Evil Turns

by Jane Tesh

“Thank you.”

  Calm, reasonable Harold was smiling and pleasant. It occurred to me I didn’t know what he did besides sit on the city council. He’d said he was under stress with business deals and had financial concerns. “What line of business are you in, Harold?”

  “I run several nonprofit organizations, mainly for the preservation of endangered animals, as well as animal rescue.” He brought out his wallet and handed me a few brightly colored cards that said Pandas, Incorporated; Rustling Waters Fish and Bird Sanctuary; Peregrine Falcon Rescue and Rehabilitation; and Parkland Cat Shelter. “Those are the main ones. I have a few smaller organizations I run, as well. As you can imagine, we always need contributions. Things have gotten a little tight lately. I guess when I see someone like Amanda throwing her wealth around on a silly outdoor drama when she could be using her money for something useful, I get a bit annoyed.”

  “She has a right to spend her money as she likes.”

  “I know. I need to sit back and take a deep breath. Several deep breaths.”

  Annie brought her completed list to me and plopped it on the table. “Here.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Bring us a couple of Cokes, would you, please, Annie?” Harold asked. As she stalked off, he said, “Is she having a bad day, too?”

  I glanced at the list. “She thinks I accused her of a crime. I only asked a question.”

  “A crime?”

  “Have you ever heard of the Darkrose Coven?”

  “Darkrose Coven. Now there’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time.”

  “You know something about it?”

  “Oh, years ago some girls were out in the woods playing like they were witches and everyone got upset. They called themselves a coven, but they were only harmless.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “I thought they were harmless, but other people accused them of holding Satanic rites, killing animals and possibly worse, but nothing was ever proven. You know if an animal had been harmed, I would’ve known about it.”

  Possibly worse. Maybe founding members of the coven were still at large. “Who could I talk to about this?”

  “Lauren Garrett would know. She was a free spirit if there ever was one. Not so much now. She’s an associate pastor at the Methodist church.”

  “Does she have a daughter named Britney?”

  “Yes. A very pretty young woman.”

  With a black rose tattoo. “Thanks, Harold.”

  Annie brought our Cokes, put them down, and walked away. I’d have to leave her a big tip.

  “Why the interest in Darkrose Coven?” Harold asked. “I thought Jerry had given up all that kind of stuff.”

  “There may be a connection to the man who was found at Phoenix Vineyards.”

  “Oh, are you on that case?”

  “No, but I can help you with Amanda.”

  Again, a big, relieved smile transformed his face. “Any help will be appreciated.”

  Chapter Five

  I stopped by the Celosia Methodist Church office and asked the secretary if Lauren Garrett was in. I was directed to another office down the hall and greeted by Lauren, an older, shorter version of Britney. She had the same pretty features and long dark hair. Her desk was situated in front of a stained-glass window, so she was framed by a Technicolor scene of Jesus carrying a lamb. Not exactly your standard evil coven shot.

  “Hello, come in. It’s Mrs. Fairweather, isn’t it? Or do you prefer Maclin?”

  “Either one’s fine,” I said. “But please call me Madeline. Would you have a few minutes? It’s about Darkrose Coven.”

  She made a comical face of mock distress. “Better shut the door.”

  I did, and she motioned me to a chair. “That bad, huh?”

  “My past comes back to haunt me,” she said with a chuckle. “No, just some extreme silliness. How in the world did you hear about it?”

  “The paper mentioned it in connection with the vineyard murder.”

  “Oh, that’s right. I did read that. Are you involved with the case?”

  “Indirectly.”

  “Well, it has to be another Darkrose. We gave up that nonsense years ago.” She sat back in her chair. “You know how you do stupid things when you’re a kid, play with Ouija Boards, try to mix up love potions, pretend you can make things happen. That’s all it was.”

  I’d spent most of my childhood pretending to be a perfect little doll, so I sort of understood.

  “The farmer whose field we were playing in took offense, so we moved to the woods near Peaceful Meadow. Nothing ever happened.”

  Peaceful Meadow sounded more like a picnic spot. “No animal sacrifices? No calling up spirits?”

  “We found a dead deer once and performed an elaborate burial service. If anyone saw us, I’m sure they misinterpreted the whole thing.”

  “So your congregations wouldn’t be shocked if they knew you were once a member?”

  “Maybe some of the older folks would be uncomfortable, but as you can see, I’ve seen the light.” She grinned and gestured to the Bibles crowding her bookshelves, the crosses on the walls, and the statue of Jesus on a table by the door. “Completely reformed.”

  “Does Britney know?”

  “Oh, yes. If you try to keep secrets from your kids, they find out anyway. Might as well be up front with them to begin with.”

  Lauren Garrett sounded like a sane and reasonable mother, but I was curious about something else. “I was a little surprised to see Britney and her friend Clover at Amanda Price’s garden party. It’s great that they want to take part, but I didn’t think girls her age would be interested in the Women’s Improvement Society.”

  “I didn’t, either. Her Aunt Eloise had invited her several times, and she always refused, but then Amanda came by one day and invited her personally, and she said yes.”

  “Was Clover personally invited, too?”

  “I believe she was.”

  Why would Amanda want teens in her group, and why specifically these two young women? “It’s nice to have a little diversity in any group. Are there any other members of the original Darkrose Coven still in Celosia?”

  “I don’t think so. Most of them wanted to get out of Celosia as soon as they could.” Again she gestured around her church office. “I defected to the Other Side.”

  I gave her one of my cards. “If you think of anyone, please give me a call.”

  She agreed, we shook hands, and I was in the parking lot unlocking my car when a white convertible screeched to a halt beside me and Britney Garrett jumped out, her face twisted in anger.

  “How dare you rat on me! You told my mother about my tattoo, didn’t you? You should mind your own business!”

  Whoa, what a reaction. “Hold on. Yes, I came to talk to your mother, but no, I did not come to tell her about your tattoo.”

  She tried to calm down. “You better not have.”

  “Would she be that mad about it?”

  “She said I couldn’t have one.”

  “I won’t tell her.”

  Britney took a few steadying breaths. Tears trembled on her eyelashes. “Sorry, Madeline. I saw your car, and we’d just talked at Amanda’s, and I didn’t know why else you’d be here.”

  “That’s okay. My mom was very strict, too.” If Lauren had once been part of a Junior Witches Club, I didn’t see the problem with her daughter having a flower tattoo, but then, I wasn’t a mom or a pastor, at that. “I came to see your mother about something else. She said Amanda herself invited you to join the Improvement Society.”

  “She did.”

  “And your Aunt Eloise is Eloise Michaels?” Coveter of the silver centerpiece?

  “That’s right.”

  “Amanda must have had a convincing argument.”

  Britne
y looked uncomfortable. “I guess.” Her cell phone jangled with the sounds of a current pop tune. “Excuse me.”

  She walked off, phone to her ear. I got in my car. What had Amanda said to Britney to get her to join the Improvement Society? I’ll tell your mother you have a tattoo? Judging from Britney’s reaction, I’d say that was a possible answer. And why would Amanda care, unless there was more significance to the black rose than I’d discovered?

  ***

  Before heading for home, I stopped off at Georgia’s Books and bought a paperback copy of Pagan Desires. According to the description on the back cover, a group of daring young girls, led by flame-haired Lissa, formed a coven called Darkrose to protect themselves from evil forces and to meet hot young angel boys, two of whom became rivals for Lissa’s attention. The book appeared to be standard young adult fiction popular today. Vampires and zombies were still going strong. Why not add a few angels? But this series was not around during the original Darkrose days. The name of the coven must be a coincidence.

  Something else puzzled me, though. If Lauren Garrett had been a member of the first Darkrose Coven, wouldn’t she have a black rose tattoo? Or was that something only the new members had?

  Georgia’s Books also had today’s Celosia News. Hoping to find something about the body in the vineyard, I bought a copy. On page two, I read that the body had been identified as Eric Levin, age twenty-six, of Copeley. He had died from a combination of stab wounds and poison. The investigation was ongoing. Still no explanation why witchcraft symbols had been left on the body.

  I got home around five-thirty, just as Jerry got back from camp. Nathan drove up behind the Jeep in his green SUV. Both men got out, Nathan slamming his car door with more force than necessary.

  “Everything ready for the camp’s open house?” I asked Jerry.

  “Ready as we can be,” he said, “but Nathan’s about to pop.”

  Nathan’s reddish hair was on end, and his little round glasses were steamed over. Nathan usually reminded me of one of my history professors—neat, tidy, and put together—but today, in his camp shorts and tee-shirt, he looked like a frazzled Boy Scout leader who had lost his troop. “Madeline, I need to talk to you. Amanda Price is still pestering me about using the far side of the camp for her outdoor drama. Does that woman not know how to take no for an answer?”

  “I don’t think she does.”

  “I don’t need that kind of stress right now.”

  I invited him up on the porch. “Come sit down. You look like you could use some tea.”

  “I sure could.”

  Nathan and Jerry sat down in the rocking chairs. I got everyone a glass of tea and took another rocker. “Has she been calling you?”

  “Worse than that. She came to the camp. She charged in around four-thirty, wouldn’t you say, Jerry?”

  “She must’ve rushed over right after her party. She cornered Nathan and wouldn’t let up.”

  Nathan’s face was still red. He took off his glasses and wiped them on his tee-shirt. “I swear, I don’t often lose my temper, but something has to be done about that woman.” He settled the glasses back on his nose. “She hasn’t one bit of proof that Emmaline Ross or anyone, for that matter, ever lived on that piece of land.”

  “What exactly does she want to do?” I asked.

  He took a large swig of tea in an attempt to calm down. “She wants to build an amphitheater on that land, bring people in from Celosia in covered wagons, and ferry them across the lake. Talk about an insurance nightmare! And who in the world wants to ride ten miles in a covered wagon?”

  Jerry put his feet up on the porch railing. “Amanda said it would be a total frontier experience.”

  “It would be an experience, all right! I told her I owned that land, and she could not do anything to it. She replied that the amphitheater would bring hundreds more people to the camp and make it a huge success. She had the nerve to say I would be allowed to put on camp productions there. Thank you very much, Amanda!” He took another gulp of tea, choked, and spluttered as Jerry patted him on the back. “It’s like talking to a wall!”

  I rescued Nathan’s tea glass before he dropped it. “I’ll talk to her. You know if she refuses to leave you alone, you can have her arrested for trespassing.”

  “I certainly will. I told Jerry I finally understand what it’s like to want to kill somebody.”

  “You’ll have to get in line.”

  Jerry steered the conversation back to Camp Lakenwood and Nathan’s plans for the open house celebrations. Once we felt Nathan had calmed down, we let him drive home.

  I settled back into my rocking chair. “That’s the second person who’s wished Amanda dead today.”

  Jerry sat on the porch rail. “He tried his best to be polite to her.”

  “I’m sure he did. Poor Nathan. But she can’t build anything on his land without his permission.”

  “So who was the first to wish her dead?”

  “Harold, of course. He crashed the garden party, correctly suspecting that it was a fundraiser for the outdoor drama.”

  “Well, it would be quite an undertaking for Celosia.”

  “And as we’ve seen many times in the past, a wonderful opportunity for people to take sides and squawk.”

  A thundering noise echoed across the front meadow, and Austin came roaring up on his four-wheeler with Denisha following on her bike.

  “It’s fixed!” Austin announced. “Want to try it?”

  Of course Jerry wanted to try it. I stood on the porch with Denisha, my phone ready, my finger poised to hit nine-one-one, while Jerry sped off across the meadow. He and Austin took turns until Denisha reminded them they were tearing up the yard.

  “You’re right,” Jerry told her. “We’ll take it to the track next time.”

  Austin took off his helmet and brushed his hair back into its little spikes. “Whew! You got any Coke or anything, Madeline?”

  He followed me into the kitchen to wash his hands and to scope out any snacks. I gave him a Coke and another to give to Denisha. On the way back to the porch, he spotted Jerry’s Hansel and Gretel CD.

  “There’s an opera about that?”

  “Yes, and wait till you hear the composer’s name. Engelbert Humperdinck.”

  Austin burst out laughing. “You made that up!”

  “No, it’s true.”

  “Humperdinck!”

  “Turn it on,” Jerry called from the porch.

  Austin especially enjoyed “The Witches’ Ride,” and Denisha liked “The Children’s Prayer.” She called it “The Angel Song.” I’d forgotten how beautiful the melody was.

  When at night I go to sleep,

  Fourteen angels watch do keep.

  Denisha listened closer as Hansel and Gretel continued their duet. “That boy’s voice is really high.”

  Jerry let her in on the secret. “Actually, it’s a girl.”

  “A girl plays Hansel?”

  “And a man plays the witch. In this production, anyway. Also, a woman plays the Sandman.”

  The little beads in Denisha’s hair clicked as she shook her head. “Opera’s crazy.”

  Austin’s mother called, looking for him. He and Denisha thanked us for the Cokes and rode away.

  I turned to Jerry. “Now for the big news of the day.”

  “Bigger than the outdoor drama? Bigger than a new four-wheeler?”

  “Olivia Decker.”

  “Eek. What about her?”

  “I went to see Dr. Wallace, as scheduled. Everything’s fine, by the way. We’re still in a holding pattern. Kathleen has a problem, though, and hired me. Seems unflattering pictures have surfaced, thanks to an old sorority sister. Kathleen wants me to retrieve the extra copies before they go viral. Guess who has them?”

  “Olivia. What evil plan is she cookin
g up now?”

  “That’s what I get to find out.”

  “Well, give her my love and a big sloppy kiss.”

  “Sure thing. It’ll go right along with Pagan Desires.”

  “Now that sounds intriguing.”

  I showed him the copy of the book, and explained about my visit to Lauren Garrett, former member of the original Darkrose Coven, and how Britney Garrett had freaked out when she thought I’d told her mother about her tattoo.

  Jerry was pleased by the news of a local coven. “So there used to be a group of witches here, and it may be starting up again. You get a black rose tattoo and you’re in.”

  I took out the list Annie had made for me. “Here are the names of the girls who have the same tattoo. It may be only a fad, as Annie said, or it may be something more sinister.”

  As if on cue, the music changed to a deep foreboding tune. “What’s the plan?” Jerry asked.

  “I’ll start with the names on this list. Maybe some of these girls will be at tryouts tonight. Annie was planning to audition. And here’s the latest news about the man found in the vineyard.”

  I handed him the newspaper and he read the article. He raised his eyebrows. “Poison? That sounds witchy.”

  “Let me see if the online report has anything new.”

  The report had the latest findings on the case, which included the origin of the poison, which was, surprisingly, rhododendron.

  Jerry looked even more surprised. “Rhododendron? We’ve got those growing around the side of the house. I didn’t know they were poisonous.”

  The large bushes with their purple blossoms were everywhere in Celosia. “Let me Google it.”

  Sure enough, along with azaleas, oleander, and mountain laurel, all parts of the rhododendron bush are poisonous with such horrible effects as paralysis, seizures, and coma. Even sucking nectar from the blossoms or eating honey from bees that had frequented the bushes could cause a life-threatening reaction.

  “Jerry, this is a poison anyone could get his hands on.”

  “Anyone who knows his deadly plants, and that sounds even more witchy.”

  I remembered I hadn’t told him about the meaning of the symbols found on Levin’s body. “Speaking of witchy, I looked up the witchcraft symbols. The U’s intersecting on a line stand for money.”