by Bobbi Holmes
Holding the offered cup in one hand, Danielle used her other hand to give the back of her braid a short tug while saying, “Not exactly. It’s barely long enough to braid properly.”
“Are you going to let it grow out again?”
Danielle shrugged. “I don’t know.” She walked with her coffee to the table and sat down. Walt joined her.
“I’m not pregnant,” Danielle blurted.
Walt grinned. “I didn’t think you were.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do. I just want you to know, I am more than willing to keep trying—again and again.” Walt’s grin broadened.
Danielle rolled her eyes and said, “So nice to know you’re willing to sacrifice so much to start a family.”
Walt chuckled.
Danielle took a sip of her coffee and then said, “I just realized, when I get pregnant, I have to give up coffee. Lily gave it up.”
“Now that is genuine sacrifice.”
“Let’s walk to town today. That new candy store is having its grand opening this week, and I heard they’re giving away free samples.”
“Being not pregnant and all, you sure you’re up to walking to town?” Walt asked.
“Didn’t you hear what I said? Chocolate, Walt. They are giving away chocolate.”
Danielle decided Walt was right; she wasn’t up to walking. When they left for town a few hours later, they drove. Walt took the Packard instead of Danielle’s car. When Walt pulled onto the main street, he saw there were no empty spots by the candy shop, so he had to park farther down the street, near Lucy’s Diner. He had just parked the Packard when Heather pulled her car into the space next to them.
“You coming to get free chocolate too?” Danielle greeted Heather as they each got out of their vehicles.
Dressed for work, Heather wore a long dark skirt, sweater blouse, and black boots, with her ebony-colored hair straight and pulled into a low ponytail and straight-cut bangs covering her eyebrows. Instead of red lipstick, she wore dark purple, with matching nail polish. “No. I’m picking up burgers at Lucy’s and taking them back to the office,” Heather explained as she shut her car door.
Instead of making their way to their respective destinations, the three gathered between the two vehicles for a brief chat.
“Hey, guess who I saw parked across the street from our houses yesterday,” Heather said.
“Who?” Danielle asked.
“Kathy and Brad Stewart. I was wondering if maybe we should tell the chief about it. Isn’t that stalking or something?” Heather said.
“What were they doing?” Walt asked.
“Just sitting there is all I saw. I had to run home to pick up something, and when I turned down Beach Drive, I noticed a truck parked across the street. I didn’t think too much about it, but as the truck pulled away, I saw who it was.”
“Are you sure it was them?” Danielle asked.
“Yes. I recognized the truck. Saw Brad in it before. And then I saw both of them as they drove by. If a person is out on bail, is that legal for them to park across the street from the person they attacked?”
“They’re no longer out on bail,” Danielle explained. She then repeated what Brian had told them the previous day.
“That sucks,” Heather grumbled.
“I agree. But there’s nothing we can do about it. Yet, I’ll tell the chief what you saw,” Danielle said.
Heather glanced at her watch and then looked back up to Walt and Danielle. “I’d better pick up those burgers. If I take too long, you know how Chris gets.”
They all laughed, knowing Chris rarely got angry.
Danielle nodded up the street. “We’re going to check out the new candy store.”
Heather looked to Walt and said, “Considering your sweet tooth, is that such a good idea?”
“I’m only here because Danielle needs chocolate,” Walt insisted.
“Yeah, right.” Heather snorted. She glanced around and added, “Several new stores have opened up. I need to stop in at Pagan Oils. Curious to see what they have.”
“I read in the paper it’s owned by genuine witches,” Walt said with a mischievous grin.
“Yeah, I read that article too in last Sunday’s paper. I thought at first they were Wicca, but whoever they interviewed claimed they are from a long line of witches, not Wicca.”
“I thought being Wicca was the same thing as being a witch,” Danielle said.
“Danielle didn’t read the article,” Walt told Heather.
“Wicca’s a religion based on witchcraft. It wasn’t even a thing during Walt’s first life,” Heather explained. “A guy in the fifties started it. I think he got the idea from some woman who was messing around in ancient pagan rituals. The women who own Pagan Oils insist in the article they can trace their witchcraft lineage over four hundred years.”
“Good marketing gimmick,” Danielle said.
Heather laughed. “Yeah, I figured you’d appreciate it.”
“We’d better let you pick up your lunch,” Danielle said, glancing over at Lucy’s Diner. The candy store was up the street, past the diner and a few doors down from Frederickport Vacation Properties.
Three young women walked their way, chatting amongst themselves. Walt, Danielle, and Heather waited patiently on the pavement between the cars for them to pass before they stepped onto the sidewalk. Once they did, they started up toward the diner and then spied another woman coming down the sidewalk in their direction. If asked to describe her, hippy would be the first word that came to Danielle’s mind.
When the woman was about five feet from them, Danielle flashed her a smile and said, “Good afternoon.”
The woman halted and stared at Danielle, who came to a stop, along with Walt and Heather. The woman then pointed to the sidewalk between them.
They all looked down. Something lay on the concrete. Danielle knelt down and picked it up—a thin leather cord with a delicate carving attached. Now holding it in her hand, identifying it as a necklace, Danielle stood up and looked at the woman.
“I saw one of them drop it,” the woman explained, pointing up the street. They looked in the direction she pointed and saw the same three women who had passed them minutes earlier, and who were now walking into Frederickport Vacation Properties.
“If you’re going that way, maybe you can return it to her,” the woman suggested. “The one who dropped it is the woman wearing the blue blouse.”
Now clutching the necklace in her hand, Danielle flashed the woman a smile and said, “No problem.”
“Thank you,” the woman said.
Just as the woman hurried away in the opposite direction, Danielle noticed something around her neck. Frowning, she looked from it and down to what she held.
“That’s odd,” Danielle muttered, looking down at the small carving hooked to the leather cord.
“What?” Walt asked.
“That woman, she was wearing the same necklace.”
Heather glanced down at the necklace in Danielle’s hand and rubbed her fingertips over the carving. “They probably bought it at the same gift shop. It looks like a hawk. I wonder what it’s made from.”
Walt reached over to Danielle’s hand and took the necklace from her. He studied it a moment, running his thumb over the carving, and then said, “My bet, whalebone.” He handed the necklace back to Danielle.
Danielle studied it again. “I kind of like it. I’d like something like this, but a whale or dolphin instead of a hawk. And I like the leather strap too.”
Heather laughed.
Danielle glanced up at her. “What’s so funny?”
“You own a necklace worth a bazillion dollars that you keep in the bank, and you’re looking at that like it’s diamonds and emeralds.”
Danielle grinned at Heather. “But like you said, I already have diamonds and emeralds.”
“I guess this means we’re stopping in Adam’s office before we go to the candy store,” Walt said before
the three continued up the street.
Aileana Parker stood by the large picture window inside Pagan Oils, looking out at the front sidewalk. “They didn’t even look this way,” she called out to her two sisters, Bridget and Davina, who stood together behind the counter. Their mother, when she was alive, had called them stairsteps, with Bridget now twenty-six, Davina twenty-five, and Aileana twenty-four. Often mistaken for twins—or more accurately triplets—the three redheads wore their curly hair long, falling to their waists. With green eyes, pale skin and an abundance of freckles, they had once been called gingers by a snarky neighbor, a term they found derogatory. It was on this neighbor they tried their first spell. She never mocked the sisters again.
While similar in appearance, they each had a unique gift not shared by the other two sisters. Bridget, the eldest, could hear any piece of music and then sit down at the piano and play it beautifully. Davina, the middle sister, had a photographic memory, which proved more useful than Bridget’s talent when casting spells. Aileana had learned to read lips, a skill she perfected being the youngest sister and determined to know whatever Bridget and Davina were saying when she was out of earshot.
Turning from the window, Aileana walked toward the counter.
“Was it all of them?” Bridget asked.
“All three sisters, Finola, Ina and Kenzy.”
“They would make everything so much easier if they would just walk in here,” Bridget said with a sigh.
“I’m surprised they haven’t yet. I would have thought with Sunday’s article, natural curiosity would lure at least one of them in the store,” Davina said.
“Finola is the one we need. She has the Leabar,” Aileana said.
“We assume she has it. It’s entirely possible one of the others keeps it. Or at least, can get a hold of it,” Davina said.
“No. Finola is the oldest. She would be the keeper of the Leabar. And if we can just determine if she is the White Hawk or not, we’ll know how to proceed,” Aileana said.
“I don’t see how she could be the White Hawk,” Bridget said. “The Leabar rightfully belongs to me.”
“To us,” Aileana corrected.
“I am the oldest,” Bridget reminded her.
“Bridget is the rightful keeper of the Leabar; no one can own it,” Davina said.
Aileana wandered to a display on the counter and picked up a necklace from the rack—one with a whalebone hawk carving attached to a thin leather cord. “Maybe we need to move this display to the window if we want to attract the right type of customers.”
Eight
Just as Walt, Danielle and Heather approached Lucy’s Diner, a departing customer opened its door and walked outside. With them came the enticing aroma of grilled meat; it filled the front walkway. Walt and Danielle paused a moment to say goodbye to Heather.
Walt took a deep breath and said, “I think I’m hungry.”
“You’re always hungry,” Danielle and Heather chorused.
“It is almost lunchtime,” Walt reminded them.
“And I’d better go pick up mine before I get in trouble with the boss,” Heather said.
The three said a last goodbye, and then Heather went into the diner while Walt and Danielle continued up the street.
“You want to stop somewhere for lunch after we return this necklace?” Danielle asked.
“Those burgers smelled good,” Walt said.
“You want to eat at Lucy’s?” Danielle asked.
“If you wouldn’t mind. They do have the best burgers in town,” Walt said.
“Okay. We should wait to go to the candy store after we eat,” Danielle suggested.
A few minutes later they reached the offices of Frederickport Vacation Properties, owned by Adam Nichols. Just as Walt reached for the door handle, Adam’s grandmother, Marie Nichols, appeared. Adam wasn’t expecting a visit from his grandmother. Marie had been murdered several years earlier, and Adam couldn’t see ghosts.
“Are you here to visit Adam?” Marie asked.
Danielle held out the necklace for Marie to see. “We’re just stopping by to return this. A woman dropped it on the sidewalk a few minutes ago, and we saw her walk in here.”
Marie glanced briefly at the necklace and then said, “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll join you. I haven’t seen Adam for a few days.”
A moment later Walt opened the door to the office. When Danielle, Marie and Walt stepped inside the building, they spied Adam sitting at Leslie’s desk, talking to the three women, who stood near him.
Danielle estimated the women were in their twenties, and she guessed they were sisters, considering their striking resemblance to each other. She wouldn’t call them brunettes exactly, because their hair wasn’t dark brown, it was black like Heather’s. It was also straight like Heather’s. They had delicate features and dark brown eyes, like their hair, almost black. They were around the same height, a few inches taller than Danielle. What varied between the three was hair length and bodyweight.
Adam looked up at Walt and Danielle. He smiled and said, “Hey, Danielle, Walt. I’ll be right with you. Let me finish here first.”
“Leslie’s at lunch,” Marie explained to Walt and Danielle. Leslie, who was Adam’s assistant, normally sat at the front desk, while Adam’s office was down the hall. “I stopped in Lucy’s first, thinking Adam might be at lunch. But I saw Leslie there with one of her girlfriends.”
“That’s okay, Adam. We’re actually here to speak to one of these women,” Danielle explained, flashing a smile at the woman wearing the blue blouse.
The woman frowned in Danielle’s direction, as did the two women with her.
“What do you want?” the woman with the blue blouse asked. “I’ve never seen you before, and I don’t think my sisters have either.”
Adam stood up. “Maybe I should introduce everyone. This is Walt and Danielle Marlow,” Adam began, gesturing toward the couple.
“I don’t really care who they are,” she snapped.
“That’s rude,” Marie observed.
Startled by the hostile response, Danielle held out the necklace and said in a calm, emotionless voice, “I found this on the sidewalk. A woman said you dropped it. I was just trying to return it to its rightful owner.”
“Finola, the white hawk!” one woman blurted.
The woman named Finola let out a gasp, and by reflex touched her neck to see if the necklace was truly gone. “I didn’t even notice I’d lost it.” The hostile expressions worn by the three women transformed into sheepish embarrassment.
“I apologize. I imagine I sounded rather rude,” Finola said, taking the necklace from Danielle. “I’m afraid we’ve been a little overwhelmed this week with strangers wanting to talk to us.”
Not understanding what the woman meant, Danielle said, “We just wanted to return it.”
“Thank you. I still can’t believe I didn’t notice it came off.” Finola studied the clasp for a moment and then said, “Looks like I’ll have to get this repaired.” She slipped the necklace in her purse.
Hesitantly, Danielle said, “If you don’t mind if I ask, where did you buy the necklace?”
“Buy it? I didn’t buy it. It’s been in our family for generations. It’s one of a kind,” Finola said.
“We need to get going,” the thinnest of the women announced.
“Yes, we must.” Finola looked back at Adam and asked, “Is there anything else?”
“No, that’s fine,” Adam said.
Finola gave him a nod, looked at Danielle, thanked her again, and then marched out of the office with the other two women in tow.
After the door shut, Danielle looked at Adam and asked, “Who were they?”
“Some of my odder clients,” Adam said.
“And ruder,” Marie added.
Leslie walked into the office. She said a quick hello to Walt and Danielle and then looked at Adam and asked, “Did the Baird sisters pay their rent? I just passed them out front.”
&n
bsp; “They did. I left the receipt on your desk,” Adam said. He then looked to Walt and Danielle and invited them into his private office. While Danielle had intended to just stop in to return the necklace, she was curious to learn more about the women.
A few minutes later, after going into the private office, the door shut and Adam at his desk and Walt and Danielle sitting in two chairs facing him, and Marie hovering nearby on an invisible chair, Danielle asked, “Who were they?”
“The Baird sisters. The one who lost the necklace is Finola, and the other two are Ina and Kenzy. Kenzy was the skinny one. They rent a house from us. Not vacation rental, but full time. A couple of blocks from you.”
“Are they always so snotty?” Danielle asked.
With a shrug, Adam leaned back in his desk chair. “Not really. I think they’re just a little overwhelmed from the unwanted attention this past week, since that article came out about that new shop down the street, Pagan Oils. They were telling me about it before you walked in.”
“They own that store?” Danielle asked. “They do sort of look like witches.”
Adam laughed. “Actually, you’re half right. They don’t own Pagan Oils, but they are witches—or so they claim.”
“Why is Frederickport experiencing a sudden influx of witches?” Walt asked, only half teasing.
“And it isn’t even Halloween,” Danielle added.
“I don’t know. I thought they were a little spacey when I first rented to them. I figured weird, but harmless. They told me the reason they didn’t come in yesterday to pay the rent; because when they went out, people kept stopping to ask them questions. You know, small town. They didn’t want to leave their house.”
“What kind of questions?” Walt asked.
“That article about Pagan Oils, about the witches,” Adam explained.
“I thought you said they don’t own Pagan Oils,” Danielle said.
“They don’t. But they’ve never hidden the fact they call themselves witches. Leslie calls them a witches’ coven. Imagine they dance around naked under the moonlight or something,” Adam said with a snicker.