Silenced by a Spell

by Fiona Grace

  Tom frowned. “Was there a card?”

  Lacey shook her head. “There was absolutely nothing. It was empty.”

  She shifted in her seat and retrieved the envelope from the back pocket of her jeans, as if needing the physical evidence to prove the absurdity of it.

  She handed it across the table to him, chewing her lip with consternation as she watched him inspect it inside and out. He looked just as perplexed as Lacey had felt when she’d opened it and discovered it to be empty.

  “Why would your dad send you an empty envelope?” he said, handing it back to her.

  Lacey shrugged as she took the envelope. “I wondered the same thing.” She stared at it, at the next jigsaw piece in the puzzle of her father’s disappearance. “Do you think it’s a clue?”

  Tom fidgeted. His hand went back to her arm, only this time, he squeezed it gently. “If it is, I think it’s his way of saying he doesn’t want to be found.”

  He said it in a gentle voice, but Lacey pulled back suddenly, as if his words were a slap. After all the effort she’d put into tracing her father, having Tom suggest he was trying to tell her to back off was beyond hurtful. And it was not something she was willing to accept.

  “No. There has to be more to it than that,” she said, firmly. “Why send anything at all if he wants to be left alone? Why give Jonty Sawyer a forwarding address in the first place if he didn’t want to be found?”

  She could hear the childlike desperation in her own voice.

  Tom looked at a complete loss. When it came to theories about Lacey’s missing father’s whereabouts, they’d drained the well months ago. He’d listened to her go over and over the same theories again and again, with nothing ever coming to anything.

  “I don’t know,” he said, sounding exhausted. “Why give a forwarding address to an auctioneer of all people? Why close down his store in Canterbury and move to Rye, only to move on again? When has any decision your father’s ever made, made any sense at all?”

  He seemed frustrated. Exasperated, even. The emotional toll of Lacey’s father’s disappearance had worn him out after just a few months. But Lacey had been living with it for over twenty years. And she wasn’t about to give up. Not now. Not when it felt like she’d gotten so close. Whether she had Tom’s support or not, she was pressing on.

  She stared down at the envelope, desperate to understand what it meant.

  Then, suddenly, under the bright lights of Crag Cottage’s kitchen, she noticed something she’d failed to before in the dim light of her store. Written very faintly, in pencil, on the back flap of the envelope, was a return address.

  Lacey’s heart flew into her mouth.

  It wasn’t over. Her father had given her another clue. Tom was wrong.

  A surge of hope fluttered in her chest. She clutched the envelope tightly, feeling tears prick in her eyes. Her hopes of finding her long-lost father were still alive. She decided to keep that hope to herself for now.

  Her mind began to race as she tried to make sense of it. What was her father trying to tell her? That he wanted to speak but he didn’t feel comfortable doing so through the postal service? Or that he didn’t want to be the one to start the conversation and wanted her to have the first word?

  Lacey made a resolution to herself. Once her auction was over, she would make the first move. And she didn’t want to leave anything to chance. No more waiting in the dark. She would go to the return address on the envelope. She would find her father.

  With a fire lit inside of her, Lacey decided to throw herself into auction preparations, starting first thing next morning.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “What image do you want me to use on the website?” Finnbar asked, looking up from the laptop.

  The shop had been a flurry of activity all day. It was all hands on deck to get everything ready in time for tomorrow’s auction, especially since everyone wanted to attend the Halloween party at the Lodge this evening.

  Lacey glanced over at her eclectic haul. She’d purchased some black crushed velvet to cover the display shelves in, and all her oddities were looking rather appealing if she did say so herself.

  Her gaze was drawn to the rune-covered tome.

  “The book,” she said. “It’s the creepiest thing here in my opinion.”

  Which was saying a lot, considering a real skeleton was part of the collection. But none of the other items gave Lacey chills in quite the same way the strange book did, nor made Chester growl.

  Finnbar fetched the book and leafed through the pages.

  “I’d agree with that,” Finnbar said. “Any idea what its history is?”

  Typical that the history student would be so curious, Lacey thought. But she was curious too. She needed to value it, after all.

  “None,” she said. “I don’t even recognize the language.”

  “It looks obsolete,” Finnbar told her. “Maybe a form of Latin, or Old French?” He flipped it over. “There isn’t even an author’s name on it.”

  “No date either,” Lacey added.

  “A real mystery,” Finnbar said with a chuckle. He propped it up and took a photo on his phone.

  “You can say that again,” Lacey replied.

  Just then, the shop bell tinkled. Lacey looked up, expecting to see Gina returning from the print shop with the posters. Despite the unfortunate mishap of last auction’s posters, Lacey had still tasked Gina with the flyers and posters because she was much better at sweet talking the men into fast-tracking the work.

  But it was not Gina. It was Taryn.

  Lacey deflated. It was never good news when Taryn was present.

  “Your decorations are horrible,” Taryn declared, as she thundered inside.

  Lacey glanced around at Gina’s OTT decorations. They looked like they’d been purchased from the cheapest bargain bin party store she could find.

  “I know,” she replied with a sigh.

  Taryn opened her mouth to say something more, then closed it again. She’d obviously come in expecting a fight and it had taken her by surprise when Lacey had agreed with her.

  “What are they for anyway?” she continued, though some of the bluster had left her.

  Lacey shrugged. “Beats me. I’m still not even sure exactly what we’re supposed to be celebrating.”

  “In this town, dead witches, apparently,” Taryn said, grimacing at a plastic spider dangling from the ceiling. “But how covering the windows in gaudy tat and eating too much candy achieves that, I’ll never know.”

  Lacey nodded. She couldn’t quite believe she was actually agreeing with Taryn on something. It had taken nearly a year, but at last the two women had found some common ground.

  “Can I help you with anything?” Lacey asked. “Or did you just want to vent about the holiday?”

  Taryn gave her a withering look but didn’t answer the question. It seemed she had no witty retort since they actually agreed for once.

  Finnbar looked up from his laptop.

  “Hello, Taryn,” he said, politely, as he leaned his skinny frame across the counter to plug his cell phone cable into the USB port.

  “What are you dressed as?” Taryn asked, narrowing her dark eyes.

  Lacey hadn’t actually asked him that question herself. She’d been too preoccupied with auction preparations to pay much attention to his and Gina’s silly outfits. Looking at him now, she guessed Napoleon Bonaparte.

  “I’m Logan Flint,” Finnbar said, as he lowered himself into the chair.

  “Who?” Lacey asked.

  Taryn rolled her eyes. “He’s a Witchfinder General.”

  “Wilfordshire’s most famous Witchfinder General,” Finnbar added. “The very Witchfinder General who caught Violet Jourdemayne.”

  “Isn’t that a bit risky?” Lacey said. “Violet Jourdemayne seems like a cult hero around these parts. Aren’t you worried someone will, I don’t know, want to take it out on you?”

  Finnbar just shrugged. He clearly was not concerne
d. He looked back to Taryn. “What’s your costume?”

  Lacey laughed. Taryn was dressed in her usual LBD. Finnbar could be quite unobservant.

  “Taryn’s not in costume,” she said.

  But Taryn interjected with a frown. “What do you mean? This is my costume. I’m dressed as a person who hates Halloween.”

  Lacey burst out laughing. Taryn probably hadn’t been intending to be funny, but Lacey was amused nonetheless.

  Lacey leaned on her elbows across the counter to Taryn.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the Halloween party at the Lodge tonight?” she asked.

  She was feeling generous, since Taryn had managed to be in her company for a good few minutes now without infuriating her. And since there really hadn’t been any reason for her to be here, Lacey wondered if perhaps she was a little lonely and too proud to admit it.

  “I’d rather stick rusty nails in my eyes,” Taryn replied, dryly, completely destroying that theory.

  “Ooh,” Finbarr said, piping up. “That’s a good idea for a costume. I might steal that for next year.”

  Taryn shot him a narrow-eyed glare, then marched away.

  And order is restored, Lacey thought with a chuckle.

  “So, what do you think?” Finnbar asked, pointing to the laptop screen.

  He’d loaded the photo of the book onto the special auction events page he’d created. Along with the photo of the book, he’d added some cartoon skulls which Lacey wasn’t particularly thrilled by, but there wasn’t really time to quibble over that now.

  “It looks great,” she replied.

  The bell tinkled again, and in waddled Gina. She was dressed as a magpie, and the big furry costume was clearly a bit of an encumbrance.

  “Got them!” she exclaimed, waving two large rolled up posters over her head.

  “Great,” Lacey said. “Let’s see.”

  She wanted to double-check Gina’s creation to make sure she hadn’t accidentally done anything silly like the time she’d put a donkey instead of a horse on the equestrian auction posters.

  Gina unfurled one of the glossy posters triumphantly and held it out with a grin on her face.

  On proud display in the middle was the exact same photo of Alice the donkey that had found its way onto her equestrian posters … only this time a witch’s hat had been superimposed onto her head.

  Lacey burst out laughing.

  “How did you even manage that?” she exclaimed, shaking her head as she chuckled.

  “The boys at the print store suggested it,” Gina replied. “They’re absolute whizzes with technology. I thought it was rather funny myself.”

  “It is,” Lacey replied. “Who knew Alice would look so fetching in a witch’s hat? We might have to make her our mascot for every auction. I can just picture her in a wide-brim straw hat for a summer-themed auction.”

  Gina rolled up the poster again. She’d also had a bunch of flyers printed up, ready to be distributed at the party.

  “I think we’re all done,” Finnbar said, scanning the to-do list of auction prep. He put a big check mark on the last item on the page, which was the posters.

  “Excellent,” Lacey said.

  She was starting to feel quite excited now. Fall was her favorite season, after all, and if she’d found a way to make the blip that was Halloween more palatable, then it was all the better.

  “Not quite everything,” Gina said.

  Lacey looked at her with querying eyes. “Oh?”

  “You,” Gina said, pointing at her. “Where’s your costume?”

  Lacey was in her usual jeans and shirt combo; the costume she’d promised her employees she’d wear was folded at the bottom of her bag.

  “Do I have to?” she asked.

  “Yes!” Gina and Finnbar replied in unison.

  “And hurry,” Gina added. “The cab will be here soon.”

  “Fine,” Lacey replied.

  There was no point arguing.

  She headed into the restroom and changed into a floor-length black gown. She added some dark eyeliner beneath her eyes and covered her lips in bright red lipstick, before smudging it with the back of her hand to give the impression of smeared blood.

  “Ta-da!” she announced as she headed back to the main shop floor to see the others.

  Gina let out an exclamation of delight. “Are you a vampire?”

  “I guess,” Lacey said. “Or a ghost.” She shrugged. “Or just a goth.”

  “Well, whatever you are, it’s perfect,” Gina said. “There’s just one thing missing.”

  “Oh?” Lacey replied.

  Gina held up the alien antennas for Chester and raised her eyebrows at Lacey. “He’s the only one not in costume…” she said, leadingly.

  Lacey looked over at the two English Shepherds. Boudicca’s devil horns had now been complemented with a shimmery red cape, which she seemed absolutely thrilled about.

  Lacey sighed with defeat. “You can try if you must, but I don’t think he’ll let you.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Gina replied.

  She approached Chester and attached his silly googly antennas. To Lacey’s astonishment, he not only placidly allowed her to, but he looked about as pleased as Boudica to be wearing them.

  “I take it back!” Lacey exclaimed.

  She had to admit the two dogs did look adorable side by side like that.

  “The taxi’s here,” Finnbar said from the door.

  Lacey collected her purse and headed out to where the six-seater cab was idling beside the sidewalk. Tom—a robot—and his assistant Emmanuel—a zombie—were waiting inside for them.

  Lacey quickly locked up the store, growing more excited by the second for the party.

  But just as she headed to the cab to join them, a large stray black cat streaked across her path, nearly tripping her.

  Gina caught her by the elbow.

  “Oh no!” the older woman exclaimed. “A black cat crossing your path is bad luck!”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Lacey said skeptically.

  She didn’t believe in bad omens or any of that superstitious stuff, and it would take more than a black cat to convince her!

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The Lodge was lit from the outside by a pathway of flaming torches. Creepy string music floated down the steps toward the group. With the first cold snap of fall in the air, and the smoky smell of bonfire, Lacey was finally starting to feel in the holiday spirit.

  She flashed Tom a smile as they ascended the steps hand in hand. His robot costume was pretty impressive. He was wearing a silver jumpsuit, and had gone to the effort of covering his entire face in silver face paint. If it weren’t for his striking green eyes, Lacey might not have recognized him.

  They headed inside the foyer and Lacey let out a small gasp at the sight of it.

  The foyer had been covered with beautiful draping black silk, and was lit only by candles in standing bronze candelabras. The water in the central stone fountain had been dyed black, and spooky doll’s heads had been placed all around it.

  Lacey shuddered and squeezed Tom’s hand for comfort. “Looks like Suzy’s gone all out.”

  He nodded, his gaze fixed on the dolls. “Very creepy.”

  Pretty twinkling fairy lights lit a path through the foyer and to the main door into the hallway, which had been covered in a thick red curtain with gold cord. A sign above read: Enter if you dare.

  Lacey couldn’t help but feel anxious about entering inside. If Suzy had gone to the lengths of pulling a bunch of dolls’ heads off their bodies, then who knew what other kind of gruesome ghoulies she had lurking behind the curtains ready to pounce?

  Gina clearly had no such qualms herself, because she hurried straight through, her stuffed magpie tail disappearing through the curtains. Finnbar shrugged and went up next. He was swiftly followed by Emmanuel.

  Lacey and Tom were left alone.

  “Lacey, before we head inside,” Tom said, “I just want to ap
ologize about what I said the other day about your father. It wasn’t fair of me to judge him so harshly, when I have no idea what has driven his actions. I just hate the turmoil he puts you through, and it makes me protective.”

  Lacey smiled at him tenderly. “You don’t have to apologize. You’ve been a trouper through this whole ordeal, honestly.”

  She paused, thinking of the faded return address she’d spotted on the envelope, the one she’d resolved to go and visit once her business with the auction was complete. She’d only decided not to tell Tom about it before because he’d seemed to be at the end of his patience. Now would be the perfect time to reveal what she was planning on doing. But instead, she held her tongue. Breaking such important news to her fiancé while he was covered in silver paint and dressed as a robot seemed inappropriate. Besides, she didn’t want to give him any cause to worry. One night of fun with their loved ones was the least they both deserved.

  “Shall we?” Lacey said, looking over at the thick velvet curtain.

  “Ladies first,” Tom said, clearly just as nervous as Lacey about what might be waiting on the other side.

  Lacey smirked. “Actually, I think the etiquette is robots first, then ladies.”

  Tom chuckled. “How about we go at the same time?”

  He held his hand up to her. Lacey took it, threading her fingers through his. Side by side, they passed through the curtain.

  Once on the other side, Lacey immediately relaxed. There were no tarantulas dangling from the ceiling, no jack-in-the-boxes bouncing out at her. Instead, the hallway had been elegantly decorated. Far from the gaudiness Taryn had been prophesying about earlier, the party at the Lodge seemed like the classiest event in town.

  Standing on the staircase were a string quartet, playing haunting tunes. Inside the dining room, a long banquet table was covered in buffet foods, with red candles in gold candelabras.

  “Suzy has quite a flair for party planning,” Tom said.

  Lacey nodded. Her young friend had really outdone herself this time.

  The couple found the rest of their group in the Drawing Room. Gina and Finnbar were busy attaching posters for the auction to the walls, while Emmanuel was standing by the bar waiting to be served. Lacey had already decided she wasn’t going to drink tonight, because she had a busy day awaiting her tomorrow with the auction, but how she wished she didn’t when she saw the inventively named cocktails available—from the Diabolical Daiquiri, to the Murderous Martini, and a Rum Punch in the Face.