by Kathy Dexter
“And you believed a psychic? I heard you considered Twyla a con artist.”
“I never said that.” Miranda clawed at the fabric on the chair’s arms. “Twyla foresaw Meredith’s and Connor’s killer murdering you and your sister if you combined your magic.”
“You didn’t tell Hunter?” Kat demanded.
“Of course not.” Hunter expelled a short bark of laughter. “She constantly reminds me I’m the last of her family, and her world would fall apart without me. Doesn’t mention you. Or Twyla and her message. Aunt Miranda’s usual approach. Smother me with bubble wrap until I can’t breathe on my own.”
“You’ve turned against me.” Miranda’s chin quivered. “I shielded you and Katelyn from violent deaths when I couldn’t do the same for my own sister.”
“Is that why you put a spell on Hunter?” Kat hissed, her blue and green eyes shimmering with slivers of fire.
Miranda blinked. “What are you talking about?”
“I don’t have amnesia.” Hunter rubbed both sides of my head. “A dark enchantment blocks my memories.”
“That can’t be!”
“According to the Ancients, I must translate Mary Hawthorne’s journal––a grimoire––to obtain a counterspell that will clear my mind and reveal my past.”
“But Twyla told me to bring the journal to her.”
Hunter glanced at the mirror. The fairy wings didn’t move.
Miranda’s shoulders hunched. “Call Twyla. She’ll confirm it.”
“I have her number.” Kat took out her cell. She moved toward the window and out of earshot.
Ally murmured in Hunter’s ear, “You can’t trust Miranda. More manipulation.”
“Could be.” Hunter’s voice was scratchy from the heated conversation. “The whole thing’s overwhelming.”
Ally rubbed Hunter’s arm. “Can I get you anything?”
“One of those beers.”
“You got it.” Ally dashed to the kitchen and returned quickly with an opened bottle.
The cold liquid cooled the heat in Hunter’s throat. “What about Paul Fleming? He continued to give me drugs even after other doctors released me from medical care. Was that part of your plan? Blur my ability to think for myself so I’d be incapable of sensing the threats against me?” Hunter clamped her jaw to hold back the rage about to erupt.
Miranda slammed an open hand on the chair’s arm. “Paul had to sedate you. Otherwise, the nightmares would have damaged you irreparably. Paul has always looked out for you and me.”
“Like the time the two of you broke into the museum to steal your parents’ treasures?” Molten steel burned through Hunter’s words.
“H-how do you know that?” Muscles jumping alongMiranda’s cheek. “The worst time of my life.”
Hunter wanted to feel sympathy for Miranda, but she’d caused too much heartache. “You were arrested, but claimed to be your twin. Why make Meredith suffer?”
Miranda’s fingers curled into fists. “Because she refused to join me. Miss Goody Two Shoes. Meredith used to be part of my pranks. And then Connor Sloane interfered, convinced her he had a better way to live.”
“So you wanted revenge.”
“Jealousy is red, not green. It festers and chafes until the heart bleeds.” Miranda slowly exhaled. “I ruined everything.”
Hunter pressed. “What happened?”
“When our parents confronted Meredith about the attempted robbery, she didn’t deny it, didn’t say anything. Packed her belongings and moved in with Connor. Wouldn’t see me or talk to me. I tried to make it right, confessed I’d used Meredith’s name. By then, my parents had enough of what they called teenage rebellion.”
“The Hawthornes changed their wills,” Hunter said.
Miranda nodded. “They sent a formal letter indicating their children had to grow up and find their own way in life. They were leaving their money to charity. Later, Mother indicated they’d made one change, leaving the museum to you.”
“Why me? I was only a toddler when I inherited.”
“I’d moved to the city before you were born, but friends told me you and Mother became inseparable. In the codicil to her will, Mother wrote she’d sensed mystical energies flowing through you when you first came into the world. She said you would have a role in saving the secrets of the Ancients and would use the contents of the museum in doing so.” Miranda shrugged. “I didn’t believe it, but at least the museum would stay in the family.”
Hunter struggled to make sense of it all. A few ideas coalesced. “Did you tell anyone about the change in your parents’ wills? Like your friend Paul?”
“No. Why would I?” Miranda’s eyebrows arched in surprise. “You think Paul––”
“Remember what Logan told us in his hospital room? During a stakeout he overheard Dr. Fleming and Davy Jones argue over tampering with brakes twenty years ago.”
Miranda pushed her palms outward, as though warding off Hunter’s words. “You can’t possibly believe those two killed my parents so I could inherit.”
“Your so-called friend gambles and loses huge amounts.” Hunter’s words spilled over one another. “Did he ask for a loan after the Hawthornes died?”
Miranda raked fingers through her hair and stammered. “I-I s-said I-I was b-broke. M-my parents had cut me off. N-no inheritance. Told him why.”
“How did he react?” Hunter’s gaze burned into her aunt’s.
Skin pale and lined, the woman seemed to shrivel and age in mere seconds. Miranda clutched her stomach as though the contents wanted to spew up and out. When she finally spoke, her voice cracked. “He screamed. Yelled I’d spoiled everything with my stupid desire for revenge. Stealing from the museum.” Miranda laughed hysterically. “But he’s the one who planned it. Brought in Davy, Reenie, and the Sloane twins to help. Told them it was just another one of our notorious. . .indiscretions. Then Davy insisted on keeping what he’d stolen and selling it on the black market. I had to stop him.”
“You set off the alarm, didn’t you?”
“I couldn’t let them take my parents’ prized collections.”
“Just as I stopped the same thieves the night of the Masquerade Ball.” Hunter squatted in front of her aunt. “And Davy Jones was the one who attacked me. Dr. Paul was at the ball as well. The inside man directing everything? Getting his second chance at the museum’s treasures?”
“Oh, my god! This can’t be true.”
Hunter pressed. “Where is he, Aunt Miranda?”
Ally spoke. “You know, Miranda, we noticed that the driveway was empty when we arrived. You certainly didn’t walk from town in those heels. Where’s your car?”
“Paul borrowed it.”
“Because the police confiscated his fancy ride.” Ally’s smile slipped sideways. “That’s probably the last we’ll see of him.”
Miranda looked at her watch. “But he’s supposed to return with the car in half an hour.”
“Don’t hold your breath. But just in case. . .” Hunter grabbed a notepad and pen from the kitchen counter. “License plate number?” After Miranda gave her the information, Hunter pulled out her cell and dialed. “Logan? Paul Fleming’s supposed to come for my aunt at the cottage in thirty minutes. He’s driving her black Mercedes.” She gave him the plate number.
“Got it. Hold on.” His voice, muffled briefly, soon cleared. “Patrol cars are headed your way. Stay safe.”
“We’ll be––” She stared at the phone. He’d hung up.
Kat stepped into the light. “Police?”
Hunter nodded. “You heard?”
“Yep. Including Aunt Miranda’s story. I didn’t want to interrupt until she finished.”
“And Twyla?” Ally asked. “Did she give more details about the ghosts and their premonitions of doom for you and Hunter?”
Kat’s eyes sparked. “She never spoke to Aunt Miranda, never told her that Hunter and I had to be split up in order to prevent our deaths.”
CHAPTER
42
T HE AIR TREMBLED and the earth rocked. Nature off balance? Or just me? Hunter glanced toward the window and the lake beyond. Even though the waters lay flat and serene, rocks lurked below the surface, ready to rip apart the unwary.
Ally stomped toward Miranda and breathed heated words in her face. “What’s wrong with you, woman? Don’t you ever get tired of lying your way out of trouble?”
Miranda shook her head but seemed unable to speak. Her mouth chewed the air like a gulping fish.
“Wait.” Hunter put a restraining arm around her friend.
“For what?” Ally demanded. “She’s caused enough grief.”
“I don’t think Aunt Miranda lied.” Hunter smiled at Ally’s eye roll. “Why would she insist we call Twyla if she knew the psychic would deny ever speaking to her?”
“Twyla voiced the same concerns.” Kat glided forward and placed a glass of water in Miranda’s outstretched hand. “She told me to wait while she consulted her crystal ball. That’s why I was on the phone so long.”
“What did she find out?” Hunter asked.
Kat’s voice tightened. “Whoever phoned Miranda imitated Twyla’s voice and mannerisms perfectly.”
“Wouldn’t the impersonator have to know Twyla well enough to do that?” Ally asked.
“Good guess,” Kat said. “And in a community like Mystic Lake, a voice can easily be disguised with magic.”
Miranda’s voice rasped. “Why would anyone do this, tell me such a terrible story?”
“Because the caller wanted to separate Kat and me.”
“Twyla added one more slice of information.” Kat’s eyes glittered as she stared toward Miranda. “She never phoned you about obtaining your mother’s journal.”
The dragon heated Hunter’s fingertips, and the whisperings escalated inside her head. “What were you supposed to do with the book?”
“Hang on to it so you couldn’t use it to precipitate a disaster.” Miranda straightened in the chair. “You think the pseudo-Twyla would then try to steal it from me?”
“Why, Aunt Miranda, you didn’t take long to figure that out.” Kat’s grin had the markings of a Cheshire cat straight from Alice in Wonderland.
“A dangerous enemy,” Hunter said. “One who’s killed already and cast a dark enchantment so I can’t identify him.”
“You think the person who pretended to be Twyla murdered Meredith and Connor?” Miranda’s eyes hardened into flinty green flecks. “Split you two up so you couldn’t combine your magic to uncover the truth?”
Hunter’s mouth gaped opened. How quickly Miranda had put the puzzle together! Suspicion wormed its way in. What if her aunt was playing a role, only appearing to be the victim? Could she have created the puzzle in the first place? But why?
Miranda’s brow furrowed. “We have to find out who did this.”
“That’s why the real Twyla is conducting a séance tomorrow night,” Kat murmured. “She said you may be the strongest tug for the spirits to cross over. Because of your intense relationship.”
“Yowza!” Ally squeaked. “Can ghosts attack those in this world who made them unhappy while they were alive?”
Hunter was sure they could also identify Miranda as the one responsible for their deaths. “Your chance to make amends, Aunt Miranda.”
“I’ll be there.”
The doorbell chimed.
‘Shhh! It might be Dr. Paul.” Hunter tiptoed to the door, amulet gripped firmly. She raised the dragon, ready to fire.
“Open up,” Logan barked.
Relief mixed with warmth. After the emotional upheaval of this evening, the solid sturdiness, the sanctuary, of Logan’s presence, was exactly what Hunter craved. She flung the door wide and flew into his welcoming arms. Joy bubbled. The shadows that previously hovered between them dissipated like a murky fog in the sunlight. She lifted her face toward his. “About time you got here.”
“Guess I’m forgiven.” His mouth crushed against hers, the intensity blasting through both of them, their desire for each other all-consuming. The aching loneliness she’d shoved to the back of her heart burned away.
“Umm…” Lou coughed loudly.
Hunter spoke against Logan’s mouth. “I think we’re embarrassing him.”
“We could ask him to leave,” Logan murmured along her teeth.
She nipped him on the lip. “As well as the crew in the living room?”
Logan shifted his head until his hoarse breaths ruffled against her ear. “One of these days––soon––we’ll finish this.”
Heated by the possibilities, Hunter loosened her hold on him and eased out of his arms. She winked at Lou. “Come join the others.”
When the three of them entered the cottage, Miranda rose from her chair. “Have you found Dr. Fleming?”
“No. He hasn’t phoned?”
She shook her head and looked at her watch. “He was supposed to pick me up ten minutes ago.”
“With the other cars in the drive, he probably won’t show,” Lou said.
Miranda wrung her hands and sat down. “He knows the hotel where I’m staying. He might go there.”
“Which one?” Logan asked. After Miranda told him, he took out his cell, stepped into the kitchen area, and made a call out of earshot. When he finished, he rejoined the others. “I’ve sent some men to stake out the hotel. Lou and I will stay here in case he shows up.”
“Ooh, slumber party?” Ally grinned. “We’ve got lots of popcorn and plenty of cold beer.”
Kat raised an eyebrow. “And a few ghost stories around the campfire?”
Ally laughed and slapped Kat on the shoulder. “You have a sense of humor after all.”
“I can’t possibly stay here.” Miranda stood as if to leave.
Hunter blocked her way. “Nowhere else to go, Aunt Miranda. You have no car.”
“You’ll be safer if you stick with us,” Logan said.
“Safer? Paul wouldn’t harm me.”
“Two other women thought the same, trusted him, and he used poison to silence them. Permanently.” Logan’s voice was grim.
“He wouldn’t do that.”
Hunter gripped her aunt’s shoulders. “Remember your friend Reenie, part of the old gang? She’s one of those victims.”
Miranda inhaled a deep breath. “She’s dead?”
“Her husband took her to the hospital in time.” Logan said.
“Dr. Fleming also blew up his accomplice, Davy Jones,” Hunter added. “Why wouldn’t he get rid of you if he thought you’d talk to the police?”
Miranda dropped in the chair and covered her face with her hands.
CHAPTER 43
A FTER A REFRESHING SHOWER, Hunter tiptoed down the stairs, grimoire tucked under her arm. She wasn’t about to leave it in the bedroom where her aunt still slept. Despite the soul-baring confessions, could Miranda be trusted?
She hadn’t been happy about staying the night without her belongings. Surprisingly, she kept her complaints to a minimum and made herself comfortable in Hunter’s bedroom. The king size bed proved roomy enough for the two of them. Ally and Kat had willingly shared sleeping quarters across the small landing.
With the cottage full of slumbering guests, Hunter had a few moments to ponder what she’d learned and where events seemed to be heading. Caffeine ought to clear the fogginess, recharge her after the emotional eruptions of the last few days.
Pale dawn filtered through the large windows facing the water and allowed Hunter to find the coffee. She made a full pot and put out cups and fixings for the others when they awoke.
Hunter glided noiselessly to the hall closet and withdrew a large navy blue cloth bag. She removed the mirror from the kitchen wall and placed the glass gently in the bag, adding the grimoire. With mug in one hand and satchel over her shoulder, Hunter sidestepped the lumps of bedding where Logan and Lou slept. She slipped out the door and onto the porch.
The sun’s first glow lightened the horizon and sparkled along
the tranquil surface of the lake. Night’s midnight blue had faded to pastel yellows, which bleached the morning sky.
Slogging through each page of the grimoire had been tedious. She sat in one of the white rockers, sipped her coffee, and mulled over possible alternatives for finding the answers.
Use me.
Hunter gagged on her coffee, almost losing her hold on the cup. This new skill of mind linking with the sapphire dragon was disconcerting. But his words inside her head, and the memory of their journey to Cryptic River, confirmed the solution she’d already worked out.
Hunter placed the book on the mirror’s surface and grasped the amulet. Magic cooked along her inner core. She mind linked. Find a spell.
What kind?
How the hell should I know? Whatever it takes to break the curse.
Pages in the grimoire riffled. A blue beam streamed from the amulet and splashed across a seemingly empty page.
Hushed mumblings swished around Hunter. Hark the words of those who succumbed to the dark forces.
Succumbed? Hunter drew a sharp breath. They died?
To safeguard us all.
Her parents had fought and lost. Will their spirits speak to me tonight at the séance?
Whispers tumbled over one another. Use this spell to summon them across the Ethereal Plane. Then ask what power will defeat the accursed black veil obscuring your memories.
Letters spilled across the blank page, wiggling around until words formed into an incantation:
Kindred Souls beyond the Pale,
Come this way, pass through the Veil.
Show me where to find the key
To break this curse that shackles me.
Hunter recited the spell over and over until the words glued themselves in her brain. When she touched the book and mirror, the voices of the Ancients faded.
In their place, muffled footsteps rustled through the grass.
Hunter’s breath caught and her heart thumped as she leaped to her feet. Her hand clutched the dragon, and she braced for an attack.