The Hidden Grimoire

by Karla Brandenburg

  “You’re thinking about the mixture I gave Kyle’s mother to bring on labor.”

  “Yes.”

  Nora took a couple of breaths, false starts at speaking, before she continued. “I used to keep certain potions on hand. You remember Dr. Hodge telling me not to practice medicine?”

  She’d taken me to Dr. Hodge after my accident, when I’d first arrived in Hillendale. “I do.”

  “People often came to me for herbal teas or homeopathic remedies, as often as those people who are looking for special orders. The castor oil I gave to Molly Jakes wasn’t mixed especially for her, if that eases your mind. If the book called it out for you, someone will need it for arthritis.”

  “I suppose I’m nervous knowing how poisonous the beans can be.”

  “Only if someone is foolish enough to eat them, and even then, the poison is more a product than the plant itself, something you’d have to intentionally make. The recipe the book is showing you isn’t for ricin, is it?’

  I scanned the page. “No.”

  “Take a breath,” Nora said. “Be present in what you’re doing. And when your customer asks you for the potion, ask what they intend to use it for. That should allay your anxiety. How did your meeting with Hannah go?”

  I switched my phone to speaker and filled her in while I mixed the special order. I went on to tell her about Georgia’s appearance in my bedroom last night, and Kyle’s response.

  “Well. If that didn’t send Kyle screaming, it’s a safe bet he’ll stick around for the long haul,” Nora said. “Hannah told you to be more concerned with the woman?”

  “Yeah, but she didn’t know who. I assume it’s Sharon.”

  Nora tsked. “Do you think it would help if I talked to Jason?”

  Based on what I knew of my cousin, I doubted he’d be receptive. “I wouldn’t go out of my way, but if the opportunity presents itself. Not that he’d listen to you any more than he’d listen to me.”

  “I suppose you’re right.”

  “I have to get to work. I’ll talk to you later.”

  Ash wound around my feet. I picked her up and carried her into the living room beside her basket and packed the special orders.

  Ten minutes later I arrived at the shop. Cassandra was at her sewing machine by the window. While I unpacked, the machine whirred faster than usual, and then stopped.

  “Damn,” Cassandra muttered.

  “Something wrong?” I asked.

  She turned in her seat to face me and stared me down for several long moments. “No.” She turned to the machine and released the garment she’d been working on, then proceeded to rip a seam apart. Which indicated an obvious ‘yes’ to my question.

  “Anything I can do to help?”

  Again, she turned to look at me. She set the garment aside and rose from her seat. She waved her hands in front of her clothes. “What’s wrong with this outfit?”

  She wore a gray cable knit sweater over a red, white, and gray plaid skirt with a loosely-fastened belt hanging below her waist. Red bands were tied around her knee-high gray boots like bows—her own unique style.

  “Everything matches,” I said. “And it appears to fit you well. What, in particular, did you want me to notice?”

  She set her hands on her hips, pursed her lips and tears welled in her eyes, threatening to smear the dark liner and mascara.

  I rushed to her side and took hold of her arm. “What happened?”

  Even as I asked, I saw the scene playing in her head. Dinner. With Lucas. At the restaurant across the street. Mrs. Hazelton at the booth next to theirs.

  Cassandra, dear, even kilt makers have learned the art of sewing seams in their skirts. Are you sure that won’t fall apart?

  I shook my head, hearing the words while Cassandra repeated them.

  “Your styles might have an unconstructed look,” I said. “But never ratty. You know how people talk.”

  “And then she went on to ask Lucas if he was worried the principal might reprimand him for being seen with someone whose clothes might fall off her at any moment.” A sob escaped, and Cassandra brought her hands to her face, calling attention to long red fingernails.

  I’d suspected Cassandra’s and Lucas’s opposing styles might present a problem in a small, conservative town. “What did Lucas say?”

  “Not a single word. He turned six shades of red and pounded down his beer.”

  The sense I got from her wasn’t so much the insult as Lucas’s failure to defend her. In public.

  Cassandra patted her chest with a palm. “He’s the one who asked me out. Now he’s ashamed to be seen with me?”

  “Did he say that?”

  She hung her head. “No. But he let that awful woman insult me, and then he didn’t make a second date. You can be sure Mrs. Hazelton isn’t going to let it rest. She’ll probably go straight to his principal to point out the error of Lucas’s ways.”

  I chuckled. “I’m sorry. I know you like him, and I’m pretty sure if he didn’t like you, too, he wouldn’t have subjected himself to the stifled opinions of this town. Give him a chance. Maybe he didn’t know what to say, wasn’t prepared.”

  “As if anyone can prepare to be insulted.” She managed a smile. “Thanks. It’s all good.”

  “Don’t write him off yet. I have a feeling he’ll be back.”

  Cassandra plopped into her seat at the sewing machine.

  When Kyle walked in, she didn’t bother to look up from her work or acknowledge him. Kyle and Lucas were friends. If Kyle knew anything or had something to add to what happened, he’d speak up, but most likely he’d stay out of it. The men usually did.

  “Everything okay here this morning?” he asked.

  “So far,” I replied.

  He shot a glance at Cassandra, which I wasn’t sure was meant to evoke an answer from her or to see if she’d mention her date last night. Kyle leaned closer to me and lowered his voice. “Did you hear?”

  I nodded.

  “Shouldn’t have happened, but he said he refuses to take her out of town and hide the fact they’re dating. He wasn’t prepared for the immediate backlash.”

  I nodded again. “And?”

  Kyle chuckled. “I guess we’ll find out what happens next.” He kissed me, turned to Cassandra to wish her good day, and left to continue his rounds.

  “And?” Cassandra said after the door closed behind him.

  “You know Hillendale. Word travels fast.”

  “Anything I should know?”

  I smiled. “He said Lucas didn’t want to hide the fact he was dating you by taking you someplace out of town.” I stopped. Blinked. “Wait a minute. Kyle took me out of town when we started dating.”

  Cassandra laughed. “You’re going to quibble about that now? When you’re planning to marry him?”

  I laughed with her. “No, but it does say something for Lucas.”

  “Yeah, maybe.”

  Mrs. Hazelton sauntered past the shop, turned, and stopped outside the window. She peered in, and a moment later walked inside.

  “How are you today?” I greeted her. “In need of bath salts? Or are you bold enough to try a new look? Cassandra has such a way with colors, don’t you think? They really make a statement.”

  “I’m not sure that’s the kind of statement I want to make,” Mrs. Hazelton said.

  “I suppose her fashions aren’t for the older crowd, are they?” I replied. Catty, I knew, but I wasn’t going to let her get away with being nasty.

  “You young people. Always wearing clothes that look like they’re going to fall off with the first stiff breeze,” she said.

  Cassandra rose from her seat. “I’ve never had any of my seams fail. Nothing ever fell off.”

  “But you’re always ready to show off some skin, aren’t you? Why wearing nothing but a bra in the summer is supposed to represent fashion I’ll never know,” Mrs. Hazelton went on.

  “But it wasn’t a bra,” Cassandra said with a forced smile. “In
fact, I wore a bra under it. Didn’t your generation wear halter tops? Without bras?” She forced a mock gasp. “I understand that was scandalous back in the day. And the short shorts? I think they called them hot pants.”

  “Right,” I joined in. “Nothing like a big cable knit sweater or plaid wool skirt. By comparison, you’d be considered prudish, Cassandra.”

  “You’ll never be able to sell your designs here,” Mrs. Hazelton said.

  “Is there a reason she shouldn’t?” I asked.

  “People around here don’t like ‘different.’”

  “So you think she should be selling uniforms?” I suggested.

  “And you...” Mrs. Hazelton began.

  “Yes, Mrs. Hazelton?” I asked sweetly, pinching my fingers together to control my temper.

  She turned her attention on me. Her expression changed from patronizing to wary and she took a step backward.

  “You were saying?” I prompted.

  Mrs. Hazelton’s throat rippled as she swallowed. “I really don’t have any reason to stop in. I suppose I’d better go.” She backed away and nearly ran out the door.

  Cassandra broke out with peals of laughter. “That was totally worth it.”

  “What got into her?”

  Cassandra raised her eyebrows. “You. You get this look...” she waved a hand across her face, “and your eyes. Well, they sort of glow. Or at least they seem to with the way the morning sun is coming through the window.” She shook her head. “No, it isn’t the sun. I’ve seen that look before, when you’re irritated or focusing on something.”

  The same glow Nora’s eyes got? I turned away.

  “What I’m saying, Brynn, is it’s okay if you are magic. And you know why? Because I’ve never seen you so much as step on a spider. You’re Glinda, and Mrs. Hazelton is the Wicked Witch.” She nodded at the door Mrs. Hazelton had exited. “Put that in your pipe and smoke it, Hillendale.”

  Unshed tears burned in my eyes. No, people didn’t like to talk about the things they didn’t understand, but they knew, and people like Cassandra didn’t care.

  People like Mrs. Hazelton were a different matter. “She could ruin our business with her ugly gossip,” I said.

  “I’ll take my chances with you,” Cassandra said.

  Chapter 26

  After I’d sold the last of my special orders, I stood in the shop window and checked the sky for signs of snow. The chill in the air and the dark clouds suggested winter in Wisconsin was here to stay.

  Cassandra appeared beside me. “Mrs. Hazelton’s attempts at gossip don’t seem to have hurt our sales today.”

  “It’s winter. Information moves slower.”

  “Not by a long shot. They can still use the phone.” She shrugged. “You’ve lived through a scandal or two yourself.”

  I knew all too well how the townspeople banded together over the smallest piece of gossip, but Cassandra was one of Hillendale’s own, even if she had moved one town over. “Going to dinner with Lucas Ford hardly qualifies as a scandal.”

  “She wouldn’t try to cause trouble for him, would she? For dating me?”

  Mrs. Hazelton’s unkind remarks had found their target. “I’d be surprised if his principal tried to restrict Lucas from having a social life. It isn’t like you’re a stripper.”

  “I don’t know. To hear Mrs. Hazelton tell it...”

  I laughed. “I think after you pointed out the fashion trends from her day she might reconsider. Certainly there’s photographic evidence of her choices as a young woman.”

  “I can’t see Mrs. Hazelton wearing a halter.”

  I returned to the counter, where my cell phone was ringing. I didn’t recognize the number, but I answered anyway.

  “You knew where she was last time.” A frantic woman’s voice.

  “Who is this?”

  “Sharon Clark. LeAnne’s having contractions and Jason called me to watch Georgia so he could take LeAnne to the hospital, but Georgia’s missing again.”

  Chills ran across my arms. Was this a trap to get me alone?

  “You knew where Georgia was last time,” Sharon went on. “You have to help me.”

  I closed my eyes and reached out to Georgia telepathically. All I got this time was a giggle. “I suspect she hasn’t gotten far. Where are you?”

  “Jason’s house. In Meadow Hill. Please?”

  “Does Jason know you’re calling me?” I asked.

  “He gave me your number, in case I got called back to the office.”

  Jason gave her my number as a backup? That hardly seemed likely, especially with his sister as close as Milwaukee. Should I call Kyle? He’d made it clear he wanted to talk to Sharon with me.

  “Brynn, please. I need your help. If anything happens to Georgia, Jason will never forgive me.” Her voice broke with a sob.

  Whether Georgia was hiding from Sharon or playing a game, I couldn’t take the chance. “Give me the address. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  I explained to Cassandra what was happening, collected Ash since it was nearly closing time, and tried to call Kyle. No answer. I reached out to Georgia one more time. I want you, Aunt Bwinn. Not helpful.

  Fifteen minutes later, I found Jason’s townhouse in Meadow Hill, one in a grouping of four. As I pulled into the driveway, Sharon rushed out and opened my car door.

  See their auras. I concentrated on the light surrounding Sharon, trying to read her intent. The grayish-yellow mustard color indicated she was afraid, reason enough for me to be here. I lifted Ash’s basket from the seat and got out of the car.

  “What is that?” she asked.

  “My cat. The store is closing soon. I couldn’t leave her there, and I’m not leaving her in the car.” Considering how Ash had taken to Georgia, the cat might help.

  “Jason asked me to bring Georgia to the hospital. The baby’s coming.” She wrung her hands. “I can’t tell him I lost her.”

  “We’ll find her.” I followed Sharon up the front steps and into the house. “LeAnne’s not due ‘til next month, is she?”

  “No, which means he has enough to worry about.”

  The living room had light gray carpeting, a sectional sofa and a large ottoman. A wire bookshelf lined one wall and a television sat on a stand in the corner beside two windows overlooking the front.

  Sharon looked genuinely frightened—she didn’t appear threatening.

  “Georgia?” I called out.

  Another telepathic giggle.

  “I’m going to let Ash out of her basket,” I told Sharon.

  “The cat won’t destroy anything, will she?”

  “She’ll help me find Georgia,” I said more curtly than I’d planned.

  Sharon nodded. “I was going to call the police, but last time...”

  “Last time I knew where she was,” I finished for her.

  Ash hopped out and stalked around the corner, into the kitchen. A breakfast bar with four barstools dominated the room. Perpendicular to the open end of the bar, the stove, refrigerator and cabinets lined the wall to the back door.

  Sharon wrung her hands. “What if Georgia’s hurt?”

  I put a finger to my lips. “She’s not hurt.”

  “How do you know?”

  Beside the door, a row of hooks held coats with a tray of boots beneath it. The door was unlatched. “Is Georgia’s coat here?” I asked.

  Sharon touched each of the garments—snow pants, a fleece jacket, a knit hoodie. “No.”

  I opened the door and stepped onto the wooden porch. A quiet little voice sang Blackbird, missing half the lyrics.

  Georgia.

  I sang along.

  “Georgia?” Sharon called out.

  Immediately, the voice stopped. I shot Sharon a glare, then held a finger to my lips.

  “Georgia, honey, it’s Aunt Brynn. Can I sit with you?”

  “Where...?” Sharon whispered, but again I held up a finger to silence her.

  “Okay,” Georgia’s quiet litt
le voice replied.

  I walked down and around the stairs before I crouched beside the cement slab beneath the porch deck. Georgia had her sock monkey in her hands and was making it dance.

  “Is your monkey getting cold?” I asked.

  “A little.”

  “Why are you playing out here? You forgot to tell your mommy and your daddy.”

  Georgia pouted. “I didn’t want to play with that lady.”

  Sharon leaned down beside me. “I was so worried about you.”

  “I don’t like you,” Georgia said.

  “That’s not a nice thing to say, sweetie,” I said.

  Georgia stuck out her bottom lip and went back to making her sock monkey dance.

  Sharon’s breath hitched. “Daddy wants you to go to the hospital to see Mommy. We can all go.”

  “Will Mommy be better when the baby comes?” Georgia asked me.

  “I’m sure she will,” I said.

  “Mommy’s having a baby,” Georgia said, a solemn look on her face.

  “Yes, she is,” I said. “But maybe not today.”

  Georgia shook her head. “No. Today.”

  I suspected she knew something the rest of us didn’t. This little girl’s gifts were far stronger than mine or Nora’s. “Then we’ll see the baby when we go.” I straightened to face Sharon. “Do you want to go ahead, and I’ll bring Georgia with me?”

  “No,” she said. “I told him I’d take care of her.”

  A task she’d already failed once. “It’s too soon for the baby, isn’t it? They won’t let LeAnne go this early.”

  “Today,” Georgia said. “Baby’s coming today.”

  I gathered Georgia into my arms. “Then you should go see her, don’t you think?”

  Georgia pouted. “Baby brother. You come, too?”

  Jeannine had told me the baby would be a girl. “I have to take Ash home, but then I’ll come wait with you. Okay? Can you go with Sharon and I’ll meet you there?”

  With a pout, she tucked her head in the crook of my neck and nodded.

  When I handed Georgia to Sharon, Georgia cried.

  “Don’t lose her this time,” I said.

  Was I making a mistake? Hannah had told me to be on guard against a reckless woman. Sharon had been reckless watching Georgia, but she didn’t seem to be a threat otherwise. Either that or she was masking her abilities, but then why call for my help? She should have been able to find Georgia as easily as I had. Something didn’t add up.