by Raven Snow
“That may be so,” Rowen conceded. “Either way, you’re probably better off looking for a new job as soon as you can.”
***
Rowen showed up to the Lainswich Inquirer with the camera she had used to snap the photos. She hadn’t been able to send those over while out and about. The high-end camera they used didn’t allow for that. Eric left her side to go next door and take care of some paperwork while Rowen went to rejoin her cousins. She was pleasantly surprised to find them all hard at work. “I think this is a first,” she remarked, scanning the room.
Margo, Peony, and Willow were all there, fingers flying over keyboards or discussing layouts with one another. Margo was the first to look up, thin blond hair frizzed and incessantly shifting her weight from one foot to the other. If Rowen had to guess, she would say that her cousin had had one too many cups of coffee.
“It’s about time,” she said, words so fast it confirmed that, yes, she had indeed finished, at least, one pot of coffee.
“I was working,” Rowen assured her. She waved the camera. “I have two jobs right now, in case you forgot.”
“I didn’t.” Margo crossed the room in several quick, long-legged strides. “I just got impatient waiting.” She started the camera up and began scrolling through the pictures. “Peony, these need to go on the layout for that fluff piece with the mayor.”
Rowen felt an unpleasant twinge at the mention of the mayor. It seemed wrong to run a Valentine’s Day story on him now that she knew his whole relationship with his wife was a sham. Rowen didn’t really have an issue with open marriages if both parties agreed to it. It was more the idea of Vernon preying on his employees that grossed her out. Emily must know. She must have some kind of inkling. Didn’t it bother her too? Rowen’s stomach rolled at the memory of having lunch with them earlier.
“Hey, Rowen.”
Rowen looked up when she heard a man’s voice. Her first thought was that Rory had finally returned, but it wasn’t him. It was someone very much alive who was trying to get her attention.
“Do you have a minute?” asked Jasper. He was standing at the copy machine. It seemed Margo had put him to work. Knowing that he didn’t have a day job outside of learning spells from his parents, he probably had the free time to lend a hand at times like these.
Rowen glanced at Margo, sure she would object. Margo seemed absorbed in scrolling through the pictures. Coffee allowed her to focus. Too much coffee made her hyper-focus. She probably wouldn’t notice if they slipped away for a minute or two. Rowen’s curiosity was piqued.
“Sure.” She followed Jasper into Rose’s office. With Rose at home looking after Ben, it was empty. “What’s up?” asked Rowen, tossing herself into Rose’s ergonomic rolling chair.
“I talked to my parents about that curse business,” said Jasper. He glanced at the two chairs in front of Rose’s desk but didn’t sit down in them. He clearly felt a bit uncomfortable being in an office that wasn’t his own, even if he had been the one to lead her in here.
“You did?” Rowen leaned forward, resting her arms on the desk. Jasper had her undivided attention now. “What did they say?”
“They said they had put an end to the curse decades ago.”
“So it was them who put the curse on us.”
Jasper quickly shook his head. “I don’t think so. I don’t know where the curse originated.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I don’t know how far back the curse goes. My parents have no idea. All they know is that they helped your grandmother try and reverse it.”
“So, wait. Which is it? They put an end to the curse, or they tried to?”
Jasper spread his hands helplessly. “I can’t really say. They seem to think they put an end to the curse, but I know you feel recent events prove otherwise.”
“I don’t just feel that way.” Rowen didn’t think she needed to point that out. Obviously, things hadn’t been going well for the men of the Greensmith family as of late.
“Sorry, that’s all I could find out.” Jasper hesitated as if carefully considering whether or not to say something more. “They… They did suggest that, perhaps, it’s just a coincidence or self-fulfilling prophecy.”
“So you’re saying it’s all in our heads?”
“Maybe? More or less?”
Rowen considered that. Initially, it felt like a bit of an insult; the words made her bristle. The more she thought about it, the more she could see the potential truth there. Then again, the Stonewalls weren’t the sort of family to believe they ever did any wrong whatsoever. Even if they hadn’t managed to break the curse, they might still take credit for fixing things. “Thanks,” said Rowen. She meant it, too. Jasper had tried, and that counted for something. She met his gaze with her own, switching to a more personal line of questioning. “How do you feel about seeing Margo?”
“What do you mean?” Jasper’s brow furrowed, like he thought she was trying to trick him somehow.
“The curse,” Rowen reminded him. “How do you feel about dating Margo in relation to a potential curse? What if something happened to you because of it?”
Jasper shook his head. “That’s one reason to trust my parents when they say they ended this thing, I guess. They wouldn’t needlessly put me in danger.” There was a flicker of doubt there, something when his eyes darted to one side. Now that Rowen had mentioned it—or maybe even before—it was clear that he had his doubts. “I don’t think there’s still a curse, but… even then, it comes out to weighing the positives against the negatives, I suppose.”
“And?”
“And, I guess I would rather keep on seeing Margo. I like her. I like her a lot.”
Rowen smiled to hear that. Part of her wanted to warn Jasper about Margo. He’d been the man she had cheated on her last boyfriend with. He almost certainly knew that dating her came with risks outside of a gruesome death.
“Thanks for asking,” he said instead. She was about to stand when the door to the office flew open. Margo was standing in it.
“What are you doing in here?” she demanded, looking from Rowen to Jasper. “There’s still a lot of work to do. Go, go, go!”
“Yes, Ma’am,” said Rowen, stepping away from the desk. It was hard to argue with Margo when she actually deigned to get work finished. Even so, Rowen was going to remove the coffee maker from the kitchen area the next chance she got.
Chapter Twelve
Rowen finished up at the Inquirer. It was dark outside by the time everyone decided they had done enough for the day. Layouts had been decided upon, stories had been published and printed out in physical copies. Rowen wanted to go home, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to relax. There was still too much to do. She settled on going to the Greensmith house instead. It only seemed right that she checked on her mother one more time, even if she really didn’t want to.
Eric came along. Rowen knew he didn’t much want to come either. She could sense it. He didn’t complain out loud, at least. He likely thought it was a good idea that she was going. He had been pushing her to go before now.
There were fewer cars in front of the house than usual, though there was a pickup truck that Rowen didn’t immediately recognize as well. She headed inside, Eric on her heels.
The smell of home cooking assaulted Rowen when she let herself in through the front door. She smelled savory casserole smells and sweet apple spice. Either neighbors had brought cooking over for the bereaved or Lydia was making comfort food. Rowen was willing to bet it was the latter. Sure enough, Lydia poked her head out of the dining room and into the hallway and Rowen shut the door behind her.
“Oh, good. I was hoping you would come back.” Lydia went to Rowen and pulled her into a hug. “I’m sorry I was so short with you earlier, Sweetie.” She took a step back. She was wearing her tacky black and orange apron that read, “Life’s a Witch.” There was flour all over the front of it. Rowen looked down to find that most of that flour had transferre
d onto her blouse. Fantastic. She didn’t have a chance to say anything before Lydia had pulled Eric into a hug as well. “Tiffany is out back with company. Are the two of you staying for dinner? It’s just about finished. I’ve been cooking all afternoon.”
Rowen looked at her husband. He gave an imperceptible shrug, like he wasn’t going to answer this one for her. Rowen wanted a way out, but there wasn’t a polite one.
“Sure,” she said, putting on a smile. She knew that was what Lydia wanted to hear. She started down the hall, toward the back door.
“Don’t disturb her just now,” Lydia said quickly. “She’s with company. Do you think the two of you could help me with dinner instead?”
“Company?” Rowen repeated.
Lydia nodded. “Roland came to pay his respects.”
That explained the pickup truck that was parked outside. Rowen hesitated, looking from Lydia and down the hall. She thought back to what Jeff had said.
“I think I should go say hi, at least.” Rowen gave Eric a pat on the shoulder, prompting him to offer Lydia a hand.
“I can help until she gets back,” Eric said without missing a beat.
“I won’t be long,” Rowen swore.
Lydia nodded, though the way one of her eyebrows raised made it look as if she were suspicious. “All right,” she said, slipping back into the dining room and walking through to the kitchen. Eric followed. Rowen watched them go before turning to the back door. She made her way to the door slowly, peeking out before she disturbed them by opening the door.
Tiffany and Roland were sitting side by side on the back steps. It was impossible to hear what they were saying. Tiffany had her head hung low, and Roland had a hand upon her shoulder. Rowen opened the door. Both Tiffany and Roland jumped. Together, they looked back.
“Rowen.” Tiffany raised her eyebrows as if surprised to see her daughter standing in front of her. “You came back.”
“Of course I came back.” Rowen might be a little distant from her mother, but she thought the woman, at the very least, knew her better than that. She wasn’t going to completely avoid her at a time like this… even if she might want to. She turned a smile to Roland that she hoped looked genuine. “Hey, Roland.”
“Hey,” Roland said back, his face moving through several reactions, like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with his face at a time like this.
“Haven’t seen you around here in a while,” Rowen pointed out, still making a point to smile.
Roland nodded. “Yeah, well, I heard what happened. I just… I wanted to come out here and…” He trailed off like he didn’t know precisely what he had wanted to accomplish here. “I just wanted to come and pay my respects, even if I never knew the guy.”
Tiffany nodded and gave Roland a pained smile. “And that’s very kind of you,” she said, her eyes glistening with tears. She wiped them away with the back of her hand.
“Do you mind if I borrow Roland for just a second?” Rowen asked, not sure of how else to approach this. “I came for dinner and didn’t realize Roland was here. Since he is… I, ah… I have some questions I meant to ask him about the Andrea case.”
“Andrea?” Tiffany repeated, like she couldn’t place the name.
“The girl that was killed,” Rowen said, carefully. “One of the last places she was seen was in Roland’s trailer park. I asked him to keep an eye out for me. I just… I need to talk to him privately for a minute.”
Roland nodded and stood. “I’ll be right back,” he assured Tiffany, giving her shoulder a final squeeze before following Rowen out to a far corner of the back lawn.
Rowen stood near the tree line, her arms folded against the slight chill on the night time breeze. Roland came to stand across from her. “I really only came to offer my sympathies,” said Roland. “I’m not… you know…”
He wasn’t trying to muscle in and take Rory’s place so soon. Rowen knew what he was getting at without him having to say it. She shook her head. That wasn’t what was on her mind. “Were you at Jeff’s the night Rory was killed?”
Roland’s eyebrows gradually rose. This was an accusation worse than suggesting he was trying to take Rory’s place. “I didn’t kill Rory,” he hissed, glancing in Tiffany’s direction right after, like he was terrified that she might overhear and think the wrong thing.
“Were you there or not?” Rowen pressed.
Roland stared at Rowen for a few more seconds, eyes still wide. He sank a little lower suddenly, like a weight had just pressed down upon his shoulders. “Yeah,” he admitted. “Yeah, I was.”
“Why didn’t you say something before now?”
“Because I didn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea.”
Rowen supposed that was as good a reason as any. He didn’t want to look guilty. “Why did you lie, though?”
“I didn’t lie,” Roland said quickly. “I wouldn’t keep anything from you if I thought it might help. I didn’t see that girl there, and I didn’t see Rory. I just go there sometimes to take my mind off things. I’ve gone since your mom introduced me to the place. I don’t really pay attention to other people, especially not teenagers. I guess I might have seen Andrea, but I don’t remember her if I did. The same goes for Rory. I didn’t really know the guy that well. I knew of him, but… I mean, if I saw him, I don’t remember it. Honest.”
Rowen believed him. She liked to think that she knew Roland rather well. He didn’t strike her as a murderer. Of course, she had met a lot of people who didn’t strike her as murderers who turned out to be murderers. She wasn’t going to completely let him off the hook until all this was over. “Okay, well, did you see this guy?” Rowen pulled up a picture on her phone. She showed it to Roland.
Roland snorted when he saw the picture. “That’s the mayor,” he said, like maybe she had shown him the wrong picture by accident.
“Yeah, I know. Did you see the mayor there?”
Roland looked from the picture to Rowen, brow furrowed, incredulous. “I think I would remember if I had seen the mayor at a place like that.”
Rowen supposed that was true. It was dumb to think someone like the mayor could go to a place like that unnoticed, even if he wasn’t popular with young adults and the like. She nodded, backing off. “Tell me if you find anything else out from now on, all right?”
Roland agreed that he would. Rowen headed back inside after that. She helped with dinner. At that point, all that was left was to set the table. She did so in silence, her thoughts on the mystery before her. It was a difficult thing not to think about. It was even more difficult not to think about when they were all sitting down for dinner. Tiffany didn’t have much of an appetite. That kind of put everyone else off from eating as well. Rowen couldn’t decide if all of this was better or worse than her mother dating yet another murderer. Either way, it was certainly a change of pace.
Chapter Thirteen
The next morning, Rowen got a call from Ben. She was surprised to see his name on her phone. He wasn’t officially back at work yet. He couldn’t issue orders to her. He wasn’t one to make social calls either. If he had something of a personal nature to tell her, it was typically passed down through Rose. Rowen paused her morning routine. She put her buttered toast down on its plate and answered. “Hello?”
“Hey.” Ben was speaking quietly. “Can you do me a favor?”
Rowen found herself instantly suspicious. “Why are you whispering?”
“Because Rose is in the shower, and I don’t want her to hear. Can you do me a favor or not?”
“It depends on what the favor is,” Rowen said, carefully. “If it’s something Rose can’t find out about, it’s probably a favor you need to seriously rethink.”
“It’s not like that.” Ben got a little louder, like he was annoyed. He quickly lowered his voice again. “It’s her gift for Valentine’s Day. I need someone to pick it up. Obviously, I can’t do it, and it’s not like I can send her to go and get it. Kind of ruins the whole thing, doesn’t it?”<
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“Aww.” Rowen made a shrill sound of approval that made both her husband and their dog jump. “Of course I’ll help you out. What do you need me to pick up?”
“It’s at the jewelers’ downtown. It’s already paid for and everything. Just pick it up, park a block away, and call me when you’re close. I’ll get Rose out of the room long enough for you to sneak in through the window and get it to me.”
“This is getting really elaborate.” Rowen tried to picture the whole heist in her head. She wasn’t very good at sneaking, but this was for love. More than that, it was for Rose. After all that had happened, the week needed some positive to balance out all the bad. “All right,” she said, firmly. “I’ll do it.”
“Thanks. I owe you.”
“No you don’t,” Rowen assured him. “You married my cousin. You’re family now. You’re a Greensmith. We look out for each other.”
***
Eric came along. He wasn’t there to help. He was there to watch and laugh. “This is going to go horribly.”
“I can drop you off at work, you know.”
“No, no. I want to see this.”
Rowen rolled her eyes at him but didn’t argue. She was always happy to have him along. Granted, she did draw some perverse pleasure when Ben’s gift to Rose cowed him. It appeared that he had commissioned a necklace. It was a pretty thing on a silver chain, a little ruby rose ringed in emerald leaves. Rowen had never really thought of Ben as a romantic. She had dated the guy in high school, so she felt like she had a good gauge on how romantic he could be. Apparently, she had underestimated him.
“And what did you get me for Valentine’s Day?” Rowen teased Eric as she walked from the store, necklace box and receipt in hand. She didn’t really care what he had gotten her, if anything. It was one of those holidays that had been easy for Rowen to forget before they had started their paper.