by Cindy Stark
As if she could. Still, she knew a losing battle when she saw one and refused to allow him to keep her sucked in any longer. Indifference would be her constant companion until Victor left. “Whatever. Just stay out of my way, and leave my best friend alone.”
Ten
Hazel’s thoughts tortured her the entire night. By the time morning arrived, she struggled to make her brain work, but she was grateful she didn’t have to try to sleep any longer.
Was Victor outside her house?
Should she tell Peter about him or hope that he’d leave before Peter discovered his existence?
Then again Peter knew everything about this town. She’d have to explain her former relationship with Victor, but how exactly did she do that?
Was she delusional to think she could have a relationship with a regular guy in a town like this?
Round and around her thoughts went. If she didn’t stop, her head would likely explode.
She arrived at work early. Packed her deliveries for the day, and then tried to decide on another iced tea she might like to try, but her creative brain cells were non-existent, probably still back in her room snoozing.
Gretta arrived at work on time, looking as perky as ever with a crisp white blouse and an enviable handbag the color of watermelon. “Looks like you’re already ready to go.”
“Yep,” Hazel answered as she pulled her phone from below the counter and tucked it in her pocket. She turned to face Gretta, and a flash of green dropped from Gretta’s hand onto the floor below. A splooshing sound registered milliseconds before water sprinkled onto her toes and sandals, and she discovered a deflated green balloon resting near her feet.
She lifted her gaze to Gretta. “What the heck?”
“Oh, sorry. It slipped.”
Her assistant was the worst liar ever, given away by the purple that surrounded the yellow in her aura. Hazel widened her eyes. “It slipped?”
Gretta nodded.
She had no time or patience for nonsense this morning. “It didn’t slip, Gretta. Tell me why you’re dropping a water balloon on my feet.”
She hesitated, looking guiltier than sin. “It was slippery.”
Hazel dropped her head into her hand and sighed. Things in Stonebridge were getting out of hand. She met Gretta’s gaze straight on. “Did there happen to be holy water in that balloon?”
Gretta’s expression fell. “I’m so sorry, Hazel. Timothy has everyone spooked, and some kids were selling these out in front of the library. I decided to be safe and buy one for all the people I hang out with. You can’t be too careful, you know?” She opened her bag to show Hazel a large stash of colorful balloons.
She couldn’t bring herself to berate Gretta for something she didn’t understand. “Well, now that it’s obvious I’m not Satan’s spawn, would you mind grabbing some paper towels from the back so I can wipe my feet? I’ll let you clean up the mess on the floor.”
“Of course. I’m so sorry.” She hurried into the back room and came out with a wad of paper towels. She shoved some at Hazel. “I feel like an idiot now.”
Hazel shook her head and tried to pretend everything was cool. “Maybe I should stop and get some balloons myself.”
Gretta nodded encouragingly before she knelt to wipe water. “You probably should. Those kids are making bank, but it helps us all.”
She might do that after all. Her purchase would look good to the residents. She could throw them at the jerks in town and still seem perfectly reasonable.
Perhaps they’d give her a discount for a bulk purchase, and she could use them to chase Victor out of town. He hated getting wet once he was dressed.
Hazel wiped her toes, tossed the towels, and scooped up her packages. “If you could spread the word that you tested me and I’m fine, I’d appreciate it. The last thing I need is to be pelted by others.”
Gretta gave her a sheepish grin. “I’ll be sure to do that.”
“Thanks.” Hazel left the shop hoping the rest of her day would be better than the first.
Pedaling around Stonebridge in the morning sunshine refreshed her much more than her restless night’s sleep. By the time she dropped off four deliveries and then stopped at the old church, she was a new woman. She might run out of steam long before bedtime, but she was good for now.
She parked her bike, lifted her last package, and headed for the church’s rough-hewn wooden doors. The one she tugged on opened without a squeak. She stepped inside and discovered absolute quiet, marred only by the loud thumping of her heart.
She’d never been particularly bothered by churches before. To each his own, she believed. But the hatred in this town that had soaked into the walls of the church years ago, still clung to the atmosphere today. She was sure the Sons of Stonebridge encouraged it.
The doors to the chapel were open, and she walked closer, peering inside. Pews were encased in rich-looking wooden boxes that separated them from others. Arched windows filled the room with sunshine that sent shards of light raining from the massive chandelier. The history that resided in the building amazed her.
Growing up, she’d loved learning about the patriots who had inhabited the same land she walked on, and she knew not all those people hated witches. Most probably didn’t pay them much mind, if they even believed they existed.
But the ones who did harbor ill will toward witches had sure caused much tragedy.
Footsteps behind her drew her attention, and she turned.
The mild-mannered church secretary smiled in greeting. “Hazel. Welcome.” Rosalinda walked forward with outstretched hands.
Hazel took them and squeezed, sending love and light to her friend. “This is a magnificent building. So much history.”
Rosalinda glanced about the chapel and nodded. “I always did love working here. At times, I could find the most amazing peace. Especially when the Father was out.”
There was obviously no love lost between Rosalinda and Father Christopher.
She met Hazel’s gaze and grinned. “Come in my office so I can pay you.”
Hazel walked reverently across the polished wooden floors. Impressions of many people bumped against her, so much that she eventually blocked them out.
Rosalinda led her into a section of the church that had been added on during later years, and then into a small, sparsely furnished but well-organized office. “Have a seat. This will just take me a second.” She opened a bottom drawer and pulled out her wallet.
Hazel glanced about while Rosalinda retrieved her money. The sight of Lucy’s name on a handwritten list on the desk caught her attention. Dan Cullpepper. Mayor Elwood, Lucy—
Rosalinda slipped the paper off her desk before she could continue reading and into a drawer. Hazel’s cheeks heated with embarrassment, but at least Rosalinda hadn’t commented on Hazel’s rudeness.
“I could send you a monthly bill if you like,” Hazel offered, trying to pretend the last thirty seconds hadn’t happened.
Rosalinda gave her a gentle smile, and Hazel felt no anger or hostility for being nosy. “No, I don’t mind paying each week. It will give us a chance to chat.”
Hazel wasn’t surprised. Wanting to visit when she dropped off deliveries seemed to be a common thread among most of her clients.
Hazel knew she’d been gifted with the ability to sense others’ emotions better than most. She’d often been told she had a calming, empathetic presence, so it made sense people wanted to talk to someone who understood them.
Hazel shrugged, pretending that darned piece of paper Rosalinda had slid into the drawer wasn’t calling her name. “Then that works well for me, too. I love getting out and meeting the community.”
Rosalinda slid the money across the desk and gave her a warm smile. “You’ve been here only a few months, but you’ve fit right in, and we love having you. We can’t say that about everyone.”
Hazel chuckled. “Well, if it helps you to know, Gretta doused me with holy water this morning just to be sure I was safe to
be around.”
Rosalinda gasped, but Hazel sensed laughter along with it. “She didn’t.”
“Oh, yeah. She did.” Hazel gave a good show of resigned acceptance. “Dropped a water balloon right on my bare toes. If I’d have known what she was up to, I would have dropped to my knees or screamed to scare her.”
Rosalinda didn’t laugh like Hazel thought she would. “That would be funny, but I wouldn’t mess around with stuff like this. I’ve been in Stonebridge long enough to see people go crazy.”
The woman was certainly old enough to have witnessed plenty. “Were you here, then, during the last May Day death?”
“Sure was,” Rosalinda replied. “I’d been married maybe a year when it happened. The whole town was on edge with accusations flying left and right.”
Hazel’s brain flooded with thoughts. “Timothy isn’t old enough to remember, is he?”
“No. He wouldn’t have been born yet.”
Hazel reminded herself to tread carefully when talking about Timothy to Rosalinda. “You two seem to be good friends.”
The older woman’s gaze turned thoughtful. “Hmm… I wouldn’t say good friends. Friendly, for sure. He comes to church a lot, so I’ve gotten to know him somewhat. Nice enough man when he keeps his paranoia under control.”
Hazel gave her a sympathetic nod. “It’s hard when we live in fear of witches nesting in our town.” She might as well start using their lingo.
“Very true, young lady. We need to protect our own.” Rosalinda dropped her wallet back in the drawer and closed it. “Your cute man was here a while ago.”
“Here?” Peter had said he didn’t have much use for church after his wife died. “Just to pay a visit?”
Rosalinda gave her a conspiratorial smile. “No. He was asking questions about anyone who might have had issues with Father Christopher.”
She should act uninterested, thank Rosalinda for her order, and be on her way. But the curiosity bubbling inside her kept her firmly planted where she was. “Did you mention anyone?”
“I told him what I could. Poor Lucy doesn’t deserve to take the fall for this, when it could have been so many other people. People who would have had an opportunity to mess with Lucy’s strawberry tart.”
“So, you’re thinking that it would have made an easy target? I mean, Lucy had been bragging for days about presenting Father Christopher with a deliciously large strawberry tart.”
Rosalinda nodded. “I would say it’s highly possible, and I told Peter the same thing. Really, though, I think it might be the May Day Curse, and no one is guilty.”
Then the woman’s expression dropped, and she blinked rapidly. “I’m an awful person, Hazel. I’m so grateful he’s no longer with us. I wish I would have done something about Father Christopher a long time ago. I kept my mouth shut about church matters but maybe I shouldn’t have.”
The outpouring of regret surprised Hazel. She reached across the desk and covered the poor woman’s hand. “I’m sure you did the best you could and what you thought was right at that moment. Hindsight is a wonderful thing, but, unfortunately, it’s not available to us in advance.”
“They should choose you as the new priest. You’re one of the most compassionate, understanding people I’ve met in my lifetime. Having someone like you to lead us would do wonders for this town.”
Hazel laughed at the absurdity. “I’m not so sure about that. Besides, I have a hard time finding God’s spirit inside the walls of a church.”
Rosalinda widened her eyes as though Hazel had just told her a juicy secret. “Be careful who you say those words to. Some might misunderstand your meaning.”
Hazel was well aware of that fact. “Yes, I know. Before all this happened, Lucy had invited Cora and me to attend church with her, and I’d considered it. Maybe I will again once everything settles down.”
She couldn’t ever see that happening, not unless she was forced to attend to save her reputation.
“Well,” Rosalinda said with a kind smile. “You’ve been doused and passed with flying colors, so you’ll be fine for now. We’ll worry about your soul later.”
Hazel tucked the money Rosalinda had given her into her shoulder bag and stood. “Thanks again for your regular order. I’ll see you next week, if not sooner around town.”
“I look forward to it. I can tell already that we’re going to be very good friends.”
Hazel wished she could say she felt the same, but it was impossible to truly let someone see her heart when she knew they wouldn’t approve.
Eleven
Peter had suggested dinner at her house one night that week, but Hazel decided burgers on the fly for lunch was a much better idea since she could no longer wait to talk to him.
She checked with Margaret to ensure Peter was in the office and hadn’t eaten yet. After that, she followed up with a phone call to Gretta informing her she’d be in later, and then she headed to Cora’s.
Hazel placed her order with Bertie and then searched out her friend and found her in the storage room taking inventory.
Cora glanced up and smiled. “Hey, lady. What are you doing here? And more importantly, what happened with that cute guy last night?”
She gave Cora a look that suggested she might have lost some brain cells. “Didn’t you hear what I said to you then?”
Cora looked at her the same way. “You spouted some nonsense about a scoundrel in England. Who even uses that word? Then you grabbed his arm and took off. I should remind you that you’re the one who needs to be careful since you already have a boyfriend.”
Hazel stared at her in shock for a moment and then started laughing. “Oh, Blessed Mother. He hexed you.”
“What?” Denial scattered around them like marbles dropping to the floor. “No, he didn’t.”
Hazel held her gaze and gave her several slow emphatic nods. “Did he mention he’s a witch? Did he mention he’s one of the most powerful male witches around?”
Hazel’s voice turned snarky. “Also, did he mention that he used to be my boyfriend until he cheated on me?”
Cora blinked several times, and her eyes grew clearer. “What a creep.” She paused and then nodded. “I think the jerk did put a hex on me. I can feel it.”
Hazel gave a sarcastic laugh. “He’s good, and when I say good, I mean trouble.”
Cora lifted a hand and let it drop in defeat. “I can’t believe I didn’t see that coming. I should have known he was too good to be true.”
“I hear ya, girlfriend. Just be glad you didn’t fall in love before you found out what he was and he broke your heart.”
She huffed, sounding disappointed. “No kidding. Why is he here anyway? Did he come searching for you?”
Hazel rolled her eyes, still angry. “My beloved, loyal mother, of all people, sent him here to check on me.”
Cora tucked in her lips as though she was repressing a grin. “Ouch. There didn’t seem to be any love lost between you two last night.”
Hazel shook her head repeatedly. “Oh, he’d get back together in an instant if I’d agree. Just so long as I don’t mind other women, which shouldn’t matter because his relationships with them would all be purely physical with no feelings involved. According to him, that is.”
“Wow. He’s a real piece of work. Which is a shame because he’s hotter than hot.”
“I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to hear another word about him, and I hope I never see him again.”
Cora’s expression grew dreamy. “Such a waste of perfectly good man-flesh.”
“Man-flesh?” She snorted. “Please. You wouldn’t want a delicious-looking, sugar and cinnamon sprinkled cream puff if it was filled with rotting fish from the docks.”
She wrinkled her nose in fake disappointment. “I could still lick the outside.”
Hazel laughed at her tenacity. “No wonder we women are always finding ourselves in trouble with the wrong man.”
“It’s true,” Cora agreed. “We fall
for the delicious outside every time. Speaking of hot guys, what’s up with yours? I can’t imagine he’s happy about…”
“Victor. I’m sure he wouldn’t be, but I haven’t told him yet.”
“Oh, sugar, you had better not wait on that. A hot ex in town can be hard on a budding relationship.”
Budding? She wanted to remind Cora she was the one who’d said their threads were already deeply intertwined. Instead, she sighed. “I’m actually headed there now. I figured I’d soften him up with a hamburger.”
“Should have gone for the roast beef sandwich.”
Hazel groaned. “Didn’t think of that. Well, it can be my back up plan for later if this doesn’t work. I wanted to ask him about the murder investigation, too. I was just at the church talking with Rosalinda, and it made me curious.”
“I thought you were staying away from all that stuff.”
She blinked away from Cora’s discerning gaze. “Me, too, but it’s impossible to not think about everything.”
Cora snickered. “Yeah, I figured you wouldn’t last long.”
She wanted to argue that she wasn’t that predictable, but she probably was. “Let me ask you first, since you know Lucy pretty well.”
“I’ll tell you right off the bat before you ask anything about her, she’s helped me out numerous times. She has a heart of gold, and she’s not a murderer.”
Hazel hated to think the worst of her, too. “I know she’s a wonderful person, and I feel terrible about the position she’s in. Half the town is against her, and the other half doesn’t believe she’s capable of murder. I know she had trouble with Father Christopher and that it had something to do with marital counseling, but I have no idea what happened.”
Cora set her clipboard down and dropped her pencil on top of it. “Let’s go sit on the bench outside. I need some fresh air.”
They wound their way through the café and out the front door where they both claimed spots on a nearby bench. The scent of fresh dirt and petunias encircled Hazel, and she inhaled until her lungs were full. A few cars drove by and a couple of tourists walked the cobblestone sidewalks, but not enough to disturb their privacy.