The Trouble With Witches (30 page)

"You what?"
I gave her shoulder a small shake.

"I killed Duane Hobbs. I—I didn't mean to. It… just happened." Her eyes filled with tears. "He tried to hurt me."

I released
Tink
and pulled both hands through my hair.

I didn't know how to handle this admission. Do I march her back to the Finches and call the sheriff, or what? I was in over my head.

"Come on." I grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the cabin.

Once there, I flung the door open and yelled, "Abby?"

"Out here," she replied from the deck.

I hurried
Tink
across the room, out the doors, and onto the deck.

Abby sat at the patio table with several old books spread before her. Her reading glasses were perched on her nose. She took one look at
Tink
and shoved the books aside.
"
Tink
.
What is it, my dear?" she asked, her face alarmed.

"Where's
Darci
?" I asked, propelling
Tink
toward the table.

Abby's eyes traveled to me.
"Melcher.
She went to the grocery store."

I pulled out a chair. "Sit," I said to
Tink
, pointing at it. Turning my attention to Abby, I joined them at the table. "Abby,
Tink
has a confession." My eyes slid over to the girl. "Go ahead; tell Abby what you told me."

Tink
looked first at Abby and then at me. "I killed Duane Hobbs," she said in a small voice.

Abby's hand flew to her face. "Oh, my dear," she exclaimed. "I think you'd better start at the beginning."

Tink's
gaze fell to her lap. "I was down by the lake when Duane found me. He started yelling at me, told me I'd better quit spying on him." Fear flitted across her face. "I was so scared. He grabbed me and shook me…" Her voice became hushed. "And then I killed him."

Oh brother, I thought, sitting back in my chair. This kid was lying through her teeth.
But why?

Crossing my arms, I fixed my eyes on her. "How did you kill him?"

She looked up quickly. "I don't remember," she said as she raised her hand to her mouth and began to chew on her thumbnail.

"
Tink
, how can you not remember how you killed someone?"
I asked.

She dropped her hand and glared at me. "I can't, okay? I must have gone kind of crazy when he started shaking me. Next thing I know, he's dead."

"What did you do after that?"

She lowered her eyes. "I pushed him in the water."

Cocking my head, I watched her. "That's it? You killed him and dumped him in the lake?"

"Yeah," she replied, her voice defiant. "Now are you going to turn me in, or what?"

I leaned forward in surprise. "You want us to call the sheriff?"

"Yes," she whispered.

"Did you tell Jason or Juliet about Duane?" I asked.

"No." She picked at her thumbnail. "They would try and hide it. But that's not right. I deserve to be punished."

My eyes met Abby's from across the table.

Tink
lifted her head and saw the look. She shoved back the chair and sprang to her feet. "You don't believe me, do you?"

I shook my head. "No, I don't."

"I don't know why not." She hugged herself tightly. "If I said I killed him, I killed him."

"No,
Tink
." I let out a long breath. "The sheriff is going to want to know where, how, and why. And you say you don't remember."

"I don't remember." She paced away from the table. "I don't remember killing my mother, either, but everyone believes that I did, so—"

"Wait a second," I broke in. "Did someone tell you that you killed your mother?"

She clenched her hands at her side. "No. But I'm not stupid. I've heard them talking about my mother. I know what they think."

"Who did you hear talking?"

She gave me an angry look.
"Everybody.
Jason, Juliet, Winnie. They all think I'm crazy."

"Come over here,
Tink
," Abby said, holding out her hand.

Silently,
Tink
went to Abby and took her hand.

"Now please sit down, and let's talk about this." she said without releasing
Tink's
hand as the girl sat next to her. She leaned forward, her eyes never leaving
Tink's
face. "We don't think you're crazy,
Tink
. We think you're a remarkable young lady, and a very brave one," she added gently. "You're so brave that you're willing to take the blame for something you didn't do. You're trying to protect someone." She paused. "Who is it,
Tink
?"

Tink
dropped her head and studied Abby's hand, holding hers. Tears rolled down her face. "Walks
Quietly
," she said in a hushed voice. "I know he didn't kill Duane, but the sheriff's going to think he did." She lifted her head. "I heard Winnie talking to Juliet about it. Everybody knows he hated Duane 'cause Duane killed his wife."

Abby reached over and wiped
Tink's
tears away. "But if Walks Quietly is innocent?"

Tink
sniffed. "It won't matter. They're all scared of him and they're going to use this to send him away."

"So you thought if you confessed, you could save him?" Abby reached in her pocket and handed
Tink
a handkerchief.

"Yeah.
I figured I'm a kid," she said, taking the handkerchief and wiping her face. "And if the sheriff thought it was in self-defense, they wouldn't send me to prison, or anything."

"But
Tink
, if your plan worked, it would mean a killer would go free." Abby squeezed her hand.

Tink
shook her head. "I don't care. I don't want Walks Quietly to pay for something he didn't do."

"Maybe we can help you," I said.

Her eyes darted to me and she looked skeptical.
"How?
You're here on vacation. What do you know about finding a murderer?"

"
Ahh
," I stammered. "In the past, I've had a little experience catching killers."

Tink's
head jerked back.
"Yeah?
Like what?" she said, disbelief in her voice.

"Never mind," I said. "The truth is we're not on vacation, we're here to find out what happened to Brandi Peters."

Tink's
face twisted in disgust. "I didn't like her. I was glad when she left."

I leaned forward. "Why didn't you like her?"

"She was always flouncing around, acting like she was better than everyone else. And she never wanted to do her chores," she said, her tone derisive. "Winnie
hated
her. I heard Winnie complaining to Juliet about Brandi."

"What did Winnie say?"

Tink
shrugged. "Not much. She was tattling on Brandi for sneaking out." She released Abby's hand and sat back. "How does Brandi leaving have anything to do with Duane Hobbs?"

"I don't know. But I think Duane might have known something about Brandi. Maybe that's why he was killed."

She looked at me carefully. "Does Winnie know why you're here?"

"Probably.
We told Juliet yesterday."

Tink
nodded. "Then she knows. Juliet tells Winnie everything." She gave a little snort. "Guess they won't be trying to convince you to join the group after all."

"What do you mean?"

"They wanted you to help them with the research Jason's always talking about. I heard them say you were psychics."
Tink
scooted her chair closer to the table. "Are you?"

"
Ahh
."
I looked at Abby.

She gave me a slight nod.

"Yes."

"Ha, I bet Juliet and Jason are so jealous of you." Her face took on a satisfied smirk.

"Why would they be jealous?"

"They want to be psychic so bad. They practice all the time."

"What about you? Do you want to be psychic?"

Tink
picked at her thumbnail again. "No."

Abby looked at
Tink
sympathetically. "Sometimes we don't get a choice. We are what we are. And we're given the gift for a reason."

Tink
stood up. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Why not?"

Her pale face screwed up in a frown. "I don't like all this psychic stuff, that's why.
Hearing voices, feeling cold spots, seeing shadows that aren't there.
It's crazy."

Tink
was a medium. Astonished, I glanced at Abby, but she ignored me.

"Do
you
see shadow people,
Tink
?" Abby
asked,
her face serious.

Tink
squirmed under Abby's watchful eye and lowered her head. Her hair fell like a curtain around her face, masking her expression. "No," she mumbled.

The hum of a passing boat floated up from the lake. A squirrel rustled the pine boughs next to the deck. No one spoke, and the minutes ticked by.

Tink
finally cracked under the weight of Abby's gaze and began pacing back and forth. Abruptly stopping, she cast an angry look at Abby. "What if I do? It doesn't mean they're right, it doesn't mean I'm crazy."

Unruffled by
Tink's
outburst, Abby motioned for her to resume her place at the table. "You're right, you're not crazy. You've been given a gift few people have. You have the ability to help lost souls."

"You mean like Duane?"
Tink
made a face. "Gross. I didn't like him."

Abby chuckled. "We'll talk about helping people we don't like later, all right?" Her voice dropped to a gentle, reassuring pitch. "
Tink
, do you have your necklace?"

"Yeah."

"May I see it?" Abby asked quietly.

"I suppose."
Tink
leaned back in her chair and reached in her pocket. Drawing out a small pouch, she laid it on the table.

Leaning forward, but not touching the pouch, Abby slipped on her reading glasses and studied it.
"Interesting."
She pointed to the quill design on the flap. "Did Walks Quietly make this for you?" she asked, taking
Tink's
hand.

Tink
nodded.

"Do you know what the design means?"

"No."

"Would you mind slipping it out of the pouch for me,
Tink
?"

Tink
picked up the pouch and shook the necklace out onto the table. The silver web with its dark red stone sparkled in the sunlight.

Without releasing
Tink's
hand, Abby closed her eyes and passed her other hand over it several times. "Just as I thought," she said with a shudder. "How do you feel when you wear the necklace,
Tink
?"

Her mouth tightened in a frown.
"Like I'm walking around in some kind of fog.
It gives me the creeps."

"Would you like me to change that for you?"

A wary look crossed
Tink's
face.
"How?"

Abby winked. "I have my ways," she said, and squeezed
Tink's
hand.

Tink
rolled her eyes.

"You don't have a lot of trust, do you, kid?" I asked.

"Why should I?"
Tink
shot back. "I don't know you and your grandmother."

"You're right. You don't. But when you look at Abby, what do you see? What do you feel?"

Tink
tilted her head and gazed at Abby with a speculative look, all the time holding tight to Abby's hand. "I see mountains.
Women in log houses.
People asking the women for help.
A garden with lots and lots of plants."
She narrowed her eyes. "Peace.
And the air around her kind of sparkles."

"Hey, that's pretty good for a kid," I said, nodding my approval.

She gave me a cheeky glance. "
Wanna
know what I see when I look at you?"

"No thanks."

Last thing I needed was a reading from a budding psychic and medium.

Abby jiggled
Tink's
hand to catch her attention. "Do you want me to fix the necklace so it isn't creepy?"

"Okay." Her tone sounded unconvinced.

"Ophelia, would you come and stand behind
Tink
, while I get some supplies out of the cabin," she said rising, but not letting go of
Tink's
hand.

I gave Abby a perplexed look. "But—"

She nodded toward her hand holding
Tink's
, and I understood. Abby was using her energy to protect the girl from whatever was imprinted on that necklace. If she let go of her hand,
Tink
would start feeling "
creeped
out" again.

I crossed to stand behind
Tink
and gently laid my hand on the girl's shoulder. She looked up at me with a question in her eyes, and I gave her a vague smile. At the same time, I tried to keep the wisps of energy I felt from the necklace at bay.

In a moment Abby returned with her salt and a small bundle of herbs wrapped tightly together. She made a thin circle of salt around the necklace. When finished with the salt, she brought a lighter out of her pocket and lit the bundle of herbs. Soon the air was filled with the aroma of burning sage. Abby wafted the smoking bundle over the necklace.

Later I would swear my eyes never left the necklace. Maybe they did, maybe they didn't. I don't know. But I do know while Abby sent the purifying plumes of smoke over the necklace, the sparkling silver became tarnished, almost gray. But the change in the metal wasn't the most bizarre thing that happened. No, what freaked me out the most was the spider that suddenly appeared through the smoke and crawled across the necklace.