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

by Wendy Wang

  “I know,” he said. “But you’ve been around the sort of thing she can see before.” He didn't really want to come right out and say it in the middle of her bustling restaurant. Hey, I think I saw a ghost today. How do I know for sure? No, that was not what he wanted to say out loud.

  “I have been around Charlie my whole life and I have certainly sensed my share of unusual things,” Jen said.

  “I can't really go into the specifics too much but I had a weird thing happen during an interview today, actually it was after the interview.”

  “All right,” Jen said, the lightness gone from her tone. Her usually sparkling eyes darkened. “What did you see?”

  “I think I saw —” How did he put this delicately? “I think I saw something that Charlie would normally see. But that doesn't make any sense to me, because to put it bluntly I'm totally not sensitive, if you know what I mean.”

  “I do know what you mean.” Jen nodded. Do you still have that pendant I gave you? The one I made you wear that night at your mother's house?”

  “Yeah. It’s at my house.”

  “You need to find it, put it on, and wear it. It will protect you.” Her gentle voice was soft but intense. “You also need to buy some salt.”

  Jason laughed. “Any particular brand?”

  “Nope. It's all the same. I want you to pour it in front of your doors and windows and mirrors. The salt is a deterrent for the thing you saw. It can’t cross a line of salt.”

  Jason straightened in his seat, an uneasiness settling into his belly. “You're serious.”

  “I am.”

  “You’re kinda freaking me out.”

  She cocked her head. “Did you really expect anything else from a conversation of this nature?”

  “Well, I was kind hoping you'd say, don't worry about it. I'm sure it was nothing.”

  Jen nodded. “I wish I could say that. Unfortunately, if somebody like you is seeing what Charlie would see, then we’re dealing with something dangerous.”

  He blew out a heavy breath. Why did he feel like he’d just been punched in the gut?

  “It’s gonna be okay. Just make sure you do what I say, and let Charlie know too. She’s got tons of experience with these sorts of things. Maybe she could offer you some advice.” She smiled and the shadow lifted from her eyes. “Now go on. Sit back down, and I'll bring you guys some iced tea.”

  Jason hesitated a minute before he gave her a little salute and headed back to the table.

  Chapter 17

  Charlie pushed aside the lacy curtain covering the window of her front door. Jen stood on the little stoop holding a grocery bag in her arms. Her cousin gave her a wide smile and a little wave. Charlie waved back and quickly opened the door, standing to one side so Jen could enter.

  “I probably should have called,” Jen said. “But I saw your car in the driveway and thought maybe you’d want to hear about what I discovered.”

  “Of course,” Charlie said. “Come on in.” Charlie guided them to the small bistro-sized table where she and Evan ate breakfast on the days he stayed with her. “What’s in the bag?”

  “A craft project.” Jen put the bag down on the table. “If you’re up for it, that is.”

  “Sure,” Charlie said, not sounding exactly enthused. She peeked into the paper bag. Inside were skeins of yarn and embroidery thread. “You weren’t kidding. You gonna teach me to knit?” Charlie teased.

  Jen laughed. “No. We’re going to make a spirit trap and then I’m going to teach you how to use it.”

  “Okay,” she said. “What exactly are we talking about here?”

  “A spell,” Jen started. Charlie opened her mouth to protest but Jen cut her off. “Now before you say anything, it’s a very simple spell. Anyone can do it. Even a child.”

  “Then maybe you should teach it to a child,” Charlie teased.

  “You’re hilarious,” Jen said, putting her hands on her hips. “Charlie, you can do this. I know you think you don't have an ounce of magic in you. But basically, with this, the magic will already be in the object. You'll just act as a catalyst and as long as you believe the words, they will work. A tiny seed of faith in yourself and in the spell is all the magic you'll ever need.”

  Charlie fought the smile trying to emerge. Her cousin’s belief in her made her heart swell. “Fine.” Charlie relented. “But it’s on your head if I blow up something.”

  Jen laughed. “I promise you’re not gonna blow anything up. Now come on, we need to go find some sticks.”

  Charlie gave her cousin a strange look. “What kinda sticks? Like popsicle sticks?”

  “Nope. The kind that mother nature made.” Jen headed toward the door. She threw a glance over her shoulder. “Well, don’t just stand there. It’s getting dark.”

  Charlie quickly caught up with her cousin, and they headed out into the yard. The sun sank low in the sky, grazing the tops of the trees. They walked together across the broad expanse of freshly mown centipede grass. Charlie wore no shoes and the short stiff carpet of grass pressed sharply against her toes and the skin on the sides of her feet.

  Jen explained quickly that they needed to find several hardwood tree branches. Pine wouldn’t cut it and oak was the best, but hickory or pecan would do, too. Her uncle’s yard had several large trees meeting the criteria and they set out toward them.

  “Something interesting happened today.” Jen walked slowly and kept her eyes focused on the ground scanning for twigs that had fallen in the last storm.

  “Yeah?” Charlie asked. “Did Dottie get a new tattoo?”

  “No, not exactly. Although she did get one a couple months back that was kind of interesting. I’ll have to make her show it to you next time you come in. No, Jason Tate came in with his partner and had lunch today.”

  “Yes, I’m sure that was interesting. Marshall Beck can be a little much. I hope you put him in his place.”

  Jen smirked. “Oh, don’t you worry about me. The good lieutenant may not be back.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Nothing really.” She shrugged. “But he may lose some hair for the next week or two.”

  “Jen!” Charlie said.

  “Don’t worry, he won’t go bald.”

  Charlie laughed for a long time. The image of Marshall Beck’s hair falling onto his shoulders without explanation made her sides ache.

  “That wasn’t the strange thing though. Jason was worried about something.” Jen stopped dead in her tracks and picked up a twig.

  “What?”

  “He was worried about something he saw. Wasn’t sure if it was real or not.”

  “What did he see?” Charlie spotted a branch on the ground from one of the old oak trees scattered across her uncle’s property. She picked it up and broke off several of the smaller limbs and handed them to Jen. “Will these do?”

  “Those are perfect,” Jen said taking the branches from Charlie. “He didn’t say exactly. Talked in hypotheticals really. Asked me if I’d ever seen anything the way you see things.”

  “What’d you mean? Like if you’ve ever seen a spirit?”

  “I think so. But again, he was being vague.” She shook her head.

  “I’ll give him a call later,” Charlie said. “Do you think we have enough? Or do you want more?”

  “Let’s just get a couple more,” Jen said.

  Charlie headed toward one of the old oaks covered with silvery beards of Spanish moss. A fine sheen of sweat broke out across her bare shoulders and trickled down her back. The soft fabric of her sundress swayed in the breeze coming off the river and the leaves whispered in the wind. This was her favorite time of day, just before the land was swallowed up by night. In the dark shadows of the woods, the cicada had already started to sing and crickets were chirping. The grass thinned beneath the old oak and pine needles crunched beneath the soles of her feet. Charlie found another fallen branch and broke off several of the smaller twig limbs.

  “I think that shoul
d be plenty,” Jen said.

  They headed back toward the cottage. A light came on in the kitchen of the main house, glowing warm and yellow in the milky gray twilight. A sense of safety washed through her.

  Jen took the twigs and peeled some of the bark and any lichen growing on it. “I want it to be as clean as possible,” Jen explained. “So it doesn’t snag the yarn or the floss.”

  “Yeah, I’d also like to keep the bugs out of the house.” Charlie chimed in.

  Jen chuckled. “That too.”

  Once the twigs were clean enough, they took them inside and Charlie spread a piece of newspaper across the coffee table. Jen placed one twig over another to form a square cross and then took a red skein of yarn from the paper bag and tied a tight loop around the twigs where they touched. She crisscrossed the yarn back and forth until it stabilized the twig cross, forming an X with the yarn.

  “See?” she said holding it up. “It's a cross. Now we’re gonna make it a trap.” Jen coiled the thread around one of the arms of the cross, pulled it tight, making sure to push the yarn close to the center, then wrapped it around the next piece of wood. She continued around the entire cross, several times, until the shape of a yarn square formed. “Now, we just keep expanding it until it forms a nice solid web. Once it’s the size we want, we’ll tie it off and then I’ll teach you a spell that you can say in the presence of the spirit so that you can trap her.”

  Charlie picked up the cross and held it in her hands. Bunny had tried to teach her spells when she was a child and she had always failed miserably. She wasn't sure that Jen would have any better luck. Charlie called up a dubious smile. “Okay. All I can do is try, right?”

  Jason put the bag down on the table next to his front door and walked through the condo heading straight for his bedroom. He had taken off the small silver pendant Jen had given him several months ago and put it into a carved wooden box that once belonged to his mother. Charlie had an identical pendant, but she had several stone beads strung on either side of it. She had told him what each stone did but he couldn't remember what she’d said now. Maybe he should’ve paid more attention and not been so dismissive.

  Something pricked his finger and a sharp pain permeated his fingertip. Quickly he drew his hand out of the box. Blood drizzled down his finger and he stuck it in his mouth, sucking away the pain. A slight metallic taste coated his tongue and he pulled his hand from his lips. The bleeding had stopped and he carefully examined the contents of the box. He confronted the culprit – his twenty-five-year-old Boy Scout pen. The brass had gone almost completely green. He lifted it out and placed it on top of the dresser. He should've gotten rid of the damn thing years ago, but his mother had instilled a bit of sentimentality in him when it came to such things. Finally, the silver pendant glinted in the overhead light. He held it up on the long black silk cord.

  A loud thud came from the dark bathroom drawing his attention. Jason hovered his hand over his firearm holster. He unsnapped the leather strap that held his weapon in place, just in case. The skin on his arms prickled as he slipped into the darkened room. He flipped on the light. The shower curtain rustled and he unholstered his weapon. With his heart hammering in his throat, he swept the opaque blue curtain aside, half expecting to find the ghost of Brianna Fiorello standing in his bathtub. Instead his cat stared up at him with wide green eyes. The tuxedo colored cat was perched over the drain and a bottle of conditioner was now lying on its side on the floor of the tub next to her.

  “Watson? What the hell!” he scolded. “What are you doing in here? You’ve got a water bowl in the kitchen. Go on, get out of here.” It was not the first time he'd had to chase her out of the tub. The cat stood up, stretched her back, and gave him a disdainful glance before jumping over the side of the tub. Jason holstered his gun, feeling stupid. Seriously, what if Brianna Fiorello's ghost had been standing there? What was he going to do, shoot her?

  “Good move, Jason,” he said aloud. He turned around and faced the sink. His stomach dropped like a brick of ice. Brianna Fiorello's ghost stood behind him, staring. Her dark eyes were murderous. She gritted her teeth and tightened her jaw. Jason shook his head and slowly glanced over his shoulder. He could not see ghosts. That was Charlie's job. There was no one there. He closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath before finally looking back to the mirror. Brianna glared at him, her expression full of hate.

  “Brianna?” He muttered. “What are you doing here?”

  “You stay out of it,” she hissed. “Do you understand? Emma is mine.”

  “Brianna,” he started. A banshee’s scream issued from her mouth as she charged forward through the mirror. The high-pitched sound drilled into his head and he covered his ears with his hands, dropping the pendant. Brianna scrambled over the sink.

  Out of the mirror. How could she come out of the mirror?

  Jason pointed the gun at her and stepped backward. His calves connected with the side of the tub and he grabbed for the shower curtain, trying to keep his balance. Something hit him hard and his knees buckled. Pain seared through the back of his head and his vision went gray around the edges. The last thing he saw before everything went black was Brianna's angry face hovering above his, and he felt her icy fingers on his throat.

  An unpleasant fishy scent filled his nostrils exacerbated by an uneven warm air blowing across his lips. Tuna? His eyes fluttered opened. All eleven pounds of Watson – the black and white cat that he’d rescued from behind the dumpster of his building when she was a kitten – sat on his chest. Her legs tensed and her paws pressed hard against his sternum. Her black fur formed a mask over her green eyes. She blinked long and slow, and she purred so loudly it made the ache in his head worse.

  “It’s okay, girl,” he muttered and scratched her behind her ears to put her at ease. Gently he pushed her off him and tried to sit up. Sharp pain shot across the back of his head, down his neck. He took a deep breath and cradled his head in his hands. What the hell had just happened? Jason remembered the feel of Brianna's icy hands on his neck. His heart thudded against his ribs and his gaze shifted to the mirror. The image of her emerging from the glass sent a shiver skittering down his spine. He almost fell on his face as he fought with the torn shower curtain, still clinging by two silver rings to the rod. Finally, he made it to his feet.

  The salt.

  Not even five minutes later, he poured a long thick line of fine white grains in front of the bathroom mirror. Then he went into the bedroom and took down the mirror hanging on the back of the door. He had to dig out a screwdriver to remove the one attached to his dresser, and his fingers shook the whole time. What if she came back? Finally, the last screw fell to the floor and he hoisted the heavy framed glass over his head and took it into the bathroom. He leaned the two mirrors against the wall inside the linen closet attached to the bathroom, lining them up side by side. Then he poured a straight line of salt in front of them, and poured another line of salt in front of the threshold of the closet for good measure. He traced his steps backward and found the pendant on the floor behind the toilet. He fastened the black silk cord around his neck and dropped it inside the collar of his shirt.

  He pulled his cell from his pocket and quickly found Charlie's number in his recent calls. The phone rang three times before she finally picked up.

  “Hey,” Charlie said. “Were your ears burning? Jen and I were just talking about you. She told me about your unusual experience.”

  “Yeah?” His voice shook. “About that – I think I know exactly what happened to Haley.”

  “How?”

  “Brianna Fiorello just attacked me.”

  “Oh my god. Are you okay?”

  “I'm not hurt – well not too bad anyway.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I just poured a whole container of salt in front of every mirror I own though, which is crazy.”

  “No, it’s not,” she said softly. “She’s dangerous. You stay put. We’re coming over.”

  Jason sig
hed and pinched the bridge of his nose squeezing his eyes shut. He leaned against the wall of his foyer and slowly slid down until his butt finally hit the cold tile floor. “How am I seeing these things, Charlie?”

  “We'll talk about it when we get there, okay?” Charlie said.

  “I don't know what to do,” he whispered.”

  “I know, but we do. She's a strong spirit. One the strongest I’ve ever encountered. But it doesn’t mean she can’t be stopped. Jen and I will be there in half an hour tops. We’ll cleanse the house and make sure you’re protected.”

  Watson pushed her head against Jason's elbow and meowed. “Okay.”

  Thirty minutes later Charlie banged on the door. When Jason opened it, Charlie and her three cousins quickly filed into the tiny foyer of his condo.

  “Well, I didn't expect the whole clan,” Jason said. “I'm surprised you didn't bring Jack and Evangeline too.”

  “Now you know very well that Uncle Jack doesn't do this sort of thing, and Evangeline's working tonight. Otherwise she'd probably be here too. She thinks the world of you,” Charlie said.

  Jason's cheeks heated from her gentle rebuke. He laughed nervously. “All right then.” He raised his hands in surrender. “Let the cleansing begin.”

  Jason followed the four women into his living room and watched curiously as they formed a circle. Lisa’s strawberry blonde hair was still coiled and pinned against the back of her head, and her pale gray skirt hugged her slim hips. She looked like she’d just come home from work and hadn’t had time to change. Charlie was more casual, dressed in a pink sundress. Daphne had changed her hair color again since he’d seen her last. The tips of her short brown bob were bright pink and matched the short skirt she wore.

  “Come on, Jace—” Charlie said, gesturing for him to stand next to her. He fell into the circle and joined hands with her and Jen.

  “Blessings be upon us now as we cleanse this place of all those above and below who would do harm,” Jen said. “So, mote it be.”