Page 97 of Wicked Witch of the Wolf

Fennel and Cecil met me on the porch. Neither looked happy, although, to be fair, Cecil almost never did.

The porch radio was still on, and “Billy Don’t Be A Hero” by Bo Donaldson and The Heywoods was halfway over. Frankly, I would’ve preferred a repeat of The Chairmen of the Board’s “Give Me Just A Little More Time.”

Cecil handed me the package I’d asked him to put together.

“Thanks.” I forced a smile. “You gotta trust me, okay? It’s important I do this by myself. I’ll alert Ida if I run into trouble and need backup.”

My partners looked at each other then nodded.

“Be good while I’m gone. Take care of your new kitty, Cecil.”

The gnome shook his head like a windshield wiper in a rainstorm and held up his tiny hands.

Fennel nodded.

“Yeah, we both know you’re lying. She’s definitely yours.” I pointed to the garden room. “Why is your kitty the only one not being kept in there?”

Cecil shrugged. Fennel meowed.

Although I didn’t always understand them, I did this time. “Adopted?Allof them?”

“Yep.” Ida stepped out onto the porch. “Cecil’s cat is the only one left. The Brittons adopted two, Alpha Lydia took another two, and—you’ll never believe this—Maria took the other one.”

“Señora Cervantes took a cat?”

“The real fluffy one. Maria says she’s a ragdollor something like that. I don’t know cat breeds. Already named her. Petra, or something like that.”

I had to admit, the news that the grumpy señora had adopted one of the kittens made the world feel a little less bleak for a moment.

“That cat’ll be a holy terror,” Ida said. “Spoiled rotten.”

“As she should be.” I looked at their worried faces—even Cecil seemed concerned. The tip of his hat drooped. “I’ll be okay, guys.”

“Of course you will.” Ida sat on the swing. “We just want you to know we’ve got your back if you need us. Meredith, too. You know, if you need some scary screaming.”

“Thanks.”

On my way out of the park, I knelt at Red’s grave. The tiniest hint of a spiny seedling poked its green head from the soil. It was what I’d spent three days underground making happen. I shouldn’t have been surprised.

But I was.

“Did you see this?” I asked the Cecil-shaped blur. My eyes had filled with tears until I could barely make him out.

His hat bobbed.

“Keep watch over him, okay? Make sure he has everything he needs to grow strong and healthy.”

Another bob and a harrumph. Cecil didn’t need to be told to protect the living things here. It was in his blood to do so.

I rose, bringing a handful of soil with me. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Live and Let Die”by Paul McCartney and Wings blared through the Mini’s speakers as I bulleted down the back roads, dodging a harvester and passing a sluggish hay truck and an ancient Cadillac El Dorado going twenty miles per hour.

“Don’t start,” I said to the DJ and snapped the radio off.

I parked the Mini by the front office and didn’t bother going in. Iwas pretty sure I knew where I was going to find him, and it wasn’t going to be behind a desk filling out paperwork or answering phones.

Besides, it was well after eight p.m. The office was closed.

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