Leighann Dobbs - Mystic Notch 01 - Ghostly Paws (22 page)

He saw me looking down. “Yes, this is the cat I was taking to the vets. Do you believe me?”

I nodded. “But your family …”

Derek brushed his hand through his hair. “I didn’t want to believe one of them could be the killer, even though I had my doubts. But now, with that book and all … well, you can see why I rushed you out of the house the other day.”

“Sort of,” I said, still not sure what the Bates family was up to. Where they witches? And whose side was Derek on?
 

“I saw Carson sneak in with the book. I knew he had you downstairs. I was actually on my way down to let you out,” Derek frowned at me. “How
did
you get out, anyway?”

“Would you believe magic? But not the black kind. I picked the lock and your cat led me to this passage. So you’re not in on any of this with your family?” I still wasn’t sure I believed him, but I had to ask.

“No.” His face turned hard. “I’ve always been different. The black sheep of the family, so to speak. I tried to ignore their darker side—I suppose I love them in some way, but this thing with the book. I just can’t let them unleash evil on Mystic Notch.”

Unleash evil? That sounded bad. I was pretty sure I didn’t want that to happen either.

“Okay, what do you suggest we do?” Just a few hours ago, I thought Derek was the killer and now I was considering joining forces with him. I didn’t see that I had too many other choices.
 

“We need to get the book away from them. They think you are still locked up downstairs, so we have the element of surprise on our side.”

“And just how do you propose we utilize that?”

“I have an idea.” Derek glanced down the passage toward the library where we could still hear the soft hum of conversation. “Here’s what we’ll do.”

***

My nerves tingled with anticipation as I stood at the secret door, looking into the library through one of the gaps in the boards. It looked like I was seeing the room through a tunnel and I realized that my view was between two books—the door must have been cleverly built into one of the bookcases.

I shifted my position to relieve the pressure on my leg as well as to be able to get a better view of the book on the coffee table. Reminding myself to breathe, I placed my hand—the one that wasn’t burned—on the panel that would slide the door open while I waited for Derek to create the distraction that would allow me to slip into the room and steal the book.

Carson, Idris and Felicity were still discussing their dastardly plan of action, but I wasn’t listening. I was too intent on waiting for the perfect moment.

“Fire!” I heard Derek yell and saw him rush into the library, standing in the doorway and pointing excitedly into the hall. “The kitchen’s on fire! Everyone out!”
 

Carson ran out into the hall. Felicity sprang up from the couch and headed toward the door. Idris followed at a more dignified pace.

I pushed the panel, the door slid silently open and I stepped into the room, my eye trained on the book.

Idris had almost cleared the door when I was already halfway into the room. He must have remembered the book on the coffee table and he turned back toward it, his eyes growing wide when he saw me.

I ran for the book, noticing absently that a paperweight very similar to the one Elspeth had given me sat on the table beside it. Like my paperweight, this one glowed strangely, as if lit from inside.

Idris charged back into the room with surprising speed for a man his age.
 

A jolt of adrenalin surged through me—I knew I had to stop him. I grabbed the book and the paperweight, yelping as the paperweight seared my already burned fingers.
 

I aimed at Idris. Swinging the orb with all my might, I let go, watching in awe as electricity arced from my fingertips, circling the paperweight that exploded into a million pieces.

Kaboom!

My eyesight blurred. I felt the sensation of flying, then the weightlessness of falling. Hot air rushed past my face, then a bone jarring thud sent pain shooting through my body before everything went black.

Chapter Thirty-Two

A crushing weight on my chest made it hard to breathe and what little air I could get was tinged with smoke and the smell of charred wood. I opened my eyes, but it was dark. The debris I was pinned beneath made it impossible to move.

“Mew.”

I tried to call out, but my voice was muffled by the debris.

“Mew … mew … mew …” There was more than one cat out there. I found myself hoping they were good diggers as I tried in vain to push myself out of the pile of wood and stone I was buried in.

“Over here!”

Was that Striker?

I felt the pile shift and heard the noise of wood and stone being thrown aside. A shaft of daylight appeared and I turned my face to it, sucking in a lungful of clean air.
 

“Chance! Are you okay?” Striker’s concerned face came into view and I nodded.

A large black cat poked his face near mine as Striker continued to dig me out. A Siamese traced its rough tongue on my nose. An orange tomcat sat off to the side, sizing me up. Weren’t these Elspeth’s cats? How in the world had they gotten all the way down here?

“Willa!” Bing Thorndike came into view, his eyes ringed with compassion. “Thank God you’re okay.”

“Is anything broken?” Striker asked.

I tried out all my limbs, wiggling my fingers and toes. Everything seemed to work. In fact, I was surprised my leg wasn’t hurting more than it was. “I don’t think so.”

“Okay, hold on.” Striker grabbed under my arms and pulled me the rest of the way out.

“I’ll take the book and keep it safe for you,’ Bing said.

“Book?” I frowned in the direction Bing was looking and noticed I had an old book clutched to my chest. It looked familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it. I knew it was important. Looking up at Bing’s smiling face, I got the overwhelming feeling that giving him the book was the right thing to do.
 

I handed it over.
 

Bing took the book, holding it carefully, then gave me a knowing look and I felt like everything was all right even though I had no idea why.

“What happened?” Striker asked.

“I don’t remember.” My brows mashed together as I looked at the gaping hole in the side of the Bates mansion. There had been an explosion, obviously, but I didn’t remember what I had been doing here in the first place.
 

“Let’s get you checked out.” Striker grabbed my hand and it exploded in pain.
 

“Ouch!” I pulled my hand back turning it over to reveal blisters and raw skin.

Striker’s eyes clouded with concern, he reached for my hand again.
 

“Let me see.” He looked it over gently. “Looks like you got a bad burn. I’m going to take you over to the ambulance and get this bandaged.”

Putting his arm around me, Striker led me to the front of the house, which was loaded with police cars and an ambulance. I glanced back over my shoulder to where I’d been buried in the pile. It was out of sight of the main activity.

“How did you find me over there?” I wondered.

“The cats. I noticed a group of them and they were sniffing around the pile. That’s why I investigated. Then once I got close, I smelled the peppermint and knew it was you.”

My cheeks burned. Did the
Iced Fire
smell that strongly? I searched for the cats, but there were none in sight.
 

“Willa!” Augusta came running, her arms outstretched, enveloping me in a hug. After a few seconds she held me at arm’s length, inspecting me. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. I’m fine.” I looked over her shoulder where the Bates family was gathered near the front of the house, my stomach clenching as I remembered how I’d falsely accused Derek. “You’re not mad at me because of this morning—”

Then I remembered seeing the scratches on Carson’s arm and the ring. I grabbed Augusta’s arm. “Carson is the killer!”

“I know, that’s why we came.” Augusta looked back at the Bates family and I could see an officer approaching them. “After you accused Derek it gave me some ideas. I took a look at the clues and realized you had the right family, but wrong brother.”

“He was at the shop this morning.” I wrinkled my forehead in concentration. “I don’t remember much … but he had the claw marks on his arm so he must have been the one that broke into my house!”

“I know.” Augusta pulled the handcuffs from the back of her uniform. “Don’t worry, we have enough evidence on him to get him for the break-in and Lavinia’s murder.”

Augusta turned and walked away just as Striker put something that stung on my hand.
 

“Ouch.” I pulled away.

“This will help the burn.” He pulled my hand back toward him, gently swabbing it with ointment, despite my protests.

“What were you doing up here, anyway?” he asked.

“That’s a good question.” I chewed my bottom lip. Why
had
I been here? “All I remember is that Carson came to the shop this morning. I saw the scratches on his arm and he was wearing a navy blue coat. But the rest is fuzzy. I might have been bringing them that book.”

Striker’s eyes clouded with concern.
 

“You don’t remember? Did you hit your head?” He started feeling around my head. “Does this hurt?”

“No.”

“I don’t feel any bumps, but it’s strange you don’t remember. Maybe the trauma of the explosion.” He looked at the house and then back to me. “What was that book, anyway?”

“I thought it was some old family book. I found it in a box with an old Bates’ family photo album.”

“So then, why did Bing take it?”

“Good question,” I looked around for Bing, but he was gone. “I guess I was mistaken about it being from the Bates collection.”

Over near the house, I could see Augusta putting the cuffs on Carson. He looked angry. Felicity was crying. Derek stood off to the side. Idris leaned on his cane, the picture of frailty … except something niggled at me that he was anything but frail.

Striker turned me toward him. “You don’t have to worry about them. Carson’s going to jail. He’s been unstable for a long time.”

I thought about that. It was true he was a little strange when we were younger, but since I’d been in Massachusetts until recently, I didn’t really know what he’d been up to all these years.

I watched Striker wrap a large gauze bandage on my hand. His gentle motions made my heart flutter. He secured the bandage, then put his hands on my shoulders.

“I hope you’ve learned not to get involved in any more investigations, or at the very least to not go off on your own.” He looked over my shoulder at the gaping hole in the side of the Bates mansion. “As you can see, it can be very dangerous.”

His gray eyes locked back on mine and I felt a flood of warmth at the genuine concern in them.
 

I nodded.

“Good. Well, I’m just glad you’re okay,” he said, leaning in toward me and kissing me on the lips.

My pulse skittered and my stomach flip-flopped, but this time I didn’t throw up on his shoes.

Chapter Thirty-Three

I stood on the sidewalk in front of the bookstore. Pandora, who I’d picked up from the animal hospital on my way to work, lay in my arms. She must have missed me, because she was letting me hold her while she purred contentedly.

Doc Evans had assured me she would be fine with no permanent ill effects other than the kink in her tail, which she slapped against my arm lazily.
 

I looked up at the bright sun and closed my eyes. The storm system that had brought all the rain had moved out of the mountains and the next few days promised to be the sunny and warm New Hampshire spring days that I loved. Even the birds were encouraged, as was evidenced by their lively twittering in the bud-laden trees.

Since it was so nice, I was having the morning
tête-a-tête
with Bing, Josiah, Cordelia and Hattie outside instead of on the purple couches in my shop.

“Thank goodness you weren’t hurt, Willa,” Cordelia said as she reached over to stroke Pandora’s head.

“Yes, that was a freak accident,” Josiah added. “I mean, the gas explosion. Blew the front side of the Bates mansion clear off.”

“Gas explosion?” I wrinkled my forehead at Josiah.

“Yeah, that’s what blew the side off the Bates mansion. Well, you should know, you were there.” Josiah studied me, rubbing his chin. “Why
were
you there, Willa?”

“Good question,” I said.

Bing gave me a knowing look and I felt like we shared a secret about that morning. Too bad I didn’t remember what it was.

“I don’t know how you got caught in the rubble.” Hattie sipped her coffee. “But it’s a good thing you weren’t actually inside the house—you could have been killed.”

I smiled and nodded. Inside the house? Why did I feel like I might have been in there? I shook my head—my memory of the day was still fuzzy and the truth was I had no idea where I was when the explosion happened.

“It’s such a shame about Carson,” Hattie said. “Felicity is crushed.”

“She’s kind of an odd one, don’t you think, sister?” Cordelia asked Hattie.

“They’re all odd, if you ask me,” Josiah said. “But at least Willa was on the right track.”

“Yeah, but I still don’t get it.
Why
did Carson kill Lavinia?” Cordelia asked.

“Well, you know that boy’s always been a little funny.” Josiah tapped the side of his head. “From what I understand, Felicity sold some family books and he got it in his head they were in the library.”

“Yeah, but why not just ask Lavinia? He didn’t have to
kill
her,” Hattie took a sip of coffee.

“Like I said, the boy ain’t right,” Josiah answered. “Rumor is that he claims he’s innocent, even though the police have ample evidence. They say he was in the library looking for those old family books and Lavinia surprised him and he killed her. I hear he denies it, though.”

“So, if Lavinia hadn’t been in town early that day, she’d still be alive,” Hattie mused.

My stomach crunched and I snuggled Pandora closer despite her protesting meow … Lavinia had been killed because of her dedication to the feral cats.