Page 13 of Witch (Gray Wolf Security #24)

“Nine! Nine!” yelled Hiro. “There’s a man up at the diner demanding to know where the Robicheaux property is located. I think it’s our witch-hunter.”

“Thanks, Hiro. Keep an eye on the cameras.” Nine turned to the others in the cafeteria. “Max, Rory, Noah, and Noa. Come with me. We’re going to show this man how to give respect to others.”

“Maybe we should go with you,” said Suzette. “We can talk to him, gently, and show him that we’re nothing more than working women, wives, mothers, grandmothers.”

“She could be right, Nine,” said Camille.

“Alright. Alright, you two can come. Just you two. Let’s go.”

Loading everyone into the SUVs, they drove around the main entrance, up River Road from the south, to make it appear they were just arriving guests. When the door opened, the bell ringing, Marcus Hopkins was complaining that his soup wasn’t hot enough.

“It’s soup. It should be between one hundred and thirty-six-degrees Fahrenheit and one hundred and sixty-seven-degrees Fahrenheit. This is one hundred and thirty-five-degrees Fahrenheit.” He waved his metal thermometer in the air at her.

“Sir, I assure you it was the correct temperature when removed from the pot. If you don’t want it, I’ll take it back,” said Sylvia, reaching for the bowl.

He slapped the back of her hand with the thermometer like a child being chastised in Sunday school. She squealed and pulled her hand back.

Hopkins felt a terrible pain in his shoulder, and he cried out, no longer caring about the soup. The attacker twisted his body on the stool at the counter, turning him to face him.

Rory glared at the man’s face and then looked at Sylvia.

“Sylvia, you okay, hun?” he asked.

“I’m good,” she said. “I was more surprised than hurt. He’s mad because his soup was one degree too cool.”

“Really,” said Max. He picked up the soup, dipping his little finger in it. Then, he poured the soup on Hopkins’ lap. The man howled in pain. “Seems like it was plenty hot.”

“I’ll sue you!”

“Oh, please, I beg of you. Please sue so that we can show on camera how you struck the waitress,” said Nine.

“I know you people. I saw you at the witch’s funeral.”

“She was my mother, not a witch,” said Suzette, stepping forward. “Sylvia, let me see your hand.” She looked at the woman’s hand, and Hopkins watched with anticipation, waiting for the sparks, fairy dust, or other magic to appear.

“I’m okay, really I am,” said the woman.

“It’s red, but you should be fine. Just wash it well, and if it starts to hurt, see someone at the clinic.” The disappointment on Hopkins’ face was almost worth the visit.

“I see you didn’t really inherit your mother’s gifts,” he frowned.

“I don’t know what’s up your ass, mister,” said Camille, “but our mother was a good, God-fearing woman.

She was devoted to her faith, the church, her community, and her family.

My sister is a pharmacist. Very specifically, a research pharmacist. I help to run our family business.

My other sisters are nurses, artists, psychologists, and archaeologists.

We are educated businesswomen, not witches.

“Now, I’m not sure what your experience is with women who have brains, but clearly it isn’t much. I’m guessing women who can actually think for themselves frighten you.”

“Nine, listen carefully. Hopkins has pulled this shit for the last forty years. It’s never gotten further than his accusations, but dead women have followed him wherever he went.”

“Names,” said Nine. Hopkins stared at him, wondering what he meant.

“Ashley Bonaventure. Norine Dimarco. Finarie O’Hara. There are more, but that’s what I have so far.”

“Ashley, Norine, Finarie,” said Nine. The gray tinge to Hopkins’ skin told Nine everything he needed to know. “What did you do to them?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said with a haughty tone.

“You accused them of witchcraft, tried to bring them to trial, and then they were found dead. What did you do?”

“I did God’s work,” he said, lifting his chin.

“Does God’s work include murdering innocent women?” asked Max. “That’s not the God I know. You’ve been murdering women. Strong, passionate women who had no interest in you, is my guess.”

“Nonsense! I don’t need a woman to have or show interest in me. I need no one! My life is devoted to ridding the earth of evil women who use their devilish magic to ruin the world.”

“You need a good therapist,” said Noa. “I can recommend one to you if you don’t have one. This is the twenty-first century. It’s been proven that the witch trials were nothing more than ignorant, fearful people using religion as a weapon to kill innocent women whom they didn’t like.”

“I’m as sane as the next man, and none of those women were innocent. Or men,” he said, staring at them. “They were all guilty of working with the devil to cause harm. I can prove it. And I. Am. Sane.”

“Not in my book, buddy.”

“You are wod,” said Noah. The man stared at him, then pulled out his phone, searching for the word. Noah just smirked in his direction.

“I am not mad! And who uses a Viking word that no longer exists? You’re a witch as well!”

“It obviously does exist if you’ve found it on the internet,” said Suzette. “Look, whatever your reasons for being here, leave us in peace. Our mother and father are dead and buried. There is no reason for you to be anywhere near me or my sisters.”

“You and your sisters inherited your mother’s evil witchcraft. I will destroy you all.”

“You come within two feet of any of these women, and I will ensure that your body is never found,” said Noah.

“I was going to say three feet, but I can deal with two,” said Rory, nodding at his friend.

“This is illegal. You are harassing me!”

“Actually, it’s not illegal,” said Nine. “We own this diner, and we can serve who we like, or refuse service should we decide that person isn’t welcome. You are not welcome.”

“Fine. Fine! But you can’t stop me. I will hunt all of them down.”

“And you will die,” said Noa. Hopkins backed up to the door, raising his phone in the air and laughing.

“Ah hah! I have that recorded. You threatened me,” he said triumphantly.

“No, we didn’t,” said Camille. He hit the playback button on his phone and heard nothing but static.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “No, I recorded the entire thing. Witchcraft. This is witchcraft.”

“No, asshole,” said Nine. “It’s called technology. We don’t allow photographs or recording in the diner.”

“This changes nothing. I will find them, and I will kill them. I will kill them all!” He literally ran from the diner, jumping into his small rental car and taking off as if they were chasing him.

“He needs to die,” said Noah.

“Agree,” said Rory. Nine nodded with a frown, knowing he couldn’t grant their wish just yet.

“That might be, but we need to find out about the women who are missing or dead. I am sure their families would like to know what happened to them, and they deserve to have some sort of peace, wherever they are.

“There’s no doubt our little friend there is off his rocker, and I think we can prove that. In the meantime, you and your sisters need to remain on property until we can find those other women. If we can pin the murders on him, it would be better in the long run.”

“Longer but better,” said Suzette.

“Whose side are you on?” smirked Nine.

“Always yours, Nine. Always.”