Page 32 of Marcus-stiltskin

“Who’s Freddie K.? What do you mean he keeps sending you pictures?”

I stop. “Freddie K. is my friend’s dog. He sends me mental images of things he wants to tell me.”

She laughs. “How long has he been doing that?”

I shrug and feel instantly dumb. She can’t see me. “I don’t know. A few days now. Is there a problem? I thought it was just a witch thing.”

She lets out a long breath. “Sarah, have you had any more accidental fires in the last few days?”

I stop and think back. “No.”

“Freddie K. is your familiar.”

“Oh.”

There’s a pause, as she answers someone’s question, before she asks, “Do any other animals try to communicate with you that way? With the pictures?”

“No. Just Freddie K.”

She chuckles. “I’m going to text you the number of a friend of mine. She’s a fire witch. You need way more help than I can give you.”

“Oh, okay. Is that bad?”

“No. It just is. I’m at the office. I’ll tell everyone here to be on the lookout for her. We’ll call you as soon as we see her.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh and you might text Randy Lamar since she’s heading that way. He loves horses.”

“Randy Lamar?” I can’t picture him anywhere near a horse.

“Yeah. The Lamars used to be big ranchers. Randy and his big brother were some of the best horsemen in this part of the state before his brother died. Randy’s always had a way with horses. It’s a shame he doesn’t really work with them much any longer.”

“I would have never guessed.”

“Yeah. Send him a text.”

“Okay, I will.” I end the call and check the phone for a text from Marcus, but there is still nothing. I text Randy Lamar to be on the lookout for Ramona and shoo the donkeys from the shrubs. They give me what I imagine are annoyed looks as they unwillingly move away from the house and out into the grass.

I’m on my third round of shooing when Marcus finally pulls up on an old golf cart. He skids to a stop and pushes up from the cart, pausing for a moment as he steps down to get his balance. “Sorry, I was in the shower when you called. I got here as fast as I could. I brought snacks and Ramona’s saddle.” He pulls out a bag of apples and, immediately, the donkeys take notice. They move toward him as he stops and looks around.

“Where’s Ramona?”

I sigh. “She ran to town. I called my friend, Darla, at the animal clinic and told them to be on the lookout.”

He sighs. “I probably should get the horse trailer hooked up and go look for her.”

“It wasn’t that long ago.”

He grimaces and looks in the direction of the road. “Yeah, but she thinks she’s a race horse. She loves to run.”

My phone picks that exact moment to ding with a notification. I pull it and let out a sigh of relief. “Randy’s got her.”

“Randy?”

“My boss. See?” I hand him the phone where Randy’s sent me a picture of Ramona in the parking lot of the Wild Hare.

“Can he hold onto her until I can get there?”

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