Page 99 of A Witchy Spell Ride
I was already moving.
First, the hallway.
I mapped it like a crime scene and a prayer. Heel on tile. Blood the size of a tear. A scuff mark where skin met wall, her ring had left a moon-scratch in the paint. Something fine and bright twinkled low to the floor, glitter dust. Good girl. Leave me a trail.
“Cross,” I said, dropping to a knee. “Pull every camera between here and the bathrooms, both ends. Time stamp from when she left the bar.”
“I’m up,” he said, already scrubbing video. “Trip line bell at 21:47, one jingle. Not enough to alert over the music, but it pinged the system.”
Briar’s breath caught. “I told her to keep her foot light. She—” She swallowed. “She tried.”
“She did,” I said, lifting the heel with two fingers. The strap was torn clean, not frayed—yanked. The blood smear was fresh, bright. “Chloroform,” I added, catching the sour-sweet residue on the cloth abandoned near the corner. “Rag dropped here.”
Vex produced a zip bag like a magician and I sealed the rag. Cross’s eyes flicked up. “If he touched that without gloves, it’s a gift.”
Bones knelt by the baseboard. “Look.” He tapped a fine line of dust disturbed under the vent, too high for regular boots, too low for an elbow. “He knew our blind spots.”
“He studied us,” I said.
“Or someone told him,” Vex replied.
Ash handed me a flashlight. I tracked a faint drag pattern where weight had shifted, he’d hauled her around the bend, not carried. Quick, practiced. Feet narrow, size ten maybe. A second set of prints, lighter, jittery, an accomplice. Two of them. One calm. One not.
“Cross?” I asked.
“Back hallway cam from the bar catches the edge of a cap at 21:45. Then static.” He swore softly. “He looped me. Ten seconds, just enough to blur a grab and a turn.”
“Vent feed?” Reaper asked.
“No access on this stretch,” Cross said, pissed at himself. “Adding one tomorrow is late today.”
“Door feeds,” I said. “Show me exit paths.”
Cross threw four windows to the wall. The back door: closed, then a blip. A sliver of light, shadow like a shoulder, the door easing shut. The lot: white van with a magnet company logo we’ve seen before. Passenger door open for three beats, then closed. Driver never leaves.
“Van plate’s borrowed,” Cross said. “Same cousin’s vehicle we flagged. He swapped magnets. Badge readsRiver Grove Heatingtonight.”
“River Grove Motel,” I murmured. “Full circle.”
“Timeline,” Reaper snapped.
Cross pointed. “21:42 Selene peels off the main room. 21:45 cap at the corner. 21:47 bell jingle. 21:48 back door opens and closes with a body in the shadow. 21:49 van door shuts. 21:50 they’re moving.”
I checked my watch. “We’re at 21:57.”
“We have a window,” Reaper said. “We use it.”
Briar’s eyes were wildfire. “I’m going with you.”
“No,” Reaper and I said together.
She set her jaw. “You think I’ll slow you down?”
“I think if he sees you, he learns our tells,” I said. “You stay with Cross. Find me that van if it breathes wrong.”
She hated it. She stayed.
Vex brought me gear already prepped: gloves, a low-vis comm, a slim pry. Bones traded me his extra blade without words. Ash handed over a small, ugly pistol I didn’t need and took it back when I didn’t take it.
