Bailey laughed, and hugged her friend again before she followed her sage advice to consult the local wizard of the playground.
He didn’t give her the secret to his magic—she thought it might be crass to ask him for it, and doubted his twenty or so words would be enough to explain it with. To her great surprise, though, it did make her feel better for a little while.
Chapter 15
Piper watched as Bailey played with her son. She was good with him, and Riley adored his ‘Bay’ as he called her when he cared to call her anything, which was more often now that he was past the twenty-four month mark. And just as she’d predicted, Bailey eventually left with a smile; although Piper knew that a little bit of innocent joy didn’t ultimately reduce all of the terrible things happening in Bailey’s life—or anyone else’s, for that matter.
After Bailey left, Piper judged Riley’s energy level and decided he could afford to burn off a little more before going home for a nap. Unless he was allowed to run himself ragged, it would be a nightmare getting him down. He wasn’t a child that loved to sleep, like Gavin’s mother Evelyn constantly assured Piper her son had been. Evelyn wanted Riley to be his father’s son instead of his mother’s, but she could suck a lemon as far as Piper was concerned.
As she was keeping an eye on Riley, however, she spotted someone on the other side of the park who looked very much like they were observing her. Gloria.
The woman gave her the creeps. Piper knew she’d been hounding Bailey, and Ryan, and the women at the bakery that Bailey spent so much time with—imagine that, a whole flock of witches right here in Coven Grove; maybe that explained why their goodies were so darn good and Piper could never seem to replicate them at home—and, it seemed, she was next on the list.
Well. Gloria Olson could just suck a lemon, too. Piper wasn’t about to put up with it the way Bailey did. She stood, lugging her belly up on her complaining knees and swollen feet, and marched across the playground. She took Riley’s hand as she passed him. “Hold mommy’s hand, Riley-Bee,” she told him. To his credit, he did. This day wasn’t, apparently, one of the random days wherein he planned to be contrary.
Gloria didn’t turn tail and run like Piper half expected her to. Instead, she pulled out small, spiral bound flip pad and a ballpoint pen. Did she expect to get an interview? That was rich.
Piper drew up about five feet away. “Can I help you?” She asked hotly.
Gloria smiled pleasantly. “How long have you known Bailey Robinson?”
“I’m not answering any questions for you,” Piper said, “and you may not quote me on anything at all. What is your freakish obsession with my friend?”
“So you do consider yourself friends?” Gloria asked, a she jotted something down.
Piper nearly slapped the notebook out of her hand. “I consider myself a concerned citizen,” she snapped. “I’m concerned we have a stalker in our town.”
“What are your thoughts on the recent murder, and the suspect, Ryan Robinson; your friend’s father?”
It was as if the woman had no ears. “I have no doubt that the real culprit will be apprehended soon enough,” Piper said. “And if I were a betting woman, I’d put my money on someone new to town that none of us trust.”
Gloria narrowed her eyes, and put her pad away. “Are you accusing me of something?” She asked.
“Well I know that you knew Professor Turner before he came here,” Piper said, “and that you were on him like a lamprey as soon as he got into town. It seems to me the two of you have a pre-existing relationship.”
To Piper’s surprise, Gloria looked genuinely stunned. She closed her mouth so hard that Piper heard her teeth clack. More, she was sure she heard them grind together as the ‘journalist’ worked her jaw in growing anger. “Listen,” Gloria eventually said, “Professor Turner was one of my oldest friends. I’ve known him since I was a little girl. I am more affected and hurt by his death than any of you back woods yokels could imagine. How dare you suggest I could have had anything to do with his murder.”
That took Piper aback. She sighed, and tugged at Riley’s arm as he tried to reach for Gloria’s shoes. He had a thing for shoes, for some reason; it was recent, and annoying. She and Gavin had to get a shoe rack that put them out of Riley’s reach or he’d steal and hide them. “Blue shoes,” Riley said, pointing.
Gloria frowned, and then took a step away to keep her very gray shoes out of Riley’s reach. They were stained with something; maybe that’s what he meant.
“He’s still learning colors,” Piper explained. “That’s gray, baby. Leave Miss Olson’s shoes alone.” He didn’t, of course, but he didn’t scream in protest at least. She looked back at Gloria. “I’m sorry for your loss.” It seemed like the right thing to say.
“Thank you,” Gloria said. She seemed to deflate a little bit as she watched Riley use Piper’s grip on his hand to swing himself back and forth. “How old is he?”
“Just over two,” Piper said.
“You’re due soon?”
Piper nodded, and put a hand on her belly. “Any day now. You don’t have kids, do you?”
“No,” Gloria said. “I’m not sure it’s for me. I only really have one love in life, and its journalism. I’m not sure I could love a child like they needed, you know?”
“It’s important to know that going in,” Piper said. “But you’d be surprised.”
“Even if that’s true,” Gloria said, smiling at Riley, “and you could be right—I guess it’s just a choice to love something else.”
Suddenly, Gloria seemed like a profoundly sad person. As irritating as she was for Bailey, though mostly she did her badgering from a safe distance, Piper almost felt sorry for her. She’d come with Martha to break the big story, and that had been taken away. She’d taken up with Trevor who then bought the Coven Grove Daily and it only seemed to gain any reader interest when someone died. Now, she’d lost a close friend who, according to Bailey, she’d been the one to invite to town.
It must be very difficult for her to be here, Piper thought. Worse, she didn’t seem to have a single friend other than Trevor—and there was no telling what their actual relationship was like.
“Well,” Piper said, “I still don’t have anything to say to you. About the business with the professor, anyway.”
Gloria’s mouth turned downward into a disappointed frown. “No one seems to. I just feel like I need something, you know. A single thread that I can pull to find out who really did it. But I’m guessing you can’t give me that. I just don’t know any other way to do it; I’m a journalist. I ask people questions. Sorry to have bothered you.” She turned to leave, stuffing her hands in her pockets.
“Wait,” Piper said. Gloria stopped, and turned back to her, hands still hidden.
The more people working to clear Ryan’s name, the better, right?
“What I’ve heard,” she told the woman, “is that something was missing off of Professor Turner’s body. A little black notebook. Apparently, Ryan didn’t have it on him and it had Turner’s research in it so… probably that’s why the killer did it and he probably has it on him still. Or she, or whoever.”
Gloria blinked a few times, and then nodded once. “Thank you, Piper. I really appreciate it.”
She turned to leave again.
“Gloria,” Piper said.
This time, when Gloria turned back around, she looked slightly more exasperated. “Yes?”
“Just… I know you don’t know many people in town. That might be why people haven’t really… you know… opened up to you. If you wanted, maybe we could hang out some time.” The idea did seem a little repugnant, but Piper always made an effort to be open minded about everything. In part because her main problem with Evelyn was that she was close-minded about everything and the last thing Piper wanted was to be like her.
Gloria did smile, but it wasn’t convincing. “Maybe. Thanks for offering, Piper. You two have a good rest of your day.”
She
left, and Piper very quickly had to turn her attention to Riley, who was prodding her leg insistently.
“Alright, Riley-Bee,” Piper said. “Let’s get you home for an N-A-P, kiddo.”
“Blue shoes,” Riley announced.
Piper looked down at hers. “Mommy’s shoes are green, baby. Green. Green shoes.”
Riley pointed at Gloria. “Blue shoes.”
Gloria’s shoes were gray, a pair of sneakers that were practical for running around all day questioning folks. “That’s gray,” Piper, corrected. “Gray shoes.”
“Blue shoes,” Riley said, more to himself maybe than to her. For all she knew, he just liked that the words rhymed.
Or, maybe he was colorblind. Gavin was, almost entirely. One more thing to worry about, on top of the million other improbable issues.
“Blue shoes,” Piper sighed. “Come on, let’s go home.”
Chapter 16
Bailey spent the rest of the day waiting anxiously to hear from Chloe or Avery or anyone about a development. She wandered Coven Grove, visited the Caves, sent texts to everyone involved to check in; nothing turned up right away. And it was getting into the evening by the time she finally felt her body grow heavy. Somehow, even as slowly as time seemed to be moving, it had caught up with her.
Chloe assured her that she and Aria would do their part just as soon as they were able. There was no way to rush it, and besides the spell that they had in mind needed to be cast in the dead of night, during the ‘witching hour’ as she called it. It was the hour when there was the least interference, and when the tide of magic was highest.
No one else had any updates other than Piper, who had a brief encounter with Gloria and apologized in advance for having suggested that they might get to know one another. As much as that irked Bailey, she couldn’t just tell her friend who she could and could not know. If anything, maybe a friendship between the two of them would result in Gloria being less of a pain.
So with nothing left but to wander aimlessly, and a bed calling to her from far away, Bailey went home.
The house was quiet, empty. There was a missing presence that she was acutely aware of—her two parents. Her actual parents; the people who’d gone to the trouble to raise her. She tried to muster some more anger over the whole thing but found that she was too exhausted to give it much energy. Instead, she only managed to make herself morose.
She wasn’t able to go to sleep right away. Once she laid down, it was as though all the thoughts she’d so carefully tucked down below to deal with later spilled out the moment she tipped herself over and came rushing back to the front of her mind. There was nothing new there, yet; just the same tumble of worries and half-assumptions.
As a consequence, she tossed and turned for a few hours before she finally sat up and resolved to simply make some coffee, and then go back to the bakery to wait. She didn’t care how long it took. Probably in this state she was in no condition to help with a spell, but she could at least watch and learn.
Just as Bailey had set the pot to brewing, there was a knock. Short, light, and tentative. Another deputy, probably.
Bailey made her way to the door and peered through the peephole. Aiden was there, looking worried, his hands in his pockets.
She rested her head against the door for a long moment, then opened it. “Aiden,” she said. “Did you find something?”
Aiden frowned, and shook his head apologetically. “I wish I had better news. In truth, though, I just came to… check on you. You didn’t seem up to talking earlier. I thought perhaps you needed time to process it all.”
“I do,” she said. She very nearly sent him away, then. But she couldn’t quite bring herself to it. “I just made coffee…”
“I wouldn’t want to impose,” Aiden said. He took a step back from the door.
But Bailey sighed, and waved him in. “Don’t leave,” she said. “Please, come in.”
He smiled as he did so cautiously, and then glanced around the place. It wasn’t in the cleanest state, but it wasn’t unfit for company. Bailey couldn’t manage to care either way, just at the moment. “How do you like your coffee?” she asked.
“Do you have cream and sugar?”
Bailey did, and she provided both when the pot seemed to have enough in it for two cups. Aiden fixed his cup himself but didn’t call Bailey out on being a poor hostess; not that she expected him to, but she felt a pang of guilt about it.
“So,” Aiden said after they’d both taken a few sips in silence, “I suppose it’s been a day for revelations, hasn’t it?”
“Any more big reveals,” Bailey said, “and I’m moving for real this time.”
Aiden raised an eyebrow at that, but didn’t comment. “You know, when I discovered that Martha Tells may have been my real mother, it wasn’t what I expected.” He swirled his coffee a few times, and then sat down on a stool at the little island counter. Bailey did the same, on the opposite side from him.
“Somehow, I thought that just knowing the truth would… fill up some emptiness inside me,” he went on quietly. “It didn’t, though. It seemed like it just made it bigger. She wasn’t what I really wanted, I suppose, for one thing. And for another, I found her just barely too late.” He seemed to be looking through his cup and into the world beneath it. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought that if I had just looked a little harder, a little earlier…”
“There’s no sense dwelling on the past,” Bailey said. Of course, it was easier to move on when your mother had passed away by the time you found her. Bailey’s past was teaching her magic, and they were inextricably bound together by the Caves now.
“No, there isn’t,” Aiden said. “You’re right, of course. Have you… sorted anything out with, ah, Miss Minds?”
“Chloe?” Bailey shook her head. “There’s too much else going on right now.”
“Forgive me for saying so,” Aiden said, “but it is likely that will be just as much the case later as it is now. A case of waiting for the right time when there really is no such thing.”
Any other time, when she was feeling fresher perhaps, Bailey would have pointed out that he could mind his own business and that she was entirely capable of deciding on the matter for herself. The ire needed to pull it off was lacking, though. He meant well, of course. She knew that.
“We’ll get our chance,” she said simply.
“It’s a very lonely feeling,” he said, “thinking no one understands what you’re going through. I can’t know precisely what’s happening in your mind and heart now—certainly not the way you could know what’s in mine—but I feel I do understand a very close approximation. And for what it’s worth, which may not be much… I’m sorry you’re going through all of this. You aren’t alone in it. I hope you know that.”
The coffee was bitter. Too strong. Ryan always made it better. Just strong enough. Bailey set the cup aside, and clasped her hands together on the counter. “Thank you,” she said.
At length, Aiden stood from the stool. “I would hate to overstay my welcome. I’ll see you tomorrow, then? Let you get some rest.”
Bailey stood as well, but as he began to head toward the door she stopped him. “Do you think…” She trailed off, her cheeks warm, and then waved a hand. “Never mind.”
“By all means,” Aiden said gently. “If you have any request of me, you need only speak and it shall be done.”
God, the way he talked. She’d always liked it about him, from the very first moment she met him.
“I don’t want to impose,” she said. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Bailey,” Aiden said, turning to lean against the inside of the front door, “if you need anything from me, it is yours if it is within my power. I mean it.”
“You’ll think it’s silly,” she said. “I’m a grown woman. But… the house is just very… empty. Lonely. If you wanted you could stay the night.”
His shoulders stopped rising and falling. His eyes dropped, and then roamed the
floor at his feet. His mouth thinned a bit, and finally turned down a bit at the corners. “I don’t know that we’re… perhaps it isn’t a good idea, Bailey, in your current state.”
Bailey groaned. “Not with me,” she said, “just in the house, Aiden. On the couch or in Ryan’s bed.”
Aiden’s cheeks turned a pinkish hue. He blushed very handsomely. Maybe, she thought, she wouldn’t have minded after all. But he was right that now was the worst time to make a decision like that.
“Of course,” Aiden said. “Just in the house, not with… I’d be happy to oblige you. On the couch.”
“On the couch,” Bailey confirmed. She left him, and gathered a blanket and a pillow. When she came back, he was still leaning against the door. She set them down on the sofa. “I suppose you could always leave after I fall asleep.”
“Certainly not,” Aiden said. “I shall be your stalwart, through the night.”
“Alright,” Bailey said. “Um… I appreciate it. Even if it is silly of me.”
“I don’t think it’s silly or foolish at all,” he told her.
Between the exhaustion, the stress, and the ongoing emotional elevator plummeting and soaring in the last months, it was very possible that Bailey was not one hundred percent in her right mind. She was aware of this as she took a step toward Aiden.
But it didn’t stop her from taking another, and another, and finally meeting him as he stood up from where he was leaning. He didn’t stop her when she lifted herself up on her toes, and he didn’t encourage her when she pressed her lips to his. He didn’t seem to react at all, in fact—he simply let it happen.
Bailey drew away, and bit her lip, unsure how to read his face or his stiff posture. “Um… thank you,” she said. “For staying. It means a lot.”
“No trouble,” Aiden said. “Sleep well, Bailey.”
“You, too,” she said. Then she turned, and left him there. She didn’t fall asleep any faster of course—not with the bit of caffeine and a fresh kiss haunting her brain—but she did fall asleep eventually, into troubled dreams of shadows, and poisonous pens, and doors with golden locks.
Witching The Night Away: A Cozy Mystery (The Witchy Women of Coven Grove Book 3) Page 10
