by J. D. Shaw
“You can stay in here and get warm while I try to jimmy the lock open for you.”
“I won’t say no to that offer.” She smiled back.
He left the patrol car and walked toward her vehicle with a flashlight in hand.
The heat felt wonderful on her hands as she cupped them over the vents and looked out the window at her car. Officer Greg walked in front of her and suddenly stopped in his tracks. He directed the flashlight into the car and then walked slowly over to the passenger side. She felt for the window button and lowered it. “What’s wrong?”
He shook his head at her. “Looks like someone broke into the other side.”
She fumbled for the door handle and with some effort extracted herself from the vehicle. “What?”
Officer Greg walked toward her. “Like I said earlier, it’s a full moon.” He shined his flashlight into the car and examined the damage.
She looked into the driver’s side window and saw the shattered bits of broken glass all over the passenger seat. Her purse was tipped over, the contents spilled all over the seats and floor mats. She saw her wallet, her cell phone, but not a trace of the grimoire. “I don’t believe this.”
Greg walked up next to her. “I’ll call it in.”
“Can I check my purse to see if anything’s been taken?” She asked.
“I’d leave it as is until we write it up.”
She took a deep breath and nodded. “I used to think full moons were romantic. Now, I think I’ve had enough of them.”
“Tell me about it.” Officer Greg picked up his hand radio and called the incident into headquarters.
Vivienne looked up at the moon that was playing peek-a-boo with the clouds. Had her attacker stolen the grimoire from her car? To most people it just appeared to be a blank journal of no value. But, whoever had attacked her had called her a witch and she suddenly felt more vulnerable than ever. If they could read the spells inside it, what would they do with the power? She didn’t want to know the answer. She just wanted to go home, soak in a hot bath, and put on her flannel nightgown. It was what she should have done in the first place.
Chapter 19
Without explanation, the car started up just fine for Officer Greg. She gave up trying to find an explanation for that and just chalked it up to one of life’s little flukes. The incident report had taken less time and hassle than she imagined it would, which was a good thing as her energy was fading fast as the night wore on. She would have to drop by Harrison Insurance in the morning to put in her damage claim, but at least she was able to drive away and return to the safety of her little Cape Cod home on Sunset Terrace.
The heater in her car didn’t keep the chill off from the loss of the window, now covered up with thick plastic wrap she had left in the backseat for wrapping up baked goods. Officer Greg had done his best to rig a temporary fix to keep any moisture out should it rain overnight.
Upon returning home, she greeted Tom Cat and filled his dish with dry cat food. He sniffed it and turned away, rubbing against her legs with a loud purr.
“Not right now.” She gave his head a scratch and went to fill the tub with warm water and soak for a good while. Buried deep in lavender-scented bubbles, she rolled a towel up and created a pillow to lay her head against and let the warmth sooth her aches and pains.
She closed her eyes but the image of the shadow attacker kept leaping into her mind. No napping in the tub this time. Given her luck lately, she’d be one of those unfortunate souls who slid under and drowned. Instead, she reached for her soft pink bath mitt and slowly massaged her arms and legs. She groaned now and then when a sharp pain erupted from her movements, but this would help her tomorrow when she had to tackle another day of dealing with the bakery and the loss of her grimoire.
Feeling a bit like a prune, she exited the bath which had gradually grown cool. She wrapped herself up in the fluffiest bath towel she could find in the linen closet and used the vanity mirror to see how bad her scrapes and bruises were. She was happy to discover that other than a scraped right knee, a small cut on her left elbow, and some redness around her neck, she didn’t look all that bad. It could have been so much worse, she thought as she slipped into a white flannel nightgown with little blue flowers that Nora gave her for Christmas. After all, she could be wearing a toe tag in the morgue.
She crawled between the soft cotton sheets on her queen sized bed and was soon joined by Tom Cat who jumped onto the bottom corner and made a nest with the rumpled comforter. As he groomed himself and scratched his ears with his back paw, she hoped that a flea circus wasn’t laying down tent stakes for an extended run.
That night, she dreamt of being lost in a long corridor filled with red doors that seemed impossibly tall. They were narrow and instead of numbers had strange symbols much like those in the grimoire. She twisted at the knobs to peek inside, but they all proved to be locked.
Frustrated, she walked further down the hall and suddenly one solitary door opened by itself with a creaking groan. She felt a blast of cold air against her nightgown.
With a pause, she contemplated going in. As so often happened in dreams, she was suddenly transported inside the room against her will. The room was black and void of any furniture. A single light bulb, dim and suspended on a long chain, swung back and forth in the cold breeze. A humanoid figure shivered under a gray blanket. It looked like a woman, sitting with her legs folded. Loud sobs could be heard from under the cover and Vivienne was compelled to pull the blanket away.
She found Mona Clarke staring back at her. She was pale and dressed in a simple black dress. In her hands, she held tight to a bouquet of calla lilies. “Don’t let them do it.” She whispered.
Vivienne knelt down to Mona. “Let who do what?”
Mona looked at the calla lilies in her hand as they burst into flame. She released the flowers, which caught the blanket on fire and forced Vivienne to back away. “Don’t let them do it.” She repeated.
Vivienne watched in terror as the flaming blanket swirled around and morphed into a large stake. Mona was now tied to it, the flames surrounding her as strange voices shouted from the darkness.
Vivienne awoke from the dream with a start, nearly tossing the pillows around her to the floor in terror. She was covered in sweat, her legs knotted up in the sheets. Releasing herself from the tangled sheets, she was happy to see the morning light glowing softly through the bedroom windows.
After a quick shower, she hopped into a pair of casual sweats that she used for those times when she’d be baking up a storm and covered with spilled ingredients. Tom Cat eagerly ate his breakfast of dry food as she swallowed her daily vitamins and tossed in an aspirin for good measure.
She was out the door and on the road in her newly vandalized car before eight. Her first stop, at Harrison Insurance, would prove brief as Matt Harrison was always open well before his posted business hours. She found a prime parking space on Main Street and stepped into the nicely furnished office where his receptionist was busy watering the dish gardens lining the front windows.
After a brief description of her troubles last night, Matt put in her claim and informed her to get two estimates of repair. She was back in the Sweet Dreams kitchen by quarter to nine, armed with a slew of recipe cards and dry ingredients. She went about organizing the baked goods according to baking times and started the mixers.
The morning sunlight streamed into the front windows, which had fogged up from the ovens going at full blast. She found that the work definitely helped to take her mind off the events of last night. She lost herself in busy work such as measuring flour and whisking egg whites. There were so many steps to each process and one little screw up could easily spell disaster.
The events of last night had drained much of her energy and she began to question the sanity of trying to run a business solo.
As she popped the first of six dozen peanut butter cookies into the oven, she suddenly had a burst of insight. Stephanie Bridgeman. The sweet girl did her best as a w
aitress, but it was only a matter of time before all her mistakes caught up and Clara’s patience wore thin. Despite her performance waiting tables, she proved with the deli spirals that she had a knack for detail and that was just what Vivienne needed.
She was certain that offered the chance to do something creative, Stephanie would accept the position without hesitation. The only problem would be approaching Clara. Much like her Mother Nora, she usually wasn’t all that attached to something until someone else expressed an interest.
Vivienne recalled so many spring cleaning adventures of the past as she helped to clear out the spare bedroom in her old home, only to have her hands tied up when she tried to throw anything away. Who did latch hook anymore? Nora decided she would get around to opening that package with the sad clown picture from the late seventies eventually. Sequined blouses with shoulder pads? Nora insisted that they’d be gracing the cover of Vogue magazine any month now. Oddball kitchen gadgets from late night infomercials? They worked nicely for forgotten birthday gifts.
She would have to approach Clara with the same psychology she used with Nora. Convince her that the entire thing was her brilliant idea and offer to help put their plan into action. It wasn’t going to be easy. Given the amount of work needed to run her business, Vivienne would have to act fast.
The cell phone in her purse blasted its annoying basic ring and she saw Nora’s number appear on the screen. “Mother, I was just thinking about you.”
Nora’s voice was shaky. “I’m afraid I have some bad news dear. It’s about Nana Mary.”
Vivienne went numb inside. “What’s happened?”
“She’s missing.” Nora replied, her voice nearly cutting off as she choked back tears.
“Missing? I don’t understand.”
There was a pause as Nora blew her nose. “I received a phone call from Whispering Oaks this morning. They’ve had the police out all night searching for her.”
Vivienne’s mind whirled around with possible scenarios. “Maybe she went to visit a friend and forgot to tell them?”
“The housekeeping staff found her apartment in disarray.” Nora explained. “Her bed wasn’t slept in, her microwave dinner was still sitting on the counter, pills all over the kitchen, and there were books scattered everywhere. They think she may have had a ‘sundowner’ incident.”
Vivienne had heard of that terrible affliction. It was usually related to patients who were suffering with Alzheimer’s disease. She had read an article that explained a theory that all of the sensory stimulation during the day overwhelmed and caused confusion and stress in the evening. Those afflicted could become angry, depressed, even hallucinate all through the night until morning when the symptoms mysteriously disappeared. “But Nana Mary doesn’t have dementia.”
“She is declining.” Nora replied. “As much as it pains me to admit it, she’s been having more and more moments of confusion.”
“So where is she? Where have they checked so far?” Vivienne felt the need to jump into her car and start looking.
Nora blew her nose again. “I don’t know. I’m just a wreck sitting here not knowing what’s going on.”
“I’m going to call Joshua and find out.” Vivienne went over to the ovens and turned them off. “You stay home and call me if you hear anything.”
“I will.” Nora ended the call.
Vivienne reached behind her waist and untied the apron that was stained with peanut butter and flour. She dialed Joshua’s cell number but only got his voicemail. “Nana Mary is missing from her apartment and I’m going to look for her. Call me as soon as you get this.” She was about to end the call when she stopped herself. “I love you.” She added.
As she drove along the streets of Cayuga Cove, she was haunted by the memory of her attack, the dream of Mona, and now the disappearance of Nana Mary. It was all just too much to deal with. She held tight to the wheel as she drove a little too fast with no particular destination in mind.
She had always thought of her hometown as a particularly dull place where change came gradually if at all. No one was ever in a hurry to jump onto the latest fad. Chain restaurants and super retail stores didn’t bother to expand into the sleepy hamlet. It had been an ideal place to live and work, where you could still sit on your front porch swing and watch the world go by. Now, she felt as if she had taken it all for granted. There was a darker side to Cayuga Cove and lately it seemed to be getting bolder in showing itself.
Without thinking, she came to a dead end at the park located at the end of Lakeshore Drive. She pulled into the deserted parking lot and stepped out from the car into the morning sunshine.
The lake sparkled as gentle waves lapped at the shoreline. It was the deep blue color she had always known, but now it seemed colder and darker than her memory recalled. What secrets lay at the bottom? Rotting wrecks of sunken ferries that used to transport salt mined from under the lake? Jewelry and coins dropped from speedboat passengers out on a joyride? Perhaps, even a few skeletons from murdered souls who were still listed as missing.
She walked over to one of the small pavilions in the picnic area and sat down at a table. There were initials and hearts carved into the wood. Some were from this year, others from years past. There were anniversary dates, summer flings, and even some phones numbers begging to be called for a good time. Without warning, tears began to cloud her vision and she took a moment to have a good cry.
As the tears streamed down her cheeks, she thought of her last visit with Nana Mary. Why didn’t she take the time to visit more often? Why didn’t she ask more questions about her life, her loves, and even her magic? She regretted not being able to ever have these answered. They would forever remain a mystery.
“What are you crying about honey?” A feminine voice asked from behind her.
She jumped up in surprise to see a young blond woman wearing a blue scarf over her head and a pair of over-sized sunglasses. Dressed in a pair of faded denim jeans and a simple white shirt, she seemed oddly familiar. “I’m sorry. I thought I was the only one here.”
The woman tipped her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose and smiled. “It’s too nice of a day to be crying on the lakeshore by yourself.”
Vivienne wiped the tears from her damp face and nodded. “It is a nice day.”
“So what has you so rattled?” The woman sat down across the table from her and removed her eyewear.
“Someone I love is missing and I don’t think it’s going to end well.” She choked up a bit but managed to keep the tears from flowing again. “Everything in my life just seems to be falling apart lately.”
“I’m so sorry. Have you checked with Joshua?” The woman asked.
“My call went to his voicemail and I haven’t…” Vivienne paused. “What did you say?”
“Your boyfriend is named Joshua and your name is Vivienne Finch. Am I right?” The woman interrupted.
“Yes.” Vivienne sniffled. “Have we met before?”
“Yes, too many times to count. You could even call it magical.” The stranger replied.
Vivienne squinted as the visage of the woman began to blur and changed into that of Nana Mary. “It can’t be.”
“It’s me, darling granddaughter.” Nana Mary smiled back. “I’m sorry to scare you like that but I didn’t have a choice.”
“How did you?” Vivienne was at a loss for words. Instead, she jumped up from the table and hugged her. “I thought you were dead.”
“It’s called a glamour spell.” Nana Mary waved her hands around like a model showing off a prize on a game show.
“How is it I can see you as you really are?” Vivienne asked.
“Mortal senses are all easy to fool if you know how to. But a witch’s senses are more highly tuned. Your eyes and ears are fooled for a short time, but then your second sight takes over and you can see through the magic. It’s all in the grimoire.”
“It’s gone.” Vivienne confessed. “It was stolen from my car last night.”
“Before you were attacked?”
“Yes.” Vivienne nodded. “You know about that too?”
“These are dark times indeed. We have to be extra careful or we’ll both end up dead.”
Vivienne sat down next to Nana Mary and took hold of her hands. “I’m so confused with what’s going on. None of it makes sense.”
“You weren’t the only one attacked last night, my dear.” Nana Mary continued. “Last night, as I was getting ready to have my dinner, I was interrupted by one of the care staff who looked like Sandy Cumberland from the front reception desk. Only, it wasn’t her. She had gone home at five like she always does.”
“What happened?”
“Well, this stranger told me that Doctor Mayfield had left some new medication with her and that I was supposed to take two pills with dinner each night.” Nana Mary shook her head. “As if I were some stupid child who would never question that.”
“Were they poison?” Vivienne wondered aloud.
“I have no idea. I no sooner had grabbed the bottle when I saw through the glamour spell. I couldn’t make out their face because they were using another glamour spell underneath the first that obscured their real features. Whoever it was, was working some powerful magic.”
Vivienne’s eyes widened. “So it was another witch?”
“There’s no doubt about that. This is the work of dark magic, my dear. It’s evil and it’s powerful.” Nana Mary did her best to boil down the details. “Whoever it was must have sensed my alarm because they tried to grab me and force the pills down my throat. We struggled and I managed to knock the bottle to the floor and they flew everywhere.”
“That explains the pills on the floor.” Vivienne nodded.
“So I grabbed one of my heavy hard-bound cookbooks off the counter and I smacked them with it as hard as I could. They fell back against the cabinets and I beat feet it out of there as fast as I could.”
“Why didn’t you tell security?” Vivienne asked.
Nana Mary grimaced. “What could they do against a dark witch? No, my only option was to get out and disappear.”