Whispering Pines Mysteries Box Set 3

by Shawn McGuire

  “I know,” she interrupted and gave me a tight smile. “You’re looking out for my safety. That’s why we hired you.”

  I sure hoped I could live up to the job.

  Chapter 19

  After all the coven members had left, Reed stayed behind to talk to Reeva about harlequins. Dad and I went to the station to get the Cherokee while Morgan and Briar went with River to his car. We hadn’t told Dad the real reason for going to the Barlows’, so he thought it was just to continue the night. Even though it was almost midnight and Briar was ready for bed.

  “Are you sure she can handle us coming now?” he asked. “She’s starting to slur. That’s from the stroke, right?”

  “Right.” I turned the key, and the engine made a sluggish rrr-rrr sound a few times before turning over. “It happens when she gets tired. She’ll be fine. I don’t think we’ll be staying long.”

  “You’re making this sound like something more than a social call.” He stared at me from the passenger’s seat. “What’s going on, Jayne?”

  “I’ll explain when we get there.”

  Fortunately, it was only a five-minute drive to their cottage. Also fortunate was that Dad and I beat the trio home because there was a package, same as the one Dad received earlier, by the front door. I “dropped” my car keys and picked up the rectangular box before Dad spotted it.

  The Barlows and River arrived two minutes later. While they settled in, I went directly to their phone in the small, cozy living room and called Tripp to let him know what was going on.

  “I wish you were wrong,” he said of the assumption that Donovan was after the whole Pack, “but I think you might be right.”

  I told him about the package I found on the front stoop. “Any lingering doubts vanished when I saw that box.”

  “You’re going to explain everything to your dad now?”

  “We are. No sense hiding it. What’s Rozzie doing?”

  He gave a tired but amused laugh. “She’s on the couch under a blanket and is propped up with about four pillows. She has tissues all over the floor because she keeps missing the trash, and there are at least five different snacks and an open bottle of wine on the coffee table. Meeka hasn’t left her side in two hours because she keeps dropping food.”

  “You could send me a picture with no caption, and I’d know it’s a rom-com movie marathon.”

  “Lucky me.”

  “Don’t say anything to her. We’ll let her be sappy and happy for the night and tell her what’s going on tomorrow.”

  “That works.”

  “One thing, make sure the alarm system is on and the doors are locked.”

  He paused before asking, “You think he might come over here?”

  “I have no idea what he’ll do. Oh, I never asked, did Alan move into Nina’s room?”

  “I think so. They showed up around lunchtime and said they were moving her stuff out and his in. He didn’t think he’d be back until sometime tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Tomorrow? They were picking up a rental car for him to use. That shouldn’t take more than a few hours.”

  “Depends on where they went. Maybe they had other stops to make. I didn’t ask.”

  “True. They could be visiting friends or something.” I shrugged it off. I had more urgent things to deal with.

  “We shouldn’t be too late,” I promised.

  “Good. I miss you.”

  “The rom-coms are starting to affect you, aren’t they?”

  “Can’t I say I miss you? And I love you?”

  He was such a softie. “I love you too. Be home soon.”

  I found the group in the kitchen. Someone had started a fire in the little fireplace, and Briar was dozing in her favorite wingback chair next to it. The other three were gathered around the small table there with mugs of tea in hand. A steaming mug waited for me.

  “All right,” Dad began, “we’re all here. We’ve got tea. Tripp has been updated with our location. What’s going on?”

  Morgan and River remained mute. This was my tale to tell.

  “Remember the weird harlequin doll you received?”

  His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I remember.”

  “I’ve seen dolls like that before. One of them was in Gran’s linen closet when I was cleaning it out.”

  He, Morgan, and River were silent as I explained how and why Donovan made the dolls.

  “Donovan?” He shifted in his seat. “And why didn’t you tell me this when I opened the thing?”

  “Because the last time I thought Donovan was in town, it was my ex-partner, Randy Ketchum. That’s a story for another time, though.”

  “This time you’re certain it’s Donovan?”

  What was he thinking? What was he feeling? Dread? Excitement? Did he want to meet the son he’d basically been forced to abandon forty years earlier? Or had he turned off his emotions surrounding Donovan and wanted nothing to do with him?

  Before I could answer his question, the phone rang. Morgan leapt up to get it before the ringing woke Briar. Too late.

  “I’m not a child,” Briar scolded when I tried to shush her back to sleep. “Besides, if I don’t get up now, I’ll be up all night.”

  “Jayne.” Morgan held the extension out to me. “It’s Laurel.”

  “Laurel?” There was only one reason she’d be calling me at the Barlows’ not to mention so late at night. My legs felt like hundred-pound weights as I crossed the kitchen.

  “Creepy ass bastard,” she said the second she heard my voice. “Delivered the damn thing when we were at Hearth & Cauldron. Left it on the front desk.”

  “He delivered a harlequin to you?”

  The four others were instantly alert to my end of the conversation.

  “Yes,” Laurel confirmed. “I sent you a picture of the thing.”

  “Did you touch it? I’m hoping we’ll be able to get fingerprints or evidence of some kind off of it.”

  I took out my phone. Fortunately, Morgan and Briar were high-tech witches. They did all their paperwork and ordering for Shoppe Mystique from home so had the most current Wi-Fi available.

  “What’s she saying?” Dad asked.

  I waved him off.

  “I didn’t handle it much,” Laurel said. “If you hadn’t told me it might be coming, I probably would’ve inspected it a lot more closely.”

  “Okay, hang on. I’m opening the picture.”

  The doll was immediately recognizable as Laurel by the nearly all-gray hair twisted into a bun. It also had gray-blue eyes that resembled Laurel’s. She tended to wear flowing pants and loose button-down shirts. The doll was dressed the same way, its clothes made from diamond-pattern fabric. The similarities to Laurel were eerie, but the thing that stopped me cold and made me gasp was that the head was tilted slightly to the side, a faint pink line encircling the doll’s neck.

  “You see it, don’t you?” Her voice was high-pitched and panicked. “You see the pink line. Is that supposed to mean he’s going to strangle me? Hang me?”

  Only once in the seven months I’d known Laurel had I seen her lose her composure. It was during Mabon Fest, and she was telling me about how as a kid she wanted to be a kitchen witch in the worst way. The envy etched across her face when she spoke of Sugar and Gin Wakefield’s skills made my breath catch. Right now, she was losing it in a different way. She sounded understandably terrified.

  “Do you need someone to come be with you?” I asked.

  “You’re not going to answer my question?”

  “I don’t know what he’s planning, Laurel. If you don’t feel safe there alone, go to someone’s house. Close up The Inn altogether and go home with Gardenia. Go over to Emery’s place. Better still, go out to Pine Time. We’ve got rooms available.”

  Her ragged breathing worried me as much as the doll did. It sounded like she was close to hyperventilating.

  “If you’re not sitting, sit down and put your head to your knees,” I instructed. “I don’t wan
t you falling and hurting yourself.”

  A minute later when her breathing had steadied, she had a plan. “I’ve got a handgun and a license to carry. If I need to use it . . .”

  She let the question hang out there, but I knew what she was asking. Laurel owned the building and lived in a small apartment on the main level on the east side of The Inn.

  “If it’s self-defense and you need to use force inside your home, I won’t press charges. Don’t go chasing anyone outside. And don’t shoot anyone in the back. If they’re fleeing, let them flee.”

  “Then I’ll be fine.” She sounded like her normal self again. “It’s too late for Gardenia to leave. We’ll lock up the building, and she can sleep in my guest room.”

  “If something goes wrong, you call me or Reed immediately. Got it?”

  “I’ve got it.” Her voice was almost too calm now. It sent shivers up my spine. “We’ll be fine.”

  She hung up before I could say more. I clicked off the phone and found four sets of eyes staring at me. I debated for a second and then showed them the picture.

  “This was waiting for her when she got back to The Inn. He left it on the front desk.”

  Morgan put one hand over her mouth and the other on River’s arm.

  “Hang on.” Dad put both hands up in a stop gesture. “I understand that what he’s done is upsetting, but is it illegal?”

  “It’s a credible threat,” I said.

  “Sending a doll is a credible threat?”

  “I told you about the dolls being made to resemble the victim in death. Gran’s doll looked like a person who’d been drowned.” I pointed out the pink line and tilted head. “This leads me to believe he intends to hurt Laurel with some kind of ligature.”

  “Sounds more like you’re making an assumption.”

  “That is my job, Dad.” Why was he debating this? “I make assumptions about what I believe might happen and then do what I need to do to keep citizens safe.”

  “That’s two dolls,” he countered. “Couldn’t it be a coincidence?”

  This defense of a son he knew nothing about was getting on my nerves.

  I retrieved the box I found by the front door from the living room where I hid it beneath my jacket. “I found this on the porch when we got here.” I set it on the table and respectfully added, “Label says Briar.”

  Morgan went steely cold and held out her hand. “Give me that.”

  Briar swatted her hand away. “I’ll open it.”

  “Why don’t you permit me to open the package?” River offered.

  “This bozo is after my friends and me.” Briar snatched the box from the table. “I will open it.”

  She got a pair of scissors from a kitchen drawer, and we watched with great anticipation as she sliced open the tape.

  “Don’t touch it,” I said when she flipped up the box flaps. “We need to preserve any possible prints.”

  Using the scissors, I pulled out the sheet of white tissue paper covering the doll. Beneath it, we saw a harlequin resting in a nest of red tissue paper. Was the color change significant?

  The doll was smaller than the others, which was representative of Briar’s short stature. A bit of salt-and-pepper hair poked out from beneath the harlequin cap it wore. A tiny triple moon goddess pendant lay on the doll’s upper chest that perfectly matched the ones Briar and Morgan always wore.

  “I don’t see anything wrong with this one,” Dad noted with more concern this time.

  “Neither do I,” River agreed.

  Using the scissors, I turned the doll over and found a red stain covering almost all of the hat. I flipped the doll onto its back again and pushed the hat off.

  “Bastard,” I breathed, echoing Laurel’s description. I pointed out the tiny black dot in the center of the doll’s forehead.

  “Is that supposed to be a bullet hole?” Morgan looked horrified.

  I didn’t say it out loud but thought that explains the red paper beneath. It was supposed to represent blood.

  Briar paled to an almost snow-white with either shock or fear and then turned crimson with anger.

  “We need to do something about him,” she demanded. “I’m not only saying this because he’s threatened my life. This makes three, that we know of. The other four remaining Pack members will likely be receiving one of these awful creations soon.”

  “Three,” I murmured.

  “Three what?” Morgan asked.

  “Flavia won’t receive one.” My mind spun with what to do next. “He’s working with her again, you can be sure.”

  “You’re splitting hairs, Jayne,” Morgan insisted. “Mama’s point is, we have to do something to stop him.”

  “No vigilantism,” I ordered, coming out of my daze. “No witchcraft. No brewing up something that will make him sleep for a hundred years. This has to be by the book. Donovan has caused a lot of trouble. We need to make sure all charges stick.”

  “A potion like that,” River added, “would cause great harm to the maker’s karma.”

  He’d been absolutely straight-faced as he spoke. It took us a second to understand he was joking and trying to break the unbelievable tension. It worked. We all laughed good and long. I laughed so hard I had tears in my eyes.

  “All right.” I turned serious again. “We need a plan. A solid one.”

  “That,” Briar began, “will be best accomplished after a good night’s sleep.”

  “She’s right,” Morgan agreed, and River nodded.

  “But what if the others—”

  “Not tonight,” Dad cut me off. “It’s almost one in the morning. I understand you’re scared for your villagers. I get it now. You said it yourself, we can’t let anything slip through the cracks on this one.”

  I wanted to argue, but they were right. “Okay. We’ll meet again in the morning. River? You’ll stay here tonight?”

  “I will. The ladies Barlow will be perfectly safe this evening.”

  I had no idea what River’s physical abilities were, but he had the appearance of being a bounty hunter from Hell. He never wore anything but black and had a glare that could melt the fangs off a vampire. As long as he stayed here tonight, I had no doubt Morgan and Briar would be absolutely fine.

  There was plenty of doubt, however, about whether I’d get any sleep. My mind would not shut down. Where was Donovan? He had to be somewhere in this village. And if that was true, I’d do whatever it took to ferret him out.

  Chapter 20

  Dad and I were exhausted by the time we walked through Pine Time’s front door. We couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of Rosalyn still on the sofa. An attractive young woman on the television screen had done something that had broken the heart of an equally attractive young man, nearly ending their relationship. She had seen the error of her ways, though, and was professing her sorrow and never-ending love.

  Dad looked at me with amusement. “You set her up with movies to keep her distracted?”

  “I had no idea it would work this well.” I reactivated the alarm and called out to her, “Rosalyn? We’re home.”

  She waved a tissue at us in reply. I wasn’t sure if that meant hello or shoo, go away. She grunted unintelligibly when I asked where Tripp was.

  Meeka’s head popped over the back of the sofa, a sleepy expression on her face. She leapt off, stopped midway to us to stretch, then dramatically dragged herself over to my feet and leaned against my legs.

  I picked her up and held her close as we climbed the stairs. “Had enough undying love for one night?”

  She laid her head in the crook of my neck and immediately went limp.

  “Is she sleeping? Just that fast?” Dad asked.

  “It’s a gift. I’d give anything to do that.”

  We walked down the hall and at the door to the attic, Dad took my elbow and led me to his room in the corner.

  “Have a seat,” he said when we got inside.

  “It’s almost two in the morning, Dad. Jet lag has you
wired, but I’m wiped out.”

  He guided me to a sitting position on the edge of the bed and pulled a chair over to sit across from me. “I promise, just a minute or two. Tell me more about Donovan. Do you really believe he’s capable of doing the things the dolls represent?”

  The question behind that question was, “Is my son really a serial killer?” Or a potential one. To my knowledge, Gran’s was the only death he’d been directly involved in, and he’d sworn it was an accident.

  I thought of how stone-cold he’d been that day I brought him in to discuss how she’d died. How entitled he acted to be a member of the O’Shea family. How completely unemotional and matter of fact he was through the entire interview. And then the best moment, when he slipped and said “we” put her in the bathtub. He’d had an accomplice. That person had to be Flavia.

  Dad sat before me now looking eager for news. What did he want to hear? That despite him not being a part of his son’s life, his boy was a fine upstanding citizen? And if the worst was true about Donovan, did he want me to say it wasn’t his fault because he hadn’t been involved? In the end, it wasn’t my job to make him feel better about this.

  “It’s not what you want to hear, but yes, I honestly believe he’s capable of doing those things.”

  While Meeka snored in my ear, I told him about Donovan’s interview and, for a moment, considered letting him listen to the recording. He seemed satisfied with my answer, though, and walked me to the bedroom door.

  “Despite everything else,” I said, “I enjoyed going to the coven gathering with you.”

  He tapped his chest over his heart. “Brings about a sense of calm, doesn’t it?”

  “It does. Almost makes me want to go more often.”

  “Thinking of studying Wicca?”

  I gave the question serious thought before answering. “Honestly, I get pretty much the same feeling after sitting on the deck at night and communing with the lake and pine trees.”