“And if it doesn’t communicate?”
“Then we’ll have to figure something else out,” I said.
“If this doesn’t work, I’m done,” Aunt Tillie said. “I already missed Jimmy Fallon last night. I’m not missing The Walking Dead tonight.”
I scowled. “Thank you for the encouragement.”
Aunt Tillie was nonplussed. “Let’s get this show on the road.” She extended her hands, Bay and Thistle joining with her – and then me – and focused on the center of the circle. “We call upon the powers of the West. Let us help this spirit on her quest.”
“We call upon the powers of the North,” Thistle intoned. “Let us help this spirit go forth.”
“We call upon the powers of the East,” I said, ignoring the wind as it picked up. “Let us release the overpowering beast.”
Bay pressed her eyes shut. “We call upon the powers of the South,” she said. “Give form. Give solace. Give words to her mouth.”
I arched an eyebrow in Bay’s direction.
“What? I didn’t have time to come up with a good rhyme,” Bay complained. “It’s harder than it sounds.”
“You did fine, baby,” Landon said, scanning the area as the leaves started to rustle. “Just concentrate. I’ve got your back.”
“We all do,” Jack said, moving to the spot next to Landon so they could protect Bay’s vulnerable figure together. “We’re right here.”
It was almost summer, but the leaves on the ground from the previous fall were still present. They started to cycle, taking form in the middle of our circle. They whipped – and whipped – and whipped. The cyclone before us had enough power to toss our hair, but not weaken our resolve.
Bay spoke first. “Marian?”
I detected a hitch in the cyclone. It didn’t last, but it was there. “You made contact.”
Bay nodded. “Marian, we’re not here to hurt you. We want to help. Please, let us help. Talk to us.”
The cyclone continued spinning.
“We want to know how you died,” Thistle said. “We want to put you to rest.”
No change.
“Hey, some of us have television to watch tonight,” Aunt Tillie said. “You’re starting to bore me. Daryl needs me.”
We all shot her angry looks.
“What? It’s a big deal,” Aunt Tillie said. “If Daryl dies, I’m going to start a riot.”
I bit my tongue. She was helping with the spell, but her heart wasn’t really in it. I decided to take a different tactic. “Do you want to know about your children, Marian?”
The cyclone decreased its pace.
“They grew up, you know?” I said, looking to Landon for help. “They were happy. They got married. They had children of their own.”
Landon stepped forward, unsure. He could see the cyclone, but he obviously had no idea if he was helping. “Ava married a soldier,” he said. “He was career military, and he retired last year. They live in Georgia. They had two children. A boy and a girl. Their names are Marian and Scott.”
I nodded encouragingly.
“Raymond married a nurse,” Landon continued. “They live in Florida. They had three children. Two girls and a boy. Dylan is going to college soon. Alice and Madison are both in high school. They’re happy.”
The cyclone stilled some more, and then it spoke. “What about Will?”
I looked to Landon.
“Will is gone,” Landon said, uncertain. “He was convicted of your murder, and he spent thirty years in prison before he died of cancer.”
The cyclone started howling.
Bay furrowed her brow, considering. “Did Will kill you?”
The cyclone wailed.
“We can’t understand you,” Bay said, her voice even. “If you want us to understand, you have to take form. We can help. I promise. Just … please … take form.”
The leaves exploded, causing everyone to duck for cover. We never let go of each other’s hands, and when the dust settled, there was an ethereal form where the cyclone used to be. She was blonde, at least I think she was blonde. The green tint to the mist made it hard to tell, but that was my best guess. Her bone structure was angular and defined, but her face was tortured. Her mouth worked, but no sound would come out.
We waited.
We finally heard noise. It was low, but it was clear. “It wasn’t Will.”
Landon moved closer to Bay. He didn’t touch her, but he was interested. “What happened?”
“We were on vacation,” Marian said.
“Witnesses said you had a nice dinner,” Landon said. “They said you and Will seemed happy. They said there were no signs of unrest.”
“We were happy,” Marian said. “We were … content. We had forever in front of us, and happiness around us.”
“What do you remember?” I asked.
“I had to go to the bathroom,” Marian said. “Will was asleep. The bedrooms didn’t have individual bathrooms then. That’s different now. They were at the end of the hall. When I left the room, Will was asleep.”
“Where were the children?” Landon asked, his hand resting against Bay’s hip.
“They were in the adjacent room,” Marian said. “They looked like angels in the moonlight. They were happy. There was a fair in town that day. They had a good time. I checked on them. They were just so … beautiful.”
We all waited.
“That was the last time I ever saw them,” Marian said. “My last memory of them is … wonderful.”
Landon, ever the investigator, had to press. “What do you remember next?”
“I went down to the bathroom,” Marian said. “Nothing strange happened there. I was on my way back to the room when I heard a noise. People were arguing downstairs. I shouldn’t have gone. I know that now. I should have climbed back into bed with Will and ignored the fight, but it sounded like someone was crying.
“I went to the top of the stairs,” Marian continued. “I followed the voices. It was Dick and Sue.”
I wrinkled my forehead, searching my memory.
“Dick and Sue Warner?” Landon pressed.
“They were the owners,” Marian said. “They were so nice when we arrived. I know now that it was an act.”
“What were they doing?” Landon asked.
“They were fighting,” Marian said. “Sue was crying. She said Dick was a … .”
“Dick?” Aunt Tillie supplied.
Marian nodded. “They fought for a long time. Sue said he was going to get caught, and she couldn’t take it anymore. She said she wouldn’t risk the inn for his … compulsions.”
“What compulsions?” Landon asked.
“He gambled.”
Landon nodded.
“He was in debt,” Marian said. “The inn was in danger.”
“Then what happened?”
“I hid at the top of the stairwell,” Marian said. “I didn’t want them to hear me. He hit her. I covered my mouth so he wouldn’t hear me, but I didn’t walk away. I should have walked away.”
“It’s not your fault,” I soothed. “You couldn’t have known what would happen. You were on vacation.”
“I made a noise,” Marian said. “Sue ran from her husband. I was going to go back to my room, but it was like I was frozen. He found me on the top of the stairs. He followed the noise.”
“He strangled you, didn’t he?” Landon asked, trying to ease her story burden.
Marian nodded. “It didn’t take long. I remember … I remember trying to scream, but no noise would come out. My last thought was of Will. I wondered what he would think when he woke up and I wasn’t there.”
“Did Dick kill you in the inn?” Landon asked.
Marian nodded.
“Do you remember anything about this place?”
Marian shook her head. “Should I?”
“This was where your body was found,” Landon said.
“And Will was convicted of my murder,” Marian finished.
“What happened to Will wasn’t fair,” Landon said. “I can’t make excuses. He’s gone. He’s moved on.”
“You need to move on, too,” Bay said.
“I can’t,” Marian said. “I need … justice.”
‘There’s no justice left to get,” Landon said. “Dick and Sue died twenty years ago. They’re not here.”
“He got away with it,” Marian said, her face pinched with concentration. “He murdered me, and he got away with it.”
“He didn’t get away with it,” I interjected. “He may have, at the time, but karma caught up with him. It always does. If you do good in this world, it will come back to you. He died a hard death. He had cancer, too. He fought, because he was desperate to survive, but all his efforts were in vain. Karma came for him.”
Marian focused on me. “Then why am I still here?”
“Only part of you is,” I said. “The other part of you has moved on. The other part of you is … .”
“With Will,” Bay finished. “He’s waiting for you.”
Marian looked hopeful. “Do you think he’s really waiting for me?”
“I know he is,” I said. “He loved you. He would never have hurt you. He’s waiting for you.”
Marian was conflicted. “Do you promise?”
I was unsure how to answer, so I went with my gut instinct. “When you love someone, they’re always waiting for you. Love transcends everything – even death.”
“I’m tired of being here,” Marian admitted. “I’m tired of … hating.”
“So, don’t hate,” I said. “There’s no one left here to hate. They’ve already been dealt with. You can’t go back in time. It’s impossible.”
“You can go forward, though,” Bay said. “There’s nothing left for you here. Go to Will. Wait for your children. Find … peace.”
“How do I leave?”
Bay shrugged. “I don’t know. You just have to … .”
“Let go,” I finished.
Marian smiled. “Do you really think it will be better … over there?”
“I think he’s just over that ridge,” I said, pointing. “Find him. Love him. Revel in a reunion that’s been decades in the making. Find happiness.”
Marian nodded. “Thank you.”
On either side of me, Thistle and Bay clasped my hands tightly.
“We call upon the power of the four winds,” I said. “Go with honor. Go with peace. Go with the knowledge that we will never forget you, and your story will never be forgotten.”
The leaves started churning again.
“Clove?” Sam was worried, and he was behind me, his hand on my back.
“She’s leaving,” I said.
“Are you sure?”
The leaves exploded, knocking everyone to the ground with the force of abandoned vengeance – and longing. “I’m sure.”
“Holy crap,” Dad said, laughing. “That was … amazing.”
It wasn’t the best of all worlds, but it was the best of Marian’s world. Life moves on. Ghosts find peace. And witches?
“I’m hungry,” Aunt Tillie announced. “I need some food before The Walking Dead. Come on.” She snapped her fingers. “Someone needs to give me some chocolate cake.”
Well, witches find their own form of happiness. Hey, chocolate cake does sound good.
Author’s Note
I want to thank everyone who takes the time to read my novels. I have a particular brand of humor that isn’t for everyone – and I know that.
If you liked the book, please take a few minutes and leave a review. An independent author does it all on their own, and the reviews are helpful. I understand that my characters aren’t for everyone, though. There’s a lot of snark and sarcasm in my world – and I know some people don’t like that..
Special thanks go out to Heidi Bitsoli and Donna Rich for correcting the (numerous) errors that creep into a work of fiction.
If you’re interested in my future works, follow me on Facebook, Twitter or join my mailing list. I do not believe in spam. I only announce new releases or free promotions.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review.
Books by Amanda M. Lee
Avery Shaw Mysteries
Who, What, Where, When, Die
If it Bleeds, it Leads
Buried Leads
Shot off the Presses
The Preditorial Page
Misquoted & Demoted (February 2015)
Headlines & Deadlines (Summer 2015)
Covenant College Mysteries
Awakening (Book One)
Whispering (Book Two)
Conjuring (Book Three)
Waxing & Waning (Book Four)
Graduating (Book Five)
Wicked Witches of the Midwest Mysteries
Any Witch Way You Can
Every Witch Way But Wicked
Witching You Were Here
Witching on a Star
Something to Witch About
Careful What You Witch For (A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Short)
Wicked Brew (A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Short)
Witch Me Luck (Summer 2015)
On a Witch and a Prayer (July 2015)
Aisling Grimlock
Grim Tidings (Book One)
Grim Offerings (Book Two) Spring 2015
Careful What You Witch For Page 8
