Page 26 of Solstice

“It’s the solstice,” she said.

His face cleared. “You went to our cove, didn’t you?”

She nodded.

“Oh, Dori there’s so much...” Then he stopped himself and gave his head a shake. “But it has to wait. The boys first. And if it being solstice means it’s a good night for calling down magic, put in for some, would you?”

He stopped outside the rec center, a very large, perfectly square, metal building the town used for bingo, auctions, town dances and anything else that came up. It was probably where they would hold their precious Holiday Craft Fair.

Right now, it held people. The entire police force—which consisted of about six cops—and half the town. Maybe more than half. Up close she could see dozens of vehicles parked around the building. They’d been out of her view before as the parking lot was dark and on the far side of the building. “What are all these people doing?”

“Praying, mostly,” he said. “That storm's gonna hit and hit hard, Dori.” He started to get out of the car.

She stopped him with a hand to his arm. “Jason…why did you come for me?”

“The first thing I thought of was to call you.” He searched her eyes. “Hell, the first thing I think of when I wake up is you, these days. And the last thing before I go to sleep.”

“Jason—”

“Don’t,” he said. “Let’s not do this. Not now, Dori. I need you to help me with this. Help me find the boys.”

She nodded, opened her door and got out of the car. They went into the rec center together, and Dori took in the scene with a swift glance. Women huddled with their husbands, people weeping, people pacing. Cops and others hunched over a table spread with maps and charts. One was talking on a cell phone; another manned a portable radio.

“We have the state police out in boats,” Jason explained. “It’s too windy for helicopters.” He glanced at his officer on the radio. “Anything yet?”

“No sign.”

A huge gust hit, and suddenly, the room full of people was pitched into total darkness. One woman cried out.

“Stay calm,” Jason called. “If anyone brought a light, get it out now.”

Dori thought of the candle in her bag. If ever she had needed its magic, she thought, she needed it now. She took it out, flicked her lighter, touched it to the wick.

Its golden light gleamed.

“You!” a woman said.

One by one other lights came on. Someone lit a gas lantern, which spilled a lot more light on things. Someone else offered to go get a generator.

But Dori was focused on Alice Redmond making a beeline for her. She was about to roll her eyes and tell the woman that this was not the time, but then she noticed the redness of the woman’s cheeks and the hollow emptiness in her eyes. She’d seen a look like that before.

“Oh, my Goddess,” Dori whispered. “One of the missing boys is yours, isn’t he?”

The woman stopped moving when she couldn’t get any closer without mowing Dori down. She stood nearly nose to nose with her, only the dancing light of the candle in between them. “Kevin. He’s seventeen.”

“I’m so sorry, Alice. I mean it.”

“Do you?”

Others were starting to turn toward the two of them now. More lanterns were lit, more candles, and several flashlights. Alice’s voice had been agitated and overly loud.

“Of course I mean it,” Dori said. “I wouldn’t wish this on anyone.”

“Then help him.”

Dori blinked. The room went dead silent.

A man who was probably her husband laid a hand on her arm. “You’ve done it before,” she went on, not even acknowledging her husband’s touch. “If you can really do what they say you can do, then do it. Help me find my son. I just want him back. Please...”

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