A Witch's Tale (6 page)

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Authors: Maralee Lowder

BOOK: A Witch's Tale
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“Do you realize how very serious the charges are that are likely to be brought against your mother and perhaps every member of your coven?” he asked, all traces of humor gone from his manner.
“There are people in this town
who
would gladly see all of you burned at the stake.”

“Oh, I know that all too well.
In spite of what you may think, I’m not a stupid woman.
What happened to Reverend Elkins is appalling, and I realize all too well that many people believe
our Wiccan coven is guilty of his murder.
But no
matter what they think, none of us would do such a thing.
I don’t know how I’m going to do it, but I will find a way to prove to you
,
and to everyone in this town
,
that they’re wrong.”

“But how?
No one is going to believe the word of
Myra Adams’ daughter, e
specially since you admit that you’re one of her followers.”

“You’re not, o
ne of her followers, that is.
If you could be convinced of her innocence, then perhaps you could convince the others.”
Cassie stopped suddenly and turned to face this man she had come to trust in such a short time.
“You could do it,” she urged, her eyes pleading.

“This whole situa
tion just keeps getting crazier.
I report the news,
I don’t manipulate it.”
For just a moment his conscious reminded him that of late his stories had been more figments of his own imagination than true news reporting, but he pushed that thought quickly aside.

“I don’t expect you to manipulate anything.
All I’m aski
ng is that you report the truth, w
ithout the innuendoes, without any religious superstitions.
Is that too much to ask?”

“Are you offering me an exclusive?”

“Yes,
t
hat’s it!
If you promise to listen with an open mind, to let me explain everything from our point of view, then I agree to answer all of your questions honestly and to speak to no other reporters.”

It was exactly the sort of break Mac had been looking for.
He should be
ecstatic over his good fortune. T
hen why the hell couldn’t he appreciate his good fortune without feeling like such a heel?

He shuddered when he thought of what Cassie’s reaction would be when she discovered which paper he worked for.
The Inquisitor
was the most notorious sleazy rag of all the tabloids.
Somehow he had to keep her from discovering the truth, at least until after he had gotten all he needed for his story.

 

Chapter 3

 

“And bail is set at one million dollars,” the judge intoned.
The single rap of his gavel expressed the finality of his decision.

Ben Jacobson, Myra’s
attorney, rose to his feet, and
sank slowly back to his seat without uttering a word.

“Where’d they get that old ge
ezer?” Mac asked Alan
Boatright
who sat beside him on one of the spectator’s benches.

“I believe Ben Jacobson was the only attorney who would take Myra’s case,” Alan replied.
“Pity, isn’t it?
Fat lot of good he’s likely to be.”

Mac glanced over at Sheriff Whitaker, noting a smirk
of satisfaction on his bulldog face.
Though he seemed pleased to have Myra Adams in a position where she was not likely to be set free before her trial, Mac was certain that the man would do whatever it took to see that the entire coven quickly followed its leader behind bars.

“I suppose that depends upon who you’re talking to.
I’d say he’s likely to make the State’s job a hell of a lot easier than it should be.
Your Sheriff over there,” he
nodded his
head towards Whit Whitaker, “seems more than a little pleased with the choice of attorneys.”

“If you ask me, Jacobson should be on the State’s payroll, not Myra’s.
Any other lawyer would never have allowed her to be charged, considering the State’s flimsy excuse of a case.
I can’t believe the Grand Jury could have recommended an indictment.
And a million dollars bail!
W
here did they find these people, i
n the middle ages?”

“I must agree with you,” Alan replied.
“The Grand
Jury,
and the judge too, are acting like leftovers from the Inquisition.
And just as in the ‘good old days’, superstition seems to have replaced all rational thought.”

Mac had placed himself in a position where he had an unobstructed view of Cassie’s face.
What he saw in her eyes pained him.
Even from this distance he could see the glitter of unshed tears.
Although she held herself stiff with pride, he could see disbelief and the beginnings of panic flickering across her expressive face.
God, he admired her courage!

His eyes shifted for a moment t
o the group of people seated
directly behind Cassie and his stomach clenched.
It was that damned crazy preacher and his bunch of
harebrained followers.
People like that made Mac nervous.
He couldn’t count the times he had witnessed people just like them turn peaceful gatherings into riots.

“Who is that guy, anyway?” Mac asked Alan, indicating the wild eyed preacher.
“What’s his story in all this?”

“Oh, that’s our
resident savior, Reverend Samuel
Hicks.
Why, according to his followers, this town was doomed to perdition until he arrived.”

“And was it - d
oomed to perdition, I mean?” Mac asked sarcastically.

“Sorry, I couldn’t tell you.
He got here before I did
by a couple months or so.
The place seemed pretty great to me at the time, but then maybe he had pulled off a miracle and saved Port
Bellmont
from the unspeakable before I arrived.”
His tone of voice matched Mac’s.
Obviously his opinion of the good Reverend Hicks did not match those of his fanatical followers.

The radical frenzy the Reverend’s followers exhibited did nothing to alleviate Mac’s tension.
They were too close to Cassie.
He gauged the distance between himself and them, asking himself if he could get to her in time if things suddenly got ugly.

As the session closed, the police were far too interested in getting Myra back to her jail cell without any mishap to be concerned with protecting her daughter and the other witches from the angry mob.
Cassie and her Wiccan sisters drew closer together as they edged towards t
he double-
doored
exit, trying to ignore the ugly taunts and epithets that were hurled at them.

Mac fought off the urge to rush to her side, realizing that it would be a mistake.
He didn’t dare let on, even to himself
,
the strength of his attraction to the young witch.
He forced himself to
remain far enough from the witches
not
to
reveal their connection, yet close enough to help protect them if things really got out of hand.

When Mac noted that the town’s Catholic priest had managed to wedge himself between the coven and the religious zealots, he decided it was time to forget about remaining separate from the story and get involved.
He was damned if he would allow one more religious nut to torment her.
But then he held back as he realized that the priest had managed to form a small barrier between the women and their tormenters, allowing them to pass out of the room unharmed.

The five women bravely passed through the gauntlet of angry jeers, drawing from each other’s strength throughout the ordeal.
Reverend Hicks and his band followed closely behind the women, railing at them about salvation and damnation, stirring the rest of the mob to an even greater frenzy.

“Does that guy ever shut up?” Mac
asked,
his nerves nearly to the breaking point.

“Not that I’ve noticed,” Alan replied dryly.
“As I see it, if it weren’t for the good Reverend, none of us would be capable of staying
upon the path of righteousness.
” Alan’s words dripped with sarcasm.

“I take it he’s not one of
your favorites among the locals …

“He’s a dan
gerous man, my friend, a
nd a powerful one.
You don’t want to get on his bad side.
If he takes a notion that you’re not one of the ‘chosen’, he’ll crucify you one way or another.”

Mac lifted his chin towards Alan, acknowledging the information as he pushed his way through the mob.
He’d had all he could take of standing back and observing.
He couldn’t
bear seeing Cassie being mauled and abused by the good pastor’s flock for one second longer.

She held her head high, riveting her eyes upon the open door ahead.
It wasn’t so far; she could make it.
Please, just let us get outside
, she prayed silently.
Everything will be fine if I can just get out of this horrible place.

It was all a blur of noise and bodies.
None of it was real.
Not real, not real
.
The momentum of the crowd carried her towards the door as her vision began to take on an ominous gray
tinge
.
She heard a ringing in her ears.
If she could just get some air!

And then she felt him by her side.
Mac reached out and steadied her, guiding her past Revere
nd Hicks
with his wild eyes and taunting words.
Mac’s h
and on her waist became her focu
s, her one point of reality.
Mac would help her, just as she’d known from the first moment their eyes had met.

He felt the tension ease from her body as they neared the opened door.
A burst of male pride flowed through him when she leaned into him, accepting his protection.
At that moment he realized he’d have faced a fire breathing dragon to protect the woman beside him.

The realization hit him hard.
He didn’t give a damn about anyone, he reminded himself.
Now was not the time to change philosophies.

 

*
*
  *

 

Mac felt a bit out of place sitting in the parlor of Mary Beth’s and Naomi’s quaint bed-and-breakfast inn.
Balancing a cup of herbal tea on his knee, he took a couple of sugar cookies from the plate Mary Beth held out to him.

“A million dollars!”
Edith Norris lamented.
“How in the world are we supposed to get a million dollars?”

“We’re not,” Shelly answered in a flat voice.
“That judge has no intention of letting Myra out on bail.
That’s why he set it so high.”

“But couldn’t Mr. Jacobson petition the court or something?
Isn’t that what
attorneys are supposed to do?”
Mary Beth suggested.

“Are you kidding?
Myra will be lucky if that old man manages to stay awake during the trial.”
Shelly never had approved of the attorn
ey Cassie had hired for her mom, b
ut she had to accept the fact that the only other choice had
been the public defender, and, given the climate of local sentiment, a public defender was no choice at all.

Mac realized how distressed all of Myra’s followers were at the thought of her being forced to stay in the jail cell, but he couldn’t help but feel that perhaps it was the safest place for her at the moment.
Although it was true that not everyone in town was convinced of her guilt, there were enough hard core witch haters around to make him fear for her safety outside of those steel bars.
Hell, he was already in a panic over how Cassie and the rest of the coven co
uld be protected from some over-
zealous nut out to prove
himself
and save humanity.

He was prevented from making such an observation by the ringing of the telephone.
Naomi answered the ph
one, listened for a moment, and
handed it to Cassie.

“Hello?”
Mac could hear the tension in her voice.
He realized just how abandoned she must feel at this moment.

He rose to his feet when he saw the color drain from her face.
Damn!
What more could go wrong?
But then her expression changed to one of wonder and utter happiness.

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