26 #2
“He loved dogs. I believe he ended up with one of his own.”
Mandy’s eyes widened. “Your family’s English Labs. You gave one to William?”
“Why would I do that?”
“I don’t know. Why would you?”
“By the time the newest Dixons came along, my family and the dogs were long gone. I’ve been the last McLean for over forty years.”
Finally, a trace of emotion. But Mandy was damned if she could figure it out. A hint of wistfulness, an undertone of rage?
“Your father also liked Lovey One,” Isla stated.
Now Mandy was the one caught off guard. “My father knew your dog? I thought you kept to yourself.”
“I was younger then.” The woman swept her long, dark hair over one shoulder. “Your father was younger, too.”
Mandy didn’t appreciate the innuendo. Her shoulders stiffened, her temper sparking. She had to force herself to rein it in. This strange witchy woman was playing with her. Mandy would be damned before giving her the satisfaction.
“My father considered community relations to be the most important part of his job. He prided himself on knowing all the locals and checking in regularly.”
A small, mysterious smile. “And you?”
“I do my best. But the village is constantly growing, and I don’t know everyone yet. Hence our first meeting.”
“It’s not our first meeting.”
Another tilt of the world’s axis. Damn, this cabin was hot. And suffocating. Mandy had to fight not to tug at the collar of her uniform.
“As a child, you suffered from eczema. Your father brought you by on occasion to pick up a special treatment soap. Generally, you preferred to play outside.”
Mandy shook her head; all news to her.
“Once you were here when William visited.”
“William Dixon?”
“Of course.” The woman eyed Mandy intently.
“I never met—”
“You did.”
“I did not!”
“You did. Outside this cabin. You and William played hide-and-seek. While your father and I…conducted business.”
“Now I know you’re lying. Like a six-year-old boy hiked all the way up here by himself.”
“William loved his siblings, but being the youngest of four wasn’t always easy. Given a chance to sneak away, he’d take it.”
“Then why don’t I remember—”
“Something so insignificant? You were two young kids. You played until it was time to go. It was what it was. Until months later, when the entire family went missing, and then it became about what wasn’t.”
Mandy couldn’t help herself; she dredged through her memories trying to pull up anything to either prove or disprove these crazy allegations.
Mandy could picture William clearly in her mind’s eye.
But she had no impression of an active, freckle-faced boy.
Just the two-dimensional image, captured forever in his elementary school photo.
The more this woman talked, however, the more Mandy wondered.
She and William could easily have crossed paths at one of the Saturday farmers markets and run around the way kids did.
Isla was right; at the time it wouldn’t have seemed anything special, just another day in the life of a child.
“Your father was a good man,” Isla was saying. “Sometimes he’d come by end of shift and help chop firewood. Other times…he just needed to talk. Being responsible for an entire community is a heavy burden for any man. And especially for one who cared.”
Mandy’s temper flared again. “Leave my father alone. He gave enough to this town. He doesn’t deserve you tainting his reputation.”
“Is that what I’m doing, saying your father was kind and caring and responsible?”
“If you and my father were so close, why didn’t I ever hear him mention your name? Not once when I was growing up.”
“Because after that dark, stormy night, when an ancient oak was split in two and an entire family vanished, this town became a study in before and after. Many things changed after that terrible evening. Many people as well.”
“Why? That doesn’t make any…”
And just like that.
Mandy’s gaze dropped to Isla McLean’s stockinged feet. Absolutely correct for an average-sized female. Like her dad was a match for an average-sized male.
Don’t let her get in your head, she ordered herself.
But it was too late. Mandy was already thinking things she didn’t want to think.
Her father’s DNA all over the Dixon crime scene, as well as possibly his footprints.
This woman, one of the closest neighbors, who knew the Dixon children and her father, not to mention English Labs and the history of this village…
An hour ago, Mandy hadn’t even been aware her father had an acquaintance who called herself the Witch of the Woods. Now she had to wonder just how well her father had known this woman, and what might have happened to sever that relationship completely.
“I need you to come with me,” Mandy stated stiffly.
“No.”
“It’s not a request—”
“Do you have a warrant for my arrest?”
“No—”
“Then it is. Nor do you have grounds to procure such an order. Never underestimate a self-educated woman, Chief. Or a witch.”
“You’re not a witch.”
“Ding dong bell, the witch is in the well,” Isla sang. “Red witch, blue witch, black or white. One for love, one for fright. One will dance all night long. One will see you dead and gone.”
“I know the stupid nursery rhyme and local legend! Except the poor woman we found wasn’t a witch, either.
Most likely just some midwife who paid for other people’s mistakes.
Did you have something to do with that discovery?
You who roamed the property.” Mandy glanced down at Lovey III.
“And apparently know a thing or two about English Labs?”
“The witch belonged to all of us, and none of us. At least that’s what I was told. You should ask Raquel Collins. She has the journal now.”
“What journal?” Mandy threw up her hands.
“The one I found, then lost for Janet Dixon to find, then lost for Raquel Collins to find. I didn’t know when I passed it along what would happen next. If I had…” A long silence, where Isla’s dark gaze focused on things Mandy couldn’t see. Finally, a shrug. “Nothing stays secret forever.”
Mandy stared at the woman, sweat beading up and rolling down her back as she waited for anything about this conversation to make sense.
“Did you know about the hand-dug well?” she asked point-blank. “The dog, its discovery of the remains, was that your doing?”
“How do you find a witch in a well?”
“Stop with the riddles—”
“How do you find a witch in a well?”
“Do you know what happened to the Dixon family?” Mandy practically yelled.
Only to be met with infuriating calm: “You are your father’s daughter.”
Which once again made her want to scream.
“So help me God,” Mandy grated out, “if I find anything tangible that links you to that night thirty years ago, I’m coming back here with a warrant in hand. And this time, there’ll be no riddles. This town deserves the truth.” My father, she wanted to shout, deserved the truth.
Isla didn’t flinch.
Mandy headed for the door, embracing the cold as it slapped against her overheated cheeks and red-hot emotions. She could’ve handled that better. She could be doing just about everything better.
Fuck it, she needed some sleep.
Then, just as she reached her vehicle, that sensation again. A tickle between her shoulder blades. She whirled, hand on her Glock, but the swirling bursts of snow made it impossible to see.
Her gaze searching the woods. One pass, then a second. Finally, she turned back to her SUV.
Just in time to catch a faint disturbance. Probably nothing but the wind, she told herself. But just for a moment she could’ve sworn she heard the sound of a child laughing.