Blood Creek Witch Page 18

  “I don’t know that for sure. But, I can’t help but think of what he’d do if he managed to get his hands on a whole mess of ogres.”

  “What should I do?”

  “I can’t tell you that, sweetheart. I can’t interfere.”

  “Can you still teach me?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  Jenny took a deep breath. “Then teach me how you broke Evelyn’s control on that ogre.”

  “All I did was disrupt the spell. It’s like dimming the lights for a few seconds.”

  “Then teach me that.”

  Hattie smiled. “I’d love to. We can start as soon as I get out of here. Also, I promised Jessabelle that she could take a look at your grandma’s journal. That’s still a good idea. You two ought to know more about her. My mama was one of the few people I know who could stand up to that man. It wouldn’t hurt to know as much about her as you can find out.”

  “Okay. But what should we do if Evelyn comes looking for Grandma Annabelle’s journal?”

  “You leave her be. Give her the journal if you have to. She’s extremely powerful and dangerous, even without the ogre. You hear me?”

  Jenny exhaled deeply, grabbing Hattie by the hand and holding tightly. “I do. I will. I know I’m no match for her.”

  Hattie half-smiled. “One more thing.”

  “What?”

  “When you disobey me and try to take her on, you make sure you kick her ass so hard and fast she’ll have to buy a plane ticket to come back down again, alright? Don’t let up or give her a chance to realize you can be a real threat.”

  Hattie squeezed her hand. Jenny squeezed back.

  The ground’s pretty dry,” Jack said as they stood by the wreckage of Hattie’s truck. “Still, you’d think something that huge would leave a big ol’ trail to follow no matter what the ground was like.”

  “I reckon I can find him,” Jessabelle said. She checked to make sure nobody could see her, and then in a heartbeat she transformed into a black housecat.

  Jack removed his John Deere hat and wiped the sweat from his forehead. “Dang, Jessabelle. I don’t think seeing you do that is ever going to get old.”

  It might have been his imagination, but he thought the cat posed for a moment in a look of pride. She roamed through the grass, stopping and sniffing and touching it with the side of her face. Then she raced forward, checking to make sure Jack followed. Jack continued along behind her toward the Casto farm. He was starting up the hill toward the forest along his usual path when he realized Jessabelle was no longer leading him.

  A quick search revealed a spot of black in the grass by the Casto’s field. He knelt down beside her. She was alert, ears back, staring at the barn and quivering ever-so-slightly.

  He raised his hand to give the cat a comforting pet, and then froze as he realized what he was doing. He played it off, moving his suspended hand to adjust his book-bag. He blushed, and looked away toward the barn, trying not to look at her. He’d been friendly with the stray cats in town. Had he ever pet her as the black cat earlier in his life, while having no clue? What did she think of that, if it ever happened?

  She transformed back, making him extra relieved he’d stopped himself from stroking her. The grass crunched beneath her new size and weight. She remained crouched and still shivered. “It’s in the barn,” she whispered.

  “That can’t be right. The one I hid in the other night?” He almost said, “we hid.” But she had used her ability to escape, hadn’t she?

  She didn’t take her eyes off the building. “Yes, there.”

  “That don’t make any sense. Casto uses his barn almost every day.”

  “I ain’t got to explain it. It’s in there. Can’t you smell it?”

  Jack sniffed at the air. At first, he didn’t detect much beyond the summer grass. The wind shifted, and he smelled something rotten. “Ugh!” he said quietly. “I don’t recall what that ogre smelled like, but it wasn’t that! That’s rotten meat!”

  Jessabelle nodded. “Yeah. Something is dead in there, ain’t no doubt about it. But the ogre is there too.”

  “The barn didn’t smell like that the other night. Something is going on in there. I believe you. So if we know where it is, now what?”

  Jessabelle glanced at him briefly before returning her stare to the barn. “Ordinarily, I’d just tell Hattie.”

  “We could tell folks at the meeting tonight. But, I’d like to know more.” His mind filled with ideas, all of them stupid. Jack classified them into “getting killed stupid” and “probably not getting killed stupid,” and focused on the second, smaller list. He stood up and approached the Casto’s house.

  “Jack!” Jessabelle cried out in a stage-whisper voice. “What are you doing?”

  “Nothing! I’m just going to go talk to John Casto is all.” He made his way to the house by a path that took him nowhere close to the barn. When he glanced back over his shoulder, Jessabelle was gone. Probably hiding in cat-form again. He smiled to himself. Nope, that wasn’t ever going to get old, and it was plenty cool.

  He knocked on the door, and Mrs. Casto opened it. Jack rarely saw her except at church, or sometimes out in the field with her husband, especially now that their kids were grown and only came around to help during planting and harvesting season. She seemed plump, but there was as much muscle there as fat. Her silver hair had been blonde once, and she wore it in an old-fashioned bun. She looked at Jack with eyes that didn’t quite seem to focus at first, as if she’d been sleeping. “Why, you are the Parsons boy ain’t ya? I know your ma. Quite the beauty she was. Yeah. Quite the beauty.” She looked up with a stare, seeming to forget Jack was standing there.

  Jack hadn’t thought that Mrs. Casto’s mind had been failing, and he didn’t smell any alcohol. “Yes, ma’am, that’s me. Jack Parsons. My mama speaks highly of you.”

  “Does she now? Well, isn’t she sweet? Come on in. It’s too early for lunch, ain’t it? I haven’t made anything yet, what with John out of town and everything.”

  “I’m sorry, did you say Mr. Casto was out of town?”

  “Yes. He’s away on business. I’m not sure when he’s getting back. A few days, maybe? My memory ain’t what it used to be. But he’s going to be getting me that new dress for church, I just know it. My birthday’s coming up, you know. I’ll be fifty-eight.”

  Jack pointed a thumb at the barn. “Did he say anything about storing anything in the barn before he left?”

  Mrs. Casto’s eyes grew large and focused as tears formed. “No! No! Do not go into the barn, whatever you do!” She leaned into him, lips quivering. “Please, John, don’t go in there. It’ll kill…” She righted herself, and her eyes resumed their unfocused stare. She wiped her eyes and said, “Oh, sorry ‘bout that. I been having these strange cryin’ spells, lately. Hormones, I s’pose. Oh, that nice lady in Billy King’s ol’ house got herself a new tractor, and is storing it in our barn until she can build her own.”

  Jack was confused. “Wait. You say she’s storing a tractor in there?”

  For a moment, the hysteria reappeared in Mrs. Casto’s eyes, but it quickly faded. “Yes, just a tractor, that’s all. Nothing to worry about, just keep the barn closed until John gets back from business.”

  “Okay. Thanks, Mrs. Casto. Goodbye.”

  “Y’all come back now, uh, and tell your mama not to be a stranger.”

  Jack walked back, feeling dazed himself. Something was really, really wrong, and he had a hunch at what. As he got the road, Jessabelle appeared in human form, though where she’d been hiding he couldn’t say. He opened his mouth to say something to her when she slugged him in the arm.

  “Ow!” Jack said, rubbing his arm. “What’s that for?”

  “I’m hopin’ it’ll help beat the fool out of you, Jack Parsons!” She balled up her fist and let it fly again, but Jack stepped back so she only brushed his shoulder this time. “And one more for good measure. What were you thinking? I know you sure weren’t thin
king, `oh, maybe the Castos are working with Evelyn, or she got them bewitched, and will tell her that we’ve been snooping around so she can have us killt.’ Nope, you weren’t thinking that, were you? Fool.”

  Jack rubbed his arm as the pain faded. “No, I wasn’t. And yes, I think Mrs. Casto’s bewitched. But not like that. I think the ogre killed John Casto, and the witch has got his wife believing a made-up story. That or Mrs. Casto’s gone ‘round the bend.” He wiggled his finger in a circle near his temple to illustrate the point.

  “You think people are going to believe that tonight?”

  Jack shook his head. “No. They ain’t. But they’ll believe the ogre in the barn when they see it.”

  Sean stumbled onto Hattie’s property after noon, re-energized with fear at the sight of the truck’s wreckage. He tore across the remaining distance to the trailer, shoving aside the blanket hung across the entrance where the door had been ripped off. “Hattie! Jenny!” he called.

  Jack appeared in the hallway, carrying a half-full trash bag. “They ain’t here.”

  “Are they okay?”

  Jack shrugged. “Hattie got beat up pretty bad. Jenny’s with her. We’re doing some clean-up until then. Couple of folks might be over shortly to see what they can fix.”

  Sean exhaled through chapped lips. “I wanted to warn them, but Evelyn did something to me.”

  “She did something to Hattie too. She brought that ogre here to kill her. She could have killed them both.”

  “I’m sorry. I tried. I… is there anything I can do to help?”

  “We don’t need his help!” Jessabelle said as she emerged from behind the blanket. “He works for her!”

  “I don’t work for her. We just had kind of a deal. I have ghost problems.”

  Jessabelle put her hands on her hips. “Want to compare your ghost problems to our ogre problems?”

  Sean shook his head. “No. Not really. I want that ogre gone as much as you do.”

  “Prove it!”

  “What do you want me to do, find it and get killed by it?”

  Jack shook his head. “We already know where it is.”

  Jessabelle shushed him. “Don’t tell him. He’s going to tell Evelyn.”

  “No, I won’t. I don’t even want to see her.”

  “She’ll likely be at the meeting,” Jack offered.

  “What meeting?” asked Sean.

  They were interrupted by Preacher Harris pulling up in his tiny hatchback. Only Jenny got out, to their combined disappointment. The preacher opened his car door and half-stepped out from the car to talk to them. “If y’all can give me a few minutes, I’ll go get changed and come help clean up.”

  Jack was quick to answer, “No, that’s fine. We got it for now. We hoped Hattie would be back this afternoon.”

  “Not yet. I’ll be checking up on her again tonight.”

  Jack nodded. Harris got back in the car, turned around, and drove back down the hill to the church. Jack frowned as he drove off. “I don’t understand him. Sunday he was talking about how evil she was and everything, and now he’s all wanting to take charge of helping her.”

  Sean shrugged. “Maybe he believes in hating the sin, loving the sinner?”

  Jack looked at him curiously. Sean shrugged. “I never really went to church except Easter and Christmas. That’s just something I heard.”

  “How’s Aunt Hattie? Really?” Jessabelle asked Jenny.

  “Recovering. She’ll probably stay at the hospital for a few days.” She turned to Sean. “I wanted to thank you, by the way.”

  “For what?”

  “For the warning.”

  All three of them looked at Jenny, confused. Jenny said, “A ghost warned us Evelyn was coming. Otherwise, we might both be dead right now.”

  Sean had seen a lot of ghosts the last couple of days, but only one could have offered a warning. “Debbie?”

  Jenny nodded. A strange feeling flooded through Sean. It wasn’t quite relief, but it was warm and it replaced some of the stress. He licked his lips. They hurt. “Is there any chance I can get some water or something? I don’t want to go back to Evelyn’s.”

  Jack looked over at Jenny. “Uh, water’s working fine. So, are we trusting him now?”

  Jessabelle still looked skeptical, but didn’t protest. They went inside, and Jack poured water for everyone. Sean downed his glass in seconds, and asked for more. The power to the air conditioning for the living room was not working, and it was already hot. Still, Sean was grateful to be indoors.

  Jenny opened the doors to the other rooms and set their air conditioners running full blast, then found a fan to help blow the air toward the living room. It wasn’t much, but it helped. With everyone in the living room, Jenny said, “I met Evelyn’s boss this morning. He warned Hattie not to get involved. He threatened to take Jessabelle away. He knew about you.”

  Sean wasn’t sure what they were referring to, but Jessabelle’s face hardened. “Like hell he will,” she said.

  “Do you know about this guy?” Jenny asked Sean.

  “No. I mean, Evelyn’s mentioned him, but no details. Who is he?”

  Jenny shrugged. “He’s a thin, balding guy who likes wearing white suits. He speaks with a southern accent, not like the accent here.”

  The pit of Sean’s stomach felt lined with lead. “I think I met that guy at a waffle place a few days ago. He was the one who suggested I come here. I thought he was a traveling salesman or something.”

  Rumor has it you’ve been all over the northern half of the state researching a ghost, Evelyn had told him. I was looking for you last night. I have my sources.

  He’d been hunted down by the man in the white suit, who had manipulated him into coming here. Sean hadn’t been lucky to find this place after all. It had been a plan. Even though it was what he’d wanted, the dread in his stomach turned to anger, not only at the man in the white suit, but at himself for leaving such an obvious trail.

  You may hate me tonight, but this is for the best.

  He hated her today.

  “I’m sorry. This is my fault,” Sean said. “Evelyn tracked me to the old witch house last night.”

  Three pairs of eyes stared at him accusingly. There was nothing left but to explain it all. And he did. He told them about Debbie. He told them about Evelyn and Avery the murderous ghost, and about the mysterious bottle with the blue glow hanging on the tree.

  “A blue glow?” Jenny asked.

  Sean shrugged. “Yeah. I tried to take a picture of it, but the glow didn’t show up in the image.” He pulled out his phone, but it had run out of power sometime during the night. “It looked like it was a few years old. I found it back at the source of a little stream.”

  “That’d be the top of Blood Creek,” Jack said. “I’ve been there a couple of times. Lots of mosquitoes there, though, so I ain’t been back in a while.”

  Jenny said, “Maybe when all this is over, we can go see it.”

  Jack grinned. “Hopefully that’ll be tomorrow. There’s a meeting at the church tonight, and somebody asked for me to be there. I’m going to tell them that Evelyn is behind Hattie’s house getting all smashed up, and that she has the ogre stashed away in the Casto’s barn.”

  “Will they believe you? Will they care?” Jenny asked.

  Jessabelle spoke up. “We’re both telling them this time. Folks might call us both liars, but we may get the whole town out to kill the ogre tonight. And nobody’s going to be too happy with Evelyn either.” She smiled in a way that Sean’s sister did when she was plotting a particularly cruel revenge. “You going to come?”

  Jenny shook her head. “There’s a ghost in the church who doesn’t like me much. I don’t think my voice would carry much weight, being new here. But if you need me, let me know.”

  Jessabelle looked about to say something, but then glanced at Sean and closed up. She still didn’t trust him. Could he blame her?

  “I hate to impose,” he said, “But I
don’t really have a place to go right now. Any chance I could hang out here, maybe get cleaned up and something to eat?”

  Jenny looked a little like a deer in the headlights. “Um…”

  Jessabelle, surprisingly, came to the rescue. “If Hattie were here, she’d say yes. Make yourself at home.”

  Sean looked at her in confusion. “Really?”

  Jessabelle shrugged. “I’m just saying that’s what she’d say. Jenny and I may have to leave for a bit, okay?” She looked over at Jack. “I’ll meet you at the church.”

  They were all hot, dirty, and exhausted. But they had a plan. As much as Sean feared Avery’s reappearance, he now feared Evelyn more. Whatever she was planning in Maple Bend, people were now getting hurt, and the town was getting angry. They’d end it tonight.

  Jenny’s favorite part of the plan for the evening was how little she was in it. Not that she was unwilling to help Jessabelle or Jack. Maybe Sean, too, although she had doubts about him. She was more comfortable supporting from the background, although she didn’t know if this was her own preference or simply upbringing. Here, she was the outsider. Jack and Jessabelle would get to be the heroes.

  After a feast of peanut butter and honey sandwiches, they all pitched in to finish cleaning up the damage from the night before. The living room grew hotter and stuffier as the afternoon progressed. Jack returned home to clean up, and Sean took a shower. Meanwhile, Jessabelle and Jenny took refuge outside, where a breeze provided some minor relief from the heat.

  Jessabelle said, “You saved a journal, didn’t you?”

  Jenny nodded. “How did you know?”

  Jessabelle looked down at the ground. “I saw part of what happened. I’m sorry. I should have helped. But I was so afraid.”

  Jenny shook her head. “It’s okay. I don’t know if there was much that either of us could have done. Hattie needed us safe.”

  “Was it the one by Grandma Annabelle? Can you get it back?”

  “Do you want to see it? I read through most of it. I didn’t find much that might help us.”

  Jessabelle nodded. “When I was a little girl, my daddy taught me a way to hide smaller secret messages inside of normal ones. You used different words depending on the first letter of each line. Grandma taught him that trick, if he wanted to let us know something important as a soldier when someone else might be reading his messages.”