Looking for Mr. Good Witch (6 page)

“But what if Mom is right?” Dorothy added. “If he were anyone else, you'd help him.”

Elsie giggled. “Sounds like a road trip.”

Teach me what I need to know,

Show me truth and light.

I fear no evil—no remorse.

Gird me for the fight.

Dorothy was excited by the idea of finally meeting the Bone Man. That was only because she'd never met him. I felt sure she'd be as frightened of him as the rest of us once she laid eyes on him.

“I'll just wait at the house tomorrow until you girls come back.” Olivia went out the door with Dorothy, who was carrying her staff. “I've spent all the time I want out there. Just be careful. We know the Bone Man can be tricky. Don't let him take your amulet with some kind of shady deal, Molly.”

“I'm not entirely convinced this is the right thing to do.” I locked the shop door behind us, and we headed to our cars. “How would we approach him? The only reason witches visit him is to trade for knowledge or items we need for spells.”

“Why can't we just say we're checking on him because you had visions of him?” Dorothy unlocked her brown Beetle.

“I can't imagine saying that to him.” Elsie shrugged as
she got into my car. “But Molly was pretty good with him last time—except for letting him have Olivia.”

“Don't remind me,” Olivia called out. “Dorothy, make sure you leave my staff at home when you go.”

Elsie laughed. “I thought you had a good time with him, Olivia.”

“I dated a weredragon once too,” Olivia said. “We don't want to go into all my mistakes.”

“I'm sure we'll think of something,” Dorothy decided cheerfully. “Should I bring my magic stone?”

“Not unless you want him to trick you out of it,” Olivia replied. “I don't know, girls. Maybe Dorothy is too green to go out to Oak Island.”

“I think she'll be fine,” Elsie said. “She's bound to go out there with us sometime. It might as well be tomorrow.”

I sighed as I got behind the wheel. Elsie and Dorothy seemed very sure it was the right thing to do. Olivia did too—she just didn't want to be part of it.

As we drove back to Elsie's house, I prepared her for the fact that I might decide not to go to the island tomorrow. “There's so much to do. I don't know if there's time for the ferry trip and to get ready for the full moon celebration. Maybe we should wait a few days.”

“Not afraid, are you, Molly?” Elsie asked.

“Yes. All of us are—except for Dorothy, who doesn't know any better. I don't know what kind of magic the Bone Man has, but I know he's a lot more powerful than the three of us. The only times we've gone out there, we were desperate. I don't feel desperate enough to allow my fear to overwhelm my common sense.”

“I don't like him either, but he has helped us many times. Remember that one time we were trying to help that poor Selkie who'd lost her skin? He was the only one with a workable solution.”

“Solution? You mean the time we all had the fillings in our teeth removed so we could give them to him,” I reminded her.

“Oh, yes.” She frowned. “I'd forgotten about that part. But we did help the Selkie. Is she still around Wilmington?”

“I see her almost every day down by the docks with her easel and paints.” I pulled in front of Elsie's house. “That was different, don't you think? We were trying to help someone who couldn't help herself.”

Elsie stared at me with emerald green eyes. “We don't know we aren't trying to help someone this time, do we?”

“You mean the Bone Man?” I shook my head. “It's hard for me to believe he needs our help. Maybe that's uncharitable, but usually association with him comes at a price.”

“Well, give me a call in the morning if you change your mind.” She smiled. “I'll change it back for you with a major guilt trip from all the stories I can remember of the times he helped us. Good night, Molly.”

I watched her walk slowly into her house before I drove away.

Joe was home when I got there. I wished I could explain to him about the Bone Man. I felt sure he'd agree with me about not going to the island. It would've been nice to have someone in my corner.

But the only way we could discuss witchcraft was inside an enchanted bubble to protect us from the prying eyes and ears of the council. The enchantment didn't last long. Certainly not enough time to explain my fears and trepidation about seeing the Bone Man again.

I walked in the door to the smell of Joe's peppers and onions sizzling on the stove. He'd also made veggies with meatballs and marinara to go on hoagie rolls.

“Hi, Molly.” He grinned as he stirred the peppers and onions in the skillet so they wouldn't burn.

“I didn't expect you to be home, since you're working on a homicide.” I put my bag on a chair. Isabelle came up and nudged me with her head, reminding me how much she disliked
the smell of peppers and onions. She wanted her food so she could take a nice long nap while we ate.

“The task force is still trying to decide if the young man who died in Southport is part of the homicides we're tracking.”

“What did he die from?”

“That's unclear. Some people think it was a drug overdose. There are no wounds on the body. Suzanne and I can't do anything until we get all the information. I thought you and I could have dinner together before this whole thing becomes a rock rolling downhill.”

I wanted to talk to him as much as he could about the case before we had to discuss its portents of witchcraft in the bubble. I was never quiet sure how long I could hold on to that magic. The amulet had increased my abilities, but I still felt uncertain. When you try something enough times and it doesn't work, it makes you feel insecure.

Joe told me what he could about the possible serial killer. “It's been the same story since Savannah. The numbers change in each town, but the deaths all look the same. No apparent wounds that could cause death. No poisons. No reason these healthy, young men should be dead at all. That's one of the reasons everyone has hesitated to label these murders as the work of a serial killer. We can't figure out what's happening.”

I tried to imagine how this could fit in with what Cassandra had said. It was possible for a witch to kill without leaving a mark on the victim. But that would mean we were dealing with a witch killing his or her own instead of a non–magic user killing witches.

Cassandra hadn't mentioned witch-on-witch deaths being involved in this. Perhaps she'd just neglected to include that information until her big reveal tomorrow night at the full moon celebration. She had a strong flair for the dramatic.

“Can you put that aside for a few minutes so we can go into the bedroom?” I tried to make it sound suggestive, as though I'd missed him and needed time to cuddle.

He smiled, moved the pans from the stove and turned off the heat. “Sure thing.”

The bedroom seemed like the best place to use magic to escape detection. We'd made our past visits to the bubble seem like romantic interludes in case anyone was watching and listening.

We went into the bedroom. Joe immediately took me in his arms and began kissing me. I put my arms around him and then muttered the enchantment for the bubble.

“Oh.” He glanced at the opaque covering around us. “I thought we were
really
going to fool around.”

“I need to talk to you about these deaths. All the victims are witches. I don't know if the killer is a witch yet. I might find out tomorrow night.”

“How do you know that, Molly? Does someone keep up with that kind of thing?”

“Yes—the same people who make this enchanted bubble necessary. We got word this afternoon that witches are dying. That was right before you told me about your case.”

He shook his head. “Any chance your witches' council would like to share information?”

“None whatsoever. I'm giving you a heads-up. Witches can kill leaving no mark behind. You'd never be able to use forensic science to discover the killer. If I find out there's a witch killing other witches, you need to think of a good reason not to be part of this investigation.”

“You know that's not going to happen.” He frowned, still holding me close. “I can't just drop a case because my wife is a witch and she's afraid for me to go toe-to-toe with another witch. We'll figure it out. Have some faith. No telling how many witch killings I've worked on and didn't even know it.”

“Witches don't normally kill other witches. The council would handle it if they did.” I stared into his beautiful eyes. “I know this is hard for you to understand, but if there
is
a witch killing these young men, anyone standing in the way could
die too. And you wouldn't even have the protection these young witches had.”

He kissed me again. “I love you, Molly. But I'm not going to quit my job because you've told me there's real magic in the world. I would appreciate any updates you get.”

Joe had always been stubborn. I loved him anyway. I knew I might have to come up with a plan to protect him despite himself.

I could feel the enchantment wearing off and smell the peppers and onions waiting for dinner in the kitchen. That was all the time we had to discuss what was happening on his case. I hoped it was enough to make him more aware while he was looking for the killer.

“Supper smells really good.” I smiled as we started out of the bedroom. “I didn't realize how hungry I was.”

The doorbell rang. Joe suddenly got a guilty expression on his face.

“I'm sorry, Molly. With everything going on—I forgot to tell you that Suzanne needs a place to stay—until she's set up at the hotel that's been approved by her police department back home. I thought it wouldn't be a big deal if she stays in Mike's room for tonight.”

Keep my loved one from harm,

Take my fear from me,

Light his way through dark and storm.

One, two, three—So mote it be.

I didn't make a big deal out of sharing dinner, or the bottle of wine Suzanne had brought with her. We sat around talking for a while after the meal—mostly Suzanne and Joe talked about the old days and what they'd been doing since then.

I sat with them for an hour and then went into Mike's room to change the sheets on the bed for our guest.

Isabelle jumped squarely on the bed and faced me. She couldn't believe I was welcoming this woman into my home. My cat had decided that this was crossing certain personal lines that shouldn't be crossed. But then, Isabelle had the spirit of a woman. I was sure Joe would never understand.

I didn't try to explain. I smoothed the sheets as Isabelle offered a spell that would make Suzanne itchy all night. I thanked her for it, but didn't use the spell. I knew plenty of spells that could do the job if it came down to it.

After that was done, I went into the garden. The moon was bright and pink-hued as it rose over the horizon. A spring moon. Tomorrow would be the full moon celebration. I toyed
with the idea of using the moon for a spell to make sure Joe and I would be strong together.

But in my heart, I knew we were all right. Joe thought of this as a kindness to a fellow officer who just happened to be his ex-wife. He would've also extended the courtesy if the Savannah police had sent a man he'd never met. It was part of who he was, and I loved him for it. I didn't want him to be any other way.

So far I hadn't received any kind of vibe from Suzanne that she thought of Joe as anything more than her temporary partner. If I received that feeling, I could always resort to strong measures to deter her. She wasn't a witch, and even though the council frowned on using magic against people who had none, it went on every day.

As I sat in the garden with the moonlight bathing me, my amulet began to glow. I looked inside it and saw movement in the active blue stone. It was as though the tides were trapped inside, restless and waiting.

It reminded me that there was something else we needed to concentrate on during the full moon celebration—our missing spell book.

We'd used magic to search for it after it had been stolen. I had tried not to make a big deal of it, since I knew Olivia blamed herself for its loss. Not that she could have done anything to prevent it from being stolen. She had already been dead when it happened.

I thought about her funeral six months ago. She'd cried more than anyone else gathered at her graveside. Only the witches present could hear and see her. The flowers had been beautiful, and the service sweet, with bagpipes playing, just as she'd requested.

It was the oddest funeral I'd ever been to.

Still, it was nice knowing she really wasn't in that deep pit in the ground. Maybe other witches didn't like it, but I didn't care. It was wonderful still having her here with us each day.
But it had left us uneasy where discussing our missing spell book was concerned.

We'd tried locator spells with Brian's help, but there had been no sign of it. We'd given up, as Dorothy's training had begun and other matters had taken our attention.

We couldn't forget that our spell book was important. It held all the spells that had been written by our families for several generations. We had incorporated the spells we'd used too. I didn't like the idea that it was out there being used by someone else. Despite Olivia's sad feelings about remembering that time, we had to talk about it again and get it back.

I stared into the cool orb above me. The moon could reveal important matters and secret things. Whoever had stolen our spell book had it hidden. The magic was powerful enough to keep us from finding it easily.

I needed to talk with Dorothy and Elsie before we went to the celebration tomorrow. If we all focused our energy on a spell, perhaps the location of our spell book would be revealed. We needed it if Elsie and I ever planned to retire. It would be handed to Dorothy as the leader of the new coven. I hoped she would be the oldest and strongest witch of the three we needed to find.

I breathed in the sweet smells of spring, feeling the new life surrounding me. I thought about Brian and his importance to us. He was still an unknown factor. Without commitment, no magic was strong. He had been elusive and cagey about wanting to be part of the group. I didn't mind him being around. He was very helpful. But there would come a time when he would either have to commit to us or we would have to ask him to leave.

It was easy to see that the idea of commitment was alien to him. His life was fractured with no real meaning. Even his training—despite the fact that he came from a powerful bloodline—had been neglected. I didn't understand what his parents were thinking, sending a young witch into the world
with too much money and so little emphasis on the responsibility to his magic.

Not that it was my place to question. I only knew what sort of witch worked well for a coven, and Brian wasn't that witch, at least right now. I hoped he would be in the near future and that he would commit to us. That would leave us with only one more witch to find as a replacement for the three of us.

Joe was retiring from the police department soon. I hoped to be able to “retire” at the same time—and convince him that we should move to Boca. It wasn't something we'd talked about yet.

I hoped that wasn't asking for too much in the next few years.

“Molly?” Joe walked out into the garden. “Suzanne has gone to bed. Are you about ready? I have an early day tomorrow.”

“Yes. I'm ready.” We put our arms around each other as we walked to the house.

“Nice moon.” He looked up. “Isn't this the harvest moon or something?”

“No. It's spring. This would be the planting moon.”

“My grandmother used to keep up with all that stuff. She knew every phase of the moon and how it affected gardening. I looked at the
Old Farmer's Almanac
with her when I was a kid. It was fascinating.”

“How the moon affects us is important,” I agreed. “It subtly influences many aspects of our lives and shows us hidden places inside ourselves.”

He opened the door into the house. “That's not part of the
other
stuff, right?”

“No. That's folklore and the
Old Farmer's Almanac
.” I hadn't said anything to him about his mistake in calling me his little witch. We'd met in the enchanted bubble once a week or so to talk about things. I warned him each time. There was no point rubbing his nose in it. No one was perfect.

“I hope you're okay with me letting Suze stay here overnight.”

Suze?
“It's fine, though I wish you would've called or texted me to let me know so I could be prepared. She walked in as you told me.”

He locked the outside door and ran a hand around the back of his neck. “I'm sorry, Molly. You're right. I guess I dreaded telling you.”

Maybe he was figuring it out. “Why?”

“I don't know. The whole ex-wife thing, I guess.” He smiled. “Thanks for being so understanding.”

We got ready for bed and turned out the lights. It was an odd feeling knowing Suzanne was asleep in our son's room. Not that we hadn't had friends or relatives spend the night in that room before. It was knowing who she
had been
that made me uneasy.

Isabelle confessed to having the same feeling and vowed to spend the night watching Suzanne in case she made any threatening moves. She promised to sleep outside Suzanne's door in case she needed to alert me to her activities.

I stroked her soft fur and thanked her for looking after me.

It was a little after midnight the last time I looked at the clock. The full moon brings dreams with it, and I dreamed about being at Oak Island again.

It was clearly during a time when the English colony had still been there. I walked through the sandy lanes and rough houses. Children were crying, and women were carrying bundles of clothes to be washed in the Atlantic surf.

This was long before the lighthouse had been built to provide safe passage past the rough rocks and dangerous shoals. The people in the colony hadn't survived, much like other early settlements. These were difficult situations, where desperation and fear took their toll on the hardy souls who'd ventured here.

I heard shouting from a distance and then a woman was
dragged into the center of the village. Three men dressed in black tied her hands to a pole and began heaping wood around her feet.

She was very lovely. The sun shone on her auburn hair. Above her gagged mouth, crystal blue eyes beseeched her captors to release her. Other members of the village began spilling out of their houses.

“Do not look into her eyes,” one of the men warned. “Her heart is black with evil magic. She will enslave you to do her bidding. Stay away, lest ye be taken.”

The villagers crossed themselves, and only the men remained to see a fire lighted in the branches around the woman's feet.

“Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live,” the man who'd spoken said. “Fire cleanses all. Our village will grow and prosper once the witch is dead.”

It was played out in my dream as it had been in real life so many times during that era and before. As Phoebe had said at the shop, we were fortunate to live in a more enlightened time. Witches weren't routinely killed in the name of superstition. Yet the terrible history of our past remained.

In my dream, a sudden wind blew up from the sea. The waves rose up, crashing louder on the shore. It took only moments for the village to be swamped with seawater, houses and people washing away.

The fire no longer burned at the feet of the witch, but she hung, lifeless, from the pole.

Another man, naked, his black hair hanging to his shoulders, was mostly covered with seaweed. He approached the woman with measured strides, cut her down and cradled her in his arms. The sea continued to rise, gray and green, around them. He didn't move, ignoring the rising waters. In a few moments there was nothing but ocean where the village had been.

I woke with a start, feeling that woman's pain as though it were my own. It had been so
real
. My heart was racing and
my hands shook. I pressed myself against Joe and listened to his steady heartbeat. He put his arm around me and murmured sleepy words of assurance.

Smiling, I looked into his face to kiss him.

It was the face of the Bone Man.

I screamed and jumped out of bed—or tried to. My foot got caught on the sheet and I fell face first on the carpet. Joe yelled and knocked over the bedside table lamp. It shattered against the wall. He grabbed his revolver from the bedside table where he always kept it.

“Molly?” Joe was breathing hard.

“Just a bad dream.” I pulled myself up from the floor. I didn't want to explain my recent Bone Man sightings to Joe. “Sorry.”

He turned on the overhead light, came around the side of the bed and examined my face. “Are you okay?”

“Better than the lamp. These are the ones your mother gave us.”

Joe hugged me and put away his gun. “I never liked them anyway. Let's go back to sleep.”

But there was no way I could get back to sleep that night. I was going to have to find out why the Bone Man kept coming to see me.