Torrent Witches Box Set #1 Books 1-3 (Butter Witch, Treasure Witch, Hidden Witch)

by Tess Lake

  I wasn’t looking forward to it rolling in.

  Chapter 3

  I walked into Traveler hoping to debrief with my cousins but the place was packed with customers buying coffee. During the International Butter Festival my cousins had purchased a crazily complicated coffee machine from some Russian website. The thing looked like something out of an architect’s nightmare. It was bright red, gigantic, shiny and imposing with buttons all over it. “Fuoco Oscuro” was emblazoned in black letters across the top of it. According to some Italian guy Molly had asked online, that meant “Dark Fire.” Luce had lost half an eyebrow learning how to use it, and more often than not the death coffee machine extracted its fair share of suffering in return for the delicious coffees it delivered. Molly and Luce were always coming home with scratches, burns, cuts and sometimes bruises.

  “Two cappuccinos, whole milk, large,” Molly shouted.

  “Two big fat caps,” Luce yelled back, working the coffee machine like a woman possessed. The coffee machine let out a burst of steam which Luce ducked with practiced ease. Then it yelled something at them in Italian.

  “Hey, Harlow!” Luce called out. I gave her a wave and went to sit on the sofa against the side wall. I must have come at a peak moment – it took a good twenty minutes until Traveler was empty, the final tourist groaning with pleasure as he sipped his coffee on his way out.

  As soon as the last tourist walked out the door, Molly shouted “Done!” and locked it behind him. She flipped the sign from open to closed.

  “Lunchtime,” she declared.

  Behind the counter, Luce hit a few more buttons on the coffee machine. I’m not sure what she was doing entirely. The coffee machine let out another burst of steam and swore at her in Italian, and then there was a series of buzzes and beeps, the voice muttering before it seemed to turn itself down to some sort of waiting state of readiness. Luce emerged from behind the counter, wiping her hands on a towel.

  Both of them had rosy cheeks, but not all of it was due to slaving away making coffee. They also had new boyfriends, and this had produced in both of them a glow that they were making very little effort to hide.

  Not jealous. At all. Promise.

  Okay, a little jealous.

  “We’re making so much money with this coffee machine, it’s crazy,” Molly said. “Harlow, tell her we should make this place into a coffee shop!”

  “I want to make sure it’s not a fad first,” Luce said, although without much conviction. From what I’d seen they’d served at least thirty people in the last half hour, and from what I could tell each of those customers had handed over around ten bucks each. So was that three hundred dollars for half an hour’s work?

  “It looks like it’s going really well,” I said.

  “See? Harlow agrees with me,” Molly said.

  I sat back on the sofa as Molly and Luce started bickering between themselves, rehashing the same argument they’d been having for at least the past week. Molly wanted to jump, Luce wanted to jump, but let’s give it a month or two first. Both of them had good points.

  Business in a tourist town is, unsurprisingly, based very heavily on the tourists. More than one business had thought the good times during the high season would never end, only to discover they had months during the off-season where maybe they would only sell ten bucks worth of stuff. You definitely had to make hay while the sun shined, but then you had to take that hay and keep it for when it was cold.

  Okay, what was I thinking? In this scenario, were we horses?

  “I saw two skeletons today,” I blurted out, interrupting their argument.

  “What you mean? Like, walking around? Some sort of crazy dark magic?” Luce asked. She looked at the front window as though hordes of walking skeletons were about to come rushing over the horizon at any moment.

  “I was out reporting on the obstacle construction for the Gold Mud Run,” I began.

  I told them about the drive out there with crazy Marika, Carter squealing in the backseat, and the construction of the Terror Tower. How the work of digging away the earth had revealed the skeletons of an adult wearing a gold watch and a child. I told them about the sudden feeling of icy cold as I breathed in.

  “So definitely not some old-timey skeleton, not with a gold watch,” Molly said. She shook her head. “This is not gonna be good for the town.”

  “The mayor says tourist numbers are actually up since… well, you know,” Luce said.

  It was bit of a sensitive topic around town. Right on the eve of the International Butter Carving Festival, one of the competitors had been murdered. Then there had been kidnappings and another attempted murder. I’d been frozen at the time but my cousins had told me for a brief moment Harlot Bay had been in the national spotlight. We were the sleepy seaside town suddenly not known for our beautiful beaches, placid surf and the beautiful Truer Island but rather murder, drugging and kidnappings.

  Thankfully the nation’s attention span was short and extremely fickle. Reporters had descended on the town for long enough to obtain footage of them speaking in grave tones with the lazy surf at their back, and then they had all vanished.

  There was a fear around town that the crimes were staining the reputation of Harlot Bay (and you better believe a lot of the media made fun of that name) but unexpectedly the tourist numbers had climbed. People weren’t really sure what to say about it. Tourist numbers being up was profitable for us but no one felt good that it had taken a murder to do it.

  Even Molly and Luce had found themselves fielding questions from interested tourists.

  “A murder here, a dead body there. It soon starts to add up,” Molly said.

  “Did you get a sense of anything else out there?” Luce asked.

  “Only the cold. It’s been kinda hard to shake off.”

  Just then there was a knock on the front door. It was Will Truer, grinning that five-mile-wide smile of his at Luce.

  “Will!” Luce said, rushing over to unlock the door. As soon as it was open, she practically threw herself at him. Will is a landscape gardener. He is also – and I say this without having the slightest bit of romantic interest in him – a damn cute boy with damn strong arms. He caught Luce in those arms and kissed her, lifting her off the ground like she weighed nothing.

  “Hey, Harlow,” Will said once they’d finished kissing in front of us.

  “Hey, Will. How are the gardens going?”

  Will was part of a team of landscapers rejuvenating the local gardens. It was a fairly long project that had been going on for months now. Luce was hoping it would never come to an end because while it was going that meant Will was nearby every day. Not that Harlot Bay is that big – you can practically drive right across it in about ten minutes. But she enjoyed having him in close proximity and visiting him for frequent lunches when she could get away from serving coffee.

  “We’re nearly there. A few more plants and then the watering system will go in and it’s done. Coming to lunch with us?”

  I went to answer, but as I breathed in the air was cold, like ice, again. It felt like when you open a freezer and that chilled air falls out onto you. Behind Will, across the road, I saw the same solemn girl from back on the island. She was looking right at me and I knew in an instant that she was a ghost. The sinking feeling I had been carrying, which had largely vanished around my cousins, came back with full strength. I had no doubt that the bones of the child they’d dug up were going to be hers.

  “Um, maybe. Sorry, I need to check something… I mean, make a phone call,” I said, fumbling my phone out of my pocket.

  I brushed past Will and Luce and went outside. Luce and Molly both knew something was up and looked across the road. It was doubtful they would see anything, though – they didn’t have the gift to see ghosts like Aunt Cass and I did. Sometimes I wished I didn’t have it either. Would have made my life a lot simpler.

  I stopped in front of Traveler (didn’t want to scare her off) and smiled at the girl across the
road. She looked solid, like a real person. I only see one ghost on a regular basis – John Smith. From a distance, he looks solid too but when I get up close I can see through him. The power waxes and wanes, so sometimes ghosts are a shimmer and a faint voice. Sometimes they look as real as you and me.

  “Coming out to lunch, Harlow?” I heard a voice beside me say. It was Ollie, aka Oliver Spencer, Molly’s boyfriend. He was a librarian but never dressed like a librarian. He always looked like a rock star on his day off. He had shaggy black hair and eyes that were green, almost iridescent. Since I’d woken from being frozen (or had returned from my overseas trip, as the lie went) I’d started to get to know both Will and Ollie. Our mothers were beside themselves with glee that their setup dinner had worked so effectively, and now the ongoing battle was Molly and Luce trying to keep them out of their business.

  The moms collectively had only mentioned a few things to me about Jack (he’s single! He’s back in town!). They seemed happy that they’d scored two out of three. I’d been given a pass in consideration of me being frozen for six weeks, but no doubt that would be wearing out soon and then they would turn their focus back to me. Given Jack was in town, there was no way I’d escape it.

  “Hey, Ollie. I might be coming. Sorry, I have to make a call. Molly is inside.”

  He smiled at me and went inside. I heard Molly throw herself at him. Molly and Ollie – their names rhymed and they made a great couple. Luce and Will were very happy too. I tried not to think about it and I definitely was happy for my cousins but all these new changes had seriously disrupted my world. Traveler was no longer the calm sanctuary where we could hang out and customers hardly ever came in to bother us. Luce and Molly were no longer available whenever I wanted them. I really was happy for them but it had taken some adjusting.

  I walked to the edge of the road with my phone out, pretending to look for a number. The ghost girl was still across the other side, watching me. She looked to be about five or six. She had long blond hair and pale blue eyes and was wearing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt with a smiling sun in the middle. It had the word Sunshine! printed underneath it. She was wearing a pair of red sneakers. I glanced behind me and saw that Molly, Luce, Will and Ollie were engaged in conversation inside.

  I turned back to the ghost girl and waved, trying to look as nonthreatening as possible. She gave me a hesitant smile, the way little children do when they’re not really sure what they should be doing. She was on that edge where she might vanish or suddenly grin and start talking to me.

  A busload of tourists went slowly cruising by, some of them waving out the window at Traveler, takeaway coffees in hand. After it passed, I slowly crossed the road, making sure I didn’t come too close to the ghost girl. Once I reached the sidewalk on the other side I looked back at Traveler. No one was watching me. A quick look around – the streets were pretty much empty at this time of day.

  “Hi, I’m Harlow. What’s your name?”

  The girl looked at me warily, her hands clasped in front of her. She was so small and slender. I had a sudden image of the white bones in the black mud, so delicate, and a wash of deep sadness came over me. There were a million things she had missed out on because her life had been cut short by someone. Growing up, her first kiss, graduating school, getting a job. Standing at the front of someone’s house, her heart pounding, the person who would be her future partner behind the door, their heart pounding as well. All of this came and went in an instant – a lifetime of all the joy and happiness, the multitude of experiences compressed into a sudden sting that made my entire body ache like a sore tooth.

  “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you,” I said.

  The little girl looked at me in fear and vanished, leaving me alone on the street.

  I let out a sigh and tried to shake away the sadness that suddenly filled me. I saw John Smith twice a week and it was never like this. No matter if he was frustrated or upset or happy, his mood didn’t really affect mine. I was sure something else was going on here.

  In case the ghost girl was still around, I stood in the empty street and talked to the air.

  “I can see you and I can probably hear you, too. I can be your friend. If you want to talk to me, I live in that big mansion up on top of the hill over there and I come to that shop every day. Please don’t be scared.”

  I waited a moment, thinking perhaps she might reappear, but nothing happened. Everyone emerged from the coffee shop and the door jangled as Luce locked it. Molly waved me across the road.

  “We’re going to the falafel truck,” she called out.

  My stomach grumbled and just like that, the deep sadness evaporated.

  But not entirely.

  Chapter 4

  After a lunch in the park (my falafel came with garlic sauce that I barely tasted as I was mostly distracted thinking about the ghost girl) I drove myself home so I could work. I know it is absolutely one hundred percent stupid that I had a perfectly good office that I was avoiding, but as I said: one thing at a time. Once I’d digested Luce and Molly having boyfriends and the Torrent Mansion being renovated and, I don’t know, Sheriff Hardy losing weight, then I would be ready to go back to my office and face meeting Jack’s half-brother and then probably Jack.

  As I drove up the road to the mansion, the problem of Jack played on my mind. I know to him it appeared I’d made a date and then stood him up by suddenly going overseas without mentioning a single thing to him. But still, there was a little sting of disappointment that he hadn’t come to the mansion to try to talk to me. He hadn’t come to Traveler to seek me out. He knew where my cousins worked. He knew where my office was and he knew where I lived. I know I’m being stupid. Perhaps he thought I wasn’t interested and was keeping away but I couldn’t help but be a little disappointed.

  There were three work trucks parked at the main entrance of the Torrent Mansion. It was the builders JM King and Sons. I wasn’t sure if any of them actually were JM King and/or his sons. I think maybe it was one of those family businesses that had grown and then was sold off, because none of the workers looked like they were related. There were six of them at the moment slowly renovating the interior of the mansion. My mom and aunts didn’t have enough money to renovate the whole mansion in one go, so they were working from the inside out, fixing up rooms, shoring up the floors to make it safe and habitable for visitors.

  The moms were currently all at the bakery, so Aunt Cass had taken it upon herself to appoint herself as de facto project leader. The renovations were progressing quite quickly, actually. I’m not sure if that was because JM King and Sons were quite good, or if they just wanted to get away from Aunt Cass.

  I drove past the front of the mansion and down to our end (the East Wing, as we jokingly called it). Adams must’ve heard me coming, because he appeared in the window, meowing at me.

  I parked the car and walked inside. The entire time, Adams was meowing like he’d never eaten in his entire life and I was finally home to rescue him from starvation. He was waiting behind the front door. As soon as I opened it he flung himself on the floor and started rolling around and purring, looking up at me.

  “I’m so hungry,” Adams said.

  “That is some excellent rolling from the young North Carolinian. Will he be able to enter the Olympics? Let’s see what the judges think.”

  “If I don’t eat soon I’m gonna die,” Adams said, stretching.

  “Didn’t I feed you this morning?” I asked him.

  “No, you forgot. I think you are remembering you fed me yesterday and you’re confusing the two memories, but I didn’t get fed this morning.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, definitely. I haven’t eaten for days.”

  Adams sat up and tried to look as mournful and thin as possible. I picked him up off the ground and he snuggled into me. He smelled like cinnamon sugar. No doubt he had been at the bakery today. The moms had given up on trying to stop him from sleeping inside the pizza oven (which
ran at about 400 degrees) and had taken a different tack by setting up a luxurious bed for him in the storeroom. Adams had taken one look at it, given it a derisive sniff and then jumped into the empty cardboard box sitting next to it. He still got into the pizza oven every now and again but now he mostly slept in the cardboard box.

  “Did you eat a donut at the bakery?”

  “I haven’t eaten ever,” Adams said from somewhere under my chin. I scratched the back of his neck and he kept purring. I carried him over to the fridge and with one hand managed to get out a block of cheese, open it, cut off a piece for myself and then break off a small chunk for him.

  Adams gulped it down in record time. As soon as he was finished (his dying hunger apparently forgotten now), he took himself over to the sofa to start having a bath.

  I took out my laptop and settled down at the kitchen table, briefly wondering whether I really needed to eat some cheese after having a fairly large falafel lunch. I gave my thighs a quick prod. They felt about the same. Was I getting a little more squishy?

  I was waiting for my old laptop to come to life when I got the sudden feeling that someone was watching me.

  “There’s a little dead kid outside,” Adams said and kept licking his leg.

  The ghost girl was watching me through the window. As soon as I stood up, she backed away. I rushed to the front door and opened it to see a flash of yellow (her T-shirt) disappearing around the side of the mansion. I followed, jogging down the front of the house and around the corner.

  I caught a glimpse of the girl as she vanished into the woods behind the mansion. I followed as quickly as I could. I passed the tree line and ran through a small clearing that contains, and I’m not kidding, an actual catapult. Luce got obsessed with fantasy books when she was a teenager and decided to complete a project. The project being a full-size catapult that actually fires. She built it, tested it a few times and then covered it up and left it out here.