Venatores Mali.
I glanced at Bobby. He lifted a brow. He’d seen it. He’d have to be blind not to.
While I had left my computer out, I hadn’t left it open. Though considering that I’d shared my body, why wouldn’t he think I’d be happy to share my search engine?
I waited for the questions, the accusations. Instead, he sipped more coffee, which looked like a good idea. At the least I’d have something to do with my hands. At best maybe my head would clear enough to figure out how to explain myself.
I drank half of a cup before I faced him and tried another smile. He wasn’t buying this one any easier than he’d bought the last.
We continued to drink coffee as the silence stretched. I’d watched enough Law and Order to know what he was doing. Silence begged to be filled. If he waited long enough maybe I’d confess.
Not a chance. He wouldn’t believe me anyway.
My landline rang, so shrill I gasped. No one ever called me on it anymore. I wasn’t even sure why I kept it.
“Raye?” My father’s voice sounded rushed and breathless. “Thank God you didn’t come home.”
I wasn’t sure what to say to that. Gee, thanks?
“I should have called.” Would have if Bobby hadn’t arrived, and then— “Why didn’t you call me?”
“Your phone’s dead.”
“Oh.” I guess calling my father wasn’t the only thing I’d forgotten to do last night. “You could have called this phone if you needed me.”
“I would have. Then Chief Johnson told me.”
I stilled. “Told you what?”
“That Detective Doucet was keeping an eye on you.”
“An eye on me?” I echoed as my gaze lifted to Bobby’s. Was that what they called it now? “Why?”
“He didn’t tell you?”
My gaze narrowed. Bobby’s eyebrows lifted as he sipped more coffee. “Tell me what?”
“A woman broke in here last night. Stabbed your mattress and pillow.”
“What would anyone have against my mattress and pillow?”
“I think she meant to stab you, Raye.”
I’d figured that out for myself. Hence the attempt at tension-diffusing humor.
“She didn’t hurt you, did she?” I asked.
“She was already running out the door when I saw her.”
“Lock up from now on.”
“As I told the detective when he suggested it, I don’t have a key.”
“You don’t need a key to lock the place from the inside.”
He gave a short sharp laugh. “It’s been so long since I locked anything, I forgot.”
“Don’t forget any more.” I rubbed my forehead.
“I hope they catch this woman quickly, then everything can go back to the way that it was.”
I had my doubts that everything was ever going back to the way that it was, but I kept them to myself. Who knew? Miracles happened. Though usually not to me and mine.
“Why would anyone want to hurt you?” my father asked.
“I don’t know,” I lied. “Why does anyone want to hurt anyone?”
“The world is full of crazy people,” he said. “I never thought any of them would come here.”
The curse of a small town—no one ever did. Which made them woefully unprepared when crazy arrived.
I offered the most comfort I had at the moment. “I’ll charge my cell. We’ll keep in touch.”
“You’ll be back at school tomorrow. It’s safe there.”
“It is.” Another lie, but why stop now?
Maybe I shouldn’t go to school. I hadn’t wanted danger spilling onto my father, and it had anyway. I certainly didn’t need to bring more of the same to my kids and the school.
I said good-bye and glanced at Bobby. “When were you going to tell me about the break-in?”
“Right after you told me why you were researching Venatores Mali.”
He had me there. What should I say?
“Mrs. Noita was a witch.”
Huh, hadn’t planned to lead with that.
“She was not.”
“You didn’t even know her.” Neither had I but that was beside the point. “Jenn lived next door as a kid. She and her brothers called Mrs. Noita a witch. To be fair, that was because they weren’t allowed to call her a bitch.”
Bobby’s lips twitched. “I still don’t see how you knew about the Venatores Mali.”
“What do you mean by know?”
“It’s a stretch to jump from mean old lady to secret witch-hunting society unless you knew.”
I spread my hands, refusing to be drawn into admitting I’d known anything.
“Tell me how you made that jump.”
I didn’t like his tone, but I figured I could answer him here or in front of the chief.
“When we heard the fire was at Mrs. Noita’s, Jenn said that they called her a witch. She even got a potion from the woman once.”
“Seriously?”
I shrugged. “The whole thing made me curious. I looked up witch, which led to witch hunters and”—I waved my hand at the computer—“that’s what I got.”
“Did you find anything on that ring?”
“The leader of the hunters branded those he burned with his ring. But I couldn’t find any pictures or descriptions of it.”