by Cadie Snow
Bookkeeping would have to wait. She called her sister Olivia, who ran a bed and breakfast, known simply as Sanders Bed & Breakfast. She was the middle sister, and in her business often heard things before anyone else. “Jaime, how are you?”
“I could be better,” Jaime said. “Listen…have you heard anything about Aunt Iris?”
“Like what?”
“You know, any rumors or anything? Or did she happen to mention to you where she was going?”
“No, she didn’t,” Olivia said. “Why are you asking me that? Has something happened?”
“That’s what I’d like to find out.” Jaime told Olivia about the dream she’d had, then about being unable to contact their aunt.
“That’s not too suspicious,” Olivia said. “We both know that Iris socializes incessantly. Most likely, she’s with a friend.”
“And if she’s not?”
Olivia didn’t say anything.
“You’re usually the first to know anything, since you always have a full house over there—between tourists and locals,” Jaime said. “That’s why I called. But if you don’t know, then I’m worried.”
“I’ll call Harper and we’ll meet at the café for lunch. We’ll get this figured out.”
Jaime ended the call and headed for the café. It was their usual choice for a lunch meeting. She arrived first and got a booth. The restaurant was warm and welcoming. The tables and chairs were solid wood, as was the floor. The paintings hanging on the walls were of the Blue Ridge Mountains or a picturesque view of one of the lakes.
It wasn’t long before Harper showed up. Jaime’s youngest sister was tall and slender, like a model. She’d lucked out and had gotten the good-looks genes in the family.
Harper was five feet nine, had brown eyes like her sisters, and her blond hair was golden. She dressed well and anything looked good on her. Plus, she was very creative. She created her own jewelry using a variety of gems and sold much of it for profit. The amulets she created were only for family.
The youngest sister’s ability was telepathy. She was a bit rough with the skill, and until recently her talent would come and go. Since she’d turned thirty, she had gotten a better grip on it, because she’d practiced. Yet lately, it had been quiet.
“Hey, sis.”
Jaime stood and hugged her sister, then waved her into the booth. “I ordered iced tea. What do you want?”
“I’ll have the same.”
Jaime flagged the waitress then spotted Olivia. At thirty-two, she was a couple of years older than Harper. Jaime was the oldest sister, so had more responsibility. Giving up witchcraft was more awkward due to that factor.
Olivia was curvaceous, or that was how she liked to put it. She had a few extra pounds that she claimed she needed to lose, but Jaime thought she looked fabulous. And she was outgoing, generous, and flamboyant—everything that Jaime wasn’t.
To complete their sisterly powers, Olivia was an empath. She dealt with people on a daily basis, and had no trouble sensing their emotions. No matter what a person told her, Olivia perceived their true feelings. That could be good and bad, as life had demonstrated.
Olivia strode over to the table, multiple bracelets jingling on her arm. She had her dark blond hair twisted on top of her head, and her brown eyes were accented with purple shadow. She sat across from her sisters. “I must be in the wrong business.”
“What makes you think so?” Harper said. “You’re very hospitable.”
“Yes, but it’s wearing me out,” Olivia said. “There are so many tourists, a flood of emotions. It’s exhausting. Sometimes I wish I could block them out.”
“Can you do that?” Jaime said.
“Not a chance,” Olivia said. “I’ve tried. If I don’t pay attention, the messages just get louder. Once in a while, I just have to get away. It’s nice being with you two, since I don’t pick up anything from you.”
“I guess it doesn’t work with sisters,” Harper said. “Well, at least your house isn’t haunted.”
“Only because you cleared it for me,” Olivia said, looking at Jaime. “And that ghost was persistent. I understand that his family had owned the home for generations. But he needed to give it up already.”
“It was the trauma,” Jaime said. “What a horrible death, so sad.”
“If you care so much, why have you given up using your powers?” Olivia said.
“You know why,” Jaime said. “I’ve already explained that on several occasions.”
“Yeah, I know,” Harper said. “You want to live a normal life, to avoid being thought weird. I know the feeling. Can you imagine what dating is like? Do I tell the guy that I’m a witch when he asks me out, or do I keep it a secret then tell him later?”
“There’s really no good time,” Olivia said. “Any guy who lives in this town knows anyway. Our family has been here for generations. We have it pretty good now. No one clamors to burn us at the stake.”
“Very funny,” Jaime said. “But you have to understand, it’s for my kids. They don’t need all the harassment.”
The waitress came to refill the teas and brought one for Olivia. “The usual lunches for you ladies?”
Jaime looked at her sisters, who nodded. “Yes, that will be fine.”
“You realize that our witch powers are inherited,” Olivia said. “Have you noticed anything unusual with your kids yet?”
“Don’t think like that,” Jaime said. “I haven’t seen anything that couldn’t be assigned to normal kid behavior.”
“Communicating with ghosts? Having premonitions?”
“Many children talk about those things,” Jaime said. “It doesn’t mean that my kids have magical talents.”
“Whatever,” Harper said. “I’m not so sure I like having telepathy either. I seem to get messages when I least want them. For example, when I’m out with a guy I’m starting to like, and I can read his mind.” She waved her glass. “Sometimes, you just don’t want to know.”
“What about lately?” Jaime said. “Are you getting any messages?”
“About Aunt Iris, you mean?” Harper shook her head. “It’s been quiet recently, a little too quiet. I’m kind of wondering what’s up with that. I either get messages when it’s highly inconvenient, or I don’t get them at all.”
“And I don’t know what to make of that dream I had,” Jaime said. “It was distressing, but then, nightmares always are. I’ve resisted psychic input for a while. I’ve tried to block out dreams, and it seemed to work—until last night.”
The Cobb salads arrived, so the sisters took a break to eat. Olivia had hers without bacon, Harper had hers with extra tomatoes, and Jaime had no olives. The cook was used to them, so prepared lunch to their liking.
Olivia buttered a chunk of bread. “So, what do we think about Iris?”
“We have our work cut out for us,” Harper said. “If she doesn’t show up soon, we’ll have to check with every one of her friends. And that will take weeks.”
“She has to surface before long,” Olivia said. “It’s not like her to vanish, at least not from us. She wouldn’t worry us like that. She’d know that we’d be concerned.”
“You’re the oldest of us,” Harper said. “What do you think?”
“Oh, it’s on me now,” Jaime said. “It’s an issue for all of us to figure out. That’s why I called you.”
“You went to her house?” Olivia said.
“It was quiet as could be,” Jaime said. “And no sign that she’d been home recently. The bed was made, and everything was straightened up. The stove wasn’t warm. And come to think of it, the house was cold, which means she hadn’t been there the night before.”
“Should we report her as a missing person?” Harper said.
“I guess we’ll have to, if we can’t find her,” Jaime said. “But I’m more concerned that we aren’t getting any sensory communications. I can’t pick up any sign of her. You haven’t received any communications, and Olivia hasn’t felt anyt
hing—even though we’ve all tried.”
“That is disconcerting,” Olivia said. “I vote for checking around before we alert the sheriff. Aunt Iris wouldn’t let us live it down if she was just staying over with a friend—especially if it was a male friend.”
“Okay, we’ll divide the list and start with friends she is closest to,” Jaime said. “I’ll contact a few of our cousins to check, also. I can make up a cover story, so I don’t alarm them.”
When the plates were cleared, Olivia ordered dessert. “They have the best cheesecake.”
“Of course they do,” Harper said. “I’ll have some, and you too, Jaime?”
As they ate dessert, the conversation drifted to other subjects. A plan had been agreed on, so until they had more information there was little they could do. Jaime clung to the theory that all was well. The whole thing was a miscommunication. When she next talked to Iris, they was going to work out a better system for letting each other know when they went off alone.
“So, how are you otherwise?” Olivia said.
Jaime rolled her shoulder. “You know how the kids are. They don’t really want to visit their dad, but it’s his weekend.”
“He isn’t really their dad,” Harper said, “so I can’t blame them. As far as I observed, Elijah was missing as a father the whole time you were married. And now he wants visitation rights?”
Jaime felt a stab to her heart. Her first marriage was to Liam, a man she loved. He’d died in a terrible car accident due to a drunk driver. It still made her sick to think about it. Liam was her children’s real father. But he was gone.
Alone and struggling, Jaime had married Elijah. At the time, it had seemed right. He had a steady job as a pharmaceutical rep and had lived in the area most of his life. He’d been nice and taken her on some memorable dates. The kids hadn’t objected too much. Probably because they wanted her to be happy.
Yet the relationship had gone sour fast. Elijah’s job required travel, so he was frequently away from home. That might have been tolerable, except when he was home, he didn’t seem interested in his family. He belonged to a private club, something like the Masons.
Jaime hadn’t understood it, but the activities required his attention and way too much of his time. Finally, she’d had it. The marriage had been a pretense, so she ended it. Elijah fought the divorce initially. But Jaime refused to back down. She wanted the best for her kids and felt she had a better chance without him.
“To his credit,” Jaime said, “Elijah didn’t give me a hard time about my special abilities. If he had, I wouldn’t have married him in the first place. He seemed tolerant, even curious.”
“So, the guy’s not all bad,” Olivia said. “And I can’t disagree that the kids need a father. No offense. I think you do an amazing job with them. But the boys…they need a role model.”
“You’re not helping,” Jaime said. “Abigail protests the most. It might be because she’s the oldest. She’s starting to know her own mind, and she’s vocal with her opinions.”
“I’ve heard,” Harper said. “She told me before that Elijah is… Well, I won’t repeat it.”
The cheesecakes arrived, but Jaime was distracted. A light hanging from the ceiling shook; it wasn’t her eyes playing tricks on her. She glanced across the room, noticing a man carrying a baby on his hip and holding a little boy by the hand. The boy’s eyes darted upward, and he craned his neck to look at something.
“Come on,” his dad said. “Keep up.”
The boy leaned against the dad but looked back again. When he turned, his eyes were huge. “Daddy, Daddy.” He pulled on his dad’s arm and pointed.
The dad hesitated and looked back. “There’s nothing there.”
Just as they passed Jaime, the baby began to cry, getting louder as they moved away. When the path cleared, Jaime saw a filmy form, yet it was fading, so she couldn’t quite make out what it was. Then a loud crash startled her.
Jaime looked toward the kitchen to see a waiter shaking his head. “Clean it up,” a cook shouted, yet the waiter stared without moving. “Get it cleaned up!”
Olivia stopped with her fork halfway to her mouth. For a moment, she had a blank look in her eyes. “Did you feel that?”
“I saw something,” Jaime said.
Harper looked her sisters in turn. “I missed it. I didn’t pick up on it.”
Then the floor moved, rolling as though they were on a ship. The movement was quick and then was gone. A couple of customers looked up from their meals and glanced at the floor, then went back to eating, sure that it had been their imagination.
Jaime hesitated to get up, to move or do anything, until she knew what would happen next. But it was quiet and still—except for the clang of dishes and the noises of people talking. Then a glimmer caught her eye, and she looked up at a flickering image. It was the face from her dream, the man with bad teeth. She held her breath, waiting to see what he’d do.
Olivia stared at her. “What is it? It looks like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Jaime looked into the space where the man had hovered. “I did, and it was the horrible face of that man I told you about…the one in my dream.”
“Oh no.” Harper looked at where Jaime pointed. “I didn’t pick up any communication. Maybe it’s blocked.”
Olivia expelled a breath. “This isn’t good. The emotions I sensed were frantic, disturbed. Whatever is happening, it’s bad. I’m done with dessert.”
“I think we’re attracting unwelcome attention,” Jaime said. “We better leave and take our ghosts with us.” She cringed at realizing that she couldn’t put her dream aside. Her dream had just come to life before her eyes, so she’d best pay attention.
“I’m going home to make some calls,” Harper said. “I’ll stop by and see a few of Iris’s best friends. Someone must know something.”
Before Jaime left, she made an agreement with her sisters to check in later. If one of them turned up any clue, text immediately. They had to stick together. She went home with a sick feeling in her stomach. It was going to be tricky to keep all of this from her kids, but she had to try.
Until she knew for sure that her aunt was in trouble, she didn’t intend to spread panic. And talk of ghosts, dreams, and psychic communications tended to do that. She’d experienced that before. It was best to keep witch business in the family until more was known.
CHAPTER 3
On Saturday morning, Jaime was in Abigail’s room to help her pack. It was only for overnight, but the pile of clothes on the bed weren’t going to fit in one bag.
“Why do you need all this?” Jaime said.
“Because…”
That seemed to cover a lot of issues for a twelve-year-old girl.
Abigail flopped on the bed and stared at the ceiling with her legs dangling over the footboard. “Mamaaa…why do I have to go?”
“You’re being dramatic,” Jaime said. “It’s not that bad. I’m sure Elijah has something planned for today.”
“He never does. It’s awful.” Abigail put her arm over her eyes.
Guilt filled Jaime’s heart. It was her fault; she’d made a poor choice and her daughter had to pay the price. If only her father had lived… But Jaime pushed aside useless hopes.
As if reading her mind, Abigail said, “He isn’t my real father, anyway.”
And there it was, the constant reminder. Jaime missed him too. Liam Johnson had been the love of her life, and she’d expected him to be around forever. He’d understood her witchy family and was patient with all of it.
Then, eight years ago, Liam had been tragically killed. The twins had just celebrated their first birthday. Life wasn’t fair, and a part of Jaime still grieved. She’d always miss him, but she had to move on. She couldn’t let her children dwell on the past.
“That’s true,” Jaime said. “Elijah can’t replace your father. I’m not saying that he can. But he’s a part of your life, so I’m asking you to give him a chance.”
Abig
ail propped herself up on her elbows. “Can I borrow your suitcase? Mine is too small.”
“Sure you can,” Jaime said. “Why don’t you leave some of this stuff at Elijah’s? Then you’ll have it there and you won’t have to cart stuff back and forth.”
“No way…I might need it,” Abigail said. “I need all my stuff here.”
Abigail’s dissatisfaction was clear, but Jaime wasn’t ready to bail on the agreement. At the time of the divorce, Elijah had made a case for how much he cared for the children, and the judge had sympathized. But they weren’t his natural children, so visitation was up to Jaime.
Jaime wondered what was true. If Elijah had cared, he’d had plenty of opportunity to show it. But the kids had seemed to be the last thing on his agenda. Maybe he had trouble demonstrating affection. That had certainly been the case in their intimate relationship.
But it wasn’t a mother’s place to badmouth the father—substitute father—or whatever he was. Jaime had been giving Elijah a chance, but the situation seemed to have worsened. The divorce had been more than a year ago, and in that time, the kids had suffered numerous disappointments.
Elijah didn’t always show up as promised. His excuses seemed valid, as it was usually something to do with work. But that didn’t make it any better. They were kids, so didn’t understand the complexities of adult life.
“Brush your hair and get ready,” Jaime said. “I’ll go get the suitcase.”
Abigail came out of the bathroom while Jaime was stuffing the suitcase. Her hair was groomed but her expression was sour. “We’ll do something fun when you get back, okay?” Jaime said.
“I hope so, because Elijah ignores us. I don’t have any friends over there. It’s depressing.”
“Here, you close this up,” Jaime said. “I’ll go check on the twins. Carry your suitcase downstairs. It’s nearly time to leave.”
Andrew and Landon were already downstairs, wrestling with each other.
“Hey, boys…stop that,” Jaime said. “You’re going to be a mess when Elijah gets here.”
