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

by Wendy Wang

  “No, if it did then Charlie would have definite problems because she has so many boys who are sweet on her,” Daphne chided.

  “Oh my god,” Charlie said, losing patience. “Did you two come in here just to give me a hard time or do you plan on being useful?”

  Daphne gave her a sly smile.

  “Then get out. Go do something else.” Charlie waved her hand at them shooing them.

  “Charlie has a boyfriend, Charlie has a boyfriend,” Daphne sang in a childlike voice.

  “Daphne,” Lisa scolded. “What are you, nine?”

  “Oh, you're just jealous,” Daphne snapped.

  Lisa threw up her hands. “What the hell do I have to be jealous about? I have a boyfriend.”

  “I know, and that's all he will ever be.”

  “You do realize that we’re not defined by our relationship status, right?” Lisa put her hands on her hips and cocked her head. She frowned.

  “All right, that's enough,” Charlie said, using the same tone that she used with Evan when he talked back. “God, I can’t take your bickering tonight. I like Tom and yes, he likes me but we cannot date at the moment. But I'm not gonna rule anything out for the future, okay? For now, just back the hell—”

  The sound of someone clearing their throat stopped Charlie mid-rant. She straightened up and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Dammit. She turned toward the source of the sound.

  Tom stood in the doorway. He raised his hand and wore a sheepish smile on his lips. “Please, don't let me interrupt.”

  Charlie's face burst into flames, and she offered up a weak smile.

  “You must be Tom.” Daphne rose to her feet, smiled in an exaggerated way and stretched out her hand. “We haven't met formally. Although I do believe you've come into my shop. Who does your hair?”

  “Daphne, Jesus, back off. Let the man breathe. He obviously doesn't need the kind of work you offer at your salon,” Lisa chided.

  “What? Everybody needs a good stylist.” Daphne sniffed.

  “Yes, they do.” Tom smiled and flashed his gaze toward Charlie. “I'd be happy to give you my business.”

  Daphne gave Lisa an up-yours look and let go of Tom's hand. “Well, stop by the shop any time. I'll make sure that you get in no matter how busy I am.”

  “Thank you.” Tom nodded. “Evangeline said that you were in here. Anything I can do to help?”

  “I'm almost done.” Charlie pointed to the table. All the plates and silver were in place.

  “What should I do with this?” He held up a bottle of dark amber liquid in an elegant curved bottle.

  Charlie chuckled. “You should give that to Uncle Jack.”

  “Rye whiskey?” Lisa took the bottle and inspected it. “Russell’s Reserve. Daddy may just fall in love with you.” She handed the bottle back to him.

  “A little bird told me that was her uncle’s favorite.”

  “Yes, it is.” Lisa nodded. “Well played. You’re definitely hitting all the right marks.”

  “I'll be the judge of that,” a voice said as it entered from the other door leading to the living room. “How do you do there, young man?”

  “Good evening sir,” Tom said. “I take it you’re Uncle Jack.”

  “I am,” Jack said. “I don't think we’ve been formally introduced. “

  “No sir, we haven't. I'm Tom Sharon and this is for you.” Tom offered him the bottle of whiskey.

  Jack whistled and then smiled. “You sure know the way to a man's heart. You sure you don't want this one as your boyfriend? I'll take care of the first one.”

  Charlie laughed nervously. “Nobody needs to take care of Scott. Okay?”

  “You sure?” Jack said. “I always thought he'd make really good crab bait.”

  “That's really not necessary.” Charlie shook her head.

  “Remind me never to get on your bad side then,” Tom said.

  “It's not daddy that you need to worry about.” Lisa’s tone was light but there was a darker warning beneath.

  Tom's gaze leveled on Lisa, and the smile he wore disappeared from his face. He tipped his head a little. “Of that, I have no doubt.”

  Lisa nodded.

  “Come on, Tom. I'm done here. Why don’t we go out back, and I'll show you the river,” Charlie grabbed Tom by the elbow and ushered him through the house before he could respond. He followed her down the back steps, and they walked side by side across the wide expanse of lush green grass. They passed the little shed that housed her uncle’s lawn tractor and other gardening tools. He walked close enough that the back of his hand brushed against hers every once in a while. The touch of his skin sent a thrill through her, and even though she knew better, she didn’t put a stop to it.

  “So how has your week been?” They moved onto the short path through the pine trees lining the shore.

  “It was,” Charlie hesitated “busy.”

  Charlie stepped onto the wooden deck built on the edge of the embankment and headed down a steep set of steps leading to a T-shaped dock.

  A small Jon boat rested on the very end of the left side of the T. A larger boat was hoisted into the air by a boatlift running parallel to the dock.

  Charlie walked all the way to the end and stopped. She folded her arms across her chest and breathed in the briny marsh air. The setting sun glinted across the water winding through tall golden marsh grass like a smooth gray-skinned snake.

  “It's very beautiful here,” Tom said sidling up next to her.

  “This is my favorite place in the world.”

  “I can see why.” Tom shoved his hands into his pockets. “I like your family.”

  “Well, it seems they like you too. Maybe you should date them,” she teased.

  Tom laughed. “Maybe I should.” His arm brushed against hers and he rocked on his feet. “Can ask you a strange question?”

  Charlie chuckled. “Can I stop you?”

  His eyes narrowed but a grin played at the corners of his mouth. “No.”

  She shrugged. “Go ahead then.”

  “Evangeline is not married to Jack, is that correct?”

  Charlie laughed out loud. “No, they are definitely not married, although, they sometimes spar like married people. Jack was married to my Aunt Dede. Evangeline is Dede’s sister.”

  “Is she your mother’s sister too?”

  “No – my father’s.”

  “Well, you’re all very close. It’s nice to see and be around.”

  “They are definitely a lot of fun.”

  “I do find one thing curious though.”

  “What's that?”

  “Why you call Jack uncle and his wife aunt, but you don't call Evangeline the same.”

  Charlie toed a screw that had worked itself out of the wood about an inch. “She just always wanted us to call her Evangeline. Payne women are quirky that way, I guess. We called our grandmother Bunny because everybody else did. Her real name was Florence, and she always said, she was too young to be somebody’s grandmother.” Charlie laughed at the memory.

  “I see.”

  “Do you have any other questions about my family?”

  “Just one. Your son isn’t with you tonight?”

  “No, he’s spending the night at his grandmother’s.”

  “I see. I'm sorry I won’t get to meet him.”

  “Now it's my turn ask you a question.”

  He laughed and gave her a sly grin. “You may ask.”

  “Exactly why did you show up at the café today?”

  “I actually did come in to get some dinner. You being there was just a bonus.”

  Charlie’s stomach flip-flopped and heat flooded her cheeks. She quickly glanced away. “I see.”

  “I know we can't date right now. But I do like you and if we could at least be friends . . . ”

  “Friends are good. I can always use another friend.” She leaned slightly into him.

  “Well, that settles it.”

  Charlie let her g
aze drift back to the marsh grass. It had been so long since she'd felt so comfortable with a man. She swallowed back the bitterness coating the back of her throat. It was so unfair that Scott could date whomever he wanted but she couldn't. Even though she was glad of it, friendship seemed a hollow consolation prize.

  Chapter 22

  Charlie flipped open the folder on her lap and thumbed through some of the still photographs that Jason had dropped off this morning for her to look at. He'd spent hours going through the video from Haley's security system. He had mentioned seeing some interesting things, but it wasn't until he had slowed the footage down frame by frame that he captured images of something. He'd given her the photos because what he captured made no sense to him.

  With a quick glance to her right and then her left, she made sure no one was watching her. She shifted in the chair right outside Scott’s hospital room, waiting while Evan visited with his dad. Scott had asked her to stay, but she thought it more important Evan have some time alone with his dad since he hadn’t seen him in almost a week. There were a couple of nurses at the station but they appeared to be too engrossed in their work to notice her.

  Her nostrils flared as she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She laid her hand on top of one of the photos and let her mind drift. Images flooded her head.

  Scott’s door opened, and Charlie opened her eyes. Evan appeared, his slim tanned face more solemn than usual.

  “Dad wants to talk to you.”

  Charlie snapped the folder closed and shoved it back into the tote at her feet. She stood and gave Evan’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You wait here, okay Bud?”

  Evan nodded and took a seat. Charlie took a deep breath and forced a smile before entering the room.

  “Hi.” She cringed at the perkiness in her voice and knew Scott wouldn’t buy it. Her lips stretched across her face making the muscles taut. “You look so much better.”

  “I feel better. I'm hoping they'll let me out of here in a few days.”

  A pang of disappointment spread through her chest. She wanted Scott to get better she really did, but she wanted more time with Evan.

  “That's great.” The muscles in her face began to ache.

  “Will you please wipe that smile off your face. You're not fooling anyone.” He scowled.

  Charlie dropped the fake smile. “Oh thank God.”

  He held out his hand and softened his tone. “Will you come sit by me?”

  Charlie took a seat in the chair next to the bed. She didn't take his hand. His lips curved downward, and he dropped his hand back to the bed. His fingers bunched up the light cotton blanket covering his legs, in a fist.

  “What’s going on?”

  “They told me I died. Did you know that?”

  “No one told me.” Charlie met his intense gaze. “Do you remember what it was like?”

  His eyes became glassy and distant. “Yes. I saw… you.”

  Charlie called up a smile, only this time it was real. “Where was I?”

  “I think you were at work.” He peered into her face. “You had on one of those, headset things.”

  “Okay,” she said softly. “Do you remember what you saw? What you…felt?”

  “Not really. Just you. You saw me, didn’t you?” He whispered as if saying the words aloud would give them too much credence.

  “Yes.” There was no more reason to deny it.

  “All these years I've known you were intuitive. Shrugged it off when you would say or do things that were outside the confines of logic. I know I made you feel —” He paused and blinked away shiny wetness glazing his eyes. “Crazy.”

  “Yes.” She mouthed the word.

  “And Evan he’s . . . so much like you. Do you know what it’s like to love someone so much who reminds you of someone —”

  “You hate?” Charlie asked.

  “No. Someone who broke your heart.”

  Charlie could taste salty tears in the back of her throat. Her voice cracked and she sniffled. “Just for the record. I know exactly what that feels like.”

  “How do we get it back?”

  “Get what back?”

  “Us.” Pain twisted his expression. Had she ever seen him so vulnerable before? Not that she could remember. “I miss you so much, Charlie.”

  “Oh Scott.” Charlie sat back in her chair, mulling over her words, choosing them carefully. What would happen if she said the wrong thing? Would he banish her from Evan’s life forever? She took a deep breath.

  “Do you know why I left you?”

  “Because you didn’t love me anymore.” His fingers tightened around the blanket and his sharp chin jutted out a little.

  “No,” Charlie said. “Because you never believed in me. Because I felt less than.”

  “Less than,” he parroted.

  Charlie shrugged. “It doesn't matter now. It’s all water under the bridge.”

  Scott opened his hand, turning it palm up. “I believe in you now.”

  Charlie stared at his hand, watched as his fingers twitched, beckoning her to take it.

  “Come home. I can be different. I am different.

  Charlie took his hand in hers and rose to her feet. She leaned over him looking him straight in the eye. It would so easy to move back home and start over. All her worries would be over and there would be no chance of losing Evan. Tears leaked from her eyes. “You will always be my first love, but you are not the only one who’s changed. I’m sorry but I can’t.” Quickly, she pressed her lips against his forehead. “If you really want to believe in somebody unconditionally, believe in Evan. He's the one who needs you to.”

  Scott closed his eyes and his shoulders sagged. “He told me this would happen. I guess I should have listened.”

  “What? That I would reject you?” She sighed. “I guess it's so clear that even an eleven-year-old could see it.”

  “No, he told me he told me that I should get my lungs checked after my bike accident. I told him I was the doctor and to stick to being a kid.” Painful silence reared up between them broken only by the beep of the machines monitoring his heart. “I don't know how to fix this, Charlie. How do I fix this?”

  Charlie sat on the edge of his bed and took his hand in both of hers and steadied her gaze on his. “The first thing you can do is take him off that medication you have him on. I know you thought it would help him focus. But all it does is make him feel nothing. And for somebody like Evan or me — not feeling is akin to death.”

  “But he feels so much. Too much for someone his age.” Scott's lip quivered, his jaw tightened. The heart monitor beeped faster as his blood pressure went up.

  “Listen to me,” she said softly. “The only way for Evan to learn how to deal with his feelings is to feel them. All we need to do is love him and support him. But most of all we need to believe in him. Do you understand?”

  Scott lay back against his pillow and closed his eyes. “I’m very tired all of a sudden.”

  “Okay.” Charlie slipped her hand out of his and stood up. She brushed the back of her hand across his cheek. “I'll let you get some rest. Please think about what I said.”

  Scott put his hand over hers, holding it to his cheek. He nodded and let it go. Charlie rose from the bed and slung her messenger bag strap over her shoulder. Halfway out to the door he said, “Charlie. I love you.”

  Tears stung the back of Charlie's throat. “I know.”

  “I really am different you know.”

  Charlie smiled through unshed tears. “I know.”

  Chapter 23

  It was only ten o'clock but Emma Winston could barely keep her eyes open. She couldn't remember the last time she'd gotten a good night’s sleep. Bad dreams had plagued her since that night ten years ago, but she'd always managed to get enough rest to be functional. Since Haley's death, sleep had become almost impossible. She climbed into bed and stacked the pillows behind her so she could sit up. She pulled her Bible from her nightstand and placed it on her lap
. Then she reached inside the drawer and pulled out her thirty-eight special. It was stupid to think the gun would do any good against a ghost but it made her feel better to have it close. She checked the safety and then set it down on the bed next to her. Her white Persian cat jumped up on the bed and meowed at her before settling in next to her feet. Emma opened the Bible and brushed her fingers over the words of Psalm twenty-three.

  “Yea though I walk through the valley of death I will fear no evil. Do you hear that, Brianna? I will fear no evil!” she said to the empty room. Part of her waited for some sort of response but most of her was grateful that it didn't come. She laid one hand on the Bible spread across her lap and the other hand on her gun, ready for anything.

  The sound of growling and spitting roused her from sleep. Her eyes fluttered open and as soon as her brain and body caught up with what she saw her heart sped into overdrive, slamming against her rib cage, beating its way to the back of her throat. Her fingers tightened around the handle of her weapon, and she raised it up pointing it directly at the diaphanous glowing Brianna Fiorello.

  The spirit’s eyes were darker than she remembered the girl’s ever being. An unreadable expression on her pale face. Her cat stood guard at the end of the bed, goofed up like a big white cotton ball, her back arched. Her cat growled louder.

  “Get out of here, Brianna,” she said, her voice shaking almost as much as her hand.

  “Do you think that will work? Do you really think you can kill me again?” Brianna spoke in a voice that sounded like knives scraping cold porcelain.

  “I will do whatever it takes to get you out of my life, Brianna, once and for all.”

  The spirit threw back her head and laughed.

  “You think this is funny? You think it was funny to kill Haley?”

  “No funnier than when you killed me.”

  “It was an accident. We did not kill you.”

  “You just keep telling yourself that. Whatever helps you sleep.” Brianna chuckled and faded into nothing. Emma blinked hard and looked around, expecting her to pop back up again. Her cat growled and hissed one more time before finally meowing. She headed back toward Emma's lap, displacing the Bible. Emma dropped her hand holding the gun and let the weapon lay on the bed. Then she scooped up her cat in her arms and scratched the ball of fluff behind the ears.