The Witch is Dead (32 page)

Sitting at my desk, I picked up the old leather pouch holding my runes and leaned back in the chair. The weight of it
felt good in my hand. I shifted the bag from one hand to the next.

With Gert quitting, I had no choice but to go to the library tomorrow. I groaned. Working the counter would be impossible. The town gossips would be on me like a pack of dogs, all wanting to know about Silas Green, the bodies, Tink’s disappearance. My nerves were strong enough at this time to handle their stares and their questions.

I’d go in early and hide out in my office.

I opened the pouch, and sticking my hand inside, let my fingers play among the cool stones. Suddenly, I felt a tingle on the side of my palm as if I’d touched a hot electrical wire. Running my fingers through the stones, I felt it again. Strange.

Sitting forward, I withdrew my hand and placed the bag on the desk. I unfolded the linen square, emptied the pouch, and closed my eyes as I ran a finger over the runes.

The shock hit me again. Opening my eyes, I looked to see which stone had called to me. By their position, it was impossible to tell.

Leaving my eyes open, I ran my finger across them.Ouch. The shock tingled all the way up my arm. Taking a pen, I flipped the rune over.

Ansuz inverted. Lies, trickery, deceit. The same rune that had appeared earlier in the Celtic cross reading in the “past” position. The runes were making a point—someone from my past was deceiving me, and somehow it was related to Tink’s kidnapping.

Was this the message the fairies had described?

Early the next morning I stood on the library steps unlocking the front door for the first time in days. My car had been returned the prior evening by one of Bill’s deputies and now
sat in its usual parking spot in front of the building. Ha, I thought, it would be like a beacon drawing the curious to the library.

I stepped inside, and all the familiar smells greeted me. Lemon oil, old leather, the funny, kind of musty smell that old buildings have. Taking a deep breath, I paused and drew comfort from the fact that some things never change.

Darci was already here. Spotting me, she smiled, and I felt a tinge of sadness. Her presence here every day would be a change. In all that had gone on over the past couple of weeks, I’d not thought about how soon she’d be starting college.

“Hey, how are you? Did you get any sleep?” she asked.

After strolling to the counter, I shoved my backpack in its regular spot underneath. “Yes.”

“No dreams?”

“No.” I straightened the pens on the counter. “I did think about the rune reading.” I paused, staring off into space. “A funny thing happened. I picked out Ansuz again. In fact, it was almost as if the rune was shouting at me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I felt a shock when I touched it. The rune was inverted, too, just like in the reading.”

“And that means what?”

“Someone’s lying.” I pursed my lips, thinking. “You don’t suppose it could be Ethan, do you?”

Darci snorted. “Are you kidding? That guy’s as straight up as they come.” She thought for a moment. “Do you think the rune is Tink’s message to you?”

“If it is, it’s not clear.” I shook my head. “Do you believe the stuff Aunt Dot said last night about the fairies?”

She lifted one shoulder in a careless shrug. “I don’t know—a couple of years ago I wouldn’t have.” She nudged
me in the ribs. “But after hanging out with you, I’ve seen a lot of things I’d never thought possible.” She tugged on her lip and frowned. “That night at the old cabin in Minnesota when Juliet tried summoning the demon—the black fog that rolled in?” She shuddered. “I never would have believed in something like that. So why not fairies?”

She picked up a book from the stack sitting in front of her. “Would you look at this?” she said with disgust. “Someone’s bent the corners on a bunch of the pages. Honestly.” She carefully smoothed the pages.

Bent corners?

“Let me see that.” I slid the book over and looked at the title.Down the Rabbit Hole —one of our most popular young adult selections.

“Here’s another one. I tell you, people just don’t have any respect anymore.”

I grabbed the stack of books and began flipping them open. Every single one had curled corners, and every single one was a young adult selection.

Grabbing Darci’s arm, I gave it a shake. “Who brought these books in?”

“I don’t know. Gert worked Saturday.”

“They didn’t come from the book drop?”

“No. They were on the counter when I walked in this morning.”

“Are these in our bar coding system yet?”

“No.”

“Who checked them out?”

Darci ran through the card file. “The cards are here, but there’s no date or number on them.” A confused look crossed her face. “I don’t get it. Did someone snitch these, then bring them back?”

“I need to call Gert.”

Darci’s eyebrow shot up. “After last night and the way she huffed out, you’re the last person she’ll talk to.”

I clutched one of the books. “Darci, I have to know who had these books.”

Cocking a hip against the counter, she looked at me in disbelief. “What are you going to do? Fine them for damaging library property?”

“No,” I said, my eyes wide and holding a book up. “This is a message from Tink.”

She snatched one of the books and rapidly turned the pages. “She wrote in them?”

I laid a hand on top of the open book. “No. It’s the curled pages. It’s a bad habit Tink has. Instead of using a bookmark, she turns down the corner. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve talked to her about it.”

“So whoever’s holding Tink took these books?”

I felt my excitement rising. “Sure. Why not? It would be a good way to keep her occupied.” I moved swiftly around the corner of the counter. “I’m going to my office. I’m calling Aunt Dot to ask her if this is the message.”

Grabbing my backpack, I ran down the stairs and into my private office. I picked up the phone and quickly dialed my house. Abby answered on the second ring.

“Abby, may I speak to Aunt Dot?”

“Of course.” She sounded perplexed.

A moment of silence followed as Abby handed Aunt Dot the receiver.

“Hello?” Aunt Dot’s voice shouted in my ear.

“Aunt Dot, did the fairies mention any books?” I asked, and held the receiver away from my ear while I waited for her reply.

“No, no, I don’t think so,” she yelled.

“When you saw Tink in your vision, did you see any books lying about?”

“Ack, I don’t remember. I don’t think so. I just noticed the fairies.”

“Okay, thanks,” I said, feeling a little deflated.

“Do you want me to ask them about books?” she offered.

“Yeah. Put Abby on the—” I stopped, realizing I was speaking to dead air.

Aunt Dot had hung up on me.

Fisting my hands on my hips, I scanned my office. Where had I placed Gert’s file? I rummaged through the piles of paper on my desk. Pages slid to the floor, but I didn’t take the time to retrieve them.Nope, not there. Opening the file cabinet, I riffled my fingers over the folders. I pulled one out and quickly turned the pages. Another sheet fell to the floor. Nothing.

Frustrated, I smacked the folder on top of the file cabinet and moved on to the next drawer. Soon, stacks of papers covered every surface and the floor was littered with random pages.

Okay, this wasn’t working. What next?

I snapped my fingers. Claire. As library board president, she’d have Gert’s number.

My fingers flew over the keypad as I entered Claire’s number. When she answered, I got right to the point.

“I need Gert Duncan’s phone number,” I said quickly.

“I don’t think she’ll want to talk to you,” Claire replied. “She called me about nine, very unhappy, and gave me a real earful about you, Darci, the library. What happened?”

“Claire, I’m sorry she was upset, but I don’t have time to explain now—”

She cut me off. “You have news about Tink?”

“Ah, no, but I do need to speak with Gert.”

Snagging a pen, I rapidly wrote down the number she gave me.

“Thanks.” I hung up before she could ask any more questions.

Before I could dial Gert’s number, the phone rang.

Do I answer and waste more time, or let Darci take care of the caller?

I answered. “Summerset Library.”

“Ophelia?” Aunt Dot hollered in my ear.

“Hi, Aunt Dot. Look, I’m really busy—”

“I thought you wanted to know about the fairies?”

“Well, yes I do. Did they say anything about the books?”

“No, but they said to tell you you’re a very clever girl.” She sounded pleased.

“Umm, well…” I faltered, trying to think of a response. “Tell them thanks.”

I disconnected and stared at the receiver in my hand.Duh, Jensen, what did you expect? You really don’t believe in fairies in the first place.

After punching in Gert’s number, I shifted nervously back and forth on the balls of my feet while I waited for her to answer.

“Duncan’s,” said an unfamiliar voice in my ear.

Must be Mama.

“Hello, Mrs. Duncan, this is Ophelia Jensen.”

“Ophelia Jensen? What do you want?” Her voice dripped ice.

“May I speak with Gert?” I asked, trying to sound chipper.

“After the way you treated her last night?”

“It’s really important, Mrs. Duncan. It’s about the library.”

“Going to beg her to come back, are you?” I heard smugness in her words. “Well, she’ll never work for you again.”

Her receiver slammed in my ear.

Gert hadn’t been kidding when she said Mama was grumpy. Her voice could have frozen the telephone lines. Her voice—funny thing—she didn’t have an accent. One would think after living in Louisiana all those years that she would’ve sounded more southern. If anything, her speech was clipped, as if she came from a state even farther north than Iowa…like Minnesota.

The pieces of the puzzle that had been tormenting me slammed together into one whole picture.

They’d been bold and taken a huge risk that I wouldn’t figure out their game.

They were wrong. I knew who kidnapped Tink, I knew why, and most important, I knew where she was.

Thirty-Five

I tore through the library, passing a startled Darci and almost knocking Edna Walters, walker and all, down.

“Wait!” Darci called after me. “Where are you going?”

I yelled over my shoulder, “Can’t explain now.”

After half running, half sliding down the front steps, I hit the button on my key ring to unlock the car doors. As my hand gripped the handle, an arm snagged me at the waist and whirled me around.

“Ethan, you scared me to death,” I exclaimed.

“Where are you headed in such a hurry, and what trouble are you into now?”

“I’m not in trouble, and I don’t have time to explain. If you want information, you’ll need to come with me.” I opened the car door and flung my backpack behind the driver’s seat.

Without a word, Ethan got in on the passenger’s side.

He gave me a wry look as I pulled away from the curb. “Last time I went with you, I got the butt-chewing to end all butt-chewings.”

“Don’t worry—I think I’ve found Tink.” I paused at the stop sign and turned left. “You were right. Her kidnapping
had nothing to do with Buchanan’s murder. It has to do with the adoption.”

“What adoption? Aren’t you her legal guardian now?” He sounded perplexed.

“No, her uncle, Jason Finch, is, but not long ago his attorney notified us that he was willing to relinquish his rights.”

“Is this the husband of the criminally crazy aunt in Minnesota?”

“Yes. I don’t know how much you know about that story—”

“A little—Bill kind of filled me in on your background.”

“I bet that was a fun conversation,” I said with sarcasm.

He winked. “Maybe not fun, but very interesting.”

“Did he mention the Finches had a small cult?”

“No, no, I think he left that part out.”

“One of the cult members was absolutely devoted to Juliet—Winnie Clark—and she hated Abby and me, especially me. Tried hexing me, locked me in a box, etcetera, etcetera.” I finished with a wave of my hand.

“Pretty cavalier about it, aren’t you?” he asked with a grin.

“I wasn’t at the time, but these things seem to be happening to me a lot lately. I guess a person could get familiar with it.”

Rolling his eyes, he shook his head. “So what about this Winnie?”

“She escaped into the woods during one of Juliet’s spells…” My voice trailed away.

Do I tell him she was trying to summon a demon? Nah.

“Anyway, I’m pretty sure the new employee I hired, Gert Duncan, is somehow mixed up with Winnie.”