Chapter 29
Whitley and I sit at the dinette booth in what used to be her grandma’s kitchen.
Now, technically, it’s just Whitley’s kitchen. But she won’t call it that, too disrespectful toward the woman who raised her when no one else would. Since her grandma passed in the spring, Whitley’s been riding out her remaining time in Penango here, refusing to move or even discuss it.
With witches and curses tied to Xander’s disappearance, I need another force of good on my team. And recruiting Whitley is like adding ten people instead of one. She can literally wield an axe.
If there’s anyone who knows how to push through a bad situation, it’s her.
The navy fabric covering the booth cushions is torn in multiple places, where fluffy, white stuffing spills out through the ripped seems like marshmallows oozing from an overstuffed s’more.
A deer’s head is mounted on the wall behind her, killed by her grandfather decades ago, its antlers thick with dust and cobwebs.
“How is Bennie?” I ask, picking at the skin around my thumbs.
Whitley pushes her hair back and calls out, “Bennie!” She makes a series of kissing noises.
A moment later, Bennie limps in from the hallway, his head swallowed by a giant, white plastic cone that makes him look like a space dog.
“Good . . . Well, actually . . . not so good,” she admits.
“He kept trying to eat the bandages on his legs. I had to get this cone from the store.” She knocks on it with her fist. “And I’ve been pulling him around in a wagon for our walks to keep the weight off his back legs.
I think he likes it though. He’s always been a little lazy. ”
“Aw, Bennie,” I say, frowning. “He’s bruised but not broken.”
“Nothing can break Bennie. Isn’t that right, Bennie?” She pats his head. “Say hello to Uncle Stetson.”
“Hi, Bennie.”
He whimpers.
“There it is.” Whitley grins. “Good boy, Bennie.”
I take a deep breath. “Sorry I took the past few days off from coyote hunting. There’s been so much going on. Did you catch the beast?”
“It’s cool.” Whitley gets up and grabs a soda from the fridge. “I haven’t been out to the woods either. I’m too busy playing veterinarian. But if you’re free soon, we should hunt again.” She cracks open the can and retakes her seat. “We’re letting that killer get too comfortable.”
I salute her. “But if I keep helping with hunting, will you help me with something too?”
“Yes.” She takes a long sip. “But only if you start sharing what’s been going on with you lately.”
I tug at my neckline. “That’s kind of why I’m here.”
She lifts a finger. “Wait, actually, I rescind my commitment.”
My body deflates. “What?”
She sighs. “If this has anything to do with Murray, I can’t help you. I’ve never been in a long-term relationship like that. I have no advice.”
I smile. “I wouldn’t put you through that. It’s not about him.”
“Oh, heck yeah. I’m recommitted.” She leans forward, placing her elbows on the table.
I tap my finger against my chin. “Wait, actually, I rescind that response.”
Her eyes roll.
“It does have a little to do with him. But it’s mostly about a missing person.”
She tilts her head. “Are you trying to make Murray go missing?” she whispers.
I shake my head. “I’m trying to make sure I don’t go missing.”
Her smirk disappears. “What the hell does that mean?”
I take another deep breath and tell her everything.
Halfway through my story, she lifts her soda and dumps it on my head.
“Are you for real, Stetson?” she asks.
“Ugh,” I grunt, licking soda from my lips.
She stalks off, grabbing Bennie’s food bowl and rinsing it in the sink. “I have more important things to do than listen to this baloney.”
“I’m serious, Whitley,” I say, shuffling toward the counter in search of a paper towel as the soda drips from my nose. Bennie tries to lick it up, but his cone stops him.
“Murray was just ignoring you that day to prove a point. You weren’t freakin’ invisible. That’s the serious answer here.”
“I’m not done the story,” I snap, and yank a towel from the roll. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me right away. That’s why I needed time to get evidence.”
“What evidence could possibly support you saying you’ve been hanging out with a teenage boy who’s frozen in time? Are we in Forks, Washington, now?”
“The presence of a witch.”
She snorts. “Now we’re in Salem?” I grab her arm before she can walk away.
“Actually, yeah. Kind of. Pennsylvania had its own witch trial before the one in Salem, Massachusetts. Louise Gregor was accused, and her family owned the land where the Ardor Tree sits. Xander and I think she might’ve cursed it. And then we got cursed when we messed with the tree.”
“Who is Xander?”
“The boy only I can see.”
“Oh, right, the ghost.” She taps her forehead. “I wasn’t listening before.”
“Okay.” I huff. “He’s not a ghost. Now you’re being rude. I’m trying to open up here.”
Whitley folds her arms. “You really think a witch cursed that tree?”
“I know how it sounds. But I didn’t tell you before because it sounds ridiculous—”
“It is ridiculous,” she hisses. “But . . . it makes you and Murray look less crazy.”
“And you already had your dad and a wild coyote to worry about. I didn’t want to add curses to the mix. I put some thought behind this . . . even if you don’t believe me.”
“I’m coming around.” She nods. “I know you’re too smart to make up something this dumb.”
“So, will you help me?”
She shrugs. “What can I do?”
“There must be a way to reverse what’s happened to Xander and me. We just don’t know why he disappeared at the pool, and I disappeared at the tree.”
She squints. “Who hacks at the Ardor Tree? That’s a mortal sin in this town. No wonder you’re half dead. What the hell were you thinking?”
I sigh. “I wasn’t. My emotions got the best of me.”
Whitley steps forward and wraps me in a hug. My body slumps against her, letting myself lean into the warmth radiating from her body. Sunlight filters through the window and we sway lightly like trees in a soft summer wind when the woods are at peace.
“I need more time to process this whole curse thing,” she says, her voice calmer. “But I’ll do what I can to help.”
“I knew you would,” I whisper. “I don’t want to deal with this alone anymore.”
“You never had to.” She pulls back, then rips another paper towel from the roll and dabs at my cheek. “I’m glad you finally get that,” she says.
I sigh as my shoulders sag.
“I’ve been here the whole dang time, Stetson. Stop keeping secrets.” She pushes my wet hair from my face. “We’re almost out of this town. Don’t break our pact now by putting a wedge between us.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
“So, what’s my first mission?”
“Can you see if the lifeguards you’re interviewing for your research know anything about Rainbow Valley Swim Club? Or when it used to be Pinehurst?”
She nods.
“Maybe it’s, like, an urban legend among the lifeguards.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised.” She grabs her phone. “What were those witches’ names again? I need to look this up.”
“You sure? The story is freaky.”
Whitley scoffs. “I ain’t scared of witches.” She snarls. “I hope this Xander boy is nice. Coyotes aren’t the only thing I can hunt.”