Bewitched (Betwixt & Between #2) - Darynda Jones Page 0,77

the first spell that came to mind, thrust it out to her, and held my breath as thousands upon thousands of pounds of rubble began falling around her.

Then I waited. And prayed.

Fifteen

May the bridges I burn light the way.

-Proverb

“I don’t mean to sound like an ingrate, daffodil,” the chief said to me as he examined the frozen corpse laying in James Vogel’s freezer. “But maybe you should stay home for a few days.” He looked at Vogel’s wife and shook his head.

I concurred. “I’m inclined to agree with you.”

“How’re we gonna explain this one, Chief?” the coroner asked. She’d clearly had the day off and used it to rack up some time at the spa. Telltale signs of a mud mask still framed her gorgeous dark face.

“That’s a canister of liquid nitrogen, isn’t it?”

The woman looked at a container of oxygen Vogel kept next to his MIG welder and nodded. “I do believe it is.”

“Freak accident, I’d say.” He turned to me and then glanced at Minerva.

Still huddling in the corner, she’d covered her face with her hands, looking almost as pitiful as her abused fingertips.

“It’s a miracle you girls weren’t caught in the blast when it exploded.”

“It is.” Minerva dropped her hands to her side, her face wary. She probably wasn’t sure what to think of the chief’s willingness to help us.

“Care to explain this?” he asked her.

Her gaze drifted to her aunt, and she hugged herself. “He killed her a couple of weeks ago and had planned on reporting her missing after he went through her papers. She’d inherited some money—a lot of money—but it was being held at a high-security bank vault in Boston. He knew it would take years to get the courts to declare her dead. For him to get access to the box. So, he needed Defiance to bring her back to life so she could get the money out.”

“And then what?” the chief asked. “He was going to kill her again?”

A shiver ran through her. “I don’t know.”

He took off his police issue visor cap and scratched his head. “When did you find all this out?”

“About a week ago. He knew I did magic. At first, he wanted me to figure out how to get to the money. But I have no idea how to do that kind of magic. If it even exists.” She looked at me pleadingly. “I’m so sorry. I knew once he figured out I couldn’t get to the money, he’d kill me. I knew too much. So, I told him . . . I told him what you did for Ruthie and . . .” Her voice cracked,

“Minerva, it’s okay.”

“I wanted to warn you,” she said. “He took my phone and was watching every move I made. I had to pretend to be on his side. I was trying to tell you at the café, but he got suspicious.” She buried her face in her arm, crying into her jacket.

I walked over to her and put a hand on her shoulder. “Minerva, who can I call? You need to be with someone.”

She sniffed and shook her head. “No, I’m okay.

“Are your parents in Salem?”

“No, we don’t . . . they don’t talk to me. They think I’ve been possessed by Satan.”

“I beg your pardon.” And then it hit me. “Because you practice witchcraft.” And they obviously practiced witch discrimination.

She nodded as a sob shook her shoulders. “My aunt was the only one who was nice to me. She took me in when my parents kicked me out. I kept telling her it was time I get my own place, but she didn’t want me to move out. I think”—she gazed up at me—“I think she really loved me.”

I pulled her into my arms. “I’m sure she did.” Over her shoulder, I spotted my ride across the street from all the flashing lights—a little flashy himself, leaning all GQ like against his pickup—and had a sudden urge to leave. “Chief, can we go?”

“Sure. I’ll stop by later for an official statement, but this looks pretty cut and dried. Witnesses saw him take you from the café. They alerted my officers there, but you were already gone.”

I led Minera away, but the chief stopped me. “Hey, where’s that fruitcake friend of yours? Your dads said she was missing?”

I smiled. “I’ll tell you when you come by later.”

Minerva saw where we were headed. Or, more to the point, who we were headed toward. “Yeah, I don’t want to be a bother.