Authors: Geof Johnson
She nodded.
Momma Sue brushed her hands together and turned to Jamie. “We’re finished here. Can you make a doorway back to my house for me and Bella? We have things to do.”
“Certainly.” He drew the glowing outlines and pushed it open as the councilmen stared, open-mouthed.
The old witches stepped through and Fred said, “Me and Nova, too. I gotta go to work and she’s gotta go home.”
Jamie made two more portals, and when the girls left, he found himself alone with the councilmen, who still stood by their chairs with dazed looks on their faces. Jamie shrugged and waved, “Well, gotta go. Have a nice day.” Then he translocated back to the school.
* * *
Duane Gundy attached the magnetic sign to the side of the white van. “Acme Services,” he said to himself and nodded approvingly. “Looks legit.” Then he peeled it off and put the other one in its place and read it aloud. “North Carolina Department of Child Services.” He nodded again. “I’m gonna look official, now.”
And I can finally go out and search for Sammi again
.
An hour later he was back on Applewood Drive, wearing his suit, a clipboard in one hand and his new fake ID badge hanging from a lanyard around his neck.
I’m a government worker. Nobody’ll think twice when they see me
.
Now he could check every house on every street in town that ended in
wood
, door-to-door, until he finally found Sammi.
Process of elimination. That’s all it takes
.
He walked up the steps of the first house and quickly rehearsed his front-porch speech one more time for good measure. Then he confidently pressed the doorbell and waited.
* * *
Duane Gundy was working on his seventh neighborhood of the day. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d seen a police car, but just one had stopped to talk to him, and then only to ask if he’d seen a silver Camry.
It was late afternoon, his feet hurt from wearing his black leather dress shoes, and he was hot and tired and hungry.
Just one more street and I’ll go get some supper
, he thought as he turned onto Pinewood Drive and parked on the side of the road.
Even though it was still warm, he put on his suit jacket and straightened his tie before stepping out of the van. The clipboard he carried had six pages full of checked-off house numbers, and he was steadily eliminating places where Sammi wasn’t hiding.
The fourth house he came to was a modest, single-story brick home with a neat flowerbed by the walkway, full of yellow and red blooms. He rang the doorbell and an older woman answered, white-haired, with age-spotted hands and a bony, prim face.
“Hello,” he said pleasantly and began his well-practiced lines. “I’m Michael Baxter with the Department of Child Services.” He pointed to the laminated badge hanging from his neck. “We’re looking for a runaway girl named Sammi Price, about seven years old, with black hair about down to here.” He touched a spot on his arm just below his shoulder. “We have reason to believe she’s in this area. Have you seen anyone meeting that description?”
The woman scrutinized his badge for a moment with one hand pressed to her chest. “Well, I’ve seen a bunch of young children at that house down there.” She pointed at a two-story brick home down the street on the other side of the road. “A couple of times at least. And it’s the oddest thing, because their son is almost fully grown, now. He drives that new blue Chevrolet that’s in the driveway. I heard he bought it himself with the money he makes from working at the veterinarian clinic. He’s a good boy, and he does volunteer work all the time and he —”
“Yes ma’am, I get the picture.”
This lady must be the neighborhood busybody
. “But getting back to the kids. Has your husband seen them, too?”
“Oh, Mr. Wysoki passed away some years ago. I’m a widow.” She pointed down the street again. “But that family over there, the Sikes, they used to have young ones in and out all the time over there, but not anymore. That’s why it struck me as strange that they should have those children coming and going now.”
“Did any of them have long dark hair and big brown eyes?”
“Um...one of them did, but her hair was shorter, just down to her chin. I’ve seen her more than any of them.”
That could be Sammi
. He felt his heart begin to beat faster
. She could have cut her hair
. “Was she cute?”
“She’s adorable. They all were, but not like her. She really catches your eye.”
That’s got to be her
.
“But I don’t think the family that lives there would harbor a runaway,” the old woman continued. “The husband is a policeman and the wife is a teacher, and they go to church every Sunday.”
Damn!
Gundy turned to look at the house down the street again.
Sammi’s stayin’ with a cop. No wonder she’s been so hard to find
.
“I hope I’ve been some help to you, Mr. Baxter.”
“What?” He cleared his throat and nodded. “Yes, Mrs. Wysoki, very helpful.” He gave her a polite wave. “Thank you for your time.”
She closed the door and he stood on the stoop for a moment, rubbing his chin and regarding the two-story house with the blue Chevy in the driveway.
That’s where she is. I’m sure of it. But a cop! Damn. That complicates things. I’ll have to be careful when Igrab her
.
He returned to his van, took off his coat and tie, rolled up his sleeves and started the engine. Then he cranked the air conditioner to maximum and sagged in the driver’s seat as the blissfully cool breeze blew over his sweaty chest and arms.
He eyed the house down the street and considered his next move.
I’ll watch ’em ’till Sammi shows up. She’s bound to, sooner or later. She likes to play outside. Then I’ll just drive by and snatch her up, and get the hell out of here
.
By nightfall, though, he hadn’t seen any activity at the house at all, except when a young man with curly blond hair walked out of the front door and went to the home catty-cornered across the street.
Gundy was tired and hungry, and his bladder was about to burst. He finally gave up, turned the van around and headed back to his hotel. He decided against returning that evening because he knew he would look suspicious.
Especially with that busybody widow living on that street.I’ll come back first thing in the morning with a different disguise. Then I’ll watch all day if I have to. I’ll bring a sandwich and some water, and maybe even a pot to piss in
.
Sammi won’t get away now
.
* * *
That night at dinner, after he returned from Fred’s house, Jamie told his father about his morning with the Rivershire councilmen.
“Are you sure it worked?” Carl said. “You don’t think they’ll interfere with you now?”
Jamie shook his head. “That was some powerful magic, that circle we made with Momma Sue and Mrs. Malley. Never done anything like
that
before, and I don’t think Eddan did, either. It felt more compelling than the other oaths I’ve been part of. I’m sure those guys won’t meddle anymore.”
Rachel served herself some mashed potatoes and nodded. “Miss Duffy was certainly relieved to hear the news. She acted like a big weight had been lifted from her shoulders, and she immediately apologized to Mr. Winston. She seems like a totally different person. I think the atmosphere at the school will be much more pleasant from now on.”
“Good,” Carl said. “I finally have some news to report about Mr. Gundy. I’ve been reviewing video footage that we got from the local hotels, the view from their lobby cameras. I finally saw Gundy on one, when he was at the Ramada last Sunday night, around 9:00. You can clearly see him at the desk, trying to check in. But they didn’t have any vacancies, so he left.”
“Do you think he’s at some other hotel?” Rachel asked.
Carl shrugged. “Could be, but I don’t think he’s at one of the closer ones. He might be at one of the smaller, mom-and-pop places, but there are dozens of those, and they’re scattered all over the place. Or, he could be camping, instead. I called my buddy Hank at the Park Service, and they’re checking the local campsites.”
“Nobody’s seen Gundy’s car?” Jamie asked.
“We’ve pulled over several silver Camrys, but he wasn’t in any of them. He may have ditched it and gotten a different vehicle, for all we know. He seems to have a penchant for muscle cars, so we’ll be looking for him in those, too.”
“Have you told Lisa and Larry about any of this, yet?” Rachel asked.
“I’m going to wait until Sammi takes a bath. I don’t want to scare her.”
“I think I should stay over at the Callahan’s again tonight,” Jamie said with a frown. “Though I don’t get much sleep on that air mattress in their living room, and Mr. and Mrs. Callahan will probably wake me up before dawn. But that’s okay, ’cause tomorrow I have to go to work really early to cover for one of the other guys.”
“How are we going to get to the school if you aren’t here to make a doorway for us?” Rachel asked.
“You’re going to use the one at John Paul’s house,” Carl said. “He gave me a spare set of keys to his front door and to the magic portal in his basement.”
“Has Fred put a hex on it yet?” Rachel asked.
“No,” Jamie said. “She hasn’t been able to get over there when John Paul’s home ’cause he’s been working so much lately. But the portal’s protected by a solid wood door with a good dead bolt on it, so I think we’ll be okay. I can’t imagine Gundy being able to find it or get through it.”
“Just be on the lookout for a silver Camry when you drive over there, Rachel,” Carl said. “Or any other car that looks suspicious.”
“And make sure everybody has their Stupefyin’ pendants,” Jamie added.
* * *
Fred jerked awake when she heard Sammi cry out. “What is it, Sammi?”
“I had a bad dream,” she said pitifully.
Fred reached across the bed and rubbed Sammi’s arm gently. “Well, it’s over now. Want to tell me about it?”
“I dreamed I was little and I was hiding in a mouse hole, and I had to get out for some reason. But there was a big cat on the other side, and...I don’t know how I knew it was there, but it was. And I finally ran out of the hole and I heard it hiss at me and it was huge, and it had big fangs and it swung its giant paw at me and I screamed. Then I woke up.”
“It sounded more like a moan, but you’re okay now. I think you must’ve dreamed that because my mom called you her
little kitty
tonight when you were snuggling with her on the couch.”
“Don’t feel like a kitty. I feel more like a mouse. Mr. Gundy’s out there and he’s just waiting for me to go out of my mouse hole so he can get me.”
“You don’t know that for sure.”
“Unh hunh. Mr. Sikes saw him on a video.”
“Who told you that?” Sammi didn’t answer, and Fred frowned at her. “Were you listening when he came over a while ago?”
“No. I heard him today with my magic, when he was driving in his truck and talking on his cell phone.”
“You’re not supposed to do that.”
“Couldn’t help it,” she mumbled.
“Um, by any chance, have you heard anything from Mr. Gundy lately?”
“Just a couple of little things, but they didn’t make any sense so I didn’t tell anybody.”
“Oh boy.” Fred sighed and rolled onto her back. “Well, try to relax and get some sleep. I’m right here and Jamie’s downstairs, so you’re safe.”
Sammi nodded, but Fred wasn’t sure if Sammi was convinced.
Chapter 28
Duane Gundy returned to Pinewood Drive early the next morning with everything he needed for a sustained vigil: two ham sandwiches, a gallon jug of water, and a pot from the kitchenette from his hotel room. On the way there he’d stopped at a road construction site and stolen a couple of orange plastic cones.
He was using a different disguise. The van now sported the Acme Services signs on each side, and he wore his gray coveralls and yellow hard hat. With his aviator sunglasses on, he was certain that no one in the neighborhood would recognize him from the day before.
Especially that busybody old lady, Mrs. Wysoki. Bet she’s lookin’ out her front window right now
. He made it a point to park where she couldn’t see him, but he had a clear view of the house where he suspected Sammi was hiding. He placed an orange cone at each end of the van and settled in to watch.
The sun was just clearing the horizon, and as the neighbors drove by on their way to work, he kept his head down and pretended to be studying something on his clipboard, but behind his dark glasses he was carefully eying each car to see if Sammi was in it.
The blue Chevy was already gone from the driveway of the cop’s house by the time Gundy arrived. Around seven thirty, a red pickup truck backed out of the garage and drove away, but Sammi wasn’t in it, just a grown man with short brown hair.
Must be the cop. Looks like one
.
An hour later, a woman hopped down the front steps and walked to the house catty-corned across the street, alone, and went inside when someone opened the door for her.
So where the hell’s Sammi? Did they leave her by herself? That would be too easy
.
Then a late-model Buick, driven by an older woman, pulled into the driveway of the same house the other woman had just entered. The driver tooted the horn and waited, and a minute later, two people came down the steps and walked to the car. One was the first woman he’d seen, and the other was a young girl with short dark hair.
Gundy jerked forward in his seat and looked closer.
It’s Sammi
. He was sure of it.
Finally!
Sammi and the woman got into the Buick and it backed out onto the street and began driving away in the opposite direction. Gundy quickly started the van and followed them, careful to keep a good distance between himself and the other car — close enough to see it but not close enough to be suspicious.
It wasn’t difficult to keep up with them. The driver of the Buick kept exactly to the speed limit, and he followed them for over ten minutes until they turned into a subdivision on the north side of town. He waited a moment before pulling in, and then crept down the street until he spotted them just ahead, parking in a driveway of a small, older wooden home.