Opal Fire (20 page)

CHAPTER 26

I blinked twice, just to make sure I was still alive.

Kirk’s hands were no longer roped around my neck. My head felt like a hundred pounds as I peeled it off the hard oak.

The Mayor stood in the doorframe, a gun in his hand. “You all right, Miss Justice?”

“Yes. I think so.” I rubbed my neck and inhaled all the air I could.

From the amount of blood oozing from his head, I suspected Kirk wasn’t going to make his cruise.

“Cinnamon? Cin,” I croaked.

She gave no response.

I ran around the bar to find my cousin, my best friend, motionless on the floor, a liquid red fanning out from her hair. Either she fell on a shard of glass, which still lay everywhere from the fire, or a bullet hit her.

“Oh my God. Cinnamon!” I dropped to my knees, panic elevating my heartbeat.

“Don’t touch her! Go call for help.” The Mayor rushed forward as I dashed back behind the bar and reached for the phone, reciting under my breath the lesson I had read that afternoon about calling forth the spirit guides from the Blessed Book.

“To all who have gone before, once loved, now lost, heed my call.”

I picked up the receiver.

“Spirits of the Summerland, one and all.”

There was no dial tone.

My voice grew in intensity. “To those that left us too soon and lost souls of the departed.”

I clicked the receiver a few times, my voice getting louder. “The Watchtowers come forth, help me finish what I started.”

“Put the phone down, Miss Justice,” the Mayor said. “It appears to not be working.”

I hung up and said, “Do you have a cell phone?”

When I turned, I was staring into the barrel of a gun.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

He had flipped over both photographs. His hand was on the photograph of Leo. That’s when I noticed it was cut too. And the pair seemed to fit together as if it had been one photo, cut in two.

The Mayor’s face twitched for a moment, then relaxed.

The photos fit together, but that was a much younger Kirk and Leo looked to be the same age.

But how was that possible. Unless…

God, how could I have been so stupid!

Before he even said it, I knew.

“You thought that was Leo in the photograph, didn’t you?”

Shit. They really looked eerily alike.

He laughed.

“It’s not that funny,” I said.

“Well, it is, but no matter. You would have looked at it in a better light and realized that it was me in that old picture. I noticed the necklace around your neck when you popped into my nephew’s office. I thought you might connect the dots sooner or later.” He clicked his tongue. “So where did you find it? I looked all over for it when Kirk said he had lost his.”

I didn’t answer him. Instead I said, “Please, Cinnamon is hurt. She had no part in this, I promise you. You can’t just let my cousin lay there and die.”

“I’ll call for help as soon as I take care of you.”

That was less than comforting.

“Like you took care of Kathy?”

“I made Kathy happy. But she got greedy. Careless.”

“So you killed her.”

“It was an accident.”

“Sure it was. That’s what you told your friend, wasn’t it? That’s how you got Kirk to agree to help you.”

The Mayor smiled at me with disgust. “A partner would do anything for a fellow officer. Men are like that.”

Partner? Kirk was the Mayor’s partner on the force?

“Watchtowers of the north, come forth...” I said.

“Stop that. No one can help you now, Miss Justice. Although I must admit, I’ve tried every method of scaring you into submission. But nothing frightens you.”

“Actually, that gun in your hand has me a little jumpy.”

“Really?”

I nodded.

The Mayor made a
tsk tsk
sound. “You should have just taken that trip. I knew Kirk wouldn’t need the ticket.”

“I freckle.”

The Mayor frowned. “And what was it you told my nephew? You couldn’t just walk away?”

“That too.”

“Yes, Kathy had the same attitude. Didn’t get her far, did it?”

“Watchtowers of the south, come out,” I said.

“Okay, that’s giving me a headache, now.”

“Watchtowers of the east, come meet.”

“You honestly think this chanting will save you?”

It was worth a shot.

“Come out from behind that bar,” he said.

“No way, you fucking psycho.”

The Mayor’s jaw went hard. “Fine. I’ll shoot you where you stand.”

“And how will you explain that?”

He thought a minute. “My good friend Kirk pulled the trigger on you, then turned the gun on himself. The guilt was too much.”

I considered the angle of the trajectory and where Kirk had been hit. That might actually work.

“That won’t work,” I said.

“Of course it will.”

“Watchtowers of the west, confess.”

“I have had enough of you.”

The Mayor cocked the gun and I yanked the soda gun out and fired a stream of coke in his face. It threw his balance off and landed square in his eye. Then the liquid slowed and trickled to a halt. I looked at the handle. Damn! There must have been only a little left in the hose. The fire fighters probably disconnected the CO2.

“God dammit!” The Mayor said as he wiped his face. He aimed at me again. This time, I knew he wouldn’t miss. I hunted for something to throw at him but a lot of the bottles were already smashed.

My fingers found a mixing tin and I fired that off. It bounced off his chest as he squeezed off another shot. I bobbed and weaved, but the bullet punctured my shoulder, ripping my flesh. I scrambled for more ammunition as the Mayor positioned for a clean shot. I tossed everything I could get my hands on. Napkin holder. Straws. Salt and pepper shakers. Pour spouts. My last hope was a giant jar of brandied cherries at the end of the bar.

Before I could nail him with it, the Mayor turned his gun away from me.

I stopped. I knew what he was pointing at.

“She can live. Or she can die,” he said casually.

Cinnamon.

CHAPTER 27

My arms were jelly as I set the fruit down.

“Good choice. Come out from behind there,” he said.

When faced with the knowledge that your life will soon end, you either move incredibly slow or maniac fast. My legs carried me as if they’d been on the job for ninety years.

The Mayor was considering his options. I already had one wound. Which was throbbing at that point. He would have to kill me carefully to construct a believable story.

For Cinnamon’s sake, I hoped he got it right.

I waited for instruction.

“Move to the left of Kirk.”

I did. Where were my spirit guides?

“No.” He waved the gun. “Over there.”

Again, I followed directions. Did I miss something? Didn’t I cast the spell correctly?

“Yes. That’s it.”

The Goddess. I forgot to call the Goddess.

“By the power of Brighid, I release thee!” I said.

“Too late,” said the Mayor.

He pointed the gun at my head.

I closed my eyes.

Nothing happened.

He drew a breath. “K…Kathy?” I heard him say.

I opened one eye. The Mayor was staring over my head into the mirror behind me, transfixed on something.

He was distracted enough for me take a split second to crash a bar stool into his skull. The gun flew from his hand, firing a phantom shot in the air before skating beneath the old jukebox.

I belly flopped toward it and crammed my torn arm underneath, but I couldn’t see the weapon. I felt frantically for it. Then I remembered there was a crowbar nearby.

Flopping like a fish, I tried to wiggle free, but the hole in my shirt was snagged onto something and it wouldn’t let go.

Behind me, something made a sound.

I snuck a peek. His face bloody, the Mayor was towering over me, crowbar high above his head.

I flipped over, my arm still lodged, and I saw him bring it down. A sickening thud echoed in my ear as pain ripped through my shoulder. Again.

I thrashed in place, my arm clearly not cooperating, still conjoined to some unidentifiable piece of the jukebox. The second blow came and sliced through my jeans. The cut was deep and blood gushed from it immediately. Before I could worry about the damage, I helicoptered my legs around and landed one good roundhouse kick, taking the Mayor’s feet out from under him. He landed on his back. Hard.

For a second, I was sure he had broken it, thanks to the crunching sound that punctuated his fall.

Then I looked up.

The overhead beam had split wide. The last bolt dangled, hardly holding the huge, gothic chandelier with the pointy spikes.

Apparently the gunshot had made a direct hit.

The Mayor was gasping for air, the wind knocked from him, it seemed.

And behind him, a moonbeam reflecting off her head like a halo, stood Kathy in her pink sweater and poodle skirt, a scarf neatly tied around her neck. She smiled at me, then looked at her former lover and shook her head, haunting eyes revealing a trace of peace.

I looked away before the fixture plummeted, impaling the Mayor. I heard him scream in agony before I squeezed my eyes shut.

CHAPTER 28

The essential oils of lavender and myrrh coaxed me awake. Lolly was working on my leg, which burned like hell. Her copper head bobbed up and down like a buoy. Birdie leaned over me, adjusting something, her shawl feathered around her shoulders. She stopped and looked at me. My head felt heavy as the stark white of the room penetrated my eyes.

“Welcome back, Anastasia,” Birdie said.

“Hi,” I croaked. My mouth was dry.

Behind Birdie, Fiona was arranging flowers, her face painted to perfection. “Oh, sweetheart, thank Brighid, you’re all right,” she said.

Something was off. No capes. No lectures on how I am not fit to be a witch. My pulse quickened a bit and I heard a machine beep.

“Lolly, the frankincense.” Lolly produced a small brown bottle and Birdie waved it under my nose.

“Stop it, Birdie. That stuff stinks.” The machine stopped beeping.

“Well, I want you to stay calm. Can’t have those nurses poking their heads in while we work on you.”

A hospital. I was in a hospital.

“That’s right and you’re going to be just fine,” Lolly said.

How did she do that? I didn’t say that out loud, did I?

“Cinnamon,” I said and sat up, crystals raining around me.

Birdie pushed me back down. “She’s fine, Anastasia. A mere flesh wound where the bullet grazed her skull. She just needed a little cleaning up and a few stitches.”

I smiled at that, thanking the spirits.

“And Mr. Huckleberry is going to help her rebuild the Black Opal,” Fiona informed me.

“Now just lie still and let the crystals work,” Birdie said. One by one, she picked them up and put them back on my head, a crown of smooth rocks.

“So, what’s wrong with me?” I asked. My arm was stiff and I felt like I was wearing a baseball mitt.

Birdie’s bracelets jingled as she folded her hands in her lap. “You’re right wrist is sprained and the bullet was removed from your shoulder. The gash on your left leg cut to the bone, but that will heal nicely thanks to your aunt Lolly.”

“What time is it?”

“It’s nearly eight o’clock on Tuesday.”

“What? I’ve been out for a whole day?” That was impossible. How could I have slept that long? “Thor...”

“Taken care of,” Birdie dismissed my concern with a sweep of her arm.

Lolly smiled and I caught a whiff of Jameson.

“These beautiful roses are from Leo,” Fiona said, cupping the flower heads. Then she moved to the window. “This arrangement is from Chance.” She winked. “And of course there are plants from the office and cards and letters from half the town over here.” She motioned to a counter beneath the window. “Would you like me to read you Leo’s note?”

“No, thank you.”

“Now, shall we talk about the lessons you’ve learned?” Birdie said, getting down to business.

“I’ll pass on that too, Birdie.”

“Nonsense.” She waited.

I drew in a deep breath and thought about the events that had transpired over the last four days. The fire. The murders. Poor Kathy, buried in darkness for all those years.

And then she came to my rescue.

Birdie tapped my knee. “Well?”

“A picture is worth a thousand words,” I said. I would have figured it all out sooner, had I known that photo was on the wall. Well, maybe.

Birdie pursed her lips. She motioned to Lolly.

Lolly reached behind her and pulled out the Blessed Book. She handed it to Birdie who placed it on the cart next to my bed.

“Trust in your power. The rest will come,” Birdie said and patted the cover.

There was a knock at the door and Leo poked his head in. “Is it okay?” he asked to no one in particular.

Birdie rose, walked to the door and whispered something in Leo’s ear. He looked at her briefly, then nodded and smiled at Fiona and Lolly. The three of them waltzed from the room and Leo stepped in.

His leather jacket was open, a white shirt off-setting his olive skin. I watched as he chose a chair near the foot of the bed. He clasped, then unclasped his hands. He crossed his legs. He uncrossed them. Then he stood and faced the window.

Geez, did I look that bad? I smoothed my hair out.

“Stacy, I’m so sorry. About everything.” His voice was hoarse, but his shoulders were solid and the view reminded me of why I had fallen for him in the first place. A heat trailed up my toes and through my legs.

I didn’t say anything, because I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to say. Relationships were not my area of expertise.

He reached into his pocket for something and held it in his hands, still facing the window.

“I feel like my heart’s been ripped out. What my uncle did...it’s…unbelievable.” He shook his head. “I guess you know now the cruise wasn’t my idea. He had me convinced that something terrible would happen to you. I can’t believe I didn’t see what he was doing. For that, I will always be sorry.” He swore softly.

That’s why he was sorry? I was expecting this conversation to go a little differently. Like, sorry I didn’t believe in you, Stacy. I’m a schmuck and you deserve better.

I sighed. I thought about the conversation with Birdie at the inn, the fact that the women in my family seem destined to remain single, and how Leo’s eye twitches every time magic is mentioned. If I were to continue on this path, Leo couldn’t be a part of it.

But this wasn’t the time to tell him that.

“It wasn’t your fault, Leo. You couldn’t have known.” Then I thought of something else. “Did you find Kathy?”

“Her body was stuffed in a freezer in my uncle’s garage along with a string of love letters. They’re searching his place for evidence now. The theory we have is that Eddie and Kirk helped him bury the body in the wall and that’s why he killed them. Only they could link him to her. Mr. Huckleberry had hired Eddie at one time to stabilize the foundation. Eddie suggested that he rebuild the entire wall instead. We figured that was when they buried her there. The dates match up to Kathy’s disappearance. We won’t know for sure until we do some more investigating, but those were good guys. They couldn’t have known her death was intentional.”

He pulled an envelope from his pocket. “I didn’t understand...things, Stacy, I know that now, but I think I’m starting to. I want to anyway.”

He crossed to me and put the envelope on the nightstand. Then he looked at me for the first time, so much emotion in his eyes that my heart cracked.

He cocked his head. “What’s in your hair?”

I felt the crown of my head and bumped into the crystals Birdie put there. I pulled them out, one by one and examined them.

Gemstones have spiritual properties as well as healing capabilities, so I gave Leo his first lesson in magic. “Amethyst, for rest, argonite, to heal bones, bloodstone, for wound repair.” Bloodstone- the warrior stone and a symbol of justice, Birdie once told me.

Leo smiled. “Guess I have a lot to learn.”

He leaned over the bed and softly kissed me. “Get some rest. If you decide you want to try again, you know where to find me.”

My gaze followed as he started for the door. I ached to call him back.

Leo stopped and turned around. “Stacy?”

I waited, hoping he wouldn’t say what he looked like he wanted to say. He didn’t have to. I could feel it.

His lips parted, then paused. “Get better.”

A knot formed in my throat and I rolled onto my side. The door clicked and he was gone.

After a moment, I reached for the envelope.

Inside were two tickets to Ireland and a brochure of a castle. Leo’s note read:
I’ve heard this place is magical. I thought you two should meet and I wanted to be the one to introduce you.

I smiled and sunk into sleep, dreaming of ivy blanketed countryside, lapping waves, and knights in leather armor.

But dreams, as I have learned, can be deceiving.

I left the hospital the next evening with my arm in a sling, Vicodin, crutches, my book, and the crystals.

Gramps drove me home safely and I begged him to tell Birdie and the aunts that I wasn’t up for dinner or company. I just wanted to snuggle with my dog, read a book, and eat macaroni and cheese.

Thor acted like he hadn’t seen me in a month as Gramps set my things on the counter. He hopped around me, nuzzling my free hand and talking in that way that Great Danes do. I kissed his big nose and he wiggled.

Gramps hugged me gingerly and told me to call if I needed anything. Then he left.

In the living room sat a box filled with things from my office that Derek had delivered while I was in the hospital. His note read:
Parker thought you’d be more comfortable working at home until you recover. Take some time off. Call when you can.

The note was taped to the three muses sword that I threatened Derek with earlier in the week. I laughed at the recollection and propped it against the counter. Maybe Cinnamon would help me hang it up later.

I set about organizing my desk. Plugged in my laptop, sorted through files, tossed office supplies in the top drawer. Then I put the Blessed Book next to all of it and fumbled with the bloodstone.

I supposed I would have to build my own supply kit if I was going to start practicing the craft. Candles, oil, stones, a scrying mirror. I needed the whole shebang. Then perhaps, my own spells would find their way between the pages of the Blessed Book. Maybe I would finally become a Geraghty Girl.

The thought made me shiver. I wasn’t sure if that was what I truly wanted, but I owed it to myself to find out.

Thor scratched at the front door, telling me he had to go out and I hobbled over to open it. The leg didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would, so I doubted I would use the crutches much. The real bitch was carrying my arm in a sling. How was I going to work? Dress? Pee?

I shuffled into the bathroom, clipped my hair up and crawled into sweatpants. I took a long hard look at the mirror that had disrupted my life. Thankfully, it had no messages for me today except that I was tired. A yawn escaped and I went in search of food.

While I was in the hospital, Chance had replaced the glass in the backdoor window and Gramps had ordered me a new refrigerator. It was a sleek stainless model that I could never afford. I didn’t like to take advantage of his wealth and generosity, but I needed a refrigerator and he needed to pamper someone so it was a win-win.

I snagged an apple from the counter and bit into it. Then I went to check Chance’s handiwork. As usual, it looked great. I walked toward the backdoor, marveling at my fortune of knowing such talented people.

Then I halted.

When trouble comes knocking, most of us ignore the signs. I have been guilty of it myself more times than I care to count. In hindsight, people will often admit that yes, their creepy neighbor seemed a bit off, or the minute they walked down the alley, they knew it was a mistake.

But right then—after all that had happened—I knew when I saw the spider web I had an uninvited guest.

An intruder.

I swear to the gods, if my bedroom saw as much action as the backdoor of my cottage, I would be a much happier woman.

The door was locked, so I didn’t bother trying to figure out how someone could have gotten inside. The question was who?

And more importantly- when?

Was someone here now? I centered myself, drawing on the power within me, but the Vicodin cast a haze over my intuition and my senses were duller than usual.

I took a deep breath. No chills. No nausea. Just...fuzz. A buzzing in my ear like a bell.

I picked up the sword, not taking any chances.

Chance. Maybe that was it. Chance wasn’t invited to fix the window. He just did it.

Or maybe the painkillers were causing hallucinations.

The cottage was calm. Thor was outside. I was safe.

I limped over to the window, the sword my cane, and watched my dog romp in the yard. I stood there, letting the tension slip away, peace take over. It felt good. My lungs filled with air and I let my eyes slide shut.

When I opened them, a face flashed in the bay window.

Only it wasn’t outside.

It was behind me.

And it wore a mustache.