The Ghost and the Witches' Coven

by Bobbi Holmes

  “How do you know they’ll be thrilled knocking off one of their own kind?”

  “They are witches, Brad.”

  “Okay, so let’s say this works—which frankly sounds real out there. Dad will still be locked up.”

  “I know. But he’ll be in his right mind again. And we need Dad in his right mind so he can get Mom under control.

  After they finished their lunch on Thursday afternoon, Walt and Danielle walked up to the new candy store. Danielle got her free samples and ended up spending over forty dollars on gourmet dark chocolate. On the way back to where they had parked the Packard, they walked up to Pagan Oils and peeked in the front window to check out the necklace display.

  “The dolphin is adorable,” Danielle said.

  “You want to go inside and get it?” Walt asked.

  Danielle glanced down at the sack in her hand and then looked up to Walt. “We can come back later. It’s warm out here, and this free chocolate was kinda expensive. I don’t want it to melt.”

  Kathy Stewart stood across the street, looking toward Pagan Oils. She had noticed the Packard immediately, which was why she remained on the opposite side of the street after Brad dropped her off. She stood within the branches of a massive pine tree. Looking toward the store, she spied two people at its front window. It was not until they turned around did she recognize them: Walt and Danielle Marlow. She stepped back in the branches and waited. The Marlows walked to the Packard. Walt opened the door for Danielle and held it as she got into the car.

  “Oh, what a gentleman,” Kathy snarked under her breath. She watched as Walt closed the door and then walked to the driver’s side and got in. After a few minutes, the Packard pulled out into the street and drove away.

  When the car was no longer in sight, Kathy walked to the street, paused a moment, and looked both ways for oncoming traffic. When there was none, she hurried across to the other side. Once there, she paused on the sidewalk in front of Pagan Oils for a moment and dug one hand into her pants pocket and pulled out the ring. Its large ruby glittered in the afternoon sun.

  “Oh, Mother, you never wore this thing anyway. Let’s see if this can help slay a witch,” Kathy muttered, shoving the ring back into her pocket. She headed up the walkway to the store’s front entrance. Just as she was about to reach for the door handle, the door opened, and a couple of customers walked out. They both greeted Kathy, and one held the door open for her as she entered the building.

  Once inside, Kathy glanced around, taking in the shop’s unique inventory. There was only one other person in the store, a redhead standing behind the counter. Kathy recognized her immediately. She was one of the women she had seen in the YouTube videos on witchcraft. There were three of them—sisters. Kathy remembered their names from watching the videos: Bridget, Davina, and Aileana Parker. But she didn’t know which sister stood behind the counter; they looked so much alike.

  As in the videos Kathy had seen, this one wore a kaftan, which seemed to be the sisters’ preferred style of dress. In the videos she noticed the fabrics were nature themed, such as the dress this one wore today, a black background with crescent moons and cartoonish sun images.

  Bridget wondered if the new customer was just a curious lookie-loo. She doubted she was a blood witch conjured up by last night’s spell. It would be convenient, but unlikely. It wasn’t that she didn’t think the spell would work, but she didn’t expect it to work overnight.

  “May I help you find something?” Bridget called out.

  The woman walked to the counter and asked, “You’re one of the owners of Pagan Oils, one of the Parker sisters, correct?”

  Bridget grinned and said, “Yes. I’m Bridget Parker. You saw the article in last Sunday’s paper?”

  “Actually, I’m a fan of your YouTube channel. My name is Kathy Stewart.”

  “Nice to meet you, Kathy. Oh, tell me, are you a sister witch?” Bridget asked in a whisper while thinking, I would not be that lucky—an unsuspecting blood witch walking in my door.

  “The way you ask, might there be some reason I wouldn’t want to acknowledge the fact out loud?”

  “Well, they did use to burn us at the stake. So the answer is yes?”

  Kathy shook her head. “No. Just someone curious about—your way of life.”

  “If you’ve watched our videos, you’ll know it’s more than our way of life. It’s who we are. Who we’ve been since before our birth,” Bridget said.

  “You’ve really always known you were a witch?”

  “Yes. We are blood witches, meaning we come from a long line of witches. They are the only true witches.”

  “I watched the one video where you talked about Wicca. I’m sort of surprised you were so—blunt. I would think those people would be your—well—customer base.”

  Bridget laughed. “Yes, many are our customers. But if I am to help them—or anyone who seeks what we offer—that requires complete honesty.”

  “And what do you offer, exactly?” Kathy asked.

  “First, you need to understand there are two types of witches, the blood witch, which I mentioned, and then the self-taught witch. A self-taught witch can learn how to use spells, but her powers never come from within, always from external sources.”

  “You have a power that doesn’t come from an outside source?” Kathy asked.

  “Yes,” Bridget said with a nod.

  “Would it be possible for a self-taught witch to make something fly, or would that be something only a blood witch could do?”

  Bridget smiled. “A self-taught witch could never make something fly. And frankly, only the most powerful of blood witches can make anything fly.”

  “Do you know many blood witches?” Kathy asked.

  “I know of other blood witches. But the only ones I know personally are my two sisters.”

  “I know a blood witch,” Kathy whispered.

  Bridget felt her heart race—a blood witch? Was it possible the spell had worked so quickly? “Please, tell me about this blood witch. I am…very interested.”

  “Her name is Heather Donovan; do you know her?” Kathy asked.

  “No. I’m not familiar with that name. Is she from around here?” After asking, Bridget thought, Oh, please say she is!

  “She lives on Beach Drive, near the pier.”

  “And how do you know she’s a blood witch?”

  “She told my father she’s a witch,” Kathy explained.

  Bridget let out a disappointed sigh. She knew it was too good to be true. Many people claimed to be witches who were not blood witches.

  “She cast a spell on my father. She made him fly around the room. So she must be a blood witch,” Kathy said. “She has destroyed my family, and I want her vanquished.” Kathy then pulled the ruby ring from her pocket and set it on the counter before Bridget.

  Bridget’s eyes widened as she stared down at the ring.

  “It’s three and a half carats,” Kathy explained. “You can have it. All I ask is that you vanquish Heather Donovan.”

  Eleven

  “I can’t believe you wanted to come here for dinner,” Aileana said after the hostess showed them to a booth overlooking the ocean at Pearl Cove. She sat next to Davina, while Bridget sat across from them.

  “You’ve both been wanting to come here, and I thought tonight it would be the ideal place to celebrate,” Bridget said primly as she picked up the cloth napkin and shook it out before setting it on her lap.

  The server took their drink orders and then left them alone at the booth.

  “What are we celebrating? It’s not the store’s first-month anniversary yet,” Davina said.

  “It is much better than that,” Bridget told her.

  “Oh, I know. You got your hands on the Leabar, and we can get on with our lives,” Aileana suggested.

  “Not exactly, but you’re getting warmer.” Bridget picked up her purse off the seat next to her and pulled out a small box. She removed its lid and handed it across the table
to Davina and said, “Look, but do not remove it from the box. I don’t want any curious eyes in here to see it.”

  Davina took the box and held it between her and Aileana. They looked inside and gasped. By reflex, Aileana reached in the box, but Bridget quickly reprimanded her, and the younger sister withdrew her hand.

  “As you can see, the spell worked,” Bridget said proudly.

  They handed the box back to Bridget and then listened while she explained how she had obtained the ruby. When she finished, Davina said, “If you think about it, there’s no reason to try the spell on the other blood witch. Heather Donovan, that’s her name, right?”

  “Why do you say that?” Bridget asked.

  “Wasn’t the point in sacrificing a blood witch just to make certain the spell works? Obviously, it does. The proof is sitting in your purse,” Davina reminded her.

  “The only reason Bridget got the ruby in the first place was by agreeing to vanquish Donovan,” Aileana reminded her.

  Davina laughed. “I don’t think this Stewart person is going to try getting her ruby back. What exactly will she tell the police?”

  “Trying the spell on Heather Donovan has nothing to do with honoring our side of the bargain. Although, even if we decided not to do it, we would still keep the ruby. As Davina pointed out, why would we give it back?”

  “Why keep the ruby?” Aileana asked.

  “Are you forgetting, each time it vanquishes a blood witch, her power goes into the ruby. Why would we walk away from that? And the sacrifice witch is obviously powerful if she could make a man fly,” Bridget said.

  “And very dangerous,” Aileana reminded her.

  “Which means we have to be very careful,” Bridget said.

  “Do you have something specific in mind?” Davina asked.

  “We need to find this Heather Donovan and learn as much about her as possible. We need to assess her powers and determine how best to get her into a cooperative state before casting our spell,” Bridget explained.

  “To Walt, on success with his second book,” Ian said, lifting his champagne glass in toast. Next to him, his wife, Lily, lifted her glass. It was the first time in weeks she had left Connor with a sitter, but tonight was for the adults. To Lily’s right was the man of the hour, Walt Marlow, and her best friend and Walt’s wife, Danielle. Next to them sat Chris Johnson and Heather Donovan. They all joined Ian in toasting Walt.

  “Will this one be another New York Times bestseller?” Chris asked after taking a sip of his champagne.

  “I don’t think lightning will strike twice,” Walt said humbly.

  “Don’t listen to him,” Ian told the others. “I talked to our agent today, and he told me Walt’s manuscript arrived in his email late Tuesday evening, and he only intended to have a look at it before going to bed, and once again, he ended up reading the entire thing. He didn’t go to sleep until the next morning!”

  “Was he mad at Walt for keeping him up all night?” Heather teased.

  “Hardly. That’s what agents dream about; books readers can’t put down. He was rather excited about it,” Ian said.

  Danielle grinned at Walt. “I’m very proud of him.”

  “Yeah, well, it seems unfair. He does have the advantage over other authors in the same genre,” Chris teased.

  “How so?” Danielle asked.

  “Think of all the research he can skip on life in the twenties. He lived them,” Chris said.

  “Not to mention he used to be a moonshiner in his other life,” Lily teased. They all laughed.

  A few minutes later, the direction of the conversation shifted when Heather spied Brian Henderson being seated across the restaurant from them with a woman.

  “Hey, look who’s here,” Heather said. “Brian Henderson, and he’s with a woman. I wonder who she is.”

  Danielle glanced toward Brian’s table and said, “It’s his cousin.”

  Believing Danielle was just trying to be funny, Heather said, “No, I’m serious, who do you think she is?”

  “I was being serious. It’s his cousin. Her name is Kitty. She’s staying with him this week. Walt and I met her this afternoon,” Danielle said.

  “Ahh, that’s too bad. I sort of hoped old Brian was finally getting out there. His luck sucks with women,” Heather said sympathetically.

  “Why? Just because the last two women he’s gotten involved with—that we know about—were killers?” Walt asked.

  “Maybe it would be better for ol’ Brian if he stuck to his cousin,” Heather said with a snort. “Although I’m surprised he’s not seeing anyone. He’s kind of good looking.”

  Lily glanced over to Brian and then back to Heather. “I suppose. He’s got nice hair.”

  “It’s gray,” Ian said.

  “Yeah, but men look good in gray hair,” Heather said.

  Lily let out a sigh. “True. But I confess, it’s hard for me to look at Brian and find him attractive, considering how much grief he gave us.”

  “Oh, I have to tell you guys what Brian saw at our house the other day,” Danielle said. She then told her friends about Walt flying her around the living room on a broom and Brian witnessing it all.

  “And he believed it was a trick?” Lily asked.

  “What else could he believe, that Danielle can really fly a broom?” Ian asked.

  “You know what they say,” Heather said.

  “People believe what they want to believe,” they all chorused.

  “That flying-broom thing is hilarious,” Heather said. “I think Walt should fly me over the old Barr place and scare the crap out of Beau’s kids since they’re staying there.”

  “They are?” Lily asked.

  “Yeah. Heather saw them parked on our street, watching our houses. We told the chief about it, and he said they’re staying at the old Barr house. I guess their mother cut them off,” Danielle explained.

  Danielle then looked at Heather and said, “And having Walt fly you over the Barr place is a bad idea.”

  “Why? I’m sure their dad told them how I’m a witch. I guess he’s been telling everyone. Would be hilarious. Maybe they would get locked up with dear old dad.”

  “The problem, I know the son has a gun. He just might try shooting you out of the sky. Target practice,” Danielle said.

  “Walt could protect me,” Heather insisted.

  “Sorry, Heather. Danielle is right. I could fly you over the Barr property, but it would require complete concentration. If I had to take my focus off you and use it to stop the bullet—”

  “You would fall out of the sky,” Chris finished for Walt. “A very undignified ending for the witchy woman. And I would probably have to look for a new assistant.”

  Heather gave Chris’s arm a playful swat, and they all laughed.

  “The one in the blue shirt is Ian Bartley, but you probably know him as Jon Altar,” Brian told his cousin as they sipped their cocktails and glanced over to the table with the Beach Drive residents. Brian had noticed them when the server had brought Kitty and him their drinks.

  “You told me he lived here. And the redhead next to him, I assume that is his wife?”

  “Yes. Lily. She’s the one who used to live with Danielle at Marlow House, when they first moved to town.”

  “Ahh, she’s the one who sucker punched you,” Kitty teased.

  “No. It was not Lily.”

  “Who is that cutie sitting next to the vampire?” Kitty asked.

  Brian laughed. “I assume you’re talking about Chris Johnson. Who, by the way, is really Chris Glandon.”

  “That is Chris Glandon? Wow, billions and he looks like that? You would think he could have any woman he wants. But he goes for goth? Is goth even in now?”

  “That’s Heather Donovan, and for the record, I don’t think they’re dating. She works for him. She’s also not a vampire,” Brian said.

  “I am relieved to hear that,” Kitty said with a chuckle.

  “But rumor has it, she is a witch.
” Brian took a swig of his drink.

  Kitty arched her brows. “Witch? As in one of those Wicca people?”

  Brian shook his head. “I don’t think so. She’s more the cast-the-evil-spell, make-things-fly-across-the-room type of witch.”

  “Oh, Brian, is this about the weird stuff that happens at Marlow House? The broom flying around the living room?”

  Brian chuckled. “No. Actually, it’s not. It’s what Beau Stewart claimed.” He then told his cousin about the arrest of Beau Stewart and his outrageous claims regarding Heather Donovan.

  “Aileana, I asked you a question,” Bridget said impatiently, annoyed that her baby sister seemed to be ignoring her.

  Aileana quickly put up one hand and shushed her sister while she stared across the dining room. “I am listening, and it is very interesting.”

  Bridget and Davina immediately understood their sister was not listening per se, but reading the lips of someone in the restaurant. They glanced to where Aileana had fixed her gaze.

  “Isn’t that a cop? I’ve seen him around town,” Davina said.

  Aileana nodded. “Yes, and you want to see what Heather Donovan looks like?”

  “That’s not the woman he’s with, is it?” Bridget asked. She had not expected the blood witch to look like a boring middle-aged woman.

  Aileana waved her hand again to silence them. Bridget and Davina sat quietly, their eyes shifting from Aileana to the police officer and his dinner companion. Finally, Aileana let out a deep breath and looked back to her sisters and said, “Okay, they’re talking about boring stuff now. But that was interesting.”

  “What did you mean when you asked if we wanted to see what Heather Donovan looks like?” Bridget asked.

  Aileana nodded to another table and said, “The round table, with six people. The girl with the long black hair, that is Heather Donovan.”

  “Are you sure?” Davina asked.

  “Yes. I could only pick up a little of what they were saying at that table. But the cop, they were talking about the people at Donovan’s table. And guess what?”