Four Warned

by Cindy Stark

  She beamed. “As a matter of fact.”

  “Your advice then, Chief Hardy,” he teased.

  “Bring her in for questioning again. Go a little harder on her this time. She doesn’t seem that strong-willed.”

  His grin grew bigger. “Hardline tactics, huh?”

  “Why not? Maybe you should sic Officer Bartles on her.”

  They both laughed, and all seemed right in her world again.

  “Or maybe…” She lifted a finger and pointed it at her temple. “We should look at Rosalinda’s ancestry, too. Maybe there’s a connection there. I’ve been on a roll lately, so why not?”

  He shrugged. “Why not?”

  Hazel retrieved her laptop and took some time first to show him how Sarah’s and her own paths intersected and continue back to Clarabelle.

  Sadness haunted his features, but he gave her a smile anyway. “Maybe that’s why I originally said you reminded me of her.”

  “Maybe so.”

  She reset the search history and typed in Rosalinda Valentine. Married, but her husband had died ten years ago. No children listed.

  Peter touched the screen. “Click there on her mother and siblings.”

  The program revealed her mother had been dead for twenty-two years. She had two sisters, both younger than her and both married.

  Peter snorted. “Well, I’ll be a dead goat’s daddy.”

  His comment ripped her from investigation mode. “You’ll be a what?”

  “A dead goat’s daddy.” He shrugged. “It’s just a saying, Hazel. Don’t worry about it.”

  Okay… She gave a sarcastic blink and returned her focus to the computer.

  Peter tapped the screen again. “Rosalinda’s sister is Lisa Bernard.”

  Pieces clicked, and she turned to him in surprise. “I’ll be a dead goat’s daddy if that’s not Karen Bernard’s mother.”

  “See? You’re getting the hang of it.” He chuckled. “But seriously, yes. That’s her mother’s name. If we’re correct, and I think we are, Rosalinda is the sister of the woman Father Christopher deserted.”

  “And Karen Bernard’s aunt. Wow.”

  Peter scooted his chair back from the table. “I need to bring her into the station and have another chat.”

  Hazel lifted hopeful brows. “Can I come?”

  “You can’t be in the interrogation room, Hazel. You know that.”

  She pouted, and he rolled his eyes.

  “Fine. You can come with, but you’ll have to wait in my office.”

  She jumped up. “Deal.”

  Twenty-Three

  Hazel waited in Peter’s patrol car while he ran inside his house to change into a uniform. Then, because it was during business hours, they headed straight to the church where Rosalinda would likely be instead of her home.

  Peter pulled alongside the road in front of the historical church and parked behind a black Harley. “Looks like your boyfriend is here.”

  She closed her eyes on a long sigh and shook her head. “Why…”

  He jerked open his door and stepped out. “Who cares?”

  He grinned at her through the front windshield as he walked to her side.

  She pondered that for a moment and realized he was right. Who cares?

  Victor was no longer part of her life, and he could only be again if she gave him space in her thoughts. She was so over that.

  She linked hands with Peter as they approached the front door and opened her senses. If Victor was close by, she’d rather know where he was so that she wouldn’t be blindsided when he appeared.

  They found him painting the trim in the hallways near Rosalinda’s office. Even with paint spattered over his clothes and his forearms, he still looked good.

  He stared at Peter for a long moment with a dull expression. Then he turned his gaze to her and smiled. “Hello, goddess.”

  Peter’s fingers tightened around hers, and she yanked in her flailing reserve. She would not let Victor affect her.

  Victor’s gaze slid to Peter again and made her nervous. If he tried another stunt…

  Peter stepped closer to Victor and forced him to lift his gaze higher. “It doesn’t look like Rosalinda is in her office. Do you know where she is?”

  Victor set the paintbrush on a tray and stood. He and Peter were roughly the same height, both dark-haired, both built. One had a heart of gold. The other…she wasn’t sure Victor even had a heart.

  Instead of answering Peter, Victor stared, his gaze challenging Peter’s abilities.

  She could practically taste the thick testosterone pulsing in the air. “Do you know where she is, Victor?”

  He blinked and shifted his gaze to her. “Not sure. She left with Lucy a couple of minutes ago. Rosalinda seemed scared, and Lucy was agitated as—”

  “Thank you, Victor.” She didn’t need him to expound any more than that.

  Peter lifted his chin. “What did Lucy do to make you think she was agitated?”

  Hazel, too, was already reworking her theory about the case. If Lucy was angry and Rosalinda scared, that didn’t bode well for Lucy.

  Victor turned to Hazel. “Is he still talking to me?”

  Her frustration exploded. “Can you just answer the question?”

  He tilted his head to a downward angle and stared at Peter with cold eyes. “They didn’t need to do anything for me to know. I have that ability.”

  Recognition dawned in Peter’s eyes, and he glanced at Hazel in question.

  She wasn’t going to answer. Not here. Not now. “Is there anything else you can tell us, Victor?”

  He released a long-suffering sigh. “Lucy demanded Rosalinda go with her to Gloucester. They were in a hurry. Didn’t even notice me when they left.”

  Peter nodded. “Did you see a gun or other weapon?”

  “No.” The air around Victor tightened, and she feared he was about to let loose some magic.

  She squeezed Peter’s hand to draw his attention. “Let’s go.”

  “Hey,” Victor called after her, and she glanced back. “You’re welcome for that information and for locking those cabinet drawers.”

  Her grateful smile came easily this time. “Thanks.”

  He gave a nod of acceptance.

  She held tight to Peter’s hand as they exited the building, monitoring him for any signs of malevolent activity caused by Victor.

  She frowned at Peter when they were both back in the cruiser. “Gloucester? Why would she take Rosalinda there?”

  Peter started the engine, put the vehicle in drive, and gunned the accelerator. “I don’t know, but I’m going to see if I can catch up to them.”

  He snatched the two-way radio. “This is Police Chief Parrish. I need an APB for two females in a silver, late-model Buick Century. Lucy Flanigan and Rosalinda Valentine. They may possibly be heading toward Gloucester. One of them may be a hostage. Approach with care.”

  The male dispatcher repeated the chief’s request to all units.

  A few moments later, the dispatcher responded, saying an officer had noticed Lucy’s silver sedan stopped at the gas station at the end of town only moments before.

  Peter flipped on his lights and siren. “Got ‘em.”

  He called in to have that unit follow but not engage the suspects. He’d be there momentarily.

  Addictive excitement bubbled inside her as adrenaline flooded her veins. She’d always wondered what it would feel like to be in hot pursuit. “I know this is serious business, and someone’s life might be in danger…but this is awesome.”

  Peter snorted and shook his head. “Some days it is awesome. But not today.”

  No, not today. “Do you think Lucy means to hurt her?”

  He blew out a frustrated breath. “Lord, I hope not. Lucy does own an old rundown cabin where her ex used to go to get drunk and fish. It’s possible they could be headed there.”

  “But why?”

  He slowed to pass cars that had pulled to the side of the road and t
hen sped up again. “That’s the question.”

  A quarter mile past the gas station, she noticed a police cruiser ahead of them. “Look.”

  “I see them.” He pressed harder on the accelerator.

  The first unit slowed to let Peter pass and soon he was directly behind Lucy’s car. Hazel shot a concerned glance toward Peter. “They aren’t stopping.”

  “Don’t worry. They won’t get away.”

  He swung out around them, and Hazel shifted her gaze to the occupants in the other car. Lucy had her eyes glued to the road ahead while Rosalinda seemed to be yelling at her.

  “Hang on,” Peter said as he passed them and then cut to the lane in front of them. Slowly, he decreased his speed, and Hazel caught sight of the other police cruiser bringing up the rear with lights blazing.

  When Peter had almost stopped, Lucy pulled off the side of the road causing her front bumper to dip down into the ditch.

  Peter shoved the car into park and swung open his door. He unsnapped the strap holding his gun in place. “Stay here.”

  “Be careful,” she whispered, but he’d already shut the door.

  She released the seatbelt and turned to look over the seat toward the action. As he approached the car, her heart and brain agreed for once to note being in danger was a part of his life, and if she wanted him in hers, she’d have to accept it.

  That didn’t mean she couldn’t layer him with a ton of protection spells before he walked out the door each morning. She wished she’d thought to give him Cora’s medallion before he’d gotten out of the car.

  Rosalinda’s door opened, and she made a run for it. She scurried right past Hazel’s window with low heels wobbling on the uneven ground and crazy eyes focused on the road ahead.

  Hazel snorted in disbelief and tried not to laugh at the sad, but humorous sight. A few seconds later, an officer from the second car dashed after her. Hazel watched as he struggled to subdue her and finally had to force her to the ground.

  With Lucy and Rosalinda both in custody, she shoved open her door and stepped out.

  The defeated expression on Lucy’s face broke her heart.

  Peter frowned at Hazel, but she could see no reason to stay in the car. None of them seemed to be in immediate danger.

  When Lucy caught sight of Hazel, she shook her head and dropped her gaze to the ground. Hazel hurried toward them.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” Lucy said with a gruff voice. “You don’t need to see this.”

  Rosalinda shook her head, anger pouring off her like lava from a volcano. “None of us should be here. Would be here, if not for your stupidity, Lucy.”

  Lucy shot a vengeful look toward her. “Shut up, Rosalinda. I was fine until you dredged up all that nasty business with Father Christopher. I’d put my past behind me. Now look what you’ve done.”

  Peter took hold of Lucy’s elbow. “Come on.”

  He guided her toward the back door of his car, opened it and helped her inside. The second officer, a new guy on Peter’s team, ushered Rosalinda to the opposite side.

  Hazel climbed in the car before Rosalinda had reached the passenger door.

  She shifted to look toward the backseat. “What is she talking about, Lucy? What nasty business?”

  Rosalinda scoffed as she was forced inside. “Don’t say anything more, Lucy. You’ll only make it worse.”

  “It’s already worse, Rosalinda. They’ve figured us out. It’s over.”

  Hazel tried to sense what stirred beneath the conversation, but too many emotions bounced all over the place like ping pong balls. “Tell me you didn’t kill Father Christopher, Lucy.”

  Lucy stared, her once bright aura now nearly black. “I’ve done some bad things, Hazel. We both have.”

  Peter entered the car as Lucy finished her sentence. He shoved his keys into the ignition and started the cruiser. “I’ll remind you both. You’ve been read your Miranda rights. Anything you say can and will be used against you in court.”

  “See,” Rosalinda hissed.

  Lucy folded her arms across her large chest. “Shut up, Rosalinda.”

  Hazel straightened in her seat and glanced toward Peter. She wished he’d let them keep talking, but she could understand that he’d been trying to give them the best chance at what the future would bring.

  But she had questions. So many questions.

  Epilogue

  Hazel waited on a bench outside the charming building that housed the police station, enjoying the pinks and oranges of dusk painted across the sky as the sun said goodnight. A cool breeze teased her senses, dancing through her curls and bringing the lush scent of freshly mowed grass to her. An owl hooted in greeting, and she scanned her surroundings looking for it.

  She’d always loved this time of night, when the bright world began to settle and the mysteries would peek out from the shadows.

  She’d ended up working most of the day while Peter was privy to all the details about the case that she was dying to know. He’d finally messaged her not long ago, asking if she wanted to meet for an evening stroll.

  Of course, the answer was yes.

  At the sound of footsteps behind her, she turned and watched as the man who’d stolen her heart stepped from the building.

  “Hey, beautiful,” he said in a low voice.

  “Hey, handsome,” she returned.

  She stood when he reached her. “Long day. Did you get everything sorted?”

  He released a weighted sigh and slipped his fingers through hers. “Some. I’m sure not all though. These people have created a spider web of their lives. All are trapped, and none will be the same afterward.”

  He directed them across the street toward the nearest park. She’d never strolled through it after dark and found she loved its shadow side.

  Still, her heart was heavy with the day’s events. “Does this mean Lucy did kill Father Christopher?”

  “Yeah,” he answered with his voice full of sadness. “But Rosalinda helped.”

  “Both of them? I mean I could tell from what Rosalinda said in the car that she wasn’t completely innocent, but I thought maybe she was covering for Lucy.”

  “Nope. Lucy made the tart, but Rosalinda was the mastermind behind it. She played on Lucy’s pain, ripping open old scars and rubbing past thorns in deep.”

  He tugged her off the path toward a bench that overlooked the stream. At night, she couldn’t see much of the water, but the cheerful gurgling sounds seemed more prominent. “Let’s sit and breathe some of this fresh air.”

  She sat next to him on the bench, and he wrapped his arm around her.

  After watching him in action that day, she appreciated his strength more than ever. “I’m guessing Rosalinda was motivated by what Father Christopher had done to her sister.”

  He nodded. “From what Rosalinda told us, her sister Lisa was a beautiful girl excited to attend college. She’d met Father Christopher, before he was a priest, while she was working at a fast food place near both of their schools. He’d charmed her and then gotten her pregnant. Sadly, her parents kicked her out, leaving Rosalinda’s sister to fend for herself and her little one. Apparently, her sister has struggled ever since, often turning to drugs and alcohol.”

  “Not a good life for a child.”

  “Nope.”

  She wished she could curse him. “After all the bad things he did to others, I hope if there’s a hell, he’s rotting there.”

  “I’m sure he is.” He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. “Rosalinda was the one who finally tracked him down and moved here. Karen followed, hoping her mother had lied about him. When she discovered she hadn’t, her life basically went downhill as well.”

  Sad how one person could destroy so many. “Lucy was a friend to Karen, though.”

  “Which was Lucy’s downfall. If not for that, Rosalinda wouldn’t have been able to drag her back in. But her heart broke for poor Karen, and after what Father Christopher had put Lucy through during her mar
riage, I guess it was enough to send her over the edge.”

  That broke Hazel’s heart more than anything. “Do you think the courts will show her leniency because of Rosalinda’s manipulations?”

  He hugged her tighter against him. “I wish I could say yes, but that’s not up to me. Let’s hope so.”

  “Yes,” she murmured. “Let’s hope so.”

  They sat that way for a long time, both breathing in the cleansing night air.

  “I’m glad my life isn’t that convoluted.”

  He snorted. “You’re not serious, right?”

  “Of course, I’m serious. My life is good. I have you, my teashop, and an ornery old cat to love.”

  “You seem to be forgetting you’re a witch in a town full of witch-haters.”

  She leaned her head against him. “I have hopes that may change one day.”

  “That would be nice.”

  She shifted to catch his gaze. “Hey, what about Karen? Did Lucy or Rosalinda give you any idea what made her crash that day? Suicide because she hated her life?”

  “Nope. No clue. Both were certain she’d never do such a thing, and we found no suicide note. Mechanics couldn’t find anything wrong with her car that might have caused her to lose control.”

  She sighed and leaned back against him. “Perhaps it’s the May Day Curse after all.”

  He chuckled. “If you believe in that sort of thing.”

  Unfortunately, she was beginning to believe more and more. What could her ancestor have possibly done to punish the town all those years ago? She desperately wanted to find out. And fix it. Because Stonebridge spoke to her deep down, in her heart. It had become her home.

  She glanced at the man by her side whose tapestry threads had intertwined so sweetly and securely with hers. And in that moment, following her heart, she felt as if she were capable of anything she desired. And what she desired was to live peaceably here, a good witch living among the townspeople in harmony. And to do that, she must locate the other witches to help undo the angry spells cast upon Stonebridge by her coven sisters three hundred years ago.

  Peter squeezed her hand, and she turned to him, reminded of what the ancient spell books said: Better to follow your heart, or you’re already dead.