by Raven Snow
Rowen shivered where she sat. She could still feel his lips on hers. And he knew she had a husband! He just hadn’t cared. Speaking of Eric… Rowen cringed. She was going to have to mention this to him. Given all that had transpired between the two of them lately, she really wasn’t looking forward to it. She just hoped he didn’t take it the wrong way. It wasn’t like she had done anything wrong this time.
***
“I’m home!” Rowen called, coming back through the front door. Chester was there to greet her again. He wagged his tail and gave a few happy barks like he was glad to see it was just her this time.
“Okay!” Eric called back. It sounded like he was sitting in the living room. Rowen headed that way.
“You won’t believe what just happened to me.” Rowen found her husband in the den. The television was on and his eyes were fixed on it. The remains of whatever he had had for dinner were on a plate resting on the coffee table before him.
“What?” asked Eric, not glancing up from the program he was watching.
Rowen fought the urge to just say ‘never mind,’ and head back upstairs. She had hoped for a little more attention than this. “You know that guy I left with? Nathan? He tried to kiss me when I dropped him off at his car.”
At least that got Eric to look up. “What did you do?”
“I slapped him!” Rowen didn’t like using physical violence against people but, as far as she was concerned, he had deserved it. “Then I kicked him out of my car and drove away.”
“Well, tell me if he gets to be a problem.” Eric looked back at the television.
“Seriously?” Rowen couldn’t believe that was the only reaction her story had earned. “That’s it?”
Eric looked up again. “What? What else can I say?”
“I dunno,” Rowen admitted. “I guess I just figured you would be mad at him or something.”
“Sort of hard to be mad at a guy I don’t even know.” Eric shrugged. “Call me crazy, but I trust you not to cheat on me. I don’t like that he kissed you without your permission, but it sounds like you handled yourself pretty well.”
That was hard to argue with. Still… “This has been a really lousy day.”
Eric watched her for several long seconds. Finally, he patted the sofa cushion to his right. Rowen hesitated but finally went around to join him. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.
Rowen considered that question. There was a lot to fill him in on. There was too much to fill him in on in fact. She was too tired to go over all of it. “Not really.”
“Want to sit here with me and watch stupid reality shows?”
That sounded more doable. “Yeah. Let’s do that.”
Eric put an arm around his wife. She, in turn, leaned against his shoulder. “I’m sorry you had such a bad day,” he said, which was nice. It felt like maybe he was getting over that grudge of his. Unfortunately, Rowen couldn’t find a whole lot of comfort in it. She couldn’t imagine that tomorrow was going to be a whole lot better.
Chapter Eleven
Rowen arrive at the Lainswich Inquirer the next day to find that a brick had been hurled through the window. “Fantastic,” she said, standing on the sidewalk. It had been a while since anyone had thrown an object at something the Greensmiths owned. “I guess it was only a matter of time.”
“Do you want me to call the police?” asked Eric, standing beside her on the sidewalk. He was already pulling his cell phone out.
“No,” Rowen said quickly. “Rose’s car is out there. I bet she’s inside, and I bet she’s already called Ben. Come on.” Rowen let herself into the building. Getting closer to the brick she noticed that there was a note on it. ‘WE KNOW WHAT YOU DID, MURDERERS,’ it read. Rowen sighed. She had seen this coming a mile away. “I know I shouldn’t touch anything until Ben gets here, but…” She leaned down and snatched the note from the brick. “I don’t want Peony seeing that. She’s been feeling guilty enough as it is.”
“Who’s there?!” Rose called from the office.
“Just me!” Rowen called, headed for her office.
“And Eric,” added Eric.
“I guess you saw what happened to the window.” Rose was rocking forwards and back in her desk chair, her expression uncharacteristically dark.
“It’s kind of hard to miss. Did you call Ben?” asked Rowen.
Rose nodded. “He’ll be here in a few minutes. He said he’s probably not going to find anything, though. They don’t usually catch the people who do this sort of thing.”
“Let me set up a security camera out there for you,” said Eric, inserting himself into the conversation. “It could help you avoid stuff like that in the future.”
“Thanks, but that’s not even our biggest problem today,” Rose said with a sigh. “Have you seen the news yet?”
“No.” Rowen looked back in the direction of the television. “Why?” she asked, slowly. It wasn’t like she needed to ask. Her mind was already conjuring up a lot of worst case scenarios for her.
“Go look. It’s all they’ve been talking about for the last hour.” Rose pointed them out the door. She didn’t rise from her desk herself. Apparently, she’d already seen enough.
Rowen walked back to her desk. She found the television remote and switched it on. Julia Martinez was there, sitting across from that occult expert of hers again. “Are Ouija boards commonly used among witches?”
The occult expert gave a small shrug. “They’re tools like anything else.”
“Tools for speaking to the dead,” Julia clarified for her audience.
“That’s correct.”
“And what does one typically ask the dead?”
“Well, that depends,” said the occultist. “They may have questions or they may just want to say something to them.”
“So, one might contact the deceased out of an emotion like guilt.”
“I guess.” Again, the occultist shrugged. She was leading his words in a direction he seemed more than a little puzzled about.
Julia looked toward the camera. “If you’re just tuning in with us, we’re here speaking with an expert on all things occult. Last night at the Seraphina Celeste Memorial Art Show, a small scandal broke out when a group of Lainswich’s own Greensmith witches were discovered using a Ouija board in a public restroom. This is not the first time this sort of thing has happened as it has recently come out that these same women broke into the art gallery for exactly this reason. Our own Darren Hawthorne did not press charges, but after last night, things have, obviously, gotten out of hand. This sort of blatant and, frankly, suspicious amount of disrespect for the deceased is something we can ignore no longer.”
Rowen switched the television off. That was enough of that. “Great,” she said with a sigh, heading back to Rose’s office. “Is there anything we can do about this?”
Rose was sitting there looking dejected, her head propped up on her hands. “I already have Margo out there. She’s going to have a word with Julia Martinez and Mr. Hawthorne. I haven’t heard anything particularly promising back from her, though.”
“Great.” Rowen sank down into a chair. Beside her, Eric did the same. “So why are we getting bricks thrown through our window? I know things are bad, but they’re not that bad yet, are they? Do they have a reason to try and pin the murder on us yet?” Rowen knew Lainswich didn’t always need a reason outside of them being a family of witches. Still, they normally had one.
“Well…” Rose made a face like she didn’t want to get into this part. “They sort of do, actually.”
Rowen winced. “What is it?”
“They know about the hex,” said Rose. She pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and index finger. “Somehow, they know that a hex was put on Dayveed and Karen.”
Rowen stared. “Are you kidding?” She knew Rose wasn’t. This was hardly a joking matter. “How did they find out?”
“I don’t know,” Rose admitted. “The only person I can think of who might ha
ve said something is… well…”
“Nathan,” Rowen concluded for her. “That jerk! I can’t believe this.”
“What reason would he have to tell? I thought of him too, but I just can’t find the motive.”
“He was mad at me.” Rowen thought back to the previous night. “He tried to kiss me, and I slapped him.”
“Seriously?” Rose stared. “I guess he did seem like he could be a kind of vindictive guy. I still didn’t exp—” The phone rang, silencing Rose. She stared at it for a couple of rings like she didn’t want to answer it. More than likely, she had received her fair share of cruel prank calls this morning. Rose finally reached for the phone. “Lainswich Inquirer. This is Rose Greensmith speaking. How may I help you?”
Rowen and Eric watched Rose sit there and listen carefully to a person neither of them could hear. She only responded occasionally. “Yes… Of course… We’re all very sorry for your loss.” This went on for quite some time until Rose said, “We would love to. That sounds absolutely perfect… Yes, ma’am. We’ll see you then.” She hung up.
“Who was that?” asked Rowen.
Rose didn’t answer her at first. She stared at the phone she had just hung up a bit longer like she couldn’t believe who she had just talked to. She sat up a bit straighter when Rowen cleared her throat to try and get her attention. “Oh, sorry.” Rose shook her head as if to try and clear out a layer of fog. “You’ll never believe it, but that was Dayveed’s family.”
“Seriously?” Rowen looked at the phone as well, like it might answer her questions or something. “Were they mad?”
“No, actually.” Rose sounded surprised by this even as she said it. “At least they didn’t sound that way over the phone. They seemed oddly sympathetic, like they believe Channel 2 is blowing this stuff out of proportion.”
Rowen wasn’t sure what to say to that. It wasn’t like Channel 2 was even wrong this time. They had done all the things they outright accused them of, except leave that pentagram. Not that Rowen had any intention of correcting the Monroe family. “So why were they calling?”
“They want to do an interview.” Rose shook her head like even she couldn’t believe what she was saying.
“Have they given an interview to Channel 2 yet?” asked Eric.
“Not yet.” Rose smiled, despite all her uncertainty. “We’ll be the first.”
“I wonder why?” Rowen didn’t mean to look a gift horse in the mouth but she couldn’t help but be suspicious. If something seemed too good to be true it usually was. “Who’s going to do the interview?”
“I figure we’ll both go around lunch time,” said Rose. “Probably not the best idea to take Peony. I don’t want to leave Peony alone either, so Willow should probably stay with her. There’s no telling when Margo will get back here. She has a lot on her plate.”
“Sounds fine by me. What do you want me to do until then?” Rowen asked. Before Rose could answer her, a phone rang again. It was Rowen’s phone this time. She brought it to her ear. “What’s up?” she asked. The caller ID had said it was Aunt Lydia.
Lydia didn’t beat around the bush. She came right out with what she wanted. “Will you come over here?”
“What? Why?”
“It’s private and very important. I’d rather talk about it in person.”
“Why me?” Rowen looked to Rose as she spoke. Wouldn’t it make more sense for Lydia to want to talk to her daughter about whatever it was.
“It’s a private matter. Besides, I’m sure Rose is very busy with work right now.”
Rowen was a little offended that Lydia didn’t think she could possibly be busy with work. Still, she couldn’t argue with her. It wasn’t like she was wrong. “Fine.” She gave up. “I’ll be over there in a little while.”
“Thank you so much, dear. I knew I could count on you.” Lydia hung up and Rowen did the same.
“Who was that?” asked Rose.
“Your mom. And before you ask, I have no idea what she wants. I need to go meet her, though.”
Rose frowned. “I wonder why she didn’t call me,” she muttered. “Oh well. You can go on, I guess. Just be sure to meet me back here around noonish.”
“Got it.” Rowen fished the car keys out of her pocket. The day had barely even started yet and already she had a feeling that it was going to be anything but boring.
Chapter Twelve
Rowen parked outside of Odds & Ends. The statue of Seraphina out front greeted her. It also made her stomach turn a bit. She had had her fill of Seraphina lately. After all that had happened at the art gallery, it was about all she saw when she closed her eyes. Rowen got out of her car. Once on the sidewalk and past the statue, she noticed that a brick had been hurled through the window here as well. Rowen cursed under her breath. There was a big hole in the door. Some plastic had been taped up over it and the glass had been swept off the sidewalk. Still, it was obvious what had happened.
Furious, Rowen opened the door and went inside. Aunt Lydia was standing behind the counter. She looked up when the door opened. “Oh good,” she said with a smile. “You’re here.”
“What happened to the front door?” Rowen asked even though she had a good idea as to what had happened.
“Hmm?” Lydia looked up as if puzzled. When she realized what Rowen was talking about, she waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, that’s not anything important. One of the locals just hurled a threatening brick through the window. You know how that is.”
“Someone threw a brick through the Inquirer’s window, too.” Rowen watched her aunt carefully. This was a pretty odd reaction for her. Normally, she would have blown the whole thing out of proportion. The fact that she wasn’t making a big deal out of any of this was, quite frankly, disconcerting. “Is anyone else here?”
“Norman is.” Rowen looked toward the back room. “Norman!” she shouted, making Rowen jump.
“What?!” Norman shouted right back.
“Come out here and watch the shop while I talk to Rowen!”
Rowen’s uncle and Margo’s father emerged from the back room. “Hey,” he said with a yawn, giving Rowen a tired half wave as he went to take a seat on the stool behind the counter.
“Don’t fall asleep,” Lydia warned. “He’s probably going to fall asleep,” she told Rowen once they were in the back. “Let’s make this quick, I suppose.” She motioned for her niece to take a seat at the table used for tarot card readings.
Rowen sat down. “So, what’s this about?” She couldn’t even begin to guess. She had never seen her aunt act this way before.
“I need your advice.” Aunt Lydia folded her hands on the table in front of her. She took a deep breath like she needed to work her way up to blurting out what needed to be said.
“What kind of advice.” Rowen found it hard to believe there was anything Lydia felt she knew less about than she did. Lydia generally had a very high opinion of herself.
“It has to do with Reginald… and Philip too, I suppose.”
“Oh.” So it had to do with matters of the heart. Lydia had never asked for anyone’s advice in those areas before, but it was still a relief that it wasn’t anything serious. “What about them?”
“I don’t believe they’re going to buy Hawthorne’s old house.” Lydia’s eyes actually looked a little wet as she spoke. “That would mean, after the art show, they would move back to their place in the city. They said they would fly us up regularly, but I don’t know. I don’t much care for that idea. How would I look after the shop?” Lydia shook her head. “No, a long-distance relationship just wouldn’t work out. That’s all there is to it.”
Rowen failed to see where she was going with this. “So what kind of advice are you looking for from me?”
“You managed to convince that husband of yours to give up his work and live here. How did you manage that?”
“I didn’t put a spell on him or anything, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
“Of course not, dear!�
�� Lydia lowered her voice. “Though… if you did, I wouldn’t judge you for it. Did you put a spell on him? Which one?”
“Lydia!”
“Sorry. Sorry. Of course you didn’t bewitch him. What did you do, though?”
Rowen shrugged. “I don’t know. I was just myself, to be honest. And it’s not like he started living here immediately. It took some time before he decided getting a home and a job here was what he wanted. You should know that. You were there for it. There wasn’t some secret side to it all that you didn’t see.”
Lydia looked down at the table her brow furrowed as if disappointed. “I really like that man.”
“More so than you’ve liked other men?” In the past, Lydia had seen quite a few men that Rowen knew of. She wasn’t sure what made this guy so special after so short a time.
Lydia didn’t answer her niece at first. She sat there for a while as if seriously considering the question. “I believe I do.” She nodded, doubling down on that answer. “I think it’s because he shares my interests. It’s so nice to find a fellow who doesn’t think you’re insane. I’d never really minded in the past, but having the opposite is such a breath of fresh air.” Lydia couldn’t help but smile. “He just seems so impressed by me. And then there’s Philip.”
“What about Philip?”
“Well, Nadine is dating him. That’s just about as convenient as it gets. We can go on double dates and chat together. It’s fantastic. I don’t want to give it up.”
“Have you tried telling Reginald all of this?” That seemed to Rowen like the obvious thing to do and yet she doubted Lydia had given it much consideration.
“Of course not,” said Lydia, confirming Rowen’s suspicions. “We haven’t been dating nearly long enough for me to admit to that sort of thing.”