by Raven Snow
“And you don’t?”
“Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”
“Then you should be so fond of this place you don’t ever want to leave.” Rowen winced as soon as the words had left her mouth. She really didn’t want to fight with her mother any more than she had to. “It just feels like things have gotten wilder here ever since I moved back to Lainswich. Maybe it really is my fault. Maybe I’m attracting this sort of thing.”
“Why would you think that?”
Rowen spread her hands. “I dunno,” she began sarcastically. “What is it they say? Twice is a coincidence; a dozen times is potentially the work of a wicked witch.”
“You are the furthest thing from wicked that ever was, Rowen.”
Those words felt nice coming from her mother. Tiffany was biased, though. Rowen knew it. No, now more than ever she was determined. Sitting this particular crime out was in the best interest of everyone involved.
Chapter Six
Rowen didn’t manage to remain uninvolved in the Lainswich legal system for long. It was three in the morning when the cell phone on the nightstand buzzed. Still half asleep, Rowen threw out an arm and groped about for it. She knocked her glass of water over in the process. The sound of water sloshing onto the floor roused her further. Beside her snored Eric and Chester, their dog. It was difficult not to feel a stab of envy as Rowen answered the phone. “Hello?”
“Rowen!” It was Aunt Lydia’s voice on the other end. She sounded positively beside herself— something that did an excellent job of sobering Rowen completely. “I couldn’t get Willow or Margo. I was afraid you wouldn’t answer either. Oh, God, Rowen. Something terrible has happened.”
“What is it?” Rowen’s mind was already racing. Her heart pounded away in her chest, unable to take the anticipation of soul crushing news.
“Someone broke into the store,” Lydia managed around hitches in her breathing.
Rowen immediately felt relieved. Someone breaking into the store was terrible, but it was a far sight better than someone in her family being dead. “What happened?” she asked.
“I don’t know.” It was heartbreaking to listen to Lydia. Despite being very over dramatic about most things, it was easy to tell by the tone of her voice how much this truly upset her. “I got a call from the police station about half an hour ago. They said that the alarm had gone off and that they had sent someone by. Whoever did it was gone by then. It sounds… It sounds like they stole a lot.”
There it was. That was likely the part that was upsetting Lydia the most. All those irreplaceable things she had brought for display. What if some of them were now gone? “Are you there?” asked Rowen.
“Not yet. I’m about to leave, though.”
“Don’t go,” Rowen said quickly. “There’s no point in you going down. I’ll go.”
There was silence on the other end of the phone. “Are you sure?” Aunt Lydia asked, like the offer was a tempting one.
Rowen was already getting out of bed and going to retrieve some clothes from the closet. “Of course I’m sure. You just sit tight. I’ll sort everything out.”
“You’ll call me if you need me, won’t you?”
“Absolutely. Just try and get some rest if you can. Someone will have to deal with the insurance people tomorrow. You save your energy for that.”
“Right… Right, that’s a good idea.” Lydia took one last long, shuddering breath. “Thank you, Rowen. You’re a sweet girl.”
“It’s no problem at all.” Rowen hung up the phone and placed it on her chest of drawers. She yanked open the topmost drawer to retrieve a simple t-shirt.
“What’s wrong?” asked Eric. He was sitting up in bed, brow furrowed. He must have woken up part way through that conversation. Chester was still dozing away, sprawled out and content at the end of the bed.
Rowen wiggled into some jeans. “Someone broke into Odds & Ends,” she explained with a sigh. “Aunt Lydia is beside herself about it. I convinced her to stay at home, so I’m going down there instead. I’m not sure who else is going to be there.”
“I’ll come too,” said Eric, throwing back the covers and finally waking poor Chester. He didn’t leave any room for arguing about it and, honestly, Rowen would be glad to have him along.
***
There were more people outside of the store than Rowen had expected. There were, at least, four cars parked out front and more people than that milling around on the sidewalk. Rowen parked and got out. She couldn’t see much beyond the strobing of a police light, but she could hear Rose. “Rowen,” she called. “Over here.”
Rowen walked in the direction of her cousin. Rose was still in her housecoat. She even had on matching pink fuzzy slippers. “I got here with Ben,” she explained, noting the way Rowen was looking her up and down. “I had to get out the door in a hurry. Mom wouldn’t let me hang up so I could get dressed.”
“Was stuff really stolen? Do they know yet?” Rowen looked to the store. The glass front door had been shattered. A broken cinder block nearby looked to be the culprit.
“We’ll have to take stock tomorrow to be sure, but it certainly looks like it from here.” Rose sighed. “Who would do this sort of thing?”
“Kids,” said Peony from Rowen’s right. Against all odds, Peony had managed to look cute on short notice. Her shorts and tank top matched. Her hair was pulled back in a braid. “At least I assume kids. They do stuff like this.”
“Kids rob New Age shops?” Rowen raised an eyebrow at her cousin.
Peony shrugged. “Kids listen to what their parents say. If their parents say the New Age shop down the street is run by a bunch of evil, murdering witches, that’s what they believe. They take matters into their own hands and… Ya know… feel vindicated smashing windows and stuff.”
Rose raised her eyebrows. Rowen found herself similarly impressed. That was surprisingly insightful.
“Willow and I once broke the window of that mayor our mom hated,” Rose continued. “Just broke the window, mind you. We didn’t, like, rob him or anything.”
Rowen chose to ignore that part. She looked back to the storefront. The lights were on inside. Ben and a couple other officers were walking around, glass crunching beneath their boots.
“This is why you can’t just let murders in Lainswich go ignored,” said Tiffany, startling Rowen. She hadn’t realized her mother and Rory had come up behind her. “Damned if you do, damned if you don’t. Either way, this town is going to find a way to blame you with things like this.”
“We don’t know that this is about the murder,” said Rowen, though she knew good and well that she didn’t sound like she quite believed that. “Most of this town has never liked us very much.”
“Then what’s the harm in trying to do the right thing?” asked Rory, his hands jammed in his pockets. “If I were you, I’d just solve this mystery because it’s the right thing to do.”
“Would you now?” Rowen shot back. “Well, do you feel like solving this particular mystery? Because, as far as I’m concerned, you can have at it.”
“Rowen,” Tiffany snapped. Even Eric gave his wife’s shoulder a squeeze. If there was ever a time to try and not pick a fight, this was it.
Rowen took a deep breath and glanced to Peony. “Are you heading back home after this?”
Peony shrugged. “I dunno. I guess. Not sure what else I would do. Not sure I’ll be able to go back to bed, but it seems kind of early to go in to work, doesn’t it?” Peony looked from Rowen to Rose. “Are we even having work today? What do we do about this stuff? Do we stay at home and try to help our parents with…I dunno…whatever it is they’ll have to do about all this stuff?”
Rose shook her head. “Honestly, I haven’t even really had a chance to think about it. I guess… I guess we’ll just have to play it by ear. I’m sure they’ll have to talk to the cops and deal with insurance. I’m not sure about leaving Mom at home during all of that.”
“Rory and I can help them out,” said Tiffany.
Rory nodded like he agreed with that.
Rowen wasn’t sure how much help her mother and an interloper like Rory would be. “We’ll figure something out,” she said instead of committing one way or another. I think I’ll head back with you if you don’t mind though, Peony.”
Peony shrugged. “Sure. I hitched a ride with your mom, though.”
“You can ride in the back with me,” said Rory with a smile, clapping Rowen on her shoulder.
Suddenly, Rowen wanted to back out. She didn’t, though. She put on a smile and just nodded. “That should be fine. Thanks.”
***
The mood at the Greensmith household was dour. The sun was barely up outside, but no one was asleep. Everyone sat in the living room, moping. There hadn’t been a whole lot that Ben could tell them. They would need the family’s help today. An inventory of all that was lost would need to be made. They would keep looking for the stolen things but, when it came to this sort of crime, things of sentimental value were rarely recovered. If things had been stolen from the Greensmiths with the express purpose of upsetting them, it was even more unlikely that they would be recovered. Ben had apologized profusely for this, not that it was his fault. Still, Rowen could see how it pained him. He was the chief of police and he couldn’t protect his own wife’s family. It was upsetting.
Rowen finally left the den to put a small breakfast together. She found that Rory had, apparently, made a trip out for donuts after dropping them off. “I figured no one would want to cook breakfast, and there isn’t much in the way of cereal and stuff,” he said from where he sat at the bar.
“I’m not sure anyone is going to be in the mood for donuts, but thanks.” Rowen had been thinking more along the lines of frying up some eggs and bacon. There were usually some English muffins in the bread box. She could make them some quick breakfast sandwiches out of that. “My relatives are usually big on a balanced breakfast.”
Rory shrugged. “I figured. I mean, your mom is too. We have fruit and oatmeal together just about every morning. It’s just… Well, the donut place was open. It’s all I could find open at this hour.”
Rowen felt a pang of guilt for giving him a hard time. “Thanks,” she said again, meaning it more sincerely than she had before. She went to put on some coffee instead. Rowen still wasn’t sure about the donuts, but she knew her family would, at the very least, want coffee.
“So, your mom told me a lot about you,” said Rory as Rowen fumbled with a filter.
“Did she?” Rowen asked without much interest. Opening the coffee did some to perk her up. A full face of the smell crashed into her as she inhaled deeply. “I guess I wouldn’t really know. She doesn’t exactly call home often.” Her mother didn’t believe in cellphones. Whatever that even meant. Tiffany preferred to live well off the grid.
“I never really got that.” Rory opened the donut box and pulled out a glazed donut for himself. “I call home all the time. My parents would kill me if I didn’t.”
The coffee had been started, but Rowen could sense that Rory still wanted to talk. Begrudgingly, she decided to humor him. It wasn’t like she was in any great hurry to go back into the gloom of the den. She might as well chat with him while she waited on the coffee to finish. “Your folks live in Tarricville, right?”
Rory’s smile brightened when she asked him a question. His teeth were a lot whiter than some of Tiffany’s past boyfriends. Not that that was saying a whole lot. “That’s right. It felt like a pretty big coincidence when I ran into your mother.”
Rowen nodded. “Because you used to live in Lainswich.” That particular part wasn’t a question. “How old were you when your family moved from Lainswich?”
Rory raised his shoulders in a shrug. “Fairly young. I remember starting school here, but that’s about it. I might have even seen your mother around that time, but I don’t remember it all that well. It’s funny being here now, though. It’s like all these memories are suddenly rushing back.”
“So, why did your parents move?”
“Oh, who knows? It was so long ago and, probably, for a combination of reasons.”
“You never asked them?”
“I guess not.”
“I should meet them some time,” Rowen decided aloud.
Rory raised an eyebrow, but his smile didn’t falter. “If you’d really like to, I guess I can arrange something.”
“It just seems like I should get to know them if you’re my family now.” Rowen shrugged.
“That I am.” Rory nodded as if only now making up his mind. “Yeah, sure, I’ll see if I can set something up sometime soon-ish.”
“Good.” There was something Rowen didn’t trust about Rory. She didn’t like the way he smiled at her or the endearing things he tried to do. She didn’t trust that he had been all right with marrying Tiffany on such short notice. She trusted the fact that he was “coincidentally” from Lainswich even less. Coincidences didn’t happen often in the Greensmith family. Everything meant something.
Rowen got some mugs from the cabinet. She fixed several mugs of coffee and one of tea. With Rory’s help, she carried it and the donuts into the den. “We’ve got some coffee and donuts if anyone wants some. She put the tray down on the coffee table. The cup of tea she handed to Aunt Nadine.
“I can’t wrap my head around any of this, I just can’t.” Aunt Lydia gave a low, sad sigh. She kept going in circles. She hadn’t even taken a look at exactly what was stolen, and it was already difficult for her to deal with.
Reginald put an arm around his wife. “It’ll be all right,” he said, which struck Rowen as more than a little generic. “We’ll get through this together. Let’s just take things one step at a time.”
“He’s right,” said Peter, putting an arm of his own around Nadine.
Nadine forced a smile. She turned the same smile to Rowen as she accepted her tea. “Thank you, dear.”
“No problem at all.” Rowen went to sit next to Peony. Her other cousins had gone to work, and her husband was helping Uncle Norman make a cursory list of what had been stolen. “If you think of any other way I can help, you just let me know.”
Aunt Lydia looked up. “Oh, that’s sweet of you. You don’t have to worry about us, though. Reginald is right. We’ll get through this. We’ve survived worse before.” Lydia took another deep breath. “I just hope that the thief didn’t get away with any of the Stonewalls’ things.” She cringed at the very idea. “I can’t imagine they’ll ever let us live it down if they did.”
“I’m not sure you’re giving them enough credit,” Rowen said in their defense. The Stonewalls were a lot of things, but they weren’t too bad about kicking the Greensmith family when they were down.
“You and Peony can go on, if you need to,” said Nadine. “I know there’s a lot going on right now in the news. We’ll be just fine.”
Lydia nodded in agreement. “There’s no need to spend the whole day shadowing us. We’ll get along just fine. There’s no point in you falling behind. You and the other girls do what you gotta do.”
In that case, there was only one thing Rowen really needed to do at this point in time. “Do you mind if I borrow Reginald and Peter then?” She stood. “We’re not going anywhere. I just need to ask them both about something.”
Lydia and Nadine exchanged looks with each other and their husbands. The women shrugged. The men nodded then stood. They followed Rowen out of the room and into the hallway.
“I take it this is about the potential of there being a cult?” Reginald deduced.
Rowen nodded. “Do you guys know something about it?”
“Of course we do,” said Reginald.
“Kind of,” said Peter at the same time.
Reginald frowned at his brother. “We know more than most,” he amended. “Come on. This way.” He headed down the hall, to a closet in the back. It was a space reserved for old, important things. As a child, Rowen and her cousins had never been permitted to so much as open the door. In there
were family relics that were tucked away, they were told. A lot of what had been put on display at Odds & Ends had likely come from there. It was a shame.
“The cult was actually one of the reasons we even came to Lainswich,” Reginald explained as he leaned into the back of the closet. He opened up a big black chest and removed a large, leather bound book from atop its contents. “We collect this sort of thing.” Reginald tapped the cover of the tome. “This particular piece contains a historical account of a number of cults. I like to think that the man who penned it was a lot like my brother and I, always in search of the strange and unusual.”
“Seems to me like you found plenty of ‘strange and unusual’ here,” said Rowen, following Reginald as he led the way out to the back porch.
“As did the man who wrote this book.” Reginald stepped outside. The sun had lit up more of the sky. Everything was orange and pink and undeniably pretty. Reginald placed the book on the patio table and opened it up. “Here. The entry on Lainswich is very near the end of the book, which speaks volumes about Lainswich already, if you ask me.”
Rowen looked down at the black scrawl within the book. It had clearly all been handwritten. Each page had the occasional smudge or ink blot. She did a cursory scan of the page and only recognized a few words. “How old is this?”
“Old,” said Reginald, unhelpfully.
“If the cult the author writes about here is real and is the same organization you’re looking for now, then its origins may well have predated the founding of this town,” Peter added.
“Oh.” Rowen looked back down at the page, redoubling her efforts to make sense of the words. “And what are they about? I mean, what kind of cult are they even?”
“That’s a good question.” Reginald smiled like he was enjoying the conversation. Maybe he was. A general knowledge of the esoteric and occult wasn’t something people generally found helpful. “There are a number of theories.”
“Theories?” Rowen repeated. “Are they well known or something?”
“By ‘theories,’ my brother means the guesswork of three or four people,” said Peter. “And that’s including us. There isn’t really a whole lot to go on. We had hoped to find out more while living in this area, but--”
