by Dawn Eastman
The firemen climbed into their truck and waved.
“Good luck, Frank!” one of them yelled. The other one laughed and beeped the horn.
“What’s going on, Dad?”
“Maybe I should go . . . ,” Diana said, but I shook my head and held up one finger.
Dad gestured toward the house. “I had set the burglar alarm to test it—I was waiting for Seth to come home so he could pretend to break in and I could time how long it took the alarm company to call.”
I crossed my arms and narrowed my eyes.
“I decided to fix the toilet roll holder in the downstairs bathroom while I waited,” Dad said. “I noticed it was a little wobbly the other day when I was here.” He caught my eye and quickly looked away. “Anyway, the holder fell off and I slipped and dinged up the wall a little bit.”
“That’s fine, Dad. How did the fire department get involved?”
“I’m getting to that. I got out the paint to repair the wall and then Seth arrived. He didn’t know I’d set the alarm, so when he came in, the alarm went off.”
I nodded.
“Tuffy didn’t like the noise and apparently he likes to hide behind the toilet when he’s scared.”
I was starting to see where this might be headed.
“I went to turn off the alarm, and Tuffy ran into the bathroom and fell into the paint pan.” Dad looked at his shoes. “Tuffy doesn’t like paint, either.”
Seth stepped off the porch, still trying to keep Tuffy’s feet away from his clothing. “In Tuffy’s defense, he’d never stepped in paint before. The poor guy was freaked.”
“In the process of trying to catch Tuffy, I missed the phone call from the alarm company.”
“So they sent the fire truck, again,” Seth said.
Dad’s face brightened. “The response time was really impressive.”
Dad finally allowed me to go inside. The front hallway was covered in tiny blue footprints. The path of Tuffy’s flight was well marked from the bathroom, down the hallway to the front door, where the prints began to fade and then disappeared, presumably where Seth had picked him up.
“I’ll help clean up,” Diana said. “Hot soapy water should be enough since it’s still wet.”
I took a deep breath and rolled up my sleeves, ready to clean up the mess.
Seth stopped me and reminded us that Rafe’s memorial was that evening. Skye and Faith had taken him to Big Buy, where they picked up supplies for the memorial.
Diana was horrified and embarrassed that she’d forgotten.
Lucan had put himself in charge of the plans when Dylan was arrested. He’d called Diana and said he would take over while she dealt with her brother. According to Diana, there wasn’t much actual planning to do since Rafe had left very specific instructions as to how his service should be arranged. We left Dad and Seth with a bucket and a mop and Diana explained the process as I drove her home to get ready in time.
The first part of the service was to be held at dusk in the woods with Rafe’s coven-mates and close friends. I wasn’t going to be a part of that ceremony. Diana said they would encourage Rafe to continue his journey if any part of him still lingered. Apparently both Lucan and Diana felt there was a strong chance of this since Rafe died so suddenly and because he was a control freak. Rafe wanted to be cremated, but his body hadn’t been released yet. They planned to bury his ashes near his parents’ graves in a Grand Rapids cemetery.
My whole family would attend the reception afterward. That was supposed to be a time for anyone to say good-bye. Alex had been working on the catering for the event.
By the time I returned from Diana’s place, Seth and Dad had made a good dent in the cleanup. We put Tuffy in the tub while Dad went home to warn the ladies that the reception was that evening. Before leaving, he extracted a promise that we keep this little mishap to ourselves. He said living with Vi was difficult enough without handing her ammunition.
Seth and I left a damp Tuffy and an exhausted Baxter at home and went to my mom’s for chili while we waited for the reception. Even though I told her we’d have plenty to eat once we got there, she had been planning to serve chili and so we were going to eat the chili.
I wasn’t surprised when the dinner conversation turned to pointed questions about what to expect at the reception.
“Will there be a fiery cauldron again?” Vi asked.
“I don’t like what Vi told me about invoking goddesses and elements,” Mom said. “It just seems dangerous to me, messing with all of that.” She waved her hand in the air to encompass all of the Wiccan philosophy.
“I wish we could go to the woods with Diana,” Seth said.
“I’m glad we don’t have to,” Mom said.
Dad focused on his food.
“What will they do at this reception thing?” Vi asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I think it’s just like a regular reception after a funeral. Talking and eating.”
“Did Alex say anything about drinks?” Dad asked.
I shrugged and focused on my food, hoping they would move on to other topics. Then I regretted that thought as they began discussing Diana’s release, Mac’s inability to make a reasonable arrest, and who might have had a grudge against Rafe.
After a lengthy monologue on Wiccans and their cats and whether they were reliable sources of information in the murder of Rafe, Vi finally pushed her bowl away and announced we should stop dillydallying. Seth sputtered at the implied accusation and Mom patted his hand and subtly shook her head.
The Reading Room was in an old city building that had been converted into an assembly hall space. It was used by psychics during the tourist season for readings that had been scheduled and for walk-ins. Some of the psychics had people visit them in their homes, but more and more had begun to opt for the more anonymous Reading Room. That way they kept some distance between themselves and their clients. It could fit about one hundred people. I thought that would be plenty of space but Diana was worried.
We arrived and saw that she was right to be concerned. The streets were packed with milling clumps of mourners and Dad had to park several blocks away. He muttered to himself about how it would have been easier to walk from the house and Mom patted his arm as the two walked on ahead toward the reception.
“Wow, that Rafe was more popular than I thought,” Vi said.
“Ooh, look—some of them are wearing robes.” Seth pointed to a couple of people in black, hooded robes walking toward the building.
“I wonder if there’ll be fiery cauldrons again,” Vi said.
“I hope they don’t have that burning spice stick this time,” Seth said. “That thing smells.”
“Shhh!” I said. “You two are acting like . . . tourists.”
Vi’s intake of breath demonstrated her shock and outrage at such an insult. Seth ducked his head and shrugged.
The crowd was rowdier than I had expected and the noise level grew as we walked closer. I spotted Diana’s bright orange hair through the crowd and pushed my way through the throng, pulling Seth and Vi with me.
Diana spun around when I tapped her shoulder and I could see she’d been crying. But she smiled and said, “Isn’t it great that so many people came to say good-bye?”
I nodded, and Vi gave her a hug.
“I got worried earlier that maybe with all the talk about people arguing with Rafe that not many would show up, but look at this.” She held her arms out toward the crowd and I remembered how much she had loved Rafe. I had begun to think of him as just another victim, and a not very nice one at that, but Diana had seen another side of him and I was glad for her that so many people agreed with her. However, I was picking up a tense feeling from the fringes of the crowd. They didn’t all have their solemn funeral faces on. In fact some of them appeared to be heckling the crowd. One clump of boys in their
early twenties had clearly been drinking and were still passing a couple of brown bags around, taking sips, and getting louder.
Then I looked the other way, down the street, and saw a small group of people with hand-painted signs: PAGANS GO HOME! REPENT! FEAR GOD! WICCA: SATAN’S LIE! My chest tightened. Protesters.
I tried to usher Diana inside before she saw them, but I was too late.
“What are they doing here?” she said.
“Who? What?” Vi said and looked around.
“There’s Skye,” Seth said, and pointed.
Skye, dressed in a long black robe with a hood, approached the crowd with her hands up. The group stopped. Skye spoke to the woman standing in the front of the group.
“Is that her mother?” I said to Seth.
He nodded. “I think so.” Seth’s phone buzzed. I glanced over his shoulder and saw a text from Faith: Have things gotten interesting yet?
He switched off his phone with a disgusted snort. “She knew,” he said to me.
28
The sound of breaking glass caught everyone’s attention. Someone had thrown a rock through the front window of the Reading Room. I spun around, ignoring the protestors for the moment, to focus on the gang of drinkers.
Lucan Reed pushed his way through the crowd, shoving people out of the way if they didn’t move fast enough. He approached the clot of rowdy twenty-somethings. Vi, Seth, and I moved closer to them to hear what they were saying. I clutched Diana’s hand in my own and dragged her with us.
“That’s going to cost you, son,” Lucan said to a lanky kid with sandy brown hair that fell into his eyes. He grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and the rest of his friends backed away.
“Owen! What are you doing here?” Skye left the protestors, circled the crowd, and ran up to Lucan and his prisoner.
“Why do you have to hang around with these freaks?” Owen said to Skye. Lucan gave him a little shake.
“Lucan, you can let him go. He’s not dangerous,” Skye said.
“Oh, is this your new boyfriend?” Owen slurred his words and stumbled a bit when Lucan let go of him. “The old guy kicked off so you’ve moved on already.” He flung his arm in Lucan’s direction. “I know you’ve been meeting him in secret.”
“Owen, go home. We’ll talk later.” Skye had her hands up and was trying to calm him down, but Owen was on a roll.
“I’m not afraid of him, Skye. Everything was cool until you got into this . . . group.” Owen stepped forward and took a wild swing at Lucan, who easily sidestepped him and placed him in a headlock as the kid spun around.
“Wicked,” Seth whispered next to me.
“Oh, no,” Diana said.
I heard muttering from the small group of activists and turned to see Charla approaching from the police station.
“All right, that’s enough.” Charla pushed her way through the throng and approached Owen and Lucan.
I noticed some of Owen’s confederates on the outer edges of the crowd peel away and walk back down the street, the way they came.
“What’s going on here?” Charla directed her question at Lucan.
“Thish guy attacked me, offisher,” Owen said to Charla.
Lucan rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his wide chest. He pulled himself to his full six-foot-plus height and glowered at Owen. Owen slid behind Charla.
The signs had disappeared, and the anti-Wiccan activists murmured amongst themselves. Charla walked toward them and said, “Move along now. Unless you’re here to pay your respects, you can just keep moving.”
Bea’s lips pressed into a thin line but she turned away with the rest of her group and within a minute only Owen and Lucan remained.
“Someone threw a rock through the window and it looks like there may have been a demonstration planned,” Lucan said.
“No. I had nothing to do with them,” Owen said. He waved his arm toward the retreating group of demonstrators. “I came here for Skye.”
“Okay, no one’s been hurt, that I can see,” Charla said. She pulled out her pad of tickets. “I’m giving you a citation for disorderly conduct.” She ripped it off and handed it to Owen. “And you can pay for the window.”
“Oh, man,” Owen whined.
“Is there anyone here who can get you home?” Charla asked. “I better not catch you driving yourself or you’ll spend the night at the jail.”
“I’ll take him.” Skye stepped forward.
“Are you sure?” Lucan asked her.
“Dude, she said she’d take me. Back off,” Owen said over Skye’s shoulder.
Lucan narrowed his eyes, but didn’t respond.
Diana stepped forward, took Lucan’s hand, and steered him away from Owen. “Let’s go inside.”
He turned toward the Reading Room with Diana and didn’t spare another glance at Owen.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I said to Skye.
She nodded. “He’s harmless. I’ll get him home and come back in a little while.” She lowered her voice. “We broke up a few months ago. He’s not taking it well.”
I noticed that Seth’s phone had been intermittently buzzing during this whole altercation and he was currently typing furiously with his thumbs.
“What is Faith up to?”
“Hmm? Oh, nothing. She knew her mom would be here.” He slipped the phone into his pocket.
I lifted an eyebrow at him. He shrugged and turned to head into the reception.
“Charla, where’s Mac?” He had a gift for showing up just when things were getting interesting.
“He took Neila Whittle home.”
“What?”
“Neila Whittle. She lives on Rowan Street, at the top of the hill,” Charla said. “I’m sure you’ve noticed her house. I think I ran you off of the place a few years ago with the rest of the kids.”
Charla had a corrupt sense of time. It had been at least fifteen years since I’d been up there with anyone else, and at least ten since I’d been called a kid.
“I know who she is,” I said, scowling. “Why is Mac taking her home?”
“I was walking back to the police station when I saw that crew headed this way with signs.” She tilted her head in the direction that Bea’s group had gone. “I could tell trouble was brewing so I went and got Mac to help out. We found Neila cowering in the doorway of the bead shop, watching the gang go by.”
“Does Mac know her?” It seemed everyone knew Neila except for me.
Charla shook her head. “Not really, he just decided to get her home quickly. She was pretty upset. We didn’t know Owen and his buddies were here as well. Mac figured I could deal with a few angry churchgoers on my own.”
“What do you mean?”
“The people with the signs. Didn’t you get a look at them?”
I shook my head. “Not really. I assumed it was the usual ‘Wicca is evil’ type of thing that crops up here and there.”
Charla nodded. “Yeah, that’s about it. Devil worship and sin, that’s what they claim. It’s that group from Covenant of Grace Church in Grand Rapids. But it wasn’t the Wiccans looking like an angry mob.” She tsked, and shook her head.
“Was Neila okay?”
Charla studied me for a moment. “I’m not sure. She seemed confused and she was crying. I haven’t seen her in town in years. Maybe she’s starting to have some dementia. . . .”
“I don’t think so.”
Charla shrugged. “You can ask Mac about it next time you see him.”
“Thanks, Charla.”
She nodded. “I’ll just stick around out here for a while to discourage any further shenanigans.”
I followed the remaining mourners toward the Reading Room.
* * *
As soon as Charla turned her back, I veered off to the left around the side of the
building. I peeked in the windows to see if I could spot Seth or my dad in the crowd. Seth, because he had a cell phone, and Dad, because I needed his car.
The place was crowded and it was clear that the food was at the far end of the room based on the huge number of people gathered there. Finally, I saw the two of them leaning against the wall with full plates. I called Seth and watched while I waited for him to answer. One ring. He didn’t even pause in his shoveling movements. Second ring. The food must be fantastic because he was ignoring his phone. After the fourth ring, it went to voice mail and I glared at Seth through the window even though he couldn’t see me.
I dialed again. This time I saw him pat his pocket. He handed his almost-empty plate to my dad and pulled out his phone.
“Herro?” His mouth was full and he crunched chips in my ear.
“Seth, it’s me, Clyde.”
He turned and scanned the room, clearly trying to find me in the crowd.
“Where are you?”
“I’m outside. I need to borrow Papa’s car without anyone knowing. Can you ask him for me and bring me the keys?”
I saw Seth put the phone against his shoulder and talk to my dad. Dad reached into his pocket and scanned the room at the same time. Seth came back on the line.
“I’ve got them but he wants to know how long you’ll be. He doesn’t want to get stuck here all night.”
“I won’t be more than a half hour.” Maybe less, if I couldn’t find Mac.
“’Kay. Should I come outside now?”
“Yeah, I’m around the side of the building. Don’t let Charla see you.”
He clicked off the phone and I saw him make his way through the crowd to the door. A few minutes later I heard him crunching through the leaves and coming toward me. It had gotten fully dark in the time since we first arrived.
“Clyde?” Seth whispered.
“I’m here.” I stepped forward so he could see me in the light from the windows.
“Here’re the keys.” He dropped them into my hand. “Want me to come with you? What are you doing, anyway?”
“I’m just following up on a lead. You go ahead in. I need you to run interference for me with Vi and Nana Rose. Keep telling them you just saw me across the room or something. That will keep them occupied until I get back.”