“Why didn’t you mention that straight away?”
“You didn’t ask.”
Cade’s bright blue eyes narrowed, for the first time since I’d met him losing some of their trademark warmth as they beheld me. In fact, if I didn’t know better, I’d say he was regarding me with the same shrewd suspicion he used on criminals in the interrogation room, the intensity cutting as a blade. I didn’t blame him. I wasn’t so obtuse that I couldn’t see how odd all of this looked to an outside observer. How coincidental. EvenIwould think I was guilty, seeing the scene from a birds’ eye view.
“When did you last see her alive?” Cade asked.
“Yesterday. Wait, no — the day before yesterday.”
“Which was it? Yesterday or the day before?”
Fighting off a shiver, I wrapped my arms around my torso and hugged myself to keep warm. My bare arms and exposed midriff might’ve been fine while I was running, but my core temperature had long since returned to normal. I was officially freezing. “The day before,” I said firmly. “Our front yards abut. We bumped into one another in the morning. She was raking the leaves from her garden beds.”
“Did you speak to her?”
My mind spiraled back two days, to Friday morning. I’d been in a rush, running late to get to the store after a sleepless night of tossing and turning. I’d bumped into the terrible trio — better known as Eliza, Sally, and Agatha — as soon as I stepped out into the sun-drenched October day. They were gathered by the fence that divided Eliza’s property from mine, standing in the freshly-raked garden beds. Each of them was chanting something, a low incantation I couldn’t quite make out, and holding a jar of white crystalline powder.
I’d been momentarily terrified I was about to receive another magic mickey and wind up strapped to a chair in a basement… until I realized the substance in their jars was not shimmery gray, like my last witchy-roofie experience, and that they were not aiming it anywhere near me but, instead, sprinkling a thick perimeter of it around the property line.
“Don’t worry, Gwendolyn,” Eliza had called, sounding amused by the paranoid look on my face as I hastened toward the gate. “Only salt.”
I didn’t stop walking, but I did stumble a bit at her announcement. Salt. A common practice for protection when placed in a line around one’s home. I knew from all my occult readings, as well as witnessing Aunt Colette’s own traditions, that many witches saw it as a first line of defense against unwanted energies, unwelcome spirits, and uninvited guests.
“You think you need protection fromme?” I’d muttered, reaching for the gate handle. “That’s a laugh.”
Eliza’s voice carried after me. “The protection is not for us.”
Sure enough, as I stepped through the gate, my feet were confronted with a thick line of white crystals that lined the sidewalk along the entire front of my property. I had no doubt, if I walked into Dan and Rich’s yard, I’d find a similar line bounding the other side of my fence. Probably all along the back yard, as well.
They were protecting me.
I’d spun around to stare at the three woman, not sure what to say. This surely didn’t make up for them kidnapping me, but I couldn’t help it — my heart softened a bit at the thought.
“You’re still keeping me safe?” I’d asked, brows high. “Even though you’re angry at me for not leaving town like you wanted?”
Sally had nodded firmly. “Someone has to, child.”
“Not that you deserve it,” Agatha had muttered.
“When the Heretics strike, The Bay Colony Coven will be ready,” Eliza had added, her voice calm and measured, a direct contradiction to her fierce words. “See that you are as well, Gwendolyn. There is only so much we can help from a distance. You must be on your guard. Time grows short. And enemies may be far closer than you think.”
I’d nodded, latched my gate, and rushed to the store without another word. That was the last time I saw Eliza Proctor — the last time I saw her alive, anyway.
“Gwendolyn?”
Cade’s low, prompting voice snapped me back to the present. I swallowed hard and shook off the memories cobwebbed across my mind.
“No, we didn’t really speak, just called our typical good morning greetings. I was running late for work, I didn’t have time to chitchat.”
His watchful eyes moved over my features, studying me with an intentness that made my chest tighten with nerves. He didn’t look like he fully believed I was telling him the whole story — probably because Iwasn’t, and he was a smart guy. I might not be smart, but I was wise enough to know that telling the truth right now wouldn’t do me any favors. In fact, I was pretty sure spilling the whole twisted saga would result in one thing and one thing only — me, locked away in a cell for the foreseeable future, wearing an orange jumpsuit (that, I shuddered to think, would clash abominably with my hair color), trying to make a bunch of straight-laced, no-nonsense cops understand that just because I did indeed have motive for revenge against Eliza Proctor, seeing as she’d kidnapped me and tried to run me out of town, I wouldn’t ever in my wildest dreams actually hurt a little old lady. Certainly not with something so gruesome as an occult knife through the heart.
These panicked thoughts careened around my brain as the silver fox detective studied me, setting off alarm bells as they ricocheted off the inside of my skull. An unhappy line appeared between Cade’s dark brows as they furrowed inward.
“Gwendolyn…” he pressed, looking grim.
“Enough, Hightower.” Graham’s voice cut in sharply. “This isn’t the time.”
Cade’s jaw tightened, but he nodded and glanced away from me. Blowing out a long breath, he steered his eyes toward the graveyard. “Let’s get this done, then.”