T*Witches: Double Jeopardy by H.B. Gilmour, Randi Reisfeld

through his thick dark curls. “And not leave us a note.” He stared hard at the twins. “Do you have any ideas?” he asked. “A premonition, a hunch, anything?”
    The images returned to Cam, the ones Thantos had created so vividly. As Dave and Emily went inside with the police, Cam envisioned the Dumpster again. It was parked behind a store.
The Cand … on
was written on the iron box in fading letters.
The Cand … on
—
    Got it!
Alex hollered.
The Cand-le Connecti-on
, she told her sister.
    “Yes!” Cam exclaimed. The Candle Connection was a franchise peddling every kind, size, fragrance, and color candle under the sun — towering pillars, floating flowers, beeswax, dripless, round, square, triangular, animal-and vegetable-shaped candles, tapers, and tea lights, plus lacy sachets, scented oils, bath beads. They hawked candles the way the Colonel sold chicken. There were at least eight of them in a ten-mile radius of Marble Bay. One of them was right downtown.
    “But with all that’s going on, can we leave now?” Cam asked her sister.
    “Let’s see. Today is Sunday. No trash pickup.” Alexpretended to weigh the options. “Tomorrow’s Monday. Guess we can wait till tomorrow when the garbage truck shows up —”
    Remembering that iron-jawed assassin was all Cam needed. “You made your point,” she said. “I vote for now.”
    They were heading for the sidewalk where they’d left their bikes when two things happened at once to change their plans.
    One: Jason Weissman pulled up. Tall, dark, and crazy for Cam, the hottie who’d once worked at PITS had been cruising by and seen the small crowd breaking up and the police car in the Barneses’ driveway. In response to his concerned “What’s up?” Cam wondered if he could give them a lift to The Candle Connection.
    Alex rolled her eyes, knowing the boy would give them a lift to the moon if Cam offered him the honor.
    Two: As they wheeled their no-longer-needed bikes back to the garage, Alex’s extraordinary hearing and sense of smell went into overdrive. At first she thought it was the quilt she’d flung over her shoulder that was giving off the distinctive sharp scents. Then she realized that someone was hiding in the shrubbery that separated the Barneses’ property from their neighbor’s, someone who smelled of jasmine and fear.
    “Whoops, we’d better tell my parents we’re taking off,” Cam said. “They’re freaked enough.”
    “No probs. You go with Jason. I’ll hang around and let them know you’re okay.”
    “And?” Cam asked suspiciously.
    “Busted,” Alex conceded. “Before you take off, could you kind of subtly focus your outstanding orbs into the bushes and tell me who’s crouching there?”
    Cam spun around.
    “Oh, that was casual,” Alex grumbled.
    Her twin scarcely heard her.
It’s a girl
. Cam sent a mind message.
The one who came to school all beat up
—
    “Kenya Carson?” Alex whispered. “The kid your crew was talking about at PITS? She’s supposed to be in Dylan’s class, right?”
    What is she doing here?
Cam marveled.
Why is she hiding?

CHAPTER TEN
    HIDE-AND-SEEK
    The girl who stood in front of Alex seemed nothing like the spunky snowboarder chick who occasionally freestyled with Dylan and his bud Robbie Meeks.
    Chewing on her nails, brown eyes darting frantically, Kenya wasn’t as bruised and jumpy as she’d been a week ago. Which was when she’d showed up at school telling one person that a bad day on the slopes was responsible for her black eye, scraped knee, and chipped tooth, and swearing to another that she’d tripped on the stairs.
    She was having the same get-it-straight trouble today.
    She said she’d come by to see Dylan and that findinga police car in the driveway had totally freaked her. She didn’t know why she’d ducked behind the bushes, she just did.
    Fair enough. Maybe she was afraid the cops would take one look at her and arrest her parents, Alex thought, remembering Kristen’s