14
We drove directly to Catherine Hughes’s house. It was a little blue townhouse in a residential neighborhood on the outskirts of Portland. It was late at night, but I had hoped to see some lights on inside the house. Then it would feel okay to knock on her door. But there were no lights on anywhere.
I hopped out the car and stared at the house, an uneasy feeling growing in my chest. Fawn had warned me about supernatural killers around Portland. Now she was dead. What if they had gotten to Catherine too?
I started toward the house, intent on knocking the door down if the witch didn’t open it. If she was sleeping and yelled at me, I wouldn’t mind. At least that would mean she was alive.
“Can I help you?” someone asked from my right.
I faced a chubby woman with a thick floral robe and
