Grenache and Graves

by Sandra Woffington

  Every time he heard words like “channeling” and “trance,” Max had to work hard to swallow them. His natural instincts of revulsion erupted. To solve crimes, he had to understand the victim and the witnesses. He could not afford to discount their testimony due to his own prejudices. He glanced at Joy, who seemed to take it all in easily, but then she’d delved into the dark early in life, given her fascination for studying small dead critters and selecting the best specimens for her shoebox of horrors.

  Ruby sighed. “And I had my eyes closed with my full focus on calling down the moon.”

  Joy prodded, “Gregor mentioned that he sold Jared an anxiety remedy. He dropped it off at the Ayahuasca ceremony.”

  Drew nodded. “Just herbs. All natural.”

  Alizon confirmed, “I brought it home when I brought Jared home.”

  Ruby added, “I usually make him a tea, but business has been busy now that we sell items on the internet. So we buy from Gregor too—he gives us a discount as we cross-promote our businesses. Jared took an herbal sleeping aid too, which he also bought from Gregor, or he drinks an herbal tea I make for him.”

  Joy inquired, “You’re a holistic healer?”

  Ruby nodded. “Clients come here or I go to their home.” Ruby pulled her long dark tresses over one shoulder and played with the curly tips. She wore a sleeveless, white jersey dress.

  “Was Jared upset recently?” asked Max.

  Ruby paused as if contemplating the question before answering. She folded her arms over her chest. “Jared was happy. Happier than in a while.”

  “Are there any tensions in the circle?” asked Joy.

  Without hesitation, Alizon waved a hand and rolled her eyes. “Crystal was a problem. She practically threw herself at Jared, but he rebuffed her. Then she threw herself at Gunner, but he rebuffed her too. I’m a fool. I gave the girl a chance! Two other covens kicked her out.”

  Ruby rolled her eyes. “Mother, Crystal flirts. It doesn’t mean she wanted in Jared’s pants—or in Gunner’s. She knew what Gunner was going through.”

  Alizon focused her response on Max and Joy. “She uses dark magic, calls to Hecate, goddess of the night and witchcraft. And to Hades, the Greek god of the underworld. No balance—all dark gods. I saw her performing a binding love spell. I spoke to her about it.”

  “For whom?” asked Drew.

  “She wouldn’t tell me,” said Alizon. “But I thought it might have been for Gunner.”

  Max interjected, “I’m sorry. What is that? A binding spell?”

  Ruby answered, “A binding spell is where a practitioner uses an incantation to force another person to love him or her. A non-binding spell is one that casts love and possibility out there and attempts to draw love in, but it does not interfere with free-will. Most practitioners consider binding spells as part of the dark arts—morally wrong.”

  Alizon added, “You should look into Crystal. She has history. She was asked to leave two other circles. That’s all I’m saying.”

  Joy asked, “But why would she hurt Jared?”

  Drew hesitated to add information. “She confided to Gregor that she liked him. Jared is nice to everyone. Crystal took it the wrong way.”

  Joy leaned forward. “Was anyone else in the circle upset with Jared?”

  Ruby just stared blankly and shook her head.

  Max could see that Jared’s death had left her dazed and confused. One look at her face, and he knew Jared’s death replayed over and over in her mind, just as his father’s death still played in his, and Sam Burton’s death still played in Joy’s.

  Drew chimed in, “Yesterday morning, when Alizon, Ruby, and I came back from our nature walk, Crystal drove away—she’d dropped off herbs for me. We waved to her. Minutes later, Val stormed out the door, hopped into her car, and sped off. She looked upset. She didn’t see us.”

  Alizon added, “I forgot about that!”

  Ruby raised her head. Her voice had a firm edge. “I asked Jared about it. Val was upset that she hadn’t gone through with the Ayahuasca ceremony. Jared assured her that no one cared. That’s all!”

  Max cast a doubtful eye at Joy, who dropped her chin the slightest degree to concur—Ruby was lying or hiding something.

  Joy shifted the conversation. “What are you making in the kitchen?”

  Ruby beamed. “Holistic remedies for my patients—essential oils, teas, and ointments. Inhaling lavender oil or rosemary oil, diluted, can relieve pain, even migraines. Rubbing a peppermint oil solution on the joints helps arthritis. Jared encouraged me to start the business. He came up with the name: Over the Moon.”

  Alizon balked, “Gregor isn’t thrilled—it competes with his business. We’d both grown up in the same commune in Virginia. He followed us out to California.”

  Ruby rolled her eyes. “My business does not hurt Gregor’s, mother! There are plenty of customers. I mostly make remedies for my patients, and Gregor and I have a different clientele on the internet. I only make a few products.”

  Drew’s voice took on a concerned tone. “This is probably nothing, but Gregor has feelings for Alizon.”

  “Drew!” said Alizon. “That was ages ago. We were teenagers. It was before I met you!”

  “He followed us to California. Stayed in your circle until he moved to Ruby’s. And you promised to make him high priest but you never did.”

  Alizon rolled her eyes. “He knows how it works. He was never chosen. Ruby met Jared. A couple makes a strong force.”

  Ruby shook it off. “I agree with mother here. Gregor has been a positive force in my circle.”

  “And in mine,” said Alison, “before he joined yours.”

  Drew shifted the conversation. “Ruby has studied herbs and natural remedies since she was five.”

  Joy reached out to engage Ruby. “Gregor mentioned that you don’t use plants with hallucinogenic, hypnotic, or psychedelic chemicals that alter consciousness.”

  Ruby’s face changed. She engaged, almost happy to have a topic that pulled her away from thinking about Jared. “That branch of the craft is called the Poison Path for a very good reason. Entheogenic practitioners use plants to produce a trance or to experience a mental or astral projection; others use them to shape-shift or for prophesy; others to heighten passions. Death-walker or shadow-walker practitioners attempt to reach the edge between life and death, to cross the barrier, learn, and return. They don’t always return.”

  “So, in short, they get high.” Max jotted a note.

  Alizon waved a hand in the air in negation. “Not really. These practitioners are not interested in ‘recreational’ experiences—in getting high for the buzz. They are devoted to reaching beyond our mortal bodies to other realms and gaining spiritual knowledge. It’s a quest to gain wisdom, not to escape from reality.”

  Max nodded as if he had gleaned some new insight, but his brain screamed, “It’s getting high!” He reminded himself to take it in and stay open-minded, but his brain revolted.

  “I’m an herbal practitioner,” defended Ruby. “I do not use any baneful herbs. My focus is on health, wellness, and spiritual well-being. On channeling healing energy.”

  Joy cocked her head. “But you entered a trance?”

  “Naturally,” said Ruby. “Well, and with a little mugwort and absinthe.”

  Max asked, “Drew, is that the tea that the four of you drank before the ceremony?”

  Drew show enthusiasm for having this knowledge. “Yes. I steep mugwort leaves in hot water and add honey and lemon juice. It’s a gentle aid for Alizon’s or Ruby’s trance state—mugwort is a lunar herb. But mild. It can be bitter, so I add honey and absinthe to make it more palatable. And, of course, there’s an incantation to go with the preparation.”

  Alizon’s voice rose sharply. “Mugwort would not make Jared or anyone else woozy, though.”

  Max suggested, “If you don’t mind, we’d like to ask each of you a few questions in private. A cognitive interview helps you to remember any
details that might seem inconsequential but could be vital. Drew, I’ll interview you, and Dr. Burton will interview the ladies.”

  Drew suggested, “Why don’t we take a walk? It’s a nice day. There’s a path beside the creek.”

  Max rose to his feet. “I’d like that. The creek is one of my favorite places.”

  Joy said, “I’ll start with you, Ruby.”

  Alizon patted Ruby’s hand. “Stay here. I’ll go out back and sit by the creek. Fetch me when you’re ready, Dr. Burton.”

  11

  Drew led Max past the garden and edged toward the creek, soon entering the dirt path that ran beside the rippling water.

  Max had walked the creek many times with his father or friends or witnesses who had snatched a plot of land beside the rushing stream. But each time he saw a new piece of it, his heart leaped with peace and pride for his valley and his senses sharpened to take in the earthy scents and the wild growth. “What does Ruby grow in her garden?”

  “Herbs for cooking and plants for her herbal remedies. She’s getting so busy, she’s having to buy some items in bulk, though.”

  “It’s good that she has something to keep her busy right now.” Max enjoyed the smell of the sycamores and cedars and grasses.

  “She’s not busy enough. She mopes and cries. I’ve never seen two people closer than her and Jared. They really were best friends.”

  Max decided to take Joy’s tack and start with a personal question to get Drew talking. “How did you meet Alizon? If you don’t mind my saying, you look like opposites.”

  Drew laughed. “I could say the same for you and your partner.”

  “And you’d be right!”

  “I was twenty-four and had just graduated from Georgetown University with a degree in political science. My parents lived in Richmond. I decided to take my time getting home—like a month. I was headed to Lake Anna, taking backroads, enjoying the country. I stopped for gas and popped into this country store to buy some snacks. And there she was. Alizon was eighteen, long dark hair, no makeup, a cotton flowered dress—but she didn’t walk; she danced, she twirled and laughed. I was captivated. She asked where I was going, and I told her Lake Anna. She said she’d never been there and asked me for a ride. I asked about her parents. She told me she’d been born at Paradise Peace Farm, a commune not far away, and that her parents would be ‘cool’ with it.”

  “Were you cool with it?”

  “Sure, it was the seventies. I figured we’d spend some time together, have some fun, and we’d go our separate ways. I had a girlfriend in Richmond. I was going to pop the question. She was a sorority girl, belonged to the right kind of circles—parent-approved. I figured I’d have my last fling. Sow the wild oats. I drove Alizon by the farm, and her parents assured me it was okay with them. Besides, she was eighteen. Alizon grabbed a bag and we took off. Whenever we could find a secluded spot of the lake, she thought nothing of stripping down and splashing around and, let’s just say, frolicking. I’d worked hard all of my life, studied, buckled down. She was the opposite. I’d never felt so free.”

  “And your parents?” Max and Drew walked single file where the path narrowed as they squeezed past an old oak tree with a massive trunk.

  “They hit the roof. They thought I’d lost my mind. I broke up with the sorority girl, moved out of my parents’ home, and Alizon moved in with me. A few weeks later, we discovered she was pregnant. I married her. She’d already joined a circle in the commune. That’s where she met Gregor. They grew up together.”

  “Were they lovers?”

  “Yes, but Alizon said it was part of commune life to ‘commune,’ so she didn’t think of it seriously.”

  “Did Gregor?”

  “He did. And my parents became increasingly intolerant of our lifestyle, so we packed up. Alizon had always wanted to see California. So we drove west. Gregor followed us, trying to win Alizon back. But once Ruby was born, he knew the score. My parents adore Ruby. It took decades to mend the fence. They hate the idea that I’m part of this mystical path, but now we just avoid the topic at Thanksgiving.”

  Max appreciated how the sun filtered through the trees, affording them shade. A gentle breeze eased the walk too. “What do you do for a living?”

  Drew hesitated. “Initially, I worked as a book editor, but I started writing thriller novels. Spies and espionage. I’ve done that full time for years now.”

  Max laughed. “Well, that uses your poly sci degree.”

  “Sort of, but I can work from anywhere too, so we visit Ruby a lot. We live in San Diego.”

  “Was it your idea not to live in Alizon’s commune?”

  Drew laughed even louder. “You would think so, but no. Alizon found the place constricting. Go figure! Forty-hour work weeks, credits for hours instead of pay. Everyone received a small stipend, but the communal pool meant no one could generate wealth. Open doors left little privacy. And the communal exchange of love, Alizon thought, diminished any opportunity for a close, intimate bond. Her commune welcomed diverse religions, but she’d grown tired of that life just like I’d grown tired of a mundane life and job. We matched—in a weird way.”

  “I guess there really is no such thing as a utopia.”

  “Many have tried.”

  Max shifted gears to see what Drew could remember. “Walk me through the ceremony, Drew. Leave nothing out.”

  “Sure, but I don’t think there’s anything new to tell. Why don’t we turn around too?” Drew spun around and began the walk back.

  Max wondered if he had retreated because the conversation pointed back to the night of Jared’s death or if he simply figured the conversation soon came to an end.

  “I prepared the circle. Alizon, Jared, and Ruby set the altar. I always make the mugwort tea that we drink just before the ceremony. There’s a ritual that goes along with making it. You know, like making the tea pure.”

  “You passed out the tea?”

  “I handed out the cups. I poured the tea from the thermos. I said a couple of words, and we drank it. During the ceremony, I stood to Jared’s left, between him and Crystal. Jared seemed fine. He called the last corner, set the athame on the altar. We all chanted for a time, moved about. Some picked up the athame and held it to their chests. We surrounded Ruby and Jared. Ruby entered a trance. I didn’t see anything wrong. This has to be an accident. Jared must have been using the athame to channel energy and then the obelisk fell. I’m sure it was an accident.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  Joy interviewed Ruby. She tried to set Ruby at ease. “Where did you meet Jared?”

  “He moved here from northern California. I was working on my own as a freelance holistic practitioner. I had posted notices at Gregor’s shop. Jared saw an ad and called me. He was my patient. We learned all about each other. And he joined the circle as high priest. I miss him so much!”

  Ruby’s voice wavered. Before she could break into tears, Joy thrust the next question at her. “And you married?”

  “No. I called Jared my consort, like my parents. They didn’t marry either, much to my grandparents’—on Dad’s side—displeasure. My mother grew up in a commune, so her parents never married either.”

  “Wow, that’s unusual. The commune, I mean.”

  “I guess.”

  Joy could see that Ruby would be a hard nut to crack. She gave minimalistic answers with general information. “Have you always been in the circle?”

  Ruby’s brows frowned. “With my mother? Of course. I grew up in the circle. I thought that was how every family lived. I’d thought of leaving until Jared came along. We grew together in ways most can’t imagine.”

  “And now what?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What specifics do you remember of Jared the night of the ceremony?” Joy hoped that by throwing in “specifics,” she’d get better information.

  “Jared was happy. He kissed me on the forehead. That’s the last kiss I’ll ever have from him.
We both wanted so much out of Mabon this year.”

  “Why?”

  Ruby hesitated. “It’s a time of change. We sought renewal, expansion. We drank the tea. Val, Crystal, Gregor, and Gunner arrived. I could hear them chatter—happy chatter—as they traipsed through the hedge. I remember looking at Jared and thinking what a glorious night it would be.” Ruby’s voice cracked again.

  Joy prodded her. “Good. Keep going.”

  “We…we took our places in the circle, called the corners, chanted incantations, and I entered a trance. I didn’t hear the crack. I only heard a scream. I looked up. The obelisk fell toward me. I jumped to the side and shouted Jared’s name, but he fell forward.” Ruby closed her eyes. She threw the towel to her eyes.

  Joy had to draw her back from that moment. “Tell me about your trance.”

  Ruby took a moment to calm herself. She wiped away falling tears. “Maybe because I wanted more—Jared and I wanted more—it came so easily. I felt overwhelming energy. White. I had a vision of babies dying in the womb. I felt their deaths. I felt their pain. It sucked the air from my lungs. I don’t really remember what I said, and then a scream. That awful scream! I can’t get it out of my head. I should have grabbed Jared.”

  “You had no time, Ruby. It’s easy to think of what we should have done once a crisis is over.”

  Ruby didn’t respond. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

  Joy touched Ruby’s forearm then pulled it away. She had to keep a professional distance, but she also didn’t want her to suffer. “My father was an F.B.I. profiler, but he quit when he adopted me, and he became a policeman, a detective. I was the hostage negotiator in a situation where my father was the hostage—he’d given himself up so that a criminal would release a mother and her two children. The perp let him go. I’ve always called my father Sam—but that day, I’d transformed. I was going to call him ‘Dad.’ As he walked toward me, a sniper from behind shot and killed him. He died before I could even catch him in my arms. I can’t get the image out of my head either. And I asked, ‘What should I have done?’”