Just Your Average Small Town Cult (Lainswich Witches Book 14)

by Raven Snow

  “And I appreciate it. It’s just…” Eric twirled a pen between nimble fingers. “We’re kinda out of stuff to do here.”

  Rowen stood in the center of the room. Having completed the last task available, she wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself now. “Are you sure?”

  Eric nodded. “I’m pretty sure.”

  “Well… We could always come up with some new kind of filing system.” Rowen turned back to the filing cabinet. “I mean, the drawers are a little cramped. Maybe we should go through them and—”

  “Let’s not,” Eric interrupted.

  “What do you want to do then?”

  “I was thinking, maybe we could leave early and go help your family out at the store. Lydia keeps moving the furniture around for the tricentennial. She insists she can do it on her own, but… I dunno. That stuff is pretty heavy. I don’t want her to throw her back out or anything.”

  That sounded like a good idea, but Rowen didn’t want to admit as much. “I might stay here,” she said instead. She didn’t want to chance her mother and new stepfather being there.

  Eric frowned at that. “There really isn’t anything for you to do here,” he reiterated. “Come on. Let’s—” He was cut off as Rose entered through the front door.

  “Hey. Sorry, are you guys busy?”

  “Not at all,” Eric said quickly, before Rowen had a chance to say anything. “What’s up?”

  “Can I see your television remote?” Rose asked, facing the television mounted on the wall. Eric handed Rose the remote. She turned on the TV and flipped channels until settling on Channel 2. “There,” she said, pointing to the screen. A forecaster was talking about the weather. Below that, however, white text scrolled by on a red background. It was about the murder. “They keep cutting back to people talking about it. It’s their big story for today,” Rose explained. “The police came out with a statement. Though, Julia seems to know quite a bit more than was officially released. Not that that’s a surprise after what she told us.”

  “So, what? Do you want me to write an article based on what your husband showed Margo and me?”

  Rose shook her head. “Not if it’s not part of the official release or something that’s already made its way to Channel 2.”

  “So what do you want me to do then?”

  “Look into this thing,” Rose said, like that much should be obvious. “Do what you always do. Solve a mystery.”

  Rowen wasn’t used to her own family urging her to attempt such a thing. Usually, they were vehemently against her getting too involved in these matters. “Are you sure that’s the best course of action?” she asked, deciding to be her own voice of reason.

  “What do you mean?” asked Rose.

  “I mean, this is the sort of mystery where everyone is going to be keeping an extra special eye on us and our family anyway. Do we really want to give them reason to suspect us of playing a hand in all this? Maybe it’s best if we keep our distance and just report the facts like any other news publication would.”

  “Are you feeling all right?” asked Rose. It was a valid question. It was unlike Rowen to back down from this sort of thing. The stuff with her mother had her really out of sorts.

  “I promised I would help out at Odds & Ends.” Rowen looked to her husband. “We’re both headed there. Right?”

  Eric regarded his wife in silence for several long moments before giving in with a nod. “Right,” he agreed. He turned to Rose next, offering her a tight-lipped smile. “Sorry,” he said, almost like he was apologizing for Rowen. Rowen didn’t much appreciate that.

  “If you come up with something about the paper that needs doing, let me know,” said Rowen as she headed out the door.

  “And you call me if you change your mind about looking into this,” said Rose, following her outside.

  “Will do.” Rowen fished the keys to lock up the office from her pocket. “I wouldn’t hold my breath, though.”

  ***

  Aunt Nadine was manning the register at Odds & Ends. She smiled when she saw Rowen and Eric enter. “Hey there,” she said, putting down the book she had been reading.

  “Hey,” echoed Rowen, coming to stand at the counter. “We finished up at work, so we figured we would swing by here to see if you need any help.”

  “Oh, we always need help,” Nadine assured her. “Or, at least, Lydia seems to think we do. She wants those oak bookshelves against the wall for the tricentennial. Of course, they’re only in the center of the store because she wanted them there for the festivities. I’m going to have to put my foot down about moving all these things; I really am.”

  Rowen couldn’t imagine the sight of Aunt Nadine “putting her foot down.” Still, she nodded in agreement. “We’ll go ahead and move it again. Tell her there won’t be any more help from us after this, though.”

  “Oh, I’m sure she’ll just recruit her husband if she can’t get anyone else to help her,” Nadine said with a resigned sigh. She perked up a moment later as if remembering something. “That’s right. Reginald and Peter still need to speak with you about all that cult business. They said they had some things you might want to have a look at.”

  “Pass that on to Rose,” said Rowen, going to take one side of the bookshelf. “I’m staying out of this.”

  Nadine raised an eyebrow, but she didn’t question her niece. “If you say so.”

  The bead curtains in the back parted, and from them emerged Tiffany. She grinned when she saw her daughter. “I thought I heard you out here.”

  Rowen wasn’t surprised to see her mother. She didn’t much want to spend time around her, but that seemed unavoidable. She just hoped Rory wasn’t here as well. “Hey,” she said, forcing a smile. “You settling back in to reading cards?”

  “Of course,” Tiffany said with a nod. Tarot cards were sort of her thing. When she was at Odds & Ends, she was their designated fortune teller. “You want me to read yours while you’re here?”

  “Thanks, but I’m good,” said Rowen.

  “Are you doing anything when you’re finished here?” asked Tiffany, much like Rory had. “It would be nice to spend some time together. It feels like it’s been forever.”

  It did feel like it had been forever since Rowen had seen her mother. That was sort of the problem. “I’m not sure about tonight. We’ll find time before you have to leave again, though.” That was about as noncommittal as it got. Even Tiffany didn’t know how long she would be staying.

  “Is this about Rory?” asked Tiffany. She sighed heavily and went to lean against the counter. “He’s not here with me. You can say what’s on your mind.”

  “What’s on my mind?” Rowen ignored the warning look Eric gave her. Undoubtedly, he didn’t want her starting an argument she would regret later. There was never much point in arguing with Tiffany, after all. “I think you’ve brought home another guy you don’t know the first thing about.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means, you have a bad track record of bringing serial killers into everyone’s lives.” Rowen knew they were all thinking it. It must have occurred to even Tiffany. How could it not? “How long did you know Rory before you were hitched?”

  Tiffany stiffened, taking a step away from the counter to stand up straight, like she was growing defensive. “A while.”

  “And how long is a while?” urged Rowen.

  “A few months, at least.”

  Rowen had a feeling that “a few” translated to more than one, but less than three. “That’s not enough time to really get to know someone,” she said, regardless.

  “He’s not like the others,” Tiffany insisted. “I learned my lesson with them.”

  “Did you? Because it sure doesn’t seem like it when you’re out marrying relative strangers.”

  “You haven’t even met him,” said Tiffany, frowning at her daughter. To her credit, it didn’t appear that her temper was escalating quite like Rowen’s was. “At least give him a chance. Ge
t to know the guy before you judge him. Is that too much to ask?”

  “Is it too much to ask that you get to know a guy before you marry him?” Rowen shot back.

  “He does seem like a nice guy,” Nadine said quickly, squeezing her way into the conversation in an obvious attempt to defuse things. “I wish we’d had a chance to go to the wedding, but I understand how these whirlwind romances can go.”

  “And that’s another thing!” Rowen was only dimly aware of raising her voice. “Rose got married. Your own sisters got married. You didn’t come back for any of that, but you traipse right back home with a husband?”

  “That’s not—” Tiffany began, but they were all interrupted by the little bell over the door ringing. Everyone turned.

  Roland Davies stood in the doorway, looking from one person to another, eyes wide. “Did I interrupt something?” he asked.

  Roland was a nice fellow. That hadn’t always been the case. Once he had been the sort of trashy fellow that stood in front of things he disagreed with, holding up offensive signs. Mostly he had disagreed with the Greensmiths existing—or had right up until they saved his life from a serial killer. A serial killer that Tiffany had been seeing romantically, for that matter.

  “You’re not interrupting anything important,” said Aunt Nadine, putting on a smile. “It’s nice to see you, Roland. It’s been a while.”

  Roland nodded. He came inside, thumbs hooked in his pockets. He offered Tiffany an awkward sort of smile. “I heard you were back in town. Glad to see the rumors were true.”

  It was Tiffany’s turn to put on an awkward smile then. “It’s good to see you, too.”

  “Planning on staying for a while?”

  “Hopefully.” Tiffany gave a small shrug. “You know how things are.”

  Rowen wasn’t quite sure what she meant by that. She looked instead to the bookcase she was supposed to be helping Eric with. He had been standing there, waiting to move the thing for the better part of the last few minutes. Together, they managed to gradually walk the bookshelf toward the wall.

  “Let me help with that.” Roland moved to give them a hand. He ended up slowing them down quite a bit, but it was the thought that mattered. “We should grab lunch some time,” Roland said, looking back to Tiffany once the bookshelf had been moved. “Are you busy tonight?”

  “Well,” Tiffany began, clearly looking for some excuse not to go. It was no great secret that Roland had feelings for her. Rowen was fairly certain they had dated briefly, a relationship likely ended prematurely by Tiffany’s inability to stay in any single place for an extended period of time. “Tonight, I was actually planning on doing some family stuff.”

  “Tomorrow for lunch then? Dinner?” suggested Roland.

  “I’ll have to see.” Tiffany wasn’t stupid. She had to know what Roland was aiming for here. Likewise, Roland had to be growing just a bit confused and discouraged. “We definitely have to do something, though. Definitely. How have things been?”

  “Oh, you know. It’s been pretty much the same old, same old. I can’t really complain. You?”

  “I’ve been traveling,” said Tiffany, like that wasn’t obvious. “Drove out to the coast and lived on the beach for a few days. Then I went to the mountains after that and did a lot of hiking. That’s actually where I met Rory. I don’t think you’ve met him yet.”

  Of course Roland hadn’t met Rory yet. Tiffany was obviously just looking for a way to bring up the fact that she was married now. “Rory?” Roland repeated, making a similar concerted effort not to appear as if the idea of her meeting a new guy didn’t bother him.

  “My husband.”

  “Ah.” The smile on Roland’s face faltered but only slightly. Honestly, he did a rather good job of keeping his cool. “Well, congratulations!” he muttered a second later, going up to Tiffany and clapping her on the shoulder. He wasn’t a terribly attractive man. He had a farmer’s tan and a wardrobe consisting almost entirely of flannel and denim. Even so, Rowen could see what Tiffany had liked about him. Behind all those rough edges was a sweet guy. It was why the Greensmiths invited him over to family dinners with regularity. If he hadn’t had many friends before deciding to side with the Greensmiths, he certainly didn’t have any now.

  “Thanks,” said Tiffany, looking a bit at a loss as to what to say next. “You should really meet each other. I think you would get along.”

  Roland nodded like that wasn’t a terrible idea. “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good.” He glanced back at the door. “Well, I should probably get going. I actually have… somewhere to be, so…”

  Tiffany nodded. “Yeah, of course. I’ll see you later.”

  Roland gave her a little wave farewell before exiting the store. Rowen felt her heart sink in her chest a bit as she watched him go. “Now that was just sad.”

  “Don’t be mean,” snapped Tiffany, keeping her voice down even though he almost certainly couldn’t hear them from here. He was already getting back into his pickup truck.

  “I’m not trying to be mean. That was genuinely sad. I like Roland, and he likes you.” Rowen was pretty sure that was obvious.

  “Well, I can’t help it if I met someone,” said Tiffany, which was true enough.

  “Okay, but did you ever officially break up with him, though?” asked Rowen.

  “We were never officially dating,” Tiffany said in her own defense.

  "Did he know that?” asked Rowen.

  “I imagine he did the first few times I left town. He visited the last time I came back with a boyfriend. This certainly shouldn’t be any sort of surprise to him.” Tiffany watched as the car pulled out. She sighed. “I don’t know why he seems to be so stuck on me. I hope he finds someone, though. He really is a sweet guy. Sure he’s a little rough around the edges, but he’s a kind soul.”

  Rowen would prefer it if Tiffany dated Roland. She would prefer a lot of things. For now, however, she let it go. Try as she might, she didn’t have any control over her mother’s love life. “So who is this family of Rory’s?” she asked instead.

  “Hmm?”

  “You said that Rory had family from Lainswich,” Rowen reminded her. “You also said you stopped in Tarricville to visit with his family. So, which is it?”

  “His family moved to Tarricville when he was still young.” Tiffany seemed to welcome a slight change of subject. “As a hometown, I imagine Lainswich is a bit of an acquired taste. His family is lovely, though.”

  “That’s nice,” said Nadine, jumping into the conversation herself now that they were on a slightly more pleasant topic. “Did they know you were a Greensmith?”

  Tiffany nodded. “They didn’t seem to mind one bit either. They said that they found Lainswich’s view on my family to be horribly backward. Honestly, I didn’t expect them to be nearly as welcoming as they were. It was such a nice surprise.”

  Rowen still didn’t trust any of this. “Well, I hope someone is at least keeping an eye on this guy. If he turns out to be another murderer--”

  “He’s not a murderer,” snapped Tiffany.

  “Believe me. I want that to be true more than anyone.” The last thing Rowen wanted was to find out her mother was seeing another one of those. “Though he did get here right in time for a murder to take place.”

  Tiffany waved a hand as if that wasn’t a big deal. “There are murders happening all the time around here.” She headed toward the bead curtain in the back and motioned for her daughter to follow. “Come on back here and let me read your cards.”

  Rowen glanced at her husband. He shrugged. With a sigh, she followed her mother into the back.

  The small room she entered into was one used primarily for readings like the ones her mother did. It had a tendency to fall into disuse when she wasn’t around. Now, for instance, it was crowded with boxes stacked one on top of the other. They had all been pushed into corners of the room upon Tiffany’s arrival. They stood like dark pillars in the shadows. The only light came from some candles sitti
ng on an old wooden table. A crystal ball sat there, mostly for appearances. The stack of cards to its right were what Tiffany really liked to use.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t run marrying Rory by you,” said Tiffany, sitting down at the table. She motioned for her daughter to sit across from her.

  “No, you’re not,” said Rowen, sitting. “You’re just sorry that I’m mad at you about it.”

  “Well, I certainly don’t like you being mad at me. I suppose I can’t really argue with you there.”

  Rowen took a deep breath. There really wasn’t much point in staying mad at her mother. “What do my cards say?”

  Tiffany smiled and began to shuffle. She cut the deck a few times in between rifling it. Finally, she began to lay out cards and flip them over. Rowen watched as her mother worked. She had never been too handy with tarot herself, though she did know the major arcana. Seeing the Justice card troubled her. “You said there was a murder, right?” asked Tiffany, the smile falling from her face.

  “That’s right.”

  “It seems like the cards aren’t willing to look much further than that. You’ll have to solve this thing before I can tell you anything useful.”

  “I’m staying out of it this time around.” Rowen had made up her mind on that, and she was sticking by it.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, the police can do their job this time around. Getting involved will just make the Greensmiths look suspicious.”

  “But it’s what you do.” Tiffany frowned like this sort of thing had always been Rowen’s forte.

  “But I don’t have to,” Rowen pointed out. “For several years there, I didn’t even live in Lainswich. Maybe that’s what I should have stuck with. Maybe I should take a cue from you and just run far, far away.”

  “Don’t say something like that. You love it here.”