Red Witch: Book Two of the Wizard Born Series (29 page)

“Let’s head back,” Bryce said. “It’s almost dinner time.”

“Just a few more.” Jamie tucked the rest of the fliers under his arm and looked around for another place to put one.

“We’ve covered everything out this way. There’s not much past here.”

“There are a couple of businesses farther west.”

“Come on, Jamie. Lets’ go. We can do it tomorrow.”

“Are you coming back?”

“’Course I am. Rollie and Melanie are, too. They just texted me. Want me to pick you up in the morning? Say, around eight?”

Jamie nodded and they walked toward Jamie’s car, parked on the shoulder of the road. “Rollie’s gonna get up on a Saturday morning before eight o’clock?”

Bryce chuckled. “Yeah, I told him I gotta be at work by twelve.”

Jamie groaned and put his hand to his forehead. “Work! Dang, I forgot. I gotta be at the vet clinic by nine.”

“So does Rollie, remember? I think your boss will let you off this one time. He
is
your cousin, after all.”

“Yeah.” Jamie stopped and stared at the ground in front of him. “I’ll call somebody to cover for me and Rollie.” He continued to stand there, mouth squeezed tightly, until Bryce put his hand on Jamie’s shoulder.

“Listen, Buddy,” Bryce said. “I know it’s hard right now. It’s hard for all of us, so don’t feel like you’re alone.” Bryce cleared his throat. “We’re gonna help as much as we can.”

Jamie looked into his Bryce’s dark eyes and nodded, then looked away. “Thanks.” He started to walk toward his car again, but Bryce stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“I mean it, Jamie. We all miss her something awful. Life just isn’t the same without Fred bossin’ us around, tellin’ us what to do.”

Jamie had to laugh a little at that. Bryce said, “Now let’s head back before somebody gets worried and sends a search party after
us
.”

* * *

Rachel looked up from cutting vegetables at the kitchen counter to see Carl step through the door from the garage. She could tell from the look on his face that there was no good news about Fred. “Are you hungry?” she said.

He grunted as he hung his coat on a chair, then he dropped heavily on the one next to it and leaned his elbows on the table. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and said, “Tired.”

“You’re probably not getting enough sleep on the Callahan’s couch.”

“Well, that’s not going to be a problem any longer.” His face was grim as he looked at her.

That doesn’t sound good.
“Why?”

“Chief told me he’s pulling the other two detectives off the detail. He said we can keep the tracing equipment at the Callahan’s tonight, but he wants me to bring it back tomorrow morning.”

“What if the kidnappers call?”

“In most cases like this, they would’ve called already.”

“Oh.” They locked gazes but were both afraid to say what they knew it meant.

Carl took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a long moment. “Chief thinks it’s time to organize search parties and send them out to the national forest.”

“No! That’s like…that’s like admitting that’s she’s probably dead.”

“I know, and it’s almost Christmas Eve, too. I can’t tell Larry and Lisa we’re doing that. I just can’t.” He exhaled heavily. “I asked the Chief if we could wait until after Christmas.”

Rachel shook her head slowly. “Please don’t tell Lisa yet. I don’t know if she can take it. I’m worried about her, Carl, really worried. She’s not eating or sleeping…she’s wasting away. If we tell her about the search parties, she might lose it.”

“Larry’s not doing much better.”

Rachel looked away and put her hand to her face, eyes blurring with tears. Her voice quivered as she spoke. “This is going to be the worst Christmas ever. The worst anything ever.”

Carl got up and put his arms around her, and they stood that way for a long time.

* * *

Fred lay in bed listening to music; the only light in her room was from the small bedside lamp, its glow barely reaching the corners of the room. She sat up when she heard footsteps in the hall.

“Brought you something to eat,” Rita said as she walked in.

“It’s about time.” Fred turned down the volume on the boom box and sat on the edge of the bed.

Rita handed her a loaf of bread and a jar of peanut butter. “Here.”

“Ow, wow. You went all out. What am I supposed to spread the peanut butter with?”

Rita pulled a plastic knife from her pocket and handed it to Fred.

Fred eyed it and thought,
Well, I’ll never pick the lock with this.

Rita gestured at the bread. “I figured you can keep that in here in case you get hungry and we’re busy.”

“Oh, great. Thanks bunches,” she said sarcastically.

“You know, you should be a little more grateful. We give you —”

“Grateful?” Fred exploded. “You keep me chained to a bed, make me work for you like a slave, and all you feed me is Pop Tarts, peanut butter, and cheap microwave dinners.”

“You need to show more respect, young lady.”

“I’ll show you respect when you give me a reason to respect you.”

Rita’s eyes grew hard. She pulled the little white doll from her pocket, snatched the pin from its sash, and jabbed it into its arm.

“Ow!” Fred grabbed her elbow.

“That’ll give you something to respect.”

Fred gave her an angry glare, fierce as a sun that withers all black to gray. Rita held her gaze for a moment before looking away with a grunt. She turned and marched from the room, slamming the door behind her.

Fred watched her go.
God, I hate her. I hate Cassandra, too, but not as much as I hate her.
She picked up the plastic knife and inspected it.
No, I definitely can’t pick a lock with this. Not that I could pick one with a metal knife, either. Are these women giving me plastic utensils because they’re smart, or lazy?

Lazy.
Fred thought as she opened the jar of peanut butter
. Definitely lazy
.

* * *

Evelyn put on her turn signal and eased her car into the right lane. “Connie, let’s put some fliers up at this next exit.”

Connie stirred awake and blinked at the glare of the oncoming headlights. “Where are we?”

“We’re at the northern edge of Columbia.”

“South Carolina?” She removed her glasses and rubbed her eyes with the fingertips of one hand. “Can we make this the last stop? It’ll be midnight by the time we get home. Ray’s probably already back at the condo.”

“Just a few more.”

“Evelyn, please. I love Fred too, but I need to go to bed.”

“But what if we skip one and that was the one where someone had seen her?” She glanced at her sister, but the look on her face told her it was time to turn around. “Do you want to come with me tomorrow?”

“Where?”

“Maybe we can take I 40 toward Knoxville.”

“That’s where Ray went. And Gina and Cory are going to Greensboro tonight, putting up fliers along the way. Some other volunteers from church have taken all of the smaller roads. There’s not a rest stop or gas station within hours of here that doesn’t have a flier by now.”

“I feel like we should be doing more.”

“I know what you mean, Evelyn. It seems like if we’re out there doing
something
, then we’re bringing Fred home sooner.”

“If I wasn’t doing something to help, I’d be home, pacing the floor and calling Rachel every ten minutes.”

After a long pause, Connie put her hand on Evelyn’s arm. “This is the hardest thing we’ve ever been through.”

The weight of her words seemed to press heavily on her just then, and a sigh escaped her. “I know Connie. I know.”

Chapter 28

Fred lay on her right side, staring blankly at the bare wall, its cracks barely discernible in the dim morning light.

It’s Saturday,
she thought numbly.
The recital is in a few hours, and I won’t be there.
She pictured her awkward, adorable little students, tap dancing across the stage in their leotards and reindeer antlers, parents with their cellphones and cameras out, snapping cheerfully away.

Do they miss me? Did the parents even bother to tell the kids about me? Would they even understand if they knew?

She pictured Mathew’s sweet loving face, and a lump rose in her throat.
I sure miss them.

A tear trickled from the corner of her eye and disappeared into the bed sheet below.

* * *

Carl unplugged the last cable from the slim metal box while Larry sat at the end of the table, watching dully through hollow eyes.

Lisa stood in the kitchen doorway in her bath robe; she wore no makeup, her reddish-blonde hair was disheveled. “It’s because she’s dead, isn’t it Carl?”

“No, it doesn’t mean that.” He dropped the laptop into its zippered case. “The Chief doesn’t think —”

“She’s been kidnapped, raped, and murdered.” Her voice became shrill. “Why don’t you just come out and say it?”

“She’s not been murdered! Or raped, either.” Carl stopped what he was doing and took a deep breath, eyes closed. “I don’t know what’s happened to her, but she’s not dead.”

“Then why hasn’t she contacted Jamie in a dream? Huh? If she were alive, she would! She’s dead, Carl! Admit it!”

Not until I see proof, I won’t.
“I’m gonna find her, Lisa.”

“When, Carl?” Tears began trickling down her cheeks. “When?”

“Soon, Lisa. Be strong, okay.” He glanced at Larry, looking for help, but his eyes only mirrored Lisa’s hopelessness.

Carl gritted his teeth.
I won’t give up until I see her dead body. Until then, I’m giving this everything I have. I could never forgive myself if I didn’t.

* * *

Fred was still lying on her side when Rita and Cassandra came into her room.

“Rise and shine!” Cassandra sang.

“Go away,” Fred said to the wall.

“Don’t you want to do some witchcraft today?” Rita said.

“I hate you.”

“We’d thought we’d let you try making an amulet.”

“A what?” Fred rolled over on her back to see Rita setting up a folding table and Cassandra unfolding a couple of chairs.

“An amulet. Like this.” Rita held up the jade figure hanging at her neck.

“I though you said it takes a triad to make something like that.”

“Usually.” Rita sat on one of the chairs while Cassandra went out into the hall for the cardboard box of ingredients. “It takes more powerful magic to force the spell into an object like this, power that we only get when we’re linked up in a triad, but you seem to be pretty strong.” She watched Cassandra set the box on the table. “We want to see what you’re capable of.

Fred sat up and pointed at Rita’s necklace. “What does that little thing do, anyway?”

“It makes people kinda dumb and forgetful.”

Like you and Cassandra
, Fred almost said aloud, but caught herself when she saw the bulge in Rita’s dress pocket.
That’s probably the doll
.

“The faster I twirl it, the stronger the effect.”

“What’s to stop it from affecting you?” Fred asked.

Cassandra held out her arm. “These little bracelets. They’re counter charms.”

“I wondered why you were wearing such ugly jewelry.”

“They
are
ugly, aren’t they?” Cassandra held hers closer to her face and wrinkled her nose at it.

“This is what I used when we snatched you.” Rita gave the baby-shaped pendant around her neck a little flick with a fingernail. “In case your neighbors were watching. If they’d been looking out their windows and saw us, they wouldn’t remember a thing.”

Great. So if anybody saw me get snatched, they wouldn’t have been any help. Nobody knows where I am or who I’m with.

“We also used it at your school,” Cassandra said. “The ladies in the office didn’t want to tell us where you lived, but when Rita twirled that thing, they got
very
cooperative.”

Fred pictured the two witches marching up to the desk at the school office, twirling the pendant and demanding Fred’s personal information.
And nobody’s going to remember because of that little piece of jade.

Fred exhaled heavily and said, “All right then.” She rolled her legs over the side of the bed, the chain clanking on the floor. “What do I have to do?”

Cassandra handed her a spell book. “Turn to where the book mark is and look over the ingredients.”

Rita set a small cube-shaped metal contraption on the table. “This is a Sterno stove. You have to boil the potion after you mix it and immerse the amulet in it.” She showed Fred a brass peace symbol, about the size of a half dollar, attached to a thin leather thong. “We’ll try putting the charm in this old thing.” She handed Fred a small aluminum pan with a blackened bottom. “Put the powders in this instead of a bowl.”

Fred read the recipe aloud. “One tablespoon barberry root bark.”

“That doesn’t grind up very well. Just measure it out and dump it in the pan.”

Fred looked up from the book. “Am I supposed to be putting my inner self into the ingredients again?”

“Of course. I thought that was understood.”

“Just checking.” She looked hard at Cassandra. “It would help if you wouldn’t snap your gum.”

“Sorry.” Cassandra reached into her mouth and pulled out the sticky wad, then stuck it to the underside of the table.

“Gross!”

“I’ll get it later.”

Fred turned back to her task. She opened the small bag, closed her eyes and smelled the chipped wooden pieces inside, letting it fill her lungs as she emptied her mind.
I know you
, she thought.
I feel what you can do.
She opened her eyes and dumped it in the pan. Then she looked at the book again, opened on the table beside her. “Dried ironweed petals.”

Cassandra handed Fred the mortar and pestle. “Definitely grind that.”

Fred did, taking her time and letting the connections form again, the glowing gossamer strands of magic that ran from her and through her, in and out of the herbs before her. She measured and ground, measured and ground, going methodically down the list of substances from the book, the room silent except for the sound of the pestle mashing against the flakes in the mortar.