“She wasn’t dead, though,” I protested. “She was hurt very badly, but she wasn’t dead.”
“Kinsley, she was,” Thorn said. “She was as dead as a doornail and had been since sometime last night.”
I could feel the color drain from my face. “Then what was that?” I asked more as a rhetorical question. “She came to life. She was going to go after Laney, but I had her locked securely in the car.”
“That’s more your department than mine,” Thorn said, but his voice was soft. He took my hand and squeezed. “And the grimoire?”
“Stole it from Samara’s house the day you found me and Dad there,” I said and held my breath in anticipation of his inevitable displeasure.
“You stole it from a potential crime scene,” he said, but his tone was still gentle, and his hand still holding mine.
“I did,” I said.
“Do you want to start with pepperoni or Hawaiian?” he asked before opening the pizza boxes.
“Wait? You’re not going to get mad?” I asked. “You don’t have anything to say?”
“What would I say?” he asked. “My department isn’t going to treat that grimoire as actual evidence. No one would take it seriously enough because they won’t understand its meaning or significance. We’ve got little chance of solving this thing, so what can I do? I’m trying to stay out of your way and keep my deputies clear too.”
“You’re not going to get mad at me for taking Laney?” I asked.
“Should I?” Thorn returned.
“I’m safer when she’s with me,” I said.
“I gathered that,” Thorn said.
“But you’re not mad because you think I’m putting her in danger?” I asked.
“I think that’s more your feeling than mine,” he said. “If you’re safer with her, then she’s safer with you. Plus, whoever killed Samara isn’t just in one particular location. Heck, they’ve been to Lilith’s and I think they’ve been here. I may only be a small-town cop, but I know enough to know that you take a risk every time you step out your front door. However, the criminals are responsible for their crimes, not you. I’m not going to wrap you in bubble wrap and lock you away here. So, do you want to start with pepperoni or Hawaiian?”
“Pepperoni,” I said.
“I want ham,” Meri pipped in.
“You don’t eat pizza, cat,” Thorn retorted.
“Whatever,” was Meri’s reply.
He got some ham.
Chapter Eleven
It was a lovely night, so Thorn took Laney out for a stroller ride. I would have gone with them, but fatigue was pulling at me like quicksand.
I’d spent too much energy deep cleaning the kitchen, and I desperately needed rest. At least I felt like I could finally get some. A few days before, I was so tired but also constantly wired.
Actual danger seemed to be the thing that did it for me. Instead of all of the imaginary things that could go wrong, I had something to focus on. It did wonders for my mental health.
Since I wasn’t going along, Thorn took the jogging stroller. He didn’t get to run every morning anymore because he’d get up with Laney and let me sleep a few extra minutes.
I appreciated it, but I could tell he was itching to run. “See, it’s a good thing you’re going without me. If you ever catch me running, you’d better look behind me for a bear,” I said on his way out the door.
As much as I wanted a hot shower and to collapse into bed, I needed to put the leftovers away first. I combined the slices into one box, and put it in the fridge. The other box went into the garbage bin, and I was almost ready to go upstairs.
But that envelope of coupons was still on the coffee table. The pizza place had done coupons before, but it had been a colorful, glossy advertisement they taped to the box.
Anxiety prickled the back of my brain. Why would they put coupons in a manila envelope?
I grabbed the envelope off the coffee table and opened it. Inside was a sheet of white paper and not one coupon.
It was a letter.
Dear Meddling Witch,
I’d say that I hope this letter finds you well, but that would be a lie. What I do hope is that you understand what this means.
I can get to you.
I folded up the paper, put it back in the envelope, and waited by the front door for Thorn to return.
“What is it?” Meri asked when he noticed me still standing there after five minutes.
He’d been asleep on the hearth and hadn’t asked me what the letter was about. I wondered if it was because he was drowsy or because Thorn hadn’t taken him along on the jog.
I told him what the letter said, and he joined me by the door. “I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t go with them,” Meri groused. “What is he thinking going out jogging in the dark when there is a maniac on the loose?”
I shot him a look.
“You should call him,” Meri said. “Maybe he’ll run back faster.”
“I don’t want to panic him,” I said. “I’m sure it’s fine. The letter has to be to mess with me. Otherwise, why have it delivered with the pizza? Why not just leave it on the porch? Or knock on the door and hand it to me?”
“Dude, I don’t know,” Meri said. “Maybe you’ve just got the world’s dumbest stalker.”
Thorn was gone for around twenty minutes, during which time I took the letter out of the envelope and reread it several times. What bothered me the most was why they had sent it with the pizza? It didn’t make any sense to go through all of that trouble when they could have just left it on the porch or on the windshield of my car.
Why leave another witness?
A witness.
I needed to talk to that kid and find out who gave him
