| |
“What are you talking about?" I snapped.
"You didn't kiss her goodnight." Henry watched me from his rearview mirror.
Mandy giggled and glanced over her shoulder. It was too dark for her to see my flushed face. I thought of a dozen quick replies but squeezed my lips instead. Henry's comment irked me. He knew I had never kissed a girl and to do it with an audience watching, well, that took more courage than I had and he knew it. Besides, Sabrina had never given me any signs she had wanted me to kiss her. Sure we had spent the day together, but we’d focused on clues leading us to her father. Would I have liked to kiss her? You bet. My heart pounded in my chest thinking about it. Would it have been appropriate, given the circumstances of her father and how recently we had met? No. I swallowed and gazed out the side window. I needed to get to know Sabrina. If Henry wanted to operate that way, let him. I preferred the gentlemanly approach. That’s what Mom taught us.
Henry might have impressed Sabrina tonight with his swagger and smooth talk, but I knew she had more problems than Henry showing interest in another girl. Her father was missing. A sick feeling rose in my gut. Tom Stevens. Something was terribly wrong. I needed to find him and soon. I wanted to go to our shop now, make headway on the case, but I didn’t have the book or keys.
The chupacabras flashed in my mind. Boy, they were ugly creatures. A shiver raced down my spine. Those teammates had come too close changing Henry tonight. Henry had known better than to take those pills. He’d hardly seemed shaken by our attack in the hallway, but an experience so out of the ordinary had to have left him rattled. Was he in denial or much braver than me? I was upset, not so much from the chupacabras trying to have us as an appetizer, but it was the first time I’d used my magic in public. Would those players remember it? What would Sabrina think of me now? Had Mr. Valdez seen me use magic? Fear gripped me like never before. What would the fallout be if they had?
Now, I knew why Gramps called it deadly. How many students were running the night, gathering in a pack? And who started it? Why bring the drug here? I needed to find Tom Stevens. He held the answers or many of them. It had to be the reason he had vanished. Hopefully, tomorrow would bring us closer to finding him, and the top dog, the ringleader of the chupacabras.
Henry pulled into our driveway and left the motor running. He put the Mustang in park and climbed out.
As I twisted out of the backseat, Henry held my stare. “What?”
“Thanks for your help tonight.”
For the first time, I saw the fear in his eyes. I swallowed, glad my hands had stopped shaking. “Don’t mention it.” I meant it. I didn’t want him telling our parents what had happened. Not only would they freak, but I’d be lectured and punished for using my magic in public.
Henry serious face met mine. “I won’t.” He slid back into his car and rolled the window down. “Hey, taking it slow can be magical too.” He winked and grinned.
Our secret was safe for now.
* * *
Sabrina waited at the front door of the magic shop. A sign spanning the windows read, "The Right Magic." I had been running a few minutes late when I drove my motorcycle up and parked it in front of a meter next to the curb. Saturdays parking on the street was free. I hopped off my bike, tucked my helmet under my arm, and fumbled with the keys.
"Sorry, I'm late." A bell dinged on the door as I opened it. Flicking the switch, the fluorescent lights on the ceiling hummed to life. Shelves of magic kits, cards, magic wands, dice, DVD, books, and courses teaching magic filled one wall on one side of the store. In the middle, Mom had created an area devoted to balloons with colors of the rainbow and various shapes. Other sections in the shop included a scarf section, party favors, and one for magician performers having boxes, magician chests, feathered flowers and more. I moved behind the counter and set my helmet on top. I led her along a short hall away from the main store and paused. "To get into the wizard shop, you have to know the secret word and the wall will open."
Her brows creased. "Like abracadabra?" Click! The wall rolled open. The corners of her mouth curved.
"How'd you know?"
"Oh come on. It's so lame. Abracadabra? Really?"
"We're going to have to change the password." I sauntered through, flipping the switch. Lights ignited. The wizard room manifested before us. I loved this place. Jars filled with herbs lined the shelves from floor to ceiling, such as dulse, eryngo, gardenia, and pennyroyal to create peace and harmony or alfalfa, ahnond, oak, and tulips to obtain prosperity. I scanned over aster, balm of Gilead, mistletoe, moonwort, and trillium. Those herbs a wizard used to attract love. At the rate I was going, I’d need bushel.
Long tables were placed in a T shape and allowed wizards to come here and mix their potions. A library was available with spells and others like books titled, "Wizard: How to Survive in Today's World." My parents kept encouraging me to read it, and I wanted to, someday.
The tables housed vials, boxes of candles, matches, mortar and pestle sets, a wooden and ceramic bowl, along with sachets, candle holders, incense burner, and charcoal blocks. On a separate table, next to the wall was a stove to cook any potions, needing heat. Sandalwood scented the room, mixed with hints of mint, lavender, and cedar. It was comfortable in the room, not too cold and not too warm.
The specialty items such as frog bones, beetles, butterfly wings, rabbit’s feet, bird feathers, exotic flower petals, coyote skull and more were nested in glass jars on stacked Turnstile shelves.
The room to me was home. I drew from the calm energy in the air. The muscles in my shoulders eased when I set foot in it.
Sabrina stood in front of the many jars, gazing at them.
I flicked another switch by the back door that led to the outside alleyway. A light brightened the jars and their contents. I thought it made for a spectacular sight, an entire wall bright.
Sabrina pivoted a full circle surveying everything.
I smiled and grabbed a jar of dusting powder. Extending my hand to her, I said, "The book."
She jostled it out of her backpack, joined me at the table, and plopped on a stool.
As a precaution, I lit a white candle for protection against any evil energy that might escape from the book and opened it to the chapter containing the chupacabra. I used an ancient spell Gramps had taught me, dusted powder on the page and held my hands a few inches above the open book. Closing my eyes, I focused on drawing energy deep inside and willing it into my hands. Warmth rushed through my palms and fingers.
Sabrina gasped.
I cut out noises in the room and focused solely on magic. A vortex of energy rose from the page, swirling the powder in a mini tornado. It floated higher. I took a step back and spread my hands growing it.
In my mind, I focused on the last person to have this book, drawing their energies off the pages. The powder formed an individual's face in a 3-D charcoal sketch, taking a couple of minutes to shape. I opened my eyes. It wasn't Tom Stevens, but I knew the person. I pulled back my energy and let the vortex dissipate. I swept the dust away from the book and onto the table top.
"That wasn't my father."
"I know. Let me go back, one more person." I tried again, using fresh powder, and repeated the process. My second attempt proved more successful as the dust formed a man’s face.
Sabrina sucked in air. She whispered, "That's my father."
Her words broke my focus, and the powder fell onto the pages. I shook the book over a nearby garbage can, and I cleaned the tabletop.
"So this does have to do with those creatures." She licked her lips.
"Yep."
"Who was the first guy?" she asked.
"His name’s Ben Muller. He's a friend of Jerry Hadler."
"Isn’t Jerry Hadler the receiver on the football team, we think is a chupacabra."
"Yes."
“Do you think Ben can help us?”
“I don’t know.”
"We need to find him."
"Why?"
"Because he might know where my father is."
I shook my head. "Just because he read the book after your dad did doesn't mean he knows where to find him." I didn't follow her logic. "The book belongs to the public library."
Her shoulders slumped. "Yeah. You're right, but isn’t it coincidental he checked a book out on chupacabra’s, and his friends are taking pills that turn them into one?"
“But we don’t know if that’s the chapter he was reading. All we know is that he was looking at this book.”
She sighed, and bit her lower lip. "So we're back to where we started. We've got nothing. So what if my father read a chapter of this book. It doesn't tell us where he’s at."
I snapped my fingers. "Do you have anything personal of his; a stock of hair, a ring he wore often, or anything connected to his body?"
"Not on me, but I do at home. Why?"
"Because I know of a spell that might lead me to him."
Her eyes widened. "Really?"
The bells on the front door jingled. I frowned. "I thought I locked the door."
Gramps’s voice boomed from the other room. "David. You here?"
I hurried to the opened wall, staring at my grandfather in disbelief. "What the heck are you doing here? You're supposed to be in the hospital."
"I got sprung." Gramps winked ambling over to me.
"Gramps. Shouldn't you—”
"I'm fine. Now we've got work to do." Gramps froze, seeing Sabrina. His thick bushy brows came together. "I didn’t know you had company. What are you two up to?”
She forced a smile. "Have you found out anything to do with my dad?"
"No. Not yet. But we will." He jerked his head to me. "Let's go out into the alley. I wanted to show you how to use the ring for protection."
Like a puppy dog, I trotted after my grandfather behind the store. A parking lot spread across the alleyway. It gave us daylight and space.
"To use this ring, you must block the energy coming at you. Fist your hand and point the silver dragon at the energy." Gramps demonstrated. "Take ten paces."
Sabrina remained in the open doorway watching.
I stepped stiff-legged, pivoted, and faced Gramps.
"Now block my energy." Gramps shot a bolt of lightning at me.
I barely had time to block it with the ring. So powerful, the energy flew me back through the air, and I landed with a thud on the hard concrete on my back. A grunt burst from my throat as I struggled to catch my breath. The ring glowed, and the silver warmed but didn’t burn. I sat up, red-faced.
"Are you okay?" Sabrina asked.
Despite the shooting pains everywhere in my body, I waved at her not to come over. I crawled to my feet. "I'm fine. Thanks, Gramps. I see you’re getting your energy back."
He chuckled. "Sorry, David. I might have used more force than necessary. But you get the idea."
"Yes. I don't need to practice that again." I rubbed my lower back and brushed the dirt off my jeans.
Gramps cell phone rang. "Uh huh. Yep. I see. Okay. I'll be right there." He snapped the cell phone shut. "David. I need you to drive me somewhere."
My shoulders sunk as I turned to Sabrina. "I’m sorry about this. Do you need a ride home?"
"No. I brought my bike. I'll see you later, David."
I followed her into the wizard store where she placed the book in her bag, and then to the front. I had wanted to spend the morning with her, but apparently, duty came first. I shadowed her outside to her bike. “I’ll give you a call after detention.”
She nodded. “Do you have my cell number?”
“No.”
While she rattled it off, I punched in her number in my phone contact list.
She waved and peddled away.
Returning inside the shop, I found Gramps leaning against the counter, deep in thought. He remained quiet. I couldn’t tell if the wrinkles around his eyes and lips said more about me liking Sabrina or his concern for Tom.
"Let me lock the shop, Gramps. Then we can get going."
He gave a sharp jerk of his head in agreement.
I shut off the lights in the wizard room and closed the wall. Grabbing my helmet, I locked the door. Gramps dropped a set of keys in my hand and pointed to his black Ford Escape parked in front of my motorcycle. I used the electric lock to open the doors and slid into the driver’s seat. I adjusted the seat and mirrors and jabbed the key into the ignition. "Where are we going?"
Gramps clicked on his seatbelt. "Let's get on the Interstate heading south. We’re going to a goat farm."
"Okay. And why are we going there?"
"Because the owner found many of his goats on the farm killed overnight, and their blood sucked dry."
I raised my brows. Fifteen minutes and we reached a rural section of the county. Several miles down the road I found a graveled driveway, motored up to an old farmhouse. The two-story home sat on a knoll. Much of the paint had peeled off, exposing silver shades of weather-worn bare wood. The roof sagged on the wraparound porch. Dormers jutted out on the second level, and yellow curtains brightened their windows. A senior man wearing overalls, flannel shirt, and worn brown boots hobbled over to us. He had stubbles of white whiskers on his jaw and upper lip. His cobalt eyes peered at us with suspicion.
Gramps shook the man's hand. "I'm Ashir Finkleman. I work for Federal Bureau of Investigations." He pulled out his plain business card.
"I'm Bill Postman." He frowned. "Why would the FBI come here because of goats getting killed?"
"We have to check out anything strange and unusual," Gramps said. "This here is my assistant, David."
I forced a smile.
“He’s mighty young to be working for the FBI.” Bill nodded toward me.
“He works part-time for the agency as my driver. Can you show us the goats?" Gramps asked.
The stank of goat manure combined with their rotting corpses wafted through the air. The overwhelming stench was a ripe, pungent aroma of death. In a pen of no more than a quarter of an acre and scattered about, laid ten goats; their bellies swelled, eyes bulging, and legs stiff. My nostrils flared, yet I tried not to breathe.
"Get the camera out of the glove box and bring it here." Gramps pointed to the car.
I jogged back to the SUV, gasping for fresh air, and snatched the digital camera that fit in the palm of my hand. Returning, I snapped photographs in rapid succession before giving it to Gramps.
Crouching by one of the goats, I pried up its head with a stick. The animal’s throat had been ripped open, and blood drained from its body, but not a drop had made it to the ground. The meat of the animal was left intact.
"Did you hear anything last night to indicate the goats were being attacked?" Gramps asked.
"It was strange. We have coyotes running this area and howling when they’re attacking, especially in a pack. But last night we heard nothing. It's as if the animals slipped in and out without making a sound."
"Didn’t you hear the goats crying?"
"At two in the morning several of them were restless, but for something as savage as this, they should have been crying in unison, and they didn't." Bill Postman shook his head.
Next to one of the animals, I spotted a clump of fur, similar to dog hair and brown, different from the goat’s dead on the ground. Using my handkerchief, I gathered it and shoved it in my pocket. The hair might connect me to the culprits who attacked, whether it be a dog, coyote, or Chupacabra.
"Have you talked to the Sheriff yet?" Gramps asked.
"No. We've been waiting for him."
Gramps sighed. "I think an animal did this. I don't believe that it's a national security risk." Gramps turned to me. "Ready, David?"
I was more than ready, my stomach struggling to keep down the Captain Crunch cereal I’d had for breakfast. I beat Gramps to the car, slid into the driver’s seat, and had the motor running before he clicked in his seatbelt. It was quiet as we drove away. "I found fur by one of the dead animals and it’s not goat hair. Thought we could use it to determine the identity of who killed those goats."
"Sounds like a plan."
"But first, I have to go to school."
"On a Saturday? What for?"
"Detention."
"What teacher gave you detention?"
"Otto. My chemistry teacher. The guy has it in for me. I don't know why. I'm one of his best students."
"Does your mom and dad know?"
"No."
"If you’re having problems with your teacher, you should tell your parents." Gramps brought his bushy brows together.
“Yeah, well, I’ll think about it.” I knew if I told my parents I’d lose my magic privileges. So, if I had to tolerate Otto to practice magic, so be it.
We returned to the store, and I groaned seeing my parent’s car parked out front. "Great. Now they're going to ask me where I'm going."
"Not to worry. I'll distract them."
"Thanks, Gramps. But, they're not going to be happy that you discharged yourself."
He rubbed the back of his neck. "Not much they can do now, is there?"
I snickered and climbed out of the car. I loved my grandpa. Fitting my helmet on, I threw a leg over my motorcycle and revved it. Checking traffic, I made a U-turn and drove to the high school.
***
Otto checked his cell phone as I entered the Commons area. I joined a few other students, including Tina. She forced a smile at me and rolled her eyes toward Otto. She hated the man as much as I did.
"Almost late, Finkleman," Otto spat. Dark bags hung under his eyes.
I sat next to Tina. The area was quiet, and the lack of kids moving through here seemed weird. I faced the showcase of awards encased in glass. The Magic Club didn’t have any to display.
"Where are your books?" Otto asked.
I swiveled in my chair. "I didn't know I was supposed to bring them." This was my one and only time I had to go to detention. Okay. The first time in high school.
Otto released an exaggerated sigh as if I was the imbecile of the school. "What did you think you'd be doing here?"
"I thought we'd pass the time chatting."
"Then here." He slammed a paper on the table in front of me. "I wrote a new test for you. Take it. We'll see if you cheated or not."
I borrowed a pencil from Tina, because besides my books, I also didn't bring a pencil, pen, paper, or afternoon snack. I had considered bringing them, but I had to protest somehow. I didn't cheat. Otto knew it, but he gave me detention anyway. It sucked!
I scanned the questions, which were easier than the ones he had given us on the first test. Maybe in his groggy state of mind, this was the best he could do. I scribbled my answers, finishing the test in a record time and handed him back the paper.
Otto eyed me, snatching the test from my hands and knocking his pocket-sized notepad with a spiral top off his table. I picked it up for him. The lime green notepad flashed at me like a shiny beacon, calling to me to remember something. He seized the notebook from my hands and pitched it aside. Grabbing his red ink pen, he read my answers.
I returned to my seat, faced him in my chair, unable to suppress a broad smile at his inability to mark my paper. He tossed his pen on the table and rubbed his face with his hands.
"I told you I didn't cheat." I crossed my arms over my chest, stretching my legs out in front of me.
"The jury's still out on that one." Otto jabbed his finger at me. "You know Finkleman; you should try to be more like your brother."
I ground my teeth, flexing my nostrils. Otto’s comment was a skipping record. I got compared to Henry, always coming out on the short end. But I had one thing Henry didn’t, and never would, magic, true-blue, energy out of the fingertips, moving objects through the air, magic. It defied the laws of physics, but I had the gift. Unfortunately, no one knew. So compared to Henry, I was a loser.
Otto continued. "He's got brains and bronze. He's a leader of the pack."
"You mean a six pack?"
“I mean the leader of the pack, the alpha dog.”
"Well, I for one wouldn't mind breeding with your brother." Tina giggled.
Why did it not surprise me? Henry was the alpha, and I was the Omega. "Can I go now?"
Otto frowned or, at least, I thought he frowned. I couldn’t tell with those jowls and bushy brows. "Why would I let you go? You just got here."
I leaped to my feet; my arms spread wide. "But I passed the test. I proved I didn't cheat."
"Sit." He pointed his finger down. "Sit there and don't say a word for the next hour. Can you do that?"
No. I couldn’t. I flopped into a chair, turned my back to Otto, clamped my lips together, crossed my arms over my chest, and tapped my foot on the floor.
Heat rushed to my face, and I clenched my teeth. Many adjectives flew through my mind, words describing Otto. I proved to him I hadn’t cheated, and it had been Hadler instead. Gee, big surprise! So why was I the one sitting here? I had to find Tom Stevens and who was selling Canis. Tom was probably dying. I dragged air in through my nose and released it slowly, but nothing helped. Okay. Be productive. Think. The two football players had changed into the creatures when I pissed them off, having no control over changing. Their clothes evaporated with magic, confirming the pills were made with magic.
When I had pissed Kyle and Chad they hadn’t changed. So either they hadn't taken the pills recently or something else triggered the transformation.
How many kids were taking them? Hadler and Baxter were given their performance on the football field last night, but who else? None of Hadler’s gang would tell me a thing, and it might not lead me to Tom anyway. Maybe I needed another approach. Once Sabrina brought me a personal item from her father, I could locate him with a spell. I wasn't particularly good at this type of wizardry, but what other choice did I have? I kept hitting roadblocks. And as the minutes ticked away more kids took the drug.
Tom Stevens had the key to unlocking this mystery. I had to track him and go from there. Jabbing my fingers in my pocket, I curled them around the handkerchief and squeezed. The fur I had found at the goat crime scene had slipped my mind. Maybe it would lead me to a clue or Tom. Hope resonated with me for the first time today.
But first, I had to get through detention, which required patience and time.
Both I greatly lacked.
