Witches of Palmetto Point Series Boxset Books 1 - 3: Haunting Charlie, Wayward Spirits and Devil's Snare

by Wendy Wang

  “Are you always this ornery and logical?” She folded her arms across her chest.

  “Absolutely.” He was winning, and he knew it, which pissed her off for reasons she couldn't quite explain.

  “It's really late. Don't you have someone at home worrying about where you are?”

  “I doubt my cat gives a crap honestly. Now who's being ornery?”

  She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

  “Come on Charlie let me drive you. It will make me feel better to know you're safe.”

  She slipped her hand to her neck and massaged the stiff muscles. Her body ached from her skirmish and her shoulders felt heavy with exhaustion.

  “Fine,” she said. “You win. You can drive.”

  “Good.”

  He walked around to the passenger side of his Dodge Charger and opened the door. She slid inside the car, surprised at how comfortable the low bucket seat was. She would have to be careful not to fall asleep. He climbed inside and brought the engine to life with the push of a button.

  A few minutes later they were heading out toward Talmadge Island. Once they were on Maybank highway, the car was plunged into near total darkness.

  “You know you can recline if you want, get a little shut eye before we get there.” He pushed open the door covering his sunroof. Charlie adjusted her seat and stretched out. It was a clear night. Moonless and this far out from the city the stars were thick pinholes of light against the black velvet sky. She took several deep breaths and let her mind drift. Silence crept up between them. Jason stared straight ahead at the dark road and he gripped the wheel tight with one hand.

  “Can I ask you a personal question?”

  Charlie opened her eyes and pressed her hand against her belly. Her stomach twisted into a knot and she directed her gaze to him. The question could be one of a thousand things he’d learned about her in his investigation, but her gut told her it would only be one thing. She braced herself. “Sure. You can ask.”

  “You know I talked to your ex.”

  “Yeah, I know. He called me.”

  “It’s really none of my business but I just couldn’t stop wondering why you gave up custody of your son. It’s a conservative state—judges tend to like to see children with their mothers from my experience.”

  Relief washed through her. “I didn’t give up custody. I still see my son.”

  “Yeah, I know. I just—”

  “Scott and I decided together the best thing for Evan was to make sure his world wasn’t completely upended by our divorce. It was just better to keep Evan in his house, at his school, with his friends.” She shut her mouth, not willing to say anything more. Hopefully that would be enough to quell his curiosity about her.

  “Oh,” Jason said.

  “You sound disappointed.”

  “No.” He protested a little too much. “Why should I be?”

  She teased him. “Maybe you were hoping for more dirt on me.”

  “No. Your ex — there was just something about him. He was sort of—”

  “Smug? Pompous? A jackass?” Charlie had no problem picturing Scott sitting behind his desk, staring down his nose at Jason.

  “Maybe a little of all three.” Jason chuckled. “I guess mainly I wondered what drew you to him, especially since he obviously didn’t believe in you.”

  “Ah.” Charlie straightened her seat. “That’s easy. He was smart and funny and handsome. What’s not to like?”

  “Right. Like I said, it’s really none of my business.”

  “If you want to know the truth, we dated our senior year in college and he knew nothing about my — my abilities until we’d been married for a couple of years.”

  “So you what? Sprung it on him?”

  “Actually, I had no intention of telling him anything about it, but then I encountered his grandmother in our house right after she died and that sort of outed me. There was this big brouhaha with her children over a ruby ring and she wanted to weigh in.”

  “Really? Shouldn’t she have done that in her will?”

  Charlie shrugged. “Yeah, well sometimes clarity doesn’t come till after you die.”

  “Okay. Good to know. What I don’t understand is why your ex still didn’t believe you.”

  “Because Scott doesn’t believe in anything except medicine. He figured there was something mentally wrong with me.”

  “Ah. Is that why you ended up committed at MUSC?”

  “You really did your homework, didn’t you?”

  “I was looking for dirt.”

  “And you found it—” Charlie wanted to be angry, but she wasn’t. She understood why he’d gone looking for things to use against her. His need to protect his mother made more sense than ever now that she’d met his father. “No, that’s not why. After the whole thing with his grandmother, we just didn’t talk about it. It’s like there was part of me that he hated and wouldn’t even acknowledge. But at the same time, he loved me and wanted to make me happy. We traveled, and he showered me with gifts and we had a baby but in the end… it wasn’t enough.”

  “I’m sorry.” Silence crept up between them again and she only spoke to give him directions. When they finally pulled into her uncle Jack's driveway they found him sitting in the creaky swing on the back porch. The only light came from inside the kitchen — soft, yellow and inviting.

  She loved this house and had spent a lot of time here as a kid after her parents died. Her uncle Jack was like her second father.

  Her uncle stood on the top step, his hulking figure silhouetted by the faint light from the kitchen. At sixty-three, he was done looking the part of trusted doctor. He’d let his salt-and-pepper hair grow out to nearly shoulder length and wore a thick silvery beard to match. If it weren't for his daughter's insistence that he at least dress decently he might look like a grizzled old mountain man.

  “That's your uncle Jack?” Jason asked.

  Charlie snickered. Jason barely stood taller than her.

  “Yeah. Come on, he's gonna want to meet you.”

  “Why?” Jason asked.

  “You scared?” she teased. A sly grin spread across her lips and she gave him a sideways glance. “If you're scared, just say you’re scared.”

  “I'm not scared.” Jason sounded offended.

  “Well come on, then.”

  She stepped onto the gravel drive way and waved. “Hey Uncle Jack.”

  “Hey there sweet girl.” Her Uncle Jack might have looked like he could break a person in half, but he had a voice that put her at ease. “You all right?”

  “Yes sir,” she said, slowly ascending the steps. Her body had stiffened during the car ride and every muscle in her back and hips ached. “A little sore but I'm okay.”

  She got to the top step and stood right in front of him. He tipped her chin up so he could take a better look at the bruise blooming across her cheek. He smiled and brushed his thumb over the butterfly Band-Aids holding the gash on her head together.

  “Well looks like he got you good, huh?” Uncle Jack said.

  “Yeah he did. I'm hoping you have a heating pad.” She rubbed the back of her neck.

  “I do,” he said. “But a hot Epsom salt bath will probably do more good.”

  “That sounds marvelous.”

  Jason trudged up the stairs.

  Jack gave him an appraising look. “So you're the young man that's been stalking my niece?”

  Even in the dim light Jason's tan face paled. “No sir,” Jason said cautiously. “I was just looking out for my mother.”

  “Yeah and what did you discover?”

  Jason glanced from Jack's face to Charlie’s. His gaze settled on Charlie’s. “Well it looks like she's the real thing sir.”

  “Yeah.” Jack smiled at his niece. “She is and she'll do right by you, long as you stop being a jackass.”

  “Yes sir,” Jason said.

  Charlie breathed a sigh of relief, glad that Jason didn't pull some macho baloney on her uncle.
Was it an act? Or was he not letting her uncle ruffle him?

  “Well.” Jack’s gaze settled on Jason. “It's late.”

  “You go on in Uncle Jack. I'll be in in a minute.”

  Her uncle scrutinized her face for a moment then nodded and turned. The screen door squeaked and still managed to slam against the doorframe even with a gentle closing. Charlie crossed her arms and faced Jason.

  “Well, I guess you’ll be safe here.” Jason let his gaze drift over her shoulder to the screen door.

  Charlie chuckled. “That’s an understatement.”

  “And you have a ride back to your car in the morning?”

  “I do.”

  Silence swelled between them, enveloping them with awkwardness. Charlie glanced down at her feet and toed the edge of the step. “You know, I didn't thank you for coming to my rescue earlier. So — thank you.”

  “I'm just glad you're all right. Let me know if you have any more of those dreams about that guy.”

  “Sure,” she said. “Does this mean you’re finished investigating me?”

  “For now,” he teased. He touched her arm giving it a gentle squeeze. “Good night Charlie.”

  “Good night Jason.” She fought an overwhelming feeling to hug him. “Drive safe.”

  “You dream safe.” He dug into his back pocket and pulled out a plastic business card case. “I'm serious about calling me.” He plucked a single card from the interior sleeve and pressed it into her palm. “My cell number is on the back. Text me if you need me. I'm actually a pretty good listener.”

  “Thanks,” she muttered. She stayed on the porch, watching until he’d gotten in his car and driven away. A cool spring breeze kicked up wrapping around her and she could smell the river not far off in the distance. At least they weren’t at war anymore. Maybe they could even be allies. She could always use another ally.

  Chapter 22

  Sugar tried to sleep but every time she closed her eyes Honey was there. She still hadn't called the psychic. What was she supposed to say? Hello I'm being haunted by my sister. Do you know how to stop it?

  Help me and I will stop.

  “I don't know how to help you Honey. I never have,” Sugar said to the room. She glanced around half expecting to find her sister lounging in the rocking chair in the corner. It was empty.

  Stop him.

  “I don't know who he is.” Sugar pushed herself up on her elbows. “How am I supposed to stop him?”

  The cell phone on her bedside table lit up. The number displayed was the psychic’s. It began to ring as if she had pressed the Send button.

  “Hello?” a sleepy voice said. The heavy breathing didn’t sound perverse, more like the person had their mouth perched against the speaker. “Is there someone there?”

  Sugar scrambled for the cell phone.

  “Yes, hello, I'm here,” she said. “I'm so sorry to have called you so late. This is Sugar Blackburn, Susan Tate's mother. She told me I should give you a call. That you had questions.”

  There was a long pause but Sugar could hear movement in the background as if the woman was shifting around in her bed.

  “Yes. I would like that very much. Would it be possible though to do it at some other time? My brain doesn’t work very well at three a.m.”

  “Oh yes of course, you’re right. I'm so sorry. I should've checked the time.” Sugar wasn't quite ready to tell the psychic that her sister had done the dialing. To her knowledge ghosts had no real sense of time.

  “No — no worries. I just had a rough night so—”

  “Yes of course.”

  “May I call you back in the morning? We can set up a time and I can come see you. I really do better in person for this sort of thing.”

  “Certainly. That makes total sense.”

  “Great,” she yawned. “My name is Charlie by the way.”

  “It's very nice to meet you Charlie.”

  “Nice to meet you too.”

  “I’ll talk to you in the morning then.”

  “Yes,” Charlie said sleepily. “In the morning.”

  Sugar pressed the red phone icon and turned to the room. “Are you happy now?”

  The rocking chair in the corner began to rock slowly back and forth.

  Sugar glared at the empty rocker. “Honey, you need to leave.”

  The chair began to rock harder. Sugar scowled, grabbed her pillow and the afghan from the end of her bed. She didn’t look at the rocker again as she headed into her living room to sleep on the couch. She was done dealing with ghosts tonight.

  “Oh look, it’s deputy dogged.” Lisa pulled into an empty space at Summerfield Retirement community and put her BMW in park. Charlie had brought her cousin as back-up Friday afternoon. What she didn’t expect was Jason Tate waiting on the sidewalk for them. He wore mirrored sunglasses, a fitted pair of faded jeans and a tight blue t-shirt, showing the cut of his chest and biceps. The scruff on his face had been shaved clean.

  “You be nice,” Charlie said.

  “What? I'm always nice,” Lisa quipped, “And anyway he's not my boyfriend, he's yours.”

  “He is not my boyfriend.”

  “You’re right. He just showed up and rescued you for no reason.”

  “He did not rescue me!” Charlie's face burned, and she tried to ignore Lisa’s yeah-right look. “And he is not my boyfriend so just cut it out.”

  “What? He’s cute and at least he seems to have accepted your unique abilities.”

  “You’re impossible, you know that?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Hey,” Jason said, approaching the car.

  “Hey, I didn’t expect to see you here.” Charlie couldn’t stop the smile spreading across her face.

  “My grandmother called and asked me to come. How you doing?”

  “Much better thank you. I took it easy yesterday and got a good night’s sleep.” Charlie bit back a smile. There was no need to give Lisa any more ammo to use against her. “Just so you know, there was no concussion.”

  “Well that’s good news.”

  Jason clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “So you ready to go commune with the dead?”

  Lisa scowled and gave Charlie a what-the-hell look, but she just laughed. It was good they could joke about it.

  “Lead the way,” Charlie said. They followed him into the lobby and the cool, stale air slapped them in the face. The scent of citrus air freshener coated the back of Charlie's throat but beneath that smell was something else. Something more human — feces, urine, and even the sickly sweetness of death lingered in the under current, reminding her this is where they sent the old to die.

  The floral pattern of dark burgundy carpeting reminded Charlie of her granny's house. She'd had an area rug in her dining room with a similar pattern. Her granny had once told her floral patterns were good for covering any number of stain sins. From food to blood. Once it was cleaned up it just mixed right in with the pattern.

  They walked through the building and Charlie nodded and greeted every person she saw. Lisa stuck nearby. She was never one to particularly like old people or very young people, which was why she had no children of her own at nearly thirty-five.

  Charlie on the other hand liked them all — young and old. Maybe it was just the customer service rep in her, but she thought that every person had something to offer and deserved to be heard. And everybody deserved to be treated with respect.

  Lisa wrapped her hand tightly around her purse strap and her knuckles whitened. “Feels like they're all about to die. Do you sense that?”

  Charlie shook her head. “Not exactly.”

  “He's hovering close though.”

  “Who's hovering?” Jason stuck his head between the two of them.

  Lisa looked him in the eye. “Death.”

  “All right, you two need to stop taking yourselves so serious.”

  “Just because you don't sense him doesn't mean he isn’t real,” Lisa said.

  Jason scow
led. “Come on, her apartment’s around the corner. She likes to sit on the porch in the afternoon and cat-call the golfers.”

  “Sounds like my kind of old person,” Lisa said under her breath. Charlie bit the inside of her cheek, fighting back a grin.

  Jason stopped at number 173. He knocked and turned the knob at the same time. “Gran? You here?”

  Something jerked the door open, and it slammed against the wall. Charlie felt the spirit of the girl immediately, but didn’t see her.

  “Oh-kay, that was weird,” Jason murmured. He took a step forward but something stopped him. His hand went to his throat and his face reddened.

  “Jason?” Alarm rang through Charlie’s chest and she pulled him back into the hallway. His chest heaved, and he coughed. He doubled-over with his hands on his knees sucking in large breathes.

  “What the hell?” he said between gasps for air. His eyes frantically searched the empty doorway.

  “Lisa,” Charlie said.

  “It’s fine, I’ve got him. You go.” Lisa gently touched Jason’s back. “How ‘bout we go find some place to sit while Charlie works.”

  “What was that?” He straightened up and rubbed his throat.

  “I’ll explain everything. Come on.” Lisa guided him back toward the lobby.

  Charlie took a step into the apartment waiting to see if she would suffer the same fate as Jason. Something yanked her forward, and the hinge creaked as the door closed. The lock clicked and Charlie’s heart sped up.

  “Ms. Blackburn? Are you here?” Charlie called. The small apartment consisted of a well-appointed living room and a small kitchen. The pretty floral couch and coordinating chairs faced a media cabinet with a large flat screen TV hanging on the wall above it. “Ms. Blackburn?”

  Charlie pulled her phone from her back pocket and checked the time. They were supposed to meet at two p.m.

  “She's not here,” a gravelly voice came from behind her. Charlie slowly turned. Her heart beat hard against her ribs as she came face-to-face with a teenage girl — or at least she had been in life.

  “Who are you?” Charlie said, softly taking in the girl’s appearance. Her long hair was caked with mud and dark bruises stained the nearly translucent skin around her neck. The red and black of her eyes disturbed Charlie the most. She could not tell what color the girl’s eyes had been when she lived. Perhaps they were hazel like Jason's or were dark brown like Susan's. It was hard to know.