I jumped off my sleigh bed and went into my bathroom, taking one look at the hair mashed to the side of my face and my puffy eyes, and I didn’t care what Atti was going to say about it—I’d frighten the staff of the hospital, looking like this.
Snapping my fingers, I closed my eyes and let my magic do its thing, letting the warmth of it wash over me. My teeth instantly felt clean, my breath was fresh, my hair was brushed and up in a quick topknot, my eyes were no longer puffy and my clothes magically replaced my pajamas.
Atticus instantly buzzed into the bathroom and hovered by my head.
“I’m worried, Atti. The nurse said Uncle Monty was fine, but why would they want me to come in so late at night?”
“I don’t know, Poppet. It could be a hundred different things. Don’t fret now. Simply stay the course and focus. No panicking until we know there’s a reason to do so. Now, shall I come with?”
“No. Stay put in case Uncle Darling wakes up.” Snapping my fingers again, I conjured up my favorite boots, looking down to be sure they were tied. “Don’t say a word, Atti. Not a word. I’m not going to the hospital looking like I just hopped out of the garbage bin.”
“I shan’t,” he said groggily, his deep voice, so reminiscent of Lou Rawls’s, even deeper after slumber. “I’m too tired to fight you, Poppet. In fact, zap yourself over there rather than driving and I shall have your truck waiting for you, toasty and warm in the parking lot when you’re finished.
I mock gasped at him in the mirror. “Atti? Are you—are you becoming a softie in your old age?”
“The mere thought gives me the vapors. No, Halliday, I’m becoming exhausted with your constant involvement in the affairs of murder. Now, be on your way, and I shall ensure Andrew stays asleep. I don’t imagine you need his brand of dramatics this eve.”
I kissed my fingers and smiled at him. “Thanks, Atti. See you in a bit.” I gave him a quick stroke on his tiny head and snapped my fingers again—landing squarely on the side of the hospital in the dark parking lot.
I fell out of my transportation spell with a jolt, almost smacking into the brick face of the hospital before I caught myself and faceplanted to the ground.
Squaring my shoulders, I smoothed out my jacket and, as I made my way into the lobby of the hospital, saw that Atti had indeed dropped my truck in the parking lot for me.
With a smile of gratitude, I hit the elevator button for Uncle Monty’s floor and stepped inside with a yawn, curious to know what was so urgent.
When I stepped out, I didn’t need anyone to tell me what was so urgent. I saw for myself.
The short walk from Uncle Monty’s room to the elevator was strewn with all manner of medical debris. A bedpan lie on the floor, along with a toppled cart of medicine, now strewn across the tiles, colorful pills and the tiny plastic cups they divided them into all lining the halls.
I ran to my uncle’s room, my feet clapping loudly. Skidding to a halt, I grabbed the doorframe of his room, which was wide open.
His room was also a mess. The chair was toppled over, his TV tray tipped on its side.
And there were drops of blood on the floor.
His bed was surrounded by nurses and a doctor, making my heart crash in hard beats against my ribs.
“What the frack happened?” I had to fight not to scream the words.
“Miss Valentine?” a male voice said from behind.
I whipped around to find a fresh-faced police officer, the one I assumed had been watching my uncle this evening, staring down at me with a serious expression.
“There was an incident.”
“An incident?”
He nodded curtly. “Someone, dressed as hospital staff, got into your uncle’s room and tried to strangle him.”
Chapter 14
A Holly Jolly Christmas
Written by, Johnny Marks 1965
I sat by my uncle’s bed, forcing a smile to my face. His head was still bandaged with more gauze than I thought could possibly exist in all of Marshmallow Hollow, and his arms were bruised from the pokes of the needle for his IV.
“What can I get you, Uncle Monty. Do you need something to drink? More pain meds?”
“I need a fishbowl of tequila and a good Cuban cigar,” he groused. If my Uncle Darling was flamboyant and over the top, my Uncle Monty was practical and down-to-earth. He was the calm to Darling’s storm.
I ran my hand over the uninjured side of his forehead and giggled. “In light of the fact that Uncle Darling would probably skin me alive, there’ll be no booze for you, buddy, but I promise, if you get better soon, I’ll make you a margarita that’ll knock your support socks off.”
He gurgled a laugh and reached for my hand. “I do love you, kiddo. You know that, right?”
I looked at the angry red marks on his neck and tried to keep my rage in check. “I love you, too, and the next time you want to get me flowers? How about you just ask Uncle Darling to conjure them up?”
He laughed, then put his hand to his head. “Man, that smarts. I don’t think the old noggin’s ever going to be the same.”
“You sacred me to death, Uncle Monty,” I whispered with a sniffle.
“I scared me, too. But it’s okay, Hal, honey. What would a trip be without a little adventure?”
“I’d prefer your adventures didn’t land you in the hospital with major brain surgery.”
“I did a million shows on the road with testy drag queens who all have an opinion on their best light. You don’t think a little brain surgery’s going to get me down, do you?”
I shook my head with a soft laugh. “You need to get some rest, and so do I, because when Uncle Darling finds out someone attacked you, he’s going to spit an entire can of glitter hairspray. Now, before I go, can you tell me anything more than you told the police about this attack, or is that all you remember?”
He looked at me with tired eyes. “Just what I told them, Hal. I didn’t see anything until he had his hands around my neck and he was above me. Woke me up from a sound sleep. He wore a mask and one of those surgical caps, too.” Uncle Monty shook his head with a wince. “I don’t know how I managed to knock that vase of flowers on the nightstand over, but I’m thanking all the forces that be that I did. That nice kid outside came in here like a bat outta Hades. They fought just like you see on those cop shows, but he got away anyhow.”
According to the officer in charge of watching after my uncle, the man who’d done this had taken off after a skirmish. The police had searched the perimeter of the hospital and the surrounding areas, but had come up dry.
Of course, there’d be video from the hospital corridors, but how much help could it be if he wore a surgical cap and mask?
But make no mistake. That man wanted to kill my Uncle Monty for what he thought he knew. What he thought Uncle Monty saw. And I wasn’t going to let that happen. There had to be some kind of protection spell I could put on him to keep him safe.
Yet, the only one I knew of wouldn’t keep him from being strangled, or worse. I was a pretty decent witch given the right circumstances, but I wasn’t that boss.
“Did he say anything, Uncle Monty? Anything to give us an indication about who he is?”