by Rain Trueax
“Who are you?” Elke asked. When the girl only growled, Elke’s tone turned harder. “Who sent you?”
The girl laughed. It was eerie. She wasn’t particularly large, but in her demented state, she was dangerous especially with those fingernails.
Elke began an incantation to break the spell, but the girl only laughed again. Her master had considerable power, as she should have been weeping with the spell cast off.
“What shall we do with her?” Torre asked.
“You can’t do anything with me.” The voice was not feminine. The laugh was unearthly. It was as if a puppet master was speaking through her body.
“You want to bet,” Elke said with her own laugh. She turned to her sisters. “Can you hold her?”
Denali and Torre nodded. Elke left and returned with handcuffs. Denali had to resist a laugh. Now why did Elke have those? Was there something her sister was into that she didn’t know about? Despite the girl’s struggles and those eerie growls, they held her hands behind her back long enough for Elke to put the cuffs on her wrists. They pushed her into a chair and using a long scarf, tied her to it. She twisted, but it did her no good as the scarf was stronger than her muscles—even when under the influence of a spell.
“What now?” Torre asked.
“Call the police. What else!” Denali said. Her sisters agreed, and they waited with the possessed woman until the police came.
“She on something?” the first officer asked as the girl glared at them.
“Apparently. Why don’t you get her to the hospital and let them check out that possibility,” Elke said with one of her smiles, which had the young officer eager to do her bidding. Using their own cuffs, they took the woman out. She had stopped struggling.
“Did your blocks include humans?” Denali asked knowing her smile was sarcastic.
“That would cost us too many customers,” Torre teased.
“Now do you believe me?” Elke asked turning to Denali. “This happened because Jane Elm’s murder is connected to our family.”
“Okay maybe, but in what way?”
“Not right now. Let’s close the store and head for Mom’s early. After this, I could use a scotch, and we need to talk this over with the family.”
“I’ll meet you there. I need to go home first,” Denali said. “I’ll get the guest list from the earlier shows at Gallery 11. Mom may recognize a significant name.”
“What about the Beringer show?” Elke asked.
She shook her head. “Hopefully the police have it.” The other possibility was whoever murdered Jane took it.
“Well, bring what you have, and we’ll meet you at Casa Hemstreet.” Elke laughed, surprisingly in a good mood considering what they had just experienced.
Driving to her home, Denali thought about the girl, how she had seemed like the living dead and yet looked perfectly normal physically. She knew there were spells, which turned someone violent or even a potion. Who could be behind it and why Mellow Yellow?
Before entering her house, she made sure no energies were within. She had pushed thoughts of Nick from her all morning, but she could do it no longer, as she worried that whatever was going on was aimed not just at her family but at him. She glanced at her watch as she changed into a yellow flowered sundress. She needed to let him know lunch was off. She also wanted to be sure he was all right. He might not believe in a spirit world, but she would throw white light around his home, adding a protection ward. The first wasn’t so much magick as an understanding of energies in the world. Using a good energy to keep out negative ones seemed common sense. The ward was an added precaution.
At Nick’s home, she stopped her car but didn’t get out. She sent out sensors and knew he wasn’t home. He must have forgotten about their sort of date. Concentrating on putting out white light and calling on the elementals to guard the home and him, she didn’t realize he had returned until he came to the door of her car. He knocked on it before she came out of her meditative state and looked into his dark eyes. She rolled down the window. She looked around shaking her head to get her thoughts together, saw his Harley, and knew how deep she had gone, considering the noise it must have made.
“Hi there,” he said with a smile.
“You were out for a ride.” It was silly to say something so obvious. Again, she felt the power of the man, the strength he exuded.
“It clears my head.”
“I can’t meet you for lunch.”
“Okay.” He didn’t ask for reasons but nodded toward the house. “Come in for a drink. I have a bottle of pinot in the refrigerator.”
“I would like to, but I am due at my mother’s.”
“All right.” His smile was a little crooked. She sometimes could see into people’s minds but as with his paintings, she couldn’t with him. Maybe she didn’t need to read his thoughts to know what they were.
“Did the police visit you again?” she asked, to distract herself and him.
He shook his head. “They will be back though. The paper had nothing, but I heard on the news the public is demanding an arrest. Some details of the death have leaked out.”
“I suppose that’s to be expected when it’s unusual.”
“I guess.” He stepped back from her car. “Don’t be late.”
If it hadn’t been so important she reconnect with her family, that they pool their energies, she’d have called to say she wasn’t coming. She had no real choice, but she didn’t like leaving him—especially when she was unsure he understood all he was up against.
“Do you er uh… have nightmares?” she asked.
His smile turned cold. “And you want to know why?”
“Well… you were in the military.” She couldn’t possibly tell him she wanted to know if he’d had nighttime visitors of the sort he didn’t believe existed.
“If the day ever comes when you have a right to ask me that question, I’ll tell you.” He turned and walked into his home.
She sat for a moment aware she’d been dissed and thoroughly. If she hadn’t had a date with her family, she’d have gone after him, and they’d have had it out. It was probably lucky it wasn’t possible. She started her car and drove off.
When Denali parked in front of her mother’s home, she heard the laughter as soon as she got out of the car. She hadn’t expected her grandmothers, Jess and Elsa to be there. She’d never called either of them grandma, which related more to their wishes than her own. The two old women didn’t agree on much of anything. As she walked in the door, she saw that Aunt Rosa had also been invited. It appeared she and her mother had made up their differences. Or had this been the difference?
She smiled as she was pulled into one hug after another. “You should not have stayed away so long,” Elsa said. “What did Boston have that Tucson does not?” She gave a little huff.
“She has to work,” Jess argued, probably mostly to disagree.
“Would you like some wine before we eat?” her mother asked and handed her a glass of chilled chardonnay when she nodded.
Soon they were all sitting in the large living room, Elke on one side of her and Devi on the other. Torre sat next to their aunt.
“Now,” Elsa said, “tell us all about it.” She directed her demand to Denali.
“What?” she asked innocently, taking a sip of wine.
“What?” Jess repeated. “You know very well what.”
Her mother’s mother, Jess wore her hair in a tight bun on top of her head. If she’d ever worn it any other way, Denali didn’t remember. Her father’s mother, Elsa had naturally curly hair and delighted it letting it fly wild. Both were gifted witches but whose specialties were making up potions and doing rituals, not so much the fighting, which Denali, her sisters and mother were more inclined toward. Although her grandmothers had no interest in being part of the detective agency, they did like knowing all that went on and occasionally lending a hand with an incantation or two. Aunt Rosa was determined to stay away from it all and mostly j
ust warned of the risks in practicing the dark arts, which of course, they all argued wasn’t what they did.
Denali repeated, for she had no idea how many times, all she knew about Jane Elm’s death and what the police knew, which appeared to be little in terms of suspects. “With so many people there, fingerprints won’t help,” she finished. “DNA wasn’t going to be useful either as the only blood was from Nick Beringer, and it happened before the murder.”
“Awhile back, I saw a photograph of that painter in the paper. He is sure a handsome devil,” Elsa said with an appreciative wink. “One of you girls should nab him and take him off the market… Or does he have a girlfriend… or I guess these days I should add boyfriend as an option.”
Jess snorted. “Artists don’t have stable incomes. He’s probably an alley cat anyway.”
“He seems nice to me,” her mother said, “but then I wasn’t looking at him as a possible son-in-law, that is if nabbing means marrying.” She laughed.
Denali had always known her family was unusual with half coming from Yaqui shamans and the other from witches and warlocks… or at least she guessed that’s what the males had been, not that they talked about it. It was the women who clustered together, laughed, shared, and supported each other. It was in many ways a matriarchal society especially after her father died. He had been mostly amused by it, at least from all she had seen. She supposed a man marrying into her family would have to have a similar attitude—anything else would mean divorce… at the least.
Celia called them into the dining room where she had put bowls and plates of food to satisfy any appetite from gluten intolerant to vegetarian or someone who ate everything and anything like Elke. Denali tended to pay little attention to what she ate. Her diet was totally for sustenance, without my appreciation of taste, but she realized how Celia’s quickly soothed everyone, brought them together. The flavors, fragrances, and colorful dishes were a feast of the senses.
When they had finished eating, Celia turned down any offers to help her with clean up, and soon the family was back in the living room with more wine, hard liquor for those who preferred it, and tea for the non-imbibers. Her mother stood by the fireplace and said, “Now we get down to business.”
“Have you considered Jane’s death was on Beltane, at least if she was actually murdered before midnight?” Elsa asked.
“And that has meaning?” Torre asked. “I mean it’s the beginning of summer. How does it relate to a murder?”
“It has many meanings—including being the beginning of sacrifices to protect.”
“And Jane might’ve been sacrificed?”
Elsa shrugged her shoulders. “Not saying she was, but can’t ignore a date, can we when it’s one like that.”
“It could be coincidence,” Elke said. “Today we had a young woman come into the boutique and attack us. I do not believe she was on drugs, although the police will likely assume that.”
“You see that as coincidence to Beltane or would it be the murder?” Jess asked. “It could be to both and neither.”
“There’s more.” Elke demanded Denali relate her nighttime visitor. When she had finished, Elke said, “It’s not just a murder, and I believe the three events show it was directed at us. Maybe Beltane is significant, which we often celebrate but did not this year.”
“And then there was the shaman being used to display the half-nude body,” Jess said.
“How did you know about that?” Denali asked as she hadn’t added it nor had it made the newspaper.
“What do you think I do, sit around crocheting,” she asked with raised eyebrows.
“She wasn’t molested was she?” Jess asked.
“If so, I’ve not heard it,” Denali said. “She was strangled—with one hand.”
“If no assault, why strip her?”
“It was a ritual killing,” Elsa retorted. “That’s why the sculpture and frankly it had to be spirit aided. If a spirit didn’t do it, they have to have given power over to someone.”
“They said it had to have been a really large man,” Denali said.
“They said that because they don’t want to think spirits exist.” Elsa chuckled.
“Nor witches and shamans.” Jess agreed for once.
“A lot exists we don’t want to think about,” Devi said quietly.
“I think it’s an attack on the family,” Rosa said for the first time speaking up. “And it’s Maria’s fault.”
“And how is that?” her mother asked shaking her head.
“You wanted a friendship with Jane Elm. I told you she wasn’t a stable woman.”
“I like art.”
“Yeah and hot painters.”
Her mother laughed. “That doesn’t hurt, but it is not why I bought the Beringers. They have a great energy.”
“I don’t disagree.”
Jess walked to the sideboard and refilled her wine glass. “Let’s get back to the point.”
“Which is?” Devi asked.
“Someone deliberately put a Yaqui touch to Jane’s death.”
“Who created that sculpture?” Denali asked. “It had no name on it.”
“Which means the artist wasn’t proud of the distortion of Yaqui religion,” Jess said with a sneer. “As was appropriate.”
“Excuse me,” Elke protested. “I perform something very like it in some of our rituals, and it’s about drawing the elementals, becoming in tune with nature, and recognizing the importance of sacrifice. Just because I am a woman does not mean I cannot do that.”
“It does to some,” Jess said. “In a sculpture, it was like an accusation or a distortion or…”
“I resent how women are pushed away from important rituals.”
“Resent all you like, but I wondered about it when the piece first appeared in the gallery.” Jess shuddered. “It was looking for trouble.”
“When did Jane get it?” Denali asked.
“August last year, I believe,” her mother answered.
“When in August?” Elsa asked.
Her mother sighed. “The first. She had a party to celebrate it. I remember the looks she gave me as though—you don’t know it all.”
“Lammas,” Elsa said.”
Denali felt the shiver, which told her this was true and spiritually a little frightening—even to someone like her, who rarely knew fear. Lammas, which some called Lughnasadh was the beginning of the harvest, sacrifices were typical then to honor and improve the harvest to come. How ironic to install a sculpture blending animal with human. Had Jane been taking instruction before her mother realized? And from whom?
“Not to change the subject,” Jess said looking pointedly at Elke. “It does rather look like you. You can’t deny that. Did you pose for it?”
“Of course, not. I’d not do anything to demean our family.”
“Does anyone ever watch you do those rituals?”
“Not that we know,” Torre spoke up. “We only do them up at the ranch where it’s wilderness.”
“The other side could watch.”
“We put up protections, of course… You think the sculptor had enough influence to get past our blocks?” Elke asked a little uneasily.
“Since we don’t know who did it, who can say,” Elsa said.
“In regards the sculpture,” their mother said. “Jane was seeking power. I believe now that she made the decision to end our friendship about the time she acquired the bronze. . For some time, she had been resentful that I would not teach her magick. I had never told her about our family. It seemed none of her business. I believe now that she saw it otherwise and thought I was selfishly keeping power to myself.” She shook her head. “She didn’t understand the cost of power.
“Perhaps she began demanding your help because someone had told her part of the truth.” Again, Denali felt a shiver up her spine. The same expression of concern was on all their faces. “Is there a way to find out who that might be?” She looked at her grandmothers.
“And
what about the woman today in the shop? Can we find out who sent her and is behind that spell she seemed under?” Elke asked.
“We might be able to interview her down at the station,” her mother said. “Jace could help.”
Denali was curious as to who Jace was to her mother, but she resisted distracting from the more important issue.
“Could we ask the spirits for help?” Torre asked, concern in her voice.
“We could.” Elsa sipped her wine. “But not without cost.”
“What do you mean?”
“You ask a favor of the spirits, and they want one in return.”
“Wouldn’t it just be enough that they are serving good?” Devi asked, with an ingenuous grin.
“Don’t count on it,” her grandmother said with a laugh.
“Let’s start with what we can do for ourselves and save scrying, if it’s not working,” her mother said with a smile. “We are here to celebrate Denali’s return to the circle. We are more powerful together. We can draw to us what we need—when we need it. There is protection in goodness and the desire to right wrongs.”
“It also makes us a target,” Jess said looking at each in turn before her gaze settled on her daughter. “Not all nighttime visits from the spirit world are playful as apparently the visitor to Denali was.”
“I think we all understand that, Mother, but we don’t have a choice this time, do we? What has been set in motion is not going to leave us alone.”
“Maria, but what if it’s…” Elsa stopped.
“We will face that when we must.” Their mother smiled faintly.
“Are we ready though?”
“I don’t know.”
“I have a question,” Denali said, unable to resist voicing where her thoughts were going.
“And?”
“What if the target of all of this isn’t us but Nick Beringer?”
“What would make you think it might be?” her mother asked looking at her intently.
“Whoever murdered Jane did it after that disagreement with Nick. It seems most likely that person was also Jane’s mentor, someone who had a spiritual connection to the dark side and had set up the disagreement for its own purpose,” Denali said.