Spells Trouble - Kristin Cast (mobile ebook reader .txt) 📗

little kitten,” Xena murmured as she smoothed back the girl’s hair.

“Is it really true?” Emily stared at the deputy, and then she looked from him to the twins. “How can it be true?” Before anyone answered, Emily’s legs wobbled and she collapsed.

Xena caught her first, and then Mercy and Hunter were there, too. They lifted her, steadied her—loved her.

“We’re here, Em. We’re here,” Mercy said as she hooked her arm around her best friend’s slim waist.

The deputy picked at his hat helplessly and repeated, “I really am sorry.”

Emily was sandwiched between Mercy and Hunter—while Xena stood behind her, stroking her back and murmuring softly.

“What can we do, Em? What do you need?” Mercy asked as she wiped at her face.

Emily turned her head slowly to meet Mercy’s gaze. She was no longer sobbing, but silent tears poured down her smooth, fawn cheeks to soak her shirt. “I need my daddy.” Then her face broke and she leaned heavily against Mercy as waves of shudders cascaded through her body.

“Emily—Miss Parrott,” the deputy stuttered. “Sh-should I call your mother? Should I go get her and bring her here?”

His words seemed to give Emily strength. She looked up at him. “Mom needs me.”

The deputy nodded urgently. “Yes, yes, she does.”

Emily drew a deep breath and stood up straight, like her spine had turned to steel. “I’ll go. Mom does need me.”

“Em, do you want us to—” Mercy began.

Emily turned to her and hugged her tightly. “I have to go to Mom.”

“Kittens, help our Emily to the car,” Xena told the girls.

Slowly, with Mercy on one side of her and Hunter on the other, the twins guided Emily to the deputy’s car and gently helped her into the passenger’s seat. The deputy slid behind the wheel and silently handed a box of tissues to Emily. When she made no move to take them, even though tears still washed her face, he put them in her lap. Emily looked up at the twins.

“I don’t know what to do.” Her voice was strange, listless and so soft Mercy had to lean forward to hear her.

Mercy touched her tear-ravaged cheek. “Just try to breathe.”

“Take it one step at a time,” Hunter added from beside Mercy. “Don’t think too far into the future.”

Emily nodded jerkily. “Okay. Okay.”

The deputy reached across Emily and closed the door. Mercy raised her hand. “We love you, Em. We’re here. Remember—we’re here for you!” She watched the streetlight illuminate Emily’s pale, stricken face as the deputy backed down the driveway. “She looks like a ghost.” Mercy whispered her thoughts as she and Hunter returned slowly to the porch.

“She’s in shock,” said Hunter. “We all are.”

“Oh, kittens! It’s just so awful.” Xena put her arms around the girls and held them close.

“How could he be dead? Murdered?” Pain throbbed in Mercy’s temple with her heartbeat.

“Something is wrong. Very wrong,” said Xena. “First Abigail. Then Mr. Thompson, and now Mr. Parrott.”

Hunter was the first to pull from Xena’s embrace. “We need to go to the other trees.”

“Do you really think this has something to do with the gates?” Mercy asked.

Hunter’s face looked colorless in the porch light as she stared over Mercy’s shoulder out into the night. “I’m beginning to believe it does.”

Fifteen

“Why are people still out there? I mean, it’s almost midnight!” Mercy felt like she wanted to hit something, but settled for stomping a foot against the floor of their mom’s Camry as she and Hunter stared at the cluster of palm trees that guarded the gate to the Egyptian Underworld. The trees were actually one tree, which had, over the generations, sprouted into five. They were squatty with big, handlike fans of leaves that were sharp-tipped—and the palm was awash in light from the baseball diamonds that surrounded it, which were currently filled with teams and too damn many cheering spectators.

“Crap!” Hunter mirrored her annoyance. “I totally forgot about the SBA.”

“SBA? What the hell is that?”

“Small Business Association—Mom was on the team for Siren’s Call Art Gallery. Every spring the SBA has a tournament. The winning team gets a weekend trip to the Four Seasons in Chicago with spa services and a special dinner included, remember?”

“That’s right. Abigail thought they’d win this year.” Mercy sighed. “Now what? Should we just go out there anyway?”

“No way! The whole town is there. If the trees really are dying and something terrifying is happening because of it the last thing we need is to call the town’s attention to the trees—any of the trees—and to us. Let’s just go on to the Japanese gate. No one will be out there.” Hunter shifted the car into reverse so she could back out of the lot.

“Hang on. We may not need to go all the way to the tree. Look.” Mercy pointed at a group of women, all wearing pink uniforms with KINGPIN LANES blazed across their ample bosoms. They’d just passed the big clump of out-of-place-looking doum palm trees.

“They’re wearing black armbands.” Hunter’s voice was soft.

Mercy’s gaze took in the other teams who were all wearing black armbands. She felt tears clog her throat, but she rasped out, “Every team is.”

“They’re honoring Mom.” Blindly, Hunter’s right hand reached out, searching, and Mercy grabbed it.

“Abigail would like that,” Mercy said. “But that’s not what I wanted you to look at. Check out what the Kingpin Lanes team is doing.”

“They’re sneezing,” said Hunter.

“And covering their mouths like something stinks,” Mercy agreed.

“Oh, no—sulfur. It’s here, too.”

Mercy nodded. “And check out the palm leaves. The ones on the top are still green like always. But look at the lower ones.”

Hunter squinted and held her hand above her eyes to shield them from the bright field lights. “They’re brown!”

“The palms are sick, too.” Mercy didn’t think her stomach would ever feel normal again. “Let’s go on to the cherry tree.”

“Okay, yeah, going.” Hunter backed out and headed across town.

It was late enough that there was almost no traffic, but Mercy breathed a relieved sigh when Hunter turned off Main Street