Just Your Average Small Town Cult (Lainswich Witches Book 14)

by Raven Snow

  “We probably shouldn’t stay here too long. We should get going,” Jasper urged.

  “One more minute,” Rowen said back, but he was right. After turning a few more pages she finally just gathered the book up in her arms. She turned to leave just in time for someone to switch the lights off. Rowen yelped, dropping the book so that it made a loud thud at her feet.

  There was a great deal of shuffling in the room before the lights came back on. Two masked men stood near the door, blocking it. The masks were gold, stylized to look like some kind of animal, probably an elephant. “What are you doing here?” asked one of the men wearing a mask.

  Rowen recognized him and his mustache immediately. “McMillan?” Her gaze moved to the other man next, recalling the other dentist they had spoken with on the golf course. “Mr. Beech?”

  Neither man said anything for a while. Finally, both of them just grumbled and removed their masks. It was indeed the dentists. With a heavy sigh, the older of the two, Beech, stepped forward. “I know why you’re here.”

  “I’m shocked,” Rowen replied, her tone flat. She stood poised to make a run for it in case things went south.

  Beech nodded. “We’re not mad you’re here, honestly.”

  McMillan looked at his friend as if he didn’t quite agree with that.

  “I believe most everyone will be glad you found your way here, in fact,” Beech continued.

  Rowen was with McMillan on this one. She wasn’t quite sure she believed him either. “And why is that?”

  “Because this is where you belong. Your family helped us found this town for a purpose.” Beech pointed to the book at Rowen’s feet. “It’s all in there. Our little society here--”

  “Cult,” Rowen corrected.

  Beech frowned. “Our secret society has been at the heart of this town since the beginning. The Stonewalls and the Greensmiths both helped set the foundations through, well, witchcraft. They used their magic to ensure that Lainswich would remain insular. With few exceptions, this town draws only one sort to it.”

  “And what sort is that?” asked Rowen.

  “Criminals. Lainswich has always been a hotbed for dangerous sorts. They’re drawn in and news of them rarely gets out. We were originally founded to remove the undesirables from Tarricville.”

  Rowen had always noticed that Lainswich seemed to be its own liminal space. News rarely escaped town unless it needed to reach someone important. She had also noticed that she found herself solving an inordinate number of crimes since she had come here. Still, how could it be true? “Lainswich is still pretty… idyllic. There would be criminal activity running rampant if what you’re saying is true.”

  Beech nodded in agreement. “I’m afraid our little organization has been just for tradition’s sake until recently. Local law enforcement got a bit crooked for a long time there. Criminals weren’t getting punished like they should. Drawing in criminals was making the town a cesspit. Your grandmother quit because of it. The Stonewalls moved to Tarricville. We went through the motions but, obviously, don’t have magic of our own.”

  Rowen concentrated on the room, feeling for the energy of it. Magic had been done here and recently. “Let me guess. The Stonewalls have become secret society members again.”

  Jasper perked up. “Huh?”

  Again, Beech nodded. “They have. Not all of them, though. Just Ferris and Diane and, even then, only on a trial basis. You’d returned to Lainswich, and you were doing such a good job bringing criminals to justice, like your family had been known to do in the past.”

  “You mean to tell me you’ve been lighting this place up like a bug trap for criminals just so I can bring them to justice?”

  “In all fairness, many of the criminals were already here from before. They were just lying in wait. Now that we have you and a new Chief of Police to boot, we’re working like a well-oiled machine again. We’d be honored if you joined us here like your grandmother did before you.”

  Rowen stared at the men. It took several seconds for her to realize her mouth was agape. “Absolutely not.”

  “Why not?”

  “You’re a bunch of murderers for starters! You killed Edward Waite, because he was going to expose you!”

  Beech and McMillan exchanged a look. “It wasn’t like that,” McMillan said with a sigh.

  Beech nodded. “We didn’t learn about Waite until after the fact. That had nothing to do with us. You don’t think we would be so stupid as to leave a crime scene that incriminating, do you? We’re a secret organization, remember? Emphasis on the secret bit.”

  “Who was it then?” asked Rowen. They knew. She could feel it.

  “There’s only one person it could be,” said Beech and then, they both told her everything they suspected.

  ***

  It was completely dark out when Rowen arrived at the Waite’s hotel room. She was alone when she went up to the door and knocked. She wouldn’t be alone for long, and this was definitely a very stupid thing to do for a multitude of reasons. Not least of which was the fact that she was still banned from this particular hotel and had only managed to find the correct hotel room through illegal means. Still, she felt the need to do it. She had to be sure.

  No one answered at first. She knocked again then heard the shower running. The cold hand of a mild panic grabbed at her heart then. What if Janice was in the shower? What if it was Lucas who opened the door? Fortunately, Janice opened the door a moment later. Unfortunately, she did not look happy to see Rowen.

  “What do you want?” asked Janice, her expression icy.

  “Can we talk?” asked Rowen. “Outside?”

  “Why would I want to go outside with you?”

  “It’s about the police and Mr. Lords.” Rowen noted the way Janice gripped the door frame tighter, her knuckles pressed white against her skin. “I just don’t want to talk about it where your son can hear. Please can we talk downstairs?”

  Janice glanced back in the direction of the bathroom. “Five minutes. You have five minutes.” She tied the bathrobe she was wearing tight around her pajamas and followed Rowen downstairs. It was slow going in heels, but Rowen was able to make it back outside without alerting management. They walked out onto the sidewalk together and stood at the corner of the building.

  “I know what happened to your husband. I know about Marvin Lords,” said Rowen.

  Under the streetlights, Janice’s eyes grew wide. “What are you saying? Are you saying he killed my husband?”

  “Sort of. In a manner of speaking, I guess.” Rowen held up her hand when Janice began to open her mouth to object. “Please just hear me out. I know Marvin was your husband’s best friend for a long time. I know things got strained between them when Edward developed a drug problem. Marvin was a lot older than Edward. He’d been his mentor, got him his job. It reflected poorly on Marvin. Not to mention having a drug addict for a husband was really taxing on you and your son.”

  Janice shrugged. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

  Rowen licked her lips and took a deep breath before continuing. There was no way to know how Janice would respond to what she had to say next. “I know you were in love with Marvin Lords.”

  “You know no such thing!” snapped Janice, her wide eyes wild and offended.

  Rowen held up her hands in surrender. “Fine. I think you were in love with Marvin Lords. I think he loved you, too. At the very least, I think the two of you were attracted to one another. And I get it! I do. He’s a handsome older man. I’m not sure if Edward losing his job happened before or after the two of you got together. Before, I think. Losing his job cut off Edward’s means of obtaining and abusing drugs. I think Marvin supplied Edward with drugs through his own connections so that the two of you had an easier time of seeing each other.”

  “I’m not standing here and taking this,” Janice said, firmly. “You don’t know anything about me or my family, you--”

  “I know that you wanted your husban
d out of the picture. You married young and never signed a pre-nup. Lucas would live with you, but by the time divorce proceedings were done he’d be eighteen. His birthday is coming up. You couldn’t trust Marvin to leave his wife. Maybe you didn’t even want Marvin to leave his wife. Maybe you just wanted financial freedom enough to live how you wanted and date someone new. Either way, I know you asked Marvin to help you. I know you asked him how you could make his death look accidental, like an overdose.”

  “I don’t care what you think you know--”

  “That part isn’t what I think. It’s what Marvin Lords told authorities when they picked him up for questioning. See, an anonymous tip came in connecting the Lords family to that symbol found in your home.”

  Janice didn’t have anything to say. Her mouth had opened again, but no words came out.

  Rowen continued, “I think the night your husband died you purposely went to stay with your parents in Tarricville. I don’t think you stayed there, though. I think you went back home. I don’t think it would have been difficult to get Edward into position before you killed him. I hear that toxicology said he was high as a kite when he died. I think you shot him and dressed up the crime scene to look like that weird cult or secret organization or whatever it is he belongs to. You knew he’d been looking to sell the story about them. He needed money since Marvin had cut him off cold turkey. Things were getting too serious for him. He liked you, but he didn’t want to be party to murder. All the same, he didn’t immediately come forward and rat you out when it happened, so he’s still in some trouble for that. It’s probably why he’s going ahead and cooperating with the police.”

  Flashing lights appeared in the distance. Rowen didn’t have long. She could see at least two cop cars and the Channel 2 news van following close behind them. “I know you love your son, Janice. He seems like a good kid. I didn’t want there to be a scene. He shouldn’t have to see his mom get arrested. That was why I brought you down here.” Well, that and she wanted to talk to Janice herself. She wanted to confront her with what she had put together and see how Janice reacted, see if it was the truth. It was. She knew that now. “What do you say?”

  Janice took off running. Rowen hadn’t expected that. Why hadn’t she expected that? Rowen kicked off her heels as she broke into a sprint and, for the second time that day, tackled a grown woman into some bushes.

  Epilogue

  Rory wasn’t an evil cult member. Well, he might still be evil, but he hadn’t played any part in his father’s crimes. He’d long since moved out before Edward Waite and Marvin Lords were even friends. He claimed to be horrified by all of this, and Rowen believed him… For now.

  It was the tricentennial. It was a happy day. At least, her family was trying to make it happy. Lydia was purposely pretending that Margo wasn’t still in trouble with the law; that a lot of the things meant to be on display had not been stolen; and that Roland Davies wasn’t loitering around the store like a lovesick puppy. Poor Roland. Rowen would rather have him as a stepdad than Rory. Ugh. Rory. Always trying to start conversations and do favors for people.

  “I don’t think Rory is evil,” Eric said, coming to stand on the sidewalk outside of Odds & Ends to watch the parade with his wife.

  “That’s not what I was thinking about. I just came out to watch the parade.”

  “Seriously?” Eric cast an incredulous look at some kids waving from a large, hay-covered truck bed. “This is a sad parade. I mean, that one isn’t even a float. You sure you don’t want to go back inside? Rory brought funnel cakes.”

  “No, thank you.”

  “Willow has a video of you pulled up on her phone. Someone made a techno remix of you tackling people into bushes.”

  “I saw. It’s in really poor taste.”

  “It’s catchy, though.”

  “That doesn’t… Yeah… Yeah, it is,” Rowen conceded.

  “What’s got you so introspective?” asked Eric, putting an arm around Rowen’s shoulders and giving her an affectionate squeeze. “You’re not worried about that secret society thing, are you? Golden Pigs or whatever they were?”

  “Golden Elephants, and no.” She really wasn’t. They weren’t so much of a “secret” society anymore. Rowen had turned down their offer of membership and gone straight to the police instead. They’d practically known who the murderer was and hadn’t come forward. The least they could do now was be forced to make statements and help out in the legal case. Rowen wasn’t sure how many people from the group would be involved or if they’d get into any trouble, but Channel 2 had already done one news segment about them. They’d no doubt do more in the future. “It’s more what they said… I can’t stop thinking about it. There are criminals in Lainswich, probably a lot of them. I’ve probably talked to one or more of them, passed them by on the street and never known it.”

  “So?” Eric asked with a shrug.

  Rowen looked up at her husband, offended by how blasé he sounded. “What do you mean, ‘So?’”

  “I mean, it’s no different than it’s always been, is it?” asked Eric. “You’ll just keep doing what Greensmiths were meant to do from the beginning. You’ll solve the next crime that comes your way… and the next… and the next. Bit by bit, you’ll make Lainswich a better place, just like you always do.”

  Rowen smiled. He was right. She stood up on her tiptoes and gave her husband a kiss before turning back to the, admittedly kind of pathetic, parade. The Greensmiths had helped found this town. Maybe it had once just been meant to clean up Tarricville’s trash, but times had changed. It was its own town now. It was home, and no one was going to stop Rowen Greensmith from continuing to protect it.