Waterside Witchery (Lainswich Witches Book 12)

by Raven Snow

  Fran shrugged. “I don’t know about that. I mean, the man is dead. It’s not like people reading about it is going to bring him back.”

  Rowen cleared her throat and took a step back in the conversation. “So, I guess a lot of people around here go on fishing trips.”

  Again, Fran shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. I’d think it was a popular past time in most places.”

  “Your daughter Edith told me that Timothy was out on a fishing trip when he was killed,” Rowen explained. “Was your husband a fishing buddy of his?”

  “No, I don’t believe he was.” Fran answered that question a lot faster than it had taken Rowen to ask it.

  “Is Everett close to the rest of your family?”

  “You mean to my kids and their families and so on?” Fran’s gaze went a bit distant, like this part required some thought. “My first husband was a good man. I’d like to think Everett knows he has some big shoes to fill. I had six kids with my late husband. Most of them have kids of their own now. Of course, they’d flown the nest long before I married Everett. I know he would have been happy to fill a parental role, but it hasn’t been necessary. Still, he’s on good terms with all of them.”

  “Not fishing buddies with any of them though?”

  “He is, but never with Timothy as far as I know. I guess you’d have to ask him, but I doubt it.”

  “Why do you doubt it.”

  Fran frowned like she didn’t want to answer that question. “I never much liked Timothy,” she admitted finally. “I think— Well, I’m sure Everett knows that. Not that it matters anymore.”

  “Really?” Rowen would beg to differ. This seemed like some awfully pertinent information. “What was it about him that you didn’t like?”

  Fran fell silent again. They were clearly getting into territory that she wasn’t completely comfortable discussing. “Edith married too young, if you ask me. She wasn’t even eighteen yet. It was still a few months away from her eighteenth birthday. My late husband and I had to sign a form saying we allowed her to get married. She swore up and down that she just couldn’t wait. This was the man of her dreams, she said.”

  “Did you like him at the time?” asked Rowen. On her right, she could hear pen scratching at paper where Eric was taking notes.

  “I didn’t know him that well back then,” Fran continued. “He seemed like a nice enough kid. He minded himself around adults. He even asked my husband if he could have his daughter’s hand in marriage. It was one of them young love, whirlwind romances.” Fran rolled her eyes. “Really, we should have known better.”

  “I’m guessing the honeymoon didn’t last long,” said Rowen.

  “You’d guess right,” said Fran with a sigh. “I don’t know why we didn’t see it coming. I knew that boy’s parents. The whole town knew his parents. His family wasn’t well loved in the community, you see.”

  Rowen remembered speaking with the Lucas family just a couple of days ago. She could imagine where Fran was coming from. They had seemed like the sort of family you wouldn’t want to marry into. “Was your daughter happy with the marriage, at least?”

  “She said she was.” Fran patted the cushion on her right, inviting one of the little dogs up there with her. It hopped a few times before scrambling up onto the sofa. She scratched it between the ears as her gaze went distant. “I believed her for a while. I didn’t have any reason to doubt her. She had always been an honest girl. I raised my children right. I taught them not to lie.”

  “So, Edith lied to you about being happy?”

  “Well, I’m not sure about that.” Fran hesitated. “She didn’t lie exactly. It was more like she just kept the truth from us. I don’t think she wanted to worry us any, you know? She thought it was for the best if she just stayed quiet about it.”

  “Stayed quiet about what?” asked Rowen. She already had her suspicions, but she wanted to hear it said out loud.

  “Timothy wasn’t the best husband.”

  “In what way?”

  “In every way, I imagine.” Fran gave a little huff like all of this was frustrating to think back on. “He started out nice enough, but that was just for appearances. Anyone can fake a pleasant personality. Your true nature comes out eventually, though. It always does. He was one of those men who felt women should be seen and not heard. You know the type. He was a real piece of work. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he was cheating on poor Edith.”

  “Do you have reason to think he was cheating?”

  Fran opened her mouth but didn’t say anything. It looked like she had thought better of it. “It’s just a theory,” she said in an unconvincing manner. “Regardless, that wasn’t the worst thing that man did.”

  “What was the worst thing he did?”

  Fran shook her head. “It doesn’t matter anymore. I don’t know why I’ve even said as much as I have. It doesn’t do anyone any good to speak ill of the dead… Or maybe it does. I heard that horrible family of his was giving out interviews left and right. I’m sure they had plenty to say about my Edith and not one disparaging thing to mention about their boy.”

  Rowen didn’t confirm or deny that. “We like to make sure we get both sides of everything,” she assured her. “Was Timothy an abusive husband? Something like that is important to the story. I could make sure everyone knows the truth.”

  “That’s Edith’s story to tell,” said Fran. A second dog climbed into her lap. “Just know that I’m not going to be shedding any tears over that man. I wouldn’t mind him being gone one bit if it wasn’t creating a big stir like this.”

  “And when was the last time you saw Timothy?”

  “Oh, who knows? I didn’t make a habit of spending much time around the man. I guess it wasn’t all that long ago.” The phone rang and Fran looked away from Rowen to grab the receiver from the end table. “Hello?”

  Rowen could hear someone on the other end of the phone. It was very faint, but she could have sworn that she heard someone who sounded a bit like Edith. It sounded like she was crying. Fran’s expression supported that theory. Her face had grown serious. Her brow gradually began to furrow as if in anger.

  “Slow down, Honey,” said Fran. “Slow down. Who’s there exactly?” She fell silent again, nodding every so often like the person she was talking to could see it. “And you told them to get out… Okay. Okay, just keep an eye on them. Watch what they take and let them know you’ve got help coming. I’ll be over there in a jiffy, all right Honey?” A few moments later, Fran hung up.

  “What’s going on?” asked Rowen, watching as Fran stood.

  “That horrible family of Timothy’s is at my girl’s house taking everything they feel entitled to.” Fran shook her head. Her voice quivered slightly, furious. Even the dogs seemed to be picking up on how angry she was. They darted this way and that, eager to follow her. She was slipping on her shoes and grabbing keys from the nearby bar.

  “Are you going to call the police?” asked Rowen, standing as well.

  “No, I have a few different calls to make.” She went to the phone. She paused for a second before picking up the receiver. “You two are gonna have to get going.”

  “Of course,” Rowen said quickly. “Maybe another time.” She led the way to the door, picking up only the beginning of a conversation Fran was getting into on the phone.

  “Are you anywhere near Edith’s house? Your sister needs help,” Fran was saying.

  “We should drive there and see what’s going on,” Rowen suggested as soon as they were outside.

  “We should keep our distance,” Eric said, though it looked like he was still planning on driving out there. He got in on the driver’s side and started the engine. “Call Ben. Let him know what’s going on.”

  “You don’t think Edith has already called the police?” Rowen asked, pulling out her phone anyway.

  “I doubt it. It sounded to me like she was just going to defer to her mother, and her mother sounded like she was calling Orville— which is all
the more reason for us to be careful and keep our distance.”

  Rowen nodded. She dialed while Eric drove. It didn’t take long for Ben to pick up. “What is it?” he asked, his tone guarded. Rowen didn’t always call with the best of news, after all.

  “We’re in Lichen Hallow right now. We were visiting with Fran Sweet when Edith called her,” Rowen explained. “It sounded like the Lucas family forced their way into her house, and they’re taking everything they think belongs to them.”

  Ben swore under his breath. Rowen couldn’t tell if it was because of the Lucas’ actions or her own. He probably wasn’t thrilled that she and Eric were still probing around for answers in that area. Either way, he couldn’t have been very surprised. “All right. Keep your distance. I’ll send the nearest officer.”

  “What’d he say?” asked Eric once Rowen had hung up.

  “He’s sending someone.” Rowen left out the other part. It didn’t take long at all to get to the Lucas household. Eric parked across the street from it. The Lucas family had pulled a pickup truck onto the front lawn. Dennis was loading stuff into it while his mother stood nearby, engaged in a one-sided shouting match with Edith. Rowen couldn’t hear what was being said from this distance, but it probably wasn’t anything good. “What should we do?” she asked her husband. She wanted to get involved, but she didn’t want to get into any legal trouble over it. The question had barely gotten out of Rowen’s mouth before another car pulled up.

  The car parked directly behind the pickup truck. Rowen thought it might be Fran or Orville at first, but then someone completely different got out. Rowen didn’t recognize the man who marched right up to Dennis and knocked the box he was carrying out of his hands. A lot of posturing went on between the two, and it looked like things might come to blows very soon. Helen tried to put herself between the two, but it didn’t seem like that was going to do a whole lot of good. A couple more men were making their way across the lawn. “Who are they?” asked Rowen.

  Eric looked across the street, squinting as if trying to better see what was going on. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Neighbors, maybe?”

  “You think so?” Rowen watched as the men went to the truck and started to unload it. Dennis had just turned to yell at them when Fran pulled up in an old, white junker car. She joined the fray, wagging a finger at Helen as she closed in on her. Orville wasn’t far behind her. Edith, meanwhile, took a step away from the commotion. She buried her head in her hands. It seemed like this was a lot to deal with for her. “Should we try to do something?”

  “Like what?” Eric asked, busy shooting a video with his phone. He’d gotten a lot of mileage out of his phone’s camera this week. “We’ll only cause more trouble if we head down there. Besides, we already called the cops. We’ve done our part.”

  “True but-” Rowen fell silent as Orville punched Dennis. “Oh.” She gasped and sat up a little straighter in her seat. “Did you get that on video?”

  “Yep,” said Eric.

  “Are you sure we shouldn’t do something?” Rowen asked, watching as Orville really started to lay into Dennis. He shoved him to the ground and delivered a swift kick to his ribs.

  Eric didn’t answer at first. He sounded torn. He wasn’t the sort of guy to stand around and not do something in an emergency, but this seemed like a pretty delicate scenario. It would be more than a little awkward to get mixed up in it before the police came. Fortunately, Fran stepped in. Orville backed away after a few choice words had been shouted at him. At least it looked like he respected his own mother.

  The police pulled up not long after that. Dennis was still sitting in the driveway, dazed. His own mother was crouched down beside him, fussing over whatever wounds he’d sustained. When the police cruiser pulled up, she stood and rushed to that instead.

  “We should let them know we have footage of what’s been going on,” said Eric, opening his car door.

  Rowen nodded. “As long as you made a copy of it.”

  “Don’t worry, I already sent Rose the footage.” He climbed out of the car and led the way across the street.

  Rowen followed close behind. She did her best to ignore the odd looks they were getting. They weren’t citizens of Lichen Hallow, nor were they police. Orville immediately recognized them and scowled. “What are you two doing here?” he demanded, taking a step toward them.

  “Settle down,” Fran warned, placing a hand on her son’s shoulder before he could walk away from her. “The police can sort this out. Don’t cause any more trouble.”

  “So, what’s going on here?” asked the policeman. It was a man Rowen didn’t know by name. Granted she wasn’t well acquainted with all of the policemen working in Lainswich. This one had red hair and a big handlebar mustache. He looked from the people unpacking the pickup truck to the now battered Dennis sitting on the ground. “Which one of you called us?”

  Rowen saw no reason to lie about it. She raised her hand. “That was me,” she said. As soon as the words had left her mouth, she found herself kind of wishing they hadn’t. Suddenly, everyone was staring right at her. No one looked particularly happy about what she had done.

  The police officer pointed at Dennis. There was blood still streaming from the man’s nose. He was covering it with his hands, but it was still dripping down through his fingers. “And what happened to you?” the officer prompted.

  Dennis glanced at Orville. He looked back at the officer and uncovered his face. “Fell and hit my head,” he lied, unconvincingly. It was like he took pride in the lie. He didn’t expect anyone to believe him. He just wanted to make it clear that he was no snitch.

  “Are you sure about that?” asked the officer, raising an eyebrow.

  “Positive,” said Dennis.

  “And what did you two see?” the officer asked, turning to Rowen and Eric.

  Rowen was suddenly very aware that all eyes were on her. She found herself torn between telling the truth and angering everyone in her immediate vicinity. “We have a video of what happened, actually,” said Eric, blurting out the truth before Rowen could make a choice. The atmosphere on the front lawn grew much colder all of a sudden.

  “Let me see.” The officer went to Eric’s side and watched the video with him. From the corner of her eye, Rowen saw some of the neighbors slinking off, back to their homes. She didn’t call attention to them. She felt like she had killed enough of her reputation around these people for one day.

  The video itself made things pretty clear. The officer didn’t say anything about that at first. He just nodded and went back to his car, likely to get backup.

  “What are you even doing here?” Orville demanded, scowling at Rowen and Eric. “Were you here to con answers out of my sister again?”

  “They were here to talk to me.” Fran smacked her son on the back of the head. This earned her a warning look from the police officer, but she ignored it. “You don’t have a say in who I talk to any more than you have a say in who your sister decides to speak with.”

  “But-” Orville began.

  “Not buts.” Fran smacked him again.

  “Ma’am, can you step over here for me for a moment?” The police officer called from his car. Fran was reluctant at first but did as she was told. He must have told her to stay there because she didn’t move even when the police officer returned to everyone else.

  “Can I get your names really quick?” the officer asked Rowen and Eric. “I’m going to have to hang on to that phone of yours temporarily.”

  Eric opened his mouth to answer the question but seemed to think better of it. He looked to Rowen. Rowen didn’t understand the problem at first, but it dawned on her when she opened her mouth to tell the officer herself. These people all around them didn’t know their last name yet. If they found out they were Greensmiths, there was no telling how they would react.

  “Well?” prompted the officer.

  The longer they stood there in silence, the more attention they were attracting. It wasn’t
like they could just not tell him. “I’m Rowen, and this is my husband, Eric,” she said, hoping that would be enough.

  “Last name?” asked the officer, jotting the first part down.

  Of course he needed their last name. Rowen swallowed. “Greensmith,” she said, quietly.

  “What was that?” asked the officer.

  “Greensmith,” Rowen said again, ever so slightly louder.

  “I can’t hear you.” The officer frowned at them like they were playing a game at his expense. “You’re going to have to speak up.”

  “Greensmith,” Eric said in his normal speaking voice.

  Everyone gathered in the driveway murmured or exchanged troubled looks. Most, if not all of them, seemed to be familiar with the name. Edith went a little pale and swayed on her feet like she might fall. “See?” Orville motioned emphatically to Rowen and Eric. “This is why I have to keep an eye on my family. You never know what kind of people you’re letting into your home.”

  “Hush,” said Fran from the cop car, but even she looked troubled by what she had just heard.

  The policeman had raised his eyebrows. He was familiar with the name too, it seemed. “Eric and Rowen Greensmith.” He jotted that down before turning to Helen and Dennis Lucas. “So, the two of you broke into this house here and started stealing things you felt belonged to you?”

  “They do belong to us,” snapped Helen, pulling her own gaze away from Rowen and Eric long enough to answer. If she hated the Greensmiths, she clearly hated her in-laws more. “My son got murdered. His wife doesn’t care one bit, so his things should go to me now.”

  “Yeah?” asked one of the neighbors. “How do you figure that?”

  Helen turned her hateful gaze to Edith. “Well, she certainly didn’t love him. She hasn’t loved him in years. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was her who killed him! His stuff should go to me and that’s all there is to it.”

  “That’s not quite how it works,” said the officer, still listening in on their conversation. “Edith here is the next of kin. If there’s something of your son’s that you want, you’ll have to discuss that with her in a civil manner.”