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"I miss Serena and I wish she was still here, but even if she was, I'm not sure--" He swallowed hard. His jaw worked. Then he said, slowly, "It's not going to happen with Nicole, Maya. She's cute and she's nice, but that's ..."
He shifted, rolling his shoulders. "I don't know how to say this without being cruel."
"Go ahead. It'd never get back to her. You know that."
He nodded. "With Nicole ... cute and nice is all you get. There's nothing else there. The same reason you don't want her as a new best friend is the same reason I don't want her as a girlfriend. I know you think maybe that would be good for me--someone who won't demand a lot--but I'm okay." He looked at me. "It's you I'm worried about."
I turned away to toss my muffin in the trash. "I'm fine."
"I know why you want to talk to Mina Lee," he said. "You want to find out if she knows anything about Serena's death."
I stopped, hand still over the garbage can.
His voice dropped. "You want to know how she died. Why she died. You want answers."
I dropped the muffin. "I know it was probably a freak accident. I know I'll never get a why, because there isn't one. I know that this reporter almost certainly doesn't have any answers for me. I just want--" I faced him. "I need to ask."
He looked like he wanted to say something. Even opened his mouth. Then he snapped it shut and nodded. "Let's check out that book first, so we know what her message meant before we confront her."
Reference books were on the second floor of the library. We found the one Mina Lee put on the card and took it to my favorite spot, a lone table on the far side of the stacks where light streamed through the window.
The book was an old text on agrarian cults that hadn't been checked out in years. Big shock there. Satanic cults, sex cults, drug cults--I'm sure they all get their share of interest. But agricultural cults? I didn't even know there were such things.
Daniel turned to the page as I looked over his shoulder. One word caught my eye.
"Witches?" I said. "Shouldn't this have been sent to me?"
"Not witches," he said, pointing. "Witch-hunters. An Italian cult of witch-hunters."
"Okay, so what's the connection to you? Your parents are Italian and you like fighting. Oh my God. You're a witch-hunter. I'm a witch. Hate to break it to you, Daniel, but if you're a witch-hunter? You're doing it wrong."
He gave me a sidelong smile. "Maybe it's not that kind of hunting."
"Then you're definitely doing it wrong."
He laughed and we continued reading, trying to find something--anything--that would tell us why Mina wanted Daniel to see this. The whole two-page spread was about this cult. The benandanti, which translated to "good walkers." Apparently, they believed that, on certain nights of the year, their spirits left their bodies and went out to protect the crops by fighting evil witches.
This wasn't just a myth, either. Like some people claimed to be skinwalkers, some claimed to be benandanti. Or they did before the Inquisition, when they were rounded up and executed as witches. If they insisted they had supernatural powers, then they were also witches, and it didn't matter that they were supposedly using those powers for good and for the benefit of the Catholic Church. They were evil. So they were hunted and killed.
It was only when Daniel turned the page that we figured out why Mina directed him to this book. There, written at the end of the section on the benandanti was a note. "If you want to know the truth about Salmon Creek, call me." A phone number followed.
Daniel flipped over the card Mina had left him. The number was the same as her cell.
"Okay, does this make any sense at all?" he said. "Why not just write the message on the back of the card?"
"Two possible reasons. One, she was afraid someone else would find the card. So she found a book no one was likely to check out. Two ..." I looked around the library. "She's waiting for you to show up, hoping to talk to you away from town."
"Okay, but ... the truth about Salmon Creek?"
I snorted. "She wants you to tell her the so-called truth. Proof of animal testing, horrific medical experiments ..." I shook my head. "Call her again. I'll skulk around, see if she's here."
Mina wasn't at the library or outside it. Nor was she answering her phone.
Before we left, I wanted to look up skinwalkers. No, I wasn't obsessing--I had my answer and I was happy with it. But I was curious about the paw-print birthmark connection. The more information I had, the easier it would be for me to mentally file the whole thing and forget it.
Most of what we found on skinwalkers was fiction. We only dug up a few brief references in books on Native beliefs and occult mythology. The Navajo don't like to talk about them. Like I said, some believe skinwalkers really exist. Treating them lightly invites trouble.
Those references did confirm what I told Daniel. Skinwalkers are evil witches who cast curses and take on the form of animals, usually canines. When we checked the internet, we did find one reference to them also shifting into bear form, but not cat, and no mention of them bearing any kind of mark, let alone a paw print. Clearly just an old woman's ramblings.
