by M J Waverly
“Who? My sister?” I arched my eyebrow. Tension threaded through me, but I slightly relaxed.
“You’re not the only one who can speak to fairies. We have a mutual acquaintance, Sidney Latimer. Kylantha spoke highly of you.” Camilla Green leaned her shovel against the barn door. “Come on up to the house, Sidney, and I’ll make us some tea.”
The woman’s aura reminded me of Nana’s, and for a brief moment, I could close my eyes and imagine she was here. We would be visiting Camilla Green as we worked on this case.
I followed Camilla Green to her house. I entered the kitchen, almost expecting something from Bilbo’s round house. Wooden counters, hardwood floors, and maybe a copper sink. I blinked as light and brightness greeted me. An entirely white kitchen with shiny stainless steel appliances that had to be the Ikea dream kitchen. Modern contemporary. Not what I expected.
Camilla removed her sunhat and placed it on a hook. “Would chamomile be okay?” She opened a cabinet and removed a glass jar filled with tea bags.
“Love it.”
Camilla prepared water and poured it into a bright red tea kettle. I inhaled the herbal goodness of the kitchen.
Camilla turned on the stove, and the pointed a white chair around a large oak table. “Have a sit.” I pulled the chair out from underneath the table and plopped my butt down.
Camilla sat in a bright red chair. “Tell me your story.”
The tea kettle whistled.
I swiveled around in my chair. “That was fast.”
“I enchanted my stove to boil water quickly.” Camilla rose and poured water into the blue rose China teacups and then brought them over to the table and sat down in the chair opposite me.
“I’m trying to stop George Abernathy’s ghost, but he’s growing stronger,” I explained about Teresa Duncan’s death and my fears of what could happen at the festival.
“What does this have to do with me?” Camilla sipped her tea. Her face remained a blank mask.
“You were one of the witnesses to George Abernathy’s death ten years ago. Can you tell me what you saw?”
“George fell off the cliff.”
I blinked and sat up. “So, you don’t think he was murdered?”
Camilla Green “Oh, I didn’t say that. George was most definitely murdered. Murdered by magic.”
Chapter Thirteen
I almost fell out of the chair and onto the tile floor. “Did you see who did it?” I asked.
“No, but the wind spell was woven with anger, jealousy, and betrayal interwoven with the dark magic. The spell caster wanted it to appear as an accident, but George’s death was intentional and planned.” Camilla sipped her tea; her eyes locked on me.
My heart pumped super-fast. I took in a deep breath and then sipped my tea. The chamomile soothed me, but I also tasted the sweetness of summer days as bees buzzed, collecting nectar. I shook my head as drowsiness threatened to take over my brain. Had Camilla put something into the tea? I pulled on my ability to keep my focus, to clear my head of the overwhelming need to sleep.
Squeezing my fists until my nails dug into the palm of my skin, I stared at Camilla Green. “Did you poison me?
“No, just testing you, measuring your magic. You are indeed strong.” Camilla leaned back in her chair. “There might be hope for Cloverville after all.”
“What do you mean?” I asked. Even though I’d cleared the magical side effects of the tea, I still felt as if I’d hiked through a field of flowers on a sunny day. Giddy almost. High on sunshine.
“Your magic is reacting to the chamomile harvested on a sunny day. You tapped into the magic.” Camilla waved her fingers, mimicking butterflies.
“Why?” Panic took root in my stomach as I clutched my right side.
Camilla’s expression grew somber. “I hope you learned a lesson not to be so trustworthy to women who seem like your grandmother. Elizabeth would’ve never accepted tea from me until she scanned it with her magic.”
The ache in my belly eased, but I grabbed onto the edge of the table as a buzzing rang in my ear. “Nobody told me I needed to do that. I’m learning as I go.”
“Guess you got a free lesson, today. You tapped into the light. I find growing my own herbs and preparing my own tinctures and infusing them with light empowers my magic.” Camilla held her cup up in a toast, and then proceeded to sip.”How can I help you?”
I still didn’t entirely trust Camilla, well, for one reason, she’d spiked my tea, but I needed help. “I was shown a cave in the park where someone had performed a ritual using sigils.”
“Kylantha told me.”
“I’ve been told that the Nightstalkers use these ancient sigils to create dark spells and curses. They look like ancient runes but with geometric designs connected swoops and odd angles. What do you know about them?”
Camilla paled, but remained silent.
Obviously, she wasn’t going to answer my question. Time to try a different tactic. “I was told George had been a kind ghost, who enjoyed the forest. He protected the animals, almost like a guardian. Someone has used these sigils to make George an angry and hostile ghost. How do I help him.”
Camilla drew her bottom lip in between her teeth, and then finally sighed as if having reached a decision. “I have knowledge of these sigils. George was enchanted to not remember how he died. When this new spell was written in the cave, someone wants George to seek revenge.”
“Against his murderer?” I took another sip of tea to ease my racing mind.
“Against the world. But to do the spellcaster’s evil.” Camilla Green pursed her lips.
I mentally filed through my list of suspects. Babs Abernathy. Although she’d claimed she loved George. She had gained from her husband’s death. A successful company, and a new husband. “Why would someone want to kill Teresa Duncan?”
Camilla stood and took her cup to the sink. She turned around. “Teresa was distraught the day George died, but she loved the park, it was her heart and soul. She would do anything to protect it. She may have enchanted George to be kind. To help protect the park after he died. Someone could’ve reversed or change her spell on George Abernathy.”
“ I found some of the dark magical sigils near her body.”
Camilla nodded, and a sob escaped. “I must confess I felt Teresa’s life force ebb away. She’d become withdrawn in the past years. Kept to herself.”
“That’s sad.” And surprising. Teresa never told me she had known George before he died. What other secrets had she kept? I twisted my hands. “She knew my grandmother.”
Camilla inclined her head. “Elizabeth Latimer was a very powerful witch, and I’m sure you will be, also. Once you learn some common sense lessons about magic. I disagreed with her about keeping you girls clueless about magic.”
A wave of grief washed over me. I took in a deep breath and then released it. “I don’t know what to do without her.” My chest tightened. I didn’t want to be having an emotional moment in front of a woman I just met. I inhaled, forcing myself not to cry. “It’s all so confusing. I’m learning as I go.”
Camilla nodded. “Ava mentioned your struggles, but you’ve done well. You’ve learned to rely on your instincts. Your own power of observations. You’re doing it now. It’s a balance of logic and instincts. Still, your heart is troubled about your grandmother.”
I leaned forward. “Do you have any idea of what happened to her?”
“No. I wished I could give you news one way or another. Mysteries in time reveal themselves, and sometimes not at all.”
Another cryptic message. Much like my Book of Shadows. I wouldn’t be surprised if Camilla had been the author. Time to be direct. “Who do you think killed George?”
“I don’t know. It was rumored he had a mistress.”
“He was happily married to Babs Abernathy. Who was his mistress?”
Camilla shook her head. “I don’t know.”
If George had a mistress, then a jealous wife would have moti
ve to use magic to murder her husband. Revenge and taking over ownership of his company. I didn’t have much time to stop Babs Abernathy before the Thunder Mountain Park Harvest Festival.
The next morning I pulled into Hunsinger Automotive. Yawning, I ate my biscuit and slurped my coffee. I didn’t have time to stop by and see Rudolph. I’d catch up with him later today. I needed to talk to Jason because we only had one more day to stop the Thunder Mountain Park Harvest Festival.
And Babs Abernathy was my number one suspect behind George’s death and his recent evil enchantment.
After I parked my truck, I walked through the showroom. The chatter of conversations filled the air from customers and sales advisors. Air compressors hissed, and the sound of lifts swooshing up and down greeted me. I dashed upstairs and flung open the Third Eye office door.
A pouty-faced Mandy and a stressed Jason sat next to each other, staring at the laptop monitor. She turned on her mega-watt “Hello, Sidney.”
I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t be around them. The truth laid bare right before my eyes. They would make up and continue their relationship. Get married. I recalled the image I had of them having their wedding pictures made on the shore of Lake Elliot.
“Hello,” I said.
Jason scooted away from Mandy as if he suddenly realized she could be contagious with an itchy disease.
“Sorry to interrupt.” I spun around and walked out of the office.
“Sidney,” Jason called.
“I quit.” I couldn’t be around Mandy and Jason, not like this.
“Sidney. Jason’s footfalls pounded on the stairs behind me. “Sidney, wait.”
I stormed through the showroom and out the door into the parking lot. I didn’t want to hear any explanation he had to give me about laughing and sitting so close to Mandy.
“Stop, Sidney.” Jason grabbed me by the waist and held onto me. I inhaled his clean woodland soapy smell.
I took in some deep breaths and tried to push him away from me. “Let me go. I told you I quit.
“No. I’m not. Not until you calm down and talk to me.”
I pounded my fists on his chest. His betrayal. Camden’s betrayal merged into one hot ball of emotional anger burning through me.
“Let go, Jason.” Somewhere in the distance thunder rumbled. Power gathered in my solar plexus. I’d use my telekinesis if he didn’t release me.
“Sidney. No. I’m not letting you go. I’ve had to stop myself from kissing you from the moment I met you. I’m not letting you go.”
I sucked in air into my parched lungs. Our gazes locked with one another. Energy—hot and white and pure surged between us. Jason crushed his lips against mine.
Despite my anger, despite my distrust, despite my better judgment, I reached up and wrapped my arms around him and returned the kiss, lost in Jason. Lost in him. Electricity effused my skin, into my muscles, and deep into the marrow of my bones.
Somewhere in the distance, a scream erupted, but I was lost. Lost in Jason. I slowly regained my senses and stepped away, ending our kiss. I stared deep into his green eyes. “Wow.”
“You ain’t kidding.” He ran his hand down my back and held me tighter as if he didn’t want to let go. Would never let me go.
The screaming continued. It sounded like a tomcat caterwauling.
“I think someone is screaming your name.” I clung to his the sleeves of his shirt to keep myself upright.
“I don’t care. I want to kiss you, again.” He pushed me up against my truck door. I pressed my body against his. I’d fantasized about this moment, but the real moment was even better. The screaming became even louder, and something bounced up and on in the bed of the truck as it moved against my back.
We broke our kiss.
Jason groaned. But, he didn’t let go of me.
Dazed, confused, and filled with this deep physical attraction to Jason that needed satiating, I didn’t want him to stop. I turned in the direction of the screaming.
Mandy hopped in the back of my truck like a two-year-old having a tantrum.“Stop kissing her. You love me.” She screamed. She tugged at her hair, making it stick up at odd angles. Mascara streamed down her face and her pink lipstick smudged, giving her a fragile, child-like clown face.
For once, I saw Mandy Patterson for the first time without my prism of anger and jealous. She was a woman, a person, who needed help. She needed emotional support to find her way back to herself. Mandy reminded me of Emma.
When a soul or heart is broken in life, there begins the path to an unhappy spirit. For Mandy’s sake, she needed help; otherwise, her life would be filled with pain and anguish, which would tie her soul to this plane and not traveling onto the Bright Side when her life on Earth ended.
Jason pushed me behind him. “Mandy, I told you I was interested in someone new. It’s Sidney. We have a lot in common. She understands me like you never will.”
“But, I love you. I need you. Oscar Wickersham broke up with me. Me. Now, I’m all alone. I don’t want to be alone.” Mandy crumpled like a broken marionette in the back of pickup truck.
Jason turned to me. “I need to call her Mom and take her home.”
I nodded.
“Then you and I have a lot to talk about,” Jason’s eyes lingered on me. Something had definitely changed between us. I had stepped over the line from working relationship to something on a physical hot level.
“I have class, tonight. But, we need to talk about George. I spoke to Camilla Green last night.”
“Without me?” Jason arched an eyebrow.
“You were busy. I felt I needed to go . . .”
Jason held up his hand. “You had to do what you needed.”
Mandy sobbed and collapsed into a heap onto the ground. “My life is a mess. You’re the second guy who’s dumped me. Everyone is rejecting me.”
I sympathized with Mandy. Rejection is hard to deal with. I remembered the pain and agony after Camden’s betrayal. A hitch caught in my chest. The person George dumped must have been furious. So angry because that person killed him ten years ago. Now, someone had awakened his memories that Teresa had taken away. Why? To have George feel the grief and pain. My mind flashed back to Babs in her office. She must must have been very angry with her dead husband.
Pain, vengeance, and betrayal and all the other negative emotions could wreck relationships, lives, families, and even your afterlife. Right then, I had an idea for my next screenplay. Right now, I’d call it ‘Hey, Honey.’ But this time I wanted to write a comedy horror. It’s about a guy, and how all of his lovers cursed him. Why did I get screenplay ideas at the oddest moments? My way of dealing with life.
Jason tried to comfort Mandy, but she swatted at him. I walked over and held out my hand to her. “I understand.”
Mandy looked up at me. “I want to go home. Can you take me?”
Talk about awkward silence. After Jason and I dropped a heartbroken Mandy off at her house, we had to return to Hunsinger Automotive and work for several more hours Jason worked in the shop. I had tons of paperwork to input in the computer.
It was mid-afternoon before we could leave. Hunsinger Automotive. The entire day I kept glancing at the clock. Each hour bringing us closer to tomorrow. Closer to the Thunder Mountain Park Harvest Festival. Closer to George making a dramatic appearance.
Jason and I arrived at Iceberg Cooler Company around four o’clock. It was as if the factory and offices had been abandoned. An eerie silence greeted us. No cars. No one about. Just empty.
“Where is everyone? You’d think they’d be busy with preparations for the festival,” I said.
“I don’t know,” Jason pointed at the locked gates. “Wanna go inside?”
I was about to answer in the affirmative, but a sheriff’s patrol car cruised by.
And stopped.
“Maybe another time.” I pointed at the police car.
“Agreed. If we get arrested, we won’t be able to stop Babs and her friends, tomorro
w, if we get arrested.
We went to Crooked Spoons Coffee Shop to discuss our plans for tomorrow. I sat down in a booth. Emotionally, I was drained. I touched my lips, still tingling after Jason’s kisses.
How had I let down my protective barriers I had built after Camden’s betrayal. One moment I had resolved to leave Third Eye. No more Jason. Next thing, hormones had taken over, and I kissed him like we were the last two humans on an apocalyptic world on the verge of exploding into nothingness.
Jason brought two cups of coffee over. He grabbed a couple of packets of sugar and stirred it into the dark brew.
“I think Mandy’s mother is relieved we’re not getting back together. She never approved of me in the first place.”
Without disclosing details about my breakup with Camden, I understood the place Mandy was in at this moment. “Mandy needs time to heal. It might be a good thing to keep in contact with her.” I held up my hand. “As a concerned friend.”
Jason shook his head. “I don’t know. It may be better to cut ties. Some people don’t handle rejection.”
“No, they don’t,” I told him about what Camilla had said. “I think Babs killed George. Dr. Smith hinted Babs attended the historical meetings, which is a cover for coven meetings in Cloverville.”
“I agree. Babs Abernathy is the one who had the most to gain after George’s death. Why make him angry, now after all these years?” Jason sipped his coffee, and then sprawled against the seat. “We need to find out the name of George’s mistress. She could help fill in the missing pieces. Camilla didn’t tell you.”
“No.”
He wrinkled his forehead. “I have a gut feeling George’s mistress was Teresa. It seems we didn’t know everything about her. Why did she talk to him before the full moon hike?”
I folded my arms over my chest. “She could’ve tried and reasoned with him. Not everyone has to have a sinister motivation.”
“I know. I have my own gut instincts about things, and we know to trust that gut feeling. Some things never added up with her.”
