T*Witches: Double Jeopardy by H.B. Gilmour, Randi Reisfeld Page B
Authors: H.B. Gilmour, Randi Reisfeld
Ads: Link
consciousness.
“I’m sorry,” was the first thing he said when he recognized them. “It was whack. I shouldn’t have gone alone —”
“Hey, no probs,” Alex assured him. “We found you. You’re okay. Or you will be as soon as we —”
“I’ll be okay, but his next victim won’t.” Dylan tried to get up but couldn’t manage it. “He’s going after someone else. I heard him when I was in the back of his van. I heard him setting up another ‘date.’ Same lies. Telling her he’s sixteen and into parasailing and white-water rafting and hot-dog skiing. For all I know, he’s got her already.”
The outburst exhausted him. He slumped back heavily against the tree.
“Is that his hat?” Alex asked as Dylan’s eyes driftedshut. “Kenya described it,” she explained. Glancing at Cam, she added silently,
We can track the bozo through his cap
—
thanks to Uncle T
.
Yeah, if we had quartz crystal and mandrake and chickenbrain
—
Henbane
, Alex corrected her.
Voilà!
She tossed something to Camryn.
Unc the skunk’s herb pouch!
Cam was impressed.
How did you — ?
I’m getting soooo good
, her sister crowed.
I did the beg-and-boost thing; you know, stared at it, wanted it, wished for it — and boom!
Gently, Alex took RideBoy’s knit cap from Dylan.
“He shoved me out of the van,” the boy murmured. “I snagged his hat when he pushed me. And I’ve got his license plate number. How’s Kenya doing?”
“Better than Mom and Dad,” Cam said.
“Oh, man.” Dylan held his head in his hands. “I really messed up this time.”
“Well, yeah.”
“But you also caught a creep,” Alex pointed out, brushing mud and leaves from Dylan’s hair. “I mean, with his license plate number and your description of him and Kenya’s story of what went down — and don’t forget his hat. That may turn out to be really valuable,” she said, glancing significantly at Cam.
If we can grab a couple ofminutes’ worth of privacy to play Unc’s tracker trick with it
. “I mean, a really valuable … you know, piece of evidence.”
Cam nodded. “Know what, Dyl? My cellular won’t work down here. Why don’t Alex and I try to find better reception, while you just hang here for a few minutes more, okay?”
“Sure,” Dylan said groggily.
“Okay. Be back in a minute,” she assured him as they started away.
“How come both of you have to go?” Dyl called after them.
They stopped, looked searchingly at each other, and turned back to Dylan. His eyes were shut; his breathing was heavy but rhythmic. “He’s out,” Alex whispered. “Come on. We’ll do the Situater, find out where the sicko’s skulking, and be right back.”
They went toward the choppy bay, then followed the uneven shoreline to an unexpected opening in the sea grass. Walking inland, between the rustling reeds, they came to an alley of overhanging branches. At the end of it, several yards of brush and trees had been cleared. The tamped-down area formed a nearly perfect circle surrounded by stones and strangely imposing evergreens, majestic and menacing.
An icy wind rattled through the trees, raising goosebumps on Cam’s neck and arms. Alex felt it, too, as she stared up at the towering firs and spruces. “Maybe this isn’t the right spot,” she ventured. “There’s something … I don’t know … ugly about it, don’t you think?”
“It’s majorly spooky,” Cam concurred. “There’s something here that … I can’t explain it, Als, but it reminds me of or makes me think of Karsh. Not
our
Karsh, not our funny, scary-looking, nubby-headed, sweet grand-guardian, but a cold, gray, lost Karsh —”
Alex shuddered and, in a gesture of defiance, pulled open Thantos’s leather pouch. “Let’s do this thing,” she said. “Now. Situate RideBoy, 911 the cops, and get out of here. Fast.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHOICES
Ileana was angry. She was an equal-opportunity blamer.
Enraged at Thantos, she stomped around her cottage,
“I’m sorry,” was the first thing he said when he recognized them. “It was whack. I shouldn’t have gone alone —”
“Hey, no probs,” Alex assured him. “We found you. You’re okay. Or you will be as soon as we —”
“I’ll be okay, but his next victim won’t.” Dylan tried to get up but couldn’t manage it. “He’s going after someone else. I heard him when I was in the back of his van. I heard him setting up another ‘date.’ Same lies. Telling her he’s sixteen and into parasailing and white-water rafting and hot-dog skiing. For all I know, he’s got her already.”
The outburst exhausted him. He slumped back heavily against the tree.
“Is that his hat?” Alex asked as Dylan’s eyes driftedshut. “Kenya described it,” she explained. Glancing at Cam, she added silently,
We can track the bozo through his cap
—
thanks to Uncle T
.
Yeah, if we had quartz crystal and mandrake and chickenbrain
—
Henbane
, Alex corrected her.
Voilà!
She tossed something to Camryn.
Unc the skunk’s herb pouch!
Cam was impressed.
How did you — ?
I’m getting soooo good
, her sister crowed.
I did the beg-and-boost thing; you know, stared at it, wanted it, wished for it — and boom!
Gently, Alex took RideBoy’s knit cap from Dylan.
“He shoved me out of the van,” the boy murmured. “I snagged his hat when he pushed me. And I’ve got his license plate number. How’s Kenya doing?”
“Better than Mom and Dad,” Cam said.
“Oh, man.” Dylan held his head in his hands. “I really messed up this time.”
“Well, yeah.”
“But you also caught a creep,” Alex pointed out, brushing mud and leaves from Dylan’s hair. “I mean, with his license plate number and your description of him and Kenya’s story of what went down — and don’t forget his hat. That may turn out to be really valuable,” she said, glancing significantly at Cam.
If we can grab a couple ofminutes’ worth of privacy to play Unc’s tracker trick with it
. “I mean, a really valuable … you know, piece of evidence.”
Cam nodded. “Know what, Dyl? My cellular won’t work down here. Why don’t Alex and I try to find better reception, while you just hang here for a few minutes more, okay?”
“Sure,” Dylan said groggily.
“Okay. Be back in a minute,” she assured him as they started away.
“How come both of you have to go?” Dyl called after them.
They stopped, looked searchingly at each other, and turned back to Dylan. His eyes were shut; his breathing was heavy but rhythmic. “He’s out,” Alex whispered. “Come on. We’ll do the Situater, find out where the sicko’s skulking, and be right back.”
They went toward the choppy bay, then followed the uneven shoreline to an unexpected opening in the sea grass. Walking inland, between the rustling reeds, they came to an alley of overhanging branches. At the end of it, several yards of brush and trees had been cleared. The tamped-down area formed a nearly perfect circle surrounded by stones and strangely imposing evergreens, majestic and menacing.
An icy wind rattled through the trees, raising goosebumps on Cam’s neck and arms. Alex felt it, too, as she stared up at the towering firs and spruces. “Maybe this isn’t the right spot,” she ventured. “There’s something … I don’t know … ugly about it, don’t you think?”
“It’s majorly spooky,” Cam concurred. “There’s something here that … I can’t explain it, Als, but it reminds me of or makes me think of Karsh. Not
our
Karsh, not our funny, scary-looking, nubby-headed, sweet grand-guardian, but a cold, gray, lost Karsh —”
Alex shuddered and, in a gesture of defiance, pulled open Thantos’s leather pouch. “Let’s do this thing,” she said. “Now. Situate RideBoy, 911 the cops, and get out of here. Fast.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHOICES
Ileana was angry. She was an equal-opportunity blamer.
Enraged at Thantos, she stomped around her cottage,
Similar Books
