Page 11 of Ogre on Patrol (Monsters, PI #5)

Chapter 11

Ellie

I exhaled, a shaky sound that made my insides twist with pain.

“Are you okay?” Thain asked.

I nodded, but damn. What was I going to do about this latest threat? I couldn’t handle half-demons. “Thank you, Thain. I appreciate you showing her that we’re a solid front. She's… I didn't curse her plant. Why wouldn’t she take her money back or a substitution?”

“Because she was angry about whatever’s happening in her life and wanted someone else to take the blame.”

He tugged me into his arms and held me while I quivered.

Finally, I backed away from him, swiping my hair off my face with trembling fingers.

“I'll help you clean up.” The normalcy in his voice helped. He was here. He was a steady, calming person. We'd figure this out together.

We took our dishes to the sink and scraped our leftovers into the trash. He ran water and added detergent, then started scrubbing while I dried and put the dishes away.

Doing something normal allowed me to calm down and make a list in my head of what I could do to fix this latest mess. Would the insurance company consider the cursed plant related to the bigger picture we hadn't figured out? Assuming this was all related. I had no idea how we'd determine that.

The muffled voices hit my ears first, and I paused while putting the last mug away inside the cupboard.

More noise erupted outside, shouts and what sounded like stomping feet.

My stomach churned, the French toast sitting heavy. Thain paused, squinting through the window above the sink, though it looked out at the woods.

“What is that?” I asked.

He tilted his head, listening. The way his brow furrowed told me he wasn’t dismissing it as loud neighbors or random traffic noise. I didn’t dare breathe. I strained to hear as the sounds grew louder, shriller.

Without a word, Thain went to the back door and opened it, craning his head toward the driveway, though I doubted he could see from here.

“Sounds like people,” he muttered. “A lot of them.”

My heart pretty much stopped. I inched up behind him, grabbing onto the back of his t-shirt. Worry settled in my chest, the kind I hadn’t felt since I’d moved into this house to start my new business. That had been a huge undertaking, a giant step for a woman who’d only worked at a greenhouse in the past, though I did have a college degree in horticulture.

Had Misty stirred up trouble this fast? No, it couldn’t be her. It had only been minutes since she’d left. But then my precognition magic prickled against my skin, and I knew another bad thing was about to happen.

I reached for the doorframe, steadying myself as my knees threatened to buckle. “That doesn’t sound like customers stopping by to pick out a few plants for their front porch.”

“I'm going outside,” Thain said, and I followed him off the back deck and across the lawn.

The tension in my chest made my ribs feel too tight. With Thain next to me, I felt safer, but that didn’t stop the ball of fear inside my chest from cinching tighter with every step.

The shouting grew louder as we stepped toward the driveway, voices cutting through the air and clawing their way into my skull. They were angry, sharp, and frantic. A mess I couldn’t make sense of. Until I saw it. Thirty or so people poured down my driveway, some holding signs, others pointing fingers. The closest faces were uncovered and familiar in a way that made me hurt to look at. Sandra, who’d once complimented my marigolds, saying their magical scent was the best she’d ever experienced. So much for that. And Greg, who swore by my blistermint he used to make oil for headaches. Plus many I didn’t know, their shouts blending in with the rest .

“What's going on?” I choked, the words barely making it out.

The swarm of protestors pushed forward, the shuffle of their feet putting me on edge. The signs were homemade. Big block letters screamed things like No More Thieving Witches , and Stealing from Nature is STILL Stealing . My jaw dropped as I stared at the largest one right up front, held high by a guy I vaguely recognized from the garden supply store. Send Her Back to the Swamp .

Thain leaned toward me, his voice coming out low. “Stay close.”

The lump in my throat refused to go down. My feet carried me farther along the driveway as Thain moved ahead, his hulking frame as much a barrier as a shield.

“This is insane,” I whispered when my voice crawled free. It sounded shakier than I liked.

“Do you know these people?” Thain asked, his hands flexing at his sides.

“Some,” I mumbled. “Not all of them.”

The gravel crunched as we got closer to where the driveway met the road, and part of me wanted to bolt the other way. The familiar faces I had once shared warm smiles and kind exchanges with were now twisted in anger. This wasn’t my town anymore. These weren’t my people.

“Ellie, this has to be connected to the article,” Thain said.

The protesters were already near the gate. My stupid self had never thought to close the two panels. My head spun, and I was already imagining how I’d have to make my way through the crowd to secure them. Lock them with magic, most likely. How would my customers get inside if I turned my place into a fortress?

The first wave surged past the open fence, charging up the driveway like they had every right to do so.

I stepped closer to Thain. Cowardly as it sounded, he was my best shot at protecting what little was left of my dignity this morning.

“It looks like we have visitors,” I said, my voice trembling. “The nasty kind.”

The shouting didn’t die down. If anything, it grew louder, a storm brewing right here in my side yard. My legs felt useless, stuck to the gravel. This didn't feel like my neighborhood anymore. These weren’t the smiles and greetings I’d come to accept as the norm. Even the morning sun above seemed too bright, too sharp, cutting down on me like it was equally unimpressed with what I'd been accused of.

“Ellie,” Thain said. “Do you want to handle this or shall I?”

I was all about fighting my battles and if these were witches like me, I could use magic in my own defense. The rules were clear about that, and these people were trespassing. But the rules for how witches must behave with others were equally clear. Even if my magic could handle a threat like this, I couldn't use it against them, not without suffering legal consequences. And I was in enough trouble already without adding council upset to this mess .

“Go for it,” I whispered. “But don't do anything we're not allowed to do.”

“They're threatening you,” he growled. “They're on your property. I will not allow this to continue.” He stepped forward, his big form moving like a concrete barrier between me and the shouting people. His presence alone seemed to slow them down, though not completely. A woman at the front, Sandra—of course it had to be Sandra from Monstrous Munchies, pushed her chin up, holding a homemade sign scrawled in bright red paint saying I deserved to be burned at the stake.

No wonder my ancestors had remained hidden for so long.

“You think you can keep the truth locked up in there?” Sandra snarled, poking the tip of her sign toward the closest greenhouse. “We know what you’ve been doing. You’re stealing from the nature reserve.”

The words cracked like a whip, setting off a chain reaction. Others chimed in, their voices filled with outrage, as if they’d uncovered the crime of the century and weren’t on my front lawn, trespassing.

“I haven’t stolen anything.” My voice wobbled but rose above the furor, though it felt like I was yelling into a hurricane. “The article isn't true.” Time to force a retraction and issue a cease and desist, or whatever it was lawyers did to put a stop to things like this. I hadn’t even been questioned about a possible crime, let alone arrested.

A man I vaguely recognized from my latest stop at Shriek & Nail jabbed a finger toward the far end of the property. “What’s in those greenhouses, huh? Stolen plants stuffed away to make a profit at this town's expense, I bet.”

Fury churned through me. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” The words flew out before I could stop them, my hands clenching at my sides. I took a step forward, but Thain grabbed my arm before I could storm past him.

“Don't engage,” he said, leaving me to approach the gates.

As he started swinging one closed, a protestor broke through the pack, a teenager with too much determination in her eyes and not enough sense in her head. She darted by him and raced toward the greenhouses.

“I'm checking for myself,” she yelled, dropping her Thief! sign on my driveway.

“This is private property,” I shouted, but she kept going. “You’re trespassing!”

Thain moved like a boulder rolling downhill, running to place himself between her and the greenhouses. His sharp gaze froze her mid-step. She hesitated, her bravado fading as she skittered back into the safety of the crowd. But the damage was already done, both to my nerves and the morning.

I ran over to close the second gate, securing the padlock I hadn't used since I bought the place. It literally creaked but snapped into place on the chain.

I backed over to stand with Thain, wondering what we could do now .

“Don't look,” Thain said, his attention focused on my greenhouses.

Which meant I looked, of course.

It took a second for the red streak across the glass to register. My stomach dropped like I’d swallowed a bowling ball. THIEF. RETURN THE PLANTS!

Red paint dripped down in uneven spears, like fresh blood. My legs wobbled, and a groan wrenched up my throat. “No. No, no, no…”

Thain’s hand landed on my shoulder, and he squeezed. “One of them, I'd say? We’ll find out. I’ll make sure of it.”

We still hadn't put cameras on the place. I'd delayed that because they cost so much, but this was costing me more than top-notch security. And as long as the person or persons kept acting, I couldn't fight back. I needed evidence to pin them down and convict them.

I skimmed my eyes across the other greenhouses and groaned again. The door to one of the smaller structures hung open, snapping back and forth in the wind. And the glass…

My feet moved before my brain could catch up, carrying me toward the greenhouse with Thain’s heavy footsteps behind. My heart twisted tighter with every step. I could barely suck in a breath.

Reaching the door, I shoved it open, and the sight inside hit harder than anything scrawled in paint. Pots had been toppled over, and soil lay spilled in messy clumps across the concrete floor. Delicate plants lay in heaps, some with their roots exposed, their fragile lives wilting under the sunlight pouring through the glass overhead. Every detail screamed violation, and the ache in my chest sharpened into something worse than pain. I felt so helpless.

“They ripped everything apart,” I whispered, my eyes stinging with tears. “They just?—”

Thain came up behind me, wrapping his arms around me and tugging me against his chest. “Ellie, let’s step back outside. Don't touch or step on anything if you can avoid it.”

Ah, yes. I didn’t want to mess up the evidence.

“I'm sorry. I'm going to make sure nothing like this happens again.”

But how? We'd made no progress in discovering anything, though it hadn't been long.

And it was escalating. What would they do next, burn down my house? A chill ripped through me, and I hugged my waist, doing all I could not to sob. The stupid protestors remained at the gate, shouting slurs and demanding I hand over plants I hadn't stolen.

Everything was falling apart.

Thain turned on his heel and marched back toward the crowd. By the time I followed, he was already at the gate, his voice silencing even the angriest voices.

“You need to leave, or we'll bring charges for harassment. Ellie has not been accused or arrested for a crime and last I knew, humans believed someone was innocent until proven guilty. Go. You don't belong here. You're not welcome, not even when Ellie reopens for business.” His voice lifted. “Shame on you all. Shame on you for frightening an innocent woman, for threatening her.” He pulled his phone from his pocket. “I've got Detective Carter on speed dial, and I'm calling him now. When he gets here, we'll be pressing charges on anyone who's still around.” He pushed a button on the screen and held it up to his ear.

The crowd stilled, a few protestors shifting on their feet. Signs sagged to their sides.

“Hey, Detective?” he snarled into the phone. “We've got problems at Ellie's greenhouse. Trespassing. Vandalism. Protestors are here and they breached the gate. We'd like to charge a bunch of them with harassment too. Thanks.” He hung up and sent the group a grim smile. “On his way. He's in the neighborhood already.”

Sirens punctuated his words and made his grin grow even more feral. “Who wants to dare me?”