The man kept walking, ignoring my feeble attempt to stop him. I jogged to catch up, cursing beneath my breath before I got in front of him, stopping him with my hand and swiping back loose hair that had wrangled free from my bun. “You don’t need to walk. The bus will take you to the resort.”
“I’m not going to the resort,” he answered, taking his time letting his gaze linger down my body. His lips twisted into a smile at my neon-painted toenails before he lifted his gaze, giving me a glimpse of his dimples and stunning green eyes.
“If you aren’t a guest, who are you here to see?”
“That’s need to know, and you don’t qualify.” The stranger shifted his bag higher on his shoulder.
I narrowed my eyes and glanced over my shoulder in the direction he was headed. A road that in two miles would dead end. The stranger would be met with nothing but the lush forest, away from any civilization until the hotel took out a tour group scheduled in the morning. A smile split my lips as I turned around. “Far be it from me to stop you.” I stepped out of his way and swept my hand for him to proceed. “Enjoy your walk.”
He lifted a hand to my face, and I leaned back.
“You look like a clown.” He swiped his thumb against my cheek and held it for me to see. A smudge of my fire-engine red lipstick covered his digit.
Why did he have to go and be nice? I was content to let him sweat in the heat until he found his way or until the monkeys found him. They were a nasty bunch when teasing their prey. “If you keep going that way, it’s going to dead end in two miles. If you’re looking for town, you need to go in the opposite direction.”
His gaze lifted over my head focusing down the road. “You were just going to let me find out the hard way?”
“It was need to know, and you didn’t qualify,” I said, stepping around him and heading back to my golf cart.
The bus pulled out in a plume of smoke, and I found my father behind the wheel of the golf cart, watching me as I slid onto the seat and grabbed the bar for dear life. My dad drove like an adrenaline junkie high on too much caffeine.
“Who was that?”
I shrugged as my dad hit the gas and pulled away. I tightened my hold on the rail so I didn’t go airborne with each bump. “Don’t know and he wouldn’t say. He must be visiting someone in town.”
The island had a town of transplanted locals. Most were employees that worked at the hotel and their families, some had vacationed and decided to stay, but the one thing they’d all needed was a nod of approval from dear old dad. Each resident was vetted for what they could contribute to the success of the island, and they needed to be deemed worthy.
Other than that, it functioned like a normal small city on the mainland, complete with police, shops, restaurants, and town council people who handled the everyday decisions and complaints. We had the best of everything, and Dad had planned it that way. The shops sold only the best international fare, and the eclectic food from different countries was beyond comparison and satisfied any food hankering. No normal person would ever want to leave; but then again, I wasn’t normal.
Red and yellow balls of light hovered over the ground in front of us. An irrational fear climbed my spine. This wasn’t happening. I hadn’t seen the death omen in three months, not since Old Man Weathers had passed away. I grabbed Dad’s arm and squeezed.
“Dad.” His name was a whisper, but my frightened tone was enough for him to slow the buggy to a stop.
“What is it?” he asked, scanning the surroundings as if he himself should have sensed something amiss.
I swallowed against the lump in my throat and licked my lips. “The flicker is back.”
That was what I’d called it as a kid because it reminded me of a dancing candle flame encased in an energetic ball of light. I now knew it better. It was like a gas that rose from the ground, and seeing it meant someone was about to die.
“Is anyone sick on the island?” I asked as he stepped on the gas again, running the cart through the balls of energy he couldn’t see.
“Not that I know of,” he answered, glancing at me. “And I know everything.”
If that were true, it left me questioning why he hadn’t canceled the Halliwells’ reservations himself. Unless he knew it was one way to keep me on the island. I wouldn’t put it past my old man. He was kind of crafty like that.
Chapter 3
Dad not being in the know that death was near had him dropping me off at the entrance and stealing my cart to head into town. I got everyone settled into their rooms before sticking my head into the security office to find Watson kicked back with his feet on the desk reading a comic book instead of watching the security monitors.
“If you get a minute from finding out if Wolverine saves the day, you might want to keep an eye on the monitors and check your record settings.”
He glanced over his shoulder. “Why? You afraid someone is going to skinny dip in the pools?”
Watson didn’t take much serious. Nothing ever really happened at the resort that he couldn’t handle just judging by his look. He was intimidating, all six feet five of tanned muscles, but I knew better. I should. He was my brother’s best friend, and the two had a track record of being troublemakers.
“I’m saving you a reprimand. I saw the omen. It’s all hands on deck. Dad went into town to check on the residents, but I’m sure when he gets back, he’ll pop his head in here to make sure you’re not goofing off.”
Watson dropped his big boots to the floor. His fingers worked lightning fast over the keyboard until all the screens were up and being recorded.
I stole a licorice stick from his candy jar and bit off a piece, heading for the door.
“Hey, squirt,” he called out.
I pulled open the door and turned.
“Thanks for the heads-up and watch your back.” The humorous glint from his gaze was replaced with concern.
I grinned. “Why would I need to? I’ve got you to do that.” I winked and left.
Watson and I had this on-and-off flirtation thing going on. We’d been dancing around the idea of dating for years. The only thing that stopped us was our working arrangement, not to mention my protective brother. The thought of telling him curdled like sour milk in my stomach.
Probably something he’d serve me just to torture the two of us.
I stopped by the kitchen at the end of my shift. I didn’t make it a habit to eat with guests, but my brother fed me just the same. He always packed a to-go box for me to take back to my cabana.
Noah was in front of the stove. His normally white pristine apron was stained red, but thank God, not the blood variety.
“Busy day?” I asked, lifting one of the lids to take a peek inside the pot.
“Nothing I can’t handle,” he answered. My half-brother was from wife number 2. I’d liked her, but she couldn’t handle an isolated life and hightailed it off the island two years after saying her vows. Noah was the best younger brother any girl could ask for and not just because his cooking was to die for but because he had a big heart. “Are you cutting out early for the day to start your vacation?”
I sighed and pressed my lips into a pout.
“He didn’t,” Noah growled.
“He did.” I shrugged. “He’s mad the Halliwell clan is here. It appears I have babysitting duties until they leave.”
“One day I’m going to sneak you off the island, and when I do, don’t even look back. You deserve more than the crumbs this place gives you. You should be out exploring and living the dream.” He cut a slice of chocolate cake and added it to a Styrofoam container. “You’ll get extra cake for him screwing up your plans.”
“It’s okay; it’s probably better this way.” He stuffed in another container with his famous spaghetti. My absolute favorite.
He gave me a sideways glance. “Why is that?”
“I saw the flicker,” I whispered so that the other kitchen staff wouldn’t hear. The last thing I needed was to start a panic and indu
ce a heart attack or two.
His hand froze with a ladle of sauce. “You’re serious?”
I nodded. “I’d never kid about that.”
His brows dipped as he handed me dinner. “Maybe I should stay at your cabana tonight. I don’t like you living out there alone.”
“I’m never alone,” I answered. It was true. My cabana was frequented by ghosts every few days. It had become a way of life, my normal. I was okay with that. They kept me entertained and I never felt truly alone.
“I meant someone living should be with you,” he said, crowding me like a bully, as if looking deep into my eyes would make me see he was serious.
“Birdie is always home, and she lives thirty feet away. You know she’s warded that entire section of the beach. No one will get close enough without some type of wonky alarm going off. I’ll be fine. I’ll just pretend that I’m having a staycation.”
“In that case, you should take a bottle of wine or maybe an entire case.” He loaded me up with more goodies.
“This is the reason you’ll always be my favorite brother.”
“I’m your only brother.” He chuckled. “But I’ll remind you that you said that when your metabolism slows down.”
With an arm full of delicious goodness, I headed down the beach toward home, grabbing a coconut along the way. The coconut wasn’t for eating or drinking. No, I had a much more strategic use for that. As I neared Birdie’s cabana, I used the coconut to roll like a bowling ball down the white sandy beach, and it worked like a charm.
Mist appeared in the pattern of a purple checkerboard. If I stayed in the white zone, I was home free with no warning system going off, and that meant no unnecessary conversations with Birdie today.
Don’t get me wrong. Birdie is a crazy eccentric, and that was what made her fun. But with the omen, the last thing I needed was to start the unofficial gossip chain. That woman had a mouth as big as a great white shark and a bite just as strong if someone ever got on her wrong side.
I’d made it through the obstacle course and inside my house where I found my mom, Margo, hanging out, trying to read the newspaper I’d left open.
“What are you doing here?” Margo asked.
“Uh. I live here.” I answered, heading for the kitchen.
“Your trip?”
I sighed. How many more times would I need to explain my father’s attempt to keep me from leaving the island? “Canceled until the Halliwells leave.”
Margo abandoned her news and floated across the room, coming closer. “Those dreadful witches are here?”
“Afraid so.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “You remember what happened last time they showed up?”
“Not really. I think I was two.”
Margo shivered. “They did a séance and conjured an entity.”
“Cool.” I chuckled.
“Not cool.” She gasped. “It took a month for their magic to dissipate. I agree with your father. They need to go.”
I slid a fork from the drawer and waved it at her. “You’re welcome to go try to scare the beejezus out of them, although they didn’t strike me as the scaredy-cat kind.”
I grabbed the chocolate cake from my bag, making my mother scoff. “Dessert first, dear? I thought I taught you better than that.”
“If you don’t mind, you’re interfering with my pity party. I have a long night of binge-watching NCIS and eating myself into a chocolate coma, and if you must know, I’m following Gibbs’ rule number 5. You don’t waste good, and this German chocolate cake promises to be fabulous.” I slid my fork through the chocolate cake and slid a bite between my lips, earning a moan.
I’d fallen asleep some hours later when my eyes shot open as my chest bowed off the couch. A silvery mist floating above me held me suspended in mid-air before diving into my chest and knocking the wind from my lungs. I struggled to breathe until the last speck of mist entered my body, and then I dropped back to the couch with a thud. It was like nothing I’d ever experienced, a ghostly invasion of some sort. Had the Halliwells tried to conjure something new, or had my brother baked something into his cake?
I’d barely had time to think it might be the chocolate cake than my eyes grew heavy, and my lids slid closed. I fell back to sleep.
The cabana phone rang, jolting me awake. Cell service on the island was spotty at best. Only those that lived here long enough or asked the right person knew exactly where to be standing for a cell to work.
I slid off the couch and stumbled haphazardly across the floor, swallowing around the dryness in my throat.
“Hello?” My voice croaked as I squinted my eyes, peering out the blinds in the kitchen to see if the sun had even started to rise.
“You need to get down here,” Watson whispered into the phone.
“Why are you whispering, and what time is it?”
“It’s five in the morning, and I’m whispering because your dad demanded that word not get out yet. The omen struck.”
His words had every nerve in my body strung tight and me standing taller. “Who died?”
“The Halliwell matriarch; Vinette. This is bad, Tess, really bad.”
“Oh crapola,” I whispered. The last thing we needed was a clan full of pissed-off witches causing havoc at the hotel. “Natural causes?”
“I’m no coroner, but judging by all the blood and her charred clothes, I’d venture a guess that it was murder. Just get here quick. The police want the research you did from your guest list.”
Chapter 4
Murder on Venture? That was unheard of. Like literally. In my entire life, it had never happened on the island. Dying of old age, sure. Dying of an accident, rarely, but it wasn’t unheard of. But murder, never. I hurried to my bedroom and changed clothes getting ready for the day in record time.
I’d just glanced into the mirror before turning off the light when I paused. An icy chill skirted my spine. “What the hell?”
I pressed a finger against my cheek and pulled at my eye socket to see if maybe I’d blown a blood vessel and my blood had turned green. It was a long shot, but nothing could explain this. Leaning into the mirror for a better look, I saw my once vivid blue eyes were now bright green. I blinked in quick succession to see if they’d change back to no avail.
My cabana phone rang again, tearing me from the mystery, and I hurried out of the room, grabbing my keys from the countertop. I grabbed the phone. “I’m on my way.”
“Ms. Venture? My name is Mic—”
I sighed, not even waiting for him to get his name out. “Listen, whatever you’re selling, I already own three. I’ve already found Jesus, and I don’t read magazines. I’m more of a mystery sleuth. Speaking of which, if you’re just calling to tell me I’m still at the top of the sleuth leaderboard and my next monthly murder mystery box is free, then I know. I checked last night. If it’s anything else, I don’t have time to talk.”
“But—”
“Sorry, dude. If it’s important, call back later. I have an emergency, and I’ve got to run. Okay? Okay. Have a nice day.” I hung up and ran for the door and promptly turned back around to grab my sunglasses. No way could I explain the creep factor of my eyes.
I was running up the beach when Birdie opened her door. “You’re in a hurry. You set off the alarm.”
I waved my shoes in the air. “Sorry, no time to explain, I’m late.”
“Your dad should give you better hours. The sun hasn’t even risen,” she called out.
I gave her a thumbs-up without turning back around, only slowing when I turned the bend. The police chief and coroner were moving a body onto a gurney while the mystery man from yesterday watched nearby. Blood had discolored the indentation in the sand from where the body had laid. Next to it in the same discoloration a symbol was drawn into the once pristine white sands. I covered my mouth with my hand to hide my shock.
“It’s true.” I must have said it louder than I’d thought for everyone to turn and look at me as I
approached.
“Tess, you shouldn’t see this,” Police Chief Harold Stein announced, blocking my view.
“What happened, Chief?”
“You tell us,” the mystery man said as he neared. “And while you’re at it, you can tell us what you’re doing on the beach.”
My mouth parted at his questions.
“You’re barking up the wrong tree, Shields. This is Tess Venture, and she lives in a cabana around the bend. Tess, ignore him. This is Ryder Shields,” the chief said, glancing up at the guy. “He’s an investigator of sorts and visiting.”
“You a witch?” Shields asked with a nod of his head.
“You’re not very good at your job if you think that,” I growled. “I got a call you wanted my research on all of the guests. I was just heading to the hotel to make you a copy.”
The chief nodded. “We’d appreciate a copy of the list.” His gaze dropped to the covered body. “I’ll be by to pick it up after I get the coroner settled and inform the family.”
“You think that’s wise to go in there alone?” I asked, my eyes bulging. “The Halliwells can be… temperamental. I’d hate for them to turn you into a toad.”
“How did you know it was a Halliwell?” Ryder asked. “Her body was covered by a sheet.”
“I was told when I was called for the list.”
Ryder and Stein shared a questioning look. “We never told anyone at the hotel who it was.”
I sighed. The cop should know better. “This is a big deal, Chief. Whoever found the body and reported it had to use the hotel phone to call you guys. You know that cell service is spotty unless you’re either at the bend”—I pointed behind me—“or at only a few places in town.”
“You’re right,” the chief said, jostling Ryder. “She’s right.”
“So who told you?” Ryder asked, unfazed by my response.
“The head of security called me,” I answered, narrowing my eyes.
Ryder gave a slight nod, but doubt still shined in his eyes, so I turned back to the chief. “I’ll get the list, but I really suggest that you don’t inform the rest of the Halliwells on your own if they’re all together.” I glanced at his gun. “I’m not sure your weapon will be able to stop their temper tantrums.”
Visions and Spells Page 12
