The Trouble With Witches (37 page)

"What's going on?" I said as
Darci
and I entered the room.

Abby stood quietly in the room, and Walks Quietly stopped his pacing and began to remove the dishes from the table. "I had troubled dreams last night, so I went to the sweat lodge at daybreak to find guidance." His face tightened in a frown. "But I learned nothing.
Tink
must have come while I was in the sweat lodge." He picked up a piece of paper lying on the table and handed it to me. "I found that on the porch, under a rock."

I read the note quickly. It was as
Darci
had told me.
Tink
had wanted him to meet her down by the lake. No reason given, just that she had something important to tell him.

I noticed the jagged edge on the pad of paper. "She came in the cabin to write this?"

"Yes." Walks
Quietly
moved to the old sink and began rinsing the plate and silverware. "
Tink
never comes in the cabin. We always have our talks by the lake, even in the winter."

I turned to Abby. "What do you think?"

She shrugged.

"
Darci
said you found her bike in the woods," I said to Walks Quietly. "Has anyone talked to the Finches?"

"Of course.
I went to the compound after I found her bicycle, but no one was there." He turned away from the counter. "The place is deserted, empty."

"It can't be," I said, confused. "I saw Winnie in a clearing directly across from here on the other side of the lake."

"I tell you, the place was deserted."

"Should we call the sheriff?"
Darci
piped in.

"And tell them what, dear?" Abby asked.

Darci
pulled out a chair and plopped down. "I don't know."

"Has anyone called Rick?" I asked.

"I did," Abby replied. "But he wasn't in his room. I left a message for him to come to the lake as soon as he gets back."

I turned toward the door. "I'm going to the Finches. Someone has to be there."

Darci
sprang from her chair. "I'm going, too."

"
Darci
—" I stopped. One look at her face told me I'd be wasting my time arguing. "Okay, let's go." I glanced over my shoulder at Abby. "You stay here and wait for Rick."

Fifteen minutes later
Darci
and I stood on the Finches' porch, knocking at the door.

"Walks
Quietly
was right. No one's here,"
Darci
whispered.

I arched an eyebrow. "Why are you whispering?"

She rubbed her arms. "It's so quiet here that it's spooky. Don't you feel it?"

She was right. The air was totally still, and a feeling of abandonment hung over the place.

Turning the knob, I found the door unlocked.

Opening it and sticking my head in, I called out, "Hello.
Anyone home?"

Silence was the answer.

"Let's go in,"
Darci
said, pushing passed me.

"Wait a second." I made a move to grab her arm but missed. "We can't go barging into someone else's house."

"Yes we can." She was already down the hall.

Following her in, we did a quick search of the rooms downstairs.
Nothing.
It did look like the Finches had left. Even Juliet's loom was gone from its spot by the windows.

"Do you suppose that's what
Tink
wanted to tell Walks Quietly? That they were leaving?"
Darci
asked from the middle of the room.

"Maybe."
My eyes traveled the empty room. "Let's go outside and look around."

We went back out the way we came, carefully shutting the door behind us. We had rounded the corner of the house when I saw Winnie, with her head down, scurrying up the hill from the boathouse. In her arms she carried a bundle of what looked like clothes.

I grabbed
Darci's
arm and pulled her behind a tree. Putting a finger to my lips, we hid while Winnie hurried by. Once she reached the top of the hill, I motioned toward the boathouse. Like a couple of characters out of a spy novel,
Darci
and I moved from tree to tree until we'd reached the building. We dashed around the corner and were finally out of sight of the main house.

Leaning against the boathouse, I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Made it," I said in whisper.

"Winnie sure seemed anxious to get away from here, didn't she?"
Darci
asked.

"Yeah."
My eyes slid toward
Darci
. "Let's see why."

We climbed the rickety steps leading to the upper story. I tested the wooden door.
Unlocked.
Swinging it open, we stepped inside the room.

Cardboard boxes were stacked everywhere, and an old cot was shoved against one wall. Next to the cot was a large, black-lacquered box, taller than I was and wide enough for two people, wrapped in chains.

"
Darci
," I
said,
crossing over to it. "This must be one of Jason's props. And look, the padlock isn't shut."

Darci
joined me while I removed the lock and let the chains drop to the floor. Turning the small knob, I let the door swing open.

"Whoa, what
is
that smell?" I pinched my nose to block the pungent aroma that filled the room.

"This,"
Darci
said, reaching inside the box and pulling out a ratty blanket.
"Gosh, it smells like somebody died in there…" Her eyes widened as she stared at me. "You don't suppose—"

"Brandi?"

"I told you to go away, but you wouldn't listen," said a voice from across the room. "Now I have to punish you."

Darci
and I whirled to see Winnie standing in the center of the room.

Strands of hair straggled around her face, and her eyes darted back and forth between
Darci
and me. In her shaking hand she held a gun, its barrel waving wildly.

Panic fought with fear inside me. I could see Winnie's finger tremble on the trigger. Any second the gun could go off. Maybe we could make a run for it. But Winnie blocked our way to the open door.

I hooked
Darci's
arm and edged sideways, pulling her with me. "Winnie, put that gun down. You might shoot someone," I said with false bravado.

Her mouth twisted in a snide grin while she kept the barrel trained on us. "That's the point, isn't it?"

The blanket slipped from
Darci's
limp hands, and she clutched my arm.
"Ophelia."
Her voice was tight with fear.

I ignored her and took another step to the side.

Winnie grabbed the gun with both hands and motioned with the barrel toward the box. "Get back over there."

I released
Darci's
arm and held up my hands in surrender. We moved until we were in front of the box again.

"Get inside."

I glanced over my shoulder at the dark interior and shuddered.

"Go on," Winnie said, drawing my attention back to her.

"You don't want to do this," I pleaded. "I know Jason is looking for Von Schuler's book. The book is evil, Winnie. You have to get away from him. We can help you."

Winnie seemed to sag, and the barrel of the gun dropped.

I took a step forward, but she stiffened and brought the gun up sharply.

"You don't understand. I can't leave. I have to do what they want." Her chin jutted out. "And you're too late. We found the book. You led us right to it. It was buried under the bush you were digging at this morning." The gun quivered. "Now get in the box."

Betting my will was stronger than
hers,
I crossed my arms and glared at her. "No."

Wrong bet.

The gun stopped shaking, and Winnie's pudgy face filled with determination. "Either get in the box or I'll shoot you both."

What a choice—in the box or die. I picked in the box.

Grasping
Darci's
arm, I pulled her in with me.

In an instant Winnie crossed the room and shut the door, extinguishing all light. From inside I heard the clank of chains as she wrapped them around the outside. The last sound was the tiny click of the padlock closing.

Seconds ticked by in silence while I pondered what to do next. Not like I had a lot of choices. We were shut inside a box, in total darkness.
Nothing to do but wait.

"I don't feel so good,"
Darci
moaned in the darkness.

I waved my hand until it came in contact with something solid.
Darci
.

"You can't get sick," I said, shaking her arm. "It smells bad enough in here."

My hand lost contact as I felt
Darci
slide to the bottom of the trunk. I inched my way down until I was kneeling next to her. "Take deep breaths and put your head between your knees."

The sound of
Darci's
deep breathing filled the darkness. Suddenly, the sound stopped.

"What if we run out of oxygen?"
Darci
asked in a voice full of panic.

"We won't. This isn't airtight." I found
Darci's
shoulder and patted it. "We'll be rescued. Abby will turn this place upside down to find us."

"Can you reach her, umm, you know, 'mentally'?"

"I can try."

I sat back and leaned against the side of the box. Closing my eyes, I tried to picture Abby's face. Silver hair, green eyes full of worry at our disappearance—once I had the image fixed in my mind, I concentrated on where we were.
Dark, alone.
My eyes shot open.

That's what Abby had said when she looked at Brandi's pictures. While I was having dinner with the Finches, Brandi had been just a short distance away—shut inside this box.

The thought sickened me.

"Anything?"
Darci
asked.

"No." I patted her knee. "Don't worry. They'll find us."

Darci's
breathing became rapid. "We're going to die in this stupid box."

Dang, she was hyperventilating.

An idea popped in my head. "
Darci
, you believe I'm psychic, don't you?"

"Well, yeah," she gasped. "Sometimes I wonder how good you are, though."

You and me both.

"Okay, since I'm psychic, I should be able to tell your future, right?" I said, trying to sound confident.

Her breathing slowed.
"Right."

I found
Darci's
hand in the darkness and placed my other hand on top. Nervous sweat dampened my palms. What if I didn't see anything? Would that mean we were both going to die?

I shook my head.
Darci
was going to get a positive reading even if I had to make something up.

Slowly, images began to appear in rapid succession behind my closed eyes. I saw
Darci
standing before a crowd of people. Everyone was smiling and nodding their heads in approval as they watched a man in a suit hand
Darci
a plaque.
Darci
, with a radiant look on her face, shook the man's hand. When she did, the crowd clapped with enthusiasm.

Darci's
hand clenched mine. "What do you see?"

"You're going to win some kind of award," I said, opening my eyes. "And the whole town will be there, cheering you on."

She snorted.
"Yeah, sure.
Everyone in Summerset thinks I'm an airhead."

"But I know you're not." I squeezed her fingers. "Really,
Darci
, something's going to happen, and you're going to receive the recognition you deserve."

"That would be nice," she said in a small voice. "I get tired of people thinking I'm stupid."

I released her hand. "Do you feel better now?"

"Yeah, except—" She cleared her throat, and I felt her squirm. "I drank too much tea this morning."

"Oh God,
Darci
," I groaned. "Not now."