Some Like It Witchy (25 page)

“I'm just . . .” I couldn't find the words.

“I know it's a lot to take in at once,” Ve said. “And of course, it's going to take some time to get this place whipped into shape, so I don't mind if you want to stay with me for however long that takes. A month. Six months. Five years.”

I let go of Mimi's hand and threw my arms around Ve, hugging her for all I was worth, squeezing my eyes shut and thanking my lucky stars for the family I had.

For my mom.

“Now, now, my dear,” she said. “You're going to make my mascara run.”

When I opened my eyes again, what I saw in front of me turned my joy into terror. I stiffened and pulled back, not sure what to do, not sure what to say.

“Can we go in?” Mimi asked.

“Absolutely!” Ve said, then looked at me. “Darcy? What's wrong?”

I motioned with my chin.

Ve turned and gasped.

Mimi cried, “Glinda!”

She lurched forward, and I grabbed her arm to stop her.

Finn Reardon stood in the shadows of the oak tree, holding a gun to Glinda's temple.

Something wicked.

He looked like living on the lam hadn't been easy. His clothes were torn, his skin scratched, and he was covered in a layer of dirt. His hair was matted and flat.

“Yes, let's go inside,” he said. “I have some searching to do and you all can help. I can't collect a reward now, but the diamonds will be easy enough to sell on the black market.”

“Let her go!” Mimi shouted.

“Pipe down! And not a chance,” he said. “I found her snooping around here fair and square. Followed you three right on over.”

I tried not to look at Glinda. I wanted to lecture her about karma, but would save it for later.

From the corner of my eye, I could see the rock and mineral fair was winding down for the night but was still fairly crowded. Lots of people were walking right past this pathway. Unfortunately, no one seemed to notice us at all.

But that might have been because Finn and his gun were hidden behind the tree. No one knew the danger we were in.

Mimi started crying, and Ve wrapped her arms around her.

Her tears nearly did me in, and I didn't know what to do.

Then I looked up and saw a splotch of red.

Archie's tail.

And a swish of white—Terry's curtain.

I prayed he wasn't so mad at Ve that he wouldn't call the police.

I had to stall.

I could stall.

I could stall like no one's business.

“Come on, come on!” he said. “I don't have all day. The cops are crawling all over this place.”

Hopefully literally.

“There's no point in going in,” I said. Under my breath, I whispered to Ve, “Pretend to have a heart attack.”

“Why not?” Finn demanded.

I shrugged. “The diamonds aren't in there.”

“How do you know that?” he demanded.

“Andreus found them already.” I shrugged. “Two days ago.”

Ve moaned, grabbed her left arm, and sank dramatically to the ground. “Can't . . . breathe.”

Archie would be so very proud of her.

I dropped to my knees next to her. “Ve!”

Mimi started crying louder—this time fake wails.

Finn stepped forward, dragging Glinda with him. “Make her get up!”

“Uhhhhhn!”
Ve groaned, writhing.

“Bravo,” I said under my breath. I looked at Finn. “I can't! I think she's having a heart attack.”

“Dammit!” Finn hit Glinda in the back of the head with the gun, and she slumped to the ground.

Mimi let out a gasp and once again started toward her. I grabbed her hand, making her stay put. “She'll be okay.”

Finn slowly came forward, keeping his gun trained on me. “Where did Andreus find them?” he asked, clearly having his doubts about my story.

If Finn could get close enough, I could use a little blammo on him. I could definitely knock him off balance. Maybe break his nose, too. It was a big enough target. I silently urged him to keep on coming.

“The mantelpiece was hollow,” I lied, thinking fast. “It's been all over the news,” I added, hoping he hadn't been near a TV while on the run.

“The
mantel
?” he said, shaking his head. “The mantel. Damn.”

“Stay down,” I whispered to Ve and Mimi as I stood up. I wiped my damp palms on my jeans and tried to calm down a bit. My pulse throbbed in my ears. Just a little closer . . .
“There's nothing left for you here, Finn. If you leave now, you can be out of state in an hour.”

Storminess clouded his eyes and I could practically see the war being waged.

“It wasn't supposed to happen like this,” he said, his voice breaking. “Calliope . . . Tell her I'm sorry.” He raised the gun to his temple.

“No!” I cried.

“‘Pursued by the Empire's sinister agents,'” Archie intoned, his deep voice booming as he dive-bombed out of the sky, knocking the gun out of Finn's hand.

Startled, Finn flapped his hands to keep Archie away from his face, which was why he didn't see Vince's car coming.

I barely had time to shout “Look out!” before it jumped the curb, plowed over the fence, and ran right over Finn.

T
hree days later, it was a cloudy Saturday afternoon as I stood in my yard, taking pictures of the damage left behind by the crash. Owning a house meant dealing with insurance adjusters.

My yard.

It had a nice ring to it, but I didn't know yet if I was going to live here or just use it as a place of business. The decision didn't have to be made right away. Renovations would take months.

Those months would offer plenty of time for Nick and me to decide if we were ready to take the next step. . . .

Looking around, I surveyed the yard and thought about how much had happened in the past few days.

Raina had been buried yesterday morning, her funeral attended by many, and gossip quickly circulated that Noelle Quinlan had dumped Kent. She was partnering with Calliope instead, whom the village had rallied around in the wake of Finn's arrest for the murder of Raina Gallagher.

Finn had a broken leg, ruptured spleen, and a concussion. Currently in the hospital, he'd be transferred to jail as soon as he was well enough. I imagined he'd be placed on suicide watch.

I'd seen Calliope only once since Finn had been run over, when I bumped into her at the hospital while visiting Glinda.

She'd had that hollow look in her eyes, and it made my heart ache for her.

Nosy Terry had seen the whole incident happen from his window, called the police, and sent Archie out to help. I owed him.

Looking at his upstairs window, I caught a flash of a face as a curtain swished closed. I smiled.

It had been Cherise's face.

I'm tired of always waiting, waiting, waiting, Darcy. Blah, blah, blah. I'd like to be settled. It's time to take action.

Apparently, she
had
been talking about more than houses.

Good for her.

Nick picked up a piece of a broken headlight and stuck it in a trash bag. “Vince is still swearing a squirrel ran in front of the car.”

Surprisingly, it was Vince who had been driving the car, taking Starla to dinner Wednesday night when he claimed he swerved to avoid a squirrel, causing the accident that took down Finn.

Starla felt vindicated about her assertions of rogue squirrels.

I said, “It makes me wonder if Starla is such a bad driver because she's learning from one.”

“Maybe so,” Nick said, smiling.

A bike horn honked and I looked up as Evan rolled up to the gate. Setting his feet on the ground, he looked around at the damage. “Are you positive it was Vince driving?”

Rolling my eyes, I walked over to him. “You're not at work . . .”

“Very astute,” he said with a smile. “Your investigating skills are getting better and better.”

“Such insolence after all I've done for you.”

“Like hire a killer to work in my bakery?” he asked.

I knew he wouldn't let me live that down anytime soon. “How about how I set you up with a hunky FBI agent? I think that definitely offsets the other.”

Color rose up his neck as he tipped his head back and forth as though weighing the two options. Then he grinned. “Yeah, okay. It does.”

Scott had returned to the village on Thursday to take Evan to dinner, and surprised himself by enjoying it. Unfortunately, he was still waiting on the medical examiner's office to claim his mother's remains. It was a slow process but he said just knowing where she was gave him peace of mind.

“And he,” Evan said, “is actually the reason why I'm not at work. We're meeting for a picnic. I have a little extra time on my hands now that I've promoted one of my part-timers to full time and hired two new employees yesterday.”

I beamed. Operation Fix Evan had been a huge success. Well, if I didn't count the whole Finn thing.

I didn't.

“It's okay,” he said. “You can go ahead and gloat.”

“No need to gloat.” I kissed his cheek. “I'm just happy to see you happy.”

I'd love to capture a picture of him right now so I could always remember the look on his face. But despite the fact that I had a camera in my hand, he was a Wishcrafter. His radiant face would be nothing but a bright blur, a perfect white starburst. I'd just have to trust my memory to hold on to this moment.

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled. “I've got to get going. I'm running late.”

“Before you go . . .” I walked over to the mailbox. “You don't happen to know anything about this, do you?”

Someone had stenciled
GRIM REAPER
on the side of the mailbox.

Laughing, he said, “If the name fits. I'll see you later.”

He was still laughing as he rode off.

Painting that mailbox was my next order of business.

Nick came up beside me and nodded in the direction Evan had gone. “What happens when Scott leaves?”

“I'm not entirely sure. Baby steps. He's happy right now . . . that's all that matters.”

Nick smiled as he picked up another piece of headlight. “You've got a good heart, Darcy Merriweather.”

A heart that fully belonged to him. I refused to worry about our housing situation until the time came. Right now my life was . . . settled.

I bent down and lifted one of the fence's finials that had broken free during the crash. I peeked inside its hollow core.

“Did we leave any behind?” Nick asked, looking over my shoulder.

“Nope. I think we found them all.”

It wasn't until all the smoke had cleared after the crash, all the emergency personnel had gone, and Nick and I were sitting in shock on the front steps of my new house when the moonlight lit the yard just so, making something sparkle from within a fence finial that had rolled near the foundation.

The strings of a velvet bag tucked within the hollowed opening had come loose, letting its secrets shine through.

Under the cover of darkness, Nick and I had found ten little velvet bags in ten separate finials.

Hundreds and hundreds of diamonds.

The diamonds hadn't been hidden in the house at all, but in the
yard
. On the
property
, as the Elder had said way back when. No one had picked up on the obvious clue.

The diamonds were now safely in the care of the Elder, those little bags tucked into the hollow of a weeping tree in a meadow not too far from here. A meadow that wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, thanks to that village council vote.

The Elder had already sent out an announcement to all Crafters that the diamonds had been located after the incident with Finn and had been transferred to a safe place known only to her.

I wished that they'd stay hidden forevermore, because Eleta was right. The biggest power those diamonds held was
the ability to cause heartache. I was pretty sure Calliope would agree with me.

I glanced across the street, at the empty green. The Roving Stones had packed up yesterday afternoon. Including Andreus. However, he vowed he'd be back often to visit Ve (
ew!
)
and promised that he'd never stop seeking those diamonds.

I believed him.

While my house—it was so strange to say that—was under construction, I'd make sure word got out to mortal treasure hunters that every nook and cranny had been searched. In other words, no need to break in, people.

When I made that announcement, Scott Abramson would officially have to leave the village and monitor the diamond case from afar. But until then, he had Evan to keep him company . . .

I took a few more pictures of the flattened fence and shrubs before looking back at the house. In my head, I'd already redesigned the bottom floor, creating the perfect office space.

The DODMTrust—Deryn Octavia Devany Merriweather Trust—had paid off Harper's mortgage on the bookshop yesterday morning.

Our mother had given us both a fresh start.

And speaking of fresh starts . . .

My gaze shifted to Mrs. P's bench. Mimi and Glinda were sitting on it, chatting a mile a minute. After the showdown with Finn, Nick had seen how much his little girl loved that witch as she cried over Glinda's unconscious body.

Nick still didn't trust Glinda, and visitation between her and Mimi was limited, but for now, Mimi was the happiest I'd seen her in a long time.

We were doing okay, too, Glinda and me. I brought her black balloons when she had to spend the night in the hospital for observation because of the hit she'd taken to the head.

And last night she'd dropped off a dead plant as a housewarming present.

I smiled at the memory and wished with all my might that her redeeming qualities would soon conquer her dark side. That the cycle of her wickedness would be broken once and for all.

“Happy looks good on you,” Nick said, nudging me with his elbow.

“It feels good.”

“I've been thinking that some daisy bushes along the walkway would look nice—don't you think?” he asked, a spark in his eye.

He hadn't said much about this house and me and our future, but that was the way of Nick. We'd figure it out. Until then, one day at a time. “I think that sounds perfect.”

I was about ready to call it a day when the neighborhood mourning dove landed in dramatic fashion on the front porch. Perfect timing! I quickly lifted my camera to finally capture the reference photo for my drawing of the bird who'd become such a familiar comfort in my life.

Only now, I wondered where I'd hang the drawing when I finished it. At Nick's like I originally planned?

Or here?

Baby steps, I told myself as I zoomed in.

The click of the shutter scared the bird off, and it made a noisy exit, burbling and flapping. I yelled “Sorry!” as I called up the picture on my camera, hoping that I'd got a clear shot of that blue ring around its eye.

But that wasn't the picture I'd captured at all.

Confused, I stared at the image on my screen.

It was a perfect white
starburst.