Runes and Roller Skates Page 10

  Abe nodded and then said, “Maeve? She all right?”

  Scarlett nodded and then said, “She’s fine. We’ve got her safely tucked away.”

  Mabel glanced around the diner and said, “No one here would hurt a hair on that kid’s head. But you tell her we’re thinking of her. And you come back here before you go back to her. I’m gonna bake her something so good. So good.”

  And then Mabel sat down on the booth bench, weeping into her hands. Scarlett considered staying, but she glanced over to Abe and then walked out. She couldn’t comfort Mabel and take care of what was threatening Maeve at the same time.

  “I’ll be back for those treats,” Scarlett said as she reached the swinging door. “Make something extra big. There’s a rather large number of people taking care of her.”

  Mabel sniffed and nodded, but she didn’t lift her head from her hands.

  Scarlett left and started walking. Where to go? She had the car keys and could make her way to Herman’s. But, of course, she stopped and pulled out her phone, calling Herman directly.

  “Yup,” Herman said as he answered. “Herman’s Motel. This is Herman.”

  “It’s Scarlett Oaken,” she said.

  “You calling about the stranger,” he asked. He’d never been a man to mince words, she thought. He used to order baked goods from the bakery when she was in high school for his continental breakfast. She talked to him almost every day as he picked up the leftovers for the next day’s breakfast.

  “Yes,” Scarlett said.

  “Took off early. Didn’t check out. Didn’t say where he was going.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Linds Artnzen.”

  “What’s he drive?”

  “Silver 4-door Ford.”

  “Thanks, Herman.”

  “Didn’t do it for you. Did it for those girls. You tell that kid I’m real sorry about her sister. If you need help burying a body later, I got a shovel.”

  “Will do,” Scarlett said. She texted the information to the Circle and walked back towards the park where the Mystic Cove Founder’s Day Picnic was happening. There was a ferris wheel in the grade school parking lot next to the park. There were vendors including a table from the bakery where a few high school kids were supposed to sell stuff Scarlett hadn't gotten around to making.

  She wove through the alleys and side streets until she found the picnic. People were just beginning to set up. But several members of the Circle were there. Some were running booths. Some were sitting about casually. All of them were channeling their knowing. Three of them rose and pointed their fingers to a man sitting with a cup of coffee. He stuck out as soon as Scarlett set her eyes on him. Everything about him was mundane. He seemed to be a man made from laws and statutes and paperwork.

  Scarlett crossed to him, staring down at him and then she smiled her most charming smile. She had to admit to herself that she was channeling Lex as she did it. All confidence that she was gorgeous even though she knew she wasn’t. She sat down next to him, crossed her dirty black leggings and said, “You look like you’re not from around here.”

  He looked so utterly startled that she bypassed his chance to look her over by saying, “Where ya from stranger?”

  Oh goodness, she thought, that sounded so very cheesy, but he didn't seem to notice. He smiled and passed his coffee cup to the next hand and then said, “I’m from Boston.”

  “Oh, I can hear it in your voice. I’d guess you were working given you’re wearing that very uncomfortable tie.”

  She had to force herself to lay her hand on his arm, but she did it, and she kept the smile on her face while she did. And then she snapped a relax charm above his skin, letting the magic sprinkle onto his hairy wrist.

  “I am working,” he said.

  “What kind of work brings you to our fair little town?” she asked, attempting and failing to bat her lashes, but she smiled widely and looked over at him as if he were incredibly interesting, and he didn’t seem to notice all the things she wanted him to avoid.

  “I’m looking for a couple of missing girls.”

  Scarlett made a shocked and horrified face, and she was a bit. Why was this person looking for the girls? But he was so very bureaucratic. Maybe Mabel had been right about the girls being runaways. It made sense about why this man would be here, but why…why…would that lead to Bridget’s death?

  “Are you a detective?” Scarlett made it sound like he might be a superhero.

  He grinned and shrugged and then said, “Well…not really. I’m a social worker.”

  “Oh my,” Scarlett widened her gaze and thought frantically. It made sense that a social worker would have spooked Bridget. Especially if he were flinging around the term kidnapping. But…this man was as unmagical as you could be. There was simply no way, he'd shot a magically enhanced bullet that arched against physical laws towards Bridget and killed her.

  Scarlett dropped his arm and rose. He wasn’t involved. She didn’t have time.

  “Have a good one,” she said.

  “Hey wait,” he said standing and brushing off his pants.

  “I saw your wedding ring,” Scarlett said.

  She pulled out her phone, sending the Circle the mass text of: SOCIAL WORKER.

  There were replies, but Scarlett barely skimmed them as she walked away.

  “Hey wait,” he said again, but Scarlett simply waved him off. “Hey wait.”

  She turned, walking away from him backwards, and said, “You should probably check in with the police office.”

  His gaze narrowed and Scarlett shrugged that arrogant shrug of Lex’s and turned away.

  * * * * *

  Scarlett paused when she saw the message from Gram: I’D BET MY FORTUNE THAT JIMMY DAY IS INVOLVED.

  Scarlett forwarded that message to Lex and then thought. Well, now. Brad Day. What kind of human being were you when you were a suspect in two murders in a row. Bad life choices? Bad associations? Either way, Brad had already been on Scarlett’s target list, but he’d just been bumped up quite a bit after Gram’s message.

  Harper was jogging across the park to Scarlett when she spied Brad Day standing with a little girl in messy pigtails and too heavy makeup. She was wearing a tutu and crying through her mascara.

  “Daddy,” she said. “It doesn’t look right.”

  “Molly, baby,” Brad said, glancing around helplessly. “I’m trying.”

  “But Mommy did it right.” Molly stamped, but you could tell she was a brat. Even still, she was a little girl devastated by not being as perfectly made up as all the other ballerinas. Two of the little frilled girls were eyeing Molly up and down. Scarlett shook her head. She remembered being shocked when the other 3-year-olds in Ella’s preschool class had destroyed Ella for not having a fluffy enough dress.

  Scarlett winced for Brad. Poor guy. He didn’t even know what to do. And his wife was in jail for murdering his lover and her best friend. Even still, Kelly had done hair right. But then she’d gone and killed Brad Day’s mistress and gone to jail.

  “What seems to be the problem here?” Scarlett asked.

  Molly looked up at Scarlett through tear-filled eyes and said, “My pony’s all bumpy! Supposed to be like that!” She pointed over at a little girl with a perfect bun at the base of her neck. “And my makeup is all messed up. I’m a fairy! But I don’t look like a fairy. I look like a troll.”

  One of those tears rolled down Molly’s face and Brad’s agonized look had Scarlett taking the brush from his hand.

  “Turn it around, missy,” Scarlett said.

  Molly put her hands on her hips and said, “My name is Molly, not Missy!”

  “You want a perfect bun?”

  Molly nodded.

  “Then turn around.”

  Molly turned around with a huge amount of attitude and Scarlett raised a brow at Brad who seemed utterly baffled.

  “So,” Scarlett said as she started taking down the tangled hair that Brad had bunched into p
lace with an actual rubber band. “Are you mentally incompetent?”

  Brad’s eyes were wide as he shook his head.

  “Then never put this type of…” Scarlett struggled to hold back the deserved curse before she ground out, “Crap in her hair again.”

  “Ok. Sorry. Sorry.” Brad said. He held his hands out at his side.

  Harper folded her arms under her chest and watched as Scarlett began combing out the tangles. Harper asked, “So, were you using Bridget as a D-R-U-G mule? You were weren’t you?”

  Brad took an actual step back before Scarlett idly turned her head to him and said, “Someone was. It’s why she D-I-E-D.”

  “Bridgey is a good kid,” Brad said, aghast. “She wouldn’t do that.”

  “Why are you spelling?” Molly asked. “I want to know what you’re saying.”

  “Quiet you,” Scarlett said, lightly tapping the top of her head, “Or I won’t do your hair and makeup for you.”

  “I think you mean was,” Harper said. Her voice was mean, but then again—she was infuriated about the fact that a druid had been murdered. A druid they would have liked. A druid who had needed them. But more importantly, a sister who had saved her little sister from foster care. No one could be more of a hero for Harper.

  “I want pretty blush like her,” Molly ordered. Her gaze was fixed on a little girl who was staring back. “I’m prettier than her, aren’t I, Daddy?”

  “Hold still,” Scarlett said, lightly tapping Molly on the top of her head again and then said, “Harper I need your makeup. Brad, did you use Bridget for errands?”

  “Sure. Here and there. She needed money. Like bad. I was always looking for ways to help her out. She watched the kids. We all did. Dad did. We’d send her for takeout and buy her lunch. I’d never have set her up like that. Bridgey wouldn’t have run dr—” He cut off what he had been saying and then shook his head. “That can’t be right.”

  “She could have been unwitting,” Scarlett said as she wound Molly’s hair into a bun and started putting it in place with the stuff Harper was digging out of her bag. “It’s a good thing for this little ballerina you’re so vain,” Scarlett told her sister.

  Scarlett spun Molly to do her makeup as Harper pulled out hairspray and quickly sprayed the bun into place.

  “We’re not wrong,” Scarlett told Brad, using her mom gaze so there was no room for doubt. “Someone took advantage of Bridget. They used her to run D-R-U-G-S. It got her K-I-L-L-E-D. And it has got Maeve at risk.”

  “I like Maeve,” Molly said. “She’s funny.”

  “Bridget is…was…a good kid.”

  “No one is saying she isn’t,” Harper said. Her voice was as biting as before, and Brad flinched a little bit.

  “The last time you got involved with stuff my wife got…you know…J-A-I-L.”

  “No,” Harper countered before Scarlett could react, “K-I-L-L-I-N-G her best friend did that.”

  “Don’t you look precious,” Scarlett told Molly patting her on the head and pushing her towards the other girls to get rid of her. “Now go line up with your friends and remember your Daddy thinks you’re the prettiest one there.”

  Molly stuck her shoulders back and ran off without a thank you.

  “Your kid is a brat,” Harper said.

  “A cute one,” Scarlett added.

  “She needs manners,” Harper replied.

  “Her mom just went to jail,” Brad said, looking helplessly at the back of his daughter. Whatever she was saying to the kid next to her had the girl’s face falling.

  “You don’t have to raise another mean girl,” Scarlett told Brad. “Assuming Harper doesn’t kill you for murdering Bridget. You need to teach her better than you or her mom.”

  Harper’s face was unimpressed with both Brad’s defense of his daughter and Scarlett’s threat. But it was hard to wring sympathy from a former foster-care kid. Molly had it good as far as Harper was concerned and that meant manners were required when strangers did your hair and makeup.

  “I would never have hurt Bridget. Not ever. I was trying to help her. I don’t think she even realized how much trouble she was in.”

  Scarlett’s head tilted and her gaze met Harper’s.

  “Do you mean running away with Maeve?”

  Brad nodded his head, glancing around as if Bridget’s secret were still something he needed to keep.

  “You…” Harper balled up her fist and punched Brad in his stomach as hard as she could. “You…”

  The string of curses had several of the little girls turning. The dance teacher shooed them away from Harper, casting dirty looks behind her. Molly’s mouth had dropped open and her wide gaze was fixed on Harper. But her dad smiled at her through his choking breathing and she turned back to her friends.

  Scarlett had to use the power of the earth to keep her sister from lashing out again. But she was failing under Harper’s attempts to get free.

  “Quiet. Stream. Thoughts.” Scarlett ordered Harper with gritted teeth.

  “What is this?” Gram demanded from the side and Harper finally stopped fighting Scarlett to turn on their grandmother.

  “This jack…” Harper ground her teeth in sheer frustration and said, “He’s the reason the social worker showed up. He’s the reason that Bridget got spooked. He’s the mother…”

  “Damn it!” Scarlett said. “Damn it!”

  Gram glanced between her granddaughters and then at Brad. “So…he didn’t get her to mule?”

  “I bet Jimmy did that,” Scarlett said. “He just got her killed. Where is Lex?”

  “I didn’t get her killed,” Brad said glancing between all of them with his good-ole-boy gone to fat face.

  “You did,” Scarlett said. “You scared her. She took risks. And, I’d bet, found out what was happening with the drugs. She'd have left either way, but once she knew about the drugs, someone actually dangerous was hunting her.”

  “Lex showed up at Jimmy Day’s office and kicked us out,” Gram said. The look she gave Scarlett was nasty as if it were her fault that Gram couldn’t order the sheriff around.

  “Gram,” Scarlett said sarcastically, “Did your knowing tell you that Jimmy was the killer?”

  “Witches can’t arc bullets like Maeve said,” Gram said as sarcastically. “He was never the killer.”

  “Are you talking about my Dad?” Brad glanced up in horror. “Quit ruining my family.”

  “Please,” Harper said. She shook her hand and glanced him over as if she were willing to punch him again. Perhaps harder this time. “It isn’t Scarlett’s fault you were doing your wife’s best friend, it isn’t Scarlett’s fault that you married a mean girl and she lost it and killed your girlfriend, and it certainly isn’t our fault your dad is a…”

  “Creation,” Gram said precisely as if that were the worst thing she could say.

  “Is that an insult?” Scarlett glanced at Harper who shrugged, and they turned together to Gram who shrugged.

  “You know your dad is a piece of work,” Harper said carefully, fighting the string of curses. “You aren’t that surprised are you.”

  “But murder?”

  “No one said murder, geez,” Gram told him. “Get your head out of the clouds. You need to man up. Your Dad will go to jail for his part in making and running drugs. You have to run the dealership and take care of your kids.”

  Brad glanced between the three Oaken women, white-faced and flabbergasted. The dancing started and he fled towards the crowd watching the little girls hop about the stage.

  “But who…”

  “Who is the warlock making the drugs?” Scarlett asked. She rubbed her hands over her face and glanced at her family. Several members of the Circle approached as Scarlett looked helplessly to her sister as if she could somehow answer the question.

  “You think it’s Lex?” Harper tossed her hair and put her makeup bag back into her messenger. Everyone else looked at her in shock, and Harper grinned evilly.

  Cha
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  “Do you actually think your sister is really that stupid?” Gram asked. “She’s spent a fair amount of time with Lex. She should know. You think Scarlett’s sleeping with Lex? If she was, maybe.”

  “Heeeeyyyy,” Scarlett said. “Hey. Mean. Goodness, you two are mean. Who I sleep with is none of your business. And no! I am not sleeping with Lex.”

  “Or anyone,” Gram said snidely.

  “You’re talking about Gram,” Harper intervened. “Of course, she’s mean. And yes it is. Who you sleep with is the only thing I find generally interesting beyond shopping, magic, and your evil minions disguised as daughters.”

  “Scarlett’s the one who spent all that time with Lex. If Lex is making the drugs, Scarlett was just too distracted by how pretty Lex is to notice.” Gram fluffed her hair and then said, “Probably.”

  “It makes sense,” Harper said as Gus and Lex joined them in the center of the park. She talked louder as they approached rather than hiding what she was saying. “Lex is the sheriff now. If you were going to be a shady warlock coming into town to manufacture drugs—what better cover than being the sheriff?”

  “Are you saying that I killed Bridget?” He shrugged those wide shoulders of his and his expression seemed almost surprised.

  “Nah,” Harper said, chucking him on the shoulder. “I don’t think you'd have killed her. But are you manufacturing the drugs? ‘Cause I could totally buy that theory.”

  “The way that bullet curved towards Bridget is a warlock trick. You think I’m part of some gang of warlocks, but I’m the one what? Not ballsy enough to murder?”

  “You’re their pretty face, right? You’re the one who is the cop and distracts the…”

  “The druids?” Lex asked.

  Harper gasped and then said, “There he goes again. He is undervaluing us because we use…”

  “…flower magic?”

  “Flowers are complex souls,” Scarlett told Lex. “They’ll give their shorts lives, happily, to make someone happy and count their lives well lived. When you ask them for a flower, they never say no.”