Old Flames (Lainswich Witches Book 9)

by Raven Snow

  “Not kill,” Flint corrected quickly. “They were just little hexes and curses and the like.”

  “Designed to make sure the Stonewells stayed on top.” Rowen snorted. “They weren’t exactly harmless. They were a touch on the unfair side.”

  “Well, you could have joined us,” Flint pointed out. “But the way I hear it, you were all very happy off on the edge of town, being attacked by the townsfolk for things you hadn’t done.”

  Rowen thought back to the way her Grammy’s mother had been burned alive. Lainswich hadn’t always been hospitable to witches. They weren’t particularly hospitable now. “We were being attacked for things your family had done, you mean.”

  Flint’s casual argument ended abruptly. His expression grew more serious. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry. It was a long time ago, and…what my ancestors did back then was inexcusable. You’re right.”

  “It’s in the past.” Rowen could see that Eric was debating on whether or not to get involved. Better to glance over the family history part. “Anyway, after much arguing and back and forth hexing, we’re where we’re at now.”

  “We hate each other from a distance,” Flint explained. “Though my family is considerably more well off than her own.”

  “You had to bring that up?” Rowen knew that was a big sore spot for her family. They resented the Stonewells for profiting off the horrible things they had done in the past.

  “They’re also more selective, strict, and demanding,” Flint added. “We do jobs that will gain power or money, we’re home schooled, we’re raised just so. It’s a lot of pressure. Though I do believe the advent of the internet has helped some on that front. I have two sisters and a brother who are just dears. Pleasures to be around.”

  “Seriously?” Rowen could only remember them as spiteful little miniatures of their parents.

  “They’ve done a lot of growing up,” Flint assured her. “We all have. Some more than others, but I see your family still distrusts us completely. We could probably do better about making amends.”

  “So when did you and Rowen get close?” Eric asked, probably eager to get to the heart of the engagement matter.

  “I was in some trouble with my parents.” Flint looked into the distance, as if growing more thoughtful. He cringed a bit, like the memory left a bad taste in his mouth. “I really hated Lainswich. Some of the family was beginning to move to Tarricville, which I hated even more. The people I were closest to were all moving away. Even Rowen wanted to move away. We’d been hanging out more. We’d go to the park and smoke and complain about our parents—the former was a nasty habit. Anyway, she wanted to move into the city. I wanted to move into the city. There was a boy I liked there.”

  “A boy?” Eric repeated, leaning back in his chair a bit. Obviously, he hadn’t expected that. “But you were engaged to Rowen.”

  “My family has always been a bit on the conservative side. I decided to keep them from noticing my dating habits with Rowen. Part of why her family assumed I was just using her, I think,” Flint explained. “But she wanted to leave town too. And if we did, we could split rent.”

  Rowen nodded. “Obviously, it didn’t work out. They talked me out of it.”

  “Well, it might have gotten awkward if he moved in with some guy,” Eric pointed out.

  “Oh, that had fallen apart by then,” Flint assured him with a laugh. “He was a young, cute guy in a place with a much bigger selection than Lainswich.”

  “Still, it’s not like you could have kept Rowen as a cover for the foreseeable future.”

  “That had kind of fallen apart too.” Flint smirked at Rowen. “We’d grown on each other by then, which even surprised me to be honest. We didn’t like each other enough for the engagement to not be a total sham, but I think there was something there.”

  Rowen noticed the way Flint was looking at her. His gaze was soft, and his mouth quirked into a lopsided smile. She punched him in the arm. “It wouldn’t have worked out and we both know it.”

  “Maybe,” was the most Flint was willing to surrender on that one. He looked to Eric. “I hope you don’t think I’m trying to be shocking or anything. Just thinking about what-ifs, you know? You have a great life for yourselves here. You’re lucky to have each other.”

  Eric smiled at that. It was a genuine smile, not just a friendly one. “Thanks. I usually feel the same way.”

  Flint looked up moments before Rowen’s cell phone buzzed in her lap. She swore. They had just been having a lovely moment. Why did this have to happen now? “Sorry, guys,” she said, standing and moving into the kitchen to take the call.

  It was Willow. “This isn’t really a good time,” she said, answering the phone.

  “Well, it’s not really a good time here either,” Willow grumbled.

  Rowen could tell by her voice that she had just been snapped at by someone. People had a tendency to do that to poor Willow when they were shirking a job onto her. “What happened?” asked Rowen, making sure to keep her voice level and calm.

  “Things are kind of crazy down here. They figured out where Seraphina was murdered.”

  “What?” Now that was news worth interrupting dinner over. “It wasn’t at home?”

  “Apparently not.”

  “Then where was it?” Rowen generally preferred when her family led with the facts, but they never did.

  “She was murdered at Mr. Hawthorne’s house.” Willow spoke quietly, like this was some great secret and Channel 2 had already run two articles and a television mini-series on it.

  Speaking of which, she went to the television. “Is Channel 2 doing anything with the story already?” Flipping on the television, she didn’t see it scrolling across the bottom of every local channel yet.

  “That’s the thing.” Willow hesitated as if for emphasis. “Julia Martinez was just arrested.”

  “Arrested?!” Rowen had a hard time processing that. “Evidence was found at Hawthorne’s home and she gets arrested?”

  “Give me that, please,” said a muffled voice from beside Willow. Soon, it was Rose speaking on the other end of the line. “She was brought in for questioning. She went along willingly. Channel 2 is airing stuff, but it’s mostly a wait and see type deal. Julia called them down, but she’s always been picky about what they can say. She called us down too, actually. I’m heading there now, if you want to come with.”

  “Definitely,” Rowen said, before she even remembered that she had a dinner guest. It was too late to take it back.

  “I’ll just meet you at the station,” Rose said before hanging up.

  Rowen went back to the dinner table but found Eric and Flint already waiting for her in the kitchen. “What’s going on?” asked Eric. Flint looked equally concerned, like he knew it must have something to do with Seraphina.

  “Apparently, Seraphina wasn’t murdered where they thought she was murdered.” Rowen felt silly for not suspecting this before the police. That was a ridiculous thing to be upset about, but she was anyway. She was so used to solving most of these things for them.

  “Where was she murdered?” asked Eric.

  Rowen looked from him to Flint. “I’m not sure that I should say,” she admitted, sure she was offending someone by telling them that. Eric must have thought she was just hesitant to say something in front of Flint. After the conversation they had just had about their two families, that probably said more than she would have liked it to. “She was murdered at Mr. Hawthorne’s house,” Rowen blurted, feeling silly for keeping that from them. It was on the news by now, wasn’t it? It had to be.

  “What?” Eric sounded shocked.

  Flint just frowned and glanced over at the television. “I don’t suppose we’re allowed to tag along to the police station. I assume that’s where you’re going now.”

  “Probably not supposed to do that either.” Rowen headed for the door and grabbed a light jacket. “I’m really sorry about this. I’ll have to take a rain check.”

&n
bsp; “Flint can stay here,” Eric blurted. He looked at him. “If he wants, that is. How long are you going to be? I’m sure we can amuse ourselves until you get home.”

  Flint crossed his arms over his chest. He looked at Eric as if impressed. “I’d like that.” He turned his gaze to Rowen.

  Rowen smiled, glad the two were getting along so well. “I’ll be back as soon as I can then. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The Channel 2 news van was already at the police station when Rowen pulled up. Rose was sitting in her car, listening to soft viola music. Rowen knocked on the window making her jump. She mouthed something uncharacteristically vulgar before opening the door. “I didn’t see you pull up,” she told her as she climbed in on the passenger side.

  “I’m sneaky like that. Who are you waiting for? Your boyfriend?”

  “Ben doesn’t know I’m here. So, I’m actually waiting on Willow and her boyfriend.

  As soon as Rose mentioned him, Rowen spotted Benji. He was holding his camera in one hand and had the other playing with the ends of his girlfriend’s hair. They were a cute couple, if not a woefully oblivious one sometimes. No doubt Benji was telling Willow just about everything he knew right now. At least that wouldn’t put him in any kind of real trouble. He mostly worked with the Lainswich Inquirer these days. Channel 2 had to expect something like this. Rowen watched as they kissed each other and Willow headed straight for Rose’s car.

  “What did you find out?” Rose asked as soon as the door opened.

  “They’ve already questioned her. She’s basically waiting in there because she knows we’ll come with questions. Mostly, she just wants to go home and sleep. Rowen, you took my seat.”

  “Sorry.”

  “What?” Rose sat up straighter in her seat. “She said she wants to talk to us? Why didn’t you come back and tell us that immediately?”

  “Because Benji was right there and I wanted to know if he wanted to catch dinner after.”

  “You couldn’t just call him?”

  “He was right there.”

  With a great big sigh, Rose threw open the car door and headed toward the front of the station. The others followed. The receptionist rolled her eyes but hardly looked surprised to see them. If anything, she looked a touch relieved. “Maybe she’ll stop complaining now,” she said. The receptionist picked up her phone and made a call.

  Within seconds, someone was there to lead them back to the rooms where they questioned people. There wasn’t a whole lot of use for those apparently, so Julia had been allowed to stay in one. She was sipping at some coffee when they all came through the door. “Finally. What took you lot so long? I thought you were just ravenous for stories.”

  “I wouldn’t call us ravenous,” Rose grumbled, moving to sit across from her. “We came as soon as we found out.”

  “Then this really isn’t the game for you, is it? You should really work on those response times.” Julia’s eyes followed the officer as he left, closing the door behind himself and allowing them some privacy. Her posture then sagged like there was no point in keeping up appearances. This had absolutely drained her.

  “Why did they ask you in for questioning?” was Rose’s first question. It was standard enough. She probably already knew the answer, but it was good practice to have Julia explain it for them in her own words.

  “It came as a total surprise to me.” At least Julia wasn’t going to fight them on this. She dove right into the explanation. “I was still at the hospital when they came to question Darren. I didn’t know what to make of any of it at first. He was still in the hospital and will be for a number of days. I told them not to bother him. The poor man had just had a heart attack. He didn’t need unnecessary stress!” She took a deep breath and held up a hand as she looked to Rose. “To your boyfriend’s credit, he did agree with me. He asked some questions about Hawthorne, but I wasn’t at liberty to make any answers for him. Not that I knew any of the answers.”

  “What were the questions?” asked Rose.

  Julia glanced to the door, but she shrugged in the end, like it didn’t matter if she told them or not. “Basic ones,” she said. “Like was he at the hospital the entire night of Seraphina’s murder. To my knowledge, he was. Obviously. I would imagine that the hospital can vouch for that.”

  “And the other question?” prompted Rowen.

  “Was he with anyone on the phone on the night of the murder?” Julia frowned down at the table at this, as if this question bothered her much more than the other. “I can’t imagine he was. Phones aren’t allowed back there. At any rate, he wasn’t in any condition to use one.”

  Rowen herself wasn’t so sure about that one. She could tell that Julia had the same doubts. She herself had had her phone on her that night. If it was just a minor heart attack, well, he could have used it as an alibi for something altogether more sinister.

  “They think you murdered her,” Rose said suddenly. “They think you’re responsible for Seraphina’s death.”

  Julia opened her mouth as if to object, but then closed it as if realizing there was no point. “That certainly seems to be the angle they’re working bringing me here.”

  “I doubt they actually believe it,” Rose assured her, reaching across the table to lay a hand on Julia’s.

  Julia snatched her hand away. “This whole thing is a mess. What if someone is trying to frame me for something?”

  “Now you’re just being paranoid,” Rowen said, which Julia didn’t appreciate.

  She stood. “I’m going home. I need a hot bath after all of this. If you find out anything, let me know. In the meantime, I’ll tell my people not to run anything on your grandmother.”

  “Grandmother?” Rose repeated.

  “Or aunt or whatever. She has to be on their short list of suspects too, right? After tonight?” She headed to the door. “I’ll tell them to only mention her in passing. Don’t worry about it.”

  Rose stood up, her mouth slightly agape. “Is that a threat?”

  “No!” Julia sang, like Rose was being ridiculous. “It’s a professional courtesy. I’ll see you guys later.” And with that, she slipped out the door.

  “Sounded like a threat to me,” Willow muttered.

  At least it didn’t take Rowen too long to get back home. It felt an awful lot like she needn’t have gone over there in the first place. Although…Rowen couldn’t put her finger on it but something felt wrong. Usually, she would be getting one of those gut feelings of hers at this point. Was it because there wasn’t anything for her to do here or because she was distanced from the Greensmith’s guardians? She needed to do something to make that right.

  Rowen resolved to try and do that tomorrow. For now, she headed back inside, hoping that Flint and Eric were, at least, having a good time. She went inside to find Eric dozing on the sofa with the television still going. She didn’t bother to wake him up since he had had a rather long day. Instead, she went to find Flint.

  Flint was easy to find. All she had to do was follow the thud-thud of Chester’s tail hitting the floor. He was seated beside Flint as he went through documents in boxes on the floor. Flint looked up when Rowen approached him. “Hey. Sorry, got bored.”

  She looked down at what he was doing. This hardly seemed appropriate. “So you decided to go through our stuff?”

  “Just documents. We were already talking about me helping with those, weren’t we? Besides, Eric wasn’t being the best host. He sort of just dropped out on me, didn’t he?” Flint asked this last question of Chester, petting him a little more furiously between the ears as he did. “You’re a very good host, aren’t you? Aren’t you?” Chester grinned and rolled over onto his side.

  It was hard to stay mad at Flint after seeing Chester so happy. “Well as long as you’re still here,” she sat down across from him on the wood floor, “I have a question.”

  Flint put down the manila folder he was flipping through. His casual expression becam
e serious. “Shoot.”

  “I’m having this problem with my guardians. The Greensmith family guardians, that is. I know you know already, but I’m beginning to think it might be a very real problem. I feel like I should have been able to help with this Seraphina case by now.”

  Flint nodded. He was silent for a while, as if taking a moment to consider what she had just told him. “Maybe you just need to sit this one out.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, this really isn’t your job. You do reporting. You do private detective work. You don’t officially work for the police. This isn’t your obligation.”

  “But Seraphina was my friend.”

  “Was she really, or do you just like solving murders?”

  That question stung a little bit. “Okay, maybe she wasn’t technically my friend, but I would like to solve her murder. No one should go through that.”

  “But if someone had to…”

  “No one should go through something like that!”

  “Fine, fine.” Flint offered her a smile. “I’ll try to help. I can’t promise that it’ll do much good. What’s going on now anyway? With Seraphina, I mean, and the murder and what you…”

  “They brought Julia in for questioning. I guess they thought maybe she had something to do with the whole thing.”

  Flint watched Rowen, chewing his bottom lip, considering what she thought about this. Rowen felt sure it was written on her face. “That sounds unlikely.” He gave voice to her thoughts.

  That was obvious. Geez. She felt so blocked by all of this, it was driving her insane. “Who did kill her though?”

  “Don’t look at me like that. I don’t know. And I already said I’d help you in whatever way I can.”

  Rowen hoped he could.

  Chapter Twelve

  “It was just weird of him to let himself take a look around all on his lonesome. That’s all I’m saying.” Eric had met Rowen for breakfast. The homemade pancakes were disturbed by the tone of conversation.