by Ani Gonzalez
Except he couldn't. His mind kept drifting to Fiona's mysterious package. He didn't doubt that the delivery came as a surprise to her. She'd been genuinely shocked. He'd checked the website for the Vermont supplier, and she'd been absolutely correct. The prices were outrageous. He knew Fiona was very conservative with her money. No way would she order something that expensive.
But who would send her something like that?
Certainly not a secret admirer. That had come as a relief, which had surprised him.
How had that happened?
Their relationship had been mostly confrontational up to this point. He'd inspect her establishment, and she'd complain about it. He'd see her at the grocery store, and she'd make a snarky comment. He'd reply in kind. They'd go to a town meeting and he'd present new regulations for town businesses, and she'd get up and criticize them. It had gone on and on.
The whole thing had been rather fun.
His train of thought was interrupted by a loud smash and a string of curses. Gavin stopped his workout and turned.
Sheriff Stickley was sitting on a bench, rubbing his arm. A large dumbbell lay at his feet.
Gavin approached him. "Have you lost your mind? You're going to injure yourself."
"I'm fine," Sean replied, grimacing. "I was just distracted."
"Famous last words."
Sean groaned, flexing his arm. Gavin waited quietly, knowing that questions would be useless. Something was bothering Sean, but he'd talk when he was ready.
The sheriff got up and put the dumbbell back on the rack. "Is it always like this?"
"Like what?"
Sean spread out his hands. "This town." He paused. "I guess I'm talking about the tourists, but really, are things always this crazy?"
"Crazy how?" Gavin asked, treading cautiously. There was a lot of looniness in Banshee Creek. He honestly didn't know which specific kooky aspect of the town Sean was referring to.
"The reasons people give for doing things." Sean ran his hand through his hair. "The stars weren't aligned or maybe they were. The moon wasn't right or maybe it was and they couldn't miss the opportunity. The goddess this or the goddess that."
"Does this have to do with an interrogation?" Gavin hazarded. Sean was probably questioning the Salem coven members about Alicia's death.
Apparently, he didn't get the answers he'd hoped for.
"I mean," Sean continued in an exasperated tone, "I was chasing raccoons a couple of months ago. Raccoons."
"You mean the devil monkeys?"
"Yes, those." Sean sounded positively despondent. "I was using star charts to track them."
"But you found them." Gavin tried his best to console his colleague. "That's what matters."
"And the raccoons made sense next to the Salem witches. They're just..."
"Witchy?" Gavin ventured.
"Nonsensical." Sean threw up his hands. "Nobody knows why Alicia planned her ritual the way she did. They all say it was a new way of doing things. Nobody knows what she used."
"So she was secretive."
"An open book, they say," Sean complained. "All her rituals were published and she always followed the same steps." He let out a frustrated breath. "If she always did the same thing, how can you not know if she put stuff in the bonfire?"
"Can't build a timeline, uh?"
"They were all moving around, getting stuff ready. Anyone could've put something in the bonfire without drawing attention. The Richard guy set up the wood. Gwen prepared the kindling, but others chipped in. The one with all the weird allergies—he spent an hour recounting his health woes—prepped the site, but Gwen and Richard didn't think he was doing a good enough job, so they helped. Other covens came by and gave a hand or just hung around to gossip. It was chaos."
"Sounds like it," Gavin agreed, privately thinking that it sounded like a normal Banshee Creek evening.
He wouldn't want to be in charge of law enforcement in this town. Fire prevention was bad enough. Crime fighting would give him an ulcer.
Well, another ulcer.
"So you're focusing on the fire?" he asked. "It's definitely suspicious."
Sean nodded. "The victims all had different roles to play in the ceremony, so the smoke was the only common denominator."
"The wood was fine. Something must have been added to the fire."
Something like Fiona's fire starters.
"Several things were added to the fire," Sean said. "Everyone had special requests or intentions for Beltane, so they all had little bundles or packets of herbs. Some people had items, like envelopes with script or homemade dolls."
"Voodoo dolls?" Gavin asked, intrigued.
He was skeptical about the efficacy of the voodoo doll, even in this town where the geomagnetic fault supposedly made magic stronger. He'd personally received at least fifty of the items during his tenure, all with pins in strategic places. As far as he could tell, the dolls had no effect whatsoever.
"Apparently," Sean answered. "The point is that everyone threw stuff into the fire. It was part of the ceremony."
"What about the bowl?" Gavin asked, thinking about the strange sigils written on it. Something about that particular item still made him uneasy.
Sean nodded. "The bowl is interesting. No one claims ownership."
"Isn't that suspicious?"
"They don't seem to think so. Someone could have had a particularly important request. If so, it made sense for that person to make a special offering to put into the bonfire."
"Without anyone else knowing about it?"
Sean nodded. "Alicia was very strict about what went into the fire. She didn't want anything that would alter or influence the ceremony, so she checked everyone's contributions. But apparently, people frequently circumvented her vigilance. They treated it as a challenge."
So anyone could have put the bowl in. "Do we know what was in it?"
Sean shook his head. "Not yet. I'm waiting for analysis." He glared at the cellphone that lay next to him on the bench. "I hate waiting."
"Fiona says it wasn't hers," Gavin noted.
Sean eyed him sharply. "And you believe her?"
"Yes," Gavin said simply.
His reply was greeted by silence.
"I believe her too," Sean finally admitted. "It did not look like a Wicked Wicks product. The wax was all over place, for one."
"They may have burnt one of her fire starters over it."
"Probably." Sean wiped his face with a towel. "We checked Kat's merchandise too. It was all accounted for and seemed harmless. Whatever was put into that fire didn't come from the town."
"Fiona received a package last night," Gavin said.
"I know. She called the police early this morning."
That was a good strategy. The candle maker was no dummy. Getting the police involved as quickly as possible was the right thing to do.
"Olivia tracked the package as soon as she found out. The plants were purchased early in the morning, right after Alicia died."
"Someone panicked," Gavin noted.
"Yep, as soon as they heard of her death, they tried to shift the blame."
"Can we trace the payment?"
"Olivia's working on that, but I expect it to be a gift card payment, probably bought in Fairfax or Leesburg and thus difficult to trace. We have to find out where it was bought, and get security footage. It's going to take a while."
"Olivia must be having fun."
Sean laughed. "Actually, she is. She loves this stuff."
"So you're thinking the substance in the bowl is oleander."
"Ninety-nine percent sure."
A beeping sound interrupted him. Sean threw down the towel and reached for the phone. He scrolled down, reading the message.
"Never mind," he said. "Lab results are coming in. I'm now at one hundred percent."
Gavin tensed, digesting the information. Someone had committed a crime and tried to blame Fiona.
He was a pretty sanguine fellow. His line of wor
k put him in constant contact with the worst of human nature. He'd seen it all: arson, negligence, intoxication. At first, these things upset him, but eventually he'd come to accept them.
Humans did horrible things. That was just the way of life.
But this was different.
This time he was really angry.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
"VENUS IS in Taurus, which is very promising..."
Fiona tried to concentrate on Luanne's chatter, but it was useless. The fortune teller was at her geekiest today, which meant she was explaining every single, painstaking step of her analysis. But Fiona was not interested in the astrological minutia. She was only doing this to indulge her friend.
She didn't care about whether she and Gavin MacKay were cosmically compatible. Not even a little bit.
"Such a stubborn pair," Luanne muttered. "With Mars going into Capricorn this week, it doesn't bode well." She tapped her finger against her chin. "But it could be worse," she added cheerfully. "We could be having a full moon."
Fiona's mind wandered. The botánica's fortune-telling alcove was certainly a cozy spot. The chairs were plush, the stained glass floor lamp created a warm, honeyed glow, and Luanne's voice was soothing. It was all very relaxing and she found herself dozing slightly.
"She could have poisoned us all, Richard."
The loud whisper woke Fiona from her reverie. Luanne, eyes riveted to the screen of her laptop, didn't react.
"It was an accident," a male voice retorted.
The alcove's private setting meant that Kat's customers were unaware that they were being overhead. Fiona, however, could hear them quite clearly.
It was a pretty neat trick. She wondered if this accounted for some of Luanne's putative omniscience. Sure, the fortune teller had real talent, but the botánica was a fairly gossipy place. Luanne's favorable location had to help.
Fiona leaned back, trying to get a clear look at her quarry. A tall dark-haired man was glowering at Sandy, the girl who'd come to the botánica earlier. They seemed to be in a heated argument.
"I know she is—was—your mother," Sandy hissed. "And she paid the heaviest price, but what she did was completely irresponsible."
"We don't know that she did anything," Richard fumed. "You're jumping to conclusions."
"Manny said he saw a big bowl filled with leaves inside the fire pit. Only Alicia would dare put in something that big."
"No one complained about Mother's rituals before," Richard ground out.
"Manny did," Sandy retorted. "Often."
Richard gave a dismissive wave. "Manny's paranoid. He doesn't count."
Sandy arched a brow. "Apparently, he's not paranoid enough."
Richard shook his head. "I'm not ready to deal with this." There was a tremor in his voice. "I still can't believe she's gone."
Sandy put a hand on his shoulder. "Oh, Richard..."
"And we still have to wait for the stupid autopsy and whatnot." Anger creeped into his tone. "And now Gwen's plotting—"
"She's just trying to help," Sandy interjected.
"I'm not stupid," Richard said. "I know what's she's trying to do. Let's go talk to the proprietor about that ritual."
They walked to the counter to confront Kat, and Fiona heard no more.
She sat back in the chair, thinking. The Salem coven seemed to think that Alicia had put the poisonous plants in the fire herself.
Curiouser and curiouser.
"That's what happened," Luanne exclaimed. "I made a mistake. We do have a full moon coming." She pursed her lips. "Oh, that's terrible."
Fiona jerked to attention. "Why is it terrible?"
Luanne looked up, startled. Fiona had the odd impression that the fortune teller had forgotten she had a client.
Luanne's eyes widened innocently. "No reason. None at all."
"Spill it, Lu," Fiona ordered. "What's going on?"
She'd assumed that this little fortune-telling session would be a harmless guilty pleasure. Had she been wrong? Was Luanne seeing more in her cards than Fiona intended?
More doe eyes. "Nothing." She grabbed a pack of cards. "Let's do a tarot spread."
Fiona rolled her eyes. What could a Tarot spread possibly...
A thought struck her, and she held up a hand, stopping Luanne. "Wait. Tarot is about knowledge, right?"
Luanne nodded. "Yes, it's not really about discerning the future. It's more about self-knowledge and understanding. About expanding your capabilities and becoming everything you can be."
"Can you figure out what happened at the Beltane festival?" Fiona leaned forward eagerly.
Luanne looked uncertain. "It doesn't—"
Fiona slumped back in her chair. "I know. It doesn't work that way. I guess you can't really read Alicia, then."
Luanne looked thoughtful. "Most in the craft can't. The cards aren't supposed to do that."
Fiona's eyes narrowed. "But?"
Luanne knew things, everybody was aware of that. If anyone could clear up Fiona's reputation, it was Luanne.
The fortune-teller sighed. "But I can do it," she confessed.
"I knew it," Fiona exclaimed.
Luanne glanced at her, eyes narrowed. "And so can you."
Fiona jerked. "Me? Are you kidding? I've never tried anything like that. I just make candles."
And light fires. And cause explosions. And generate tons of mayhem.
"And that bothers you?" the fortune teller asked shrewdly. "Do you sometimes feel like you could do more? If you weren't afraid, that is."
Fiona jerked in surprise. What a curious question.
Did it bother her?
Sure, she'd voluntarily limited herself, but she was proud of her work and her shop. Candle making wasn't everyone's cup of tea, but it was her passion. The satisfaction she derived when she found the perfect mix of extracts for a relaxation candle or the right kind of flower for a purification candle was indescribable. She was drawn to the right ingredients as if by instinct and knew exactly what to put in and how to mix. Her products always had the desired effect. She just knew what needed to be done.
As if by magic.
Maybe there was more to her power than she'd thought.
Luanne smiled. "There you go." She closed her laptop. "You don't need my charts and cards. You can do it all yourself. You just have to find the right tools."
Fiona opened her mouth to speak, but at that same moment, Kat interrupted them.
"I'm going to get some tea from the bakery," she said, looking very much as if she wanted to strangle someone. "I need to calm down before I damage something." She paused. "Or someone. Does anyone want anything?"
"Are you okay?" Fiona asked. "What happened?"
"Mars in Capricorn happened," Luanne muttered.
Kat pushed an errant red-tinged curl behind her ear. "It's just the coven people." She took a deep breath. "They don't mean it. They're just distraught."
"Don't mean what?" Fiona asked, remembering the conversation she'd overheard. Distraught was putting it mildly.
"They accused me of negligence," Kat said between gritted teeth. "They think Alicia purchased dangerous materials from me and that I should have warned her."
"What?" Fiona exclaimed.
Luanne muttered something about war gods and goats.
"They're wrong, of course. Alicia bought empty herb packets and chamomile sprigs from me. There's nothing dangerous about chamomile," she said fiercely. "Nothing. In fact, I'm to go drink about a gallon of it now. I need a relaxant after that conversation."
"I'm so sorry," Fiona commiserated. "Why would they take it out on you?"
"They're going through a succession struggle," Kat answered. "Apparently, Richard and Gwen both want to lead the coven now. Gwen asked Sandy to prepare a new ritual as a way of establishing her position. Richard came over today to cancel Gwen's order. It's a freaking telenovela and I want nothing to do with it."
"But why are you involved?" Fiona asked.
"I'm not
," Kat said firmly. "My ritual, however, is another story. Gwen is using my Olokun suggestion to bolster her position as celebrant." She glanced back at the merman statue still standing on her counter. "It's a great concept, don't get me wrong, and I like to be recognized by practitioners, but I still don't like being in the middle of this."
"If they like it, what's the problem?" Fiona asked.
Kat rolled her eyes. "He needs to present an alternative that's just as good. Otherwise he can't compete. I'm now tasked with finding that." She grimaced. "Hence the bakery run for refreshments. Do you want anything?"
"Nope," Fiona said. "I need to return to my store."
"I'll have my usual," Luanne said, reopening her laptop. "Tell Patricia to add an extra cinnamon shot." She cracked her knuckles. "I need inspiration."
Fiona got up quickly, fearing Luanne would be inspired to share more astrological insights about her nonexistent romance with the fire chief, and followed Kat out of the store. Her friend wasn't her usual combative self; Kat looked tired and upset.
"Seriously, what's wrong?" Fiona asked. This wasn't like Kat at all. She conquered problems effortlessly, she didn't let them defeat her. "You seem really upset about this."
"Nothing." Kat swept her hair back. "I just hate dealing with jealous, petty people. They drain my energy."
"They're that bad?"
"Even worse," Kat replied, eyes darkening. "Gwen and Richard have apparently been at each other's throats for months. Alicia was planning to retire to focus on her writing and the succession drama rivaled the War of the Roses."
That did sound horrible.
"And the rest of the group is no better," Kat continued. "Richard gave me a huge list of allergies and special needs I have to take into consideration. Everyone needs to be accommodated. It's insane."
"Just don't do it."
"I feel I have to." Kat's jaw tightened. "They are a very influential coven. I have to think of my reputation. It's a small community and everyone gossips like crazy."
"Well, try to stay out of the drama."
"I will," Kat replied. "No wonder Alicia wanted a special Beltane night that would bring her coven back together. She was dealing with a nest of vipers."