8 Gone is the Witch Read online

  GONE IS THE WITCH

  Dana E. Donovan

  This book is based entirely on fiction and its story line derived solely from the imagination of its author. No characters, places or incidents in this book are real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places, events or locales is entirely coincidental. No part of this publication may be copied, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy or otherwise without the express written permission of the author or author’s agent.

  GONE IS THE WITCH © DANA E. DONOVAN 2013

  COVER ART © VICKIE DONOVAN 2013

  Special thanks to June Nicholson for her awesome

  contributions in helping me get this book to print

  Books in this series include:

  The Witch’s Ladder

  Eye of the Witch

  The Witch’s Key

  Bones of a Witch

  Witch House

  Kiss the Witch

  Call of the Witch

  Gone is the Witch

  Other books by Dana E. Donovan:

  Abandoned

  Death and Other Little Inconveniences

  Resurrection

  Skinny

  Book 8 in the Detective Marcella Witch’s series finds Tony spearheading a rescue mission to save the kidnapped Leona Diaz. The problem is, to do it, he’ll have to travel to an alternate universe where the laws of physics take a back seat to the unpredictability of a quasi-dimensional reality.

  Chapter One

  Few things in life surprise me anymore; what with being a witch and all, that and the fact I’ve lived a hundred and seventy five years, give or take.

  I will say that falling in love with Tony Marcella surprised me. I had never done that before… fall in love. I’ve always felt that love had the capacity to complicate matters unnecessarily. That’s certainly been my experience since meeting Tony. Before him, I delighted in doing whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. I answered to no one, and that’s how I liked it.

  After meeting Tony, I still did whatever, whenever and answered to no one. I just did those things with him in mind. I learned to take into consideration whether or not it would piss him off, or hurt his feelings. Too often the answer was usually yes, which just made it a shame, is all.

  Reanimating Ursula from a box of bones surprised the hell out of me, too. I knew I could do it; thought so anyway. I heard of other witches doing it, mostly with unpleasant consequences. Revivifying humans is the trickiest thing a witch can do.

  In Ursula’s case, it worked out fine, though I had to give so much of myself to her in the process, I fear I may have sacrificed the very essence of my soul to make it happen. Who knows? I suspect I’ll find out when the final chapter of my life’s story has been written.

  For of all those little surprises that rocked my world, I suppose none knocked me for a bigger loop than when I heard the news of Dr. Lowell’s return from the ES, or the Eighth Sphere.

  It had been some years, yet the image of Dr. Lowell’s body slicing through the air remains vivid in my mind. I remember watching in awe as the cyclone sucked him up into oblivion, along with his accomplice niece and two other victims of the Surgeon Stalker case.

  By Tony’s own admission, the case was the most difficult and bizarre he had ever worked, and certainly one for my book, as well. The despicable atrocities that Dr. Lowell committed, atrocities born of pure evil, earned him his rightful place in the bowels of the Eighth Sphere.

  Worse than hell, some say, the ES is the great equalizer where evil meets evil. Before Dr. Lowell, few souls, if any, had ever found a way out of that place, let alone a way back in.

  Regarding that, what I’m about to tell you is true. Incredible and unimaginable, but entirely true.

  Events began unfolding shortly after I decided to drop in to check on Ursula. It had been a month since her miscarriage and I hoped to get her out of the house for a change of scenery.

  The boys were still working, and since neither she nor I cook, I suggested we take a ride down to the Justice Center to see if they’d buy us an early dinner.

  After flirting with the desk sergeant for a passkey through security, we headed up to the second floor. While in the elevator, I asked Ursula how she was doing.

  “I fare well,” she said, her voice unusually faint. Though never one for over-exuberance, I can tell you Ursula usually shows more excitement in her tone whenever we’re off to see Dominic and the boys.

  “Are you sure?” I asked. “You aren’t still having pains, are you?”

  She shook her head. “I have had no pain of late, but for that in my heart.”

  “Oh Urs,” I took her hand. “You’ll try again. You have to give it some time.”

  She looked up at me with dark, wet eyes. “Aye, `tis not for want of trying. `Tis he who turns a timid cheek when time doth pose a tender bit.”

  “Dominic? He doesn’t want to have sex yet?”

  “Nay.”

  “Have you tried to… you know,” I ran my hand over the front of my jeans, “get him interested?”

  “Aye, with every trick thou hath taught me.”

  “Listen. I’m sure Dominic’s still apprehensive. Losing the baby was bad enough, but he nearly lost you, as well. Give him some time. He’ll come around.”

  She was about to comment on that when the elevator doors opened. We stepped out onto the detectives’ floor and nearly plowed into Dominic. He seemed surprised, if not worried, to see us. He took Ursula’s hands and ushered her aside.

  “Ursula, what are you doing here? Is everything all right?”

  “Relax,” I said. “Your little china doll is fine. We came here to see if you guys would take us to dinner.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Sure, unless you’re up to some late night dancing afterwards. What do you say, Casanova?”

  “Dancing?” He touched Ursula’s belly and rubbed it gently. “I don’t think dancing’s such a good idea. We could do dinner though. I suppose that’s okay.”

  “You suppose? Gee, how nice you think she can go out and eat in public.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Ursula touched my arm. “Please. Mayhaps it is too soon for dance. `Tis better we dine by light of candle than dance to thine own cheer.”

  “You’re placating him, Ursula.”

  Dominic said, “What the hell does that mean?”

  “Placating, it means appeasing, mollifying––”

  “I know what it means. What do you mean by it?”

  “I mean you ain’t gonna break her. It wouldn’t hurt any if you loosened up some and––”

  “Greetings, Master Tony!” Ursula waved to Tony and quickly changed the subject. “Thou art handsome today.”

  “Thank you,” he said, and he did look great. “You’re beautiful, as always.” He kissed her cheek, then turned to me. “Lilith, what’s going on? Do we have a problem here?”

  Dominic cleared his throat. “Tony, will you please tell your wife that our business is our business? We don’t need her meddling in every aspect––”

  “Meddling? You think I’m meddling?”

  “Easy, now.” Tony took my arm and coaxed me back a step. “Let’s take a deep breath. Shall we?”

  I don’t usually do what Tony tells me to do, mostly because I don’t want to set precedents. In this case, however, I followed his example and took a deep breath to reflect on what a chauvinistic pig Spinelli was being.

  If Ursula hadn’t stepped right out of the seventeenth century, she might have been in a position to see that for herself. It used to be easier defending her when she lived with Tony and me. Unfortunately, since marrying Dominic, she’s allowed my influence
in such matters to diminish considerably.

  “That’s better,” said Tony, acting as though he had just brokered détente in the Middle East. “Why are you girls here? Is everything okay?”

  “Everything’s fine,” I told him. “We came here to see if you guys would take us to dinner. But I have to tell you, in this hostile atmosphere, I’m not so sure we want to go now.”

  “Tony!”

  Carlos Rodriquez came trotting down the hall, looking distressed. Tony saw it, too. He put his hand to my mouth to shush me without fear whatsoever that I might snap his fingers off and stuff them where the sun don’t shine.

  As Carlos neared, his state of agitation heightened. “Tony! There you are.”

  Tony approached him to shorten the distance. “What is it?”

  “The sergeant downstairs….” He paused to catch his breath. “He’s sending a guy up to see us…. They want us to talk to him.”

  “Who is it?”

  “A taxi driver.”

  “What’s his beef?”

  “No beef. He wants to report something suspicious.”

  “Do you know what it’s about?”

  “He said he––”

  “Detectives!”

  A uniformed officer approached from the other end of the hall, escorting an older man dressed in layered flannel and blue denim. A real cowboy type, rattlesnake boots with pant legs tucked down inside them. His face looked rugged and worn like tanned leather, his gray beard and mustache wiry but trimmed.

  “Detective Marcella?”

  Dominic stepped towards the officer to head him off. “I’m Detective Spinelli. Can I help you?”

  “Really? You’re a detective?”

  “Why does everyone say that?”

  “This is Joe Dallas,” the officer said, ignoring Spinelli and addressing Tony.

  “Just call me Dallas,” the man said. “It’s not my real name, just my old rodeo name.”

  Tony shook the man’s hand. “Dallas, Detective Marcella. Pleased to meet you.”

  The officer presented his charge. “He’s all yours, gentleman.”

  Tony thanked the officer. He turned to Dallas. “Why don’t you tell us what’s on your mind?”

  I interrupted. “Tony, maybe Ursula and I should leave. Looks like you guys are busy.”

  “I wouldn’t,” said Carlos.

  “Why?”

  He grinned curiously. “I think you’re going to want to hear this. It concerns Dr. Lowell.”

  “What?” I was sure he was kidding.

  “That’s what I started to tell you all.” He pointed to the cowboy. “It’s what you told the sergeant at the desk, isn’t it? You said you heard the man say his name, Lowell?”

  “Yup. That’s the name I heard.”

  Tony took the man by the arm, “Please, sir. Would you come with us?” He looked at me. “Lilith, did you want to stay?”

  “Shaa!” I nudged Carlos aside with the back of my hand. “Just try and get rid of me.”

  We followed Tony and Dallas into the detective’s room, back into the corner by the window where two of the desks sat facing each other, forming a single workstation for Tony and Carlos. Tony directed Dallas to take a seat in one of two chairs beside the desks. Ursula, under Dominic’s direction, sat in the other.

  Tony began, “Mister Dallas––”

  “Uh-uh. It’s just Dallas.”

  “Sorry. Dallas. Please start at the beginning and tell us what this is all about.”

  The old cowboy checked his watch. “Well, long `bout two hours `go, I got a call from dispatch to pick up a fare at an address outside of town. Some college building I thought. I drove there and found this man waiting out on the front steps. He looked bad, but he weren’t hurt or nothin`.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “I mean he looked like he fell off the bull. His hair all messed up. His clothes dirty and torn. I thought he might-a been mugged, but he said he weren’t. Said he had a rough night and then laughed.”

  Tony glanced up at Carlos and gave him a look as though he were only half believing it. Carlos looked at me. I think he and I were both totally buying it. The skittish vibes down deep in my gut told me I had to.

  “What happened next?” Tony asked.

  Dallas offered up a shrug. “I let him into my cab. I mean I didn’t know if he had any money, but I figured as I was all the way out there, wasn’t like I was gonna pick up another fare to take back to town.”

  “Where did you take him?”

  “Took`im to an apartment building just this side of the tracks.”

  “And you left him?”

  “I let him out.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean he told me to wait there for him. I watched him go upstairs to one of them apartments. He came back a minute later with a woman and the two of `em got into my cab.”

  “Can you describe her?”

  “Yeah. She seemed drunk, stoned maybe, like she done ate too many peyote buttons.”

  “Jean Bradford,” Carlos whispered.

  Tony heard him, too. He said to Dallas, “Was this an older woman?”

  Cowboy Joe shook his head. “Uh-uh, younger. Just a girl really. Pretty thing, too. Dressed in a flimsy little nightgown.”

  “You say you think she was stoned?”

  “Thought so, but then I wasn’t so sure.”

  “Explain.”

  “It’s like the girl didn’t wanna go with him so willingly. She protested, tried to put up a struggle, but didn’t have the fight in her to do nothin`.”

  “Are you serious?” I said. I pointed to Cowboy Joe and shook my finger. “The girl didn’t want to go with him and you didn’t say anything?”

  Dallas looked up at me as though I had just accused him of farting out the Star Spangled Banner. “`Course I said somethin’. I asked him what he was doing with the girl.”

  “And?”

  “He told me she was his daughter, that she was partying with a bunch of college boys and that he was taking her home.”

  “And you bought that?”

  “I did. For a bit.”

  “But?”

  “But then he had me drive them both back to that old college building. I knew then something was wrong.”

  “How’s that?” Tony asked.

  “Well, I realized it weren’t no college building. You see, on the ride up the first time I didn’t see it.”

  “See what?”

  “The sign out front, a construction sign… or a destruction sign, I s`pose.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Williams and Sons Demolition: the name on the sign. Seems they done scheduled the building for demolition. It ain’t no college and there ain’t no dormitories there. That’s when I became real suspicious.”

  “Williams and Sons,” said Dominic. “I know those guys. They have a contract to raze the old research center where Dr. Lowell held his paranormal studies.”

  “They’re tearing it down?” I asked. “When?”

  “Next week. Crews have been out there all month mapping out detonation points.”

  “Tony.” I reached for his forearm. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  He palmed the back of my hand. “Let’s not jump to conclusions. I’m sure there’s an explanation.” He turned to Dallas. “Sir, you said the man’s name was Dr. Lowell. How do you know that? Did he tell you?”

  Cowboy Joe shook his head. “Wasn’t him what said it. Was her. When they got out`a my cab, seemed the girl was feeling a bit feistier. She struggled some, but he was too strong for her. She kept saying, ‘Dr. Lowell, please let me go. Don’t take me.’ That’s when I began to s`pect he weren’t her father. Don’t know no girl what calls her daddy, Doctor.”

  I couldn’t stand it any longer. I walked over to the little snake and pulled him up by his lapels. “You sorry ass piece of cow shit! A man drags a helpless woman out of your cab and you do nothing to stop him?”

&n
bsp; “Lilith!” Tony came up behind me, laced his fingers around my waist and pulled me back. “Let him go.”

  I dropped the skinny bag of dirt into his seat. He put his hands up to prevent another assault, but I was done with him. I wiped my hands on my jeans and eased back into Tony’s arms. He had a decent hold of me, but not so much that I couldn’t break away if I wanted to.

  I looked over at Ursula. She seemed frightened, and the look on Carlos and Dominic’s faces told me they both thought I might unleash something horribly witchy on the little twerp’s ass.

  Tony whispered in my ear. “Are you going to calm down now?” I could feel his grip around my waist loosening. I pried his interlocking fingers off my stomach and slipped off to one side.

  “I’m calm, but that bearded lizard better have a good reason why he didn’t speak up to help the girl.”

  “I did speak up,” Dallas said, sounding righteous in his own defense. “I got out`a my cab and confronted the man, but he cut me down.”

  “What do you mean he cut you down?”

  Dallas stood and motioned a slicing wave with his hand as if casting water off his fingertips. “He did this as I approached him. Next thing I knew, my knees buckled, my back folded and I went down on the pavement. When I came to, they was gone.”

  “Dominic.” Tony pointed across the room to a metal filing cabinet in the corner. “Do we still have a photo of Dr. Lowell up here?”

  “I’m sure we do.” He hurried to the cabinet and returned with a manila envelope. “Here you go.” He handed it to Tony.

  Tony removed a photo, glanced at it briefly and then showed it to Dallas. “Is this the man you say got into your cab with the young woman this afternoon?”

  Dallas observed the photo and nodded. “Yup, that’s him all right. Looks real nice in that there picture, but that’s him.”

  Dominic handed Tony another photo. Tony handed it to Dallas. “Is this the girl?”

  I could see as it changed hands that it was a picture of Leona Diaz. Dallas ran his blackened fingertips over the glossy surface. “Yup. That’s her.” He handed the photo back. “Sure is a pretty thing, ain’t she?”