“I regret my actions and how they have effected our relationship.”
Such a stiff apology, Scarlett thought though she was sure her mother did regret her choices. Scarlett rubbed her hand down Luna’s back and reminded herself that when she’d been little—it had been Maye who had rubbed Scarlett’s back and rocked her and loved her and fought for her.
“I want us to fix things. To be friends again. I want to be a part of your life.”
Scarlett closed her eyes for a moment, took a deep breath. And told herself to have those quiet stream thoughts, but what she saw in her mind was the way the roots of a grove tangled together. Trees were bound together like druids were bound into circles and families. What Scarlett had done wasn’t wrong. They weren’t prisoners of the grove or the circle. But what she’d done had been painful. Probably devastating for those she’d hurt when she’d pulled out her roots. Certainly, devastatingly painful for her mother to have had her dream stolen. It should have been certain that another generation would continue with roots tangled together. Generations of their family had lived the same life. Generations of druids chose to live their lives together, finding their strength, working their magic together, building their happiness together. And poor Maye. She had gotten the wanderlust druid daughter. What a disappointment Scarlett must have been for Maye.
It was said of druids that a druid alone was weak, but druids together were strong. And Scarlett had left that strength and that reality behind and made a different life.
“That’s why we’re here,” Scarlett admitted.
She was not going to say that what Maye had done was ok. It wasn’t. But Scarlett was also not unaware that her choices were not pain-free either.
Maye said, “If Luna has been memory hexed, there is no place safer for her in Mystic Cove than at the Oaken property. The grove will protect Luna. That massive beast you call a dog will protect her. Your cousins, your aunts, Gram, and I—and of course—Harper will protect her.”
“They’re grieving Mom.”
But it was Scarlett who couldn’t stand the idea of the girls going to the property without her. And Scarlett was also sure that her fate demanded she stay here—at the bakery.
“What better time to ride horses, plant gardens, and meet new trees than when you’re grieving?”
Maye wasn’t wrong. But mostly the suggestion felt right. And it gave Scarlett the room to do what she needed to do which was to find the person who’d hexed her baby.
Scarlett nodded and said, “Fine. We’ll get their things from upstairs. Harper knows what to do about Max and the girls. Harper is in charge of them.”
“Harper is currently starting fires with Ella.” Maye’s tone was flat, and Scarlett was sure she’d hurt her mother again. She hadn’t intended to, but she could see the pain in the tightness around Maye’s eyes and the way her lips had thinned.
Scarlett grinned as she answered, “That she is. And therefore, Ella isn’t in here, crying over her dad. Harper’s heart is in the right place. She knows the girls, and they love her.”
“Her judgment is lacking. Wally is eyeing her for the murder because she lit Lacey’s car on fire last year.”
“Mom,” Scarlett said. “Harper is in charge because she’s Harper.”
“What is that supposed to mean.”
“She’ll do, literally, anything to protect the girls.”
“And you think I won’t?”
“You, dearest mother, are bound by a moral compass and a fear of the law.”
Maye considered for a moment and then said, “Perhaps you’re right. But I would lay down my life for the girls.”
Scarlett smiled because she could not hug her mother with Luna in the way. But Scarlett said sweetly, “And Harper would lay down a hundred lives for the girls. Yours included.”
Maye suddenly wasn’t offended—she knew her daughter well and Harper was nothing if not pragmatic and fully capable of making the hardest choices possible.
“She still set that car on fire.”
Scarlett let her mom have the point, but said, “I’m sure Lacey probably deserved it.”
“I don’t know what Lacey did, but I’m sure she deserved it too,” Maye said, rubbing her arms. “That creature was foul. But druids don’t light people’s things on fire.”
Scarlett considered her ex’s things and the lovely bonfire she’d made with Harper and the girls. What a disappointment they must be to their mother. Scarlett’s laughing snort was the only answer she had to make to that statement.
“Being in balance with nature is our way.” That was intended to be the morally superior teaching point, but Scarlett’s nasty side came to the front again.
“Following the path the universe puts before our feet is also the druidic way.” Scarlett rose, pretending not to see her mother flinch. “Come on, Mom. Let’s gather up all of the hooligans and send them to your place. Probably they won’t burn the barn down.”
* * * * *
“How do you feel about that?” Henna asked watching Harper and Maye leave with the girls. Henna had put a sign over the bakery stating they’d closed, but the door was open and the tables were filled. Coffee was selling well and most of the things they’d made before Scarlett found the body had been sold.
“Is it all right if I cry in the corner over here?”
Henna smiled and patted Scarlett on the back.
“Take a moment, sweetheart,” Henna said, nodding at the bathroom door. She had taken one of the backup cheesecakes out of the freezer and was selling the slices at an extra dollar a piece too. Scarlett felt a wicked flash of humor with Henna. It would have been better thawed out some, but none of these people cared at the moment. The cheesecake was their disguise; they were here for the gossip.
Scarlett went into the little bathroom and washed her face. The sink, tile, and laminate were mint green and ancient. Scarlett added it to the list of things that needed to be redone. She took a deep breath, examining her face in the mirror. Her skin was white rather than her normal freckled-covered, peaches and cream complexion. The circles under her eyes had turned into caverns shadowed in the darkest of blues.
She looked like death. She felt like death. The anxiety of what had happened was still creeping up on her. And the way her daughters were currently driving away was not helping at all.
“Scarlett,” she told herself in the mirror, making herself own the truth she was about to say, “Someone hexed your daughter.”
She let that statement hang in the air. She let the worry it caused roll through her body and settle into the knots in her shoulders and the point between her eyes. She took a deep breath, tried to hold back her fear and said, “The person who hexed Luna is probably the killer.”
And then because that didn’t seem strong enough, she changed it to, “The person who hexed Luna was certainly the killer.”
Scarlett took a breath, holding it and counting. Her mind raced as that fact bounded around her head. What was she going to do? Was she strong enough for this? Should she run? Would running make Luna safe? What did Scarlett’s path say?
But when Scarlett tried to let her power and magic sink into nature and find her path—she couldn’t see anything. She thought and considered and then remembered her Gram saying, “The universe isn’t a fortune cookie, girl. Make a choice. Use the brain you were gifted with. That’s when you can sense things. That’s when you can feel the path.”
Scarlett sat down on the lid of the toilet, pressed the palms of her hands into her eyes, and considered. After a few minutes, she said to herself, “Your path brought you here.”
She spoke out loud so that she couldn’t avoid the truths she was finding, and Scarlett knew that her path had brought her here. She was supposed to have come here.
“So fight for it.”
And then it seemed that her path rolled out before her. The next step that made the most sense was to find out where the threat to Luna was coming from. Possibly whoever hexed Luna didn’t mea
n her harm. But Scarlett couldn’t risk her daughter. Never would she risk either child on a guess. So she had to know, at the very least, who the killer was.
“You’re not a cop.” It was a fact that she didn’t need to say aloud, but she did need to ground into her mind the subsequent statements. “But you aren’t stupid. And you know these people.”
True and true. And happily, what was even more true, “The discernment of the druids is on your side.”
With that—cop or not—Scarlett was sure she could intuit who the killer was as long as she had enough pieces of the puzzle.
Scarlett let those things dig their roots into her mind as she took a moment to mourn the time she wasn't going to have with the girls. She reminded herself that her girls would be across town. They’d be safe. Their dog would be safe. They’d ride horses and feed chickens and play in the mud. It hurt though. It hurt so bad, but there was also that other feeling.
The feeling of being set free which added a dose of sour since she felt guilty for feeling free. Even still, she had to admit she was pretty excited about taking a shower by herself, eating her dinner while it was hot, and maybe even just picking up her bag and walking out of the apartment. She’d be able to go for a walk late at night or eat nothing but chocolate and chips and not be caught. She was going to be able to do…well…anything.
When she left the bathroom, Henna handed Scarlett an empty coffee cup and nodded towards the bakery’s dining area. They had around 10 tables that could seat four comfortably and six if people squeezed in. Every table had at least eight people. The walls were lined with people standing and whispering together. All of the gazes turned towards Scarlett, there was a moment of quiet, and then the whispering increased in volume though it sounded like nothing more than the wind blowing through the heather. Scarlett made herself a large coffee heavy on cream and sugar and then glanced around, meeting gazes this time. Nodding to her 2nd-grade teacher and the waitress from Mabel’s diner. Finally, Scarlett found a likely face and crossed to the corner with the tiny table only large enough for a couple of cups of coffee.
“Abby?”
“Hello,” Abby said. Her pointed nose seemed to turn up with her lips into a pointed little smile. Her chin was as sharp as ever. And, like always, she was rail thin. “I heard you were back. You found her?”
She went straight to the goods of the gossip even though she probably had 100s of details gathered from whoever would talk. She had formed an opinion and was pointedly curious about what Scarlett would admit to.
Scarlett nodded, reminded herself that gossip was the way to find out what she needed, and then she told the story of finding Lacey. Scarlett made sure she was loud enough to let the people around hear. It was why they were here, and she tried to take stock of faces, so she could get her chance for the corresponding gossip later. Maybe the killer was one of them, three tables over, listening and eating up-charged cheesecake, and sleuthing to see who knew what.
When Scarlet was done with her story, the murmurs started once again, and Scarlett leaned back, taking a moment to gather the thoughts that had been darting through her mind during the story.
Wally was an idiot. He could barely handle the traffic issues along with occasional acts of vandalism or theft. The little town handled itself given that the residents were mostly supernatural. Most of the trouble Mystic Cove experienced came from tourists which meant it happened in tourist season and was rarely serious.
Scarlett would have let sleeping dogs lie if not for Luna, but someone had hexed her daughter. And someone was going to regret that action in the days ahead. Scarlett would find them if she had to filet her neighbors. And when she found that person, she’d make them pay for Luna having to mourn her daddy yet again.
“So your Gram was right?” Abby’s pointed smile didn’t show a hint of the viciousness of the question. Scarlett was a bit surprised. She and Abby had never been close, but Scarlett wouldn’t have considered them enemies. That question had been pure mean, though, and Abby hadn’t even tried to hide it.
“Do you mean that my marriage fell apart, I wasn’t happy, and now I’ve come home in shame and disappointment?”
Abby shrugged, took a dainty sip of her coffee, and waited. But yes. That was exactly what Abby meant. What did it say about Abby that she’d rather hear about Scarlett’s failures than Lacey’s body?
Except, Abby’s question had been loud enough to have the other tables leaning in to eavesdrop. And there was something about the curve of Abby’s lips and the brightness in her eyes that said she wanted to scavenge the worst of the details.
Gus plopped onto the chair between Abby and Scarlett before she could answer.
His voice carried as he idly asked, “Have you seen her daughters?”
Abby shook her head and the bright light faded from her eyes—it was much harder to pick on friends united than the lone weakling.
“Adorable. Sweet. Funny. Met them with Harper. How can that be a sad story? Marriages fail all the time, but Scarlett’s story is a happily ever after.”
“True,” Scarlett agreed, handing her plate of cookies and bagel over to share with him like she’d done a thousand times before. She didn't even think when she handed him the food, it was suddenly those afternoons in high school again.
He took the bagel, took a big bite, like he used to, and then said, “They’re pretty great, Scar. You did good.”
“Thank you,” she said and real warmth colored her face and her smile. It was a terrible day, but he was right. Her daughters were great. And the sight of his smile wasn’t so bad either.
“You two,” Abby’s mouth pursed and she said snidely, “Oh look. The Amazing Duo rides again.”
Abby said it with the same meanness that Lacey, Brad, Kelly and the rest had in high school.
Scarlett laughed out loud. “I forgot they called us that.”
“We were pathetic,” Gus said, glancing at her and taking the oatmeal raisin cookie.
“You were so skinny. And I was so awkward.”
“So busy staring at atlases and journals of the groves.”
“Do you remember when we went fishing?”
“And got stuck?”
“We waited to be rescued forever. And oh, how your dad yelled.”
They laughed in unison giggling at memories that only they shared and Abby’s lips pursed sourly.
“Like old times,” she said and sniffed.
Scarlett grinned and said gently, “We’re all grown up now, Abs. What happened then doesn’t matter anymore.”
Gus nodded, taking a drink of Scarlett’s coffee and saying, “But maybe it mattered to whoever killed Lacey.”
“Surely they would've killed her years ago,” Scarlett said as she leaned back against the chair.
“Not if it was something more recent,” Abby interjected. “Like when you dated Lacey, Gus. I heard that didn’t end well. Maybe you killed Lacey.”
Scarlett turned, eyes wide, mouth agape on Gus and said, “Tell me it isn’t true. Tell me Harper was lying.”
“I…”
“No way.”
“I…”
Abby’s snide laugh cut in and Gus blushed. You could see it in his ears and the bones of his cheek above his too-sexy scruff.
“Oh. My. Goodness,” Scarlett breathed, “Shut. Up.”
Gus cleared his throat and took another sip of coffee and tried to sidestep Scarlett’s stare by glancing out the window.
“Gus, you dog,” Scarlett said, chucking him on the shoulder. “I feel a little dirty being around you.”
“It…it’s hard to explain.” He glanced at Abby and back at Scarlett and shrugged helplessly.
The thought that he’d dated Lacey made Scarlett sick, and not because she had despised Lacey. Surely, it wasn’t Gus who killed Lacey? It couldn’t be. He was Scarlett’s best friend, and she knew she could trust him with her daughter—but whoever hexed Luna certainly didn’t know who Luna belonged to when they’d thrown that sp
ell at her.
The truth was—it had been a long time, and she didn’t know all grown up, fangs-having Gus anymore. She remembered his father and how scary he’d been—maybe Gus had changed. Maybe, he’d become more like Augustus Sr. Maybe…maybe…she shouldn’t be so quick to trust her old friend.
He took another cookie and seemed to know she was worried. He tried to smile, and she tried to smile back. They both failed.
Chapter 6
“Now, where’d that creature you call a sister go?” Wally walked into the bakery, took a cup, and poured himself a cup of coffee without paying for it. Scarlett’s eyes narrowed on him, but he didn’t even flinch.
He sat down at the next table over and made a show of situating himself before he looked expectantly at Scarlett.
“If you are referring to Harper…she’s taking my daughters to the Oaken House.”
“Surprised you’d let her take them,” Wally said, casually. He cleared his throat and swallowed making Scarlett gag again. He didn’t even care that there was a good half the town in the bakery, looking on with avid eyes. “Given how her blood was at the scene.”
A low murmur rose up and Scarlett wasn’t sure if it was the blood rushing through her ears or her neighbors who’d been given the doozy of all rumors to spread.
“Her blood?” Scarlett’s voice was cool and calm, but in her head, she was seeing that cut on Scarlett’s arm again. Abby shifted and her pointed mouth had a smile at the edges, while Gus seemed as furious as Scarlett. That was something at least, Scarlett thought. But, of course, the only way that Wally would know that so quickly was if Gus had told him. Gus, the vampire, who could match blood to the person so easily. One sniff. That’s Harper. That’s Lacey. That’s…whoever.
Scarlett’s eyes narrowed on him, and he shifted uncomfortably.
“Her blood,” Wally announced loudly. “There was blood around the stone bench back there and it dripped on over to the alleyway. Harper admitted it was hers when I questioned her. Your kid seemed real upset. Now, not a good example for the gel.”
“You questioned my sister about murder in front of my daughter?” The chill in her voice intensified and there was no question that Scarlett was killing mad. The audience in the bakery seemed to hold their collective breath as Scarlett faced off with Wally.
Bedtimes and Broomsticks Page 4