by Neely Powell
Brenna soothed and comforted Lauren, assuring her she had been brave and helpful. When the crying jag was over, however, she looked her cousin in the eye and said, “You need to back off the shifter.”
“You claiming him as your own?” Lauren looked disappointed.
“No,” Brenna countered. “But I don’t want you claiming him, either.” Brenna had been telling Lauren to back off from toys, dolls, clothes and males for as long as the other witch had been alive. The only thing different about Brenna being in charge right now was how much she meant this. She really wanted her beautiful cousin to stop trying to tempt Jake.
“All right,” Lauren said.
Brenna was pleased her younger cousin was still so easily led.
“Now I need to get up,” Brenna announced. “I want to take a shower.”
Her cousin helped her hobble to the bathroom where the warm cascade of water eased some of her aches. Aunt Frances fixed them all a breakfast of rosemary scrambled eggs, toast and ginger tea. Feeling much better, Brenna refused to go back to bed, content to drink tea in a cozy nook overlooking the garden. She kept thinking she’d see something in the flowers that would provide hints about yesterday’s attack.
Lauren hovered, bringing Brenna citrine, green moss agate and lepidolite to soothe and strengthen her. Aunt Frances filled the room with vases of colorful blooms, eager to erase Brenna’s memories from yesterday. The scents were fragrant but somewhat overwhelming. The two caring women were slowly driving Brenna insane.
When she asked to borrow some of Lauren’s clothes and leave, her elder aunt put up a fierce protest. Sarah said Brenna was not to be alone today, Frances proclaimed. Brenna gave in, but she was ready to scream by midmorning when Fiona walked in.
“Sarah wants us all at the house for a coven meeting,” her sister announced.
“Does she have a plan to go after the Woman in White?” Brenna asked.
Fiona’s gaze slid away from Brenna’s. Not a good sign.
Her sister told Lauren and Frances, “You two go on to Sarah’s. I brought Brenna some clothes. She and I will be along as soon as she is ready.”
Brenna knew Fiona had orders not to tell her anything more about the meeting. Most likely she needed to delay Brenna’s arrival too. What was Sarah discussing with everyone else that Brenna didn’t need to know just yet? Though Brenna had pretty much ruled her cousins and her sister their entire lives, she would never be able to convince Fiona to break a direct promise to Sarah, and she didn’t try now.
Brenna dressed as quickly as her aching body would allow. She didn’t fight when Fiona told her to leave her car where it was. Without protest, she rode to the Connelly farmhouse in Fiona’s old van, along with the rattle of camera, audio and ghost-hunting equipment.
Female voices filled the house when they opened the front door. The entire coven was gathered around the dining room table with Sarah at the head chair. Frances was at her right hand. Next to Frances was her daughter, Estelle, flanked by her own daughter, Lauren. Eva Grace sat beside Lauren. To Sarah’s left was Doris with her daughter, Diane. Next was Maggie, whose grandfather had been the elder witches’ brother. Three chairs were empty.
“I think you should have discussed it with her,” Frances was saying to Sarah as Brenna and Fiona paused in the doorway.
Doris soothed, “Now, Frances, you know Sarah only does what she feels is right.”
“Sarah needs to try a little harder to get along with her,” Frances said with a huff.
“Who are you talking about?” Brenna asked, breaking into the conversation.
The room fell silent. All eyes turned to Sarah.
“Please sit down,” Sarah said with her usual authority.
Fiona slipped into her place next to Maggie. Brenna took the chair at the end, opposite Sarah. She looked long and hard at the empty chair that was still available next to Eva Grace. “Who are we expecting?”
Instead of answering her, Sarah said, “I’ve given the events of the past week a lot of thought. I believe the best thing we can do is get some outside help.”
“Who do you think can help us?” Brenna asked.
To her credit, Sarah didn’t delay. “I’ve called Delia and Aiden, and they’ll be here the day after tomorrow. So they’re not really outsiders.”
Brenna sat silent, trading unblinking stares with Sarah as the cacophony of voices rose around them. She leaned forward, her hoarse whisper cutting through the din. “Why the hell would you want to bring them here?”
Sarah’s eyes narrowed and her hands were flat against the ancient wooden table. The coven again fell silent as she answered, “Your mother belongs here.”
“You’ve never thought she was needed before.”
“That was different.”
“When I fell out of the barn loft and broke my arm and my leg, you told her to stay in France.”
“You were taken care of by all of us,” Sarah retorted. “Your mother and father couldn’t have done anything.”
Except maybe comforted me, Brenna thought, soothed me, loved me. Instead, she had been with Sarah who told her everything would be fine and was sure that, somehow, it would. Because Sarah always expected Brenna to be fine, to be strong, to not cry or be afraid. On the one hand, that expectation made Brenna strong and independent. On the other hand, she was taught never to count on anyone but herself.
Brenna’s thoughts turned to another memory. “Why didn’t you call them when I won the art prize my senior year and got a scholarship?”
“We couldn’t interrupt your father’s studies in Russia. They sent you a beautiful gift.”
A bracelet Brenna had thrown over the cliff. Sarah tried grounding her for that, but Brenna was eighteen and it was pointless. Brenna was contented with the frustration Sarah felt when her strongest spells couldn’t locate the lost jewelry. The younger witch had cloaked the bracelet well. It still lay buried under a rock at the bottom of the waterfall.
Memories of anger and hurt and missing her parents bubbled inside Brenna. It was one thing they had ignored her from the moment she was born—Brenna was strong and capable of enduring their absence–but what about Fiona?
She demanded of Sarah. “Remember when the voices came at Fiona so hard and heavy when she was twelve? She was growing up, learning to be a woman and a witch and trying to deal with half the dead people in Mourne County. That didn’t warrant a summons for the mighty Delia and Aiden Burns.”
“Don’t, Brenna,” Fiona said, leaning forward to touch her arm. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does,” Brenna said. “It matters to me why Sarah thinks now is suddenly the time to bring Delia and Aiden here. We’re facing the crisis of our generation. One of us is going to die unless we find a way around it. And judging from what happened to Garth, innocents are going with us. What can the mighty scientist and his witch do about that? The only thing they do well is run around the globe chasing their own dreams. And it’s not like Delia decided to come home. Sarah probably had to beg her.”
“That’s not true,” Sarah claimed. “She wants to be here. She was here when Celia was taken, so she remembers this terrible time. She’s faced what you’re facing.”
“No doubt Aiden wants to write a paper about the phenomenon,” Brenna said with derision.
“He’s your father. Address him with the respect he deserves.”
“All right,” Brenna said tightly. “No doubt Dr. Burns wants to write a paper about the phenomenon.”
“His academic career supported you.” Sarah’s tone remained calm and steady, but her sisters took her hands as she faced Brenna. “Your mother and father always made sure you, Fiona and Eva Grace were taken care of.”
“You’re applauding them for sending us money?” Brenna almost spat out the words. “They dumped me and Fiona here right after we were born and ignored Eva Grace, and you’re telling me I should be grateful because they sent money?” Anger cycled inside her like a storm rising. The china in the o
ld breakfront rattled. The iron light fixture above the table swayed as she pushed to her feet.
“Hold on,” Eva Grace murmured, getting up and taking Brenna’s hand. “Be cool.”
Fiona joined her, clasping Brenna’s other hand. “Don’t blow, Brenna. Please don’t blow.”
Taking strength from the two people closest to her, Brenna grasped hold of her fury. She glared at Sarah. “I hope you don’t regret giving Delia a seat here again.”
Sarah’s eyes narrowed. “Her seat has always been here, waiting. We need her now. We need some positive energy. Not anger.”
“Maybe I’m the one you don’t want at the table.” Hurt nearly broke Brenna’s thinning control. “Maybe I should leave for good this time.” She turned to her cousin Maggie. “Maybe in twenty years when it’s your girl facing the Woman in White, you can beg me to come back and help.”
Maggie broke down into sobs and the tension in the room crumbled. Brenna dropped Fiona’s and Eva Grace’s hands and stalked up the stairs to her attic studio. Like a teenager, she took great satisfaction in slamming her door. She hoped it infuriated Sarah and the rest of them. She couldn’t be with her family right now.
Funny how earlier today she thought her being here could help them find a way through the current nightmare. Now all it meant was that she was going to have to confront her long-absent mother and father, along with the family curse.
Chapter Eleven
“I remember when this church had just one building. And was just a church.”
Deputy Brian Lamont’s comment made Jake look around as he pulled his cruiser into the parking lot of the Circle of Faith Church. The church campus included a large sanctuary, a smaller chapel, an administration building, gymnasium and sports complex, and a school. “It’s definitely more like a community center now.”
“A center for certain Mourne County residents.” Brian’s laugh was dry. “According to my grandmother, this was just a little country church when Fred’s father preached here. About twenty years ago, when the economy was really booming, we got lots of people moving in from Atlanta. Fred decided to offer them what they wanted.”
“Nobody would argue that Fred is dumb. He’s a lot of things, but not dumb.”
“Now he draws a huge crowd from counties all around. They say there’s a waiting list for admission to the school.”
“I guess a lot of those rich people living in their McMansions want a private education for their children.”
Brian laughed again. “And the regular Mourne County schools are full of God-only-knows what kind of people.”
Jake grinned, knowing Brian had pegged the situation. The people who escaped Atlanta’s metropolitan sprawl of traffic and crime were happy to keep to themselves. They had a country club and a golf course as part of The Enclave, the gated community where they lived. Other exclusive developments in surrounding counties provided a large base of similarly minded individuals for socializing. They adopted Fred’s church and school as their own. Of course, they had to shop and do other business in New Mourne, but a real divide existed.
Last year the chief developer asked to turn The Enclave’s security guards into a bona fide police force. The county charter didn’t support such a move and getting it changed was not simple. Garth resisted. Fred sided with the developer, but the move didn’t pass. The Mourne County Sheriff had always been the lead law enforcement official. How would the power shift if there was a separate force for The Enclave?
Jake suspected the issue would come up again. The newest wrinkle was that in April, The Enclave had put one of their own on the County Board of Commissioners. The vote could go another way next time.
The recent troubles had touched The Enclave. Brian and another deputy broke up a teenage party turned raunchy and rowdy at one of the mini estates on Friday night. Fred called immediately, anxious to smooth over the difficulties for the kids involved who attended his school. He blamed everything on a couple of county kids at the party. Now his complaint was vandalism.
“Let’s get this over with,” Jake said to Brian.
The parking lot was almost empty. Fred called this morning when the sheriff was leaving Frances’s house to ensure the investigation wouldn’t interfere with a church service. That’s why he wanted to meet at one o’clock.
Some investigation, Jake thought wryly. What was there to see?
He should have ignored Fred’s instruction and come out here right away, but Brian took the initial call this morning, so Jake knew evidence was collected while it was fresh. That’s why Brian was along for the follow-up chat with Fred.
Jake and Brian walked to the brick sign that faced the road. Fred had it covered in canvas, but Brian pulled it off. The sign usually contained a Bible verse or pithy message. Today all the plastic letters were on the ground. Someone had used black paint to write, “From the world of darkness I did loose demons and devils.”
Once again the quote sounded familiar to Jake.
“Charles Manson,” Brian said.
“Huh?”
“Those are Manson’s words. I looked it up when I got back to the office.”
“Just like that other graffiti on the Dollar General was Gary Gilmore. Another killer.” A shiver ran through Jake as he studied the words. He expected them to start running and bubbling like those on the store, and was relieved when they didn’t. They were still ominous, however. “There’s something wrong in this town, Brian.”
“I know,” the younger man responded. “Supernaturally wrong.”
Jake heard footsteps and turned to see Fred coming toward him. Handsome and muscular at fifty, the pastor had the perfect amount of gray at the temples and filled out his tailored slate-gray suit with broad shoulders. His face held just the right amount of concern.
At his side was his wife, Ginny. Thin and blond, Ginny was beautiful in a remote way achieved through careful grooming and exquisite makeup. She wore an ice-blue dress that matched the coldness in her blue eyes.
Jake took off his hat and nodded to both of them. “Afternoon.”
“This is a travesty,” Ginny replied. “Deputy Tyler, you have to do something about what’s going on around here.”
Fred put an arm around her. “Ginny, it’s Sheriff Tyler now, not deputy.”
“Sorry,” she murmured with an expression that was anything but apologetic. “Sheriff Tyler, what are you going to do about all of this?”
Jake did his best to ignore the couple as he walked around the sign. Just as Brian had reported, there was little to see. Someone had broken the locked glass panel to get at the sign and write their message.
“You know it’s most likely the same boys who messed up that wall downtown,” Fred said. “Now they’ve moved their pranks to my church.”
“I checked on those boys first thing this morning,” Brian said. “They left yesterday afternoon for a weekend trip to Atlanta, right after the sheriff talked to them again about the other graffiti.” The young deputy tried, but he couldn’t quite keep the satisfaction out of his tone. Jake sent him a warning frown.
Fred sputtered, “Then who is it? Who in the…” He caught himself, straightened and calmed his voice. “How about some of their friends? This kind of activity has infected the entire county this summer, so I’m sure there are plenty of other little imps out there.”
“We’re talking to known troublemakers,” Jake assured him. “If we find evidence, we’ll deal with whoever did this.”
“You might want to talk to the Connellys,” Ginny said.
Brian’s expression turned stony. “Excuse me?”
Jake raised his hand to silence the deputy. “What do you think the Connellys have to do with this?”
Ignoring her husband’s frown, Ginny touched manicured fingers to her stylish blond hairdo. “Sheriff Tyler, I’ve lived here my entire life. When trouble happens in Mourne County, you can always trace it back to the Connellys.”
“Which Connellys?” Brian asked. The green in his eyes f
lashed his temper.
“They’re all the same.” Ginny shrugged, then her gaze latched with laser intensity onto Brian. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?”
“Yes, ma’am. Doris Connelly is my grandmother.” His voice deepened. “You think my grandmother had something to do with this sign?”
“Brian,” Jake said quietly. “I’m sure that’s not what Mrs. Williams is saying.”
Ginny’s reply was an arched eyebrow.
Fred stepped in. “Now let’s not go getting all riled up. Ginny is just frustrated and worried. She didn’t mean any disrespect to Doris.” He sent his wife a sharp glance. “Did you, Ginny?”
“Of course not,” she declared, though Jake could tell she was lying. “I’m sorry if I upset you, but I’m very disturbed by what is happening to our county. I don’t want the law to overlook any possibilities.”
“I can assure you we won’t,” Jake said with elaborate politeness. “I think we have all of the photos and evidence we need on the sign.” He turned to survey the front of the church. “You guys don’t have any security cameras out here, do you?”
“That may be our next step if something isn’t done about the troubles soon.” Ginny turned without another word and stalked back toward the sanctuary.
Fred sighed. “Please excuse Ginny. She’s distraught.”
“Of course,” Jake said before Brian could speak. He shot another warning look at the younger man. “Fred, you might as well report this damage to your insurance company and get it fixed.”
“I have a maintenance man waiting to do that right now,” Fred said. “We don’t want this blasphemy on display any longer than necessary.” He gave Jake a hard look. “You better take this seriously, Tyler. You’re sheriff now, but that’s only temporary.”