“The crime scene investigation team visited each house on Peabody Street and found a couple of strange similarities at all the places,” Blake said. “First, there were strange symbols drawn in chalk somewhere on each house.”
I nearly choked and looked at Jake. “Did you know this?”
“If I did, I would have never left Bea alone for a second. The photos came back with them on the houses or on the property somehow.” Jake clenched his jaw. “You can bet we’d be having a completely different discussion had I known about this earlier. It would probably be me behind those bars instead of your aunt, because I would have killed someone.”
I nodded before patting Jake’s hand.
“They don’t make any sense to anyone here,” Blake said, but when he slid the pictures over to me, I thought they looked familiar. Although they weren’t exactly like the one Cedar had scribbled outside Bea’s house, they were close enough. If I’d had to guess, I’d have said these symbols drew some kind of negative energy to each residence in order to get the people to carry out their ugly deeds. I told the guys as much.
“We also found a couple small footprints—women’s size. We are pretty sure we know who they belong to and shouldn’t have a hard time confirming that,” Blake continued. But then he smiled at me. It was one of those confident, all-knowing smiles that I thought were so handsome.
“And?” I asked.
“We’ve got a fingerprint. Actually, we’ve got over a dozen fingerprints from the same person at each house,” Blake said. “After talking to the Stortzes, I found out that although the neighbors all knew each other, they didn’t ever go to each other’s houses.”
“Good fences make great neighbors,” I replied.
“So the fact that there was a set of prints that didn’t match any of the residents was an amazing clue,” Blake said before looking up at his partner.
“And we ran that print through the database and, after a few days, got a hit,” Jake said.
“Cedar Kolowonski,” Blake replied.
“What? I thought her name was Cedar Lott,” I said. “That’s what it said on the business card that she gave me.”
“Oh, she’s got quite a few aliases,” Jake said.
“What’s she been busted for?” I asked. This was not the turn of events I had expected the case to take.
“That’s the real interesting thing,” Blake said. “She’s been busted for public indecency for performing some kind of ritual in the nude in a park in Chicago. Death threats and violating a protective order. Harassment. Animal cruelty. And she was arrested, charged, and did time for kidnapping a pregnant woman, who was found, three days after her disappearance, locked in the basement of a house that was vacant and for sale.”
“I don’t believe it,” I gasped.
“Now our problem is finding her,” Jake said.
“She’s not at the Gingerbread House?” I looked at Blake. “She’s probably out looking for Sheila. It’s getting later and later by the minute. Soon enough, the sun will start to come up. Remember they said she can’t stay out past dawn.”
“Stake out the house?” Blake asked Jake.
“She has no idea she left something so traceable at each scene.” I looked from one guy to the other.
“Sounds good. I want you and Bea and the animals to stay here. No matter what happens,” Jake instructed. “I don’t want to worry about Bea and the baby while I’m trying to make a bust. And just for the record, I—”
Just then, a huge crash shook the entire police station down to the foundation. Earthquakes didn’t happen in Wonder Falls. But pictures fell from the walls, the metal file cabinets rattled, and the blinds on the windows shook. In a flash, Jake was off to check on Bea. I turned to Blake, and suddenly we heard a scream from the cells. It was Aunt Astrid, and she was in trouble.
Blake ran ahead of me, grabbing one of the uniformed officers on duty who had a key for the holding cells on him. In between the sounds of panicked footfalls and shouting, I managed to hear Blake tell the man to get the door open. As soon as he did, he stepped aside for Blake to charge in. I was right behind him but stopped, terrified to take another step forward when I saw Blake’s face.
Was Aunt Astrid dead? Was she hurt? Without taking my eyes off Blake, I walked to his side and carefully peered into the cell. I didn’t know what to think of what I saw. The entire outer wall, which had held the barred, unbreakable window, was not just broken. It was missing entirely. And so was Aunt Astrid.
“Where do you think they’d take her?” Blake whispered.
“You don’t think maybe she did this? Maybe she wanted to join them so badly she busted her way out of here?” I asked, staring at the crumbled bits of concrete and bent iron sticking out of what was left of the wall.
“No. I don’t. I think that thing we saw outside—you know, Sheila? I think this is the fun she wanted to have that Cedar was talking about,” Blake said.
Just when I had thought Aunt Astrid was safe to wait out the storm, the rug was yanked out from under me. Now that I knew the truth about Cedar Kolowonski—that she was a crackpot, third-rate necromancer who was so bad at her craft that she had a police record—I was furious. She’d dug up some ancient witch for a satanic wedding with an interdimensional thing no one had heard of in a million years and was using my aunt to accomplish it. If Aunt Astrid was going to put together any wedding, it was going to be mine.
“If that’s true,” I said, “I think she’ll take her back to the Gingerbread House.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” Blake said. “Are you ready?”
I nodded just as I heard Bea shouting at Jake. “Jake, my mom was down here!”
I rushed over to her. “She’s not here, Bea. They took her,” I said quickly. “But it’s under control. Blake and I will go get her. You stay here.”
All the cats circled around Bea and me.
“I can’t leave my mom,” Bea said, looking terrified.
“Bea, you are a mom. And you have to think of what a mom would do.”
I saw the shift in her eyes as she realized I was right. She squared her shoulders and nodded.
Before she could say anything else, a slew of uniformed cops came down the hallway. All of them were shocked at what they saw. Only a couple had known Aunt Astrid was there, and when they asked about it, Jake handled it.
“This is some kind of kidnapping,” he said, and he wasn’t lying.
Blake took my hand and pulled me through the crowd of cops that had gathered. Treacle came with us, while Marshmallow and Peanut Butter stayed with Bea. She and the baby would need their strength and protection.
“How do we do this?” Blake asked me.
“Well, I’m not sure,” I began as we carefully went outside. I looked everywhere for any sign of Sheila, but I saw nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing stepping from the shadows. Nothing grinning at us with huge, shiny, square teeth. “Are we bringing backup?”
“Not at this point,” Blake said as we got in the car.
“You don’t think that something that could punch in the window to the holding cell of your police station is something we might want to call backup for?” I sighed. Treacle hopped in and stretched out calmly in the back seat. “You don’t look worried either,” I said to the cat.
“They think Aunt Astrid is under their control,” Treacle purred.
“Is there something you know that I don’t?” I asked him as Blake began speeding in the direction of the Gingerbread House.
“No. But we both know Astrid. That should be enough.” His tail flipped wildly.
Treacle was right. My aunt wasn’t easily fooled. Once they told her what she was there for, she’d come to her senses. She had to have heard what I’d said. Right? My aunt had to know I’d never lie to her. She had to know that. No matter what Cedar or Sheila said or what kind of spell they cast over her, Aunt Astrid had to know.