What they discovered at Evelyn’s house.
Abigail found herself dodging raindrops as Frank held on to her arm and they sprinted for the house. Myrtle had taken the umbrella and was already at her sister’s door.
“Thank goodness you three are here! I’ve been waiting for you,” Evelyn cried as soon as they were ushered inside. The door closed behind them and shut out the rainy world. Evelyn went right to the couch and flopped down on it and a tiny black cat crawled into her lap.
Not much had changed, Abigail pondered, as she stared around Evelyn’s abode. The house was still falling down around the old woman’s head and was still crammed full of meowing, mewling, barking, chirping animals. Possibly, to be truthful, even more animals than a few years ago. The smells and sounds reminded her of an overcrowded zoo. There were cats and dogs sleeping on or milling around every surface in the living room. They were climbing on the chairs, the sofa and the outdated box style television. There were cages of brightly plumed birds squawking and preening their feathers. Evelyn was cuddling the ebony kitten. With patches of its fur missing and scabs on its head and nose, it didn’t look well.
Evelyn herself hadn’t changed much, either. She was still tall, wore too much make-up and bizarre party clothing and still resembled a startled squirrel. It had been a year or so since Abigail had seen the woman; not since she’d moved in with Frank and sold her house, which was through the woods behind Evelyn’s home. After much debating with herself if she should keep it or not, she’d decided she wanted to step fully into her new life and had sold it to a young couple without children. She rarely had returned. It was their home now because she had a new one with Frank and the kids. These days she was happier than she’d been in years, and more at peace than since before Joel, her first husband, had disappeared and been found dead nearly four years before. She had let go of her house as she’d let go of her unhappy past.
“Sit down everyone.” Evelyn played the hostess. “Can I get anyone anything to drink? Tea or something?”
“No thank you,” Abigail said. Trying in vain to find where she could squeeze in and sit, she opted to just stand. There was fur everywhere and she had on a dark colored T-shirt. A miniature spotted brown and white dog was sniffing at her. She reached down to pet the creature and when it snarled, she quickly redrew her hand.
“No thanks, nothing for me. So, Evelyn,” Frank stated right off, remaining standing as well, “what’s this we hear about some of your animals ending up either missing or dead?”
Myrtle croaked, “Witches are doing it, right, Sis?” She’d pushed a couple of fat cats off a chair and had settled herself on it instead. Abigail could only think: Boy, will you be covered in hair when you get up.
Frank interrupted, “Let her tell us, Myrtle. I want to hear her version of what’s been going on.”
Abigail looked up. There was a parrot sitting on the top rod of the picture window’s curtains. It was rocking its head to and fro and bouncing around like a jumping bean along the length of the window. Then she heard a noise and noticed there were a couple of rabbits hiding beneath Myrtle’s chair, looking out at them. Cute little bunnies, too. All white and fluffy.
“Well, I’m not as sure as my sister here that witches and evil magic are behind my animals’ disappearances and, er, deaths, but something terrible has been happening to them. I can assure you of that. I’ve lost an awful lot of my little friends in the last week or two. It can’t be by accident.” Evelyn shooed off a large sheepdog and a skinny German Shepard which looked to still be a puppy. It was all legs and skinny ribcage. The old woman appeared to be at her wit’s end. Her expression was apprehensive and her eyes red-rimmed as if she’d been weeping. She gently stroked the ill kitten curled in her lap.
“It’s witches, believe me!” Myrtle cackled as if she were trying to imitate one.
“About how many animals,” Abigail inquired, “have you lost?”
Evelyn pursed her red lips and seemed to think about it for a second or so. “I’d say there are around ten cats missing and I’ve found five dogs and two cats out in the woods around here torn to pieces.”
“Nah, she’s being squeamish,” Myrtle inserted. “They were dissected is what they were. Cut into bloody pieces and hung from tree limbs along with other little presents. It’s gruesome, is what it is. Terrible!”
A disturbing shadow skimmed across Evelyn’s face. Abigail recognized it as one of fear.
“I can’t hardly bear to think about it,” Evelyn murmured, closing her eyes for a moment. “My poor little pets. I took the dead ones down, of course, and gave them proper burials. Whoever is doing this should be sent to prison for life.”
Frank spoke up. “Evelyn, can you show us where you found the…remains?” He looked out the dirty window. The rain had finally completely stopped. A pale sun was trying to come out.
Myrtle nodded affirmatively at her sister and Evelyn exhaled heavily in response. “As I said I’ve already buried my deceased friends, but I guess I can lead you to the spot I found them or close to it. But I won’t go all the way. I can’t look at or be in that evil place again. I’ve been having nightmares enough.” The woman rose from the sofa and put the kitten down gently on it. “You stay there, Little Ebony–that’s what I’ve named her–and I’ll be back soon.”
To the other humans in the room, she said, “Follow me you three. It’s not far.” Evelyn shuffled over to a closet and pulling out a rain coat, put it on. “Just in case the rain resumes.”
So the four of them exited the house, strode through Evelyn’s backyard and into the rain sodden woods. Evelyn’s yard matched the inside of her house, messy. It was littered with discarded appliances, pieces of broken furniture, timeworn animal houses and a herd of frightened, scurrying critters. The animals disappeared as soon as the humans showed up, skittering into their hidey holes or up tree trunks. Abigail wondered just how many creatures were camped out at Evelyn’s house. There seemed to be so many. For the first time in a long time Abigail was glad she no longer lived behind the woman. The animal noise had to be even more irritating than when she’d lived in her little house.
As they trod deeper into the woods, she felt a shiver begin at the base of her neck and travel downwards to her legs. It might have been because of the nature of their expedition, but she thought the forest looked and felt especially threatening. The sky was suddenly overcast again and the shadows nudged deep around the trees and made it seem as if it were nighttime. Water dribbled from the drooping trees’ leaves and the ground was soggy; their feet sunk into it. It reminded her of that long ago run into the night woods when she’d trailed Myrtle to the Summers kids’ secret clubhouse and had discovered their lost diary. There were strange sounds, too, around them. Cries in the gloom and noises she couldn’t identify. What kind of animal was that? What was that? Why was it getting so dark?
Stop it, she cautioned herself. There’s nothing out here but trees, grass and sky. Nothing truly dangerous. Right?
Evelyn took them to a clearing about a quarter mile away from her home and stopped. “Go on ahead. Keep straight. It’s right around that big tree there. You’ll know when you see it. You can’t miss it.” Her finger leveled in the direction she wanted them to go. “This is as far as I’m going.”
Frank led and Abigail and Myrtle shadowed him.
There was a towering tree with great spreading limbs reaching to the sky. And hanging from a few of those limbs were pieces of thin bloodied rawhide ropes fluttering in the breeze or bizarre looking stick creations…or figures of twined together sticks and twigs which were probably meant to resemble people. The sticks clicked against each other and made sounds sort of like skeletons clanking together. Along with the unnatural murkiness and the dampness of the trees and ground, the dank smell of the crushed leaves underfoot, it created an eerie scene. It could have been a woods waiting for a space ship. It was so alien looking.
Frank moved up and inspected one of the larger hanging configurations up close as Myrtle religiously crossed herself and stepped back a little.
“Yep, just as I told you,” Myrtle muttered, “I’ve seen these kind of things before. I recognize them all right. It’s black witchcraft for sure. They’re evil jujus meant to warn us off.”
Abigail put her hand out and was about to touch one when Myrtle snapped, “Don’t touch that! You neither Frank. They’re full of malicious magic and it’ll rub off on you for sure. It’ll mark you and the witch or witches who made these will know everything about you. You’ll never be able to hide from them. Some even think it enables them to read your thoughts.”
Abigail withdrew her hand quickly. She didn’t believe in witches or their omniscient powers but why upset the old woman?
“If you believe in that stuff, Myrtle,” Frank spoke softly as he pulled one of the hanging twig dolls off a nearby limb. Abigail noticed because she was close enough, though, he’d wrapped a leaf around it first as he’d taken it down. He studied it in his hand, turned it around. Poked at it. “These might not be what you think they are. Kids might have put these out for a prank. Halloween is coming, you know.”
Myrtle was staring at him, mouth open, and the thing he held in his hand. “Oh boy, you’ve done it now.” Then without warning, the old woman charged at him, snatching up a piece of wood from the ground as she went, and knocked the twig creation right out of his hands. It flew into the center of a cluster of thick bushes.
“Myrtle!” Frank bellowed. “Why did you do that?”
“To save your hide and perhaps even your soul. I told you not to touch those damn things and I meant it. You have no idea how dangerous they are or this place is.” Myrtle’s eyes were angry, her stance defiant, as she planted herself in front of him, hands on her hips. “And I strongly recommend when you get back to my sister’s house you wash the hand which held that cursed thing with scalding hot water and soap. Maybe then its hold on you will lessen or let go. If you’re lucky.”
Frank was shaking his head at her words, but Abigail noted he didn’t pluck another of the cursed things from the tree. Instead, he tugged out his iPhone and took photos. “For my records. I’d like to do some research on them.”
“That’s up to you,” Myrtle said, “but I can tell you all you need to know about them if you just ask me. I’m an expert. Been there, done that.”
“Then I’m asking you. Why would anyone hang these things out here?”
“I told you! Witches did it and this is their way of staking out their claim, their territory, so to speak. Each hanging twig person represents someone they’re casting a curse upon or thinking of putting a curse on. If you noticed there’s also a burn ring beneath the tree. That’s where the witches, maybe even a coven, did their ritual and stuff. Probably killed their sacrifices there, as well. Remember my sister said this was where she found her missing pets, butchered and hanging.”
Abigail shuddered. Gazing down at the spot Myrtle was referring to she saw the stains on the ground. They could have been blood. A disturbing image crept into her mind: A circle of chanting women dressed in long dark clothes and surrounded in a swirling mist. Their heads were lowered so she couldn’t see faces…but she had the sense they were up to no good.
There are no such thing as real witches. Right? Surely, Myrtle was just spinning one of her colorful tales?
That’s when the strange noises resumed, from somewhere, she couldn’t tell where. But they were louder this time, closer, and somehow different, like animals in distress; then came a sound like a woman crying. Oh, oh. Catching the expression of horror on Myrtle’s face she knew she was hearing the same things.
“Shadow witches,” Myrtle whispered and crossed herself again.
“Shadow witches?” Abigail pressed. “What are they?”
“Dead or living black magic witches. Take your pick. They’re out there in the dark woods stalking us, waiting and scheming to do something bad. If you look quick enough you can see them flitting from one shadow to another.”
Abigail merely moved her head back and forth. Myrtle sure did have a wild imagination.
The old woman looked at Frank. “Are you done? Can we go now before the evil of this place attaches itself to us and sucks the life out of our bodies or the goodness out of our souls?”
Frank sent her an exasperated glance and after one more look around replied, “I’ve seen enough. We can go now.”
Myrtle thrashed off through the brambles ahead of them and they caught up to her where they’d left Evelyn, who was slumped on the ground against the base of a tree. She looked ill.
Frank questioned Myrtle’s sister, “How did you find that place?” He tilted his head to where they’d just come from.
“I chased one of my dogs out here yesterday. You know, my little fat bulldog, Tiny? He led me on a good one, I can tell you. I kept calling him but he wouldn’t come to me, so I ran after him, or tried to. My old legs don’t work so well anymore.” She gave Frank and Abigail a faltering smile. “I was already upset about my pets vanishing the way they were, so I had to follow him and bring him home where he’d be safe. That’s how I stumbled on that slaughter tree.”
“Did you find Tiny and take him home?” By Myrtle’s faint sneer, Abigail assumed she didn’t care for the bulldog much. It was weird one sister loved and collected every animal that found itself near her and the other sister didn’t have a one.
“No…no, I never found him.”
A rare show of compassion from Myrtle, she reached down and patted her sister on the shoulder. “It’ll be all right, Sis. He’s probably just out in the woods playing somewhere. He’ll find his way home, you’ll see.” Myrtle looked up at Abigail and made a mock-dismayed face. Myrtle didn’t like most animals and particularly didn’t like the bulldog. The bulldog hadn’t particularly liked her, either. He was forever trying to bite her and that was one, of many reasons, the two sisters didn’t get along. Myrtle believed Evelyn cared more for animals than for her or anyone else human.
“We need to get my sister home,” Myrtle announced. “She hasn’t been well the last few months. She shouldn’t even be out here in the damp weather.”
“All right. Let’s get Evelyn home,” Frank acquiesced. He helped the woman up from the ground and allowing her to lean against him, propped her up as they all moved towards the house.
The woods were being unnaturally plunged into night, though sunset was yet hours away.
Abigail could hear the animals inside Evelyn’s house long before they walked in the door. She loved animals but Evelyn had way too many. The myriad of smells alone gave Abigail a headache.
She and Frank didn’t stay long after they got Evelyn home again.
“If you need anything, Evelyn, if anything else happens or you have any new troubles, call me,” Frank reassured her. “And in the meantime, I’ll see what I can find out about your animal disappearances and killings and what might be going on. I’ll check with the sheriff’s department and see if anyone else is being targeted, are missing pets, or if anyone else has seen anything suspicious lately outside their homes.”
“Abigail and I will be looking into things, too,” Myrtle butted in. “Between us and Frank we’ll find these witches who are doing these awful things. You can count on us.”
Yeah, we’ll find the witches responsible and then what will we do? Abigail thought ironically. Arrest them? Put a spell on them? Ha. Myrtle is way off base on this one. She’s really fallen off her rocker now.
Abigail was by the door. “Time to go, Frank. The kids will be home from school in a half hour and you know how I like being there for them when they do. I have to start supper, too.”
They gave Myrtle a ride to her new modular home. Abigail was surprised the old woman didn’t invite herself to supper as she usually did, but she only wanted to go home.
In the truck Myrtle was chattering nonstop about the horrendous things bad witches could and did do. The woman really believed in them. Some of the things she rattled on about sent chills along Abigail’s skin. Black witches could and did do terrible things like poisoning peoples’ pets or stealing babies for sacrifice, or putting enchantments on rival witches by sending rats or bees to invade their homes.
“We got to find them,” Myrtle reiterated firmly, “and deal with them.”
“Whoever they are,” Abigail added as they drove up in front of Myrtle’s home.
“I told you…witches!” Myrtle got out of the truck, shaking her head. “I’ll be seeing you guys, soon, I hope. Keep me updated, Frank, if you uncover any pertinent information. And I’ll do the same.” Frank helped her get her wagon from the truck bed and put it on the ground. “Oops, almost forgot Claudia’s umbrella.” She reached back in and picked it up from the rear seat. “I have to be sure to return it to her tomorrow.
“Oh, and it nearly slipped my mind, Abigail, Frank. You should go have a chat with Claudia, the book lady. In her shop this morning she mentioned she’d met a new resident to our little township, Glinda Whitestar, who says she’s a medium and a psychic. Claudia has her business card with a phone number on it. I recollect the address on the card was somewhere on the outskirts of town–on Cherry Lane somewhere–but not the actual address or phone number. You need to talk to Claudia and get them. We should go see Glinda. Maybe she could help us locate those witches…if she’s not a witch herself. Bye now!”
Abigail raised her eyebrows at her husband as they watched Myrtle pull her battered wagon up the driveway, leave it on the side of the house, and go inside.
“Well, that was fun.” Abigail laughed as they drove away in the truck.
“Wasn’t it?” Frank bantered back.
“Okay, I’ve been dying to ask this. Do you believe real witches are behind this? More importantly, do you believe in real witches and e-v-i-l magic?”
“I imagine I shouldn’t believe in all that, Abby. But I have to leave my mind open because I’ve seen things in my life I can’t explain even now. So I never say never. What happened behind Evelyn’s house could be malicious teenagers or disgruntled neighbors out to torment Evelyn because of her animal hoarding and the noise it causes. Over the years, as you know firsthand having lived behind her for three years, she hasn’t made many friends because of it.”
“And people can be so cruel. How well we know that.”
“What Myrtle said about our new townie, the psychic,” Frank said, “the possible witch? Does it seem odd to you she’s moved into town recently and now Evelyn is having these disappearing and dead animal problems?”
“A little odd, I guess. But why jump to conclusions without more justification? Yet I think, as Myrtle recommended, we should introduce ourselves to our new neighbor. Welcome her to the town. Perhaps tomorrow.”
“Scope her out, huh?” Frank slowed the truck down to let a silver Honda Civic out from a side road ahead of them.
“Something like that. That would be the neighborly thing to do, I’d say. I could take her a cake or something.”
“Devil’s food?” Frank grinned.
Abigail shoved her shoulder playfully against his. “Maybe.”
They got home, parked in the driveway and went inside.
Abigail had grown to love living in the cabin out in the forest and only rarely missed her renovated house on the edge of town. She appreciated the serene woods around them which changed with the seasons and was tickled with the wildlife, raccoons, possums and deer, which often came to visit. They made her feel like Snow White out in a storybook forest. She’d made the right decision moving in with Frank when they got married and selling her place. The children had rooms of their own, space to run, and also liked living there. Frank had bought them both new bicycles so they could ride into town whenever they wanted. It wasn’t so far away with the short cuts through the woods he showed them. Soon Laura would be getting her driver’s license and that would help when it came to the kids getting around.
Abigail could hear Frank’s two German Shepherds barking in the fenced yard. They were probably hungry.
Frank went off to feed the dogs and Abigail went to the kitchen to start supper. She and Frank took turns making the nightly meals and tonight it was her turn. Truth was, he was a better cook in so many ways than she was and on her nights she often picked up pizza or other entrees at local restaurants to bring home. Not tonight. On such a rainy chilly day she thought a big pot of chili would be perfect. Chili was easy to make, even she could do it. She gathered the ingredients and began cooking.
Looking out the kitchen window she watched her husband feeding the Shepherds and she sighed with contentment. She was truly happy. She had never thought to be so happy again, not after Joel’s death, but being married to Frank had given her more happiness than she could have hoped for. Now if Myrtle would just stop bringing them weird problems to solve or fix, her life would be just about perfect.
The children came home and a little while later Abigail, Laura and Nicolaus sat down to supper.
Abigail smiled at Nicolaus as she placed a bowl of chili in front of him. The boy was a teenager now and growing so fast she could barely keep him in clothes. He looked more like his real father every day. He’d be tall, she mused, and his flaxen colored hair was slowly turning a darker shade, which was more the color of his sister’s hair. He was smart, scary smart, and was proud of the high grades he worked hard to earn. He had begun to talk about being a scientist someday, perhaps a paleontologist. He loved science, dinosaurs, and was always reading about the extinct creatures on the Kindle they’d given him the previous Christmas. A quiet, neat young boy, he was a good child.
Laura, now seventeen years old, a junior in high school, had gotten better with her art over the last year and Frank and Abigail had been feverishly saving for the art school the girl so wanted to attend after she graduated. Saving the money wasn’t easy, but they wanted Laura to have the education and the chance for a better life; more than her meager childhood would have given her. Laura still worked part-time at The Delicious Circle donut shop and had also been stashing money away for art school while working on winning a scholarship if she could. Between the three of them Abigail was hopeful they could swing it. She knew it would all work out, one way or another, it always did. She and Frank loved the children as much as if they’d been their very own, treated them that way, so they’d sacrifice whatever they had to sacrifice to give them a chance at a better future.
Frank came in from playing with the dogs and joined them at the table. He ate his supper and listened to the kids as they talked about their day. Nicolaus had made a B on a history test and Laura was excited about an art contest at school she was thinking of entering.
When Nicolaus was almost done eating his chili, laced with oyster crackers, he mentioned, “I know it’s October and Halloween is coming and everything but I saw the oddest thing riding home through the woods on my bike.”
Abigail’s attention was caught so she asked, “Like what?”
“I saw this old lady dressed in black, kinda looked like a witch costume, who was running through the woods like something or someone was chasing her. She kept looking behind her and seemed so frightened. I could hear her muttering words I couldn’t make out and she was crying. I called out to her and asked if something was wrong but she ignored me and kept running.”
“It wasn’t Myrtle, was it?” Laura quipped as she got up and began cleaning off the table. It was her turn to do dishes. “She dresses real weird at times, though usually her clothes are a lot flashier than black.”
“No, it wasn’t Myrtle.” Nick spooned the last of his chili into his mouth and handed his empty bowl to his sister to take to the sink. “I’d never seen this woman before. She had long gray hair and looked taller than Myrtle. I just thought it was strange…the way she was crying and running and all. And when I tried to catch up with her on my bike, she ducked behind this big tree and when I rode around it she was just gone.” He snapped his fingers. “Like a puff of smoke. I looked all over for her, but she wasn’t anywhere. Gave me the creeps but I don’t know why.”
Maybe the strange old woman had been one of Myrtle’s shadow witches? Which was a ridiculous thought because there were no mysterious witches, alive or dead, roaming around the woods as Myrtle believed.
“Hmm, interesting. She was probably just an old lady who was in a hurry.” Abigail traded a restrained look with her husband. It said: we’ll talk about this later as well as the other stuff and he nodded. The last thing either one of them wanted to do was scare the kids. They wouldn’t say anything about Evelyn’s disappearing and massacred animals, either. With two dogs and a cat themselves, it would upset them. There was no need for them to know any of it. For now anyway.
*****
It was later that night as she and Frank were sitting on the porch swing, after the children were in bed, that they discussed the day and what it had brought. She’d had a swing at her old house and had wanted one on their porch, so he’d moved the rocking chairs to one end, and made sure she had a swing on the other end. They spent many evenings outside on it and called it their porch therapy. With Myrtle in their lives they often needed it.
The night was the coldest so far, the rain hadn’t returned, but the fog had. It covered the front yard and the surrounding woods like a soft undulating gray blanket. The wind had picked up and had a touch of November to it. Winter couldn’t be far behind.
Bundled up in a heavy sweater and a cap, Abigail held hands with her husband and spoke aloud her thoughts. “I don’t believe in things like black magic and witches, but something strange is going on around here. Even if it’s sadistic teenagers killing Evelyn’s animals, it isn’t right and we need to find out who is behind it and get the police to stop it.
“And the story Nick told us about seeing the old woman running through the woods today who reminded him of a witch…somehow that makes me uneasy, too. It was too coincidental after what we learned from Evelyn and Myrtle and saw in the forest behind Evelyn’s place.”
“I concur.” Frank leaned against the swing’s slats, and stopped their swaying with his feet. “It’s too coincidental. But don’t worry, honey, we’ll get some answers, you can be sure.”
“I know. I only hope there’s nothing supernatural about any of it as Myrtle asserts. As much as she loves her little mysteries and conspiracies, I don’t. I like our lives safe, sane and normal.”
“Hear, hear. I’m with you. I like our life just as it is. Routine and boring.”
“Our life is routine and boring?” But Abigail was smiling in the dark.
“Never, my love. I was teasing. I’ve never been happier than I have been since you married me and you and the children moved in. I’m one lucky man and how well I know it. I just don’t want anything to threaten or change it. I don’t like the thoughts I’m having about what’s happening in Evelyn’s woods and what happened to those poor animals of hers. The truth is, I don’t think it’s random. A feeling I have. There’s something about it that doesn’t say kids’ pranks to me. You start slaughtering innocent animals and there’s a darker thing going on. As an ex-cop I learned early on torturing or slaughtering animals was the first step for most people to becoming killers of humans.”
“Oh, oh. I don’t like hearing that.” Because his feelings were usually dead on.
“I also put in a call to the sheriff’s department about Evelyn’s situation and Sheriff Mearl promised to send a deputy out there first thing tomorrow morning and take a look, file a report. He’s going to ask around town, too, and see if anyone else is missing a pet or found a dead one hanging from a tree. He didn’t seem real happy with the whole thing but he’ll do his job.”
“You know when I first moved here,” Abigail said. “I wasn’t too impressed with the Sheriff, but you know, lately, he actually seems to have learned some life lessons and has become a better person and a better officer. He keeps the town safe or he tries to.”
“That he does.”
“Those photos you took of those nasty twig creatures we found hanging in Evelyn’s tree…do you have someone in mind you’re going to show them to?”
“Not really. I’m still thinking on it.
“Okay, let’s forget about twig people, missing and butchered animals, and shadow witches, and enjoy the evening.” Frank bent over and gently kissed her lips.
Abigail’s cat Snowball had been bouncing about on the porch and in the yard around them and now jumped into her lap. After Frank’s kiss, she petted and hugged the animal. “All right. But I couldn’t bear it if someone abducted, hurt or knocked off Snowball or either of the dogs. As much as I hate being roped into another one of Myrtle’s little problems I do want to find out who’s doing these animal crimes. So we, or someone, can stop them.”
“Me, too.” Frank put his arm around her and brought his hand around her shoulder to pet Snowball, who was purring loudly. “And with that in mind I think we should go pay the new resident psychic in town a visit tomorrow.”
“Glinda Goodwitch you mean?”
Frank laughed softly. “Glinda Whitestar if I remember correctly.”
“Oh, that’s right…Whitestar.”
And they both laughed.
“You know now you’ve mentioned it I just remembered,” Abigail spoke. “Myrtle telephoned earlier tonight while I was making supper. She said she’d called Claudia and got the telephone number and exact address of the new-witch-in-town, as she calls her, from that business card Claudia had. Myrtle gave me the telephone number and the address. Oh, and she wants to come with us tomorrow to interrogate the new psychic witch–another label she’s given Glinda–at the woman’s home, which is also her place of business. Myrtle will be here at ten tomorrow morning, will hike the shortcut through the woods, and wanted to make sure we’d be free to go with her.”
“Really? That old woman is always one step ahead of us, isn’t she?”
“Most times she is.”
“Why does she think we need her to accompany us to see Miss Whitestar tomorrow?”
“Because,” Abigail explained, “Myrtle says she’ll sense if the woman is a real witch and, more importantly, if she’s a good or bad one. Since Myrtle maintains we’ll need to know, either way.” Her laugh was resigned.
“Good grief. Myrtle and her ghosts and now, heaven help us…witches.”
“She’s a character, all right.”
“Then tomorrow at ten the three of us,” Frank capitulated, “will pay a visit on our new neighbor. Are you going to get your fortune read, Abby?”
“I might. If I believe the psychic/medium is half way legitimate.”
“I thought you said you didn’t believe in the supernatural?”
“I don’t. But as I think some people only believe they’re witches, and aren’t necessarily real ones, I’m not one hundred percent sure about psychics. I’ve never met a genuine one so far, but I’m leaving my mind open just in case. And I will take the cake I baked tonight along, though, as a welcome-to-the-town gift for the psychic.”
“You baked a cake tonight?”
“I did. A chocolate one.” She grinned remembering his earlier comment. “I hid it from you all, too. Otherwise it’d be gone.”
“Well, that’s real neighborly of you, honey. It’s a good thing the kids and I didn’t know there was a cake in the house, though, or you’re right, it’d be gone.”
“Don’t I know it. That’s why I baked it in the old oven we have in the basement and left it down there. I’ll ice it first thing in the morning. Perhaps if you’re lucky the psychic will offer you a piece when we’re there.”
“All righty, on that note, wife, I suggest we go to bed and get a good night’s sleep in preparation for whatever faces us tomorrow. You know how Myrtle’s little mysteries seem to often escalate into something a lot bigger.” He stood up and brought her to her feet. The cat hopped down and ran to the door, meowing to be let in.
“Excellent idea, husband.” Standing, she felt his arms come around her as he kissed her again on the lips, but firmer this time. “Let’s go to bed.”
And they did.