Wicked Business

“Are you okay?” I asked him.

“’Tis as if the foul farts have turned to these beastly hives. I rid myself of one plague only to acquire another.”

“If you still have them tomorrow, you might want to talk to Glo about it.”

Hatchet scratched his leg and his butt. “Might she find some spell to cure this?”

“Maybe,” I said. “In the meantime, you could try calamine lotion.”

“You have been most kind,” Hatchet said, “but I will still smite thee down if I must. I will slice off your ear, run my sword through your liver, boil you in a cauldron of oil if you attempt to slow me on my quest.”

“Wonderful,” I said. “I’ll add that to the list of things I can look forward to.”

“I think I doth got carried away with the oil,” Hatchet said. “It would be difficult to procure such an amount of oil.”

He scratched his crotch and under his arm, and he limped down the hill toward the road.

Diesel and I took one last futile look around, saw nothing that would indicate the presence of a clue, and followed Hatchet.

“I’m pretty sure there weren’t any other cars on the road when we parked,” I said to Diesel. “How did he get here? And how is he getting home?”

“Methinks we’ll find out,” Diesel said. “It appears he doth stand by my SUV.”

“Where’s your car?” I asked Hatchet.

“Stolen,” Hatchet said. “This day doth suck.”

Diesel took Hatchet’s sword so he wouldn’t be tempted to run it through my liver, and we loaded him into the back of the SUV.

“Where do you want us to drop you?” Diesel asked.

“Put me in a sack and throw me into the river,” Hatchet said.

“Not my thing,” Diesel told him. “Pick something else.”

“A pharmacy.”

Diesel found one on Massachusetts Avenue. He pulled to the curb, gave Hatchet his sword back, and watched him get out of the SUV.

“Do you want me to wait?” Diesel asked.

“Nay. I will find my own way.”

Diesel slipped back into traffic, continued down Massachusetts, and called Wulf.

“Yes,” Wulf said.

“Hey, cuz, just wanted you to know Hatchet is in the CVS in Cambridge. He’s getting ointment for a handprint burn on his neck. And he’s without transportation. Someone stole his car.”

There was a silent pause and a disconnect.

“Why are you helping Hatchet? Isn’t he the enemy?” I asked Diesel.

“Yes, but it annoys Wulf when I’m nice to Hatchet. And I need to protect Hatchet to some degree. Wulf would be more determined to capture you if he didn’t have Hatchet.”

“We’re missing something with Tichy. I don’t feel like we’re even close.”

“The history of Tichy persuades when innocence prevails,” Diesel said.

“Maybe we’re not innocent enough.”

“That’s a given for me.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Midway through the morning, the bell over the bakery’s front door jingled and Hatchet walked in. I was filling one of the large wire breadbaskets in the front of the shop, and Glo was helping a woman select several meat pies. We all gave a start when we saw Hatchet. His face and hands were dabbed with calamine lotion, his scraggly hair was greasy, and he was scratching like a dog with a flea infestation.

“You,” he said, pointing to the woman buying meat pies. “Step aside. I need to speak to the witch.”

The woman looked at Glo. “Are you a witch?”

“Not exactly,” Glo said. “I think I might have some latent wizard abilities, and there’s a good possibility my broom is enchanted, but I’m pretty sure I’m not a witch.”

Hatchet narrowed his eyes. “What part of step aside did thee not hear?” he said to the woman.

“I was here first,” the woman said.

Hatchet drew his sword. “Madam, I have hives in dark places, my balls are on fire, and I have little patience. Wouldst you die for your place in line?”

“Hey,” Glo said. “You can’t talk to our customers like that.”

“Do something, witch. Relieve this itch or I will smite thee down. I will cleave thee in two.”

The woman turned and ran out of the store.

Clara was in the doorway. “What’s going on out here?”

“Hatchet threw a hissy fit and chased Glo’s customer away,” I said.

Clara squinted at Hatchet. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Hives,” I said. “The farting stopped, but now he has hives.”

“Omigosh,” Glo said. “Do you suppose it could be the ground salamander tail?”

“Do you have any with you?” I asked.

“No,” Glo said. “I would have to go to the Exotica Shoppe to get some.”

Hatchet was clawing at his crotch. “Maybe if I take my clothes off,” he said.

“No!” Clara said. “You can’t take your clothes off in my bakery. It’s not done. There’s an ordinance.” She turned to Glo. “Get him out of here. Take him to Exotica before he ruins me. Take Lizzy with you.”

“I haven’t finished my cupcakes,” I said to Clara.

“I’ll finish the cupcakes. Go with Glo, and make sure he doesn’t come back here. Do whatever you have to do.” Clara looked me straight in the eye. “Do anything.”

Glo took Broom and her messenger bag, and we walked Hatchet out of the bakery.

“It’s just a couple blocks,” Glo said to Hatchet. “Try to look normal and not scare anyone on the way.”

“My cheeks are chafing, and I have hives in my nose, creeping to my brain,” Hatchet said.

“Nobody likes a whiner,” Glo told him.

“Sorry,” Hatchet said. “Wouldst thou like to beat me?”

Glo declined, but I swear I saw Broom twitch toward Hatchet and Glo take a more firm grip.

Nina waved to us from the back of the store when we entered. She was a puff of lavender cotton candy in a gauzy fluffy gown that Cinderella might have worn to a ball, complete with a froth of lavender tulle perched on her head.

“I just got a shipment of Bavarian elf eyelashes,” she said. “Very special. Excellent for constipation and removing spells having Irish pixie dust as their main ingredient.”

“I’m looking for ground salamander,” Glo said. “I did an undo spell yesterday, and it undid what it was supposed to but it might have produced hives. I thought it could have happened because I didn’t use the ground salamander.”

Nina shook her finger at Glo. “It’s very naughty to cast spells with incomplete ingredients.”

Glo pulled Ripple’s out of her bag. “I thought I’d just do the spell over with the salamander.”

“That probably will work, since it was an undo spell,” Nina said, turning to a cabinet filled top to bottom with glass jars labeled Dandelion Fluff, Pickled Pigeon Feet, Scented Toadstool, Green M &Ms, Petrified Danish Quail Eggs. “Here it is,” Nina said. “Ground salamander. I sell a lot of this. It’s useful in so many spells.” She measured a small amount out, sealed it in a snack-size plastic bag, and passed it over to Glo.

Glo had Ripple’s open on the counter. “Here goes,” she said.

Hatchet stood in front of her, trying hard not to scratch.