Raven's Hollow. Jenna Ryan

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      Chapter Seven

      “The battery in her cell phone died.”

      Twenty minutes after they walked through her cousin’s front door. Sadie returned to the thickly shadowed room Molly called a parlor.

      “She stayed in town to have dinner with a friend who’s afraid of thunderstorms. Neat, tidy, logical. Mystery solved, Lieutenant.”

      “One mystery, anyway.” Eli held up and examined a double-edged dagger. “Any reason she collects and displays lethal weapons?”

      “Witch’s tools,” Sadie corrected. “That dagger you’re holding is an athame. Its white-handled counterpart is a boline.” She swept a hand along the sideboard. “Chalice, ritual candles, tarot cards, protective crystals—dog.”

      Eli regarded the tiny, ratlike creature at the far end. Its pointy ears quivered as the animal stared back.

      “His name’s Solomon.” Sadie bit back most of a smile. “He and Cocoa don’t get along. Seeing as Molly’s coming with us to my place, it should be a lively gathering.”

      “Especially if Cocoa’s in the mood for a midnight snack.”

      “I’ll make sure she’s well fed. By the way, you might want to put that dagger down before Molly sees you. She’s proprietorial about family heirlooms.”

      “Seriously? These things belonged to your ancestor?”

      “Most of them did. Molly’s a buff. She’s searched the manor from subcellar to tower peak. If you look closely, you’ll see Nola Bellam’s initials inscribed on the larger items.”

      “So Hezekiah Blume really did marry a witch.”

      “Depends on how you look at it. Nola possessed the implements of a witch, but then Molly currently possesses those same implements, and no one’s ever accused her of witchcraft.”

      “I’ll let that one pass.”

      “And I’ll light a metaphorical fire under my cousin.” But Sadie paused in the doorway. “Do you have any ideas, theories, even vague thoughts on tonight’s intruder?”

      “Having seen this house, I’d say he doesn’t believe in curses.”

      “Oh, well, if that’s true, you can take almost every male in both towns out of the running.”

      “There you go. Should be an easy solve.”

      “Five minutes.” Giving the molding a double tap, she left Eli alone with the lash of rain and wind outside and a tangle of thoughts in his head.

      He was a cop, he reminded himself. Solid facts and cold, hard evidence were his life. What was screwing it all up for him at the moment was his inability to slam a mental door on the welter of Sadie-related emotions he didn’t want to feel.

      She’d been a beautiful child, with her wild mass of red-brown hair and her amazing storm-gray eyes. Fortunately, back then—kid. Unfortunately, now—woman.

      His own eyes shifted as wind whipped through cracks in the ceiling and rattled the window glass.

      “No one’s going to rob you, Molly.” Sadie returned a few minutes later with her cousin in tow. “And the more people under one roof tonight, the better.”

      Yes, no, maybe. Eli managed not to grind his teeth as he watched Sadie bend to pick up her black trench coat. “Could you bring Solomon?” Her expression solemn, Molly dragged her Bellam red hair into a ponytail. “He doesn’t bite.”

      Did he even have teeth? But Eli tucked the dog under his arm and followed the women into the storm.

      Confusion reigned from the moment they entered Sadie’s plant-filled home. As predicted, Cocoa chased the Chihuahua under a tall cabinet. The lights flared and died three times, and in spite of the fact that he’d draped a sheet over the sinister message, on one of his trips through the foyer, he found Molly easing a corner up for a look.

      “Morbid curiosity?” he inquired from the shadows.

      She jumped back a full foot before finding him in the dark. “I was just—I wanted to see. It’s not that I don’t believe what Sadie said, I’m only surprised anyone would come into Bellam Manor to do it. A lot of people are afraid of this place.”

      “But not you.”

      “No. I mean—why would I be?” She touched her ponytail. “The house wouldn’t turn on one of its own.”

      Okay, that was weird. But, as he recalled, so was Molly. Or had been back when he’d lived in the Cove.

      With a small smile, she and her flickering candle more or less melted into the darkness. Unsure what to make of her, Eli checked the writing behind the sheet, listened to the storm for another moment, then made his way to the kitchen.

      He saw Cocoa sitting calmly on the windowsill while Sadie rummaged in a high cupboard. “No offense,” he said genially, “but your cousin hasn’t gotten any less strange with time.”

      “I’ve heard that before. Yet people keep coming into the pharmacy to have their prescriptions filled. Not to worry, her plan for the rest of the night is to lock herself in my guest room with her tarot cards, her laptop and, I’m pretty sure, since it appears to be missing, my grandmother’s carving knife.”

      Eli straddled a hard chair while she continued to rummage. “Am I responsible for that, or does Molly generally sleep with knives?”

      “I think you unsettle her.”

      “Makes us even.”

      Sadie laughed, and the sound of it was a punch of pure lust in his gut. “You are not afraid of my cousin, Eli.”

      “No? I heard a story in my junior year. A girl who humiliated her wound up with a bad case of warts.”

      “Where do you get this stuff? Never mind.” She held up a hand. “Rooney. Ah, good, found them.” She set a taper and three pillar candles on the table. “Your great-grandfather is leaning as heavily on our witchy legend as he is on the Raven’s Tale in order to entice tourists to visit your town.”

      Warily fascinated, Eli tracked her movements. “Nola Bellam married Hezekiah Blume, Sadie. That’s a fact. The legends are intertwined and fair game for anyone wanting to use them as an enticement.”

      She aimed the taper at him. “This is why my great-grandfather went to live in the north woods.”

      Sadie had a hypnotic way of moving, Eli noted. By the glow of a single taper, she appeared to float around the kitchen. Her still-damp tank top and skirt clung to her in a way that made his lower body burn and brought him right to the edge of begging.

      Common sense and a hard slap of memory would СКАЧАТЬ