Witches (35 page)

“Jane Weatherby?” Rebecca asked the short woman with the leery, brown eyes, standing before her in the open doorway.

“Yes?” The woman had curly red hair framing a pretty face. A tall older-looking man came to pose protectively behind her, hand on her shoulder, and examined Rebecca, as well.

He stepped up front and demanded, “What do you want? If you’re selling something, we don’t want it.” His voice was deep, curt, and firm. Unwelcoming eyes. Rebecca’s gaze had swung back to the woman, ignoring the man. “Jane, I’m Rebecca Givens. Amanda’s older sister. I’m here to find her. Will you help me?”

“Rebecca?” Tears of relief flooded the other woman’s eyes and she reached out a hand and yanked Rebecca into the house.

“Oh, thank God Jessie found you and you’re here. I’m so frightened for Amanda! She’s been missing for five days, and we know,” her eyes glanced up to the man’s softening face, “that she’s in terrible danger.

“And yes, we’ll help,” she breathed. “Ernie and I would do anything for her.” She leaned against the man with his hands on her shoulders.

“She saved my Jonny from those awful, wicked cult people, and somehow got rid of them. I owe her more than I can ever repay. The whole town does. If not for Amanda, my son would be dead and probably scores of others.” The woman was weeping softly and the man was inspecting Rebecca, probably searching her face for traces of the Amanda he knew. He then smiled at her encouragingly.

Rebecca could see they cared about Amanda.

“Good.” Rebecca smiled for the first time. “We have to talk first. There’s a hell of a lot I need to ask both of you.”

“All right. We’ll talk over coffee and something to eat?” Jane offered. “You look hungry and exhausted to me, Rebecca.”

Rebecca was thankful. “That’s kind of you. I could use both. It’s been a harrowing few days and I haven’t had breakfast yet, either, come to think of it. I’m starving, so that’d be great. I could use a cup of hot coffee. It was freezing hiking over here from the hotel. Don’t go to any real trouble, though.”

“It’s no trouble, believe me.” Jane led her through her ceramic shop and into a small, cozy kitchen. She put on the coffeepot.

“How is Jonny doing?” Rebecca asked first thing.

“He’s doing as good as can be expected after what he went through,” Jane replied, her face tender at mention of her son. “The doctors said there’ll be some scars. Physical as well
as emotional but that he’ll
recover in time. He’s still in the hospital, we were getting ready to go there when you knocked on the door. My other boys are with their grandmother.” She gave Rebecca a faint smile as she got some things from the refrigerator. “Mom thought I needed a few days of rest.”

“I’m glad your son is okay, for your sake,” Rebecca responded. “I know how dear he is, all the boys are, to my sister.”

Rebecca turned to the man and shoved out her hand for him to shake. “Hi. You’re the mailman? Ernie, right?”

* * * *

“Right.” Ernie nodded. “That’s me.”

“Amanda wrote me all about you in her letters. Talked about you a lot, too. Said you were Jake’s best friend.”

Rebecca settled in one of the chairs with a tired sigh. Ernie sat next to her, watching her with an amused twist to his lips. He was thinking that he’d never met anyone who looked more like a witch in his life. In the last few days since Amanda’s disappearance and what he’d seen at Black Pond, he’d been doing a lot of thinking about what Jake had once said about Amanda’s being a real witch and about what Amanda had revealed to him out at her cabin. He’d never believed in witches and such before, but things had sure gotten weird lately. Real weird. Somebody
had cremated those cult members into piles of ash and gritty rubble. That wasn’t normal, either.

Then, Rebecca’s familiar crawled out of the pocket of her coat, which she’d hung from the back of her chair, climbed up and sat perched on her shoulder. Ernie’s eyes widened as the tiny ebony mouse glared through Rebecca’s wild hair at him with glittering eyes, his whiskers twitching, and winked at him. Looked at him as if the creature was fully cognizant of everything that was going on. Like it had intelligence. Ridiculous.

“My familiar, Tituba.” Rebecca introduced the mouse to Ernie and Jane, smiling. Seeing Ernie’s open mouth, she added, “He won’t bother us. He only wants to listen so he can help. Just don’t let him fool you or catch you unawares; he likes to make mischief as much as he likes to make magic.”

Which Ernie soon learned was true when the mouse started aggravating him by appearing and reappearing first in one place and then, a poof later, in another. It almost drove Ernie nuts. He couldn’t believe his eyes, but then he couldn’t not.

Oh, this had to be a dream, Ernie thought. Witches, magic and smart-ass rodent familiars.

Jane seemed to accept Tibby quicker than he. She made the coffee and threw some slabs of bacon into a frying pan before she started recounting her story. About the earlier murders and terrorizing by the Satanic cult, Jonny’s abduction, the search, and how the town mistakenly blamed Amanda for it all and chased her to the pond after burning her cabin to the ground. Jane’s fears over Amanda’s continued absence. Everything. He sat and listened, as well, though he knew most of the story. It chilled him even more to hear it all from her lips. It made it more real.

Everything he’d ever believed about the safeness and saneness of his world went right down the drain.

* * * *

Rebecca’s face was grim as she listened, but it felt good to be sitting with Amanda’s friends around her, people who knew who and what she was and what was at stake. Not just some of her witchcraft-crazy fans wanting something from her. These were real people. The comfortable surroundings, and the smell of bacon frying and coffee brewing, hung sweet on the air, and Rebecca, even though the subject they were discussing was serious, felt like she was in heaven.

She’d been on the road far too long, she thought cynically, when a home-cooked meal could mean so damn much.

After this was over, observing the comfortable kitchen and how expertly Jane had broken the eggs into the frying pan and popped some rolls made from scratch into the oven, maybe she should see about settling down some. A home of her own. Maybe, even buy a house around here somewhere. Darn, if this was where Amanda really wanted to live, if she cared for these people that much, it must have its good points. Sisters should stick together, shouldn’t they? Especially when they both lived
alone.

A house all her own...hmm...it had never
actually appealed to her much before and yet…now suddenly it did. Truth was, she was sick of living out of suitcases. She was sick of being a celebrity witch. Sitting backstage at talk shows and being stared at by so-called stars with about as much brains and off-screen personality as cantaloupes. Lounging before radio microphones still half-asleep because it was earlier than a human being should ever have to get up and having every nutcase in the world call and ask the most stupid questions—was that really living? She was beginning to wonder.

“Tell me all about Rachel. The legend of Black Pond,” Rebecca finally requested as they ate.

Ernie and Jane exchanged looks but it was Ernie who answered.

“I don’t know everything about Rachel and the legend, just what I’ve heard through the years. After Amanda disappeared, I went to see another friend of hers who knew more about it. Mabel.”

“The old lady in the trailer?” Rebecca tossed in.

“Yeah,” Ernie said. “I was hoping Amanda, scared at what the townspeople had done, was maybe hiding out there. She wasn’t, of course. That’s when Mabel told me about Rachel’s visitations to Amanda. Told me all about it. It seems impossible. A vindictive witch-ghost and all.”

Real witches seemed impossible to most non-witches, too,
Rebecca thought, amused, as she recognized the look in Ernie’s steel-gray eyes as he talked to her. The man still didn’t completely believe in Amanda or her. Witches and magic—or ghosts. Yet.

At that moment Tibby appeared on Ernie’s arm and when he neglected to notice him fully, the mouse nipped him and then scuttled away down his leg, chuckling. Ernie just stared after him like he’d
seen a ghost. Then scratched the side of his head and grinned in embarrassment. “I think I like that little fellow, after all. He’s a pest, but a cute one. Got big balls for such a tiny creature.” Then, without skipping a beat, he finished what he’d begun to say before Tibby’s little stunt.

“Anyway. Mabel’s a pretty level-headed old gal. Not prone to fancies. So it’s hard not to believe her when she says something’s supernatural about it all.”

Rebecca paid careful attention to everything Jane and Ernie had to say, filing away anything she thought would be of importance later. Sometimes a puzzled glint wavered in her eyes, or dismay, surprise, and sometimes even alarm as they unfolded their tale.

They’d done their homework and had talked to a lot of people in their search for Amanda. They still didn’t know what had actually happened to her. There was no body in Black Pond. The sheriff had conducted a thorough investigation prompted by the townspeople’s guilt. They’d dragged the water. No body. Nothing.

When they were finished with their story and the food, Rebecca was studying the ceiling, burdened with knowledge and conclusions that she alone had patched together.

“Where is Amanda?” Jane broke into her reverie. “I know you have your suspicions, don’t you?”

Rebecca slid her eyes from the ceiling to Jane’s face. “Jane, if I told you, you wouldn’t believe it. So let’s just say that she isn’t where she’s supposed to be, and that if I’m right about everything it’ll be a hell of a story.

“And, yes, I’ll tell you all about it—when it’s over.”

If I’m still here and alive myself Rebecca thought, letting out a heavy sigh, and then slowly standing up to pull her sweaters, coat, gloves, and cap back on. The talk was over. She’d learned all she was going to learn from Ernie and Jane. Now it was show time.

“You have a car?” she asked Jane.

“Yes,” Jane said, her eyebrows raising in a question.

“Can I borrow it and one of you to get
out to Black Pond? I don’t have a car, and I don’t know where it is.”

“Of course,” Jane agreed. “We’re going with you, Rebecca. We want to help.” Jane’s tone was determined as Ernie took her hand in his to show his support.

“I only need one of you to drop me off near Black Pond. Direct me toward it. You don’t come with me. You stay in the car and wait. Just one of you.” She looked at Ernie. Ernie, Rebecca had observed, was the stronger of the two. Whether he knew it or not, he had an inner strength that would protect him far better than Jane.

“You, Ernie. I’m afraid it’s too dangerous for Jane in her, um, condition.”

Ernie didn’t notice Jane’s shocked expression; he was looking at Rebecca. The moment slid by.

“She saved my son’s life,” Jane insisted strongly. “Amanda’s my friend, too—”

Rebecca cut her off with a sharp gesture. “Jane, you’ve helped enough already. I think you’ve given me what I need to go after Amanda and I don’t want either of you going along for another reason. There are things I need to do and I won’t be able to do them if I have to protect you two. You and Ernie have no concept of what we’re really up against here and you have absolutely no defenses against it—but I do. I’m a witch,” she said with obvious pride for maybe the first time in her life. “I’m the only one who can fight Rachel on her own terms. I don’t want any more people in harm’s way than need be.” She turned serious eyes on them both.

Rachel would kill both of them quicker than a person would step on a fly that was bugging them, Rebecca thought glumly. She certainly didn’t want their deaths on her conscience if she failed.

They didn’t give her any more trouble. Jane took her car keys from her purse and handed them to Ernie.

“I’m ready to go anytime you are, Rebecca.” He grinned, shrugging into his coat, and kissing Jane goodbye lightly on her lips. She looked like she needed another week’s rest. “We’d better hurry, too. Worse weather and subzero temperatures are heading this way even as we speak. You wouldn’t want to be caught out in the storm that’s coming.”

Which storm? Rebecca pondered, thinking not only of the weather, but of Rachel.

“Good luck. Be careful, Rebecca. I pray you find out what happened to Amanda. I pray you find her. God protect and speed,” Jane encouraged at the door after she’d kissed Ernie good-bye again, more passionately this time as if she were afraid she’d never see him again.

Lovers were so sweet. It was a shame, though, Rebecca mused, that Ernie was taken. She liked men with beards and gray-streaked, longish hair.

She and Ernie didn’t talk much on the drive out there. Rebecca hadn’t let either him or Jane in on the real reason she had to get out to Black Pond because, as she’d said, they wouldn’t have believed it. It’d been easier to use the excuse that she just wanted to examine the last place Amanda had been. Search for tracks of any kind. Inspect the remnants of the doomed cult; the scene of the crime. See if there were any vibrations or magical clues left. It’d have served no purpose to tell them she was going to try to call up a dead witch and trick her into confessing what she’d done with her sister. If she could. It would have only scared them more. God knew it scared the hell out of her. Nonetheless, it was the only thing she could think of.