little after ten, but the town was as quiet as a tomb as Mac and Cassie left Myra’s home. The sound of their shoes on the sidewalk echoed eerily, bouncing back at them from the fog that was just now creeping in from the ocean.

He looked up into the dark sky above.
Stars and a sliver of a new moon glimmered back at him.
He wondered how long before the fog would obscure the lovely night sky and was glad they had left when they had.

Since Cassie had opted for walking earlier in the evening, Mac had left his beat-up old station wagon at the motel.
Now that he thought about it, he had hardly stepped into his car since coming to Port
Bellmont
.
The town was so small it was usually easier to walk to his destination than to try to find a parking spot when he got there.