Some Like It Witchy

by Ani Gonzalez

  Oh, why not?

  Last night, she had to admit, had definitely been a date. A good one. They'd talked about the town, gossiped about their friends, and exchanged Banshee Creek survival tips. She'd learned that Gavin liked Chicago Fire and the Night Vale podcasts. She'd told him that she still listened to ABBA, and that she sometimes drove all the way to Manassas to get her Kentucky Fried Chicken fix. He'd countered by confessing that he liked Poltergeist Pizza just fine, but the day Domino's started delivering in Banshee Creek had been the happiest of his life.

  Oh, and murder. They'd also talked about that.

  All in all, a fantastic first date...with just one tiny, little thing missing.

  A kiss.

  She'd totally expected one. This was, after all, the second time Gavin had walked her home.

  And the second time he hadn't kissed her.

  The first missed opportunity had been understandable. They'd both been thrown by the oleander package. Mysterious, vaguely threatening deliveries were not conducive to making out.

  Last night's lack of hot smooching had also been justified. She was almost one-hundred-and-twenty percent sure that Gavin had been about to kiss her when the stupid tanuki had started its punk-rock version of The Monkees' Daydream Believer.

  Her paranormal roommate had horrible timing.

  She grabbed the book and leafed through the pages. Identify Your Perfect Match...nope...Plan a Flawless Evening Without Overdoing It...nope...Angling for a Ring Without Looking Desperate...definitely NOT.

  But a particular chapter stopped her perusal. How to Speed Things Up Without Looking Slutty.

  Bingo.

  She leaned on the counter and read. The book's suggestions ranged from the obvious—show some cleavage? wear perfume?—to the laughable—touch his arm? speak in a husky voice?

  She was chortling over a section that explained how to seductively eat your dinner, when the door chime tinkled, announcing that customers were entering the store.

  She pushed the glossy pink paperback into a drawer and turned to greet the newcomers. Her welcoming smile froze as she recognized them. It was Gwen and Sandy from the Salem coven, and they were arguing.

  "You only just got released from the hospital," Sandy said. "You shouldn't be—"

  "If you think I'm going to let Richard steal my ritual," Gwen said. "You've got another thing coming."

  "He's not stealing it," Sandy replied. "He's just—"

  "Taking over," Gwen grumbled loudly. "The way he always does. As if his family relationship gave him that right. This group isn't about nepotism. It's about inspiration and research and connecting with the world in new and different ways."

  "You do have a way with words, Gwen," Sandy admitted.

  "My ceremonies are the best," her companion said firmly. "As good as, if not better, than Alicia's. I deserve to lead this group." Her eyes narrowed in determination. "And tonight, I'm going to prove it."

  "Aren't you afraid—"

  "That Manny will do something stupid?" Gwen barked. "Like put foxglove in the ritual basin? Well, he won't get the chance. He's not allowed to help with the preparations this time."

  Sandy winced. "He was just trying to attract attention. You know how he is, always feeling like we don't take his 'issues' into consideration."

  "And he killed Alicia and almost killed me," Gwen growled. "As soon as I'm head of this coven that pimply-faced menace will be gone." She sighed. "But I guess, for now, we have to accommodate him." She scanned the store. "Where are the famous hypoallergenic candles?"

  Fiona stepped forward. "Hi, the Sorceress' Best line is over there." She pointed to a shelf containing a large variety of colorful candles. "Are you looking for something in particular?"

  "I decided to do an ocean theme," Gwen said. "We need blue or indigo candles. Seashells would also be good."

  "Richard wants to do the summerlands," Sandy muttered.

  Gwen put up her hands. "Oh, fine." She turned to Fiona. "Throw in a couple of apple candles too, for the sake of tradition. Might as well add a Disney soundtrack."

  That stung. There was nothing wrong with apple-scented candles. Was there?

  "We have a couple of Sea Goddess candles," Fiona said, keeping her thoughts to herself. The customer, after all, was always right. "How many do you need?"

  "One for each member," Gwen replied. "So two dozen total."

  "That many?" Sandy gasped, fingering one of the price tags.

  "Yes," Gwen was firm. "This is my chance. I'm not going to mess it up by being cheap."

  Fiona glanced at the candles on the shelf. She only had six blue candles on display. However, she'd been working on her summer merchandise and so had a bunch of beach-themed items in the back.

  "I have some more, er, Orisha-approved candles. Let me bring them."

  She went to the kitchen and returned with a tray full of candles in shades ranging from sky blue to aquamarine to deep violet-blue. Many of the items were studded with seashells or seaweed. These weren't exactly santeria-ready, but Kat had said that the gods were not picky, hadn't she?

  Gwen and Sandy oohed and aahed over the candles. They spent several minutes picking the ones they wanted. Gwen seemed to have a pretty thorough knowledge of each of her coven members, and she made individual selections that took into account their preferences or goals.

  "This one," she exclaimed, pointing to a light blue candle with white shells, "looks perfect for Manny." She grabbed the tag and read. "Purity and health." She nodded. "Just right."

  "Shall I pack these for you?" Fiona asked.

  They nodded, and she spent the next ten minutes wrapping candles in paper and putting them in a cardboard box with the Wicked Wicks logo. Then she rung their purchases—trying hard to ignore the eye-popping total—and finished the transaction.

  "Thank you very much," Gwen said, accepting her receipt. "The crossing-over ritual is tonight. You're invited, of course. I know Alicia thought your craft was very special."

  "Thank you," Fiona replied, taken aback. "That's very kind of you."

  "The town has been wonderful about this," Sandy added. "We're all very grateful. Anyone who wants to send off Alicia is welcome to come. Please spread the word."

  "I will," Fiona said. "She was a lovely woman."

  "Yes," Gwen said. "Yes, she was."

  With that, they took their purchases and exited the store. Fiona waited until they were well out of sight before breaking into a happy dance.

  Gwen had spent a ridiculous amount of money on candles. Her purchase meant the store would actually break even this month.

  That was definitely worth celebrating. She grabbed her phone and dialed Kat's number. Sure, she could call Gavin, but the Fire Chief with his steady government paycheck wouldn't understand what a big order could do to a small business. Kat, however, would share her excitement.

  "That's amazing," the botánica owner exclaimed. "They cleaned me out too. All of my Olokún stuff and a huge chunk of my mourning-oriented items. They even bought the apple jellies and I despaired of ever moving those. People keep saying that they remind them of Strawberry Shortcake characters."

  "That's fantastic," Fiona replied. "Congratulations."

  "Same to you. Are you going tonight? They invited me, but I'm not sure about it."

  "Don't we have to go? To be supportive?"

  "I guess. Oops, I got customers. See ya."

  "Good luck."

  Fiona cut the call and stared at her sales ledger. The Salem coven—well, Gwen, actually—had just spent a ton of money. They were planning something big tonight.

  And, afterwards, they were kicking Manny out of the group. That made Fiona uneasy. If Manny put the oleander in the fire pit and killed Alicia, they had good reason to kick him out. Even if he didn't intend to hurt anyone, it was a reckless and dangerous mistake.

  Still, something about the expulsion didn't seem right.

  Fiona took out the tote bag with the divination materials and headed for
the kitchen, where she spread the books out on the vintage wood counter.

  It was time for drastic action.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  "SO HOW did date night go?" Sean asked as they walked around Banshee Creek Park, surveying the ritual preparations.

  The scene was a source of déjà vu, with robed figures carrying boxes filled with supplies. There was no Urgent Care set up this time, but he was sure that Dr. Lebensburg was following the preparations closely. The town doc left nothing to chance.

  "It wasn't a date night," Gavin replied, smiling at the forestry interns who were scouring the grounds, heads down like hungry ruminants, searching for nefarious plants.

  The Salem coven was out in force, practicing the crossing-over ceremony for Alicia LeFay. Her son, Richard, was leading them, and judging by the group's endless repetitions, he was quite the perfectionist.

  "That's not what Justin told Olivia when she dropped by to check the public disturbance complaint. He said that Fiona and you were holed up in the stoop doing unmentionable things. He claims that your making out offended the tanuki's delicate sensibilities, and that's why he was making such a racket."

  "We weren't doing anything."

  Literally, he hadn't even gotten to kiss Fiona thanks to that odious raccoon dog spirit. The thing was surprisingly prudish for a fertility deity.

  Sean laughed. "If your nothing had been any louder, I would've had to lock you guys up."

  "Ha, ha, very funny," Gavin replied. "I'm blown away by the humor here."

  Or lack thereof. Cursed tanuki. Between the oleander delivery and the drummer-cum-raccoon dog, he was going to have to take Fiona to freaking Charlottesville for a real date. As far from the notorious Banshee Creek geomagnetic fault as he could go.

  Other people, however, had a different take on their localized geological phenomenon. The Salem coven was setting up its ritual space, and Richard LeFay, seemed to be trying to position the pentagram smack in the middle of the fault. They had a string that traced the so-called "ley line" staked out and everything. And, speaking of string...

  "Hey, Richard," Gavin called out. "That thing is coming down before people arrive, right?"

  The young man stared at him haughtily. For a second, Gavin thought the warlock was going to challenge him, but the dark-haired man seemed to think better of it.

  "We'll remove it as soon as we finish setting up," Richard said.

  The short-haired woman next to him frowned. "But I thought—"

  "Take it down," Richard barked at her. "We already finished the design."

  The woman scurried to comply.

  "He seems testy," Sean muttered.

  "You think?" Gavin replied sarcastically. "He's been like that all afternoon."

  The sheriff tipped his hat back. "Interesting."

  Gavin nodded. "The group seems very tense. The fact that he keeps ordering them around doesn't help."

  They watched the group work for a couple of minutes, and the quality of the interactions did not improve. As Richard became progressively more mercurial, his companions became exasperated. After a particularly caustic comment, the young woman with the short hair finally lost her temper.

  "Quit it, Richard," she shouted. "It's already perfect. What else do you want from us?"

  "I want you to get it right," he yelled back.

  "It's already right," she exclaimed. "And you don't care about that anyway. All you want is for it to be better than Gwen's."

  Richard's face darkened. "I think you need to take a break, Amanda." He looked around at the group, most of which were staring at him, mouths agape. "Maybe we all need a break. Back in ten, guys."

  The group quickly disbanded. Amanda and a few others grabbed snacks from a cooler nearby and quickly coalesced under a tree near Gavin and Sean.

  "That's it," a man with sandy blond hair said. "He's gone bonkers."

  "He was always bonkers," Amanda clarified, opening her water bottle.

  "He's had a tough time," a gray-haired woman noted. "Losing a parent is hard."

  The blond guy took a gulp of water. "Harder if you have unresolved mommy issues."

  "I hated that," Amanda said. "They fought all the time. I was hoping..."

  "That that would be over?" the blond guy asked. "Fat chance. Now he's fighting with Gwen. Same stupid arguments too."

  The gray-haired lady took umbrage at that. "Some of us appreciate the traditional approach. Not everyone relates to obscure deities."

  The blond guy raised a brow. "At least Gwen doesn't make us practice the ceremony fifteen hundred times in a row. I thought I was joining a coven, not Cirque du Soleil."

  The older lady crossed her arms. "Well, Richard's ritual doesn't require a pronunciation guide, so he's got that going for him."

  Amanda glared at them. "Oh, don't you two start now."

  The blond guy glanced back at the clearing. "Looks like the break's over. Back to the salt mines."

  Amanda shrugged. "Come on, it's not that bad."

  They walked back to the glade. "I don't mean to shock you, but there are groups out there that do rituals without practicing them fifty thousand times first. Imagine that, they are spontaneous."

  Amanda laughed. "Lies. All lies."

  The blond guy smirked. "You'll see what I mean when Gwen gets here."

  Gavin and Sean watched them walk to join Richard.

  "Sounds like there's trouble in Witchland," Gavin said.

  Sean groaned. "Oh, you have no idea. Olivia and I interviewed them and gathered a whole host of complaints." He shook his head. "The rituals are too long or they're too short. They're are too complicated or too simple. The group requires too much research or they don't research enough. It was endless."

  "Sounds familiar," Gavin replied, remembering his many encounters with PRoVE and the other local groups. They always seemed to be arguing.

  "Yep, but it goes a little deeper here. There's real resentment."

  "Over ceremonial etiquette?" Gavin asked, although he really shouldn't be surprised. He knew how noxious the local disagreements could get. Even something as innocuous as renaming the local highway had turned into a source of strife. Should it be the Country's Most Haunted Highway or the Country's Spookiest Highway? Was Most Haunted not inclusive enough because it did not cover the local cryptid population? Did the plan suffer from insufficient devil monkey representation?

  Things got hairy, pun intended.

  "Yes," Sean replied. "Richard feels that the group's expectations were getting to his mom. He suspects that, in a wild rush to keep up with the eldritch Joneses, she got careless and used something that she shouldn't have."

  "I take it that this Gwen person is one of the Joneses."

  "Exactly. Gwen, however, thinks that Alicia's lack of concern for the needs of the coven led to someone doing something stupid."

  "The allergy guy?"

  "Got it."

  "Oleander would be pretty stupid."

  "Sure would. There was enough oleander in that bowl to sicken an elephant. That's reckless endangerment at least."

  "He may not have meant to hurt anyone," Gavin argued, remembering his talk with Fiona the previous night.

  The candle maker seemed to think that Manny was innocent. Maybe there was something to that?

  "We also traced the package that Fiona received. It was ordered a couple of hours after the coven members got sick, express delivered, and was paid for with a gift card."

  Gavin considered that. The gift card, in particular, indicated some planning.

  "Sounds like someone panicked," he said.

  "Exactly. The card was purchased at a twenty-four hour store in Reston. We have security footage."

  "Allergy guy, again?"

  "Clear as day. He even sneezed when he pocketed the card."

  Gavin thought about that. "Still doesn't prove motive."

  "That's why we're bringing him in for questioning. Charges will depend on what he says."

  They fell
silent, staring at the gurgling creek. Gavin considered his friend's words. If Manny put the oleander in the fire pit, things looked pretty dark for him, regardless of what Fiona thought.

  "It's hard to kill someone with oleander smoke," he muttered.

  "Yes," Sean agreed in a grim tone. "And yet someone died. Funny how that worked out."

  "Toxicology came in yet?"

  "Yep, plenty of cardiac glucosides, which would aim straight for the heart. Enough to be fatal."

  "It's hard to get that much oleandrin into a person," Gavin noted, remembering his research. "Particularly as a gas."

  "Even harder, if you're dealing with digitoxin."

  "Digitox—" Gavin frowned. "That's not present in oleander."

  "No," Sean said grimly. "It isn't."

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  FIONA STARED at the cowrie shells scattered in front of her, trying to make sense of the jumble. Was that a heart? An arrow? Who knew?

  Well, the author of Scrying for Fun and Profit probably did, but Ms. Raven FarSight wasn't here to help out. Fiona was supposed to make sense of the haphazard images strewn in front of her by her lonesome. Unfortunately, all she had was an arrow stabbing through a misshapen heart. Did that mean a heartbreak in her future?

  That would make sense, except that she wasn't trying to figure out her love life. Her talent wouldn't allow that. She was trying to find out what happened to Alicia LeFay and these stupid shells weren't cooperating.

  At least the shapes around the heart were appropriate. They looked like flowers, which would fit with the general oleander narrative, but that weird sun-like pattern next to the arrow was very confusing. According to the book, sun shapes stood for happiness and joy. That did not fit the picture before her. The whole thing looked dark and ominous.

  It was also completely inscrutable. Even the flowers seemed foreboding. They weren't the star-shaped oleander shape. In fact, they looked more like...gloves? Maybe she was supposed to start her winter shopping early?

  She closed the book and cleaned up the seashells. It was almost time to—