Sisters Of The Craft: Heat Of The Moment Part 28

Little worried. Call me.

Owen's thumb hovered above the delete b.u.t.ton, then he put the phone back in his pocket without touching it. He might want to listen to that message again on a dark night in Afghanistan. There'd been many times in the past when he'd wished he could hear Becca's voice anywhere other than in his imagination.

She did sound worried. He should call her. But what he really wanted was to see her, touch her, kiss her, hold her.

His gaze wandered over the circus on Route GG. From the looks of this, that wasn't going to happen for a while.

George had pulled up less than a minute after Peggy died. The two of them commenced CPR, only stopping when the EMTs arrived and commenced it for themselves. They didn't have any better luck. They were loading the body into the now silent ambulance when George took out his notebook and pen. "What happened?"

Owen took a deep breath, opened his mouth, and let both breath and words out.

"A break," the officer murmured when Owen finished.

"Stabbed," Owen said. "Not broken."

George cast him a disgusted glance. "A break in the case."

"Which one? You seem to have a crime spree right now."

"We thought so, but you just proved it's all one case."

"Didn't mean to."

"Well, not you personally. But the ring. The brands." George lifted his hand and tapped the air. "Bing. Bang." Then pointed at the car. "Boom."

Owen tried to follow. Gave up. "Huh?"

"I read the file. I was at the house when Becca and the out-of-town doc found the brands on the animals. Now this lady has one too."

Owen saw a trickle of light in the pitch-black darkness. "Whoever killed the pets killed Peggy?"

Owen vaguely remembered Reitman saying the pets were practice for humans. But that didn't explain ...

"Why Becca? Nothing connects her case to either of the others."

"The ring does." At Owen's blank expression, George frowned. "Becca's attacker dropped a ring just like the one that branded Peggy."

This was the first Owen had heard of it. But things had been a little busy.

"There were brands on the animals too, but Reitman couldn't see what they were."

"Doubtful there's a crazy or two running around killing, burning, and branding with different brands," George said. "But you never can tell."

Chief Deb's cruiser skidded to a stop about six inches from the rear b.u.mper of Owen's rental. At least Reggie had stopped barking at the flaming car, even though the car was still flaming.

She crossed the road. "What happened here?"

George pointed at Owen and walked away. Someone had to help Billy with traffic control. Where there had been no cars on the highway before, there were dozens now. The tower of smoke seemed to have drawn them like flies.

Owen repeated what he'd told George, including George's conclusions about the connections in the crime spree. Deb didn't look any happier about it than Owen was.

"Where is it?" he asked.

"Huh?" Deb stared at the car, chewing the inside of her lip.

"The ring."

"Locked in the evidence room waiting for the FBI to come and get it."

"Why would the FBI want it?"

"Your guess is as good as mine. Ross called VICAP-Violent Criminal Apprehension Program. I thought it was too soon with one attempted murder, but..." She shrugged. "He got antsy. He mentioned the ring and the FBI said they'd send an agent."

"Sounds like it wasn't too soon," Owen said. For the FBI to dispatch someone, they'd seen this or something similar before. "When's the agent supposed to arrive?"

"Anytime. Conveniently, they had one nearby."

"Convenient isn't the word I'd use."

"Coincidence?"

"How about conspiracy?"

"Conspiracy suggests more than one person."

"Exactly."

It was Deb's turn to appear confused.

"If Becca's attacker dropped a ring, which you have locked up, that makes the ring that branded Peggy another ring entirely."

"Doesn't mean another person attacked Peggy," Deb pointed out. "Might be one person with a boxful of rings."

"You believe that?"

"I'd like to," she said. "Otherwise we've got at least two people running around killing folks and then branding them."

"Considering the FBI is in the neighborhood, and they're interested in the ring," Owen said, "I think there's more than two."

"Is that why I can hear you?" I asked. "Because you're a witch?"

You hear more voices than mine.

"What does that mean?"

What do you think it means?

I used to think it meant I was nuts. I'd settled on it meaning I had an overactive imagination. But I didn't think either of those choices was what Pru was getting at.

"Are you saying I'm a witch? Because I'm not."

How can you be so certain?

I didn't know much-anything-about witches, but Jeremy did. And he'd said- "Witchcraft is a birthright."

True magic, the kind you have, is pa.s.sed through the blood. Blood magic is the most powerful kind.

"No one in my family is a witch."

"That's because your family isn't your family."

The voice was real. Not in my head. Not Pru's.

I leaped to my feet, spun, blinked, then blinked again at the woman standing in the entryway to the exam room.

Jeremy had been right. Except for the color of her hair and eyes, she did look exactly like me.

"Hi, Pru." She nodded to the empty corner. "Henry."

"Y-y-you see him?"

"Always have."

"You hear her?"

She shook her head. "That's your gift, not mine."

"Who are you?"

"Raye La.r.s.en. Kindergarten teacher from New Bergin and-" She glanced at the corner, shrugged, turned back. "Your sister."

"My sister's name is Melanie."

"She's not really your sister." Raye waved between the two of us. "You can see that now, right?"

"Everyone has a twin," I said desperately.

I felt like the earth had s.h.i.+fted beneath my feet. I was dizzy and hot, yet I s.h.i.+vered. Everything was changing. My fingers clenched and unclenched. I wanted to hold on to something but I was afraid that no matter what I grasped it would crumble to dust just like my world.

"We aren't twins."

At last she spoke sense.

"We're triplets. Just haven't located sis number three yet."

"How-how-"

"I was found on the side of Interstate Ninety-four, halfway between Madison and Eau Claire. Naked, without even a blanket. At least it was July, otherwise I'd have been dead."

I'd been born in July. Didn't mean anything.

"I saw ghosts. Still do. From the moment I could talk, I spoke to them. Freaked my parents out." I must have made a movement because she lifted an eyebrow. "You too?"

"No." I hadn't seen ghosts. I'd heard animals. But it had freaked my parents out.

"How-" I began again.

"How'd I find you? Magic."

"I was going to ask how you got in here." I'd locked the door.

"Same thing." She wiggled her fingers, and the surgical instruments I'd cleaned and set out to dry lifted into the air and hung there, then settled back where they'd been.

I sat down. I had to.

"You're crazy." Or I was.

"I thought the same." Raye tilted her head as if listening. "Okay." She crossed to the wolf.

"You probably shouldn't-"

"You have magic too, Becca, and I can prove it to you." She knelt next to Pru and beckoned. "Touch her wound."

"It's an open wound. Nothing and no one should touch it. Including her."

"Afraid I'm right?"

"About what?"

"Your touch can heal."

I had a sudden flash of what I'd thought I'd seen during the surgery-Pru's wound seeming to mend faster than it possibly could have.

But that hadn't been real. Had it?

"Why do you think your patients get better faster than any others?" Raye asked. "That you've never lost one yet?"

My gaze narrowed. "How long have you been in town?"

"Long enough to hear a reputation that's nothing short of mythic."

"I'm good at what I do."

"You're that good for a reason."

"I am not magic."