Wiccan, A Witchy Young Adult Paranormal Romance (12 page)

That seemed to sway her a little, but
when she still hesitated, I concentrated as hard as I could on how
much I wanted her to go and have fun with Matt. Within a few
seconds, Billie’s face relaxed and a happy smile spread across her
lips. I was a little surprised and a little thrilled that it
worked. It seemed almost ridiculous to even consider that I could
do that to people, but I was really starting to believe
it.

She winked at me and shifted into
drive. “Alright. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

I watched as she pulled out of the
driveway. When I could no longer see the lights from her car, I
made my way into the house and collapsed on my bed.

********

I spent the majority of Sunday with
Billie. We got a coffee, did a little shopping then got some lunch
at Panera Bread. After a detailed account of her conversations (and
other activities) with Matt, she spent the rest of the day regaling
me with tales of her college life. It sounded in no way similar to
mine. And I knew it had nothing to do with the school or the fact
that she was away from home. It was simply the difference between
me and Billie. She’d probably have similar stories if she’d stayed
and gone to University East with me.

She left at 3:30, having to cart all
the stuff her parents got her back to her dorm and put it away.
Plus there was some kind of party she wanted to attend after that.
That’s Billie. Always the social butterfly.

I slept fairly well Sunday night and
awoke Monday morning feeling nearly ready for the day.

As soon as I walked out the front door,
I started thinking to myself how I hoped that Jake wouldn’t be
jogging today and how he wouldn’t want to walk me to class anymore.
I didn’t know how my influence worked really, whether I had to be
within a certain distance or what, but I was willing to try
anyway.

The incident at the party had been a
shocking reality check for me. Though Jake was good looking,
athletic, popular and probably had a bright future, he’d lost any
appeal for me. I required a man with depth and it was depressingly
apparent that he had none. He was a typical college guy and that
was something I could do without.

I was relieved when I reached the
sidewalk and he was nowhere to be found. I hurried along toward
class and was pleased when I found myself safely seated in Dr.
Bradbury’s room and there was still no sign of Jake. Maybe my trick
had worked.

After class, I was crossing the quad in
the direction of my next class when I saw a terrible commotion in
front of another building. There was a huge horde of people
hovering around what looked like several cops at the center of
their group. I only had to change my course a tiny bit to get close
enough to the crowd to see what was going on, so I did. I was no
busy body, but I was just as curious as the next person. I planned
just to get a quick glimpse of whatever was going on and then be on
my way.

Shortly after I’d gotten to the edge of
the crowd, the police began to move, making a path through the
onlookers. I stepped back to allow people to shift, which put me
near the end of what ended up being a line. I leaned forward to
look and see what they were doing and when I did, I was
stunned.

Jake Wheeler was handcuffed and flanked
by two of the three cops that had apparently come for him. The
third walked in front of him, clearing the way. Jake’s face was
blood red and his hair was tousled. He looked either furious beyond
description or like he was about to cry. I couldn’t tell
which.

I could hear him saying through gritted
teeth that they had the wrong guy. He kept saying it over and over
and over, but the policemen ignored him. The one in front just
called something quietly into the radio at his shoulder and they
continued on their path to arresting Jake.

When the cops had led Jake away, a
couple of guys in front were whispering to one another and I
couldn’t stop myself from asking, “What happened?”

The one with glasses and terrible acne
answered me first. “They just arrested Jake Wheeler.”

I wanted to say
Duh!,
but I didn’t.
Instead, I turned my attention to the other guy, a fresh-faced boy
who looked like he wasn’t a day over fifteen. “What did they arrest
him for?”

“
Killing his girlfriend,
Lisa Bauer,” he said in his pre-pubescent voice.

I tried Jake’s image against
the one that I had of Lisa’s killer and I just couldn’t get it to
jibe. The hands I remembered from the vision just weren’t…Jake’s.
Or maybe
any
man’s
unless he was a small guy with particularly fine bones. And what
about the wig? The girl at the party hadn’t mentioned Jake as one
of the masqueraders wearing a red wig.

For the rest of the day, amid the buzz
of speculation about Jake, I replayed the images I’d seen of Lisa’s
murder. The more I tried to visualize what I’d seen, the more
confused I got. It’s amazing how you can talk yourself into or out
of things if you think about them long enough. It did, however,
serve as an incredibly effective motivator to call Detective
Grayson. I might not be onto anything at all and he might not tell
me even if I was, but I had to at least try.

In a flash of devilish insight, I
thought to myself that maybe I ought to try to work my “magic” on
Detective Grayson. A stab of conscience reared its ugly head,
telling me that doing something like that was hardly ethical, but I
quickly buried it.

Later, on my way home, I
focused all my energy on Grayson, concentrating on how I wished he
would tell me everything about the case, on how he
wanted
to tell me
everything about the case.

Walking through the kitchen and dialing
his number at the same time, I couldn’t help thinking how handy a
nifty little ability like this could be if it worked.

As the phone rang, I thought of all the
benefits of being able to bend people to my will. The thrill of it,
the pleasure of it, the high of it! When my conscience rose to the
surface again, it barely made a peep before I easily squashed it
back down into silence.

My stomach fluttered nervously when
Grayson answered his phone. I introduced myself much as I had each
time I’d talked to him.

He sighed, one of the sounds that gave
the impression he felt incredibly put-upon. “What is it, Ms.
Holloway?”

Though his reaction irritated me, I
kept myself in check, not wanting to blow my chance to learn
something. “I saw that they arrested Jake Wheeler today and I just
wanted to see if anything I told you was helpful.”

That sounded weak, but it was the best
I could come up with. I hadn’t given much thought as to how I’d
start the conversation. I almost expected him to just start gushing
details as soon as he heard my voice. Obviously, Detective Grayson
wasn’t an easy target.

“
Yes, you’ve been very
helpful,” he said, answering my question, but not in the way I
wanted.

“
But you must’ve found
something else then, something concrete that gave you enough to
arrest him, right?”

“
Yes, that’s usually the way
it works.”

“
So, you must’ve determined
that Jake was one of the ones wearing a wig.”

“
We did.”

“
And you must’ve found it
then.”

“
We did. And it was an exact
match to the hair we found on Lisa and beside the rock. They went
to the party dressed as Tony Stark and Black Widow, only with a
twist because she was Tony and he was Black Widow.”

I thought about what he was saying.
Evidently they had enough proof to arrest Jake, which was pretty
compelling. But something just wasn’t quite right. I still couldn’t
picture Jake as the person I’d glimpsed choking Lisa.

“
That’s great, Detective
Grayson, but—”

“
Just Grayson,” he
interrupted.

“
That’s great,
Grayson,
but I just don’t
think it was Jake Wheeler that killed Lisa. His hands are too big.
The killer’s were just…I don’t know. Finer, I guess.”

“
Well, we have evidence that
says otherwise.”

“
Did you find the gloves
with the rest of his costume?”

There was a tiny pause, one that I took
as a bit of uncertainty. “No, no gloves were recovered from
Wheeler’s apartment. Why?”

“
It’s just that the killer’s
gloves would probably have had some scratches from Lisa’s
fingernails. She was really clawing at them to break free of the
choke.”

“
He could’ve ditched
them.”

“
But not the wig? That makes
no sense. Why would he do that?”

“
I don’t know. Who knows why
homicidal maniacs do the things they do. They just do.”

“
I- I still don’t believe it
was Jake.”

“
Look, Ms. Holloway, I know
you have an…
interest
in him, but—”

I interrupted him, surprised. “He just
walked me to class a few times. He said it wasn’t safe for me to be
walking through the woods alone after what had happened. It was
nothing more than that.” And, though that hadn’t always been
entirely true, it certainly was now. My feelings for Jake were
truly nothing more than friendly at this point.

“
Right,” Grayson said, his
voice dripping with sarcasm.

I don’t know why, but suddenly I was
desperate to convince Grayson that I didn’t have feelings for
Jake.

“
I’m telling you the truth.
I might’ve thought he was handsome and nice, but after—” I stopped
myself, not wanting to admit that my feelings for him had changed
after he’d blown me off at a party.

“
After what?”

“
I just saw him at a party
and he’s not my type. That’s all.”

“
Right,” Grayson said
again.

“
Look, I just don’t want for
you to imprison the wrong person and let the real killer go free.
Are you absolutely certain that Jake Wheeler is the
killer?”

“
If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t
have arrested him. You have to keep in mind, Ms. Holloway, that
anyone, and I mean
anyone,
is capable of murder under the right
circumstances.”

With a sigh, I thought maybe
I’d better leave well enough alone for now. “Alright,” I
acquiesced. It was obviously harder than that to plant a seed of
doubt in
this
cop’s head. I’d have to think of something else later. “So,
any progress on Ashton Webber?”

“
Nothing I can discuss,” he
said sharply.

“
Oh, I understand,” I
fibbed, irritated. “Thanks for your time,
Detective
Grayson.” And with that
childish dig, I hung up.

I stayed in my room most of the
evening, coming out only for dinner. For some reason, my mother’s
happy chatter was grating on my nerves like it never had before. I
thought it best to just hide and keep to myself until my mood wore
off.

Only it didn’t. It seemed that my
temper was getting pricklier and pricklier, becoming easier and
easier to tap into.

I read chapter after chapter of my
abnormal psychology book to keep my mind occupied. Finally I fell
asleep, fully clothed and on top of the covers.

If I had been dreaming, I couldn’t
remember what it was about. I just remember that strange flickering
like bad reception and then I was standing in front of another
motel window, just like I had dreamed before.

This window was covered with material
patterned in a wavy blue and red stripe. The curtains were closed,
but not completely. Through the tiny gap, I could see part of a
tacky green neon sign. The letters HAR were visible and below that
HO. The last of each word was cut off by the curtains. I tried to
lift my hand to further part the panels, but my limbs weren’t
obeying my commands.

I turned toward the bed. There were two
small lights mounted to the wall on either side of the headboard.
Both were shining brightly down upon the girl that lay upon the
stained white sheets.

She was hooded, just like the last girl
had been, only this one had dark hair peeking out from beneath. She
wore running shorts and a women’s athletic tank top both in royal
blue. She was petite, much like the other girl had been, and her
wrists and ankles were bound with duct tape as well.

I walked to the side of the bed to
stand above her. I could see her chest heaving as she breathed. It
was hard to tell if she was panting in fear or crying. I couldn’t
hear anything.

My arm, wrapped just as it had been
before, rose to shoulder height and my hand hovered over her body,
fingers splayed. Something washed over me, like warm ocean waves,
causing the hairs on my arms and legs to stand up. The girl started
shaking her head frantically back and forth and then her body
started to buck against the bed as if she was having a seizure. She
arched her back and beat at her head with her bound hands. I could
see the tendons straining in her neck and chest. She flailed and
thrashed so hard the lights above the headboard shook. And then she
went still.