by Raven Snow
“So you don’t think there’s any truth to that?” asked Rowen. “The cult thing, I mean?”
“As far as my husband being a member, absolutely not. I would have noticed, like I said. As for a cult existing in general, well…” Again, she shrugged. “I wouldn’t really know anything about that. I’ve certainly seen and heard about stranger things in Lainswich.” She nodded to Rowen and Margo. “Including you two. You two are a couple of Lainswich’s oddities, right? You’re Greensmiths, aren’t you?”
Margo put on a smile. “That’s right.”
“Well, do you two know anything about cults?” asked Janice, like they would know better than she did.
“We’re looking into it now,” said Rowen, making a conscious effort not to take offense to that question. This woman’s husband had just been murdered after all, and it was true that the Greensmith family was one of the stranger things in Lainswich. “This isn’t the first time something like this has happened, though.”
Margo nodded in agreement. “We’ve seen people dress up crime scenes like they had something to do with the occult. This could easily be something like that. I mean, your husband was a dentist. It’s hard to believe a dentist would be mixed up with anything like what was implied by the crime scene.”
Rowen was surprised Margo knew the husband’s background. She had done her research. Rowen had done her homework too, though not as much as she would normally like. For instance, she knew that Edward Waite had been a dentist. She knew he played golf on the weekends and had been on the planning committee for the tricentennial celebration coming up.
“Actually, he got fired from his job,” Janice said, her voice so low it left one wondering if she had said anything at all.
“What?” Now that was something Rowen didn’t know about.
Janice threw a look toward the hallway her son had disappeared down a little while ago. “My husband had his demons,” she continued. “I suppose we all do. He, ah… Well, he was fired about a month ago. The practice he worked at has been quiet about it, which we were all thankful for. He was supposed to go into rehab. There was even talk of him returning to the practice if he cleaned up his act. He just kept pushing it off though. He--” Here, Janice couldn’t help but give a small sob. “I’m sorry.” She groped for a box of tissues on the table next to her.
“It’s all right,” said Margo. “Take your time.”
Janice dabbed at her eyes with the tissue. She sniffled a few times before continuing. “He kept putting it off and putting it off. He didn’t want people to think he had a problem, so he just pretended not to have one. But, I mean, obviously that didn’t work. Meanwhile, his behavior at home was getting worse. I certainly couldn’t put up with it, and it was driving a wedge between my son and I. I had to put my foot down, so I left.”
“Good for you,” said Margo.
“I don’t know anymore,” said Janice, her gaze moving to the window. “Now I’m hearing about how he was trying to sell some story to Channel 2. He had all this info on a cult, and… It all seems so ridiculous. I knew my husband. He wasn’t that sort of man. Though… I don’t know. It is a bit scary, isn’t it? I mean, something clearly happened there.”
Rowen nodded. It felt to her like the crime scene was left as some sort of message. There had been a different feel about it. There was a particular, uneasy sort of atmosphere in this house now.
I don’t like this place, said the familiar, disembodied voice of Nicole. It seemed she had gathered up enough energy from her last temper tantrum to come and annoy Rowen again. Margo flinched, an innocent bystander caught in the noisy crossfire of Rowen’s past mistakes.
Rowen did her very best to ignore Nicole. There wasn’t much else to do. Nicole preferred to be answered out loud. It was something she couldn’t exactly do at the moment without looking like a bad woman. “Do you suppose he knew someone who was in the cult?” she asked. You can wait outside, she thought to Nicole, hoping she would take her up on that and not be offended. She really should have known better.
Oh, I’ll wait right here with you, thank you very much, said Nicole.
“I’ve been thinking about that a lot, actually,” said Janice. “We have mostly the same friends. You know. Couples you go places with and have cookouts with. That sort of thing. I mean, those folks are as white bread as they come. He did have some friends I didn’t see much. There were fellow dentists and some guys he played golf with. I’m not sure if they were very close. They just played golf together and had the occasional card game. Guy stuff.”
Rowen did her best to listen to Janice over the sound of Natalie prattling on endlessly about how she would leave only when she was good and ready. “Does your husband have any family?” Rowen hadn’t seen any listed as living when she had looked the man up, but it didn’t hurt to ask.
“Not really. He was an only child. His parents passed away years ago. I think he has some second or third cousins, but I don’t know anything about that. I wouldn’t be surprised if they lived on the other end of the country.” Janice looked at Margo. Her brows came together, and her thin lips made a frown. “Are you all right?”
Rowen looked at her cousin. Margo was leaning against one arm of the sofa, her head in her hand. It seemed she was faring less well against Natalie’s constant prattling. She wasn’t as used to it as Rowen was. “I’m fine,” said Margo. “Just a sudden migraine.”
“Oh.” Janice moved to the edge of the chair like she was about to get up. “I can go get you something. I’m sure I have—”
“No, it’s fine.” Margo stood, something that Rowen hadn’t been prepared for. “We should actually be going anyway. I have something in the car.”
Janice stood. “Okay,” she said with the kind of tone and expression that implied she was surprised they were leaving so soon but not at all mad about it.
Rowen packed up her recorder, exchanging a few words with Janice on her way out the door. “Do you think I can get your number? Just in case we have some follow-up questions. Don’t want to keep barging in on you.”
Janice gave Rowen her number with obvious reluctance. She exchanged some rushed goodbyes before shutting the door on them with a smile. “Well, that could have gone better,” Rowen said as they turned. “Could have gone a lot worse considering she didn’t want to see us at all, but it could have gone better.”
“You need to do something about that thing,” Margo gave a general wave around her head.
It took Rowen a moment to realize that her cousin was talking about Natalie. She had nearly tuned her out. It was something that she had gotten a lot of practice with in recent weeks. “Sorry,” said Rowen without really meaning it. “What am I supposed to do? Go chew out her poor bereaved sister?”
“Yes!”
Yes! exclaimed Natalie at the same time.
Rowen waited until they were both in the car before continuing. “If you want to do it, by all means.”
“I’m not the one who promised her all of that. You really need to just do it. Get it over with.”
Listen to this kind, well-dressed woman. Your cousin is talking sense.
“Forget about that for a second.” Rowen was sure that actively encouraging Margo to tune out Natalie was only going to annoy the both of them more, but she didn’t much care. She nodded to the house across the street, the one they had just come from. “What did you think of that place?”
Margo shrugged. “It’s a nice house. Do you think they’re going to sell it? Maybe we can get it cheap since a murder just happened there.”
“We?” Rowen studied her cousin’s expression, something that seemed to make her feel self-conscious enough to abruptly look away. “What? You’re thinking of moving out with Jasper Stonewall? Are you serious?”
“No,” she snapped, looking out the passenger side window so that Rowen couldn’t see her expression. “I was using the royal ‘we.’ What? You think Jasper would move out with me?” She scoffed. “Like he would ever be brave enough to
move out of his parent’s house… Though, I guess he would inherit it after they die. It is a really nice house.”
“Do you think you like Jasper enough to wait for his parents to die?” asked Rowen, feeling the muscles around her mouth twitch as she struggled to maintain a straight face.
“Shut up,” grumbled Margo. She looked past Rowen and at the house again. “People get murdered enough around here that it probably wouldn’t hurt the resale value anyway.”
“I hate to break it to you, but I’m not sure you could afford a place like that even if it did. I know how much you make, and I know you spend almost all of it on clothes.”
Margo arched an over-plucked brow. “That you think all of this is the product of just a good wardrobe is why you look the way you do.”
“Like a home owner?”
“Oh, please. Don’t act like you earned it. You lucked out and married a rich guy.”
“Ouch.” Rowen winced. “That’s fair.” Eric wasn’t so rich anymore, but there was no denying that he had been when they were first married. That was the only reason they were sharing a house now and not a single cramped room in the attic of the Greensmith house. She pointed back to the Waite house. “Aside from maybe wanting to live there, what did you think of the place?”
“I didn’t like it.” The statement was at odds with what Margo had just said. She seemed to realize that as soon as she had finished her sentence. “I mean, I like it. It’s just… I would need to clear some of the bad energy out of that house. It didn’t feel right. That place is heavy with… horribleness. It’s even worse than when we were last here.”
“That might have something to do with the family coming back. I mean, they must have all sorts of emotions about this. It sounds like the relationship was complicated. That can stir up some nasty energy.” It seemed to Rowen that the impressions people left behind were always twice as powerful when they were conflicted about something. It was like they used up so much energy arguing with themselves that it couldn’t help but seep into the walls and bones of a place. “What did you think about those two?”
“You mean, do I think they were cultists?” asked Margo, smirking. It seemed like it was much easier for her to hold a conversation now. Natalie had grown quiet. Maybe she was interested in gossip that involved cults. “I dunno. I don’t think the wife is all that torn up about it. I think that bothers her. She isn’t as upset about her husband being murdered as she feels like she ought to be.” Margo frowned like something had just occurred to her. “Granted, she didn’t seem all that nervous either. Right? She seemed kinda nervous, but not really. Like, the idea of a cult didn’t actually scare her. Did you get that?”
Rowen glanced back at the house, still not pulling away just yet. “Yeah, I think I know what you mean. You can’t really control how a person feels about stuff, though.”
“I guess.”
“Do you think she knows anything about who might have done it?”
“Hmm.” Margo pressed her lips together. It was an exaggerated sound, like she was on stage and not in a too hot car across from an actual murder scene. “Maybe she was having an affair. Maybe she tried to take up golfing to be closer to her husband and ended up falling for her instructor instead. Together they cooked up the whole cult thing, and… No, wait. Never mind. That doesn’t make sense.”
Rowen rolled her eyes. “No, it doesn’t. Good try, though. Good theory.”
“Thanks.” Margo either missed Rowen’s sarcasm or willfully ignored it. “Why would he go to Channel 2 with that kind of story?”
“What did you think of the kid?” asked Rowen, changing the subject. “What was his name? Lucas?”
Margo nodded. “Yeah, Lucas.” She raised her shoulders in a shrug, not even pausing to give the question much thought. “I dunno. He seemed like an average teenager to me.”
“Really?” Rowen thought back to the kid’s clothes and all the holes that had been in his face. “That’s your idea of average?”
Margo shrugged. “I mean, I guess my high school experience was just different than yours.”
“Oh, please. Your ‘high school experience’ was a decade and a half ago. And I know you didn’t hang out with kids like that.”
“Well, that’s what’s in now.”
“You’re just saying that.” Rowen was fairly sure fashion as aggressive as Lucas’ had always been what one would call alternative. Whether it was to ostracize himself from others or fit in was what remained to be seen. Rowen was willing to guess it was a bit of both. The kid probably had a clique of friends. Whether or not they were the sort of teens who were capable of murder was up for debate. You heard about that sort of thing on the news sometimes, stupid teenagers killing someone in a misguided attempt at ritual magic.
I know something, Natalie announced suddenly.
Margo jumped. Rowen took a deep breath. “What do you know?” she asked, more to get the question out of the way than out of actual curiosity.
I know who the murderer is, Natalie said. Her energy thrummed with pride.
Margo’s eyes grew large. “You do?”
I do, said Natalie. I’ll tell you on one condition.
Clearly, Margo already knew what that condition was. She punched Rowen in the arm. “Just do what she wants already.”
“Ignore her.” Rowen started the engine and pulled away from the curb. “She always says stuff like this. She doesn’t know anything.”
I do too, snapped Natalie. I’m non-corporeal. I can fly through walls. I can see everything.
“Have you ever asked for her help since you didn’t make good on your promise to her?” asked Margo.
She has not.
“And why would I?” Rowen snapped at the both of them. “She’d say anything to get me to go chew out her sister. And, even if she did know something, why would she have any reason to stick around and tell us the truth after I did what she wanted?”
So rude.
“Well, it seems like it’s worth a try,” said Margo. “I mean, what’s the worst that can happen? Natalie leaves? You want that to happen anyway.”
“The worst thing that can happen is Natalie’s sister has me arrested for harassment.” Rowen turned on the radio as soon as she had finished speaking. When Natalie started to argue, she turned it up. She was done talking about this. At least for now. There was somewhere else she wanted to go.
Chapter Eight
“I hope we don’t get in,” said Margo peering over the tops of her sunglasses at the clock on the dash. It was one in the afternoon now. It had been at least an hour since Rowen had called in a favor. Rowen regretted not asking for an ETA on that favor. Maybe they could have grabbed lunch. Ugh. Now she regretted not snagging one of those donuts Rory had bought. Also, the car was parked illegally. There was that. The engine had been idling while they waited outside of the Lainswich Country Club. Its big metal gates didn’t let them pull into the spacious parking lot beyond. Rowen was left to pop two tires up onto a curb again and hope no one came by to tell them to move along. Fortunately, there wasn’t much through traffic.
“You’re really not dressed to get in,” Margo said when Rowen didn’t respond to her first comment.
Rowen had heard that already. Twice. “That doesn’t matter,” she told her again.
“How can you say that? Of course it matters what you look like at a place like this. They’ll never let you back again if you waltz in looking like a hobo.”
“With any luck I’ll never have to come back to a place like this.” Rowen had never seen the appeal of games like golf. “Seems boring.”
“Of course it would to you,” Margo muttered. “I need to keep my reputation here pristine for when I come with Jasper.”
Rowen tapped the steering wheel idly a few more times before what Margo had said caught up with her thoughts. “Wait. Does Jasper have a membership here?”
Margo didn’t answer. Instead, she seemed to be busy fishing a granola bar out of her oversized purs
e. She sat it in her lap and pulled out an undoubtedly warm bottle of water next.
“Margo, does Jasper have a membership here?” Rowen asked again with a little more urgency. Margo took a bite of her granola bar and shrugged. Rowen swore. “We could have been in there by now! Why are you making this so complicated?”
“Because going in there is pointless,” Margo said, calmly. “I don’t see why we have to do things your way. Your idea is dumb. We could get way more answers if we worked with Natalie. I’m just saying… Also, I don’t want you to embarrass me in there.”
Rowen groaned. Why did she take Margo anywhere? “Do you at least have another granola bar?”
“No.”
“Can I have half of that one?”
Margo scoffed before taking another big bite. At least Rowen wouldn’t have to wait much longer for lunch. Her eyes went to the rearview mirror as a sleek black car came up behind them. It turned and stopped at the gate. They had seen a few cars get past the gates, but Rowen had a good feeling about this one. Still, she waited until the door had opened and the driver stepped out before doing anything.
Lucy Odele stood beside her car, a statuesque fashionista. She looked like an aged starlet from Hollywood in her black dress and sunglasses. There was a broad sun hat over her bright dye-red hair and a long cigarette holder between her gloved fingers. Rowen bet this was the sort of woman Margo wanted to be when she grew up. Proving her theory, Margo hastily swallowed what was in her mouth. She threw the rest of the granola bar in Rowen’s lap as she pulled down the mirror to check her lipstick.
Rowen opened the driver’s side door and stepped out. She looked both ways then stepped out across the road, taking a bite of the granola bar as she went. Lucy’s eyes moved up and down her, taking her in. Her lips made a thin line. Like Margo, she disapproved. “I’m the kindly old woman letting Lainswich’s homeless sample the lives of the rich and glamorous today, am I?”
