by Tess Lake
Four years ago, Kyle had met a woman online and had told his friend a little about her. She lived in a seaside town and there was an island not far offshore. Kyle thought he was in love, so he moved himself and his daughter across the country and then promptly vanished.
Franklin had spent the last few years obsessively looking for his friend, traveling to every seaside town he could find that fit the description. When he had heard the skeletons of a man and the child had been dug up on Truer Island, he’d come to Harlot Bay.
He’d contacted Carter to meet with him in secret behind the soundstage at the Festival of Lights (a public location) because he was paranoid and feared he was being watched. Franklin was right – Jason Greenway knew about Franklin and in a moment of impulse attacked both him and Carter, leaping out of the darkness like a monster. Jason confessed to this and also to setting fire to the lighthouse after luring me and my cousins there.
Motives for all this were less clear. The discovery of the bones had made Schapelle and Jason lose their minds at the prospect of being caught. Apparently Schapelle had decided they should start by killing me and Carter and go from there.
The stupid thing was they might have never been caught if Sheriff Hardy hadn’t seen Jason tailing me through town.
I only found this out after they were both safely in custody. It was a slightly unnerving idea to discover I was used as bait.
Now it was over, but not quite, and I had amends to make.
I left Molly and Luce out on the street and went into the Hardy Arms. Franklin opened his hotel room door and let me in. He sat down and started typing on his laptop without saying anything.
I sat on the bed, feeling extremely awkward.
Okay, here goes…
“So, I came to apologize. I was the one who talked to Sheriff Hardy about you.”
“Doesn’t matter. The murderers got caught. It’s done,” Franklin said in that clipped way he had of talking.
“It does matter. I’m sorry I suspected you and you were locked up because of it.”
“You did it because I’m different. You saw me and thought there was something wrong with me, so you told the police and they arrested me and put me in jail,” Franklin said, continuing to type.
I felt a flush of shame.
“Yeah, I guess I did. Anyway, I’m really sorry.”
“Thank you for helping my friend,” Franklin said, still not bothering to look up.
I let myself out of there, still feeling fairly ashamed of myself. I was happy that Franklin was out of jail and I was very happy that Schapelle and Jason would be facing justice but I still had too many questions in my mind to find calm quickly.
I hadn’t seen Jack since last night and even then it was all a blur. I think he’d said some comforting things to me but I really couldn’t remember a thing.
I was feeling down when I left the Hardy Arms. Then I saw Jack standing with Molly and Luce, talking to them.
He smiled at me when he saw me and for a moment it was like the sun coming out from behind a cloud. He left Molly and Luce and walked over.
“How are you doing, danger girl?” he asked.
“Danger girl? I guess I’m okay… Gluteus Maximus.”
Jack was wearing a simple black T-shirt and a pair of blue shorts and flip-flops. His legs were covered in bruises and so were his arms. The battle scars from the Gold Mud Run. I was the same, the insides of my forearms turning purple and green.
“So I hear Sheriff Hardy got his man and woman. That’s good news,” Jack said.
“I don’t want to talk about that.”
I didn’t really know where I was going when I said that, but after having a gun pointed at me, I suddenly realized the cliché was true: life is short.
“What do you want talk about?” Jack said.
“I want to talk about us going out on a nice normal standard date, unlike all the other ones. Dinner and a bottle of wine. No crazy family, no sitting in the park eating a sandwich, as delicious as it was, no jumping off high towers after sneaky kisses.”
“Oh, so they were dates, were they?”
“You’re avoiding the topic,” I told him.
Over Jack’s shoulder, I could see Molly and Luce gathered together watching us closely. Pretty soon one of them was gonna make that squeeing noise, I was sure of it.
“Come around here,” I said, taking him by the hand. I led him around the corner of the Hardy Arms to find a little privacy.
Around the side of the building was in shadow and slightly cooler. I was still holding his hand and we were standing close. My heart was fluttering and I felt that same excitement from yesterday. I was going to give him a kiss and he was going to kiss me.
The moment trembled but then the smile on Jack’s face floated away and he turned serious.
“What’s wrong?” I said.
“I have to head back to Canada to wrap some things up. Property, and there is some family stuff happening. I don’t think it’s going to be quick.”
He’s a tourist slipped through my mind as fast as a silver fish in the sea. In its wake came bitterness and a sharp spike of anger that I’d been a fool to think a tourist was not a tourist.
As fast as it came, I pushed it away. I wasn’t being fair. Just because I was hurt that he was leaving didn’t mean that had anything to do with me and him.
“How long?” I asked.
“It could be a few weeks. It might be longer. There are some complicated things happening. But I wanted to let you know something.”
He stepped closer and squeezed my hand. I swear since yesterday in the mud, that mud was all I could smell. But then there was him. That scent again. Aftershave or him, whatever it was, it was divine. I could feel the rough patches of his skin against my hands. I looked up into those eyes that hovered between blue and green. Here in the shadow of the Hardy Arms they were tending towards blue.
“I wanted to tell you that I really like you and I am coming back. That’s why I have to go. I’m settling up my property and some other things back there and then I’m moving to Harlot Bay. There is no pressure or anything and I know I can’t ask you to wait for me. But I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
All kinds of sentences bubbled up into my mind. Promises that I would wait for him, cheeky comments designed to get a smile, something serious, saying that I hoped he would be back soon. These words all fell away when Jack moved closer, and I did too, and we kissed.
This was no quick peck on the top of the tower before he dived away. It was no accidental kiss in a park before I ran off to follow a ghost from the past. We kissed there beside the Hardy Arms and for a moment all was right in the world.
We pulled apart only when we heard Molly and Luce gasp, “Oh my Goddess!”
Jack blinked slowly like he was dazed. I felt the same way. Like I’d been drugged. I looked across at my cousins, who were standing there with their hands over their mouths.
I shooed them away, but the moment was over. Jack squeezed my hand again.
“I’ll write to you,” he said.
“Do you want to exchange phone numbers now? Live in the current century?”
Jack shook his head.
“I’ll write you a letter, it’ll be fun. See if you can write me a good one back.”
“I’m a pretty good writer, you know,” I said.
Jack stepped forward and kissed me on the cheek and then he was gone, walking away to jump in his truck to drive out of Harlot Bay.
My cousins were back in an instant, squeeing and squealing in a moment which then doubled in intensity when I told them that he was going away to settle up business before moving to Harlot Bay. The fact that he was going to write me a letter was so romantic that Luce and Molly practically melted into the sidewalk.
That was where Aunt Cass found us: Molly and Luce lost in dreams and me contemplating the ocean in the distance. She’d evidently run out of people to tell her story to, so she demanded we take her home.
&nbs
p; Despite their injuries acquired from the spell (cracked ribs, bleeding wounds), the moms were back at work at the bakery, capitalizing on the Gold Mud Run competitors and tourists in town. Luce and Molly had considered opening Traveler but were both too exhausted. Besides, as Molly had explained, Will and Ollie would be coming over later and I was given instructions to make myself scarce.
I knew how to take a hint… and a direct instruction. We had a quick lunch and then I walked out and up into the forest. I was wandering around between the trees with the sun beaming down when I heard Holly from behind me.
“Hi, Harlow!”
Holly was pale and see-through, like any other ghost. The leaves were no longer moving under her feet. Whatever power had given her any connection with the real world was obviously rapidly fading.
She walked over to me and I crouched down to her level, feeling my legs ache from the run yesterday. In between the trees in the distance I saw her dad watching. He quickly looked away when I met his gaze.
“My dad is shy around people sometimes,” Holly said.
“I met your dad’s friend. He didn’t like to talk much either.”
“Thanks for helping us get those bad people. They’re going to be punished, aren’t they?” Holly said.
I nodded, feeling tears spike the corner of my eyes.
“You were very brave,” I whispered.
Holly suddenly stepped forward and hugged me. For a moment I felt arms around my neck, the weight of a little girl, her hair brushing against my face, that clean new smell of a child. Then, like any other ghost, she shot away from me and landed on her back in the grass, laughing.
“That was fun! Again!”
Holly ran at me and bounced off, flinging across the grass. I couldn’t help but laugh.
Holly stood up and brushed imaginary dirt off her hands.
“My dad was waiting for me. We’re gonna go now.”
She waved at me and I felt a surge of happiness splash over me. It was like the moment the sun comes out from behind a cloud, and I knew that for years to come, this spot in the forest would make people feel good.
Holly took her dad’s hand. He nodded at me with an awkward smile and then they shimmered away. They didn’t vanish to appear elsewhere. They moved on to somewhere different.
Somewhere good.
Chapter 23
“Molly and Luce aren’t doing anything. They could help, you know,” I grumbled as I hefted the box of fireworks.
“They’re busy being grade A snitches. You’re the only one I trust enough to keep her mouth shut,” Aunt Cass said. She still had her arm in a sling, although I was pretty sure Doctor Ferguson had told her she didn’t need it anymore. The phrase hovering in my mind was milking it.
We were walking up through the forest around the back of the mansion, heading for yet another abandoned stone cottage that was now illegal fireworks storage. The Slip witch power of seeing the past was well and truly gone (for which I was very thankful) so there was no risk of running into skinny ghost pirates.
To be honest, I was happy it was just me helping. This was the first alone time I’d had with Aunt Cass in the past two days, and I was determined to find out what she’d meant by the fathers are gone. I also had a lot of questions about what I’d seen their teenage selves doing. Once I got some answers here, then it was time to tell the family about the possible treasure hidden in the cave. Even if it wasn’t there, I’d still promised the pirate I’d put his bones to rest.
“Should leave these in the mansion. It’s not like Mom and everyone else doesn’t know you have fireworks anyway.”
Aunt Cass crooked a finger at me.
“Ah, but they only think they know. They don’t have definitive proof.”
“Sheriff Hardy knows too.”
“Yeah, well, I saw him picking his nose and eating it, so he better keep his mouth shut unless he wants that spread around town.”
“Really? Sheriff Hardy? Pray tell, how old he was when this alleged nose-picking took place.”
“He was three, but my point still stands. Once a nose picker, always a nose picker.”
“And what things did you do when you were three?”
“I comported myself with decorum,” Aunt Cass said with a sniff.
“Comported?”
“Read the thesaurus sometime.”
We reached the cottage and I stacked the box on top of the others. There was now enough explosive power in this cottage to cause some serious damage. We could only hope there wouldn’t be another mysterious fire.
Aunt Cass closed up the cottage and locked it. Then she cast a misdirection spell on it. I felt the magic brush against me but it had no effect – apparently Aunt Cass did trust me. For a moment I felt happy, until she poked me in the chest with a bony finger.
“Don’t make me regret letting you know where this is,” she said.
“Ouch!”
I rubbed the spot and was about to protest when Aunt Cass’s arms fell to her side. She closed her eyes and when she opened them again they were black, like shiny marbles.
“The guard dies. The tourist betrayed. The sister bewitched. The friend frozen. All forgotten, all lost. Once again, once again.”
Her voice was deep, sounding like it was echoing from a crypt.
My stomach flipped and my blood turned to ice. Aunt Cass swayed in place for a moment and then blinked slowly, coming back to the world.
“What did that mean? What’s happening?”
I was panic, I was fear.
“A prophecy,” Aunt Cass whispered, her head down. A tear trickled down her nose and fell to the ground. It scared me more than a horde of furious ghosts.
I gulped air but couldn’t get enough. My long-held question pushed out.
“What did you mean, ‘the fathers are gone’? You have to tell me! Did you see me when you were a teenager?”
Aunt Cass looked at me. The dark sorrow on her face tore at my heart.
“I am so very sorry it is you, my love,” she said and touched my hand.
Light, magic, warmth.
“Forget,” I heard her whisper.
Chapter 24
I forgot.
Hidden Witch
Chapter 1
The house was fully ablaze by the time I got there. The third fire in as many weeks. The first one (in an empty warehouse) was written off as just one of those things that happens. An accident. The second was an empty vacation home that burned to the ground. It was about then people started whispering arson.
Now with the third, they’d be yelling it.
The house was one of a row all built in the 1950s. They had spectacular sea views and were built of very flammable timber from top to bottom in that very special time when building codes weren’t really adhered to very well.
To sum it up: they may as well have built these houses out of literal matches that had been soaked in gasoline.
I had my camera in my hands but I just couldn’t bring myself to take a photo. One of the neighbors was shouting there was still someone inside.
The firefighters were doing their best to contain the blaze. There were two fire engines, and the men were pouring hundreds of gallons of water in through the broken windows, but it didn’t seem to be having any effect. Sheriff Hardy was on the scene yelling at onlookers to get back. It seemed the entire street had come out to watch. I saw Carter Wilkins on the far side of the street taking photos left-handed. His right arm was in a sling for some reason. Whatever it was, I didn’t know and I didn’t care. I’d had just about enough of him and his eyebrows for a lifetime.
I’d been at home lazing around when I’d seen the curls of smoke rising up above Harlot Bay. I’d immediately raced (as fast as you can “race” in a very old car) into town, a fire engine screaming by me on the way.
“She’s still in there!” one of the neighbors yelled out.
The firemen put on breathing gear, heavy masks and gloves. They smashed the front door open and rushed in
to the cloud of smoke. It must’ve only been a minute, but it felt like ages before they came running back out through the front door carrying an unconscious elderly woman between them. They moved around behind the fire engine and immediately put an oxygen mask on her face. It was a minute more before the ambulance arrived and the paramedics took over, loading her into the back of the ambulance before slamming the door shut and racing off to the hospital.
The firefighters continued to pour water on the blaze and it wasn’t long before the flames finally gave up. The smoke changed color to thick black and the red flames ceased flickering in the windows.
I was standing there watching the firefighters pour water into the smoking house when I felt that intuition tingle on the back of my neck. I turned around, expecting to see someone watching me, but there wasn’t anyone there. There was a crowd of police officers and locals, but whoever it was that had been watching me had shifted their gaze.
I took the time to look over the crowd. They say arsonists will often return to the scene of the crime. This part of Harlot Bay was mostly older people, so most of the crowd was at least sixty and over, retired or very close to it. I was pretty sure the old guy wearing board shorts and a Hawaiian shirt wasn’t the suspect.
I finally managed to get myself to take a few photos of the smoking house, my ancient camera taking about a minute between photos. I didn’t really want to report on arson, and given the Harlot Bay Reader was virtually failing on all cylinders, it was becoming clear I wasn’t really a reporter but just someone running a blog that was never going to go anywhere.
Sheriff Hardy was busy talking to someone, so I decided to go home.
My car took three tries to get going, and on the way back to Torrent Mansion it made some horrible squealing noises that sounded very expensive. Now that Molly and Luce were making a bit of money with their coffee shop, they’d offered to lend me some money to get my car repaired, but I just couldn’t say yes. I had to make a go of things myself. As much as I appreciated the offer of charity, I couldn’t accept it.