“Now, now, little lady,” Wally said, rubbing his belly, “All in the pursuit of justice.”
“I am neither little nor a lady. I am a mother,” Scarlett replied with that deadly chill, “And you crossed a line that even you should recognize as unprofessional and unacceptable.”
“Your sister set Lacey’s car on fire,” Wally said as if that somehow justified traumatizing a little girl. “Everyone knows it. Had to talk to her.”
“Really?” Scarlett’s voice had lost none of the danger but had increased in challenge. It so happened that Scarlett was probably one of the few people who was positive that Harper had, in fact, lit Lacey’s car on fire. For everyone else, it was rumor. “Because charges were never filed against her.”
“Now, now,” Wally said. “We all know.”
“No,” Scarlett snapped. “You don’t know anything. If you had proof, you’d have arrested Harper. But you didn’t. You had guesses!”
Very good ones, she thought.
“And those are worthless, you fool. Now you listen to me. If you ever do something like this again, I will ruin you.”
Wally’s face flushed to an unhealthy red and he seemed to work to hold back a desire to slap Scarlett.
“Are you threatening me? Now, that’s not something you want to be doing,” Wally said, the redness going down his neck and onto his ears.
Scarlett rose, grabbed his coffee, bussing it as she said, “You leave. And recognize that the threat was real, and I meant—not that I would attack you, but that I would sue the pants off of you and your pathetic, inept, department of fools for what you did in front of my daughter let alone that unfounded slander against my sister.”
Wally fixed his gaze on Scarlett and said, “Now. I’ll be letting this go, seeing as how you might need to face that your sister murdered our fine mayor and hexed your kid.”
Scarlett pointed at the bakery door, focused on the face of the fool sheriff. “I’ll be solving this crime,” Scarlett shot out. “Since you couldn’t be stupider. Admit the truth. Harper would never, ever hurt my daughter. That makes her innocent, you massive fool. Even you know that Harper is loyal to the extreme. Even you know that if Harper loves you, she’d spill her blood to defend you before she’d hurt a hair on your head.”
“Scarlett,” Gus tried to intervene, too late to prevent the damage, too late to stop her.
She rode right over his calm voice, “All I can see that you’ve done is question whoever was close enough that you didn’t have to walk too far.”
“Scarlett,” Gus hissed, trying to take her arm, but she jerked away.
“You should know better than me killing Lacey, and yet you assumed some decade old…what feud prompted me to do her in? By the stars, could you be stupider? And then you move from me to Harper? Why? Because she’s some poor kid who got screwed by foster care?”
“Scarlett!”
Scarlett batted Gus’s hand away. “And you think I’d carry some grudge from high school that had me murdering the mean girl a decade, plus later? Please. That’s idiotic and everyone here could tell you that.”
Wally rose slowly, his ears had gotten so flushed they were purple, but Scarlett didn’t back down. Years of frustration were finally pouring out of her, and even if the focus of her rage wasn't the reason she’d had so much frustration built up, he was certainly the reason she’d finally lost control.
“It’s shocking to me that you’ve been able to keep this job so long. Who’s been carrying your dead weight?”
“Scarlett, stop,” Gus said. “Stop.”
She finally snapped her mouth shut when the wind that had been softly pushing a few flower petals down the road and burst into the bakery and swirled around her. She’d called the east wind and hadn’t even meant to. Goodness, breathe deep breaths. Whoosh them out. Breathe. Whoosh. Breathe. Whoosh.
Wally cleared his throat, the red in his cheeks were two bright rounds of near-florescent rouge.
“Calm down there, sheriff.” Gus said having given up on Scarlett to pour Wally a to-go cup of coffee and attempting to soothe him with a solid pat on the arm, “Scarlett is an over-protective mom, that’s all. Of course, she’s a little upset.”
Someone snorted at that understatement, but Scarlett didn’t turn to see who. Her gaze was fixed on Gus and the fool.
“Not like a druid to be so angry,” Wally said, eyeing Scarlett as if she had some sort of illness. Or as if he were reconsidering her for a murderess again. She didn’t blame him. She was about to wring the life out of his fat neck if she could squeeze her hands in under all those chins. She’d let go of the power she hadn’t intended to call, but she was still brimming with rage.
“Well,” Gus said, linking his arm with Wally and carefully dragging him from the bakery, “I imagine that Scarlett had to be extra protective since her daughters weren’t around the circle.”
Scarlett had no doubt that Gus would try to talk Wally down, but Gus wouldn’t succeed. Scarlett had mocked a man who’s only skill set was having the biggest ego in town. Her investigation was off to a brilliant start.
* * * * *
“Scarlett, sweetie,” Henna said brightly, glancing around at her friends and neighbors, “I know it’s been hard for you today. Why don’t you go for a walk? Get some sea air, ground yourself.”
Scarlett’s lips firmed as she glanced around the bakery where too many people were avoiding her gaze and then said, “You’re right, of course, Henna. It’s been too long since I meditated. Clearly, I need to sink into the trees.”
Again a telling little snort from behind her. But Scarlett didn’t want to know who was enjoying the show so very much. She gathered the shreds of her self-control and exited Sweeter Things before she pulled the building down with the combination of the east wind and her anger.
Scarlett walked out without meeting a single gaze. She wasn’t ready to speak to anyone. To say hello and catch up and be quizzed on what she’d seen that morning. Sweeter Things was on Arbor Avenue which was also the main street through town.
She didn’t look at anything, just rushed towards some unknown destination at her normal speed. It took three full blocks before it occurred to her that she wasn’t in Spokane anymore—where she’d lived with Grant—she was back to the small town east coast. And she…well goodness, she wasn’t picking up her girls, or grabbing groceries, or having to be home for dinner. Scarlett took a deep breath and slowed down. She took in another deep breath, deliberately seeking the sea air, tried to find her balance…it wasn’t working.
She let herself look around trying to find peace in being home. The shopfronts were mostly in the english tudor style. The downtown had voted when Maye was a girl for a themed town, and it had drawn in the tourists—both their kind and the normal humans. Mystic Cove had a bustling tourist trade with people who wanted to feel like they were getting the charm of Europe with only a road trip.
As for Scarlett, she knew what she found here. With the ocean, the low crime rate, and the grove—let alone family—it was the perfect place to raise her daughters. They’d needed to get away from their dad, to not have it in their faces that he didn’t want them around their brother. They needed to be sucked into druid life and their ways and not mourn over the life they’d had taken away from them.
The girls needed to be with Harper and Maye and even Gram—grumpy old coot that she was. Her girls needed what Mystic Cove had to offer, and someone was…threatening all that. If Scarlett didn’t find who killed Lacey Monroe—it wouldn’t be possible to stay in Mystic Cove. It was too much risk to Luna—but now that Scarlett was back—everything in her said that this was where she was supposed to be. She’d thought this out already. She needed to use that knowledge, instead, as a leash on her temper. She had a purpose. A plan that would be easily fouled by attacking anyone who threatened her family.
Her phone rang as she found her way to the peer.
It was Ella who asked, “Mommy did you know that Nana Maye has horse
s?”
“I did, sugar plum. Tell me all about them.”
As her daughter talked, Scarlett half-listened catching something about a surprise batch of kittens. What kind of druids were these women, Scarlett wondered. She listened to stories about chicken feathers and feeding apples to the horses. Something about spending the night and having a bonfire and visiting the family grove. Scarlett smiled as she listened to Ella jabber all caught up in the excitement that she forgot to be disdainful. In the background, Scarlett could hear Luna laughing and Max barking and the sound of Harper cackling like a loon.
And then she found it—her grounding. Her peace. She found the calm of the earth, the grace of the puffy clouds. She found the generosity of the stream, and she found the strength of the tree, and with those things, her focus.
As Scarlett headed back to the bakery, she walked past the town hall which was a pretty blue and white building with a wide porch. She wound her way past the diner and as she did, Mabel Hill stuck her head out. Scarlett waved but didn’t let herself be sucked into a round of gossip. The dinner rush was coming, and Scarlett wanted to get an overview from Henna before going after Mabel.
Scarlett passed a little accounting office kiddy-corner to the bakery and then walked down a ways to see the old post office. Inside, Becca Lovejoy had an official USPS office in the same setup where she sold stationary, post cards, local art, and a wide variety of candy. Becca had left town too, maybe they could bond over that—after this mess was cleaned up. How many could have left town and come back like Scarlett and Becca? How many could have discovered the bigger world had its own lovely appeal?
Scarlett waved, saw Becca grin with a surprised gaze as she recognized Scarlett. She took note of the surprise and decided gossiping with Becca may be pointless if she hadn’t heard that Scarlett was home. She passed the tea shop, a witch apothecary as well as four different restaurants.
On the bench across from the diner were the same two old guys that Scarlett had seen outside every day of her life as long as the weather permitted. Mr. Throdmore had a knobby cane now and Mr. Jueavas sported a shiny scalp, but they had the same interested gleam in their eyes as they'd had more than a decade before. She winked at them, and Mr. Throdmore chuckled and elbowed Mr. Jueavas.
Not too far from them, at a table outside of the tea shop, old Mrs. Lovejoy sipped from a teacup. Her sharp gaze took in Scarlett, entirely unsurprised. Scarlett nodded once, crossed the street, and made her way back into Sweeter Things.
* * * * *
Scarlett wasn’t surprised when the door to the apartment opened and Harper slipped inside. Scarlett had been laying on the bed, mind running in circles, telling herself to sleep. She had spent the evening thinking about what to do and maybe, if she were honest, enjoying the utter silence. She sat up, but Harper flopped down on the bed, taking some of the blanket. Scarlett lay back down as Harper whispered, “Do you remember when we used to sleep outside together?”
Scarlett nodded, but her sister probably couldn’t see in the dark, so she whispered, “Yeah.”
There was no point to whispering, but there was something about talking in the dark that demanded soft voices.
“That’s when I knew we were really sisters.”
Scarlett wound her arm through Harper’s and said, “I knew it from day one.”
Harper squeezed Scarlett’s arm and said, “If I hadn’t known before, what you did today with Wally would have confirmed it.”
“We’ve been real sisters for a long time, Harper. Quit looking for confirmation.”
“I’m not looking for it,” Harper hissed, but Scarlett wasn’t sure that was true. How many times had Harper learned that the people you loved betrayed and abandoned you? That was what being in foster care did. It chipped away at your heart and your trust a piece at a time as you realized that you weren’t special—not like the other kids. You weren’t wanted—not like the other kids. You were the kitten that people found under the porch. They didn’t want to kill you but that didn’t mean they wanted to deal with your fears or the fact that you’d want food and shelter.
“I’m sorry,” Scarlett said, turning towards her sister and saying, “I love you. Thank you for being there for me through all of this. I don’t think I have said it like I should have. I needed you, and you came.”
“Shut up,” Harper said like she often did when feelings were being felt.
“Tell me.” Scarlett reached out a hand to run her fingers through Harper’s hair.
“Tell you what?” Harper’s voice had the barest hint of a defensive tone.
“Don’t,” Scarlett gently begged, “Don’t be cagey.”
“It doesn’t have anything to do with the murder,” Harper almost yelped. But it was the quiet hiss of a yelp.
Scarlett didn’t blame Harper for not wanting to talk about the blood. For not wanting to admit that she’d been cutting again. For not wanting to face that as often as you had good times, the bad times came boiling up.
“Please?” Scarlett’s voice was as gentle as she could make it.
“No,” Harper whispered, pulling away.
“Are you cutting yourself again?”
Scarlett didn’t want to ask. She didn’t want to feel the disappointment and the worry. She didn’t want to feel the helplessness that came when you realized that love wasn’t enough.
“I promised I never would.”
Scarlett took a deep breath, held it and then begged, “Tell me.”
“I love you, Scarlett, but you don’t get to have all my secrets.”
There was a finality in Harper’s voice that made Scarlett flinch. She clenched her teeth to keep any of it from coming out of her mouth. And then she whispered, “I love you, Harper. I am on your side. You don’t have to give me your secrets. Fine. But realize this—”
“What?” Harper’s voice was the snapped whisper of hurt.
“I never for one instant thought it was you who hurt Lacey or—more importantly—hexed Luna. That’s why you have my girls. When you’re ready to talk. Let me know. Help me put the pieces together of what’s been happening. Because I need to figure out who did this before they steal my life here away from me.”
“What are you saying?” Harper hissed her fingers digging into Scarlett’s wrist.
“You know exactly what I’m saying.” Scarlett’s voice was filled with sadness and regret, but there was zero give in it.
Harper wasn’t stupid. If they couldn’t figure this out—there was only one way to keep Luna safe and not force her to be a prisoner on the Oaken property.
Harper pulled away, sliding out of the bed, and saying, “I only came into town because I needed to take care of some things at the shop. I better get back. Mom is on red alert, but none of them are as nasty as me.”
Chapter 7
Scarlett woke cocooned in her blankets, surprised for a long moment that she didn’t have a little body or two at her side and Max at her feet. But then she remembered that her girls were with the family, and she needed to find a murderer. She snuggled her face into the pillow and heard Henna working in the kitchens below.
The smell of ovens heating and some of the dough they made yesterday going into the oven filled the musty old apartment. Henna’s family had brought a bed over since their things still hadn’t arrived and her bags were scattered around the apartment. There was an old folding table in the eating area and three metal folding chairs. Scarlett scowled at the mess, felt a tinge of guilt for not having the home for her girls put together, and vowed she’d get it together. She rose, took a fast shower, and threw on a pair of jeans and shirt.
“Hello, sweetie,” Henna said as Scarlett stepped into the kitchens. “There you are.”
“Good morning.” Scarlett poured herself a cup of coffee and letting the aroma fill her lungs before she took a long sip. She needed to get it together. She was supposed to be taking over the bakery not rolling in as second rate backup.
“Before you get scrubbed in,�
�� Henna said, “Would you mind heading out to the gardens and getting some herbs. Today is our cheddar, herb, and garlic bread day.”
Scarlett nodded still unable to function as a human and took a long sip of her coffee before she headed out carrying herb shears, a basket, and her coffee. She stepped into the gardens, took in a long deep breath, and let the power of the plants fill her before she took another step into the garden.
And then she froze, there was a shadow in the corner of the yard that didn’t belong. Before she could scream, Gus said, “It’s me.”
She jerked at the sound of his voice, spilling half of her steaming hot coffee on her hand and cursing like a banshee long-haul trucker. Banshees could make your ears bleed in a variety of ways, but Scarlett was giving them a run for their money this morning only with her language selection. “By the stars, Gus, what the hell?”
“I’m sorry, I was out. I…”
Scarlett cut him off with a slice of her hand through the air. “What would make you think that lurking would be a good idea?”
“I was worried.”
Scarlett shook her head, and then snapped, “You don’t get to lurk, be a peeping tom, scare me, or do things that would qualify you as a stalker—not even if our entire childhood was entwined. Not even if you’re worried. Not even though you're my best friend.”
And, she added to herself, so attractive he made her knees a little weak. It wasn’t fair that her best friend had become an adonis while she’d added a baby pooch. Things weren’t the same post baby. Her scowl deepened as she stared at him and then she sniffed, glancing around for the rosemary plant.
“I…”
“Knock next time, idiot.”
He better not have pulled an Edward Cullen and lurked all night long. She sniffed and then nodded him into the garden.
He was a vampire, so he melded with the darkness in the alley better than nearly anyone else could. Except, as he stepped into the light, the porch light seemed to reach out and dramatize everything about him that had changed.
Bedtimes and Broomsticks Page 5