by Jane Tesh
“Is this some sort of trick you Delta Gammas like to play on each other?”
She sat back, arms folded. “Suppose you ask her about the photographs of me.”
“I can’t imagine anything would embarrass you, Olivia.”
“Let’s just say there are a few out there that might damage my credibility.”
“Would you like to hire me to find them?”
“Oh, I know where they are. Kathleen has them. Bring them here, and I’ll gladly exchange them for the ones of her.”
This made no sense. “Look, as much as I like being paid to do this kind of thing, why can’t the two of you meet for coffee and trade pictures?”
“Oh, this feud goes way back. It’s better for all concerned if there’s a go-between.”
“Fine, I’ll do it. Anything important I should know?”
“Kathleen Wallace is not what she seems. Don’t trust her.”
“Are you telling me she’s really into witchcraft?”
“I wouldn’t put it past her.”
Olivia was the least likely person to believe in anything supernatural. When she was dating Jerry she was forever fussing about his fake séances and his plans to use the Eberlin House as a psychic shop. While I didn’t completely trust Olivia, I always knew where I stood with her. “These pictures of you. How bad are they?”
She leaned forward on the glass desk. “I’ve worked very hard to get where I am in this firm. Being blond has not been an advantage. Now I have a reputation for being intelligent and ruthless. I don’t want to have that compromised by a couple of nude photos.”
“Uh, oh.”
“Yeah, uh, oh. Why is it that the one time I make a truly stupid judgment call, someone is there with a camera? But I never turn down a challenge, and someone dared me to pose on top of the science building. In hindsight, I should’ve walked away.”
“I imagine everyone who works here has a secret.”
“And I don’t have time to ferret them out. The only secret I care about is mine.”
Someone as aggressive as Olivia should have taken charge of her secret. “Why haven’t you contacted Kathleen before? What’s the big feud?”
Her eyes were hard as green glass. “Because I probably would’ve killed her. That would be quite a case for you, wouldn’t it? You get those photos from Kathleen, then you’ll have something I’ll bet neither of us ever thought you’d have: my money and my gratitude.”
“All right.” As I got up to leave, I expected her to ask about Jerry, or make a snide remark about life in Celosia. But she asked about my fee, wrote me a check, and turned back to her laptop.
***
I pondered this curious turn of events all the way to Pot Luck Ally and the pawn shop. Before going in, I gave Kathleen Wallace a call.
“Olivia Decker tells me you have some equally unflattering pictures of her. I’ll be glad to make the swap.”
There was a long silence on the other end of the line. Then Kathleen said, “I don’t know what she’s talking about.”
“She’s willing to hand over the witchcraft pictures for the nude shots.”
Another silence. “She said that?”
“Yes. I’ve dealt with her before. She’ll honor her part of the bargain.”
“I don’t know.”
“It would help me understand what’s going on here if you’d give me a little background on this feud between the two of you.”
Where was cheerful Dr. Wallace? Kathleen’s voice was bitter. “She cheated me, Madeline. I’m keeping those pictures.”
“Then I’m not sure I can get yours from her.”
“You’ll find a way. Excuse me, I’ve got patients to see.”
She hung up. Well. This was not what I expected. Maybe Jerry knew enough about Olivia’s past to help me out.
Bells jangled as I pushed open the door to the pawn shop. Usually, Del, a polite handsome fellow, was there to greet me. The man behind the counter talking with Jerry was large and sloppy. He had on jeans and a grubby tee-shirt that was doing its best to contain his belly. As I came to Jerry with a smile, the man’s eyebrows went up.
“Do you know this lovely lady, Jerry?”
“Mac, I’d like you to meet Double-Dealing Derek, also known as the Wizard of the Double Paw. Del had some out-of-town business, so Derek’s filling in. Derek, my wife, Madeline.”
Derek had thinning brown hair, and his small features gathered at the center of a large fleshy face I immediately distrusted. I had a pageant flashback to the men who hung around the theater and the stage door, the large swaggering sort who believed beauty queens were dumb enough to fall for their questionable charms.
I wasn’t surprised when he kissed my hand. “Delighted to meet you, Madeline.”
“Derek used to do a great card act at Ali’s Cavern in Charlotte.”
“Still do, my boy. They’ve not caught on yet.”
“Do I want to know what a double paw is?” I asked.
Jerry and Derek exchanged a glance that told me this was a scam they’d played together many times.
“No,” they both said.
Derek motioned to the glass case filled with rings and bracelets. “Now that you are no longer in the game, Jerry, you must want to buy something for your lovely lady.”
“No, the information’s all I needed.”
I hoped they hadn’t spent all their time reliving the good old grifter days. “Did you figure out who Megan is?”
“I told Derek she calls herself a wiccan, but she knew pertinent facts about both of us, carries a nifty dragon head walking stick, and was living in an old teepee in the woods. We’ve already dismissed fake horoscopes, call-in lines, fake amulets, statues, and curse removal.”
Derek scratched his protruding stomach. “I’m going to ask around. Megan Underwood, you said? Seems I heard that name before. Sure it’s not Mucking Megan?”
“No, this woman is white with long blond curly hair.”
“I’ll see what I can do. And what was the other thing? Dark Coven?”
“Darkrose Coven,” Jerry said.
“No problem.”
After we left the shop, I stopped Jerry on the sidewalk. “Okay, I’ve got to know. What’s a double paw?”
“Derek, as you might guess, makes a convincingly obnoxious drunk. He would come into a bar and insist on playing a card game. I’d already made friends with all the folks in the bar, and, seeing this obviously easy target of a drunk, they’d not only put up their money, they’d lend me money to play. Derek would win all the money, and I’d cool the marks—excuse me—give my pal time to get away by telling a sob story about my wife will kill me, and so forth. Later, I’d meet Derek and we’d split the money.”
“And no one ever caught on?”
“We never did the same bar twice.” He held the car door for me. “How is Olivia?”
“Prickly as ever.” I waited until he got into the car before springing my big news. “She hired me.”
“That’s unexpected.”
“She and Kathleen Wallace have incriminating pictures of each other, and they aren’t grown up enough to meet and exchange them.”
“Are they holding out for money?”
“I don’t know. I’ve been hired by both of them to get the photos, and Kathleen’s not budging.”
“You are rolling in clients these days.”
“And not getting anywhere with any of them.” I started the car. “Let’s see if I have better luck with Renee.”
***
Jerry was delighted when Renee said she’d meet me in Parkland Memorial Cemetery.
“Finally! Maybe she’s brought along the whole coven.”
It wasn’t the whole coven. Instead, I met another lanky young woman festooned with piercings and tattoos, including a black ro
se, who shook my hand and said she’d be happy to help with my investigation. She gave her name as Shadow. Despite her appearance, she was as dignified as a visiting queen with a skeptical air that radiated “I’m not sure I trust you.” We sat down on curved cement benches overlooking the vast array of headstones and mausoleums that dotted the green grass of the cemetery.
“Shadow wasn’t sure she wanted to meet you,” Renee said, “but I told her you could help clear the coven’s name.”
Shadow grimaced. “You know, when there’s anything even remotely paranormal in the paper, the police haul us in for questioning, and we have never committed a crime. We want to be left alone to hold our ceremonies.”
“When you say ceremonies, what exactly do you mean?”
“Secret rites and rituals that are meant to enhance our spiritual powers. If you’re thinking we’re calling up the devil, dancing around naked, or drinking the blood of the innocent, you’ve got the wrong group.”
“Is there a group like that in Parkland?”
She shook her head, earrings jangling. “If there were, we’d know about it.”
“What do you know about Eric Levin, the man who was killed?
“That’s definitely a setup. We don’t know anything about him. Whoever killed that man put those symbols on him to throw suspicion on us.”
“Among other things, a symbol for money.”
“Yep. We use that all the time. A setup, like I said.”
“Why that symbol?”
“Because we want more money. Who doesn’t?”
I looked across the wide expanse of the cemetery. The warm afternoon breeze ruffled the fresh and artificial flowers that decorated the graves and headstones. Was it possible that whoever murdered Eric Levin was trying to send a message by using that particular symbol?
Shadow twisted one of the many skull-shaped rings on her fingers. “You know, you ought to be looking in your own territory. Celosia’s got its own Darkrose Coven.”
“Two, actually. One from years back.”
“Yeah? Well, I’m talking about the new one. You know, don’t you, Renee? Girls there have something going on.”
Renee rubbed her nose ring, which made me shudder. “It’s just a Pagan Desires thing. We aren’t a coven.”
“What sort of something?” I asked Shadow.
“I don’t know, exactly. A couple of girls from Celosia came looking for our group not long ago, wanting to know if there was a spell to get rid of a baby. I told them they were crazy and referred them to the nearest abortion clinic.”
This was a horrible coincidence. “Who were these girls?”
“They didn’t tell me their names.”
“Do you remember what they looked like?”
“One had long dark hair because she kept pushing it out of her face. I remember that. It was dyed purple on the ends. The other one I don’t remember.”
“Must have been Britney Garrett,” Renee said. “The other one was probably Clover. They go everywhere together.”
“Did you know about this?” I asked her.
“First time I’ve heard of it.”
“Could one of them be pregnant?”
She shrugged.
Shadow thought of something else. “Then there was that nutty woman who wanders around everywhere. She must be from that older coven. She came looking for special weeds she thought we might be hoarding.”
“Long blond curly hair? Dresses like a flower child?”
“That’s her. I told her we don’t do weeds.”
Megan Underwood.
Shadow was determined I understand her coven was above all this nonsense. “We are serious about our spiritual growth and development. We don’t have time for people who are in it for their own purposes or entertainment. And we damn sure don’t have to murder anybody to prove how badass we are.”
I shook her hand, “I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me. I’ll do what I can to clear your coven’s name.”
She was genuinely pleased. “Thank you.”
I thanked Renee for setting up the meeting, and the two young women disappeared down one of the winding cemetery paths. Jerry and I sat for a long time on the bench, staring out at the silent graveyard. He was as disturbed as I was that a member of Celosia’s new Darkrose Coven was apparently pregnant with an unwanted child. What could a desperate young woman do, especially one caught up in witchcraft? Could I keep this dark history from repeating itself?
Abruptly, Jerry tried to lighten the mood. “Did you ever think you’d be Madeline Maclin, Champion of the Coven?”
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Parkland’s Darkrose Coven appears to be the most reasonable party in all this. Certainly Shadow is fiercely protective of its reputation.”
“She could be trying to deflect the blame to Celosia.”
“I don’t get that feeling. Why would she agree to meet me? She wanted to make sure I knew her group was innocent.”
“Another innocent party? That’s all we need.” He stood and offered me his hand. “Who do you want to talk to first?”
I got up and brushed the back of my pants. I wasn’t ready to confront Britney or any of the current Darkrose Coven. “Megan. I’m curious about these weeds she was looking for.”
“If it’s rhododendron, she could’ve found that anywhere.”
“Unless she didn’t know it was poisonous and was hoping the Parkland coven could tell her. Now, if I were a homeless witch, where would I go?”
“Narnia?”
“A little more real, please.”
“I’d find an abandoned house. And where are abandoned houses in Celosia?”
I knew exactly. “Tinsley Acres.”
Chapter Twelve
When she was playing pranks on Jerry in the hopes of luring him back into the game, Jerry’s con artist friend Honor had made good use of Tinsley Acres, a failed housing development outside of town, by spending a few days inside one of the huge cathedral-like mansions no one could afford. The owners of the development and the contractors were still locked in bitter disputes. Meanwhile, what could’ve been palatial homes for the lucky few sat empty.
Honor had camped out in the largest fanciest house, but as we drove down the street, Jerry pointed to the last house. “I’d pick that one. It has a good view of the whole neighborhood, the bushes are up past the first-floor windows for good cover, and it’s closest to the woods in case I had to decamp quickly.”
“You scare me sometimes.”
When Jerry led me around to the back of the last house, we recognized the row of little pots on the patio and the overly sweet strains of flower days and rainbows. Again, Megan wasn’t surprised to see us.
“It’s my friends from the lake, hello.”
Jerry looked around. Floors had been laid in and walls painted, but all the rooms were bare and unfurnished. “Nice digs you’ve got here. How’d you get in?”
“The door was unlocked. Care for tea?”
“I’d love a glass.”
I didn’t think it wise to drink anything Megan served, but I followed Jerry’s lead. “That sounds nice, Megan, thank you.”
Megan had set up camp in what would have been a dining area, her meager possessions and collections of wind chimes, candles, and scarves spread about. I wondered how she could have tea without a fire or electricity, but she produced a large jar from the back stoop.
“Sun tea, courtesy of nature herself, and sweetened with honey.” She found two smaller jars and emptied them of lord knows what before pouring two helpings of the tea for Jerry and me.
“Thank you.” Jerry didn’t drink but gestured with the jar to the room. “You know you won’t be able to stay here for long.”
“Quite all right. I enjoy the gypsy life.”
“Me, too.”
; “Do you really?”
“Taking chances on the wind, finding comfort in the sheltering roots of trees, sharing the protection of a cave with the creatures of the forest.” He didn’t say, running from the police, hiding in trash cans, and making mad dashes for the border. Megan was entranced. I used Jerry’s distraction to tip my tea into the nearest flowerpot.
“You and I are kindred souls, Jerry Fairweather.”
“More than you know, Megan.”
“Are you also in the play?”
“I’m writing songs for the show.”
Megan rearranged two of her wind chimes. “I’m only going to stay here a few days. When I perform in the show, I’ll find a place closer to the theater.”
Jerry pretended to take a sip of tea. “I hate to bring bad news, but you didn’t get the part.”
“Who did?”
“Looks like Amanda’s going to do it.”
For a moment, there was an actual flash of emotion. The wind chimes clashed discordantly in her hands. “Amanda? Oh, no, I don’t see that. What does she know of Emmaline’s struggles? She cares only for luxury.” She took a breath. “No matter. The committee will soon come to their senses and see that I am the only choice for the role. Until then, I’ll perform Emmaline in my heart.”
Was Megan aware of anything other than the play? “Megan, did you know Amanda’s been accused of murdering Harold Stover?”
“She murdered someone?”
“I’m trying to prove she didn’t. Saturday, after Jerry and I dropped you off near the park, did you go anywhere near Park Street?”
“Park Street?”
“That’s where Harold Stover lived.”
“No, I didn’t go there. The vibrations are all wrong.” She had a moment of concern. “Why are you asking me these questions?”
“I thought while you were wandering around looking for a place to stay, you might have seen someone or something suspicious.”
“I can’t imagine what you mean. I live in peace and harmony with all living things. I don’t live with suspicion. More tea?”
“No, thank you.” I handed her my empty jar.
Somehow during the conversation Jerry had managed to empty his jar, as well. “I’d like a little more, please.” As she filled his jar, he said, “Megan, how did you get across the lake at Camp Lakenwood?”