The Witch's Will Read online

Page 9


  “Yes, I’m sure that’s why it took so long.” Ms. Poole sounded wholly unconvinced. “And, yes, I am aware that you finished last night. I didn’t doubt you would.”

  “So, what now then?” Lady hadn’t meant to sound annoyed, but it came out in her tone anyway.

  “Now, I need you to help me refill it.”

  “What?” If it was possible, Lady felt her heart drop even further. “But I just emptied it out. Why—”

  “Because I’m telling you to. You do work for me, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “Do you want to quit?”

  “No, but—”

  “Then I hope you’ll listen to me. I don’t think I’m asking for much here.” Ms. Poole transferred the sausage patties to a plate covered in paper towels to soak up the grease. “I feel I leave you with plenty of time to yourself. Today I need you to deliver water to Ms. Comfrey and come right back home. We have a long day ahead of us.”

  That didn’t sound promising. “So, we’re working the whole day?”

  “What I’m planning will take time, yes.”

  That didn’t sound promising either. It sounded like she was planning work that would take longer than just the day. “You didn’t do this because I decided to look into Lucette’s death, did you?”

  Ms. Poole raised her eyebrows. “Did you find out anything promising yesterday?”

  “No,” Lady began slowly, carefully. “But that doesn’t mean we won’t ever find anything! This stuff takes time.”

  “Wild goose chases always take time. You’ll have your time to search. Now go on and get the water. The sooner you’re done with that, the sooner we can get started on the important things.”

  “I can’t stay for breakfast?” The smells of the kitchen were making Lady’s stomach growl audibly.

  “I made you something for the road.” Ms. Poole pointed to the oven.

  Lady opened it to find some biscuits keeping warm. “Ah,” she said, taking one from the oven.

  “Here, you can put some sausage in it,” offered Ms. Poole.

  “No thanks. I’ll put jelly in it.”

  “Well, I know someone who appreciates sausage.” Ms. Poole took a sausage patty from the plate anyway and started tearing it up for Lion. While her back was turned, Lady grabbed some blueberries and hid them inside her biscuit before heading to the fridge for butter and apricot jelly.

  “The rain water is where it always is,” Ms. Poole said as she bent down to place a saucer of ripped up meat on the floor.

  “Yeah, I know where it is.” Lady reassembled her biscuit and paused only briefly on her way out the door. “That’s going to upset his stomach, you know. He doesn’t need to eat as much people food as you give him.”

  “Oh, a little bit won’t hurt him,” said Ms. Poole, scratching Lion between the ears as he ate.

  Lady was sure she could demand the old woman to stop and that she would. She liked that she loved Lion, though. She didn’t want to ruin that for Lion. Let him be the only one Ms. Poole spoiled.

  ***

  The rain water was in a shed out behind the inn. Lady took a bite of her biscuit as she walked across the grass toward it. She immediately gagged and very nearly spit it out. The blueberries had been a terrible addition. Resolving to finish it, she took another bite anyway; it was partly out of spite, partly because she was afraid to leave any evidence of her theft behind.

  Lady finished the biscuit by the shed before wrenching the lid from the big rain water barrel. She filled up two of the usual buckets that sat near it before placing a couple of lids on them as well. It was strenuous work. Her arms and back screamed at her in pain as she hefted up one in both hands. She had definitely pulled something at the graveyard the day before.

  Lady trudged back inside to find Lion waiting for her in the doorway. “Sorry, buddy. You probably shouldn’t come today. I can’t carry you and this.”

  Lion whipped his tail back and forth as if unhappy with that news. For whatever reason, Lady seldom had doubts that he understood English. Plenty of pets understood some degree of human language, didn’t they?

  “Don’t give me that face. I’m coming right back.” Lady put her buckets down to make sure the door closed behind her. “Besides, it’s almost breakfast. You know Otsuya is gonna give you treats.”

  “I’m what?” came a voice from the dining room.

  Lady looked up to find Otsuya standing near the empty table. She looked to be dressed in what she had slept in, a wrinkled lilac t-shirt and cloth shorts. She stood there yawning and wiping sleep from her eyes. “I’ve got to run an errand. I’m leaving Lion behind.”

  “Oh, cool,” Otsuya said through a yawn. She moved to sit at the empty table.

  Lady picked her buckets up and closed some of the distance between herself and Otsuya before putting them down again. “So, where were you last night?”

  “Huh?” Otsuya had propped her head up on a hand. There was a paleness to her skin that Lady hadn’t noticed before stepping closer.

  “You were supposed to help me with work, remember? I didn’t see you again after we got home. You said you’d come down after you got your books put away, then poof.”

  “Did I?” Otsuya looked up at Lady with her eyes narrowed, like she thought that might be a particularly unfunny joke. After a moment she shrugged and turned back to the empty table. “Sorry. I had to talk to Doyle and then it turned into, like, this whole thing.”

  “Then you should have come down and said something to me.” Lady did like Otsuya, she really did. It was kind of hard to be friends with her sometimes, though. She could be downright infuriating. “I would have understood if something came up, but it’s really frustrating when you just… don’t show.”

  “Sorry,” said Otsuya, though she didn’t much sound like she meant it. It sounded more like she was tired and wanted to be done with the conversation.

  “What kind of work came up?” asked Lady, trying to find an excuse to forgive her completely before she left.

  Otsuya shrugged and yawned again. “Just work.”

  “Whatever.” Lady picked her buckets back up. Otsuya never did say what it was she did for a living, only that Doyle was essentially her boss. Ms. Poole said it was none of her business what Otsuya did, and Doyle hardly spoke to Lady at all. It was frustrating, to say the least. One of these days she was going to have to shadow her until she found out where it was Otsuya actually went.

  ***

  It wasn’t as hot outside as it had been the day before. That was a small miracle. A better miracle would have been the buckets being significantly lighter. She was sweating as heavily as ever, trudging down the sidewalk. She needed to buy herself some shorts, but it was hard to find those at local thrift shops. Maybe she should cave and just go buy herself a new pair, but Lady hated buying clothes that were new. Everything was so overpriced.

  Lady put the buckets down to rub the sweat from her forehead. Gross. At least she hadn’t bothered to put on makeup again. There was no point in this weather. She didn’t want to get back home, look in the mirror, and discover she’d spent the day looking like a sad clown hooker.

  Lady was leaning down to pick the buckets up when a car pulled in front of her, two of its wheels popping up onto the sidewalk to let traffic pass. She recognized the car immediately. It was Crispin’s. Thank God. Sometimes he stopped and picked her up on her way to Ms. Comfrey’s after it rained. He would drive her if he wasn’t busy. Lady didn’t even care if he saw her sweaty and without makeup. She didn’t want to keep hauling buckets in the heat with her arms and back aching like they were.

  There was a pop as Lady approached the car, and the trunk opened a crack. Lady opened it the rest of the way, put her buckets inside, and slammed it back. She was a little surprised Crispin hadn’t gotten out to help her. He always did—not that it was that big of a deal. Lady was perfectly capable of getting the buckets in the trunk on her own.

  Lady went around to the passe
nger side of the car, opened the door, and paused. The driver wasn’t Crispin. The driver wasn’t Crispin at all.

  “Are you getting in or not?” asked Dom.

  Lady did not get in. “Why are you driving Crispin’s car?”

  “Because he asked me to. Get in.”

  There was an instinctive part of Lady that wanted to tell him to pop the trunk. She would get her buckets from the back and walk the rest of the way on her own, thank you very much. The lazy side of her wanted to sit down in an air conditioned car and be chauffeured. Her lazy side won. “Is something wrong?” Lady asked as she buckled herself in.

  “Naw. Crispin just had some errands to run today. I don’t think he trusts me to watch the library while he’s out. He didn’t say that specifically, but he seemed relieved when I volunteered to run errands for him instead, so…” Dom pulled off of the sidewalk, ignoring a car blaring its horn behind him.

  “I’m one of his errands?”

  “I guess. It rained last night, so he said I should go see if you were making your usual sojourn to Ms. Comfrey’s place.”

  “Thanks, I guess.”

  “You guess?” Dom glanced at her with an eyebrow raised. “Would you rather walk?”

  “Thanks,” Lady amended. She looked over at him and forced a smile. She noted he was looking a little scruffier than usual. His undercut needed trimming and so did his beard. His dark, curly locks were unkempt. He was looking a little more Viking than hipster today.

  “What?” asked Dom, glancing her way again. “Why are you staring?”

  “Is something wrong?” asked Lady. “I mean, other than the Crispin thing.”

  Dom looked back to the road. “Like what?”

  “I dunno. You just seem a little out of sorts.” Lady considered that for a moment. “Is it about your extended family? Is that stressing you out?”

  “Why would it?” Dom asked, his tone too snappy to pass as casual. “They haven’t mattered to me in ages.”

  “Yeah, but they’re still your biological family,” Lady pointed out, not that she really needed to. “I never liked my biological family, but when they died it still really bothered me. The counselor called it complicated grief. See, you can love someone and hate them at the same time and then never come to terms with both those emotions, so—”

  “I’m not grieving.”

  “That’s not what I was saying exactly. What I mean is—”

  Dom turned on the radio, and he turned it on loud. Eighties music filled the car and was probably audible to anyone within a twenty foot radius as well. Lady grumbled to herself and pressed her hands over her ears. He was totally stressed out because he was grieving, she decided.

  ***

  “Hey!” Lady raised her voice after a couple of minutes. Dom either ignored her or couldn’t hear her over the radio. Lady reached over and switched it off. This earned her a frown from Dom, but she ignored it. “You need to let me out here.”

  “Ms. Comfrey’s place isn’t for another block.”

  “Yeah, but I’m supposed to carry the buckets there. She and Ms. Comfrey think driving them over takes away from the magic.”

  “That’s stupid.” Dom kept right on driving. “It doesn’t do anything to the magic.”

  “Crispin always lets me out early.”

  “Well, I’m not Crispin, am I?” Dom turned down Ms. Comfrey’s road.

  “You’re going to get me in trouble!” Lady shouted at him, losing her patience. “How hard is it to just stop the car?!”

  Dom finally stepped on the brake. Lady was about to thank him for finally seeing reason, but then she realized where they were. Dom had stopped right in front of Ms. Comfrey’s driveway. “You’re such a jerk. I don’t know how Crispin doesn’t get mad at you more often.” She threw off her seatbelt in a hurry. Maybe if she rushed, Dom would drive away and Ms. Comfrey wouldn’t be any the wiser in regard to how the buckets of rain water had arrived.

  Lady threw open the passenger side door and hurried around to the back. She opened the trunk and unloaded her buckets of water. “Hey,” Dom called. “Close your door.”

  Lady cursed under her breath as she closed the trunk door and then lugged the buckets back around to the side of the car she had gotten out on. Her hand was on the door when she was caught.

  “Lady, is that—” Ms. Comfrey’s voice cut off abruptly.

  Lady turned to find the plump lady standing in her garden. Or in front of her garden, rather. The plant life that surrounded her cozy little house was dense and easy for someone to get lost in. Lady tried to put on a smile like she had done nothing wrong. “Hey, Ms. Comfrey.” She waved and greeted her like an old friend, even though that was far from the truth. Their relationship had been chilly at best ever since Lady had gotten mad at her for healing her with “magic” rather than calling an ambulance after she’d nearly drowned. Ms. Comfrey had taken it personally, like some sort of slight against her abilities. Lady hadn’t apologized and didn’t plan to. Her reasons for being mad still felt valid to her.

  There was an awkward stretch of silence that was broken only when Dom cleared his throat. “So, are you going to close the car door or what?” When Lady didn’t answer him, he leaned across the console and passenger seat to do it himself. Lady shoved her hand further into the door, refusing to move it. “The heck are you doing?” Dom demanded.

  Ms. Comfrey stood there with her gloved hands on her plump hips. There was a frown on her tan skin that really emphasized the harsh lines of her wrinkles. Her frown turned on Dom when he spoke, or at least the open car door from which his voice was coming. “Is that Dominicus in there?” she demanded, using Dom’s full name.

  There was a groan of disgust from the car. A second later, Dom took a deep breath. “Yes, Ma’am,” he called loud enough for Ms. Comfrey to hear.

  “I should have known. That’s Crispin’s car, but he has more sense than this. Put that water away and then the both of you come inside. I need to have a word.” Ms. Comfrey peeled off her thick garden gloves and stomped toward her front door. A plump little old lady in overalls wasn’t particularly threatening, but Lady found herself dreading entering her home anyway.

  “Get your hand out of the door so I can close it,” ordered Dom.

  “No way! She told you to come inside too!”

  “And I will! I just want to park in the driveway first.”

  Lady withdrew her hand but slammed it on her own, startling Dom. He scowled at her through the window. Lady turned away, scooping the buckets up and walking toward the shed around back. Ms. Comfrey had told them to put the water away. Lady wasn’t sure if that meant in the trunk or the shed, but she was going for the latter. She placed both buckets inside and removed the empty ones to take back to Ms. Poole.

  A shiver went down Lady’s spine at the thought of Ms. Poole. What was the best course of action here? To admit the water was almost always driven to the house or to act like it had only happened once? Lady didn’t trust herself to make a compelling argument about how the water’s mode of transportation didn’t change anything. She would probably be in a lot of trouble over this either way.

  At least Dom really had parked in the driveway. When Lady came back around the house, he was getting out of the car. “I told you to stop.” Lady opened the door to the back seat and put the empty buckets there. “But you didn’t listen to me. Nope, you thought you knew better.”

  “I do know better.” Dom clearly didn’t plan on backing down any time soon. His posture was defiantly straight, and his hands were jammed into his pockets. “I know old witches like her are living in the past. There’s no point in not taking advantage of modern conveniences. I’m not going to humor her just because she’s old.”

  “Well, I was fine with humoring her.” Lady walked past Dom and to the front door. “It’s easy for you to say all that. It’s not like this is part of your job or anything.”

  “You’re not completely innocent in all this, you know.” Dom’s voice gre
w closer. He had to be standing right behind her, not that Lady looked. “You’ve been taking rides from Crispin all this time, and you took a ride from me today. You must have known there was a chance you’d get caught.”

  “I wouldn’t have been caught if you had just stopped where I told you.”

  “You were still doing it, though. You were disobeying your boss by choice. I was just doing you a favor.”

  “No.” Lady spun to look at him. She was put off for a breath or two by just how much larger he seemed standing right next to her. She had to look up and angle her arm awkward to point an accusing finger in his face. “You were doing Crispin a favor.”

  “So? You want me to call him down here so he can take responsibility?”

  Lady dropped her hand. A visual came to mind of Crispin coming down to apologize to Ms. Comfrey like Dom and Lady were his kids. She winced. “Come on.” She sighed and turned back to the door. The handle turned under her hand and the door opened into the kind of house she would have guessed Ms. Comfrey to own.

  There were a lot of shelves and plenty of kitsch crowding on them. There were little porcelain cherubs and miniature painted houses. There was plenty of greenery as well. Little pots and big ones lined walls and most surfaces. They were all bright green and healthy, though Lady couldn’t imagine how. Keeping all of this alive had to take up a massive amount of time.

  “I’m in here,” called Ms. Comfrey’s voice after Dom had closed the door behind them both.

  Lady glanced back to Dom. “Ladies first,” he said, motioning her on. She rolled her eyes but pressed on ahead.

  Ms. Comfrey was seated on a recliner in her living room. If it was possible, the room Lady found herself in now was even more green. This was owed in large part to the vines growing in the rafters. It was difficult not to stare.

  “Take a seat,” said Ms. Comfrey, drawing Lady’s attention to a love seat across from her. There were pictures of a younger Comfrey above it. In some of them she was posing with a young child, in others she stood with an awkward, pimple-faced teen. “Are those of you and…” Lady trailed off. She knew Conners didn’t use his real last name because he didn’t want to be associated with his mother. It was probably best not to call him Detective Conners in front of his mom. Not that his first name was a lot less awkward for her to say. “Are those of you and Guy?”

 

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