Whispering Pines Mysteries Box Set 3

by Shawn McGuire

  “Couldn’t manage to have a family of your own, could you?” Flavia taunted and tried to pull free from the firm grip Basil had on her upper arms. When Reeva didn’t give her a response, she added, “Do you really think you can steal my son from me? Do you honestly think he will prefer an aunt who’s been absent his entire life to the mother who’s always been here and always will be?”

  Big words. I knew their history, which meant I knew why Reeva had been absent for the last twenty years. It involved a night of Flavia and Reeva’s husband comforting each other after Flavia’s husband had died in a bear attack. Shockingly, things got worse from there.

  “Flavia?” I approached with caution like I would an angry animal. “You’re causing a disturbance.”

  She glanced up at me with a crazed look in her sharp-blue eyes. She said nothing to me but spun back on Reeva.

  While Basil, Violet’s twin brother and business partner, detained Flavia, I turned to Reeva. “What’s going on?”

  Reeva held up a finger, indicating I should give her a moment to finish reading her current passage. She flipped the page, placed an intricately embroidered linen bookmark in the crease, and closed the book. Before answering, she took a sip from her cappuccino.

  “It appears my sister has found out that I am providing the land for Martin’s cottage.”

  In a move that few villagers fully understood, Reeva had decided to divide the six acres she rented from the village and give half of them to her nephew and my deputy, Martin Reed. I had written it off as just another way to get back at her sister for that night of comfort twenty years ago.

  “Didn’t she already know Reed was building a cottage?” I asked.

  “She knew he was building but not where.” Reeva took another sip, her eyes sparkling as she looked at me over the cup. Then she sighed contently and set the cup aside.

  Sibling rivalry at its best. Or maybe at its worst. “Now she knows and wants to make you pay?”

  “That’s my guess.”

  Flavia strained against Basil’s strong arms. When she couldn’t get away, she kept verbally attacking Reeva from across the room. “Everything was fine until you came back to the village. I was patient while you cleaned out Karl’s house.”

  Reeva’s eyes narrowed and darkened at Flavia’s mention of Reeva’s recently deceased husband.

  “I said nothing when you announced you were staying in the village,” Flavia continued. “I said nothing when you took that seat on the village council. I didn’t even say anything when you decided to finally act like an aunt to my son. In fact, I encouraged him to spend time with his only other living relative.”

  Reeva made a scoffing phfft sound.

  “But now, I find out that you have betrayed my generosity. Not only have you convinced him to leave my home, you’re moving him into your backyard.”

  Flavia looked at me as though expecting me to do something about this outrage. Then Reeva threw me under the bus.

  “It wasn’t my idea for Martin to move out on his own. Jayne planted the thought in his head first.”

  “He’s twenty-three years old,” I objected, “and can’t even do his own laundry. It’s well past time for him to have his own place.” I scowled at Reeva. “I never said he should move into your backyard, though.”

  Flavia made a violent lurch forward, finally breaking free of Basil’s hold. In a flash, she was across the room with her long bony fingers wrapped around Reeva’s throat.

  “Jayne, do something,” Violet insisted as the two women grappled. “They’re going to break something.”

  “As in, each other?”

  She shrugged as though that was possible but not her primary concern.

  I physically pulled the two apart and stood between them with arms spread wide, keeping Flavia from charging again. “You need to calm down.”

  “She’s stealing my son.”

  “Your son is an adult. He’s free to live wherever he wants. You, however, are going to be charged with assault if you don’t settle down in the next two seconds.”

  I stood, with my hand literally on Flavia’s upper chest, holding her back, and turned to Reeva. “Are you okay?”

  With a hand to her own throat, Reeva coughed and gasped, trying to get her breathing under control. There were red marks on her neck from Flavia’s assault, and her eyes were watering. Her voice came out raspy when she spoke. “I’m fine. Or I will be.”

  “You’re probably going to have a nasty sore throat. Do you want someone at Unity to take a look?”

  She shook her head and whispered, “I’ll make myself some healing tea when I get home.”

  I’d had my fair share of Morgan’s special Wiccan blends. That would do the trick better than any medical treatment the village clinic could provide.

  I asked Basil to keep Flavia from going ballistic again while I continued speaking with Reeva.

  “Do we need to be worried about her? I mean, I realize she’s upset with you but to attack you this way?”

  Reeva, whose eyes were the same piercing shade of blue as Flavia’s, stared at her sister with a look I couldn’t define. There was a glint of something nasty and almost triumphant that made my breath catch. My sister Rosalyn used to get the same look when I would get in trouble while she walked away from a situation unscathed.

  “Honestly,” Reeva whispered, “I was prepared for her to do something like this. You were exactly right. Martin should have moved out long ago. She’s had him so tight in her grasp for so many years, I’m surprised I didn’t need to break him out.” She clamped her hands together in a representation of Flavia’s stranglehold on her son. “I’m proud of him for finally taking action.”

  “Do you know how he’s doing? I know he comes back every weekend to work on that cottage—”

  “He’s been in the village?” Flavia screeched. “Every weekend? He hasn’t come to see me.” She glared at her sister. “He’s been staying with you, hasn’t he?”

  Flavia made another lunge for Reeva, but Basil stood in front of her this time like a bodyguard denying entry to the town’s hottest nightclub.

  “Have you apologized to him for the things you said about Lupe?” Reeva asked her sister.

  “I only said the truth,” Flavia insisted, sniffing and looking away. “I don’t have to apologize to my son for telling him what he needs to hear.”

  “He loved her,” Reeva said, making Flavia flinch.

  “He loves me. I’m the only woman he needs in his world.”

  “That,” Violet said with a look of disgust, “is all kinds of messed up.”

  The Grinder’s door opened, and a few villagers walked in. They froze in their tracks and walked out again when they realized the sister feud had ramped up another notch.

  “Answer my question,” Flavia demanded. “Has my son been in the village and no one has told me?”

  Reeva’s mouth turned in a wicked smile. “Yes, he’s been in the village every weekend since Samhain. And he didn’t come to see you. What does that tell you about how your son feels about you right now?”

  With that, Flavia darted past Basil with a spin move any NFL running back would be proud to master. She went for Reeva’s throat again. I attempted to pull her off, but in the process, she shoved me into a small table full of coffee condiments and accessories. A thermos of half-and-half dropped, broke open, and spilled all over the floor. A shaker of cinnamon joined it, creating a reddish-brown stream in the middle of the white puddle. Cardboard sleeves to put around paper cups went flying, fell into the creamer, and became ruined as they soaked up the liquid. Well, some of the liquid. Meeka was lapping up the non-cinnamon flavored portion.

  The sisters, Basil, and Violet all stared at me, sprawled out on the floor with stir sticks stuck in my hair.

  Violet rushed to my side and helped me up. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Just embarrassed and a little fed up.”

  “You’re not the only one.” Violet turned, pointed f
irst at Flavia and then at the door. “That’s it, get her out of my shop before I press charges.”

  I took hold of Flavia’s upper arm while indicating Reeva should stay where she was by the fireplace.

  “You need my help with her?” Basil asked.

  “I’m not sure.” I stared Flavia in the eye. “Are you going to come with me quietly, or do I need to find something to handcuff you with?”

  In addition to always having my badge and my Glock with me, I would now always be sure I had at least one pair of zip-strip cuffs in my pocket.

  “I believe I’ve made my point.” Flavia stood tall with her nose in the air, once again her normal prim self.

  “Honestly, Flavia,” Violet said while dropping soggy paper sleeves into the nearest garbage bin, “I can’t remember the last time you were in my shop. You finally come, and you do this?”

  Flavia had the decency to look ashamed and nodded at the mess all over the floor. “I will repay you for the damages I have caused.”

  “You sure will.” Violet was still fuming. “I intend to send you a bill. And I’m going to pad it out for the lost business from customer’s you scared away.”

  “What about you, Reeva?” I asked. “Would you like to press assault charges?”

  The vindictive side of me hoped she’d say yes. It wouldn’t result in more than a fine and a night in jail, but oh, how satisfying would that be?

  “Can I think on that for a bit?” Reeva asked. “I wouldn’t want to make an emotional decision. I mean, if Martin was my son, I’d be upset too.”

  At the wicked gleam in Reeva’s eye, Flavia lurched again. I had a good hold on her, though.

  “If I don’t hear from you by the end of the day,” I told Reeva, “I’ll assume you’re passing on charges.”

  Before anything else could happen, I escorted Flavia out of the Bean Grinder and toward the Fairy Path entrance. Villagers standing in pairs and small groups around the commons paused their conversations to stare. Shop owners stood on their porches with questioning looks and smirks hidden behind hands. Naturally, word had spread in record time about the commotion the sisters were causing.

  As we passed Shoppe Mystique, Morgan caught my eye from where she stood on her porch. I shook my head, indicating I couldn’t stop now, and continued to guide a muttering Flavia. I had no idea what she was saying, probably trying to put a hex of some kind on Reeva. Or maybe on me since I had initially encouraged her son to leave her house. She didn’t seem to even notice where I’d taken her until I opened one of the holding cell doors and put her inside.

  “Are you arresting me?” she asked.

  “No. Lucky for you, no one’s pressed charges. Yet. I’m putting you in time out. I want you to sit here for a while and cool down. I understand you’re upset, but I cannot believe you just attacked your sister in public. Oh, I will be issuing a fine for disturbing the peace. Just to you, not Reeva.”

  Flavia stood there with her arms crossed. “Reeva always comes across as the innocent one.” She sounded like a little girl whose sister just got away with breaking a prized family heirloom by blaming it on the cat. “She’s fooling you, Jayne. She’s fooling everyone. You’ll see.”

  I pointed at the cot bolted to the wall. “Sit and chill.”

  As I crossed the room to my office, Meeka squeezed between the bars of the other cell, jumped up onto that cot, and stared at the crazy angry lady.

  It had been more than a week since I’d been in the station, so this was a good opportunity to go through my emails and sort through the mail that had been shoved through the slot on the front door. As I figured, there was nothing urgent and only a few things of any real importance in my inbox, but it was full and needed sorting.

  While I was on the computer, as I did every time, I checked on the status of the APB on my scummy and until recently unknown half-brother, Donovan Page. He’d escaped custody four months ago after being arrested on various charges surrounding my grandmother’s death. Unfortunately, there was nothing new to report there. Not that I had expected to find anything. Deputy Atkins at the county sheriff’s office had promised to contact me with any updates, no matter how small.

  “Are you done in there yet?” Flavia demanded from the other room. “I have cooled down, as you requested, and would like to go now. I have an appointment.”

  “It’s only been a half hour,” I called back. “I still have a stack of mail to sort through.”

  As with the emails, ninety-five percent of the paper mail ended up in the recycle bin. There was one envelope that stood out, though. It was the size of a postcard and had only “Sheriff O’Shea” typed on the front. Someone had hand-delivered this card. Instinct took over, and I slid on a pair of latex gloves before opening it. Not wanting to smudge any possible fingerprints, I held it gently and only by the edges. I sliced the envelope open with a letter opener and slid out a plain white card. It looked to be standard cardstock that could be purchased at any office supply store and fed through a printer. As on the outside, I found only a single line of text when I opened the card.

  I know what you did.

  Was this a joke? What did I do? Then my mind went to everything that had happened surrounding Lupe Gomez last month. Was this related to that? It could have been a member of the Hernandez-Jackson family unhappy with how I’d handled things with Jacob and Matt. The card had been hand-delivered, though. Maybe it was a villager upset that I’d given Lupe so much leeway in the village all summer.

  “Are you done with your mail yet?” Flavia asked. “You can’t possibly have that much.”

  How long had I been sitting there going through the possibilities? My mind tended to run amok with options in situations like this. I looked down to see Meeka sitting in the office doorway. It seemed watching Flavia had become boring.

  “You’re right,” I told my dog. “It’s one envelope. For all I know, it could be some bored local kid looking to cause trouble.”

  Meeka cocked her head to the side, confused.

  I slid the envelope and note into a plastic evidence bag, just in case, and placed it in the evidence locker on the far side of my office. I wrote out a ticket for disturbing the peace and crossed the building to Flavia’s cell.

  “It’s about time,” she said, gathering her possessions. “I think you’ve embarrassed me enough.”

  “Oh, Flavia. You know me better than that. If I wanted to embarrass you, I wouldn’t do it in the privacy of the station.” Before inserting the key in the lock, I handed her the citation.

  “What’s that?” She looked down her pointy nose at the offending paper.

  “I told you I’d be fining you for disturbing the peace. Pay your ticket, and I’ll let you go.”

  Flavia sniffed and dug into her small bag. Then she shoved some bills out through the bars at me.

  “Thank you.” I counted the cash and then asked, “What’s going on with you and Reeva?”

  “You heard it all.” Her narrow, bony face flushed a medium pink, like she’d suddenly gotten a sunburn. “She’s trying to steal my son, and I won’t tolerate that.”

  “You do remember that I know all about your past, right? I know what happened between you and Karl and where Yasmine came from.” Her sunburn deepened. “I also know what you did to your sister’s marriage.”

  Flavia had gotten pregnant by Reeva’s husband the night of the comforting. After bribing Karl and Reeva with other damning, scandalous secrets, Reeva left Whispering Pines with the baby and raised her as her own in a small town north of Milwaukee. Then six months ago, twenty-year-old Yasmine returned to the village and turned up dead on my property.

  “What’s done is done,” Flavia said dismissively.

  “Maybe. Have you and Reeva ever talked about those events?”

  Flavia sniffed. “Don’t get all touchy-feely with me, Sheriff. My relationship with my sister is none of your concern.”

  “It is when it’s the reason you’re causing a scene in the middle of my v
illage.”

  “Your village?” She laughed while tugging on her long leather gloves. “Someone is getting mighty big for her britches.”

  “My job is to maintain the peace. When you’re physically attacking people in a public place, it’s my job to stop it.” I unlocked the cell door and held it open for her. “If it happens again, I’ll gladly throw you right back in here. Don’t doubt that for a second. And I’ll press charges on behalf of the village.”

  She secured her drab-gray wool cloak around her neck and left the station without another word. She and Reeva were nowhere close to having dealt with their past, which meant more troubles. As I had been for the last six months, I would continue to keep an eye on her.

  Alone now with nothing to do and nowhere near ready to go home, I looked at Meeka. “Let’s go find Morgan.”

  Chapter 3

  The moment we entered Shoppe Mystique, Meeka paused for a pat from Morgan and Briar and then trotted straight to the reading room at the back of the building. Smart dog. It was toasty warm in there due to the fire roaring in the fireplace. She jumped up on one of the wingback chairs next to the hearth, curled into a ball, and promptly fell asleep.

  “What was going on earlier?” Briar was arranging books about the Christmas/Yule season on the top shelf of the bookcase. “I went over to see if everything was okay. Violet had quite a mess to clean up.”

  I filled them in on the details while Morgan removed small pumpkins, gourds, and dried leaves from the mantel over the hearth and replaced them with pine boughs, pinecones, and red pillar candles.

  “We knew this was coming,” Morgan said. “I’m only surprised it’s taken this long to boil over.”

  “The problem is,” I said, handing her a dinner-plate-sized grapevine wreath with a pentacle woven into the center, “I don’t think this is anywhere near the boiling point. Flavia was doing her best to get a rise out of Reeva—”