by Raven Snow
It was only when she was straddling that line between sleep and wakefulness that a familiar feeling snaked through her bones. Her eyes snapped open and Rowen flung a hand over her chest in hopes of keeping her heart from beating right out of it. Something was about to happen. Rowen got those feelings sometimes. She usually got them before a story, before a crime. Usually, she got them before murders. A sudden chill made gooseflesh raise on her arms. She had perked up too soon. Her initial pessimism had been right.
There was something on the wind, and it did not bode well for anyone.
Chapter Four
Dinner was terrible. Rowen liked meat, and there wasn’t any of it to be had at the vegetarian cookout. Rowen wished she had known it was going to be like that before she came. She might have packed snacks, maybe some beef jerky.
It wasn’t like she hated animals. She was all for better treatment of livestock. There was just something about being served a hamburger and biting into a lie. “It’s made out of quinoa,” Crystal Spruce explained. “The meat is my own personal recipe. Delicious, isn’t it? You can’t even tell the difference, can you?”
“Between what?” Tasha asked, softly enough for only the others at her picnic table to hear. “This and a hamburger? When was the last time she had a real hamburger?”
Erin wrinkled her nose. “I’m vegan, and… This isn’t the best veggie burger I’ve ever had.”
“You spit it into your napkin,” Willow pointed out. “I think that’s an understatement, isn’t it.”
Tasha laughed at Willow’s bluntness. Erin colored pink. “I usually like veggie burgers,” she muttered, glancing around nervously as if to make sure no one else had seen her discreetly spit out the burger.
“It’s okay with hot sauce,” said Peony.
Everyone looked in her direction. “Where did you get hot sauce?” asked Rowen.
“I packed it,” Peony replied, like that should be plenty obvious. She removed it from her pocket of all places. It was a full-sized bottle of hot sauce, and her pockets weren’t all that large. Rowen wasn’t sure how she had missed a giant bottle of hot sauce sticking out of one of them. “Careful,” Peony warned her sister as she grabbed the bottle and started drowning her food in the stuff. “Don’t use it all. It has to last the whole week.”
“I will personally buy you a whole case of hot sauce if we fail to ration this,” Tasha said, reaching for the bottle.
Rowen watched the hot sauce get passed around. Initially she was waiting for her turn, but when it was offered to her, she failed to intercept. “Do you not want any?” asked Erin, putting the bottle back down on the table.
“Hmm?” Rowen looked up with something of a start. It took her a few seconds to process what Erin had just said. “Oh, sure. Thanks.” She reached for the bottle, not failing to notice all the eyes on her as she did so.
“What’s up?” asked Willow. Of course, her own family would be able to tell that something was wrong.
Rowen shook her head. She really didn’t want to talk about it, not here anyway. “I don’t know,” she said, which was a total lie. “Guess I didn’t get enough sleep is all.”
Willow rolled her eyes. “If you don’t want to say anything, fair enough. Don’t lie about it, though.”
Tasha looked around the table. “The two of us can go somewhere else if you guys need to talk in private or something.”
“No,” Rowen said quickly. “It’s not anything like that.” She liked Erin and Tasha. She didn’t want to make them feel like they were unwelcome at the table. “It’s something else… just a feeling I got.”
“Uh oh,” said Peony around a bite of hot sauce-drenched veggie burger.
“Uh oh?” Erin repeated. “What kind of feeling did you get?”
Rowen didn’t want to say. She really didn’t. Saying something might ruin everyone’s week. Then again, wasn’t it her obligation to say something? People should be on alert. Her gut feelings were seldom wrong. “I just… I get feelings sometimes, and I… I feel conflicted about this one. Part of me feels like I should say something. The rest of me doesn’t want to ruin everyone’s good time. Aunt Lydia and Aunt Nadine especially. They were looking forward to this so much.”
“We get a lot of crime in Lainswich,” Willow explained to their new friends. “Before something big happens, Rowen can sometimes sense it coming. Like some people can smell a storm on the wind, you know? I mean, I guess that’s kind of how it is. I wouldn’t know. I don’t sense that kind of stuff, thank God.”
“Crime?” Tasha looked out over the other picnic tables. “At the retreat? What kind of crime?”
“Maybe we should go lock our stuff in the car,” Erin murmured thoughtfully.
“She mostly senses murders,” said Peony without missing a beat. “I don’t think locking your stuff up in your car would help.”
“What?” Tasha had taken a bite of veggie burger. She nearly choked on it. “You sense murders?”
“Mostly,” Rowen admitted. She shot Peony a glare for not bothering to sugar coat it. “Not that sensing them ahead of time is much use. It’s not like there’s a whole lot I can do about it if I don’t know what’s coming or when.”
“We could get out of here,” suggested Tasha.
Rowen didn’t miss the look Erin gave her friend, like she suspected she was just trying to get out of the retreat. The idea of a killer would be a pretty good excuse. “I don’t think it would help.” Rowen wasn’t sure if that would come as a comfort or not. Probably not. “For all I know, you could get into some kind of accident on your way out of town. For all I know, whatever’s about to happen will happen in town.” That last part bothered her. She worried about Eric and about the family she wasn’t close enough to keep an eye on.
“It’ll be all right,” said Willow, not that she could know that. “This happens all the time. Just, you know, keep tabs on one another. Watch each other’s backs. You probably don’t have anything to worry about.”
“Probably,” Tasha repeated with a smirk.
The smirk made Rowen wonder if Tasha even believed what she was saying. Maybe telling them she got gut feelings had been too much. She probably wouldn’t believe a relative stranger who tried to tell her they knew the future either. “Forget I said anything.”
“Easier said than done.” Erin was frowning down at her veggie burger. There was something she was mulling over. Finally, she looked up. “If you really believe in all that, you should say something to people.”
Rowen quickly shook her head. “I don’t know when or where it’s going to happen. I basically just know that something is going to happen. Something is always happening somewhere. It’s barely even a prediction if you think about it.”
“It always involves you, though,” Willow said, reminding Rowen of something she didn’t actually need reminding of. It wasn’t like she had forgotten. She just hadn’t wanted to bring that particular detail up. “You’re always involved with the case or you solve the case or both.”
“What, are you like a detective?” asked Tasha.
“No,” Rowen answered before realizing that wasn’t entirely true. “Well, sometimes I work as a private detective. The rest of the time I’m a journalist.”
“Wow,” said Erin.
“Aren’t those conflicting interests?” asked Tasha.
“Kind of. It works for me, though. My husband owns the detective agency, and my cousins and I own the paper.”
There came a low whistle from Tasha. “Well, isn’t that very entrepreneurial of you?”
Rowen could only shrug. “It is what it is. I enjoy both jobs.”
“Neither pays that well,” Willow added.
“True enough.” Rowen directed her attention back to her meal, hopeful they were officially off the subject of that feeling she had gotten.
“You really should tell someone.” Erin again. “I don’t mean to nag, but… It’s the right thing to do, isn’t it?”
Tasha elbowed her friend.
“Don’t bug her about it.”
“No, she’s kind of right,” said Peony. “It makes sense, right?” She looked around the table to see if anyone agreed with her.
Willow raised her shoulders in a half-hearted shrug that suggested she could go either way. “Makes sense. You might as well say something. What could it hurt?”
“Lydia and Nadine’s fun? I thought I said that already.”
“Yeah, well, it’s going to ruin their fun more if someone gets murdered.”
Rowen groaned. “Fine, I’ll say something.” She wasn’t sure precisely what she would say, but what could it hurt to try and pull Crystal aside? Not that she was even sure she could get Crystal Spruce alone. She didn’t seem like the sort of person who made time for that sort of thing. Even now, she looked to be whispering with her assistant. Lydia and Nadine had both managed to snag a seat at her table. Paris had looked terribly disappointed when they had sat down. Not that any of them had managed to talk to her much. From what Rowen had observed, Crystal had gotten up from the table at least half a dozen times, going between Veronica and Phoenix repeatedly. What were they talking about, Rowen wondered? Did it have something to do with the bad feeling she had? God, she really hoped not. As much as she wasn’t looking forward to the weekend ahead of her, she had no desire to see it ended prematurely by death.
***
The meditation session wasn’t great. It wasn’t an ideal group activity on a full stomach. It weighed you down, kept you rooted to your body. It didn’t help that the veggie burger slathered in hot sauce hadn’t exactly agreed with her. She mostly faked it, pretended to be meditating while mulling things over instead.
Meditation was followed by Phoenix leading the way to where everyone was to lay out their sleeping bags. Rowen chose that moment to break away from the group and go after Crystal. She was still at one of the picnic tables, still speaking quietly with her assistant.
“Excuse me,” Rowen began, coming to a stop at the head of the table and attempting to draw their attention.
Crystal and Veronica both looked up. “Yes?” asked Crystal, a smile on her face. Veronica was wearing what was likely her default expression, a frown.
“Do you think I could talk with you for a minute?” Rowen wanted Veronica to leave. She got the sense that Veronica didn’t believe in any of this stuff. Crystal would probably be more receptive if they talked alone.
“Go ahead, dear.” Crystal nodded for Rowen to proceed.
Rowen opened her mouth then closed it just as quickly. What could she say? How should she word this? “Do you think we could go somewhere—”
“You can tell me anything.” Crystal gave Veronica a pat on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about her. She doesn’t bite.” She laughed at her own joke, if you could even call it that.
Rowen made an effort to return the laugh with a smile at the very least. She wasn’t sure how convincing it was. “All right… Well, ah… This might sound a bit strange, but… Has anything unusual been going on?”
“Unusual?” Crystal repeated, folding her hand on top of the picnic table. They were tanned hands, skin crepey and spotted with the age that didn’t show on her face.
There was no way around it. Rowen would have to be blunt. “Sometimes I get this feeling when something is about to happen. A while ago, I got a feeling, and—”
“Oh, don’t we all,” interrupted Crystal with a laugh. “That’s good, though! It’s good that you’re so open to messages the universe tries to send us. See?” She looked to Veronica. “This is exactly why I preach the benefits of meditation.” Her gaze returned to Rowen. “This place is fantastic. I just love it. You remember what I said about Lainswich being a real mecca of magical energy, don’t you?”
“I live here. I’m a Greensmith.”
“Ah.” Crystal nodded in a way that suggested the name didn’t mean a thing to her.
“Lydia and Nadine Greensmith are my aunts. You ate dinner with them a little while ago.”
“Right. Lovely women.”
Rowen sighed. This wasn’t going the way she had planned. “Usually, when I get a feeling like this, something bad happens.”
“Don’t you worry about that, dear. There’s so much good energy here, it’s just about the safest place you could be.” Crystal pointedly ignored the way Veronica cleared her throat as if to object. Maybe there was some legal gray area about how safe you could claim an event was based on good energy alone. “If you’re that worried, I’ll put a little more energy out there, just for you. How does that sound, huh?” She gave Rowen a wink. “I’ll meditate on it tonight, see what I feel.”
“That’s great.” It wasn’t great at all. It was obvious that Crystal wasn’t taking it seriously. Not that she had really expected her to. “When I get a feeling like the one I got earlier, it… It usually means someone is about to die.”
Crystal raised her over-plucked eyebrows. “My, that is quite a premonition.” She maneuvered out from the picnic table and went around it to stand next to Rowen. “This must really be weighing on you, huh?” She put an unbidden arm around Rowen’s shoulders, like they were good friends. Rowen hated it. “I’m glad you came to me with this. I really am.” She began to walk in the direction Phoenix and the others had gone, her arm still around Rowen. “And I think I know how to interpret what you felt. It’s really an incredible experience. I hope you can appreciate that. As scary as it might be, I think you were sent that feeling as a learning experience. You see, in tarot, there’s this one card called the Death card.”
“I know.”
“I’m sure, but what you might not know is that—”
“It’s not always about death. Yeah, I know.” No one could say Rowen hadn’t tried to bring her concerns to Crystal’s attention. This was a mistake. There were better things she could be doing, more efficient things. “Forget I said anything.” Rowen dug her heels in and turned. She had no strong desire to catch up with the rest of the group.
“Where are you going?” Crystal called after her as she began to walk in the opposite direction.
“Bathroom,” lied Rowen, not bothering to look back.
***
It was the cabin Rowen was actually headed for. There was something she had left there. Plus, she could catch up with the group when they came to retrieve their sleeping bags.
The door was unlocked, and everyone’s things were right where they had left them. Rowen went to her bag and removed the phone from where she had stashed it. Her pockets were too small and the phone was too big to carry it on her person. Besides, the last time she had looked at the face of the phone, she didn’t have a signal. That sort of thing was common in the mountains, she supposed. Even so, she hoped there was some place in camp where a phone call could successfully be made. She didn’t want to have to ask any of the retreat staff if she could use the satellite phone. They would probably refuse her.
Sure enough, Rowen didn’t have any bars. She swore under her breath. “All right, think.” Where would be the best place to get a signal? Briefly, Rowen entertained the idea of climbing onto the roof. But, no. No amount of mental gymnastics could convince her that following through with that plan was a good idea. She could picture it, the whole camp returning to the cabin to find her quivering like a baby deer, one arm holding her cell phone high while the other stretched down toward the roof itself, desperate to hang on to something.
Rowen sighed and walked from the cabin. All she could realistically do was walk in ever-widening circles and hope a bar or two popped up. Phone held aloft, Rowen began. She walked a spiral pattern outward, using the cabin as her starting point. It wasn’t long before she hit the woods. Getting lost wasn’t a concern. The woods directly beside the campground weren’t especially dense. She could see her way back to the cabin even in the twilight. Spraining an ankle? Now, that might be a concern. There was an unmistakable slope, one that headed back down into the town of Lainswich. It was there that Rowen’s phone finally made a chirp.
/> Rowen stopped where she was and lowered her phone to face level. Sure enough, one bar was there… sort of. It kept blinking in an out. “Come on,” Rowen urged, breaking her spiral pattern to head further down the hill. A second bar appeared— then went away just as quickly.
“Come on,” Rowen hissed again, ready to dash her phone against the rocks. She took a deep breath so as not to do anything rash and went deeper yet. Two bars, no bars, two bars, no—There it was. Rowen lowered the phone and made her call.
No one answered at first. Rowen worried that, perhaps, she had done all this for nothing. She was already trying to think of who to try and call next, before she lost signal for good, when someone answered.
“Hello?” answered Ben, sounding ever so slightly confused. “Is everything all right?” He was Rose’s husband. He almost certainly knew where Rowen was. Ben also happened to be the Chief of Police. If she told anyone about her concerns, it needed to be him.
“Hey, it’s Rowen.”
“I know.”
“Right, well, I just wanted to mention that I got one of those feelings.”
“What feeling?”
“You know.” Rowen didn’t feel like explaining the specifics. Ben knew her. He knew her well. He also knew to trust those gut feelings of hers. They had aided him frequently with his police work in the past.
There was a long and low sigh on the other end of the phone. “You think someone is about to get killed.”
“I don’t know for sure, but that’s usually what it is, isn’t it?”
“Past experience would suggest you’re right about that. Do you know where it’s going to happen?” Suddenly, there was concern in Ben’s tone. “Do you need me to head up to the retreat? Do you think it’s going to happen there?”
