Wild Secrets (A Wilder Witch Mystery Book 3)

by Jade Wolfe

  He hesitated, then pulled the drawer from the box and emptied it onto the island, cupping a hand so that nothing rolled away. When it was all glinting on the counter, it looked even more knotted than before.

  Dante glanced up at me, then to Sage, who nodded at him.

  I held my breath, wondering if he was going to be able to do this, or if Sage was losing her marbles. It was possible. She was in her eighties – and dead.

  Chapter Seven

  I spotted the necklace she wanted immediately. It was a small circle, no bigger than a quarter, with all of the runes carved into it. “You want me to wear that when I cast the runes?” I asked.

  “Yep. The rest of the time, too, for protection. It makes a good talisman.”

  “Why didn’t you give it to me before? I could have used it.”

  She shrugged again. That was getting annoying. “I didn’t think about it. Get it untangled, Dante.”

  He took a deep breath and stared at the mess. “Can I just read the spell?”

  She flapped a hand. “Read it, sing it, do it in interpretive dance if you want. Your intent is what matters, so you’ll need to focus.” She turned to me and said, “You should go into the other room. He can’t concentrate with you here.”

  I turned and went reluctantly, leaving them to it.

  Two minutes later I heard my dad’s voice. “What on earth are you two doing?” he yelled. There was a note of offense in his voice. I ran back in.

  He was plastered against the refrigerator, staring hard at the island. A small garden snake was slithering off the butcher block top into the floor.

  Sage was laughing so hard she kept fading from sight. “The spell said like a snake, not with a snake,” she gasped, leaning on the bar and holding her sides.

  “He startled me,” Dante protested, lunging for the snake in the floor and catching it before it disappeared under the stove. “I know what it said.”

  He got a good grip on the creature and carried it gingerly to the door. When he bent down to turn it loose, my dad yelled, “Don’t you dare. Take it farther to the back. To the woods.”

  Dante disappeared and the door slammed behind him.

  Dad glared at me and Sage. “Why is he doing magic in the kitchen? Why is he doing magic at all?”

  I shrugged and pointed at Sage. Dad didn’t bother asking her. He just shook his head and went back outside, presumably to his workshop, where it was snake free.

  When Dante came back we repeated the whole process – me in the living room, he and Sage in the kitchen. This time I listened more closely and I could hear Dante’s voice murmuring. After a few moments he said, “Hah! It worked!”

  I went back into the kitchen. He was right – it had worked. The necklaces were all laid out in neat lines, the rings were stacked neatly. The broaches sparkled prettily in the afternoon sunshine from the windows.

  “Good for you,” Sage said, with a hint of actual admiration in her voice. “You’re stronger than I thought.” She motioned me over and pointed out the necklace. “Put that one on and keep it on.”

  I did as she told me and felt the familiar swirl of tingling dizziness in my head, just like when I drank the tea. I went back to the runes, put them into the bag and pulled out three. Same ones. Next came the familiar clicking into place of the meanings. Then my mouth and brain took over, my words tumbling out as I touched each rune. Words and images danced through my mind, sweeping me along as I watched. It was amazing, the way the information just sort of bubbled up inside me, effortlessly revealing the correct interpretation.

  The first rune looked like an X between two poles. “Mannaz,” I breathed. The words came through me, deliberate and sure, but not from me. “Man. Selfish.”

  I could hear Dante scribbling. I touched the second rune. It looked like a lopsided X. “Hagal. Needs...delays.”

  My mouth was dry, and I gripped the edge of the kitchen island for support. I felt like my knees were giving out. Almost done. “Elhaz. Protection. Lock. Lock.” The last word ripped from my mouth, settling as a pressure in my mind as it did.

  The necklace, cold and heavy on my skin before, now seemed to glow hot across my collarbones. I lifted a hand to it, but didn’t take it off.

  I bent at the waist and put my head against the cool countertop with a small moan. A moment later, Dante was pushing a bar stool under me and helping me to sit. “You all right?” he asked.

  “If the rest of the world just tilted to the left, I’m fine,” I murmured. “If not...then, no.”

  “I’ll get you some water.” He disappeared. I didn’t want to sit up, didn’t want to move at all, but by the time he handed me a glass and I drank down the cold water, I was recovered enough to be curious about the runes. “What have we got?”

  “It’s interesting,” Dante said, sliding a piece of paper my way. “Especially that last one - you almost yelled the answer.”

  “It felt like I needed to yell it,” I said, remembering. “I think it’s important.”

  The words were dark against the white paper, sharp in Dante’s forceful handwriting. “Selfish. Delays. Lock.” I looked up at him. “Do these mean anything to you?”

  He shook his head. “Not specifically. Selfish - that could point to Bess or Lavinia.”

  “What about Pete?” I asked. For some reason, I didn’t feel like we should leave him out, even though Dante seemed to disagree.

  Dante shrugged. “He’s losing his job - how does that translate to selfishness?”

  I shook my head. It didn’t. “Delays.” I looked up. “Lavinia said he’d been promising to retire forever. She was upset that he hadn’t done it yet. That’s a delay.”

  “True.” He looked thoughtful. “I need to talk to both of these ladies again.”

  “And lock. What does that even mean?” I asked him. “Was someone locked into a relationship they didn’t want? A bad contract?”

  “Any of those could be right.” He looked frustrated. “All I could think of when you said that, is the fact that the library’s rear door was unlocked.”

  “Is that important?”

  “Everything is important, at this point.”

  I plucked the runes off the counter and put them back in their bag. It made me nervous to leave them out. “Maybe these things just aren’t any help this time,” I said. “I’m going to the hospital to see Bill. You want to come?”

  “He’s asleep,” Sage said.

  Either I was getting used to her, or she was losing her touch. I didn’t even jump this time. Well, not as much. “Did you go see him?”

  “Yes. I wanted to ask him about that Bess woman.”

  “Sage! You would have scared that poor man to death.”

  “Oh,” she said, as if I hadn’t even spoken. “Your buddy Jasper is in the web - I felt him.”

  “You...felt him?” I didn’t remember her mentioning that before.

  “Yes. He’s a determined little cuss. Very indignant about being dead. Not that I blame him. I was at first too, you know.”

  I didn’t know that, but it was easy to imagine. I pointed to the list of runes. “Do these mean anything to you?”

  I looked up at her, but she was already gone. I shook my head and grabbed Dante’s pad and pen from his side of the bar.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “I just want to keep a copy of these,” I explained. “Maybe something will come to me.”

  He frowned. “If something does come to you, call me. Don’t go chasing the bad guys alone anymore, all right?”

  I smiled. “I’ll try. Right now I’m going to get a can of stain from the hardware store and then visit Bill.”

  He sighed. “All right. I’m going to call Bess in for another interview. Stay away from her, Clover. If she really is the one who hurt Bill, I don’t want you near her.”

  I put my hand on my heart. “Aww! You care!”

  “I promised your dad,” he muttered. I stuck my tongue out at him, then watched him leav
e.

  Twenty minutes later I was in town. I hadn’t realized how late it was getting, and I had ten minutes until the hardware store closed.

  Missy Chambers looked up and smiled when I came through the door. “You just made it, Clover.”

  “I know - I’m sorry. I promise I only need one thing.” I swept past her and went to the rear aisle, where she kept buckets of paint and stain.

  The whole area was a riot of color. I scanned the bucket labels for the mahogany I needed, but then a pretty pale blue caught my eye. It would be perfect in the carriage house. I wondered if two gallons would do it. I decided that it would, then grabbed a couple of gallons of primer, too.

  Beside the blue I found a cream that would really brighten up the stairway in the main house. The paint in there was yellowing with age, and I’d been meaning to repaint it, anyway. I figured I might as well grab it, while I was here.

  Wait - how many gallons of the cream did Missy have? I could use the same color in the dining room... I pulled four more gallons from the shelf and stacked them on top of the others.

  I was getting primer when Missy cleared her throat behind me. I spun around, almost dropping a gallon jug on my foot. “You said one thing, hon.”

  I looked down, realizing how long I had been standing here. “Oh, Missy. I’m so sorry. I completely got sidetracked.” I felt terrible. “If you’ll help me, I’ll grab these and come back tomorrow for the rest.”

  By the time we got my truck loaded up and my bill paid, it was getting dark.

  “Come early next time,” Missy said with a laugh.

  “I promise I will,” I said, then got in the truck and pulled out of the lot.

  Was it too late to go to the hospital? I was afraid it was, but I had to try anyway. Maybe Bill was awake and felt like talking.

  As it turned out it wasn’t too late, and Bill was awake. He just wasn’t alone.

  I knocked lightly and stepped inside his room, announcing myself softly just so I didn’t startle him. After all, he had just been attacked. He might be feeling a little jumpy. His room was lit by a single lamp in the corner, and the television played softly on the wall across from his bed. He gave me a smile when he saw me, but there wasn’t much energy in it. I walked to the side of the bed, and that was when I saw Lavinia in the corner.

  “Oh,” I said.

  “Hello.” She was wearing a long pale colored dress. She sat up straighter when she saw me.

  “I’m surprised to see you here,” I said. “Do you and Bill know each other?”

  I knew they didn’t, and something about this whole thing was setting off warning bells in my head. Why was she here, hanging out with a stranger in a hospital? Was she bothering Bill? I looked at him, but he didn’t seem upset. He patted the edge of his bed. “Come on in. We were just talking.”

  “I can come back, if I’m interrupting...” I started, but he waved the words away.

  “Lavinia here just came to make sure I was all right, after all the drama this afternoon,” he explained.

  “Oh.” I looked at her and she shrugged.

  Her smile was rueful. “I feel a little responsible,” she said. “None of this would have happened if I had put my foot down when Jasper wanted to stop here.”

  “Well, I’m sure you didn’t know what would happen.”

  “No, but now that it has happened, Jasper is gone, Bess is running around attacking people, and poor Bill here got caught in the crossfire.” She looked genuinely sorry.

  “Yes, that is a shame.” I shuffled my feet. I wasn’t sure what to do here - sit with Bill? Leave them alone? I didn’t want to ask him questions while she was here. “I’m sure no one blames you.”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “I grew up in a small town,” she said, “A lot like this one, actually. Everyone has to blame someone, and I’m a stranger here.”

  I acknowledged that with a nod, but nothing more. She was probably right, but saying so felt wrong. If I agreed with her, would she then consider me an ally? I wasn’t her ally - as far as I was concerned, she was one of the murder suspects. Not at the top of the list, but close. Bess, of course, was at the top. If she was capable of assaulting an old man for a book, she might be just as capable of murder.

  Chapter Eight

  I sank gingerly to the edge of Bill’s bed. The hospital room was cool, but not so cool that it caused the shiver that ran down my spine when I looked over and met Lavinia’s eyes. Her gaze was steady, and there was a hint of a smile on her lips.

  “What do you know about Bess?” I asked her.

  She shifted in her chair, uncrossed and recrossed her legs. The tan slacks she wore looked expensive. “Not as much as I should,” she said. “Jasper plucked her from some college class on his lecture circuit a couple of years ago, saying that she had the type of analytical mind he needed to critique his manuscripts before they went to a publisher.” She rolled her eyes. “I got one look at that red hair and baby face and knew that her mind had nothing to do with her employment.”

  She shook her head, and there was that rueful smile again.

  “She couldn’t have been very old,” I said.

  “No - she was a sophomore in college somewhere out west - so maybe nineteen or twenty?”

  “Wow. And you think she had the guts to murder her meal ticket?”

  Lavinia paused, considering the question.

  Even as I asked, I watched her expression. Was she lying? She could have killed Jasper just as easily as Bess or anyone else, and what had Pete Shoemaker told Dante? That she needed Jasper’s money for some program? Would she have killed over that? Or would she have killed in anger because he said no? Either of those motives worked.

  “I honestly don’t know,” she answered finally. “On the one hand, she was...enamored...with Jasper. God only knows why. On the other hand, maybe he promised her things that he didn’t deliver.”

  “Like what?” Bill asked. He stroked his moustache.

  She shrugged. “Maybe he told her that he would leave me and be with her. Maybe he promised her money. Our holdings are sizable, and he would have gotten half in a divorce, but then he would have been homeless, because the house is mine.”

  “So you think she really loved him?”

  “I do, but I also think he was too old for her.” Lavinia uncrossed her legs and leaned forward. “She was sleeping with Pete, too, you know.”

  Well, this was new. “No,” I said slowly. “I didn’t know that.”

  “Really? I thought your detective boyfriend would have mentioned it.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” I said absently. I was thinking of our rune clues from earlier.

  Selfish. Delays. Lock. None of those spoke to a crime of passion, but there was definitely a lot of sneaking around going on with these people. If Bess was sleeping with both Jasper and Pete, there was a whole basket of motives there. Maybe Pete was jealous of Jasper.

  Maybe Bess wanted free of her relationship with the author. I looked up. “I thought you said she was in love with Jasper?”

  Lavinia nodded.

  “Then why would she be sleeping with Pete?”

  “I told you - Jasper was old. And I don’t know if you know it, but a woman can sleep with a man without being in love.” Her voice was derisive. “She is gorgeous, so she has her pick of men. Who knows? Maybe she was hedging her bets in case the fling with Jasper didn’t work out. Maybe she’s a selfish little tramp. Maybe -.”

  I held up a hand to stop her, because the more she talked the angrier she looked. “I get it.”

  Something wasn’t adding up here, but it kept slipping out of my thought before I could get a handle on what it was, exactly. Her words sounded right, but there was something missing.

  If Bess was sleeping with both Jasper and Pete, then either she or Pete could have murdered him. Either of them would have known where Jasper was that morning, either of them had a motive, and since he was killed by the dictionary laying right there in the room, either of
them could have done it.

  After chatting with Bill for a few minutes and promising to look in on his store until he got out of the hospital, I said my goodbyes and left for home. As I drove through town, I glanced over at the library. It was enormous and brooding, as if it wouldn’t rest until the mystery was solved. “I’m working on it,” I muttered.

  It was well after dark by the time I pulled into the driveway, and I still couldn’t figure out what piece of the puzzle I was missing. I honked the horn until Jason came out of the house and got his help carrying my many unexpected gallons of paint to the garage.

  Dad stood in the driveway and watched us carry them in with a knowing look on his face.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You, dear girl, are asking for trouble,” he answered, eyeing the paint cans dangling from my hands.

  “What kind of trouble?”

  “Well, first of all, this house is too big for one person to paint. Second, do you really think Sage is going to leave you alone? She doesn’t think anything should be changed, you know.”

  I sighed. “I know, but she’s just going to have to get used to it. This place is depressing.”

  “Well, good luck.” He turned and went toward his workshop.

  “Thanks a lot,” I called after him. He was right, and I knew it, but if I was going to stay here I needed to change things up. The house, for all my cleaning and brightening, still looked a lot like an eighty year old woman lived here.

  It was long after supper, in the shower, that I realized what struck me as wrong when I was talking to Lavinia earlier.

  I had already phoned Dante to relay this new information to him. He was glad for the heads’ up, but he hadn’t been happy about my activities.

  “Well, it wasn’t like I found her on purpose and questioned her,” I said. “I went to visit Bill and she was just...there.”

  “How do you do that? How do you just show up when things are happening?” He was trying to sound grumpy, but I could hear a certain amount of admiration in his voice. I smirked.

  “I don’t know. It’s a curse.”