by Beth Caudill
Before love became too messy, too addicting, too complicated to escape.
“That doesn’t look appetizing,” he pointed to the pitted gray blob on the screen.
She grabbed the computer before it dropped to the floor. “Don’t sneak up on me.”
He rounded the end of the furniture and flopped beside her. “It’s fun. However, that doesn’t explain why you’d take a picture of gum beneath a bleacher.”
She shrugged. “I liked the rainbow of colors. I take tons of photos, but not everything will sell. Sometimes I take a picture just because it speaks to me. That’s the advantage of the digital age. You can take pictures of anything and everything.”
“Even if it resembles sprinkle-colored dog yak.”
She closed the laptop. “Even if no one else sees the same beauty in the colors and indentions of gum that I do.”
A tense silence fractured the room. She hadn’t meant to sound so harsh.
“What is there to do around here?” He shoved off the sofa. Like a trapped tiger, he prowled around the room.
Worry gnawed at the edges of Lawke’s peace. He wouldn’t rest until his daughter returned. But maybe there was a way to lighten his load. “In the bottom drawer of the bedroom night stand, there are decks of cards. Select a set and bring it over.”
Thumps and a few curses drifted to her from the bedroom. In short order, his boots scuffed against the floor. He dangled a deep purple velvet bag in front of her face. “These aren’t playing cards.”
“No. They’re tarot cards.” She twisted sideways so one leg draped the side of the coach and the other was bent. “Sit down, please.”
“That’s not going to work.” He sat on the floor, with his legs stretched out. “What’s with the marked quartz?” His mesmerizing eyes focused on her.
For a moment, the force of his concentrated attention caught her. Nothing else mattered. A shiver broke the connection. “They’re runes, another form of divination.” Her voice came out rather breathy.
“Divination? Can they predict the weather? I listened to the radio in the truck and a tropical storm is heading for the coast.”
“Weather is unpredictable. It’s a constant of the universe.”
He shook his head. “Most people would stock board games like backgammon or chess. Maybe cards for poker. This place is definitely not normal.”
She refused to glance toward the lone bedroom with the queen-sized bed, but she couldn’t meet his eyes. “I don’t think they expect people to spend their time in the living room. There isn’t even a TV out here.”
Her fingers rubbed the velvet cloth. In that moment, she resisted the urge to pull out the cards and see which deck he chose. Once she did, the mystery was gone. Her curiosity sated.
“Are you going to do something with those?”
Her cheeks heated. “Yes, of course.” After opening the drawstrings, she removed the deck. Her breath caught in her throat. It was the same set she’d been drawn to.
The back of the cards was a delicate lilac sky with yellow stars bordering a center sun surrounded by a complex Celtic circle with stylized foxes, birds, turtles, and deer interconnected in a never-ending circle. The fronts were bright pastels featuring mythological beasts and people in flowing or airy scenes.
She’d expected him to select the standard Rider-Waite deck, something simple, less fantastical.
“I’m going to use a four-card spread called ‘Facing a Challenge’. It’s meant to help you meet whatever problem you are facing. You need to think of a specific question related to the kidnapping.”
Her fingers tingled as she fanned the deck. She placed the stacked deck near his shoulder on the cushion. “Take the deck and while you’re shuffling the cards think about your question.”
“Don’t people usually draw more cards?”
She leafed through the small pamphlet with card definitions. “Circle and Celtic Cross spreads require more. However, for me, the complexity opens too many pathways and is less helpful. I like a more straightforward configuration.”
The quiet slap of cards filled the hesitant silence.
“So you and Zoe’s mom didn’t make it as a couple?” She cringed. Why did her mouth have to engage before her brain?
His piercing gaze stopped her fidgeting. “You could say that.”
“When you’re done shuffling, set the cards down and cut them with your left hand. Place the left-hand stack over the right one.”
“Rachel and I shouldn’t have lasted past high school, except Zoe came along. We were too young, wanted different things.” He left the cards stacked, turned sideways.
She dealt the cards—one in the first row, two in the second, and one in the third. “How long did you stay together?”
“Zoe was six when we separated. Rachel couldn’t handle the remote assignments. Going home was a bigger minefield than my job. But we tried for Zoe.” His voice cracked. “We’d been doing fine with the current arrangement, until this trip to London.”
She turned over the first card, the challenge. The Knight of Cups depicted by a man riding a unicorn in the sea with a golden cup just out of reach. “A man who follows the truth within his heart. If he remains faithful to his path, eventually he’ll fulfill his quest.”
“So he thinks he’s doing the right thing?”
She shrugged. “Every villain does.”
He turned the next card. The Eight of Wands.
She smacked his hand. “I’m supposed to do that.”
“I’m simply having fun with the game.”
She didn’t believe his innocent act for a minute. “The Eight of Wands is your strength, a journey toward hope.”
“So we have a chance to win.” He shook his head. “Always good to know.”
She turned the next card. The Six of Cups, represented by a girl having a tea party next to a stream of golden fish.
The smile left his face. “Zoe used to make me attend tea parties.”
“This is your weakness. A remembrance of simpler times. Forget the complexities of life, and be more open-minded.”
“What does that mean exactly?”
“I have no idea. It’s open to interpretation. It could mean watch for opportunities or don’t over think the situation.”
They reached for the last card at the same time. “Go ahead.” She backed off.
He turned over the Lovers. “That card fits the atmosphere of the cabin.”
“It’s a card about balance, making choices, using both your heart and your mind.”
“Right.” He drew out the pronunciation. “That’s why they’re kissing.”
Heat blanketed her face. “It’s only a bit of fun. Something to think about.” Evelyn turned the cards over and shuffled the whole deck before she returned them to the velvet bag.
He drew the bag from her hands and returned it to the bedroom.
She drew the blanket off the back of the sofa and laid her head on one of the pillows.
“What are you doing?”
“Going to sleep. You’d never fit on the couch. I’m saving you the trouble of offering. Good night.”
A long moment later, the overhead light turned off and in a quiet voice he said, “Good night.” Then the bedroom door shut.
She closed her eyes but image of the Lovers card wouldn’t leave her mind. It was going to be a very long, sleepless night.
6
“Officer Edwards, in my office,” Captain Simmons bellowed. His officers should be watching the suspect, not sitting at their computers.
“Captain.” Sweat beaded on the young man’s forehead. Only in the department for a year, the junior officer wasn’t comfortable with his place.
Trying to keep his anger in check, he said, “Did I not direct you to follow Ranger Morgan?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then why aren’t you out at the Murmuring Springs?”
“He left. Drove to Gracelynne Shroud State Park.” He swallowed. “We didn’t follow because
of the standing order to leave anything related to Willows Haven alone.”
Simmons was rarely surprised these days, but for once he didn’t know what to think. This case seemed straightforward. An ex-wife moves on with her life and drops the kid off. Either the guy can’t handle it with the new woman in his life or he wants the ex-wife’s attention and arranges for something to happen to their daughter.
In a lot of cases, family hurt each other. It didn’t need to make sense. Yet anything related to Willows Haven and Annabel was more than it seemed.
Magic existed in places like Willows Haven and it was his responsibility to keep it secret. Mystical powers weren’t something normal people were prepared to handle.
“Did he drive through town?”
The officer looked at the ground. “No. They packed and headed straight for the park.”
There were cabins within Willows Haven limits. The park was part natural resource and part protection for the town.
“Any idea why he’d go there?”
“His brother is a deputy in town. He may have traveled there for moral support.” The young man’s voice cracked on the last statement.
“Or not. I trust there are more cases requiring your attention? Like this one?” He held out the report for a robbery of a bloodmobile. The county hospital used the vehicle for large blood drives at corporate sites. Only someone who was disturbed would steal blood.
“Yes, sir.”
“No case waits forever. Go over the forensic reports when they come in and keep tabs on Morgan’s location. I want to know where he goes after leaving the park.” He made eye contact. “Dismissed.”
Either Morgan was going for family console or something far more sinister than a kidnapping was going on. He’d worked with park rangers before. They were quiet, meticulous, and a bit nutty about natural resources.
Practical. Not the type of person to suddenly harm a daughter they supposedly loved. But that didn’t mean one couldn’t have done it, either.
There wasn’t a lot of physical evidence. Something he’d thought condemned the man because he had law enforcement training. Maybe there was another reason for the absence. A highly dangerous and complicated reason.
Magic. The bane of his existence. He couldn’t live with its rules, yet he couldn’t give it up.
He prayed for the girl and that Morgan was a caring dad who could do what was necessary to save her life. Because there were consequences for dealing with the inhabitants of Willows Haven.
7
Around him, the forest slumbered in darkness. Lawke stumbled far less than he expected on this early morning excursion. It was as if the roots and shrubs moved out of his way. A crazy thought last week, but now somewhat plausible after meeting a shapeshifter and ancient Aztec.
He circled around his target, seeking a hidden spot to observe the backyard and driveway of the Woodward brother’s home. Mist hovered above the ground in a ghostly shroud. He knelt in a hollow surrounded by bushes and waited.
He’d slept fitfully throughout last night. First a nightmare of Zoe having her heart cut from her chest roused him. Next, he’d dreamed of the Lovers card, except he and Evelyn had been the couple kissing. Awake in the pre-dawn hours, he’d searched the online public property taxes and located the brothers’ address. Unable to remain inside, he wrote Evelyn a note and escaped into the forest.
Slowly, the sky lightened toward dawn and a lone bird chirped a hopeful song. A chorus of wolf howls shattered the quiet. Movement drew his eye toward the woods edging the Woodward’s backyard. He raised his binoculars. A tall, dark-haired man exited the house onto a deck, walked down the stairs, and into the open yard. Two wolves joined him.
They waited. Time crept forward until the body of one of the wolves and the man shook and things moved beneath their skin. They changed, but nothing like the smooth, silver sparkling transformation Evelyn went through.
The process took at least five minutes. It looked painful. Finally, a man very similar in appearance to the first stood where the wolf had been. And a barred owl shook its feathers into place where the first man stood.
Lawke looked at his watch. It was six o’clock in the morning.
The owl launched into the sky. The second man sunk his hands into the wolf’s fur and accepted a lick before the wolf disappeared back into the woods. The man entered the house.
Almost two hours later, the revving of a motorcycle engine disturbed the tranquil neighborhood. One of the brothers drove away and Lawke decided to return to the cabin.
He walked in on Evelyn putting on boots to go with a pretty lilac dress over gold leggings.
“What happened?”
“Who says anything unusual happened?” He needed to understand these new shifters before she confronted them.
Although, he wasn’t sure where to find any information. Old myths, stories, and movies were fiction, and while people said there was fact within the tales, he didn’t have time to figure out which was which.
“You’re looking a little pale, and you’re hesitant to answer my question.”
“The Woodward brothers shapeshifted, but it wasn’t the same process as your transformation.”
She tilted her head. “How so?”
“For one thing, it hurt them to transform. For another, they changed at the same time.”
“It’s a curse.” She stated matter-of-factly, yet her eyes widened dread dimmed their glow.
He frowned. “A curse? Really. Magic, sacrifices, and curses.” He closed his eyes. Tried to gather his thoughts into something coherent. Things like this didn’t exist in the world. Except, his daughter was gone, and he’d seen Evelyn transform.
If the power to shapeshift existed, obviously, everything else was a possibility as well. At one time, the path of the sun was a chariot ride…a myth to explain a natural phenomenon.
He refocused on her. “How does a curse work?”
“Depends on who casts it.”
This was why magic was nonsense. “That’s helpful.”
She shrugged. “If a witch cast the spell, then it would involve natural elements. A demon would exploit a sin. Black mages uses blood. There isn’t a single curse to fit all situations. Just as the English language has nuances, so does magic. What are the animals?”
“An owl and a wolf.”
She frowned. “That makes no sense. Two beings tied together should be similar in nature. In will. Particularly if they are related by blood.”
“Does it matter for what we have to do? Don’t get lost in the complexities. We need to learn their schedule, break in, get the photo, and leave.” Before Stanford, Lawke’s older brother, discovered them.
“I guess not. It’s just strange.”
“Let’s stroll around town, be touristy. We’ll need to surveil them at least three days and make sure we don’t attract any undue attention. Especially of the police.”
He didn’t need a lecture from his brother about right from wrong. The only thing that mattered was getting Zoe back.
Willows Haven appeared to be a typical small town. There were residential streets intermixed with strip malls and a large shopping area near the highway. Even the downtown section had been revitalized with eateries, businesses, and professional offices. Like the local newspaper.
Several willow trees grew along the edge of a deep lake on the north side of town. They must have been the inspiration for the town name. Although that didn’t explain the businesses use of nature-themed titles. Someone must have an earthly sense of humor.
Lawke escorted Evelyn into the Cherries and Berries Diner. It occupied a large storefront on Main Street. They stood between the checkout counter and a large refrigerated pie case while waiting to be seated. A modest décor consisted of dark wood booths along the street-side windows and near the kitchen a beige countertop was lined with bright silver cushioned stools. The walls held paintings of different types of fruit trees.
“You can sit anywhere. I’ll be with you in a minu
te,” an older redheaded woman in a mint green uniform told them as she walked by carrying a tray filled with steak, eggs, and waffles.
He slid into the end booth where he could keep an eye on the door and anyone walking around the side, near the restrooms. Evelyn sat across from him and slid him a menu. They offered an eclectic selection of sandwiches, dinner platters, and breakfast entrees. Desserts, mostly pies and cobblers, covered the entire back page.
“What can I get you, sweetie?” the waitress asked, tapping a pen on her pad.
“I’ll try the strawberry French toast.”
Lawke shook his head at Evelyn’s sweet tooth. “I’ll have an omelet with mushrooms, onions, ham, and cheese with a side of fried potatoes.”
“Any coffee?”
Evelyn flipped through the menu. “I’d like a glass of apple juice.”
“I’ll just have sweet tea.”
The waitress nodded. “Be back with your drinks shortly.” She walked away.
Lawke glanced out the window at the empty street. Even for a Sunday, downtown appeared eerily deserted. Except for the bike parked in the lot next to the brick building across the street. Which happened to contain the offices for When the Tree Falls, the local newspaper.
“Why three days?”
He didn’t want to think about having to break the law, but he couldn’t pretend he didn’t understand her question, either. “It’s long enough to observe any patterns in the brothers’ lives while still being short enough that the priest shouldn’t kill Zoe.”
On the counter, a portable TV showed the projected path for the tropical depression. At least the storm was weakening, although they’d still have the potential for flooding.
Her hands twisted her napkin. “Your daughter should not have been threatened. I’ll give you all the help I can.”
Faith and trust rang in her statement. Yet he wasn’t sure he had the same confidence in her. He knew little about her life. “Tell me about your family.”
