Scott couldn’t see the spirits anymore, but little by little, the room lost its chill, and he sensed a change in the energy.
After a few minutes, Becca turned and glared at Santoro. “They have moved on. Their stories will be known and made public. Everyone will know what you’ve done.”
“I can’t enter that testimony into the official record,” the sheriff said, “but if you can substantiate it with living witnesses, I’ll be glad to pile it on so this bastard spends the rest of his days paying for his crimes.”
Armel headed out, taking Santoro and Wilmot to his police cruiser. Scott sat down on the edge of the table, shaking. Justin wrapped his arms around him.
“It’s over,” Justin said. “Santoro’s toast, and so is Wilmot. They can’t hurt you anymore.”
“I just put a note on the door saying that the holiday collection has been postponed,” Amy said. “Didn’t figure you’d be in the mood to hang around.”
“Thank you,” Scott said in a ragged voice, looking from Amy to Becca to Justin. “You saved my life.”
“That’s what friends do.” Amy murmured something under her breath. “The wards are dispelled, but you’re welcome to keep the amulets. A little extra protection never hurts.” She smiled.
“You’ve done your civic duty,” Becca told them. “Go home and collapse. You’ve earned it.”
Amy and Becca stayed behind to undo the other spells she had wrapped around the warehouse and promised to lock up. Justin guided Scott back to the car, casting worried glances at his silent passenger.
“How are you holding up?” Justin asked.
“Coping,” Scott said. “Rattled. I can feel the adrenaline crashing. I knew you were all there to back me up, and that the magic and the ghosts were supposed to protect me, but I was still afraid until the very end that somehow Santoro would have a trick up his sleeve and manage to kill me.”
Justin took his hand. “We weren’t going to let that happen.”
“I guess I’m going to have to testify,” Scott said. “Not looking forward to that.”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Justin said. “I imagine you’ll have to give a statement, but with the video from today and the dirt we’ve dug up on Santoro, as well as what Brent found, I’d be surprised if it didn’t plead out, if Santoro even makes it to trial.”
“I hope so,” Scott replied. “I just want my life back. I want to move here and settle in with you and go back to work and not have to worry about getting shot.”
“We’ll make that happen,” Justin promised. “But give yourself time to recover. I’m with you all the way.” He kissed Scott. “We have all the time in the world now.”
12
SCOTT
“The festival is amazing.”Scott and Justin walked side by side through the crowded grounds. Banners fluttered in the sun, music from the live event stage put a spring in everyone’s step, and the scent of popcorn, grilled sausage, and hot caramel apples wafted in the breeze.
All. That. Food. It smells so good,his coyote whined.Feed us!
We’ll eat dinner. But this stuff goes hard on the stomach,Scott warned his coyote.
Whatever happened to getting in touch with your inner coyote?his other half argued.
It doesn’t include food. Wild coyotes eat mice and carrion,Scott retorted and got an annoyed growl in response.
“Kudos to Valerie and the whole committee, you included.” Justin bumped shoulders with Scott.
“One of those ‘it takes a village’ things, but it finally all came together.” Scott loved the warmth of the sun on his face and the feel of the breeze in his hair. Once they had finally put the Mob threat to bed, he felt a whole new level of gratitude for simple pleasures and the knowledge that no one was stalking him.
This was their first real outing since the showdown with Santoro and his attempt on Scott’s life. Scott still felt exposed out in public and knew he was scanning the crowd like a prey animal.
“Breathe.” Justin squeezed his hand. “You’re okay.”
Scott took a deep breath and let it out. “I know. I don’t like reacting like this. But it’s hard.”
We would feel better if we got to bite a particular someone,his coyote suggested helpfully.
