Okay, so she had perfect oval-shaped acrylics, but they were digging into my skin, about to draw blood.
Something had rattled her. Not just the break-in. More personal than that. She was a tough woman, and she wouldn’t be literally hanging on to me by her fingernails if there weren’t more to the story than that.
When she didn’t release me, I addressed the police over her shoulder. “We can take it from here.”
“We’ll be in touch,” Downy assured me. “Call if you think of anything or if you see your ex in town.”
“I’ll do that,” I told the polite lie. “Thank you for your service.”
The officers left, and Miss Dotha’s acrylic talons dug in deeper, but she didn’t budge for a full minute.
“Miss Dotha.” I couldn’t extract myself without hurting her. “What’s wrong?”
“He took them.” Her arms began trembling around me. “He took the girls.”
A lump formed in my throat. “Who?”
“Your ex.” She pulled back but didn’t let go. “He was here when I arrived at six. The weekly jar shipment came in last night, and I had inventory to do before we opened. The store was a mess, and when he saw me…” Tears filled her eyes. “He started ranting about a Colby Timms.”
Tiny feet dug into my scalp while Colby panicked at the sound of her name on Miss Dotha’s lips.
By this point, I was clutching her back. “What did he say about Colby?”
For him to bring Colby up to Miss Dotha, he must have sensed Miss Dotha’s witch heritage and figured that was why I hired her. Smart as he was, he would have quickly realized he was mistaken to do so, that she was blissfully ignorant of my real identity. Frankly, I was amazed—and grateful—he let her live.
“He demanded to know where she was hiding or where she might go.”
He must have thought she would run here after the house wards failed. “What did you tell him?”
“The truth.” She stared up at me. “I’ve never heard of her.” Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. “From what I know of your past, I assumed that was your birthname, that you changed it when you left him.” A fresh wash of tears poured down her wrinkled cheeks. “He was about to leave when the girls arrived. He did something, I don’t know what, but they collapsed in the doorway. Drugs, maybe? He had a stick with him. It was small, what my granny would call a switch. He couldn’t have done all this damage with just it. He must have had help.” She caught her breath. “He told me to call you and what to say.”
And that, right there, was the reason she was still breathing. To play messenger.
“He took the girls with him?”
“Yes.” She lowered her voice. “He picked them up, both of them, like they weighed nothing.” Her bright eyes burned with fear. “As he walked out, the storefront began to crackle. I ran to the office to call you, just like he told me to do, and the glass exploded. He must have set up a bomb before I got here.”
A bomb was as good of an excuse as any. “Did he tell you how to get in touch with him?”
“No.” A sob broke free of her chest. “He said he would call with instructions.”
Then he must be close. Watching. He would want to see I was following his rules.
“I need you to go home, pretend everything is normal, and help me keep the girls’ parents in the dark.” I regretted asking her to choose me over her own daughter, but Miss Dotha had overloaded her circuits. Bombs, superstrength, and possible drug use had tipped her over the edge. She was happy for simple directions. “I will call you the second I hear from the—” I bit down on the word killer, “—my ex.”
Head down, Asa stepped up to Miss Dotha. “Can I drive you home, ma’am?”
Of the two agents, he fit behind the wheel easier, and without the risk of busting another seat.
“No thank you.” Her hand rose to clutch her cross necklace. “The drive will give me time to calm down.”
There was no correlation between Miss Dotha taking comfort in her religion and Asa’s heritage, but he noticed the gesture and took a healthy step back. It made me wonder how often he garnered that reaction from those who were aware he was half daemon. With Clay as his partner, I doubt anyone mocked him twice.
As funny and sweet as Clay could be, he had a bad side no one in their right mind wanted to be on.
Clay took care of his people. It made me sound pathetic, but he had been my best friend. One of my only friends. I wasn’t raised to search out others to form bonds. Aside from alliances. And those were iffy.
Clay had changed my life. Forever. He was the only person who had ever seen any good in me. He was as much to blame for the switch flipping in my head as Colby. Maybe he had been the true catalyst, his goodness priming me for the moment I said “Enough” as I sprouted a conscience of my own.