“You fucking bitch,” she screamed, throwing herself forward against the spell so hard it rippled and pulsed. “You’ll not take him, I tell you. Not again.”
Her expression was filled with hate and the desperate need to retaliate, to hurt. While the spell was currently holding her in check, there was no way known I was going anywhere near her. Not until she calmed down.
A small boy with a mop of thick brown hair and eyes as dark as his mother’s leaned out of the window and said, slightly tremulously, “Mommy? Is everything okay?
She sucked in a breath that did little to ease the murderous glint in her eyes and nodded. “Yes, Jack, everything is fine. Just go back inside and wait for me, okay?”
“Here,” I said, sweeping the teddy from the ground as I walked across to the window. “Take this with you.”
A happy smile bloomed across his cute, chubby features as he reached for the threadbare teddy with a chocolate-smeared hand. “It’s Freddie, Mommy.”
“That’s good, darling,” she replied, voice still vibrating with barely contained fury. “Now go inside and wait, like I asked.”
As Jack obeyed, I turned to the woman. “What in hell did you hope to achieve by attacking me like that? We’re in a werewolf reservation, for God’s sake. Even if you had gotten past me, tracking is second nature to them.”
“Which is why I hired a fucking witch.” Her gaze raked me. “You’ll not take my son from me—”
“I have no intention of taking your son, so calm the fuck down. I’m just here to ask—”
“Then you’re not working for him?”
My eyebrows rose. “Him? Do you mean your husband?”
“He’s an ex,” she spat. “And he stole Jack from me.”
Understanding hit. “So this is a custody battle?”
“No. I won custody, but that bastard disappeared with him during a weekend visitation. After a year of relying on the goddamn law to find him, I took matters into my own hands and hired a witch.”
“The one who was inside with you?”
“Yes.” Her gaze raked me again. I had a feeling if she hadn’t been leashed, she’d be tackling me again. “You didn’t answer my question.”
It took me a second to remember what question she meant. “No, I’m not working for your husband.”
She blew out a breath. It was a frustrated, angry sound. “If he didn’t report Sabine snatching Jack to the rangers, then who did?”
“His neighbor.”
“Nosy bitch,” she muttered. “I guess Kyle was too damn busy fucking his blonde tart to find out why his son was screaming.”
I stared at her for a long second. “You don’t know? The witch didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me fucking what?”
I sucked in a breath and released it slowly. “Your husband is dead.”
A weird mix of hope, joy, and horror ran across her expression. “Really? The bastard’s gone, and I never have to fear him snatching Jack again?”
“Yes,” I said. “Look, I’ll explain inside, but first—if I release you, are you going to be sensible and not attack me?”
She hesitated. “Yes.”
As affirmations went, it wasn’t entirely convincing, but it wasn’t exactly practical to remain out here, either. I untied her from the tree, but kept hold of her leash just in case. It was always better safe than sorry when it came to mothers protecting their young.
I motioned her to proceed, then followed her around to the front door. Despite looking ready to collapse, the old steps held our weight without problem. I spelled open the front door and waved her on.
“So when did he die?” she asked, her footsteps echoing against the old wooden floors. “Because he was definitely alive when Sabine went in to get Jack.”
“The coroner hasn’t had a chance to give us a definite time of death, but it obviously happened not long after your witch kidnapped your son.”
“Reclaimed,” the woman spat. “I was reclaiming him.”
The little boy came running out of the front room and launched himself at his mother’s legs. She stooped and picked him up.
“Say hello to Freddie, Mommy,” he said, shoving the old teddy into her face.
Her brief smile was tense, but she nevertheless dropped a kiss on the bear’s threadbare nose. “I’m glad you’re back with us, Freddie.”
Jack glanced at me and, with all the upfront curiosity of a young child, said, “Who are you?”
“I just need to ask your mom and her friend a few questions—that okay?”
“Are you the police?”
“No. I’m one of the reservation witches.”
“You can do magic? Show me.”
“Perhaps later. I really need to talk to your mom.”
He regarded me steadily for a second, then nodded solemnly. “You brought Freddie back.”
Obviously, bringing Freddie back put me in his “to be trusted” books. It was a shame his mother definitely did not hold the same opinion.
She bent and placed her son back on the ground. “You go and watch TV while this lady and I have a chat in the kitchen. Okay?”
The kid nodded and raced off. I once again motioned her to lead the way. There was no way known I’d trust the bitch to walk behind me. Not when her aura remained a roiling mess of emotions.
Up ahead, a door slammed and three sets of footsteps echoed. Monty had obviously caught the royal witch, but I had no sense he was using any sort of spell to contain her.
The three of them entered the kitchen the same time as we did. The other witch was thin and pale and older than I’d presumed. Her eyes were also blue rather than silver, which suggested there was human blood in her background somewhere. It didn’t make her any less proficient at her craft, of course, as the spell she’d cast at Duke confirmed.
He led her across to the small table and sat her on one of the four chairs. His left cheek was scraped and bloody, and his golden eyes filled with annoyance. “Move,” he growled, “and I might just be tempted to toss you as far as you tossed me.”
“That’s against the law, and we both know it,” the woman said, somewhat snippily.
“Not in a reservation, and not when we’re dealing with a murder. Sit quietly unless you’re asked a damn question.”
I motioned my captive toward the two of them, then dismantled the rope spell and stopped beside Monty. “I don’t believe either of them were involved in the murder, Duke. It’s more a case of unfortunate timing. The mother—”
“Jessica,” she muttered. “Jessica Brown.”
“—won custody of Jack during divorce proceedings, but the father disappeared with him during an access visitation a year ago. Police had no success in tracing him, so Jessica hired our witch here in a last-ditch effort to find them.”
“We didn’t do anything wrong,” Jessica said. “And there is a warrant out on Kyle.”
“We’ll check,” Duke said.
The witch shot him a glance. “Feel free, but I don’t undertake a job that’s likely to land me on the wrong side of the law. I fully checked Jessica’s story before I started looking.”