Page 65 of Within These County Lines

I take a deep breath. “Sorry I took the past few days off from coyote hunting. There’s been so much going on. Did you catch the beast?”

“It’s cool.” Whitley gets up and grabs a soda from the fridge. “I haven’t been out to the woods either. I’m too busy playing veterinarian. But if you’re free soon, we should hunt again.” She cracks open the can and retakes her seat. “We’re letting that killer get too comfortable.”

I salute her. “But if I keep helping with hunting, will you help me with something too?”

“Yes.” She takes a long sip. “But only if you start sharing what’s been going on with you lately.”

I tug at my neckline. “That’s kind of why I’m here.”

She lifts a finger. “Wait, actually, I rescind my commitment.”

My body deflates. “What?”

She sighs. “If this has anything to do with Murray, I can’t help you. I’ve never been in a long-term relationship like that. I have no advice.”

I smile. “I wouldn’t put you through that. It’s not about him.”

“Oh, heck yeah. I’m recommitted.” She leans forward, placing her elbows on the table.

I tap my finger against my chin. “Wait, actually, I rescind that response.”

Her eyes roll.

“It does have a little to do with him. But it’s mostly about a missing person.”

She tilts her head. “Are you trying to make Murray go missing?” she whispers.

I shake my head. “I’m trying to make sure I don’t go missing.”

Her smirk disappears. “What the hell does that mean?”

I take another deep breath and tell her everything.

Halfway through my story, she lifts her soda and dumps it on my head.

“Are you for real, Stetson?” she asks.

“Ugh,” I grunt, licking soda from my lips.

She stalks off, grabbing Bennie’s food bowl and rinsing it in the sink. “I have more important things to do than listen to this baloney.”

“I’m serious, Whitley,” I say, shuffling toward the counter in search of a paper towel as the soda drips from my nose. Bennie tries to lick it up, but his cone stops him.

“Murray was just ignoring you that day to prove a point. You weren’t freakin’ invisible. That’s the serious answer here.”

“I’m not done the story,” I snap, and yank a towel from the roll. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me right away. That’s why I needed time to get evidence.”

“What evidence could possibly support you saying you’ve been hanging out with a teenage boy who’s frozen in time? Are we in Forks, Washington, now?”

“The presence of a witch.”

She snorts. “Now we’re in Salem?” I grab her arm before she can walk away.

“Actually, yeah. Kind of. Pennsylvania had its own witch trial before the one in Salem, Massachusetts. Louise Gregor was accused, and her family owned the land where the Ardor Tree sits. Xander and I think she might’ve cursed it. And then we got cursed when we messed with the tree.”

“Who is Xander?”

“The boy only I can see.”