Page 20 of Bewitched By the Headless Horseman
“Of course you don’t.” She sighed. “I’m the one doing all the work here for a man who has only thrown a couple of breadcrumbs of secrets at me.”
“I can’t reveal everything to a woman who so easily would’ve cursed me to the Hollow with a crucifix, now can I? You’ll have togainmy trust.” His voice came out sultry, deeper than usual.
She scoffed. “Were you this annoying when you were alive?”
He chuckled, ignoring her comment. “And what about you, Pumpkin? Doyouknow how to pick a lock?”
“Well, no. That’s why I asked you.” Stevie frowned, shaking the lock one more time, hoping it would just break off.
“Seems we’re even, so get rid of that line between your brows.” His gloved finger ran up the spot, and her response was more delayed to duck back than she’d expected. For whatever stupid reason, she’d wanted to find out if he would be warm or cool to the touch.
“Put that dirty finger of yours away,” Stevie grumbled. She surveyed the room, thinking of something she could use. There wasn’t a crowbar simply lying around, not that she knew if she could even use one properly on this. She grabbed a knife from the kitchen and as she slid it into the slit of the trunk, then put her weight onto it, the blade broke from the handle.
Stevie was about to look up how to break a padlock on her phone but decided to just go next door to wake Lucia to spell it to open. As she walked to the door, Kit said silkily, “I do believe you can just unscrew the backing of the padlock.”
Her eyes bulged and she spun around, her gaze falling to the four screws that her idiot self hadn’t noticed. “How long have you knownthat?”
“I assumed a tool was what you were getting from the kitchen and when you returned with a pitiful knife, I figured I’d wait and see how this played out. It didn’t go very well,” he replied, amusement in his voice.
Stevie shot him a glare. “You’re seriously driving me crazy. Hold on.” She riffled through the kitchen drawer, past junk and the tool kit her dad had given her, until she found a screwdriver. “Ah ha!”
Sinking back to the floor in the living room, Stevie worked on the first screw. She fumbled a few times, seeing as the little pest was in there tightly.
“So, where do you keep your jack-o’-lantern?” she asked as she finally got the first one out, the screw clinking against the wooden table.
“Hmm.” He tsked. “I call on him when it’s time to replace my head.”
“That’s weird. Sounds like witchy magic was involved in this. I don’t think you’re a warlock though, so someone helped you before.” Stevie blew out a breath as she removed the second screw. He still hadn’t uttered a word. “Your silence means I’m right. I’ll get your secrets out soon enough.” She would pester him about them until he told her or he was so annoyed he’d never come back.
“You think so?” A smile lingered in his voice.
“Oh, I know so.” She grinned, setting the third screw on the table. “How did you come across your horse?”
“Why?” he cooed.
“Because I don’t see any other ghosts riding horses.” Her hand slipped on the last screw while turning it. “Okay, these screws are getting on my nerves. I should’ve just woken Lucia.”
“You could’ve asked for my assistance,” Kit said.
Stevie arched a brow at him. “You could’ve mentioned that five minutes ago, and anyway, it wouldn’t have worked,” she grunted, pulling the last screw out.
The padlock easily came off, the scraping sound echoing off the walls. Holding her breath in anticipation, her heart thundering, she pressed her hands on either side of the metal lid and drew it open.
Stevie blinked as she gazed into the box’s depths, her breath slowly coming out, her eyes widening.
“Your head is in the way. Do you see my bones?” Kit asked.
A loud snort escaped her while she sifted through the trunk’s contents. “Not yet, but you’ve got to see this, Kit! Get over here.” She scooted to the side and made room for him to sink down beside her.
Stevie lifted a straw doll swathed in black clothing and a long cape, its head missing. She shoved the doll into Kit’s invisible face and grinned. “It resembles you perfectly.”
“That’s just appalling,” Kit muttered, taking the doll from her and rolling it over in his gloves as he inspected it.
Stevie reached in and fished out four bulky books and set them in front of him. All different versions of theLegend of Sleepy Hollow. A stack of pictures with a disintegrated rubber band around them came next. They were of someone dressed as the Headless Horseman years ago. Below that, a heavy snow globe showcased the Horseman on his mighty black steed inside the glass.
Adding to the collection was a film reel with a yellowed, peeling sticker on the front of the 1949 movie, a dinner setconsisting of plates and teacups—the Horseman painted on them—and a sack full of handmade items.
“It looks like you had a hardcore fan,” Stevie snickered, then sobered as her fingers brushed a large wooden box at the bottom.
