Waterside Witchery (Lainswich Witches Book 12)

by Raven Snow

  “Surely they won’t go up there while the funeral is going on,” said Eric, his hand frozen over the bag of peanuts.

  Rowen prayed he was right. Fortunately, he was. The van doors remained closed while the service went on. It went on for a while, too. Everyone stood or sat beneath an awning while a preacher spoke. Rowen could just barely make out Edith front and center. No doubt, her brother was seated nearby. Eventually, the crowd began to taper off.

  It was then that Julia Martinez finally got out of her van. She had a new camera man with her, it seemed. She motioned for him to go ahead and start shooting. She didn’t charge in for an interview herself. Considering that she ran things around Channel 2 these days, she could just be looking for some good b roll footage while she updated the story. There wasn’t a microphone in her hand yet or anything.

  Regardless of what her intentions were, the camera seemed to be attracting attention. Some of the people walking away from the service made a beeline for her. Julia didn’t even notice until they were on top of her and it was too late.

  “Roll down the window,” Rowen urged, eager to hear what they were saying. From this distance it was difficult to make out much. The funeral goers didn’t sound happy with her presence, though.

  Behind the commotion, Orville and a woman who must have been a neighbor or something were gently leading Edith to a car. She looked to be crying. That was no surprise. She’d been through a lot today.

  Even with her out of the way, the people from Lichen Hallow kept shouting at Julia. It was, apparently, bad enough that her camera man climbed right back into their van. Julia did a double take back toward him when he did. She probably hadn’t expected to be abandoned. She raised her hands in surrender and followed him in.

  Rowen thought that would be the end of that, but the Lichen Hallow folks still didn’t back down. A few of them got on one side of the van and started rocking it. More people standing behind the van effectively stopped it from pulling out and leaving.

  “Are you seeing this?” Rowen asked, staring. She glanced back at her husband when he didn’t answer and saw that he had his camera phone out. She was tempted to just let him keep filming. This would make for a pretty damning story on the Lainswich Inquirer blog. People would really eat this up.

  Unfortunately, Rowen’s conscience got the better of her. “We should go do something,” she said, already opening the passenger side door. She didn’t know when these people were going to stop. She knew she should probably get in there before someone got hurt.

  “Seriously?” Eric groaned. “Hold up,” he called after her, urgently. “Wait for me.”

  “Hey!” Rowen announced that she was coming long before she actually got there. She held her phone up high. “Stop it! My husband is filming this, and I’m about to call the cops!” That definitely got the attention of the crowd. Rowen felt her heart jump into her throat when they turned on her. “I don’t want to,” she added quickly. “I mean, you guys are just leaving a funeral. Don’t let something like this tarnish your memory of Timothy.”

  The people from Lichen Hallow all stood very still. They stared at Rowen, and it was uncomfortably difficult to determine what they were thinking. Rowen swallowed and was about to take a step back when one finally spat on the ground, toward her feet. A couple others did the same, but they all left. Rowen supposed that was the best she could hope for. She went around to the Channel 2 van’s side door and knocked. “It’s me,” she said, loudly.

  “Are they gone?” Julia asked through the closed door.

  “Yeah.” Rowen stood there and waited for the door to open. “What were you thinking?” she asked once it had.

  “I was just getting some footage.” Julia said, scowling at Rowen. “We do this sort of thing all the time. People don’t normally react like that. I mean, we were keeping a respectful distance.”

  Rowen didn’t recognize the camera man. He was a young but already balding guy who still looked pretty shaken. “Thank you,” he said to Rowen. “You really saved us just now.”

  Julia Martinez shot a glare back at her employee. After a moment, she sighed and looked back at Rowen and Eric. “Thanks,” she said, like it pained her to admit Rowen had done something nice for her. “I’m not sure what they were planning after they tipped the van over. I’m glad I didn’t have to find out.”

  “I’d recommend not getting too close to those folks anymore,” suggested Eric. “And, if you do, maybe consider driving a different van.”

  Julia smirked at that. “Noted,” she said. “I’m not sure I’m going to be heading into Lichen Hallow, myself. I’d heard things about how backwards the people there are. It’s another thing to see it in action, I guess. I’d suggest you do the same and steer clear.”

  “Probably a good idea,” Rowen agreed, even though she knew for a fact that she was going to be heading right back there as soon as tomorrow. It couldn’t be avoided. There was still investigating to be done. “Well, you guys take care.” Rowen headed back to the car. “Did you get all that on video?” she asked once they were in the car.

  “Naturally,” said Eric, getting in on the passenger’s side. “Do you want me to send it to Rose?”

  Rowen nodded. “Tell her to save it for a rainy day, though. We need to take another trip to Lichen Hallow tomorrow, and I don’t want Julia and her crew heading down there out of spite. As it stands, I doubt they’ll go down there for a story at all.”

  “You know, the reception for us probably won’t be all that warm either,” Eric pointed out, like she hadn’t considered that already.

  “Bring it on.” Rowen smiled at her husband. “You’ll be there, right? I trust you to protect me.”

  “I’m glad you have that kind of faith in me,” Eric muttered as he started the engine. “I’m not sure I can take the whole town if they decide to come after us in one angry mob.”

  “Hey, say what you will about Lainswich, but at least they haven’t used pitchforks in a while,” said Rowen. Eric didn’t find it humorous.

  ***

  Back at home, Reginald and Peter’s car was missing, and Peony was home already. She was parked in their spot and couldn’t have gotten home very long ago. It was only now getting dark, and Rose had needed all the help she could get at the paper.

  Rowen headed inside, planning on turning in early with her husband. They had a long day ahead of them tomorrow. They would need to head to Lichen Hallow early enough that they could squeeze in all the interviews they had planned. They hadn’t contacted their interviewees ahead of time. Rowen had sort of waffled back and forth on that front. If it was just for the sake of the paper, she would have given them a courtesy call first. As it stood, she needed to have a word with them whether they wanted that or not, so knocking on the door out of nowhere it was.

  “We’re home,” Rowen announced as she let herself in through the front door of the Greensmith house. The door had been unlocked as it usually was around this time of the day.

  “All right, we’re in here!” called Aunt Lydia in a muffled voice from what sounded like the den. This was followed by some giddy laughter that made Rowen nervous.

  What were they up to? Rowen was tempted to just walk up the stairs to the attic and leave it at that. Unfortunately, as it usually did, her curiosity got the better of her. She headed for the den and peered inside. She couldn’t rightly say what she had been expecting. Whatever she had thought she might see, though… It definitely wasn’t this.

  Aunt Lydia and Aunt Nadine were both standing in the center of the room. Lydia had knelt down in front of her sister with a series of pins in her mouth. She was carefully pinning the hem of a too-long wedding dress. Peony was down beside her, holding the fabric still for her aunt. The dress was long and white with a full skirt that really swallowed up Nadine’s skinny frame. The sleeves had fallen off her shoulders and it was all she could do to hold them up so as not to flash anyone.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Rowen said, flatly.
<
br />   “What?” Lydia looked back and frowned at her niece. “You know we’re engaged. This is what engaged people do. They pick out wedding dresses. You remember. It wasn’t so long ago we were getting a dress for you.”

  “Do Reginald and Peter know about this?” Rowen hadn’t heard Reginald mention anything like this when they had talked yesterday.

  Lydia raised an eyebrow at her niece. “What? Of course they do.” She took the last pin out of her mouth. “They’re the ones who proposed, aren’t they?”

  “But you don’t have a date set yet,” Rowen pointed out. “I mean… do you?”

  “I don’t,” said Nadine. “Though… I’d like a Spring wedding, I think.”

  “I want to get married ASAP,” said Lydia. “We can go to the court house as far as I care. I’m not getting any younger. Why wait?”

  “Have you asked what Reginald wants?” Rowen was beginning to feel horribly uncomfortable about this marriage thing all over again. “I mean, we talked yesterday and he seemed to think that it would still be a while before, you know, wedding bells.”

  “Well, they’re not the only ones with a say in that, you know,” Lydia pointed out. “Speaking of which, don’t tell them what our dresses look like. We sent them away for the evening so that we wouldn’t spoil anything.”

  Rowen wasn’t sure how much there was to spoil. Where Nadine’s dress was too big, Lydia’s dress was far too tight. It hugged and squeezed her in all the wrong places. Like Nadine’s, the skirt was very puffy. It looked like a white princess dress the least popular girl in school would have worn to her high school prom. “And you’re sure you don’t want to think all this through a little while longer?” Rowen had been finally starting to acclimate to the idea. Now things were moving too fast all over again.

  “Don’t you start hassling us like your cousin now,” Lydia sighed. Rowen assumed that she was talking about Margo given that Peony was currently on her knees, helping with the dress. “We’re adults and we’ll make our own decisions.”

  “But-” Rowen began. She felt Eric touch her arm and sighed. He wanted her to come upstairs with him. He was right, of course. There was no point in arguing with her over this. She had already made up her mind not to. “All right, well, good luck with that.” Rowen headed for the stairs. She was just going to have to stay out of that particular can of worms. She had enough to worry about without it.

  Chapter Twelve

  The next day started a little later than Rowen would have liked. Lydia insisted that Rowen and Eric stay for breakfast. “Reginald and Peter had to catch an early flight back to the city this morning. They didn’t have time to stay for breakfast, and I’ve cooked way too much for just Nadine, Peony, and myself. Margo and that boyfriend of hers don’t want to eat breakfast with us anymore, it seems.”

  Rowen felt guilty ignoring her and heading out the door. Reluctantly, she took a seat at the table. “So Reginald and Peter left town?”

  “It’s not like that,” Lydia snapped.

  “I didn’t mean it like anything.” Rowen hadn’t meant for that question to be construed as some sort of insult, though now that she gave it some thought she could see why it might touch a nerve. “I just mean— Was it sudden? It seems sudden. I didn’t hear anyone mention anything about it anyway.”

  “It was sudden,” Nadine said with a nod. “They got a call while they were out last night. There’s an investor they both need to meet with on short notice. They’re not sure when they’ll be back, but hopefully it won’t take too long.”

  Rowen caught Peony’s gaze. Her cousin was looking at her from across the table. Rowen knew they were both thinking the same thing. What if Reginald and Peter had been scared off by the wedding dresses? That seemed like a likely scenario. It hadn’t sounded like either of them planned on getting married immediately, and Rowen’s aunts could be… a bit much. Maybe they’d decided this whole thing was moving too fast for them after all.

  The meal continued in awkward silence. Rowen waited for Eric to finish before excusing them both. “Well, we need to get going.”

  “Get going where?” Lydia asked.

  “Lichen Hallow,” said Rowen, trying to sound nonchalant, like it was no big deal. She didn’t want to make a thing out of this, even if Lydia did disapprove.

  Both of her aunts’ expressions darkened. “Be careful. I keep warning you about that place, and you keep going. Just so you know, you’re playing with fire.”

  “We’ll be careful,” Rowen promised before leading the way out to the car.

  ***

  Once on the road, they had several options open to them. “Who do you want to visit first?” Eric asked, flipping through some documents in their lap.

  “I guess we should start with the parents, shouldn’t we?” asked Rowen. That seemed as good a place to start as any.

  “All right.” Eric flipped through the notes some more. The parents are Fran and Everett Sweet.”

  “Sweet?” Rowen repeated. “I thought Edith’s maiden name was Jones?”

  “It is,” Eric said with a nod. “Her dad died in a construction accident, and the mother remarried. Seems like this happened after all the proverbial chicks had left the nest, so Everett might not have a whole lot of useful information for us.”

  “I hope we can catch Fran alone then.” Rowen hated being manipulative, but that just seemed like the best course of action. She told Eric to plug the address into his phone’s GPS and away they went.

  ***

  The house that Fran and Everett lived in wasn’t very far from their daughter’s. It was a small place. There was an obvious addition built on to the side of it that didn’t match the rest of the house, meaning the home had been even smaller once. It was no place for a large family and yet it must have housed one when Edith was a girl.

  “You ready, Intern Eric?” asked Rowen, her hand on the car door handle.

  “Ready as I’ll ever be.” Eric sat his papers on the console and got out of the car. Together, they walked up to the front door. The first couple of knocks sent a bunch of dogs into a barking frenzy. They sounded small and yippy.

  “Great,” Rowen said, quietly. She had never much been a fan of little dogs. They drooled a bunch and never stopped running around. Rowen much preferred the quiet dignity of an old boy like Chester.

  It felt like at least a couple of minutes worth of barking before the door opened. It didn’t open very wide, going just ajar enough for a woman with short, curly white hair and a couple of dogs to poke their heads out. The dogs were both sporting similar hairstyles. “Yes?” prompted Fran Sweet, regarding Rowen and Eric over the rims of her glasses. “Who are you?”

  “I’m Rowen and this is my intern, Eric. We’re from the Lainswich Inquirer. We’re a small publication that covers news stories from all walks of life. Maybe you’ve heard of us?”

  Fran shook her head without hesitation. “I don’t think I have.” She frowned. “But if you have anything to do with those awful Channel 2 pe—”

  “I assure you we do not, Ma’am,” Rowen said, firmly, as if she couldn’t even stand the idea that her publication would even be compared to Julia Martinez’s. “I heard about that stunt they pulled at your late son-in-law’s funeral. That was awful, downright shameful. I’m sorry you had to deal with something like that.”

  “It’s my daughter I felt for mostly,” said Fran with a nod. “She’s in a fragile state right now. She doesn’t need that kind of nonsense.”

  “You’d think that went without saying.” Rowen shook her head as if disgusted. “I just can’t imagine what they were thinking.”

  “They were thinking they would get a good story out of it.” Fran’s pale blue eyes narrowed. “Just like you’re thinking you’ll get a good story out of this.”

  Rowen realized she would have to be careful. This woman wasn’t stupid. She was suspicious— and right to be suspicious for that matter. “I’m just trying to do my job, ma’am.” Rowen gave Fran what she hoped was
a warm smile. “It’s my job to report the facts. I like to get those facts right, you know? That’s why I’m here. I’d sooner the story that gets printed not just be a whole bunch of speculation on my part.”

  For several long moments Fran didn’t say anything at all. Rowen was beginning to think that she might be leaving without having a single question answered. Just when she was opening her mouth to apologize for taking up Fran’s time, the door opened all the way. “Come on in,” said Fran with a sigh. “I guess it was only a matter of time before you news folks came around. Let’s just get this over with.”

  The inside of the house was a lot like Rowen had imagined it to be while standing on the stoop. There were, at least, six little fuzzy dogs prancing around her heels and jumping at her shins. They yipped and growled as she made her way across the shag carpet, over to where Fran had already taken a seat in the living room.

  Rowen and Eric both sat down on the love seat across from her. It was plastic covered, the plastic, in turn, covered in countless little puncture marks. “Do you mind if I record this?” Rowen asked her standard question, already pulling the recorder out of her purse.

  Fran eyed the recorder with a frown. “I suppose not. I just don’t want it being replayed anywhere where people can hear it. I can’t stand the sound of my own voice on a recording.”

  “Don’t worry. It’s just for me to refer back to later.” Rowen set the recorder on the coffee table between them. “Where’s your husband, if you don’t mind me asking?” She didn’t want him barging in and ruining the interview like Orville had. “I saw that you changed your last name.”

  “Everett is my children’s step daddy,” Fran confirmed. “He’s out on a fishing trip with some friends. He won’t be back until late if you’re worried about him putting a stop to this interview— which I reckon he would try. He’s not a big fan of journalists. He thinks the paper is a bunch of gossip these days. I mostly agree with him. They never report on important things anymore.”

  “Well, if you don’t mind my saying, this murder seems like a plenty important topic to me,” said Rowen.