Page 41 of The Water Witch (Fairwick Chronicles 2)

FIFTEEN

Iwalked back home thinking about all I’d learned from Jen Davies…and all I hadn’t. It wasn’t encouraging. And what had Jen meant by that crack about an incubus invasion? She’d refused to say anything more about it, but I suspected she’d said it for a reason. Did she think that my incubus was back? Did she know something I didn’t?

I got out my cell phone to call Liz, but realized I had a problem before hitting her number. How did I tell Liz what I’d learned from a member of the Grove without telling her that I was also a member?

As I was trying to decide what to do, I saw Ann Chase on the opposite side of the street. She was with a young woman, coming out of a trim, pretty bungalow, its front path lined with thick clusters of zinnias and daisies. They were carrying piles of brightly colored flyers. Ann saw me and waved. I put my phone away and crossed the street, glad of a diversion from making a hard decision.

“I hope you haven’t lost a pet,” I said as I approached, thinking that the most likely reason for putting up flyers. The woman with Ann raised a stricken face. I saw that she wasn’tas young as I’d thought—and that she had Down syndrome. “Not ours! Silver is safe at home. We’re not going to let her out until it’s safe.”

“That’s right, Jessica,” Ann said, patting her daughter on the arm. “Nothing’s going to happen to Silver. That’s our cat,” Ann added to me with a patient smile. “We’re keeping her in while there are so many…strangersin town.”

“I’m not supposed to talk to strangers,” Jessica said, shuffling the stack of flyers in her hands. They had been Xeroxed in multiple DayGlo colors. I looked at the one that they’d just stapled to the telephone pole and saw that it featured the face of a young man above the words MISSING:TOBIAS GRANGER, AGE 26,LAST SEEN FISHING ON THE LOWER UNDINE,JUNE 16.

“He’s been gone for two days?” I asked.

“He works at the animal shelter and he’s my friend,” Jessica said.

“I’m sure he’ll come home soon,” I told Jessica, hoping it was true.

“Thank you,” Ann said, a pained look on her face as she looked away from me to Jessica. “Jessica wanted to do something to help.”

“I’m sure that these flyers will help,” I said. “And they’re in such bright colors. Everybody will notice them.”

“I picked out the colors,” Jessica said proudly, and then, turning to Ann, “We need to go. There are a lot more to put up.”

Ann smiled apologetically at me as she continued down Elm with her daughter—and I continued up the hill in a somber mood. Soheila had told me that Ann used what Aelvesgold she could find for her daughter. I knew that a number of physical ailments and a shortened life expectancy often accompanied Down syndrome. It was painful to think what might happen to Jessica if the supply of Aelvesgold was cut off.

As it was bound to be if we didn’t stop the Grove from closing the door. Wasn’t it cowardly to worry about keeping my affiliation with the Grove secret when so much was at stake? What I needed, I decided, as I walked up my front path, was a sign…

Something heavy fell at my feet.

I bent down to look at it. It was a hammer. What the hell kind of sign was that?

“Are you okay?”

The voice came from above. Was that my message? I stepped back and looked up at my roof, shading my eyes against the sun. A dark figure limned by white light stood above me. It reminded me of the dark lover in my dream, the way he’d been haloed by light…

“I’m so sorry,” the figure on my roof said, “It slipped.”

No, not a guardian angel or my dream lover; it was Handyman Bill. I’d forgotten all about him.

“It’s okay,” I said, handing him his hammer, “no harm done. But maybe it’s a sign…” I smiled to myself at the wording I’d chosen. “…that we both need a break.”

I made a pitcher of lemonade and a turkey sandwich and ordered Bill off the roof. It was clear he’d been working all morning. His T-shirt was drenched and clinging to his chest—a rather nice chest, I couldn’t help noticing—and sweat was beading his forehead below the rim of his baseball cap, which he kept on while draining the lemonade.

“How’s it going?” I asked, refilling his glass and handing him the sandwich. I tried to steer him to the table on the porch, but he remained standing.

“Good. I’ve replaced about half the missing tiles. Did all these tiles come off in the last rain?”

“No, some were damaged in that storm last fall. You must remember it—that big ice storm the day before Thanksgiving?” Of courseIremembered it only too well. The storm had been a result of my first attempt to banish the incubus. He had become enraged and lashed back with hundred-mile-an-hour winds that snapped trees like twigs, took down power lines, and incapacitated the town for a week.

“Oh,thatstorm. I was…out of town for that.”

“Lucky you,” I said, determined not to pry into my handyman’s private life. “It did a lot of damage. The town’s still recovering…Of course, I guess that’s good for you. There’s plenty of work.”

“I’m grateful for the work, but I don’t like to think it comes at the expense of other people’s bad fortune,” Bill said gravely. “I’m just glad I can fix some of it.”

“Oh well, I guess there’s not much you can do about bad weather…” I faltered and looked away, recalling that I’d been the unwitting cause of the last two storms and all the damage they’d caused—including the human damage. I looked back at Bill and saw him staring at me. He probably thought I was nuts. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re here to fix the roof now.”

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