The girl had a thick red braid down one shoulder and wore thick black-rimmed glasses, skinny jeans, and a pair of black Converse sneakers. Several other girls in their early twenties followed closely behind her.
“Gwynnie, I want to introduce you to my granddaughter!” shouted Phyllis above the music.
17
Phyllis shoved the young woman in front of Gwyn and Sergeant Bradshaw. “Gwyn, this is Mercy, Linda’s girl. She and her friends go to the Institute.”
Gwyn’s eyes widened, and as heat tinged her face a crimson red, she once again felt self-conscious. Though Sergeant Bradshaw hadn’t kissed her, she still felt awkward, like she’d just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Trying to shake it off, she turned from him, hoping the cover of the night hid her flushed cheeks. She smiled at Phyllis’s granddaughter. She held her hand out to shake the young woman’s hand. “Oh, how lovely! It’s nice to meet you, Mercy. I’m Gwyn Prescott. I went to college with your grandmother.”
Mercy gave her a tight smile and shook her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Gwyn. Gran hasn’t told me much about her days in college.” She cast her grandmother a sideways glance.
“Oh, the stories I could tell you about your grandmother,” said Gwyn with a smile. She looked up at Sergeant Bradshaw, who stood less than a half an inch behind her. She could feel the warmth emanating off his body, and it sent a thrill zipping through to every cell in her body. He had a wide smile on his face.
Gwyn cleared her throat. “Oh, I’m sorry. Mercy, this is Sergeant Bradshaw.”
Mercy smiled from ear to ear. “Sergeant Bradshaw! How are you? Funny to see you here, too. We just ran into Elena a little while ago.”
“Good to see you, too, Mercy. Girls,” he said and nodded towards the rest of the girls who stood unintroduced behind Phyllis. “Yes, Elena ditched me to go hang out with some old friends.” Then he looked down at Gwyn and gave her an almost unnoticeable wink. “But I don’t mind. I bumped into some friends of my own.”
Gwyn felt the air leave her lungs. Was that just a flirt? Had Sergeant Bradshaw just flirted with her in front of Phyllis and all these young women? She lifted her eyebrows and turned to face Phyllis, who cocked her head sideways. Gwyn could see the lightbulb turning on in her friend’s brain. Phyllis had just realized what she’d interrupted.
“I see that,” said Mercy with a knowing grin. “How do you two know each other?” She moved her finger in the air, pointing at both Gwyn and Sergeant Bradshaw.
Sergeant Bradshaw looked down at Gwyn again. “We met at coffee a few days ago. She was with your grandmother.”
“I see,” said Mercy. “My Gran the matchmaker!”
Gwyn wanted to crawl into a hole and die. “You know, Mercy, I could tell you some stories about your grandmother,” said Gwyn in an attempt at changing the subject. “She was quite the wild child in those days.”
Mercy lifted her eyebrows as she pushed her glasses further up on her nose. “Oh, were you, Gran?” She looked at Gwyn. “Please, do tell!”
Phyllis waved a hand in front of her face, the flesh below her arms wobbling. “Oh, this isn’t the time nor the place for that. Mercy, don’t be rude. Introduce the girls to Gwyn.”
Mercy stepped aside and pulled a small girl with a big black witch’s hat, striped purple leggings, and exposed, tightly defined abs in front of her. The girl looked younger than the rest and quite innocent. “This is my roommate, Jax.”
The tiny little thing curtseyed in front of Gwyn. Gwyn couldn’t recall a time anyone had actually curtseyed at her. She suddenly felt like the Queen of England or something. She put a hand to her mouth to cover up her delight.
“Hello,” chirped Jax. “It’s so nice to meet one of Gran’s friends!”
Mercy’s friends called Phyllis Gran also? Gwyn looked at Phyllis curiously but bit her tongue.
“And this is Holly,” said Mercy, gesturing towards a voluptuous blonde with a low-cut shirt and a pair of short shorts that barely covered the underside of her bottom.
“Hello,” said Holly with a little wave as she flipped a curled wave of hair off of her shoulder.
Gwyn nodded back at her. “It’s nice to meet you both.”
Mercy pointed at the next girl. She was the tallest of the group. She had short brown hair and a dark, flawless complexion. “This is Alba.”
“Hey,” she said barely lifting her chin towards Gwyn.
“Hello, Alba.”
“And this is Sweets,” finished Mercy, pointing to a girl with chubby cheeks and a dimpled smile. “She just took over the bakery.”
“The bakery?” asked Gwyn.
“Yeah, Bailey’s Bakery & Sweets. She works for Char and Vic,” she explained, tilting her head towards the Char and her dog, who were still with the senior group.
“Oh! I see. It’s nice to meet you, Sweets, and the rest of you. I’m Gwyn Prescott, and that’s my mother over there, sitting on that bench talking to that, uh-hum, man,” she stuttered. “Her name is Hazel Prescott. We just moved back to Aspen Falls.”
“Where did you move here from?” asked Jax.
“Arizona. Scottsdale. It’s quite nice moving back to Aspen Falls. I just realized how much I’ve missed it.”
“My grandmother recently moved back too,” said Jax.
“Oh, how lovely,” said Gwyn, wondering if she’d ever met Jax’s grandmother. “What’s her—” she began but was cut off by the sound of the band starting up a new song, her voice drowned out by the heavy beat of the bass.
“Jax, we should go,” Mercy hollered over the music. “I told Mom we’d stop in and see her. It was nice to meet you, Gwyn. Bye, Gran. Are you coming to the B&B for dinner on Sunday?”
“Yes, I think I will,” said Phyllis, giving her granddaughter a prize-winning smile.
Mercy gave her grandmother a quick hug and then dashed off with her girlfriends.
“They’re so young and spry,” Gwyn hollered to Phyllis over the sound of the music.
“Oh, don’t I know it. They’re always off doing this spell or that magic and getting themselves twisted up into one mystery or crazy caper or another.”
A wistful smile spread across Gwyn’s face. “I really miss doing magic. I’ve let it go over the years.”
Phyllis puffed air out her nose. “Ha. I don’t miss it at all. I think I’m getting too old for that.”
Sergeant Bradshaw chuckled behind them and startled Gwyn. She’d almost forgotten that he was still standing there. “You aren’t too old, Phyllis. Hardly.”
Gwyn looked uncomfortably back at her group. She’d had a lovely time with the man, but it was time she got back to work. She looked up at him, but before she could speak, he put a finger to her lips.
“I know. You have to get back to work,” he said with a brilliant smile. “Thank you for the dance.”
Gwyn’s heart lightened. “It was exactly what I needed tonight. Thank you.”
“Phyllis, it was good to see you as always,” he said, tipping his head to her.
“You too, Henry,” she said with a little chuckle. When he’d gone, Phyllis leaned into Gwyn. “What was that all about?”
Gwyn let out a deep breath. She was too giddy to want to talk about it just yet. Instead of sharing, she just offered her friend a tight smile. “Nothing!” she sang.
“Nothing my fat ass,” she said. “That was a whole lotta something. I felt the sparks. They were there.”
Gwyn wanted to giggle and act like a schoolgirl who’d just gotten her first kiss, but she didn’t. She put a straight face on and lifted a brow. “It was nothing, Phyllis. Come on. It looks like Char and her dog made a new friend.” Gwyn tilted her head towards the senior group.
The music changed, and the band began to play a softer song, making it a little easier to hear. Gwyn and Phyllis returned to the group to find Char chatting with a man in his mid- to late fifties with exceedingly dark hair and matching eyes.
“Girls, meet Boomer Wallace. I recognized him from the mee
ting they were having this morning at Habernackle’s. It was the Aspen Falls Master Gardeners’ Club. Boomer is the president and a friend of Kat’s.”
Phyllis narrowed her eyes. “He was a friend of Kat’s? Funny, I didn’t see him at the funeral,” she said pointedly.
Gwyn elbowed Phyllis and whispered at her. “I wasn’t at the funeral either, but I was a friend of Kat’s.”
Phyllis ignored Gwyn and stared at Boomer. It was clear she wanted answers.
His mouth smiled, but his eyes did not. “We weren’t very close, actually.”
“After all those years of putting on gardening shows, and you weren’t that close?” asked Char.
“She was a member of a club I belonged to, but we didn’t socialize outside of the club. Kat preferred to keep to herself after meetings.”
Char grimaced. “Well, you may like to know that Kat spoke very highly of you. She always told me how hard she had to work to keep up with you.”
He lifted one dark brow and showed the slightest sign of a smile. “Indeed. I had to work hard in order to keep up with her.”
“Friendly competition?” asked Gwyn. Something about the man wasn’t sitting right with her. Something about his aura was dark and gave her the creeps.
“Something like that,” he purred. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get back to my wife. Have a nice evening.”
Phyllis gave him a little fake wave. “Friendly fellow,” she said when he’d disappeared.
“Yeah. Something about him rubs me the wrong way,” Gwyn retorted, crossing her arms across her chest.
“Ooh, did I miss something good? Who’s been rubbing my Gwynnie?” asked Hazel from behind her.
The women turned to see both Hazel and Loni standing behind them.
“We just met an acquaintance of Kat’s. He had a bit of a personality disorder if you ask me,” explained Phyllis.
Gwyn sighed and looked at Loni. It was nice knowing that Loni had finally gotten out of the house. Gwyn only wished that the woman would feel like taking off the costume. “Having fun, Loni?”
Loni looked around, wide-eyed. “It feels weird being out of the house. I feel like everyone’s staring at me.”
“That’s because you’re wearing a George Hamilton mask. You look a little ridiculous,” said Phyllis.
Gwyn blanched. “Loni, why don’t you just dress normally?”
“And have them find me? No way, Jose!”
“No one’s looking for you, Lon. It’s all in your imagination,” sighed Char.
“That’s what you think.”
“Loni, Kat wouldn’t have liked you having to hide like this. Take off the mask, for Kat,” begged Gwyn.
Loni harrumphed. “Kat got me.” She poked herself in the chest. “She’d understand.”
Char ran a hand over her bare shoulders. “Girls, speaking of Kat, I’ve meant to talk to you all. I’ve got her ashes at the house, and we need to do something with them.”
Gwyn looked at Char with surprise. “You’ve got Kat’s ashes? She was cremated? I didn’t know that.”
“It was what she wanted,” shrugged Char.
Gwyn felt a lump form in her throat. Hearing that Kat had been cremated was yet another reminder that her dear friend Kat was gone. They’d never see her again. Despite the fact that she’d kept Gwyn and the rest of the girls apart for all of those years, the anger in her heart didn’t compare to the love she had for her friend. A cool gust of wind zipped through the crowd and made the skin on Gwyn’s arms pebble. “We should do it tonight,” she said. Something told her it was the right time.
“Tonight?” whined Hazel. “Gwynnie, it’s already getting late.”
“It won’t take long,” said Gwyn firmly. She didn’t know why, but something had spoken to her. Something told her that they had to do it after the festival.
They all looked at Loni. Loni shrugged. “I’m already out of the house, might as well.”
Phyllis nodded. “Hell, I have nothing else to do. I’m in.”
Char glanced down at her dog. It almost looked like he opened his mouth to say something, but then thought better of it and just nodded his head instead. Char looked up at the group. “I’ll just drop Vic off at home, and then I’ll be over.”
Gwyn turned her head slightly. “Did your dog just nod at you?”
Char gave a nervous laugh and then cleared her throat. “He’s got a nervous tic.”
Gwyn smiled as unshed tears shone in her eyes. “Alright, then, tonight’s the night we say our goodbyes to our friend.”
18
Crickets sang against an inky-black backdrop by the time Gwyn got the residents settled back into The Village. It had been a such a lovely evening, and Gwyn felt good that she’d gotten out and had a little fun in her new town, but she felt strangely ambivalent about the rest of the evening ahead as they pulled into Kat’s driveway and parked behind Char’s car.
“Why do we have to do this tonight, Gwynnie?” asked Hazel, hefting the car door open with a mighty shove. “I’m pooped.”
Gwyn sat in the driver’s seat for a long moment as she slowly shook her head. She didn’t know how to describe it. It was just a feeling she had. Something was telling her that they needed to put Kat’s ashes to rest immediately. She shrugged her shoulders and looked over at her mother, unsure of how to explain it. “I don’t know, Mom. I just have this feeling. It has to be tonight.”
Hazel stopped moving and looked back at her daughter.
“What?” asked Gwyn even though she knew full well what her mother was doing. She was trying to weasel her way inside Gwyn’s mind.
Hazel shook her head and then reached across the car and patted her daughter’s hand. “Nothing,” she said quietly. “Come on. Let’s go.”
Gwyn walked around to the other side of the car and helped her mother out. Together they walked up the sidewalk.
The lights in Kat’s house were on, and the front door was swung wide open, casting a dull glow across the porch and down the stairs. Gwyn held her mother’s elbow as they walked up the white-painted wood steps. She pulled open the screen door and let her mother go in first. The wood door made a sharp smack as it slammed against the wood frame behind them. Gwyn’s nose picked up the fresh scent of mango almost immediately. “We’re here,” she called out as she shut the heavier door behind them.
“Come in. I’m in the kitchen,” hollered Phyllis from another room.
The gentle sound of a radio playing a familiar song filled the empty spaces around her. Gwyn wiped her shoes on the mat and followed her nose. “It smells so good in here! What’s that smell?”
“Char’s daughter-in-law sells those Scentsy bars. She brought in a few warmers the other day and got them going. That rotten chicken smell was just too much for her,” explained Phyllis.
Gwyn grabbed the wax container from the counter. “Ooh, Cranberry Mango.” She looked at her mother. “Mom, remind me to have Char order us some for our apartment. We could use a good candle. It smells like someone died in there.”
“They probably did. I told you it was like a funeral home,” snapped Hazel as she pulled a chair out from the kitchen table with the base of her cane.
While she got comfortable at the table, Gwyn looked around the room. “Oh, goodness, is that what I think it is?” she asked, pointing to a brass urn on a doily in the center of the table.
“Yup, that’s Kat,” said Phyllis matter-of-factly.
Gwyn’s face fell as she felt her heart lurch in her chest. It was all that was left of her old friend. She bit her lip to keep from crying. “Poor Kat,” she murmured. “You have no idea how much I’ll miss you.”
“We’ll all miss her,” agreed Phyllis. “It’ll be nice to put her to rest tonight and settle her spirit.”
“Where are Char and Loni?”
“They’re outside. Char’s keeping Loni company.”
“Why’s Loni outside?”
“She’s having a cigar,” said Phyllis as she
padded around the kitchen. “Did you know she smoked cigars?”
Gwyn pulled a chair out next to her mother. “Yeah, she tried to smoke one the other day when we were over at her house. I didn’t think it was such a good idea to have her smoking around Mom.”
Hazel pursed her lips. “Don’t blame it on me again. You just didn’t want to smell the smoke.”
“I knew you knew that,” said Gwyn with a knowing smile. “You just let me blame it on you because you didn’t want to smell it either.”
Hazel rolled her eyes and pressed her lips between her teeth, but remained silent.
Phyllis opened a cupboard and peered inside. “Char told her she had to take it outside but said she’d keep her company out there.”
“Well, why aren’t you out there with them?” asked Gwyn, sitting down next to her mother.
“I wanted to make something to eat. That walk worked up an appetite. I’m starving.”
Gwyn stood up and rubbed her stomach. “Ooh, does Kat have anything in her fridge? I could eat something too.”
“I was just starting to look when you walked in the door,” she said.
Together, the two women rummaged through Kat’s cupboards in search of snack foods. Phyllis pulled a box of crackers from one cupboard. “She’s got Ritz crackers.”
“Oh, hand me a roll of those,” said Hazel, holding out a hand to Phyllis. “Those French fries at dinner didn’t fill me up.”
Gwyn looked back at her mother with one eye cocked up. “Well, if you’d eat more than French fries, you might get filled up. Miss Georgia made an amazing Swiss steak for supper. I don’t know why you wouldn’t just eat it.”
Phyllis opened the box and handed Hazel a sleeve of the round crackers.
“That steak smelled funny.” Hazel’s hands shook as she worked to unwrap the plastic wrapper.
“It didn’t smell funny, Mom.”
“I think those tomatoes she used had botulism in them.”
Gwyn glanced up at Phyllis who shot her a crooked smile. “If they had botulism, I’d be almost dead right now.”
Hazel stuffed a Ritz cracker in her mouth. “Would you like real flowers or fake flowers on your grave?” she asked through a mouthful of crackers. Crumbs trickled down the front of her shirt and settled into the creases.
That Old Witch!: The Coffee Coven's Cozy Capers: Book 1 Page 14
