Whispering Pines Mysteries Box Set 3
Page 40
In addition to the reverent yet cozy atmosphere, there was something strangely comforting about the Whispering Pines witches all gathered together in their robes. It took me a minute to identify it, but I think it was the inclusivity factor. That was true of everyone in the village, but this group took it even further. They congregated with the single purpose of professing their beliefs around others with the same mindset. There was power in this kind of communing and not in just the witchy way. I guess this was true of any religion.
“I understand we need to have a talk.”
I turned to find April O’Connor, in a deep hunter-green robe, at my side. Right now she seemed nervous. After seeing the look of rage on her face as she confronted Suzette Thibodeaux at the Midwinter Celebration last night, she was at the top of my suspect list. She should be nervous.
“We do need to talk,” I agreed. “Not tonight, though.”
“I didn’t mean tonight,” she snapped, and her eyes went wide. Being rude to a law enforcement officer, especially one who wanted to discuss a possible murder, wasn’t the greatest idea. She bowed her head slightly. “I apologize. It’s been an emotional few weeks.”
“How about I come over to your house tomorrow. Let’s say ten o’clock?”
She looked up, as though evaluating a calendar imprinted on her brain. “Noon would be better.”
Interesting. First, she approaches me about an interview she clearly knows I want to have and then tries to dictate the details around that interview. April O’Connor liked to call the shots. I let her attitude go. For now. “That’s fine. Enjoy your ritual.”
Confused by my tone, that of a placating mother encouraging her child to go have fun on the playground, she turned slowly and went back to the group.
Morgan came up to me next. “The coven is a little skittish about you being here, but I’ve convinced them you’re thinking of joining us. Well, I convinced some of them. Laurel and Reeva aren’t buying the excuse but are letting it go. Honey and Flavia want to know what you’re up to.”
“They’ll learn the truth soon enough,” I said.
“You know you won’t be permitted to join in the ritual. I encourage you to have your own private one, however. A soul-cleansing is always a good thing.” She tapped my forehead and then the center of my chest over my heart before handing me a small white votive candle and a clear glass disk holder. “We’ll be using white tapers. You may use this if you’d like, but you won’t be able to light it from ours.”
So close yet still so far away.
“It’s okay, Morgan. I’m not a coven member and don’t expect to be treated as one. How long until you begin? I’d like to step outside and make sure the guys are all set.”
She glanced at the old-fashioned three-sided train depot clock hanging in the doorway between the kitchen and the dining area. “You have five minutes. A little more but not ten.”
“I’ll be right back.”
I went through the door at the back of the dining room. When the weather warmed up, Reeva planned to turn this into a small classroom for grilling instruction. People would also be permitted to use the area for eating lunch or afternoon tea. Currently, the only thing out there was a large round wooden table cleared of snow and covered in a rainbow of colorful stones. A communal crystal charging station beneath the full moon.
Reed, River, Jagger, and Emery, all wearing multiple layers of winter gear, met me there.
“I’m sorry to make you guys do this. It’s so cold.”
River shook his head and held up a hand. “Do not concern yourself with that. If your father’s, or any other villager’s, safety is at stake, the weather is not important.”
“We’ve formulated a plan of attack,” Jagger informed in his serious, military way. Emery nodded.
“It’s simple, really,” Reed explained. “We’re going to pace the perimeter of the shop. At first, we were thinking we would each take a position on a side of the building, but marching will make it obvious that we’re on the lookout for trouble.”
“And moving will help keep us warm,” Emery added.
“Sounds like a good plan,” I told them. “I can’t help but think, now that you’re all in place, that this might be overkill. Making sure someone is always with Dad might be enough.”
“Jayne,” River began, “if you are correct and Page is in the village, he’ll know your father is here tonight. Morgan feels he has issues with all of the Pack members, not only your father.”
My vision tunneled as that statement sunk in. It was so obvious. This had likely been Donovan’s plan all along. He’d probably been biding his time for the last five months, waiting for them to all be together again so he could enact his revenge. I mentally ticked off the list: Dad, Briar, Laurel, Reeva, Honey, and Sugar. Seven potential targets. Flavia was in cahoots with him so was safe.
“At this point,” I said, mostly to myself, “he’s only given a harlequin to my dad.”
“As far as you are aware,” River amended. “Perhaps he has delivered some to the others and they haven’t mentioned anything because they don’t understand the significance.”
Good point. “All of the Pack members were at the Midwinter Celebration. In fact, they were all in the corner by the fireplace together for most of the night. Why didn’t he do something there?”
Tripp’s words from earlier answered the question before any of the guys could. I think he’s messing more with you than your dad. I started shivering, but it had nothing to do with the cold.
“What are you thinking?” Reed asked.
“I’m thinking we need to find out if the others have received dolls. But we need to do it in a way that won’t cause a panic.”
“Lady Briar has not received one,” River confirmed.
“Mother wouldn’t get one,” Reed stated. “Would she?”
The mix of emotions was clear on his face. He didn’t want his mother to be threatened, but not being on Donovan’s Christmas list meant Flavia was probably working with him, and, therefore, guilty of aiding and abetting.
“No, she likely won’t get one,” I agreed without elaborating. “I can ask Laurel flat out. She won’t panic, but she might get really angry.”
Reed chuckled a little at that thought. “I’ll ask Aunt Reeva in a way that won’t raise any alarms.”
“That leaves Honey and Sugar.” I couldn’t think of a single way to keep the two of them calm. Sugar, for sure, would pop a cork, and that would set off Honey. “We won’t worry about them yet. If the others have gotten dolls, we know we’ve got a problem. If not, no sense saying anything to them.”
River nodded. “A fine plan, Proprietress.”
“Sheriff?” Emery’s voice broke. “What’s going on? What dolls?”
I forgot. Emery and Jagger had no clue what we were talking about. They simply showed up tonight because they were asked to.
“I’ll explain it to them once you’re back inside,” Reed said.
“Thanks.” An uneasy feeling filled me. “What if I’m simply playing into Donovan’s hands? From the start, it’s like he’s been one step ahead.”
River placed a hand on my shoulder, instantly centering me. “I don’t doubt that he’s trying to get into your head and make you question yourself. In this instance, you are ahead of him because you know this. Trust your instincts, Jayne.”
“Trust my instincts.” I closed my eyes as I inhaled, checked in with my gut as I held the breath, and then exhaled. My gut told me to be cautious, to not take any chances. “Donovan has been on the run for five months. That’s a lot of time to formulate a plan for revenge. A group attack or a systematic attack on the individual members could very well be what he’s up to.”
“Come to the Barlow cottage after the ritual,” River requested.
“Time to rally the troops?” I asked.
He nodded. “I’ll inform Morgan and Lady Briar. Keeping someone in the dark is never a good idea. You need to tell your father about your concerns,
and you may need reinforcements getting him on board with this.”
“When I talk to Aunt Reeva,” Reed said, “I’ll explain everything to her. You know she’ll do whatever we need her to.”
I immediately pictured her standing in front of that big fireplace inside preparing a potion of some kind in her cauldron.
“All right. Not sure I feel better, but having a plan is always a good thing.” I turned to go back inside, then over my shoulder added, “Stay safe out here.”
They assured me they would, and I rejoined the witches. They had started to gather around the table, so I stood in the doorway between the kitchen and the dining room to watch.
Briar rushed to my side. “No, my dear, not here.”
“Why not? Where should I go?”
“Hovering in doorways will result in you becoming stuck. You must choose a path, one way or another.”
Choose a path. Don’t hover. Got it. I pointed behind me at the table closest to the door. “I’ll sit there.”
“That will be fine. Morgan gave you a candle?”
I held up the little votive.
“Concentrate on the negative things you’d like to release from your life. Think of the blessing that is your family.” She handed me a box of matches that looked like a small version of the sign hanging outside the shop. Hearth & Cauldron’s website was on the back. Something about that made me smile. “When we light our candles, you light yours.”
She went back to her coven. Briar had been making her way around the table with a silver tray of eight-inch-tall white taper candles when she came to rescue me from the doorway. She continued with her task, pausing next to each witch so they could choose a candle and then returned to her spot at the table next to her daughter. Dad stood to Briar’s right.
Morgan, resplendent in her black high priestess robes and abundance of silver jewelry, stood at the center of the table across from the three-wick candle and placed her palms together. After a quick glance at me and a slight bow of her head, she began the ritual.
“Blessed be, all.” She plucked a holly sprig from the wreath. “Holly represents the waning season of winter, which is the time for the earth and us to rest and restore.” She replaced the sprig and took one of the dried sunflowers. “The sunflower represents the sun and the coming season of spring when light will return and allow life to flourish.” She replaced the flower. “Tonight, beneath the watchful Oak Moon above us, we will welcome the returning fertile season by thinking of family and releasing any negativity we’ve been holding on to.”
The witches all clutched their candles with both hands. I cupped my votive in my palms.
In a soothing, meditative voice, Morgan stated, “Bring to mind all of the negative energy you wish to release. Imagine that energy flowing through your hands and fusing with the wax of the candle where it will remain trapped. When you’re ready, place your candle in the silver holder before you.”
The only sound in the shop was the crackling of the fire in the fireplace and the inhales and exhales of the coven members’ deep breathing. Honey was the first to place her candle in the holder. When she was sure it was secure, she placed her hands with fingers splayed wide on the table, gazed at the large candle centered in the wreath, and chanted silently to herself. Dad was next. His expression had turned serene, the lines on his face from the sun suddenly smoothed by community and the amber glow of the candles. He looked years younger, like the daddy I remembered before Gran revealed his secret. Like Honey’s, his lips moved in silent prayer. What was he saying? Was he thinking about me or Rosalyn? Mom?
What negativity did I want to release? My personal life was feeling pretty good. Tripp and I were solid. Rozzie and I were good too. Dad and I were getting better, but there were things I wanted to talk to him about while he was here. There were the issues between Mom and me. Jonah was still on the list I’d made during Samhain. I thought of my negative feelings surrounding Mom and Jonah turning to smoke, flowing through my hands, and into the candle. Same with Donovan. And Flavia. I thought of the village’s deep wounds. This was a ritual for family, and every villager had come to be like a family member to me. Before I opened my eyes, Gran popped into my mind. I wanted to push her away, but if I was being honest, I had feelings of hurt, betrayal, and disappointment surrounding her. I let her float into the candle, too, and then opened my eyes. I placed the votive on the glass disk and returned to observing the coven.
Flavia was the final member to place her candle in its holder and her hands on the table. Morgan waited a few minutes and then softly said, “Now for the lighting.” She lit her taper from the large candle and held her taper to Briar so she could light hers. Briar lit Dad’s, Dad lit Laurel’s, and so on around the table.
I felt very left out. I wanted one of them to reach their candle out to mine but understood why they wouldn’t. I wasn’t part of the coven. Instead, I took a matchstick from the box and ran it over the sandpaper edge. The hiss of the resulting flame seemed to fill the room, but the witches, focused on their ritual, didn’t seem to notice.
When all of the tapers, and my votive, were flickering, Morgan raised her arms high in the air in a V with palms turned to the side. The others did the same and placed their palms against their neighbors’, joining all the witches together.
“As your candle burns,” Morgan intoned, “your negative thoughts will be extinguished.”
Were they going to stand there and watch their candles burn to the holders? At approximately an inch per hour, I understood why the gatherings took so long. After ten minutes, however, Morgan instructed them to extinguish their tapers by pinching out the flames with their fingers, not by blowing the flame out.
“The pinch traps the negativity inside the candle,” she explained. “When you get home, relight it and allow it to burn to the end. Also, take a small handful of sunflower seeds with you. Reeva has graciously provided little pots on a table in her retail room. Fill a pot with soil from the cauldron there, poke your seeds into the soil, and nurture them with loving intent over the upcoming months. Plant them next to your front door in the spring to welcome sunlight into your homes and lasting relationships into your life.”
She glanced at me and smiled. I returned it with a nod of my head.
That explained the sunflowers all over the village. I’d noticed them outside dozens of cottages while on patrol over the summer. I figured the villagers really had a thing for sunflowers.
The witches reached toward their candles, ready to pinch them out, when a gasp rose from the group. Flavia’s candle had gone out before she could pinch it, the smoke rising into the air and gathering in the ceiling’s tall peak.
“You did it.” Flavia pointed at her sister.
“Me?” Reeva laughed. “From across the table? I don’t think so. I’m sure you intended to release your negative intent into my shop all along.”
“Ladies,” Morgan’s voice rose. Not a lot, but enough that everyone stopped and stared. “Stop this immediately. I will not allow this coven to be tarnished by your ill will for each other.”
They both bowed their heads, duly chastised by their high priestess.
“Part of the significance of tonight’s full moon,” Morgan continued, “is to focus on the blessing that is family.” She smiled softly at Briar. Dad glanced at me. “Family doesn’t always get along, and there is nothing wrong with an occasional disagreement. But turning on each other, abandoning the bonds formed by blood or choice, is not acceptable. You two broke your bond long ago, and like marrow from a bone, that break has leaked a poison into this community. Is this really what you want? To infest those around you with animosity?”
Briar touched the tips of her fingers to Morgan’s upper arm. A signal, apparently, to let it go. Morgan stopped talking, placed her palms together, and lowered her head.
Holy cats. I couldn’t remember ever witnessing a more spot-on scolding. And I’d grown up with Georgia O’Shea for a mother.
A minute later,
Morgan raised her head again. “This coven is convened. You may, of course, return to your homes now or stay here for a while. Reeva has prepared tea and cookies for us. Blessed be.”
As the witches began to mill about, I licked my fingers and pinched out my votive. Then I went straight over to Laurel.
“Do you have a minute?” I asked her.
She leveled a look on me that said she knew something was up. “What’s wrong?”
I was going to pull her into the retail side of Hearth & Cauldron, but the witches were planting sunflower seeds there. Instead, I took her into the dining room and told her about the harlequin and what we were afraid of. The only way I could tell the gravity of this was registering with her was that her expression had frozen in place.
She shook her head. “No, I haven’t received any packages. Not that I’m not worried for everyone else, but do you really think he could have an issue with me? I wasn’t there the night Priscilla died. I’d stopped hanging out with that group weeks before.”
“I think we can’t be certain he knows all the facts. He probably knows who his mother used to hang out with. Past that, we can’t make assumptions. Is someone working the front desk tonight?”
Flustered now, it took her a moment to come up with, “Gardenia. Since we’re so slow, Emery has a few days off.”
I would prefer he be there with her. Even though Meeka almost weighed more than Emery, he had crazy martial arts skills so was a good bodyguard.
“She’s there alone now.” Laurel’s voice had raised in pitch. “I should get over there.”
Honey had Sugar. Briar had Morgan. Reed lived across Reeva’s backyard. Dad had me, Tripp, and Rosalyn. Laurel was by herself. I didn’t like it.
“Emery and Jagger are outside patrolling the property with River and Reed. I want you to have them walk with you. I’m going over to Morgan’s with my dad so we can think this through a little more. Since you don’t have any guests tonight, do me a favor and lock up. Having Emery or Jagger stay with you would be best, but keep your walkie talkie with you either way. Call me or Deputy Reed if there’s trouble. I’m not trying to scare you—”