“My mom was never interested in witches before.”
Except those few times she’d thought she was one. But she’d also thought she was a bird and a dragon and a jet plane. Which meant her obsession was flying. Or at least it had been. Why had that changed? Because her “friend” had been whispering sweet nothings, or maybe bad somethings?
“If this person upsets my mom maybe they shouldn’t be together.”
Kindergarten basic—separate the troublemakers. Probably worked pretty well in mental health facilities too. And prisons. And life. Like the book said: Everything I Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten.
“Your mom gets even more upset when they’re separated.”
“Who is it?” Owen asked. His mom had hooked up with some real losers in the past. Why should now be any different?
“A young woman with problems.”
“That narrows it down.”
“I can’t tell you more than that. If your mother does, that’s her prerogative.”
“My mom’s a little ‘blah-blah, die, witch’ right now.”
Shocked silence descended. Owen couldn’t blame her.
“That doesn’t sound like your mother.”
From what Owen could recall, the words might be different but the sentiment was the same.
“She was interested in witches,” Peggy continued. “As it’s a peaceful religion, and we’re a peaceful people, I didn’t see the harm in teaching her.”
“Teaching her? You?”
“I follow the tenets of Wicca.”
Now the stunned silence came from Owen.
“You’re sure she said ‘die, witch’?” Peggy asked.
“That was the gist,” Owen said. “The real kicker was when she tried to kill one.”
This time the silence pulsed for three ticks of the clock.
“I’ll be right there.”
*
Owen’s voice lifted several times—anger? fear? both?—but I couldn’t hear what he was saying.
Mary seemed content with Reggie. Reggie was content with her. You’d think animals would sense crazy, and an animal like Reggie better than most. Maybe he did, but Mary’s kind of crazy wasn’t the kind that bothered him. She didn’t smell like explosives and … whatever else a terrorist smelled like.
“Hush,” Mary said, and stroked his head.
Hush.
Reggie pressed closer, either cuddling, or making sure she couldn’t get away without stepping over or around him. Who knew?
“You changed your hair.”
For a minute I thought Mary was still talking to the dog. Then I lifted my gaze and her eyes were on me. She seemed to recognize me, so I smiled, shook my head. “Not really.”
I either braided it or I didn’t. That was the extent of any changes in my hair.
“You colored it,” Mary insisted.
Ouch!
Mary’s fingers no longer stroked Reggie’s fur, but clenched it. She was getting agitated. I decided not to argue with her about the color of my hair.
“Huh,” Jeremy said.
Mary’s eyes flicked toward him, and her nostrils flared as if she’d smelled something bad. Reggie growled.
“George,” I said. “Maybe you should take Mary to the squad car.”
“Why?”
“Because she tried to kill Dr. Reitman once already. I don’t want to give her another chance.”
“She’s handcuffed.”
Mary bolted in Jeremy’s direction. If Reggie hadn’t been lying on her feet, she would have gotten him too. Jeremy scrambled back. Reggie started barking—at him, not her.
As George hauled Mary outside, she mumbled a lot of words, very few of which sounded like English. That was new.
“Nein!” I ordered Reggie. He cast me a surprised glance.
Sprechen Sie Deutsch?
I ignored that. I had to. I certainly couldn’t answer him. Especially in Deutsch.
“She must have seen the same woman I did.” At my blank expression, Jeremy waved at my hair. “Looks like you but different color.”
“Must have,” I echoed. How could I have forgotten about the woman who looked like me but not quite?
Apparently Mary had seen her too.
Chapter 15
Owen returned to the first floor to discover his mother in the back of the squad car banging her head against the window and screaming in tongues.
Just another day at the McAllisters’.
“What happened?”
Reitman glanced up from bagging the evidence. He must have received permission to take it. Fine with Owen. He wanted every last bit of it out of here.
“She lunged at me.”
“She’s handcuffed.”
“Legs still work.” He let his gaze lower to Owen’s. The comment “unlike yours” was left unsaid. Owen heard it anyway and his hands clenched. Reitman quickly went back to work.
George came in. “I’m taking your mom to the station.”
“Her caseworker is on the way to get her.”
“She can get her at the station.” George held up his hand. “There’s gonna be paperwork.”
“I’ll call her back,” Owen said, though the idea of climbing the stairs to make another call made his leg ache worse.
George frowned at Reitman. “I didn’t say you could take that.”
The doctor didn’t pause in what he was doing. “You said you’d call.”