Women Of The Otherworld - Dime Store Magic Part 33

"Are you okay?" Cortez asked as he slowed the car.

"Jostled, but fine. That was some driving."

"Where are we?" Savannah asked, sitting up.

"Heading home," I said.

Cortez glanced in the rearview mirror. "Unfortunately, we have something of a predicament. I would presume those officers made a note of our license plate."

"You're right. I didn't think of that."

"Not to worry. It simply means we have to abandon the car outside town and walk in through the woods. When we get to your house, you'll need to call Miss Levine and apprise her of the situation. If the police arrive before morning, she can claim the car was stolen while she slept. If they don't contact her by nine, I would advise that she call and report the car missing herself."

"Police?" Savannah said, blinking sleepily. "What police?"

"Don't ask," I said. "And don't ever cast that spell again. Please."

"I conjured cops?"

"In a manner of speaking," Cortez said. "I'm going to pull over up here. I believe that leaves us with about a twenty-minute walk."

He parked the car with the nose pulled into a stretch of forest, leaving the tail end out, so it could be found, but not easily.

"Should we leave the keys in the ignition?" I said as I hoisted my knapsack onto my shoulder.

"No. That would raise too many questions as to how the thieves obtained the keys. Better to make this look like a typical car-theft."

He opened his jacket and pulled out a tiny tool case.

"You're going to hot-wire the car?" Savannah said, leaning over the seat. "Cool. Did you boost cars when you were a kid?"

"Certainly not."

"Let me guess," I said. "Another of those questionable, but necessary skills. Like knowing how to un-conjure ghosts and drive a getaway car."

"Precisely."

"How many cars have you boosted?" Savannah asked as we got out of the car and headed down the road on foot.

"Two. Both times, I a.s.sure you, it was an absolute last resort. I found myself without transportation and in urgent need of it. Fortunately, neither vehicle was damaged and I was able to leave it in a safe place, after was.h.i.+ng it and filling the tank."

I grinned. "Bet that had the cops scratching their heads. A conscientious car thief."

Savannah rolled her eyes. "Don't you guys ever do anything bad?"

"I lifted a tube of lipstick when I was twelve."

"Yeah. You told me about that one." She looked at Cortez. "Know what she did? Stole it, then felt so bad she mailed the money to the store. Tax included. You guys are really setting a bad example, you know."

"A bad bad example?" example?"

"Sure. How do you expect me to live up to it? I'm going to need serious therapy someday."

"Don't worry," I said. "I've budgeted for that."

"She probably has," Savannah muttered. "What about-"

"Car coming," I said. "Off the road."

We tramped into a field.

"Do you do this a lot, Lucas?" Savannah asked. "Car chases and evading the cops and stuff?"

"On occasion, though I would hesitate to say it qualified as 'often.' "

"The real question is: How often do you have to do it this often?" I said.

He smiled. "Not often."

"So, we're special?" Savannah said.

"Very special."

"I don't think that's good," I said.

I transferred the knapsack to my other shoulder. Cortez reached to take it from me, but I waved him back.

Savannah tripped in a groundhog hole, then jogged up beside Cortez. "So what kind of case is this? Compared to your other ones?"

"Frenetic."

She glanced at me for clarification.

"He means we're keeping him busy," I said. "Mainly because we're causing half the trouble ourselves."

Cortez smiled. "I must admit, you two do have a unique predilection for creating new challenges."

"Unique," Savannah said. "He means we're special."

"Uh-huh."

We reentered the house the same way we'd left, coming through the woods, then darting across the yard and in the back door. A quick peek out the front confirmed that such caution was still warranted. There were still three or four people camped out on my lawn. One of them had even erected a pup tent. Maybe I should have started charging site rental fees.

After sending Savannah off to bed, I called Margaret.

The conversation went something like this: Me: Ummm, we had a problem with your car. . .

Her: An accident! Oh, dear, no. My insurance rates- Me: Not an accident. We're all fine, including the car. We just had to ditch it.

Her: You drove it into the ditch?

Me: Sorry, I meant "abandon." The police saw the license number and- Her: Police?

Me: Everything's fine, but when the police find it, say it was stolen.

Her: Stolen?

Me: Right. Say it was in the driveway when you went to bed and you never saw it again. Don't mention the keys. And if the police say anything about the cemetery- Her: Cemetery?

Me: Tell them you don't know anything about it.

Her: But I don't!

Me: Good. Whatever they say, you know nothing. You haven't seen me in days. If they find my prints in your car, it's because I borrowed it last month, okay?

Her: Prints? Do you mean fingerprints? What on earth have you- Me: Gotta go. Thanks for letting us borrow the car. I'll make it up to you. Bye.

When I walked into the living room, Cortez was standing in front of the television, flipping through channels.

"TV," I said as I collapsed onto the sofa. "Great invention. The perfect mindless antidote for a h.e.l.lish day. So what's on?"

"Night of the Living Dead."

"Ha-ha."

"I'm quite serious."

He turned back a few channels and stopped on a black-and-white image of the moaning undead lurching around a farmhouse.

"Kinda looks familiar," I said. "Haven't I seen this before?"

"Yesterday," he said. "In the funeral home."

"No, that's not it. Those undead were much scarier. And they didn't lurch. Well, Cary did, but only 'cause he was kind of squashed. Hmmm, where have I seen this?

Ghouls surrounding a house, trapping the inhabitants within, refusing to leave. Wait! That's my front lawn. Look, there's a naked woman! Bet she's a Wiccan."

Cortez chuckled. "I'm glad you can laugh about it."

I hesitated, then glanced over at him. "You know, if this gets to be too much. . . I mean, this isn't quite the nice, easy court case you probably imagined. I'd understand if you wanted to back out."

"And miss all the fun?" He shot a crooked grin my way. "Never."

We looked at each other a moment, then he quickly turned to the TV and started channel-surfing.

"No, wait," I said. "Go back to the movie. I could use some light entertainment. Flesh-eating zombies might be just the ticket."

He returned to the old movie, then glanced from the recliner to the couch, as if trying to decide where to sit. I gestured at the other end of the sofa. He nodded and sat beside me.

"What're we watching?" Savannah said, bouncing into the room wearing her nightgown.

"Paige and I are watching Night of the Living Dead Night of the Living Dead. You are going to bed."

"I just conjured a cemetery full of spirits. I think I'm old enough to watch a horror movie." She plopped into the recliner. "Do we have chips or anything?"

"You think I've been shopping lately?" I said. "Pretty soon we'll be down to pickles and preserves."

"Are those the zombies?" she said. "Talk about lame."

"It's an old film," I said. "The special effects aren't very advanced."

"What special effects? That's a guy with mascara smeared under his eyes. I've seen scarier people at the mall."

"Did Paige tell you to go to bed, Savannah?" Cortez said.

"Oh, fine," she said. "It's a dumb movie anyway."

She flounced from the room. A few minutes later, I sighed.

"It is a pretty dumb movie," I said. "But I'm too wired to sleep."

"I, uh, believe you mentioned something about new grimoires?"

I sat up. "Geez, that's right. I almost forgot. I wanted to try them out tonight."

"You were, I believe, going to tell me. . ." He let the sentence fade out.

I grinned. "I was going to tell you about them, wasn't I?"

So I did.

Chapter 38.

Pressure Valve "It's possible," he said when I finished telling him about the grimoires.

"Possible? Are you saying my logic is flawed?"