∞
Picking out a car for Gretchel had been easy. The black Mercedes sedan Eli had chosen was perfect—luxurious, but low-key. When Eli went to the dealership office to do the paperwork and complete the sale, Ame had been staring at a snappy little S12. She was still staring at it when he was done. After another half hour of staring, she gave in. She agreed to let Eli buy it for her. He knew Gretchel would be pissed, but he also knew that she would get over it. Nothing’s unforgivable, Eli thought to himself as Ame rolled down the window of the sports car and waved, And at least we aren’t getting baked in the barn.
“Beat you home,” Ame taunted.
“Take it easy. This isn’t a toy,” he lectured. And then he smiled. Home. It was nice to have a new place to call home. It was his home. He had never felt so at home anywhere in his life, except for the house on Pringle Street maybe, but that was only when he was a kid, and, later, when Gretchel was there. That was the key. Gretchel was home to him now. If he could get Gretchel’s son back, they’d all be one big happy family. He seriously couldn’t wait.
He hopped in the new car and decided it was time to turn his cell phone back on. He had given Gretchel, her mother, and Marcus his number in case of a Gretchel-esque emergency. This was the first time he had turned it on since he had gotten to Irvine. There was nobody in the world that he wanted to speak to at that moment. Except maybe Andy or his dad, but neither of them was big on phone conversations, either. The only person who called him with any regularity was his mother, and he sure wasn’t ready to talk to her.
He winced when he saw how many messages he had waiting for him. Most of them from his mother.
He took a deep breath, put his mobile on speakerphone, and prepared himself for a miserable ride back to Irvine.
The first message was cheerful enough. Hello my darling son. Just checking in. Haven’t heard from you in a while. Call me. The next message was classic Diana. Eli! I have to talk to you. I’ve had a very vivid dream about the prophecy. You must call me.
I can’t find your father. If you’ve seen him or heard from him, call me. There was nothing strange about Peter disappearing for a spell. Eli knew it, and Diana knew it. She was just trying to bait him.
Eli! Your father just came stumbling into the house covered in mud and blood. I know that doesn’t seem entirely out of character, but there is something wrong with him. He had a bad trip out in the woods, and he’s not making any sense. Not making sense wasn’t entirely out of character either… But having a bad trip was. Eli checked the time stamp. His mother had called the same night that the Woman in Wool had returned to Snyder Farms. Eli didn’t know what to make of that, but he didn’t like it.
Eli! Turn your goddamn phone on! And, with that, everything was back to normal. “Turn your goddamn phone on!” was his mother’s most oft-uttered message. Eli got a perverse kick out of its paradoxical nature—it was an order that would never be delivered as long as he refused to turn his goddamn phone on.
Eli! I love you, and I don’t want you to get hurt again. Please, please call me back. Hmmm… Diana clearly had some suspicions of his whereabouts, but, there was no way she’d be this sweet if she knew for sure.
Eli! You’ve made a horrible mistake! This will not end well! Somebody is going to get hurt. Somebody may die. Please call me. Dad had spilled the beans, evidently. Well, that was bound to happen sooner or later. As for the dramatic prediction, Eli had grown quite used to ignoring his mother’s occult pronouncements.
Eli was preparing himself for more maternal insanity when he heard Andy’s welcome voice. Hey man. Just checking in. Haven’t heard from you, so I’m assuming you’re in Illinois. Hope you’re finding adventure and trouble around every corner. Call me if you can.
The next voice was not so welcome. Dating Rebecca had been a mistake, just like dating anybody after Gretchel had been a mistake. Uh, hi, Eli. Not sure where you’re at. Your Mom’s looking for you. She sounds worried. And pissed. Call me if you want, or just... whatever.
Eli decided to delete the rest of his messages from his mother without listening to them. He had had enough of her for one day. She was an obsessive, controlling bummer. Yes, he loved her, but she was an obsessive, controlling bummer nonetheless.
There was one message left. It was from Gretchel. He fumbled with the phone screen, terrified that something was wrong.
Hello, Hermes. I’m calling to thank you for getting me out of the house. You were right. I needed it. And thank you for the presents, especially the signed edition of Graham Duncan’s latest book. Ame will be in awe. And, yes, I think I will be wearing one of the presents when you get home, but hopefully not too long. I’m looking forward to...
Eli’s face grew hot as he listened to the rest of Gretchel’s message. His mother could call with dire prophecies all she wanted. she could send bodyguards after him again. There was no way he was leaving this woman again. No way in hell.
CHAPTER FIVE
Irvine, 2010s
Like naughty children startled by their teacher’s return to the classroom, the employees of Sunset Automotive spit out their gum, put down their cell phones, and stopped rehashing last night’s game. They all did their best to look busy, keeping their heads down, desperately hoping to avoid notice.
It was the same routine every time Michelle Brown entered the dealership she had inherited from her father. Her arrival was always unannounced, and her employees were always taken unawares. The smell of fear filled the showroom as the blonde’s sharp heels clicked across the hard, shiny floor.
The salesmen’s nerves jangled as they waited for her to find today’s victim, but she marched passed them as if they weren’t even there, heading straight for her husband’s office. There was a collective exhalation as everyone in the showroom stopped holding his breath.
Cody Brown was at his computer.
“You can’t sell cars sitting on your ass,” Michelle snapped. She slammed the door, generating a gust of wind that blew a stack of papers off a filing cabinet. She let them waft to the floor with no intention of picking them up.
“Do you want this job?” Cody snapped back.
Michelle glared at him.
“I said do you want this job?”
Of course she didn’t want the job.
Running the dealership was supposed to be Troy’s job. That was the whole reason she had seduced him—well, not the whole reason, but a substantial part of it. He was a brilliant salesman, a charismatic manager, and a not-utterly-inadequate lay. But all her plans had been destroyed by a freak accident.
Cody took over after Troy died. He knew the business, but he just wasn’t the man Troy had been. For example, Troy had never expected her to take an active role in the dealership. Cody, despite decades of marriage to Michelle, somehow thought it made sense for her to actually work for the business she owned. She was willing to give her husband a year to figure out how to run the place without her. If he couldn’t, she would just sell the damn thing.
Michelle slammed her oversized clutch onto the desk. She pulled a key ring out of her purse as she sat on the edge of the Cody’s desk, forcing him to move his chair up against the wall.
“Sydney was arguing with a customer at the service desk when I walked in. I really think you need to take care of that.” This was a lie. But Sydney had been at the dealership for over a year, and Michelle was certain she hadn’t quite destroyed his spirit yet. He was expendable, and she needed to get Cody out of the office.
Cody groaned and pushed himself out of his chair. Michelle watched him leave.
As soon as the door shut behind him, she rose and walked to a photo of Troy and her father hanging on the wall. She felt around the frame until she found the catch, and then she opened the safe with a key. She shuffled through some papers until she found what she was looking for.
She shut the safe, stuffed the bundle in her hands into her bag, and click-click-clicked to her own office toward the back of the dealership. She locked t
he door behind her and drew down the blinds on the glass walls that faced the showroom—to the relief of everyone in the building. She opened her bag and pulled out a VHS tape.
She rotated it in her hands. Anxiety and exhilaration bubbled inside her. For months, she’d found one excuse after another to avoid viewing the tape. Troy had insinuated what the footage contained, and Michelle wasn’t entirely sure she could handle it. She knew what she was afraid of, but her redheaded archenemy had been out of sight for awhile now, and Michelle was craving some drama. She almost hated to admit it, but she kind of missed the woman whose hatred fueled her fire.
The slightly muffled chorus of Janet Jackson’s “Nasty” erupted from her handbag. She pulled out her phone, checked the caller, and answered,
“What? So, there’s finally been a sighting? Interesting.” She ended the call and put her phone back in her clutch. Then she opened a locked drawer in her desk, dropped the tape to the bottom, and locked the drawer again. Another day, she thought to herself as she left the office.
Cody stopped her on her way across the showroom. “Are you leaving already?” he asked.
“This place is stressing me out. So much tension in the air! I’m going to get my hair done.”
Click. Click. Click.
CHAPTER SIX
Irvine, 2010s
Gretchel was feeling conflicted. She appreciated everything that Eli was doing for her, and she had loved putting herself in Teddy’s hands again. A weekly salon visit had been part of her life throughout most of her marriage, and she realized that she had missed it. But her husband had never passed up an opportunity to call her a whore, and there was a part of her that believed that there was really no difference between Troy’s money and Eli’s. Maybe she needed to take some time learning how to care for herself.
Yer bum's oot the windy again, lassie. A voice whispered in her mind.
Keep the heid! Dinnae let yon devil’s bride hear yer greetin’.
Gretchel rubbed at her temples as she walked into the lobby of the salon. She had expected the voices to return as soon as Eli left. There were only a few things that silenced them. The amethyst and Eli were the most powerful. Alcohol was the most dangerous.
Gretchel was gazing out the window facing the parking lot when she saw her daughter emerge from a sports car. An Escalade rolled in right next to her. Michelle Brown climbed out.
∞
“Hey, Ame. Long time, no see. Nice ride—although I see it’s not from Sunset. Of course, your mother would never let you shop there.”
Ame was silent as Michelle circled her new car.
“I’m surprised you can afford a car like this. Everybody knows that your father left you broke.” Michelle pretended to think. “Oh, wait, I remember. You’re dating an older man now. Congratulations on finding a sugar daddy.”
Ame thought about punching Michelle, but she considered that her mother’s nemesis might just make up in pure meanness what she lacked in muscle and athleticism.
“I’m a senior in high school. He’s a freshman in college. I don’t think that makes him an ‘older man,’ Michelle, and he’s certainly not a ‘sugar daddy.’” Ame berated herself for even engaging in conversation with this horrible woman.
“He certainly looks like a full-grown man to me. Maybe a professor, not a student? You don’t have to lie to me. I saw you two at the gas station yesterday.”
Ame had no idea what Michelle was talking about. She hadn’t seen Peyton for days. “What do you mean you saw him?”
“I see everything, and he’s the choicest piece of man to walk into town since your father first came here.”
Realization dawned on Ame, and it made her want to puke. Michelle was poison, and it was stupid to keep talking to her, but Ame couldn’t help herself.
“The man you saw is not my boyfriend, and how dare you bring up my father?”
“The guy with the curly hair and the aqua-blue eyes? I just think it’s nice you found someone as freakishly tall as you. Don’t worry, Ame. I won’t tell anyone.”
Ame’s face was mottled red with suppressed rage. “There’s nothing to tell, Michelle. Perhaps you should mind your own damn business.”
Michelle widened her eyes and fanned her face while assuming an expression of horror. “My, my, Ame. Is that any way to speak to an elder—not to mention a social superior?” The older woman stepped close to the teenager and hissed, “Listen, you giant, redheaded witch. I will make your life more miserable than it already is if you don’t watch your mouth.”
Ame didn’t move. “Don’t you think you made my life miserable enough when you started fucking my father?”
Michelle blinked, but she didn’t retreat.
“Michelle.”
Both women were startled by Gretchel’s approach.
“Gretchel!” Michelle’s voice was shrill with an artificial brightness. Then she paused, looking from mother to daughter and back again. “Oh, I get it now… The curly-haired hunk is your boyfriend, Gretchel. You didn’t waste much time, did you? But I guess you never did.”
Gretchel said nothing.
Confident that she had done enough damage for one day, Michelle smiled, waved, and fairly skipped across the parking lot towards the salon.
Gretchel looked at her daughter. “Michelle’s only provoking you to get to me, Ame. Just leave her alone.”
“I could, if you would fight your own battles,” Ame retorted as she climbed back into her car. “I don’t know why you didn’t teach that bitch a lesson a long time ago.”
Gretchel was quiet. She knew why. She knew exactly why.
∞
The ride home was alarming.
Ame had sat in her new car and stewed while Teddy finished styling Gretchel’s hair. By the time Gretchel eased into the passenger seat, Ame was furious—and it showed in her driving. The combination of horsepower, adrenaline, and winding country roads left Gretchel fearing for both their lives, but she didn’t feel like she could say anything to her daughter that would help.
But, after Ame had whipped into the driveway and squealed to a stop, Gretchel felt that she would be ignoring her duty as a mother if she didn’t say something. “You aren’t supposed to drive this kind of machine when you’re pissed,” she yelled.
“Are you kidding me?” her daughter replied. “That’s the best time to drive a sports car. Get out, you crazy woman. I’m going to pick up Holly.”
Then Ame’s anger seemed to dissipate all at once. “Listen, Mom, this is my first free weekend in, like, forever. Peyton’s finally coming to Irvine and I really, really want to have a good time. Please don’t fuck it up for me.”
“Watch your mouth, young lady,” Gretchel flared. Kill the psychopomp, she heard in her head.
Ame’s face hardened again as she roared the engine. Gretchel got out and slammed the door. The car sped off, spewing gravel behind it.
“I’m going to kill him for buying that car,” Gretchel mumbled as she walked toward the cottage. “Yes, I will kill him, but first I’ll make him beg for mercy.”
Kill the psychopomp, she heard again.
Eli wasn’t back yet. Gretchel threw her purse and the bags filled with his gifts on the floor.
She tried very hard to pretend that the Woman in Wool had not returned.
She stripped naked and put on the black lingerie that Eli had given her. She could tell from the quality—and the labels—that Eli hadn’t found it anywhere in Irvine. She tried to enjoy the luxury. She tried to look forward to Eli’s return. But the sense that she was just another man’s whore crept along her bare skin.
Well, will ya look at that. Skinny Malinky is at it again.
Like a rabbit.
Ah be missin’ those days of tart’n about.
Aye, the group of voices echoed wistfully.
Ah wisht ah’d had a get-up to make ma bosoms spill out like that.
Ha! What fer? So ye could sook mah dokey?
The voices dissolved into cackling
.
These voices were hardly more welcome than that of the Woman in Wool, but at least they weren’t telling her to kill anyone.
Gretchel considered herself in the full-length mirror. The black lace and silk chiffon didn’t quite conceal all her scars. She moved the fabric back and forth, trying to cover her imperfections. What exactly does Eli see in me?
“That’s a fine question,” the Woman in Wool said quietly. This voice wasn’t coming from inside her head. It was coming from right behind her.
Gretchel wasn’t looking at herself in the mirror anymore. The Woman in Wool stared back at her. Gretchel grabbed the closest heavy object—the new Graham Duncan book—and pummeled the mirror until it shattered. Gasping for breath, she stopped, dropped the book, and leaned her arms against the wall. “Damn you straight to hell!”
“Either you really hated that book, or you didn’t like what you saw in the mirror.” Gretchel turned to see Eli enter the room. He dropped his tattered leather messenger bag on the floor. “I can’t believe that it’s the latter, so I have to assume that it’s the former.” His words were light, but he sounded concerned. Gretchel looked at him, her face wild, and then she looked back to the mirror, where she saw her own image shattered by shards of glass. It seemed appropriate.
“What I saw,” she whispered, close to tears.
Eli walked toward Gretchel and folded her in his arms. His voice was gentle. “Well, I’m glad you like the book, and I hope you like your other presents, too. I bought you a car, by the way.”
He rubbed Gretchel’s back.
“Eli, I have to tell you something,” she started.
“Sounds serious. You usually have better timing than this, Gretchel,” he said. “It can wait, can’t it?”
The Witches of Snyder Farms (The Wicked Garden Series) Page 5
