The Trouble With Witches (24 page)

"Oh come, Abby," I scoffed. "Whatever they are, they're just a bunch of lines put together."

"No," she said with a quick shake of her head. "They're symbols, and symbols have power."

My eyes narrowed as I watched her. "What kind of power?"

"I don't know. I suspect, based on what's been happening to you, nothing good."

The weariness I'd been fighting overcame me, and I felt my body sag against the back of my chair.

"Come on," she said, standing. "Let's get you to bed. We're not going to solve anything tonight. Tomorrow's soon enough."

She pulled me to my feet, and throwing an arm around my shoulders, escorted me to my room. Once there, she tucked me in as if I were a child. With a quick kiss on my forehead, she turned out the lights and left.

I stared at the dark ceiling while I felt my eyelids grow heavy. Finally, my body relaxed and sleep called tome.

Unfortunately, the last memory I had before my mind went into free fall was a pair of violet eyes.

Dressed, but not quite ready to be sociable, I wandered to the kitchen and found Abby puttering around.

Seeing me, she smiled and handed me a fresh cup of coffee. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah, a little," I said, taking a sip. "Where's
Darci
?"

"She had an errand to run, but should be back—" She stopped and cocked her head, listening.

The sound of a boat motor rumbled from the lake below.
A sound very close to the cabin.

Abby opened the cabinet door and took out a small cooler. "Go put on your swimsuit while I get this ready," she said, walking over to the refrigerator.

"What's going on?" I asked, shoving my hands in the pockets of my shorts.

"Never mind.
Get your suit on, and then take this down to the dock," she said, pointing to the cooler.

Quickly, I did what Abby had told me. And when I returned to the kitchen, she handed me the cooler without explanation.

I opened my mouth, but she interrupted.

"Go," she said, shooing me toward the sliding glass doors.

"Okay, okay," I said over my shoulder, and left the cabin.

Arriving at the top of the steps leading down to the lake, I saw a pontoon boat, tied to the dock. A woman stood on the deck, her hand shading her eyes, looking up at me.

Blond hair, bikini top, wearing shorts—really short shorts.
Darci
.

"Where did you get this?" I asked when I reached the dock.

"I rented it. Come on, let's go for a ride." She moved behind the steering console and sat on the bench seat located at the rear of the boat. "I see Abby gave you the cooler," she said as I stepped aboard.

"You two have been plotting, haven't you?" I asked.

At the same time,
Darci
gunned the motor. With one hand to her ear, she shook her head, pretending she couldn't hear me.

Giving up, I set the cooler down and cast off the line. Slowly, the pontoon pulled away. Once the boat cleared the end of the dock,
Darci
swung the nose around and headed away from the shore.

Without speaking, I sat on one of the bench seats and enjoyed the ride.

The pontoon
Darci
had rented was about sixteen feet long and about twenty feet wide. Two bench seats stretched along both sides. In front, the deck extended out over the points of the aluminum pontoons, creating a swim platform, perfect for sunbathing.

The pontoon rode the wakes created by the ski boats that whizzed by gracefully. Adjusting my steps to the rolling motion of the deck, I crossed to the back and took a place next to
Darci
.

Couldn't pretend not to hear me now.

"I suppose you want to know about yesterday?" I asked.

"No," she replied without looking at me.

"Last night?"
I asked, my voice confused.

"No." She turned and looked at me. "Ophelia, sit back and relax."

"What's in the cooler?"

"Never mind.
You'll find out when we get there." She didn't take her eyes off the water.

"Where's that?"

"
Ophelia
," she said, lowering her sunglasses and staring at me. "
Relax
."

"I don't know how anymore," I muttered.

"Try and remember." She shoved her glasses higher up on her nose and put an end to conversation.

A few minutes later an island appeared in the center of the lake.
Darci
turned the wheel and headed toward it. When we were about fifteen feet from the island, she cut the motor and the pontoon drifted to shore. She stood and threw the anchor overboard.

"May I talk now?" I asked sarcastically.

She smiled. "Yes.
As long as it isn't about spiders, books, magicians, or missing girls."

My eyes widened in surprise. "You
really
don't want to know about yesterday?"

"No, I don't," she said with emphasis. "Abby filled me in this morning."
Darci
removed a bottle of suntan lotion from her bag, poured a generous amount in her hand,
then
tossed the bottle to me.

I dumped some of the lotion in my palm and rubbed it on my legs. "
Darci
, this isn't like you. You're usually full of questions. What's up?"

She whirled, and taking off her sunglasses, gave me a fierce glare. "Have you taken a good look at yourself lately?"

"Well, yeah," I said, squirming on the seat.
"Last night, when I was getting ready to go."

She put one hand on her hip. "And what did you see?"

I lifted my shoulders in a shrug. "I don't know. Same stuff as usual—two eyes, a nose, and a mouth."

"Not funny," she said with a toss of her head. "Did you see the dark circles under your eyes? Did you notice how pale you are?"

"Abby might have mentioned it," I replied grudgingly.

"You're so worried about everyone else that you're not taking care of yourself." She eyed me critically.

"I've got to tell you, Ophelia, you're starting to look positively haggard."

"Thanks a lot," I sputtered.

"Well you are. We're worried about you."
Darci
stomped her bare foot. "You've been here, what four, maybe five days? And look at everything that's happened to you. Dreams, evil cabins, threats from some crazy guy. It's getting to you. You're even losing weight."

"Hey, a few pounds wouldn't hurt," I said with a smile, trying to defuse the apprehension I felt pouring off of her.

"That's not funny, either."

"Look,
Darce
, I appreciate your concern, but maybe I'm coming down with a summer cold or something."

"I don't think so. And neither does Abby."
Darci
flounced over to the swim deck. "I brought you out here to get away from the cabin for a while and from all the stress." She spread out a beach towel and dropped down on her knees. "And you're going to relax, gosh darn it," she said, shaking her finger at me.

I chuckled. "Yes ma'am." I saluted.

Darci
rolled her eyes, and without a word stretched out facedown on the beach towel.

Still smiling, I walked over to the starboard bench, sat, propped my legs up, and stared down into the water.

The water below the pontoon was deep, but clear enough that I could see the lacy fronds of weeds growing on the bottom. The waves hitting the shore rocked the boat gently. I tipped my head back and closed my eyes.

They shot open. Remembering what had happened the day on the dock when I'd closed my eyes, I decided maybe I should keep them open.

I returned to watching the underwater plants sway in rhythm with the waves. A turtle glided by, his dark shape almost hidden in the vegetation. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted a flash of orange among the weeds. Turning my head, I looked hard at the place where I'd first seen the flash.
Nothing.
Probably a fish trying to hide from the turtle.

The roar of a speedboat caught my attention. Over the sound of its engine, I heard whistling and yelling. Looking toward the sound, I saw the boat zooming close to where we were anchored. One guy drove, while two guys stood straight up in the boat, waving their arms, yelling and smiling.

Ahh
, yes.
Darci
in her bikini.

She lifted her head, gave them a passing glance,
then
ignored them.

The driver of the boat, seeing
Darci's
reaction, cut hard to the left, away from us, and went back the way they'd come.

The wake created by the sharp turn stirred the water around the pontoon forcefully. I looked over the side and saw the weeds whip back and forth. Again I caught a glimpse of something orange. It appeared to be orange fibers weaving in and out of the fronds. The fibers glided upward, freed by the churning water. And as they did, they grew in quantity. More strands emerged out of the depths of the lake. They undulated in the current and were attached to something white and pasty. The pale belly of what looked like a dead fish rose with the strands.

The fish grew bigger as it approached the surface. Only as it came into sight, I could see it wasn't a fish. No fins, no gills, no tail.

Instead of a fish head attached to the end of the cracked, bloated flesh, a hand drifted in the water, its fingers flopping in a macabre wave.

I'd found a body.

I sat bundled on the couch in a blanket that Abby had found in the closet. And in spite of the hot August day, my shoulders shook with trembling and my muscles tightened with tension. Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt now, I clenched a steaming mug of tea in my hands
Darci
, also wearing jeans and a shirt, fared a little better than I did. She didn't have the shakes, but her normally tan face was three shades whiter than milk. Her hands also gripped a large mug of Abby's tea.

Peppermint tea could settle the stomach; spearmint tea would help with colds and flu; chamomile tea could provide a good night's sleep. But I didn't know if Abby had a specific tea to help someone who kept finding bodies.