Page 75 of Haunting the Deep

Alice considers it. “Spirits were never Redd’s thing. She was a plant-and-potion type of witch. Buuut you’re right—she obviously knows something about thisandwas trying to warn us. I think it’s worth a shot.”

We make our way into the foyer just as the front door opens. My dad and Mrs. Meriwether come through with bags of groceries.

“You girls going somewhere?” my dad asks.

“Just into town for some fresh air,” Susannah says.

“You all deserve it. You’ve been dedicated to your homework all weekend,” Mrs. Meriwether says, nodding approvingly. “If you want to drop by Sugar Spells, write Georgia a note telling her I said you can have anything you want as a reward.”

“Thanks,” I say. “We might just do that.”

The door closes behind us, and we make our way to Mary’s Jeep.

“I’m not entirely sure I can handle the cuteness level in your house,” Alice says as we get in.

“I’ll try to tone it down for you. Cuteness just comes to me so naturally,” I say, and Mary giggles.

Alice turns on the engine, and we head toward town.

“Question, why do you always drive Mary’s Jeep?” I ask Alice.

“I actually don’t like to drive,” Mary says from the front seat. “Hate it.”

“I wish I had my own car,” Susannah says. “But with my little sister’s medical expenses these past few years, it just hasn’t been possible.”

Susannah told us in the fall that her sister’s cancer had come back unexpectedly. I always assumed it was Vivian’s fault. Guilt grips my stomach. Even now, people are still feeling the ramifications of what she did.

“And even though I do have a car,” Alice says, “it’s a sports car—”

“You and a sports car are an evil combination,” Mary says.

Alice rolls her eyes. “My mother got it for me. It’s a two-seater, which obviously is impossible because the three of us—scratch that, thefourof us—are always together.”

Alice jerks to a stop and we all get out. The street that Redd’s store is on is bursting with Sunday shoppers. Families are eating at outdoor cafés, and visitors are taking guided tours. A few of the locals watch us, but most of the tourists don’t give us a second look. To them our black clothes are just in the spirit of the town.

Susannah stops two stores away from Redd’s. “Those are pretty,” she says, pointing at black handcrafted candles in a window. We all stop and pretend to be interested.

Alice nudges Mary, and she walks off. We comment on the window display for another thirty seconds, blending in with all the other weekend shoppers. In my peripheral vision I see Mary pull a small vial out of her pocket, drop some liquid in Redd’s keyhole, and push the door open.

Alice scans the street like a sharpshooter. “Now.”

We walk toward Mary, slip inside the door, and close it behind us. The room’s as disorienting and dark as it was before.

“Now what, Sam?” Mary whispers.

“Last time, I found a wall and followed it to a hallway,” I whisper back.

“Last time, you were invited,” says a voice, and light bursts through a parted curtain.

Redd looks particularly intimidating backlit. The girls tense next to me.

“I’m sorry. We—” I say.

“I don’t want to hear ‘sorry.’ You’re not sorry.”

We all stand silently. Even ballsy Alice doesn’t attempt to talk our way in.

Redd scowls disapprovingly. “Well, are you coming or not?”