Witches' Spells Page 9
Frank shook his head. “To the contrary, a breeding population has been found just south of here.”
I took a step backwards.
Linda looked up from her phone. “I just googled it, and it said that cane toads’ front feet aren’t webbed, and they do little hops rather than leaping like a normal frog.”
With that, the creature in question ducked under a bush. “I think that was a hop rather than a leap,” Frank said, more to himself than to anyone. “I think it was a cane toad. I’ll have to catch it with a net and relocate it. If my wife finds it, she’ll kill it. Please don’t mention it to her.”
We assured him that we wouldn’t.
He continued to look at us for a few moments, and then to my utter shock reached up and tugged at his hair. He pulled out a few strands and dropped them into the plastic bag and handed it to me.
“Thank you so much. Thank you so much,” I gushed.
We both hurried back to the car, and he followed us. When I reached the car, I looked back up at him. He was standing, his hand against the wall of his house, looking at us. He gave a little wave, and then turned away. “Maybe Francine drugs him to keep him placated,” Linda said. “I don’t think he is the killer, because he can’t kill a cane toad.”
I shook my head. “Many serial killers can’t bear to kill insects and things, but kill people,” I told her.
She shot me a look of disbelief. “Where did you hear that?”
I shrugged. “I have no idea, to be honest, but I’m sure I saw a documentary that said that.”
“I don’t think it’s him,” Linda said. “If he’s going to save a cane toad, then he can’t kill a person. Anyway, the whole thing was completely weird.”
“I’ll say. I went entirely off script, so I was surprised that he gave us some of his hair. I hope this works as well the next time.”
Linda held up both hands. “The next time? No, this is the last time. I’m not helping you with any more of these wild hair procuring schemes.”
I hurried to reassure her. “This is the last one. The aunts guaranteed me that they’re going to take hair samples from their new cleaner.”
Linda laughed. “Are they going to give her the same university story? She won’t fall for that. She won’t think your aunts are uni students.”
I laughed, too. “No, they’ve got some other scheme cooked up. Linda, see that little white car parked down the road? I’m sure it’s been following us.”
“Why don’t you turn the car around and drive straight at it so we can get its numberplate,” she said.
“Good idea.” I turned the car around slowly, and as soon as I straightened up, I floored it. Unfortunately for us, the other car took off as fast as it could.
“It’s getting away,” Linda said. “Go faster, Pepper.”
“He’s going way over the speed limit,” I told her. “There’s no way I’m driving that fast, especially not on these dirt roads. This proves that it wasn’t Francine who was following us, or her husband either.”
“We were fairly sure it was a man following us, though,” Linda said, “so that cuts out Francine, anyway.”
I shrugged. “Maybe the murderer paid someone to follow us. Maybe there’s more than one person in on it. The murderer might have an accomplice.”
Linda shuddered. “Now there’s a cheerful thought.”
As I rounded the next bend, the white car appeared behind me. “Linda!” I yelled. “It’s going to ram us!”
Chapter 12
It was only when I was about five or so minutes from Mugwort Manor that I realised Aunt Agnes had not expressed surprise that I had gone to Beckett Maxwell’s house. After all, I had not told her I was going there. For all she knew, I had driven to the curtain store. Yet she had not reprimanded me at all. Instead, she had come up with a plan on the spot. That woman sure was good in an emergency.
I rounded the second last corner to Mugwort Manor, and saw Lucas’s car on the side of the road. Lucas was standing beside it, looking agitated. I was surprised to see him so—he was usually utterly cool and collected.
I stopped the car and got out. “Your aunts told me what happened,” he said by way of greeting.
I was concerned that I had done the wrong thing. “I called the ambulance just in case he wasn’t really dead, and the police as well, and then I realised perhaps I shouldn’t have called the police at all. Maybe I should have left it to you.”
Lucas waved one hand at me. “No, you did the right thing. I don’t want you to continue to be involved with this, Pepper. I’ve been called away to a case, but I needed to speak to you before I left. There’s something I’ve got to give you before I go. Can you go back to your cottage and wait for me? Drive straight there. Avoid your aunts at this point.”
I was a little confused. “Do you mean I can’t tell the aunts what happened?”
He shook his head. “No, tell them everything. It’s just that I have to leave right now and I don’t want to get caught up talking to them before I leave. Head straight for your cottage and wait there. I’ll be right behind you.”
I frowned. “Sure.” I got back into my car and drove quietly up to Mugwort Manor, wondering why Lucas was being so mysterious. Sure, he was a mysterious person, but this was going a little too far, even for him.
I parked the car as far from the manor as I could, and then skirted around the side of the building. I was relieved to see that Aunt Dorothy wasn’t tending to her vegetable patch in the back garden. I walked to my cottage as fast as I could, hoping the aunts weren’t looking out the windows, waiting for my return.
My black cat, Hecate, was waiting for me at my gate. “Are you waiting for a second breakfast?” I asked her. I unlocked my front door and let her in. She meowed and ran straight for the kitchen.
I looked down at her full bowl with amusement. “You’ve got plenty of food in there,” I told her. She looked up at me expectantly, so I dropped a little more dry food into her bowl. She ate it greedily, as if she’d been starved for a week. Oh well, who could understand the ways of a cat?
I hurried to my bedroom window and peeked behind the curtains, but there was no sign of Lucas. I hoped he wouldn’t be long, because the suspense was killing me. I walked back into my living room and paced up and down a few times, when I heard a knock on the back door. I was there in double quick time, unlocking the door and letting in Lucas. “What’s all this about?” I asked him without preamble.
“I’ve been called away on a pressing case,” he said. His earlier agitation had not left him. “You won’t be able to call me under any circumstances because…”
I interrupted him. “Is it dangerous?”
Something flickered across his face, before he said, “No.”
I was certain he was lying, but I didn’t want to press him on it. After all, if he didn’t say anything to the contrary, it would leave me with the illusion that he was perfectly safe.
He continued, “I’m leaving my phone in my cottage anyway.” He pulled a rather unremarkable looking phone out of his pocket and pressed it into my hands. “Now Pepper, listen carefully, because this is very important. This phone is only for me to call you. We won’t be able to speak for long, and you must not use it for anything else. By that, I mean that you must not call anyone else from this phone. I can’t stress the importance of this. Do you understand?”
I nodded. “Sure.”
“You must take the phone with you at all times and never leave it out of your sight. That’s just as important. Have you got all that?”
“I have to take the phone with me wherever I go, and make sure it’s never out of my sight, and I can’t use the phone for anything else apart from you calling me.” I paused for breath. “And I suppose it’s out of the question that I can call you?”
He nodded. “You should be able to, but don’t try. It’s important you don’t make any calls at all.”
“What’s all this about?” I wasn’t one for secrets. In fact, I had
never been one for secrets, but my dislike of the mysterious had grown even more since I had moved back to Lighthouse Bay.
“I can’t tell you anything now, but I promise I’ll tell you all about it when I get back. Just wish me luck.” I opened my mouth, but he pushed on. “Pepper, I’m asking you not to get involved with this case. I’ll deal with Beckett Maxwell’s murder when I get back, but for now it’s imperative that you don’t do any snooping.”
“So you think it was murder?” I asked him.
His eyes darkened. “From what your aunts told me, it would be too much of a coincidence to be anything else, but I suppose anything is possible. Pepper, I’m asking you not to try to solve the murder. Wait until I get back. Can you do that?”
“No,” I answered honestly. “I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t look into it.”
Lucas sighed and ran both hands through his hair. “Pepper, sometimes you can be exasperating. Just promise me you won’t put yourself in any danger.”
“Yes, I’ll certainly promise that I’ll try,” I said. “I don’t enjoy being in danger, and I’ve been in danger one too many times lately.”
Lucas waved one finger at me. “Yes, because you became involved with murders.”
“That was hardly my fault,” I protested. “They all happened right here at Mugwort Manor. This is the first murder that hasn’t happened on the premises.” As soon as I said it, I realised how strange it sounded.
Lucas sighed. ‘Let’s go into the back garden, shall we?’
I followed him out. It was the time of day that was full of half light and the whispering of butterflies. Bees rippled above the rustle of the lavender bushes, and somewhere, not too far in the distance, drifted the sound of waves crashing onto the beach.
“It’ll be a while before we see each other again.” Lucas pulled my hand into his. His skin was rough, coarsened from hard work, and I smiled to myself. I loved this man, the smell of sandalwood that tinged his clothes, the roughness of his jacket, the shadow of a beard on his face. I raised my free hand and brushed his cheek.
“You should shave this,” I said with laughter in my voice. I didn’t mind the stubble, but I wanted to say something that a girlfriend would say. Who knew when I would get the chance again? It was also nice for a minute not to think about murder, and instead focus on the strapping young man leading me down the flowery path.
“I’ll miss you,” I told him.
“I know,” he said, a grin spreading across his face. He threw back his head and laughed. “You’re going to be lost without me.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” I replied, but I was also laughing. “Stay away forever. See if I care.”
“Fine. I will.”
“Don’t you dare,” I squealed, but mostly because Lucas had pushed me against a tree and was giving me a good tickle. “You’re terrible.”
He didn’t reply. He was too busy kissing me then, thoroughly, and with the desperation of a man going off to fight polar bears. Or whatever it is manly men fought when they left their girlfriends behind to solve murders and foil dastardly plots.
“Do me a favour,” he whispered in my ear.
“I might.”
“Don’t get murdered.”
“All right, but only if you do me a favour,” I replied.
“All right.”
“Don’t stay away too long.”
He kissed me again, but this time it was slow and lingering. When he stopped, I nuzzled my face into the crook of his neck, inhaling that scent of musk and wood smoke.
“We should go,” he said finally.
Together, Lucas and I returned to my cottage. After a quick peck on the cheek and a squeeze of the hand he was gone, leaving me to watch him stride towards his car. I had a bad feeling. Not about Lucas, necessarily, but what the next few days would bring as I investigated the murder of Dr Beckett Maxwell.
Chapter 13
Can you outrun it?” Linda asked me, her tone filled with fear.
“Not a snowball’s hope in hell,” I said. “Not in Agnes’s car.” My heart was beating out of my chest. I had no idea what to do. “Can you call the police?”
Linda whipped her phone out of her handbag. “Good idea,” she said as she punched in the numbers. “Police!” she called into the phone. After a moment, she said, “We’re in an isolated area driving back to Lighthouse Bay and there’s a big car threatening us.”
She had the phone set to loud, so I heard the other party. “How is the car threatening you?” the voice asked.
“He’s going to ram us. He’s so close to us that if we put on the brakes even slightly he will hit us.”
There was hesitation, and then the voice said, “Has the car rammed you?”
“Not yet,” Linda said. “The person is driving very dangerously. They’re so close we can’t even see a numberplate. My friend’s driving and we’re scared.”
“What is your location?” The voice asked us.
“We’re twenty five kilometres west of Lighthouse Bay on the Innis River Road,” Linda said, looking over her shoulder.
I was driving as fast as I safely could, but there was a bend ahead. “Brace yourself,” I said to Linda. I took the corner as fast as I could within the bounds of safety, all the while being afraid the car would hit us, but it didn’t. It stayed the same distance from us, but didn’t make contact.
“I’ll inform the police,” the voice said, and hung up, much to my disgust.
“What’s it doing now?” I asked Linda. I didn’t want to take my eyes off the road even long enough to look in the rear view mirror.
“I can’t see if it’s a man or a woman,” Linda said. “The windows are very dark. I mean they’re tinted, and very darkly tinted. I can’t see inside the car at all.”
“Is there anywhere ahead where they might try to run us off the road? A bridge, or a cliff, or something like that?” I asked her. “Do you remember?”
“I can’t remember anything like a cliff,” she said. “I think there are a few bridges. Oh yes, there’s one not far from here.”
My heart caught in my mouth. “Do you think he intends to run us off the road when we come to the bridge?”
Linda clutched her throat. “I hope not! Pepper, do something!”
“Like what? I’m all out of ideas. Why hasn’t he hit us yet?”
Linda didn’t respond, and I wasn’t going to look at her. My palms were sweating, but I dared not take a hand off the wheel to wipe it on my jeans. I felt dizzy from sheer terror.
Just then, the phone in my pocket rang. It was the phone Lucas had given me. What to do? If I didn’t answer it, Lucas would worry, given that he had instructed me to keep it on me at all times. If I answered it, then Lucas would worry even more, because I was being chased by a possible homicidal maniac.
“Linda, can you get that phone out of my back pocket, answer it, and hold it to my ear? I don’t mean answer it. I mean press answer and hold it to my ear.”
“Should you be talking on the phone at a time like this?” she said rapidly.
“It’s Lucas,” I said.
She fished in my jeans pocket by way of response, pressed the button and then held to my ear. “Lucas, I’m in the car with Linda,” I told him.
“How are things?” he asked me.
“I’m driving.” That, at least was the truth.
“Pepper, I have…” The line disconnected.
Linda pushed the phone back in my jeans pocket. “Why don’t you slow down?” she asked me.
“What do you mean?” My mouth was so dry I could barely speak.
“He hasn’t hit us yet, so if he intends to run us off the road at a bridge, he won’t do anything now. He can easily outrun us and he hasn’t bumped into the back of this car, so if you slow down, it will confuse him.”
“He might ram us if we slow down,” I protested.
“Try, Pepper. Try.”
“Okay.” I slowed down ever so slightly and gripped the steering wheel
, but the car did not ram us as I had feared it would. I slowed down a little more. Encouraged, I slowed down to eighty kilometres per hour. The car maintained its distance.
“Pull off the road,” Linda said. “He obviously has no intention of hitting us here, or he would have done so already, but we can’t go as far as the next bridge. If you pull over, we can get his numberplate and tell the police.”
I wasn’t convinced, but the other car still hadn’t rammed us. “Okay, I’ll try.” I slowed down to sixty. The car blew its horn, but maintained its distance.
Linda grabbed my arm. “Over there! There’s a wide verge ahead. Go off the road there.”
I slowed down to fifty, and the car blew its horn again. I wasn’t game to slow down any more, so I hit the edge of the road quite fast. I was scared of spinning the car when I braked hard, but I managed to keep it straight, and the other car accelerated past us. I turned off the engine and slumped over the steering wheel, shaking.
I looked up, realising I hadn’t looked at the numberplates. “Did you get the plates?” I asked Linda.
She was white and trembling. “No. There was mud all over them. That was obviously deliberate, because it hasn’t rained in ages.”
“What should we do?” I asked her. “Is there another way back to town? I’ll bet you anything he’s waiting up the road for us.”
“He probably didn’t want to ram us because it would have left evidence on your car—you know, paint markings and things like that.” She pulled her phone out of her handbag again. “I’ll see if there is another way back to town.” After an interval, she sighed. “No, this is the only way. What are we going to do, Pepper? He probably wants to push us over a bridge.”
“Actually, there’d be paint marks on the car if he did,” I pointed out. “If he hasn’t rammed us yet, there’s a good chance he doesn’t want to push us into a river.”