The Witch is Dead (28 page)

Bill barked an order to the young deputy, still pale as he leaned against the side of the old house. I couldn’t make out his words, but whatever they were, they sent the young man scurrying.

Bill pulled his hat low on his head, and I felt his eyes fix on me. With purposeful strides, he walked to the car until he towered over me.

“You outdid yourself this time, Ophelia. Must be twenty bodies down there.”

“Technically, I didn’t find them.” I got out of the car and pointed at Ethan. “He did.”

Bill removed his hat and rubbed his head. “You want to explain whose idea it was to come here, and why?” He gave me a stern look. “And while you’re at it, you want to explain what you were doing at Green’s Crematorium last night?”

My eyes narrowed as they focused on Ethan. Someone had ratted me out.

He tapped his forehead in a salute, turned and walked away, leaving me to do my own explaining.

Thanks, Ethan.

“Ahh—well—it’s like this…” I said, stumbling over my words as I tried to dig myself out of the hole into which Ethan had so thoughtfully dumped me.

He lifted a brow. “Yes?”

Tugging on Bill’s arm, I pulled him over to a tree where our conversation wouldn’t be overheard by all the official personnel milling around the overgrown yard.

“Are you going to arrest me if I tell the truth?”

His hand stole halfway to his head before he dropped it to his side.

“If you are,” I continued in a stubborn voice, “I won’t admit to a thing, and you’re just going to have to prove I’ve been engaged in illegal activities.” I kicked a dirt clod lying at my feet. “I have to find Tink, and I can’t do it sitting in a jail cell.”

“No, I’m not going to arrest you,” he said slowly, as if he had to think about it. “I don’t think you’d be a model prisoner, Ophelia, and I’ve enough problems without you raising a ruckus from one of my cells.”

“All righty, then.” I jerked my head toward a spot farther from the crowd milling around the old house. “Tink’s dreams of spirits trying to contact her began the night before we met Buchanan at the airport. When she did meet him, she said later he gave her an ‘icky’ feeling.” A thought came to me. “The day we introduced you to Aunt Dot at Stumpy’s, had you just come from Buchanan’s murder scene?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You gave her the same feeling.”

“Are you telling me she sensed Buchanan was dead?”

“No, not exactly. I don’t know how to explain how Tink’s sixth sense works, or how it feels, since I’m not a medium.”

“How did she take Buchanan’s death?”

“She felt guilty. She thought the spirits were trying to give her a message, and if she’d been open to listening, she might have been able to warn him.”

Bill scratched his head. “Buchanan would’ve thought she was nuts.”

I nodded. “That’s what I told her, too, but the guilt she felt caused her to react the way she did at the campgrounds when T.P. brought her the skull.”

Bill’s eyes traveled around the property. “I’ve got a pretty good idea where the dog found the skull.”

I squinted my eyes, staring at the old farmhouse and thinking of all the unburied. “If Silas hasn’t been cremating the bodies, what’s in the urns he’s giving to the families of the dead?”

Bill’s jaw worked as he clenched and unclenched his teeth. “The medical examiner will have to determine that.” He rubbed his head and exhaled a long breath. “It will be necessary to go through all his records, contact the families, and test all the ashes.”

“When you do look at his files, you’re going to find he falsified death certificates and family consent forms for tissue donation,” I said, still watching the farmhouse.

He turned to me in surprise. “How do you—” Breaking off abruptly, he held up a hand. “No, don’t tell me. I’m going to pretend you figured it out from a vision.”

I dropped another piece of information. “Silas was selling the tissue to Dr. Christopher Mason’s biomedical supply company.”

“Should I assume that was from another ‘vision,’ or am I going to get a complaint from Dr. Mason? Did you sneak around his property, too?”

I gave Bill a small grin. “I think for your peace of mind…let’s go with ‘vision.’”

Bill pulled a pad and pen from his front pocket. Flipping it open, he wrote Christopher’s name. “Is this the doctor in Des Moines?”

“Yeah, Darci could give you the address of his biomedical supply office.”

“Darci, huh?” he said with a scowl.

My grin widened to a smile in response. The smile fled as another thought occurred to me. “I’ve got a question for you. Ethan mentioned that harvesting would require some skill. The bodies? Were they, um, um—”

“Hacked?” he asked, finishing my sentence.

I paled. “Yeah.”

“Hard to tell.” His mouth formed a grim line. “Some were…well, in pretty bad shape.”

“That’s okay,” I said, wincing. “I get the picture.”

“We’ll know more after the autopsies.” He tapped the pen on the notebook. “You’re thinking maybe someone with a medical background helped with the tissue retrieval? Maybe Dr. Mason was more than just the buyer?”

“The thought crossed my mind.”

Bill focused on the old house. “I don’t know how much skill it would take. That’s another question the M.E. will be able to answer. I do remember Silas worked for a meat packing plant up north before he went into the business with his dad.”

“So he would know—”

“How to use a saw.” He faced me. “You’re still convinced Silas is tied to Tink’s disappearance?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I’ve got a warrant issued for him. Once we find him, we’ll haul him in for questioning—”

“Once you find him? You mean he’s gone?”

Bill patted my arm reassuringly. “Silas wasn’t at his house
when Alan stopped, but he’s checking out Silas’s known hangouts. Don’t worry. We’ll find him, and—”

One of Bill’s deputies stepped out of the barn and, cupping his hands to his mouth, yelled, “Hey, Bill, you’d better get over here. We’ve found more bodies.”

As one of the deputies drove me home a short time later, we had to pass the group of gawkers gathered at the end of the lane. Slouching down in the seat, I shielded my face with the palm of my hand. Sooner or later the grisly discovery at the vacant Green farm would have the rumor mill churning. And sooner or later my role would be known.

I preferred later. I had enough to think about at the moment.

The house was empty when I walked in. After wandering through the kitchen, I went out the back door.

Aunt Dot sat at the patio table, tossing a ball to T.P. with her good hand. Lady lay at her feet, and Queenie watched from her perch on the table.

“Where’s Abby?” I asked, flopping down in the chair next to her.

“Abby’s at the greenhouse.” She gazed at me with concern. “You were gone a long time. We were beginning to worry.”

“Sorry. Ran into some problems.” Giving a long sigh, I related my morning to Aunt Dot.

Her eyes flashed with anger as she smacked her cane on the patio. “That awful, awful, man!” she exclaimed in disgust. “Ack, such disrespect. Bad enough carving up the dead, but then to treat them like garbage.”

Her words brought back vivid images of what I’d seen in that basement. I held up a hand, stopping her. “Okay, okay. Could we please not talk about it?”

She turned to me, her face full of sympathy. “Would you like some hot tea?”

“No, thanks anyway.”

“A sandwich?”

I rolled my eyes and stuck out my tongue. “Absolutely not.”

“No, I don’t suppose you do,” she said with a sad shake of her head.

T.P. gave up on Aunt Dot continuing their game of fetch and abandoned the ball to chase a butterfly flitting around the backyard.

I watched Aunt Dot and could almost see the wheels spinning underneath the cap of blue frizz. “What are you thinking?” I asked.

“Kevin—I want to grill Kevin,” she replied with a determined nod.

A laugh escaped me. “Why Kevin? He’s not involved with Silas.”

“Are you sure?”

“I suppose in a way he is—he worked for Mr. Buchanan, so he would have had dealings with Silas.” I gave her a puzzled look. “I thought you liked Kevin. You invited him to Abby’s for dinner.”

“There’s something fishy about him.”

“Aunt Dot, yesterday you were convinced Mrs. Buchanan and Dr. Mason were involved in Buchanan’s death. Today you suspect Kevin. What changed your mind?”

“Humph, he gossiped about his employer’s wife.”

“Well, yes he did, but—”

“The fairies don’t like him.”

Ahh, jeez. Not the fairies again. I noticed that whenever Aunt Dot needed a reason to justify her opinion, she used the fairies. Must be nice to have such a handy excuse. Oh well,
at ninety-one, I guess she was entitled. I decided I might as well play along with her.

“Did the fairies give you any more information about Tink?” I asked, trying to keep the doubt out of my voice.

Her head bobbed once with certainty. “Yes, Tink’s sending you a message.”

My hand shot out and touched her arm. “What? What kind of a message? Do you mean she’s trying to reach me with her mind?”

“I don’t know. The fairies didn’t say.” She lowered her head. “They don’t like to meddle in human affairs, you know.”

Peachy. Why couldn’t they just be like the rest of us?

Thirty

The need to wash away the scent of death I felt clinging to me had become overpowering, so I left Aunt Dot on the patio and went to take a shower. Grabbing the sea salt, I sprinkled tiny grains in my hair as I stood and let the hot water cascade over me. Immediately, a sense of cleansing came to me. I hadn’t realized it, but the scene I’d witnessed in the basement had infiltrated me to the core with its ugliness.

I scrubbed my flesh until it felt almost raw, trying to drive the images from my mind and soul. I’d never forget what I’d seen, but I had to detach myself in order to continue my quest to find Tink.

When I finished my shower, I sprayed the rosewater that Abby had made for me all over my body. Now, instead of decay assaulting my nose, the warm summer smell of roses surrounded me.

Dressed in my long terry-cloth robe, I padded down the stairs and into my office. A quick check out the window revealed Aunt Dot still on the patio with the pets.

Good. I could count on being undisturbed for at least a little while.

Crossing to my desk, I removed my bag of runes. Just like
I had several nights ago, I made a circle of salt in the middle of the room. Lighting sage and a pure white candle, I picked up an amethyst from my desk and seated myself cross-legged in the circle’s center. I unfolded a square of linen and laid the runes in my lap.

Tink was trying to send me a message, huh? Let’s see if the runes would deliver it.

Placing the amethyst next to the candle, I tried to calm my fears for her safety and let each deep breath I took carry them away. I picked up the bag and focused on my senses one at a time.

Outside, I heard T.P. yapping playfully, and Aunt Dot’s low chuckle.

I felt the cool stones contained in the worn leather pouch slip through my fingers.

With each breath, I inhaled the sweet aroma of sage mingled with the scent of rosewater.

I let my eyelids drift closed and saw stars dancing in the darkness as I concentrated on seeing with my mind instead of my eyes.

Carefully, I framed my question.How to find Tink?

My hand tingled as the runes called to me. Removing one of the stones from the bag, I placed it to my left on the linen cloth. I drew another and laid it in the center. The next rune went to my right. Two more runes followed. I placed the fourth rune above the center and the fifth one below.

I studied the pattern of runes laid out before me: a Celtic cross. I began with the center rune—the second one I’d drawn. It would show me the present problem.

Hagalaz:haw-gaw-laws.

Hail, limitations, delays, circumstances beyond one’s control, not an opportune time for new beginnings.

I tapped my chin as I studied the rune.

Tink’s kidnapping had been beyond my control. I’d tried to protect her and failed. Not the time for new beginnings? The only new beginning that sprang to mind was the adoption. Was that what it meant? If so, what did the adoption have to do with Tink’s disappearance?

I moved to the first rune, the one to my left. It indicated what factors from the past were affecting the current problem.

Ansuz:awn-sooze.

Wisdom, advice from an older person, the spoken word.

Crud. It was inverted. Not a good sign. Inverted, the rune had the opposite meaning. Lies, trickery. Someone from the past was causing the situation I now faced through deception.

How far in the past? One week? Six months? A year? I ran over a list in my mind of people who had cause to wish ill upon my family. Hmm, the ones with the most compelling reasons either were in prison or confined to a state mental hospital like Juliet. And Bill hadn’t informed me of anyone’s release.