After a day of trying to figure out what I would say to Conri, I left the store right at closing time and drove straight to the veterinary clinic. It was closed. I drove to Conri’s house. If I had been fully awake and not running solely on caffeine and willpower, I might have rethought the decision to go to confront a dark magician at his home, but I was beyond desperate for answers now.
I parked across the road, approaching the door as though I was walking into a trap.
You’re doing the right thing, I thought. I wasn’t sure if the knots writhing in my stomach meant I was right, or just the opposite.
I knocked sharply. The sound sent a dog into a flurry of barking. Conri’s voice came from inside, trying to quiet the animal before he opened the door.
I sure didn’t expect the first thing I thought when I saw him to be “I have seen you completely naked.”
His expression told me I was the last person he expected or wanted to see.
He stood in the doorway, taking up most of the space. He didn’t invite me in. A huge long-eared red dog stood behind him, silent now, but still curious as to who this visitor was.
“I think we need to talk,” I said, still not able to make eye contact with him. He stepped sideways and motioned for me to come inside before closing the door behind us. He still hadn’t said a word.
The dog sniffed around my feet, obviously fascinated by the scent of Hemlock and who knew what else it could pick up on my clothes. “Russet, get back,” Conri ordered the dog.
“It’s fine, I like dogs,” I said. I patted Russet’s head, and he shied away for a moment before giving in to the affection and offering me a friendly lick in return.
Conri’s house was wide open, filled with light. I liked it instantly, though maybe it was too well decorated, something I wouldn’t have expected a man like him to be capable of without the help of a wife or girlfriend. Was that another secret he was harboring?
I followed him into the kitchen. He leaned against the side of the counter, his arms folded, his focus on his dog. A normal person would have offered me coffee or something—at least a glass of water. But this was hardly a normal situation.
It was best to get right to it.
“Last night, in the woods,” I started.
“You’re a witch,” he said gruffly. “You never mentioned that.”
How did he get to be angry at me for keeping secrets? And what did he know about my moon ritual? It wasn’t like it was real magic. I wasn’t here to talk about my own life, though.
“And you’re a…” I trailed off, leaving a space for him to fill in the gaps.
“Very private man,” he said.
Russet, apparently satisfied he had sniffed every inch of my shoes and legs, made his way outside to the yard by way of a dog door. It flapped shut, sealing Conri and me alone together.
“You were doing magic,” I said. “I’ve seen your talisman. I know you’ve bought hex herbs from Jacques’s Nursery. And the other night, you were clearly in some kind of spell trance.”
“I have connections with the supernatural, yes,” he said. His arms were still folded, and he was staring at a random spot on the slate tiles.
“You said you wanted to get to know me better. You said you like me, or was I imagining that?”
“No,” he said morosely.
“Then I need to know who you are. I’m a very private person too. We all have our secrets. I’m not asking you to bare yours. I just want to know what I’m dealing with here before I go and get caught up in any trouble.”
“Then maybe you should walk away now,” he said.
“Is that what you want?”
Conri didn’t say anything.
“Are you a witch?”
“No,” he said with an exasperated sigh. “I’m not a witch. But you are, so you should know there are different types of magics.”
“I might not know exactly what that ritual was, but I know a dark spell when I see one,” I said.
“Oh, you do, do you?” His voice was louder now. “Well, maybe there are some things about magic you don’t know.”
I couldn’t let on how right he actually was about that.
“And what about you? What was the spell you were doing? How do I know it wasn’t some evil brew you were cooking up?”
“It was a moon cleanse, a forest bathing meditation for destressing, if you must know. It wasn’t magic.”
“And this is something you do often? What sort of dirty trouble are you caught up in that you need to cleanse like that? See? We can all get suspicious, Belinda.”
Every fiber in my body tensed as hot anger welled.
“Fine, you want honesty?” I said through clenched teeth. “I am a hot mess right now, and I’ll tell you why. I’ve got a big scary past I thought I’d left behind, knocking on my door, screwing with me, scaring me. Plus, you know Kenny Langdel? Well, he didn’t die of a stroke or a heart attack or whatever they’re saying. He was murdered with a death curse, one I’ve seen in action before. And anyone who might know something about it is happy to look the other way. It might be connected, it might not be connected. And now that I find out you’re ordering hex herbs from a witch and up to weird nude magic in the forest at night, it’s hard not to bring that into the puzzle too. So what’s a person to do?”
“Death curse?” he said, an eyebrow raised.
I nodded. “Doesn’t that bother you?”
Conri shrugged. “Not my business,” he said.
“Not your business?” I shrieked. “It is your business. Someone was killed, in your town, and you’re a suspect.”
“A suspect? So, that’s another secret, then? You’re a detective too?”
“No. I was… I mean, I’ve just been trying to find some information, just to help. Someone needs to stand up for what’s right.”
“And what are you going to do when, or if, you find this apparent killer? Which isn’t me, by the way, not that you’re going to believe that. Are you going to run out and accuse someone of murder in Main Street? Or do you only ever do that by turning up at people’s homes uninvited?”
“I’m not here to talk about my role in this,” I said.
“No, you’re here to pry into my business, but not wanting to give up any of your own.”
Russet came back into the kitchen, tracking paw prints over the tiles. He dropped something muddy on the floor between us and stared up at me, his eyes bright, smiling and wagging his tail and waiting for thanks for the gift he had brought his master and new best friend.
I stared down at the thing. It was a doll. And not just any doll by the looks of it; it was a poppet.
I bent down to pick up the dirty dolly. It was crudely sewn, patched together with bits of fabric and roughly embroidered eyes. It was clumsy, probably made quickly, but with that little stitched-on soul patch and checked shirt, there was no mistaking who it was supposed to represent.
“Got an explanation for that?” I said.
“What is it?” he asked.
“This is a poppet of Kenny Langdel,” I said. “And I would bet everything I have that this is the effigy used to seal the Mortis curse that killed him.”
I looked up at Conri. Our eyes locked.