Bewitched (Betwixt & Between #2) - Darynda Jones Page 0,73
to. The place was packed, and it was the only available seat.
“I’m Belinda.” She stretched out her hand. “You met my grandmother the other day. Serinda McClain?”
“Oh, yes.” I relaxed. “She’s a firecracker.” I didn’t want to assume she knew her grandmother was a witch—you know what they say about assuming—so I treated it like an unmentionable and well, didn’t mention it.
After a placating laugh, Belinda nodded. “To say the least. I’m glad I ran into you. My grandmother is . . . getting up in age.”
“Okay.”
“She seems to think your grandmother is still alive.”
Well, that was unexpected. “She told you this?”
“Of course not. She tells us kids nothing.”
Kids. Sheesh. Belinda was my age. “So, you eavesdropped?”
“My brother did. Anyway, he heard her talking to some of her cohorts. She and that ridiculous coven think you’re some kind of”—she leaned in and lowered her voice—“all-powerful being.”
“Ah. I wasn’t sure you knew about . . . the lifestyle.”
“I don’t.” She sniffed. “Not much. My grandmother swears I have talent, and I’m wasting it, but I don’t believe in any of that hocus-pocus nonsense.” She wiggled her fingers.
“I didn’t either until a few months ago.”
“That’s why I’m here. She’s told me a few things about you, trying to lure me back to the coven, no doubt. I need you to talk to her. I saw your grandmother’s body.” She leaned in again. “She wasn’t alive. I’m so sorry for your loss, by the way.” She covered my hand with hers for a split second before yanking it away, like she was afraid of catching something.
“Thank you.”
“It’s just, if my grandmother doesn’t stop all this nonsense, we will have to put her in a home.”
“Will you?”
“We’ll have no choice.” She picked up a napkin and dabbed at eyes so dry I thought about offering her some drops.
“Who does she tell all of this to?”
“Excuse me?” Belinda said from behind the napkin.
“Does she tell your brother?”
“Goodness, no.” She put it down. “He would’ve had her committed years ago.”
“So, she tells you.”
“Like I said, she thinks I’m . . . she thinks I’m a witch.”
“Are you sure you aren’t?” I took a sip of hot chocolate. “I never dreamed any of this was possible, either, but here we are.”
“Oh.” She folded the napkin and smoothed it on the table. “You’re one of them. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were a part of her coven already.”
“I’m not.” It hit me then. The thing she was searching for. And it certainly wasn’t what I would’ve expected.
“Thank you for your time.” She started to get up.
“You can ask me, you know.”
“I’m sorry?”
“The thing you’re searching for. You can ask me where it is.”
She scoffed and shook her head. “I’m not searching for anything.”
“That’s just it.” I leaned forward as though to confide in her, this utter non-believer. “You are. But I can’t figure out how I know that. I mean, isn’t everyone searching for something? Why can’t I see his or hers or . . . well, hers I can see.” I pointed around the room in a quick game of Duck, Duck Goose, stopping at an ebony-haired police officer a few tables down. “I think she recognized me. But for the most part, nada. And then there are some that I just know.”
She repositioned herself in front of me. “Okay, I’ll bite. What am I searching for?”
“The crystal elephant your father bought you at the state fair. You were in . . . the second grade, I think?”
She went deathly still.
“It was clear, the glass smooth, with blue around the ears.”
She swallowed hard. “My grandmother told you that.”
“So, your grandmother knew?”
She dropped her gaze to the table in thought.
“Didn’t think so. You were playing cars in the dirt with your brother. At the house on Elm? When you weren’t looking, he buried it. It’s still there.”
“That’s . . . you can’t possibly know that.” She looked up.
“It meant everything to you. You were clutching it after the accident as the first responders used the jaws of life to try to save your parents. You remember the smell of gas and burning plastic. The sound of running and shouting. The feel of the seatbelt as it cut across your waist, suspending you upside down.” I reached over and covered her hand. “They did everything they could, but it was too late for your parents.”
Tears of astonishment and disbelief filled her eyes. She jerked her hand back. “Stop,” she whispered.