Tug of Attraction

by Ashlyn Chase

  “I don’t know. I think they had kind of a whirlwind courtship and it never came up. He travelled a lot. By the time she knew how controlling he was, it was too late.”

  “You don’t need to worry about your Wiccan beliefs being questioned by Ethan. Isn’t that another point in his favor?”

  “It would be if I were drawing up pros and cons. But I’m not. This is how I wanted it.”

  Rebecca let out a long sigh. “Brigit, you know I consider you one of my dearest friends, right?”

  “Yeah...”

  “So please know I’m speaking only with love in my heart when I say; Get over yourself. You’re being a stubborn ass. There. I said it.”

  Brigit reared back and laughed. “I love you too, my butting-in, sister-witch friend.”

  * * * *

  “Hey, Yvonne,” Ethan said as he entered the occult shop.

  “Great to see you, Ethan! How’s everything?”

  He groaned.

  “That bad? What can I do to help?”

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound like I needed any help. I’m just a little frustrated. That’s all.”

  “There’s a lot of that going around these days. Want to talk about it?”

  “No.” He stretched and a kink in his back popped. “Ahhh...That’s better.”

  “Looks like you’ve got some muscle tension. Isabelle is in the back getting a reading with Myranda. She’s a massage therapist, among other things. Maybe she can give you a shoulder rub when she comes out. Meanwhile, I have something to show you.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes. Follow me.” Yvonne waved him over to a jewelry cabinet. She went behind it and pulled out a tray full of rings. She plucked one out of its black velvet channel and handed it to him. It held a large oval shaped amethyst.

  “Um. It’s nice. But why are you showing me a women’s ring?”

  Yvonne leaned toward him and whispered. “Brigit tried it on and it fit perfectly.”

  He took a step back and raised his eyebrows. “Uh...Why would that matter to me?”

  Yvonne shrugged and put the ring away. “I was just getting a vibe between you two at the last coven ritual. Forgive me if I overstepped.”

  Ethan folded his arms.

  “Oh, now I’ve gone and made you all tense again,” Yvonne said.

  At that moment, Isabelle and Myranda appeared from the back room. “Who’s tense?” Isabelle asked.

  “Ethan is,” Yvonne said. “And I’m afraid I just made it worse. Can you give him a quick shoulder rub?”

  “Of course. Have a seat, handsome,” Isabelle said, smiling.

  “No, thanks. I’m fine. Really.”

  Isabelle clamped a hand over his shoulder and pressed. “No, you’re not. I can feel a knot, right here.”

  As she massaged the spot, he couldn’t help groaning in relief.

  “Let’s find you a chair,” she said.

  Yvonne grabbed the stool from behind the counter and took it to where they stood.

  “You want to do this right here in the middle of the store,” Ethan asked.

  “Sure. It will be good for business if anyone walks in and asks for my services.” She pushed down on both of his shoulders, encouraging him to sit.

  “Well, since you put it that way...” He got comfortable on the stool and before he knew it he was getting one of the best back rubs of his life. He couldn’t help dropping his head and letting her reach more of his neck. Every time she freed another clenched muscle, he groaned in ecstasy.

  The door to the shop opened, but he didn’t look up. He thought he’d give Isabelle’s business a plug in case the new customer was watching. “Shit, Isabelle. This is better than sex.”

  “Oh, hi, Brigit,” Isabelle said, casually.

  Ethan snapped his head up and Isabelle gently slapped his shoulder. “Don’t move so abruptly. No wonder your neck hurts.”

  Brigit stood still taking in the cozy scene. For a moment, she had looked shocked, but she quickly schooled her expression. “Oh, hi, Isabelle. Myranda. Yvonne. Ethan,” she said, as if each person held equal weight in her life.

  “What can I do for you?” Myranda asked.

  “I was uh...” She glanced over at the others and lowered her voice, “Can I talk to you in private?”

  “Of course.” Myranda led her to the back area, but didn’t enter one of the reading rooms or shut any doors.

  He strained to hear what they were saying.

  “A job?” Myranda said. “I thought you couldn’t...” The rest was garbled.

  So she still hasn’t found a job. Ethan needed to talk to Brigit before she left. He couldn’t force her to take his help, but he could be convincing when he wanted to be. He kept trying to hear what they were talking about, but picked up very little.

  At last they returned to the front area and Myranda had her arm around Brigit’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. If you can learn to communicate with them, I’d be glad to have you.”

  Brigit’s face said it all. Defeat.

  “Hey, Brigit,” Ethan said. “Can I talk to you?”

  She glanced at him uncertainly. “Um, I have to get going. Can we talk outside? Or did you have an appointment here?”

  “No. I can come back. I was just picking up a few supplies.”

  “Okay, then.”

  They said their goodbyes to everyone. On the sidewalk, he watched her. She didn’t make eye contact at first. Finally she looked up at him with those beautiful lavender eyes. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

  “Your job situation. The bakery didn’t work out?”

  “No. Rebecca was wonderful though. She said I could come back if I wanted to after the baby is born. She said they might be ready to hire a full-timer then.”

  “But wouldn’t you want to go back to the animal shelter?”

  “Yes. If they’ll have me. I didn’t tell her that though. I figure I shouldn’t burn any bridges.”

  “Smart. What did Myranda say when you asked her for a job?”

  “You were eavesdropping?”

  “I wish I could deny it. I didn’t hear much though. I take it she was looking for someone who could communicate with spirits? Did she say she’d have a job for you if you learned how to do that?”

  “Yes. Exactly. I guess you heard the important part.”

  “I have an idea. How much time do you have before your next appointment?”

  Her posture slumped to one side. “All the time in the world. I lied about having somewhere else to go.”

  He smiled, sympathetically. “Why don’t we go to my place and see if Charlotte can help.”

  She brightened for a moment, then her face fell again. “I don’t know, Ethan. We played charades. Other spirits might not be movie and TV buffs. I only understood what she acted out because she’s up on her pop culture.”

  “As I understand it, a witch’s psychic powers improve with practice. Maybe the two of you can try to communicate telepathically until it works. I can be there to tell you if you’re getting it right.”

  She chewed her lower lip, but appeared to be thinking it over.

  “Come on,” he said. “What do you have to lose?”

  She smiled for the first time since speaking to Myranda. “Okay. I’ll give it a try.”

  #

  Back at Ethan’s house, Charlotte was anxious to help. Brigit had no idea if this would work or not, but as Ethan said, she had nothing to lose.

  Brigit sat his couch and faced Charlotte. “How do we start?”

  Charlotte mouthed a few words.

  “Oh. You want me to lip read?”

  She nodded, smiling.

  “I’ve never learned to do that, but I could try.”

  Ethan sat quietly in his adjacent arm chair, sipping a cup of coffee. Brigit opted for a glass of ice water and took a sip. She observed Charlotte’s mouth carefully.

  “I think you just said, ‘Very good.’”

  Charlotte nodded enthusiastically.
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  “All right. I guess we’re off to a good start.” Brigit wiggled into a more comfortable position in case they were there for a while.

  Charlotte tapped her chin as if she were thinking. At last she pointed to Ethan and mouthed something, but Brigit was a bit embarrassed to repeat it. Leave it to a hooker.

  “Uh...I think you said something about fucking.”

  Charlotte waved her finger back and forth as if scolding her.

  “I know what you said, Charlotte. I’m just not going to repeat it.” She felt heat rush to her face.

  She could see Charlotte laughing.

  “Come on, Charlotte,” Ethan said. “Play nice.”

  Oh, crap. That’s right. Ethan can hear her.

  “Beside,” he added. “She’s already pregnant.”

  Charlotte jumped up and down, clapping her hands. Her lips were moving so fast, Brigit couldn’t tell what she was saying, but Ethan smiled.

  “I guess she’s happy,” Brigit said.

  “You could say that,” Ethan said. “But, Charlotte, don’t get too excited. You won’t get to see the baby grow up. He or she won’t be living here.”

  Brigit could read Charlotte’s lips forming the word ‘What?’ loud and clear.

  “I think Brigit will have to explain it to you.”

  Charlotte faced her. “Why?” She demanded.

  Brigit’s jaw dropped. “I heard her!”

  “You did?” Ethan seemed as excited as she was.

  “Maybe spirits have to shout at me before I can hear—”

  Charlotte put her face right in front of her and looked pissed. “I asked you a question,” she yelled.

  “Okay, okay.” Brigit held up her hands and tried to push her away. Of course, Charlotte didn’t go anywhere.

  “I want a baby, but I don’t want to trap a man into marriage to get one.” She hoped that would be enough.

  Charlotte narrowed her eyes as if regarding her skeptically. Then she turned on Ethan. Again, her lips moved too fast and Brigit couldn’t hear her. Damn. She wished she knew what was making Ethan squirm in his seat.

  Finally he said, “Stop. This is none of your business, Charlotte.”

  Charlotte’s eyes went wide. She returned to Brigit. It was hard to read her expression. She tried to mouth something.

  “I’m sorry,” Brigit said. “I didn’t get that.”

  At last Brigit could see tears forming in her eyes, and it looked like she was sniffling. Ethan appeared more uncomfortable than ever.

  “Um. Excuse me,” he said. “I need another cup of coffee.” On his way to the kitchen he mumbled, “With a shot of whiskey in it.”

  * * * *

  The PI Brigit’s father hired sat in their breakfast nook and picked his teeth. “I’m pretty sure I’ve found your man, Jonathan.”

  He grimaced. “Call me Mr. Graham.” Jonathan Graham sat rigidly opposite his visitor. “You said you found someone?”

  “Yeah. I saw a guy with her. That doesn’t mean much, but he became protective when I made it look like I was going to hit on her. So I followed him to the docks.”

  Graham’s eyes went wide. “A dock worker?”

  “Not exactly. He went into the tug boat office. He was carrying a bakery box and left about a half hour later without it.”

  “So...what? Is he a delivery boy?”

  “I don’t think so. He didn’t return to the bakery. I followed him from the docks and he came here.”

  “Here? As in New Castle?”

  “Here as in right to your driveway.”

  Jonathan’s spine straightened even more. “What are you saying? Was he looking for Brigit?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Then what do you know?” he snapped, frustrated.

  “Relax,” the guy said, “He wasn’t exactly in your driveway. He parked on the street next to it and took a short walk. He seemed to be looking at the little guest house out back more than the main house.”

  “That’s where Brigit lives,” he muttered.

  “I figured as much. Anyway, I took down his license plate number and dug up some interesting information about him.”

  “What did you find?”

  “His name is Ethan Cox. He owns his own home. A nice one on Court Street. He has no criminal record—not even unpaid parking tickets.”

  “Thank God for that.”

  “I couldn’t find out if he worked for the boat towing company. They seemed to be pretty protective of their employees’ personal information. Even on their website there’s a special section for family members to get messages to them, but you need a password to get into it.”

  “That’s unusual. Isn’t it?”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. Anyway, I dug a little deeper and it turns out he graduated from Portsmouth High the same year your daughter did. They might only know each other from that time.”

  “She’s my step-daughter.”

  “Yeah, right. That’s what I meant. Say, why didn’t you send her to some snooty private school?”

  Jonathan frowned. “Because she didn’t want to go to one.”

  “Oh. I didn’t think you rich people...” He took one look at his employer’s frown and stopped talking. Then he cleared his throat. “Well, anyway, she seems to like him and he’s very protective of her. I’d say he’s probably the father. I don’t know if he’s aware of her condition or not.”

  “Well, bring him here and I’ll make him aware.”

  “It might be better if I don’t blow my cover, just in case. Why don’t I give you his address and phone number. You can invite him over yourself.”

  Jonathan nodded and took the piece of paper the PI offered.

  “Would you like to see a picture of him?”

  “Yes. Do you have one?”

  “It wasn’t taken with a telephoto lens, but it’s fairly clear.” He pulled up a picture on his camera phone.”

  Jonathan saw a handsome young man with brown hair and a rugged five o’clock stubble on his strong jaw. It wasn’t possible to see the color of his eyes or tell his height. “He seems healthy enough to support a family. He doesn’t limp or drool, does he?”

  The PI laughed. “No. He seems like a decent young man. He’ll probably make you a good-looking grandkid.”

  Jonathan nodded and the PI put the phone back in his pocket.

  “There is one thing...”

  “What’s that?”

  “I thought I recognized the name and when I looked into some old news stories, I found it.”

  The coy way the PI was acting made his hackles rise. “Well, for Christ sake, what is it?”

  “His mother committed suicide.”

  “Oh, shit. Insanity in the family. That’s just lovely.” Jonathan made a sound of disgust.

  “I don’t think that’s it. The news story wasn’t very specific, but they mentioned it happened shortly after a marital separation. The elder Cox is living in Arizona now—with a woman who once lived in Portsmouth.”

  “So, are you saying we should add infidelity to the gene pool?”

  “Not necessarily. Just that there may have been circumstances leading to a situational depression rather than something more long-lasting. Either way, the kid has been through a lot.”

  “Are you saying I shouldn’t confront him?”

  “Not at all. I just wanted you to be aware of what I found. It might have some impact. It might not.”

  “What do I say to him?”

  The PI shrugged. “You’ll think of something.”

  That didn’t sit well. “Do you have any other leads or is he the only one?”

  “The only one I’ve seen so far. Do you want me to continue to look for others?”

  Jonathan reviewed what the PI had said. The two of them could just be old high school friends, but would he be that protective of a chum? “Why don’t you continue to follow Brigit, just in case. In the meantime, I’ll get in touch with my friend the Harbormaster. Maybe I can find out what Ethan C
ox was doing at the docks.”

  The PI nodded. “That’s what I’d recommend.”

  Mr. Graham thought about it carefully. “I really can’t come up with a single excuse to bring him here. He doesn’t have a side business fixing up old homes or anything, does he?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  Jonathan rose and paced. At that moment, Brigit’s mother drove into the driveway. “I’d rather you go now.”

  The PI rose and held out his hand. “Let me know how it goes. If you have what you need, you won’t owe me much more than my retainer.”

  “And if he’s not the one?”

  “I’ll start over. Don’t worry. We’ll find out who he is.”

  Mr. Graham grasped his hand and shook it, then ushered him out a side door.

  Chapter 11

  The following day Brigit returned to Myranda’s occult shop, prepared to give her medium gift a try. Hopefully, her friend would be patient and understanding as she learned more about it. When Myranda spotted her, she greeted her with a smile.

  “Hi, Myranda. I thought about your offer.”

  Myranda looked confused. “What offer?”

  Oh, no. I thought I had a job here. “Um...You said if I learned to use my gift of attracting spirits and could communicate with them—”

  A light of recognition Myranda shown in her eyes. “Oh, yes. Have you been able to accomplish that, so quickly?”

  “Well, I’ve made a start on it. I’m no expert, that’s for sure. But I imagine the more I practice, the better I’ll get.”

  Myranda came over and took her hand, then led her to the back area and into one of the little rooms. Brigit felt like she was being escorted to the principal’s office. She went to close the door behind them, but Brigit said, “Leave it open.”

  Myranda sat behind the small table, and gestured for Brigit to sit in the chair opposite. She tipped her head. “Are you really ready to do this, or are you just desperate for a job?”

  Brigit cringed. “Uh...both?”

  Myranda laughed. “Well, at least you’re being honest. But you have to understand...I can’t charge people if you’re still learning. I have the shop’s reputation to think of.”

  Brigit stopped listening. Not only did she know what her friend was in the process of saying, but she also saw a spirit standing behind Myranda’s left shoulder. It appeared to be an elderly woman and she was mouthing a word. The same word, over and over.