Witch's Wheel

by Abby L. Vandiver

  “How could she know you?” Lybbestre said. “You were twelve the last time she saw you.”

  “I’m her grandson,” he said defiantly, his words almost pouty. “She should know me.”

  “She did know you. Then.” Calayiah leaned in close to him. “And you know she did.”

  “And we don’t know her,” Lybbestre said answering the other part of his question.

  “Well, she recognized you,” Teagan said. “Called you the Frazier sisters and I didn’t even know your last name.”

  “I gave her recognition,” Lybbestre said. “When I touched her hand.”

  “Recognition?” Teagan said. “What? You put a spell on her?”

  “I told you,” Calayiah said she bunched up her shoulders and smiled broadly. “Magic!”

  “So you couldn’t think I’m not going to warn her,” Teagan said getting back to the matter at hand. “Save her life.”

  “You can’t save her,” Lybbestre said.

  “Promise you won’t try to tell her about what will happen to her,” Calayiah said.

  “I’ll do no such thing,” he said.

  “Promise,” Lybbestre said.

  “If you don’t, I’ll turn you into a toad,” Calayiah said and pushed him again.

  “What!” Teagan backed away.

  “She’s just kidding,” Lybbestre said. “She wouldn’t really.

  “Could she do that?” he asked.

  “She wouldn’t do it,” Lybbestre assured him.

  “Anyways,” he said, ducking around Calayiah. “I wasn’t going to tell her she was going to die. At least not in those words.”

  “You have to promise you won’t say it in any words,” Lybbestre said.

  “It would mess up everything,” Calayiah said.

  “Mess up everything? Like what?” Teagan asked. “She’s already dead. What else could go wrong?”

  “The aligning of the stars. The tides of the moon. Finding the girl of your dreams.”

  “I don’t dream about girls,” Teagan said.

  “Well you should,” Calayiah said. “It would be better than those nightmares you’ve been having.”

  “How do you-” Teagan stopped mid-sentence. He didn’t have time for any more of what they were saying. He needed to get back to his grandmother. “Fine,” he said. “I promise.”

  “We know that you’re a man of your word,” Lybbestre said. “Your grandmother told us you were very honest.”

  He doubted his grandmother had told them anything, even though being honest was a trait about himself he was proud of. But at that moment integrity didn’t matter one iota to him. He’d break a promise to those witches in a heartbeat.

  But they were right about one thing, his grandmother would think him a lunatic if he spoke to her about it, telling her she was going to die. So, in that split second he decided, if he couldn’t tell her, he’d would just show her. He’d be there and stop her from trying to put that bottle back on the shelf all by herself.

  Chapter Nine

  “The wine isn’t paired well.” It was Yvonne Giordano speaking. Teagan had come back out of the library and was looking for his grandmother. He looked down at his watch, if it was working correctly in the time he was in – whatever time that was – he had a little more than thirty-minutes before the accident. “I saw the menu,” she said as Teagan made himself one with the wall and the drapes, out of her view.

  “Shrimp Cocktail. Crab and Lobster stuffed mushrooms. Goat cheese, herb and lemon patties. Roasted chicken drumsticks with garlic and parsley.” She listed off the items then took a sip of her Champagne. “All seafood and chicken and,” she leaned in to her small group of intent listeners, “she’s serving red wine.”

  A collective gasp rose from the group, and Teagan had to cover his mouth to muffle his chuckle.

  “My grapes are superior to hers even when there has been a drought,” Yvonne Giordano said and then huffed. “Queen of the Vineyards, she is not.” She grabbed a canapé off a passing tray. “She’s serving a Chateau Margaux. Who serves red with chicken? I saw her have her man child, Teddy, bring it up. She must be having some kind of mental breakdown.”

  The vitriol laced in her voice surprised Teagan. Still, he knew it would have been a faux pas for his grandmother to serve red with that menu. Teagan also knew that it wasn’t what his grandmother was serving.

  He’d brought the Chateau Margaux from the cellar with his Uncle Teddy and put it in the parlor. It was for someone else. But, still it made him curious and he wanted to check out what was really being served. And he needed to find his grandmother keep up with her until it was time for him to help her. The kitchen, where everything was being prepared, was a good place to start his search for her.

  “Where iz the brooch?” Teagan heard Gustov ask. It made Teagan stop and listen. “I have not once seen you without it.”

  “I had it on earlier,” Olivia said. “You’re not very perceptive if you didn’t notice that.”

  “Oh, believe me. I know. But my question iz where iz it now?”

  “That klutz, Rose Avery, ran into me with a tray of hors d’oeuvres. “I had to take the jacket off. I put it in the room there,” she said and pointed to the kitchen office.

  “You cannot leave it there, no?” Gustov asked. “It’z not safe.”

  “No. Of course not,” she said. “I need to change,” Olivia gestured over to her arm. “I can’t go bared arm like this all night. I’ll get it.”

  “The room is not locked. You know dis? For party, no? It iz too much money for you to leave here or there.”

  “I know it is. I’m going to get it.” Olivia glanced at the counter. “Why is this bottle of wine sitting out?” Olivia said.

  “It came by mistake.”

  “That bottle is special to me. I never take it from its spot in the Antiquity Room where I keep the older bottles.” She went and picked it up. “Why would anyone even be in the room I keep it in? They shouldn’t have touched anything that wasn’t in the grab area.”

  “It vwas a mistake.”

  “I can’t tolerate mistakes. You know that,” Olivia said. “Who’s responsible?”

  “I take care of it,” Gustov said trying to take the bottle back from her.

  “No. I’ll do it,” Olivia said, holding it tight.

  “No. You just want to fire people.” He pushed his long, blonde hair away from his face. “You can’t fire every time someone makes mistake. I won’t do it.”

  “You don’t have to do it,” Olivia said. “I will.”

  “I refuse to tell you.” Gustov folded his arms across his chest in defiance.

  “You’ll tell me who it is,” Olivia said.

  “Why you do this to me?” Gustov said. “Each time I tell you I handle it. You say no, you do it?” He shook his head.

  “Do what?” Olivia let out a sigh. “I can’t do this with you now, Gustov. I have too many other things to do. Like return this bottle of wine to its rightful place.” She handed it to him. “And, change my clothes.” She put her hand on his arm and patted. “You need to remember everything I do isn’t about you.”

  “With you, nothing is about me,” Gustov said.

  “Please, Gustov. Don’t start that.” She looked at him. “I’ll take the bottle back after I change my clothes.” She tapped on it with her nail. “Take care of it until then.” She pointed to the small adjacent room. “I’ll just get my jacket from the office and go upstairs. Can you make sure things run smoothly? It won’t take me but a minute.”

  Teagan wanted to get to the front of the house so that he could watch his grandmother go upstairs to change, then he’d wait for her to come back down. He checked his watch and smiled. That would coincide exactly with the time of death as reported.

  He knew his grandmother would take the back hall to get to the staircase in the front of the house. He decided to go the other way. He wended his way through the guests, trying to be as furtive as possible to stay below the sisters�
�� radar. He didn’t want them trying to stop him.

  He was going to go down that cellar with her. Even though she didn’t know who he was, she’d already trusted him to go into a cellar once. That was all the “in” he needed. He’d put the 1914 Chateau Haut-Brion back where it belonged and the rack wouldn’t fall on her. Not tonight.

  Teagan didn’t know how long his grandmother would live after he saved her, but was happy at the thought that when he got back from 1995 she might still be around.

  If he got back . . .

  Chapter Ten

  “Hold on,” Teagan said catching the attention of the man he’d seen duck into the parlor as soon as he rounded the corner where he’d planned to wait for his grandmother. “What are you doing there?” He knew he and his Uncle Teddy had left that wine there for a courier. He could tell by the clothes this man was wearing, he didn’t fit the bill. Teagan, whether he was supposed to be there or not, wasn’t going to have someone steal it from right under their noses.

  “Excuse me,” Teagan spoke to the man’s back. “Are you the courier?”

  “Courier?” the man turned around.

  The man’s face startled Teagan. He stumbled back and fell against the wall. His breath caught in his throat and momentarily he was too stunned to speak.

  “Are you talking to me?” the man said.

  “Dad?” the name formed on his lips, the word barely audible.

  “Excuse me,” the man said. “First you thought I was a courier, now you’re calling me, ‘Dad?’ Who are you?”

  Oh, you guessed it. Teagan’s dad, Stuart Bales, who’d been dead for almost fifteen years was standing there in the flesh. Speaking to him no less. Teagan wondered who else that had left the earthly realm would be coming to the party next. But as you shall soon see, it was not for naught.

  Teagan let out a little chuckle. “Uhm . . . No . . . I thought . . .” Teagan was at a loss for words.

  “Who are you, I said.” Teagan’s father’s voice was deep and piercing. Just as Teagan remembered.

  “Yes. I know who you are.” Teagan let the words tumble out of his mouth quickly. “You’re Stuart Boles and I was just . . .” Teagan swung from his hip and looked behind him, then back at his father. “I was just looking out for your mother.”

  “My mother?”

  “Yes, she, uhm, had me carrying these . . .” Teagan pointed to the crates. “The uhm . . . The cases of wine – she had me carry them in here from her wine cellar. She told me a courier was picking them up. I didn’t want anyone taking something that didn’t belong to them.”

  His father’s shoulder’s relaxed, he turned his head and looked at him from the corner of his eyes. “My mother had you bring this up for her?”

  “Yes, I helped Unc . . . uhm, Teddy. Teagan Abrams. I helped him bring them up.”

  “You didn’t answer my question. Who are you?” the elder Bales asked.

  Teagan took in a breath and paused. How was he supposed to answer that?

  “Let’s try this,” Stuart Bales said, seeing the confusion on Teagan’s face. “Do you have a name?”

  “Yes,” Teagan said in a nervous chuckle. He didn’t know what he thought was funny, it struck him more as surreal. “It’s, uh, Frank. My name is Frank.”

  “Well Frank, my mother doesn’t let just anyone go into that cellar. Heck, I haven’t been down there in ten years.”

  “Yes, I know,” Teagan said.

  “You know?”

  “Yeah, I meant I knew about her not letting anyone down there.” He waved his hand at his father. “Not how long it’s been since you’d been down there.” His eyes got big. “I don’t know that . . . I mean, how would I know that, right? Uhm, she,” he continued his rambling, “she told me to help Teddy out and to be careful.”

  “So this is you being careful? Checking up on me?”

  “Yes. No. I didn’t know who you were. When I first saw you because your back was turned to me.” Teagan let out a breath.

  “Well, I’m glad you did. This is pretty important, that’s why my mother has me taking it out to the airport. You know who these two cases of wine are going to?”

  Teagan shook his head slowly. “I have no idea.”

  “The President,” Stuart Bales said and grinned.

  “The President of the United States?”

  “Yep. Impressive, huh?”

  “I didn’t know she knew the President.”

  Stuart laughed. “I don’t know why you’d think you would know, Frank, but I’m in the same boat as you. I didn’t know either. My mother is pretty special, she’s always surprising me with her talents and connections. I’m supposed to be on my way to a business meeting, but she called and told me she didn’t want to trust the wine to anyone else. I had to come.” He hung his head. “I’m not much help to her with anything else around here. Thank God for my son.”

  “Your son?”

  “Yes. His name’s Teagan. He would have been the one to go down and get that wine from the cellar for her. He’s her right hand man – well, boy. He’s only twelve.”

  “Where’s your son?” Teagan said, not knowing what possessed him to ask.

  “At a sleepover.” Stuart looked at Teagan. “You remind me of him,” he said

  “I do?” Teagan asked.

  “Yeah, you do. Same mannerisms. Same smile.”

  “Would you like me to help you carry those out to your car?” He pointed. “Since you are her courier.” Teagan smiled and walked toward the case of wine. “They can be murder on your back. You know, if you have trouble with your back. Not saying that you do.”

  Teagan hadn’t rambled that much since he was a teenager trying to explain to him why he was late, and why the front fender on his car had a dent in it. And here he was now still doing it, he wanted to be right – say the right things even to his dead father.

  Well, he wasn’t dead right at that moment.

  “That’ll be nice of you,” Stuart Bales said. “You grab one and I’ll get the other one.” Picking up one of the cases and heading out of the room, he looked back at Teagan and chuckled. “As luck – or bad luck – would have it, I do have a bad back.”

  “See,” Teagan said following him out the front door not bothering to pull it shut behind him. “It was a good thing I came checking up on you.” Teagan smiled.

  They had walked across the grass to Stuart’s Cadillac. Teagan remembered the car well. And the yard. He let his eyes gaze around the grounds. It showed his grandmother’s hand. Vibrant, colorful flowers filled the beds along the front of the house, and the perimeter of the drive. The grass was lush and green. Stuart sat the crate down on the ground and popped open the trunk to his car bringing Teagan back to the task at hand.

  “It was nice of you to help her out, Frank,” Stuart said, putting Teagan’s case in the car and reaching down to get the one he’d carried out. Securing both in the corner of the trunk, he slammed down the lid. “I’m glad you were at the party. Who did you come with?”

  Teagan opened his mouth to speak, then shut it. Another question he wasn’t sure how to answer. What was he going to say, “He came with the witches?”

  “I know Pastor Tim,” Teagan said instead.

  “Good guy,” his father said. “He takes real good care of my mother and the money she donates. He’s always there when she needs him. Takes almost as good care of her as my son.”

  Stuart’s words made Teagan remember why he’d been at the front of the house. He glanced back toward the house. “My grandmother,” he said, fear in his voice.

  “What did you say?” Stuart Bales asked.

  “I’ve got to go,” Teagan said hurriedly and grabbed his father and hugged him. “But it was really, really good to see you again.”

  “Again?” Stuart called after him. “Have we met before?”

  Chapter Eleven

  “That’s a bad cut you got there,” Teagan said, gently taking Teddy’s hand and turning it over.

  “Yes, I
know, old chap” he said. Uncle Teddy was just coming from the kitchen area and hadn’t made it to the half bath yet, out of breath, he had sweat beading across his forehead.

  “You better get that bandaged up,” Teagan said and started past him down the hallway.

  “Can you give me a hand?” Uncle Teddy said and turned around to watch Teagan as he walked away from him.

  “Help is on the way,” Teagan said turning around walking backwards. “And you lost a diamond out of that ring of yours.” He wiggled a finger at him.

  Teagan saw Uncle Teddy look down at his hand as he rounded the corner. He was as apologetic as he could be, but he didn’t have time to come to his aid. He wanted to get down to the cellar. To his grandmother. He hadn’t seen her come down the stairs when he came back in, but he knew the story well. Broken bottles. Cut hand. His grandmother coming past the half bath next to the staircase and helping his Uncle Teddy bandage his hand. He knew now, after hearing her conversation with Gustov, that she’d been in that hallway because she’d gone upstairs to change clothes and was on her way back to the kitchen to return that bottle to the wine cellar. And that’s when it would all happen.

  Teagan let out a groan.

  His Uncle Teddy just getting to the bathroom, hand still unbandage, meant she hadn’t come back downstairs yet, and when she did, she would stop and help him.

  That gave Teagan plenty of time.

  And this time, he was going to be there.

  The hallway led him to the kitchen, there he spotted the broken bottles of wine. He knew that Uncle Teddy had bumped a crate that had been precariously perched at the end of the counter and several had tumbled out. That’s how he had cut his hand. Now, a woman Teagan didn’t recognize was helping Gustov clean it up.

  Their endeavors were the distraction that Teagan needed. Keeping his eyes trained on them, he was able to get through the kitchen without notice and down the short hall that lead to the wine cellar. He smiled as he spotted the large oak door.