by Raven Snow
Instead, Rowen had woken to a call from Aunt Lydia. “Hello?” she had answered, still half-asleep. The sun wasn’t even all the way up yet.
“Your mother is missing,” Aunt Lydia announced over the phone, effectively waking Rowen up the rest of the way.
“What?” asked Rowen, sitting up in bed. Eric stirred beside her. He must have heard the tone of alarm in her voice, because he sat up as well. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, she went out last night and didn’t come back,” said Aunt Lydia. “She told us she might be home late, and we warned her. Oh, we warned her we had to get up early. Today is a busy day, you know. It’s only the biggest day of our lives!”
Rowen thought that might be a bit of an overstatement. It was a pretty important day, though. She would give her that. “Do you have any idea where she might be? Did you try calling her?”
“Of course I tried calling her!” Aunt Lydia snapped, sounding annoyed that Rowen had even felt the need to ask a question with such an obvious answer. “She has it turned off. Nadine and I believe she’s with a man.”
That explained it. Rowen relaxed against the headboard. Seeing that she was no longer in any great distress, Eric flopped back onto his side. Rowen wished she could do the same. “She’ll be at the opening,” said Rowen. She wasn’t sure of that. Knowing Tiffany, she could have very well skipped town with a new suitor. Rowen wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt and say that she knew better, that she was past that now. She also didn’t want to worry Aunt Lydia prematurely. “She might be a little late, is all.”
“She can’t be late!” said Aunt Lydia, sounding like that was her largest fear at the moment. “We have too much to set up!”
Rowen could see where she was going with this. “I’ll help set up,” she said. She might as well give in now. It seemed inevitable. “Just give me a minute to get ready, and I’ll head over there.”
There was no point in making Eric suffer too. She let him sleep in and got dressed quietly. She headed to the site of the store in the dark and found that she wasn’t the only one that had gotten roped into helping out. Peony and Willow were there as well.
Rowen found her cousins standing outside the door. It seemed neither of them had a key and, despite her concerns, Aunt Lydia wasn’t actually there yet. The sisters were dressed for running. It seemed likely they had gone for a morning run with their training. Margo wasn’t there. That came as no shock whatsoever. Rowen was certain that Margo was still sound asleep in her bed and had come up with one excuse or another. She was good at coming up with excuses.
Willow and Peony hadn’t come alone. There was a man with them that Rowen didn’t recognize. He was reasonably good-looking with close cropped chestnut hair and a lithe physique. He was wearing mesh shorts that showed off the well-formed legs of a runner.
“Aunt Lydia called you too, huh?” asked Peony.
“She’s not here yet,” added Willow, stating the obvious.
“This better not happen on normal business days,” said Rowen, shoving her hands in her pockets as she went to wait next to her cousins.
“Oh,” said Peony, as if suddenly remembering the person with them. “This is Liam Woodward.” She indicated the man standing beside her.
Liam stepped forward. He offered Rowen his hand, which she shook. “It’s good to finally meet you,” he said. “Your cousins talk a lot about you. I hear you moved into my old home.”
Rowen nodded. “It’s a great place. You should swing by sometime. Let us know whether or not you approve of what we’re doing with it.” Rowen was just trying to be friendly. Unless he got involved with Peony, she didn’t actually expect to have him over for dinner any time soon.
“Whatever you’re doing, I’m sure it’s an improvement,” said Liam. “I’m afraid that place was a little rough when we put it up for sale.”
“It had great energy,” Rowen assured him. “That’s what’s most important in choosing a home, I think.” Liam raised an eyebrow at that, but didn’t actually bring up the strange wording. Rowen pressed on before he could. “So, did Peony have a chance to bring up the whole dog thing?”
Liam raised his eyebrows again and rocked back on his heels. “She did, actually.” He paused. “We had a family dog, but…It’s been a long time. He stayed with my parents when I left home. I can’t imagine he’s still around.”
Rowen pulled out her phone. She had taken more than a few pictures of Chester since they had adopted him. She showed the one she was using as her phone’s wallpaper to Liam.
Liam gave a whistle. “Well, I’ll be,” he said, sounding genuinely surprised. “That definitely looks like him.”
Rowen’s heart sank just a bit. “My husband is supposed to meet me here later today. I can have him bring the dog along, if you−”
“Oh, no,” Liam interrupted quickly. “I don’t have room for a dog. I live in an apartment. Besides, I doubt he would even remember me.”
“What about your parents?” asked Rowen.
“Hmm?” Liam gave her a puzzled look, then seemed to realize. He shook his head. “Goodness, no,” he said. “They have a hard enough time just taking care of themselves these days, if I’m being honest. I don’t think they could deal with a dog. We’d have to get it all the way to Florida, and that dog must be ancient by now. No, I’ll let them know, but I think he’s found a good home with you.”
Rowen couldn’t help being glad to hear all of that. “I’ll take some pictures,” she offered quickly. “He seems happy. If they ever come back to Lainswich, they have to visit.”
Liam nodded and smiled. “I’m sure they’d like that,” he said. “I’m just blown away hearing the little guy is still alive.”
“What was his name?” Rowen asked, suddenly curious. It had just occurred to her that they had to call the dog something when they had him. She hated to call him something else, but if he already had a name, it seemed weird not to use it.
“Hmm?” Liam seemed an absentminded sort. His gaze had already grown a bit distant. It was like he had thought they were done with their conversation and just tuned out. He looked back at Rowen. “Oh, ah, I think it was…Charles? No! Chester. His name was definitely Chester.
Rowen clapped her hands together, thrilled. “I told him!” she said, startling everyone standing beside her. “I told Eric he looked like a Chester!”
Aunt Lydia showed up a little while later in a very bad mood. Aunt Nadine didn’t seem nearly as concerned. “She’ll show up,” Aunt Nadine told Rowen, privately, when she arrived.
Sure enough, Tiffany arrived shortly after Eric did. She was full of apologies, but Aunt Lydia didn’t want to hear any of them. That seemed fair enough. Rowen could never completely forgive her mother for skipping out on the majority of her childhood. She didn’t mind Tiffany being reprimanded for flaking out on others. Rowen did wonder at who this new guy of hers was, though. She hoped this wasn’t the beginning of something. Tiffany had a tendency to run off with men and disappear for years at a time. The last time had been with a murderer, not that she had known that then.
The rest of the set-up went smoothly. They had more than enough people there taking care of things. Aside from Rowen’s cousins and aunts, there was David and Eric. Liam had stuck around for a little while before continuing on with his jog. Roland had come. He was certainly proving to be a good friend to the family ever since Rowen had saved his life from one of Tiffany’s murderous exes.
Ben had promised to show up later. Being the police chief, he had a full schedule already. Rowen just hoped that they didn’t need him or his men before then.
Fortunately—or unfortunately, depending on who you asked—the day was rather uneventful. “I’m sure we would have had a bigger turn out if you had written about this in your paper,” Aunt Lydia had said with a sigh, like she was talking to herself.
Rowen didn’t point out that she had written about the grand opening. She just hadn’t wanted to write about it every day. Instead, Rowe
n escaped to the back, where her mother was reading fortunes. No one was in the back at the moment, and Rowen found Tiffany flipping Tarot cards idly, shuffling them as she sat.
“So, where were you today?” asked Rowen, plopping down in the chair across from her.
Tiffany looked up and rolled her eyes at Rowen. “I wasn’t gone for that long,” she said. “We had everything handled. Your Aunt Lydia just overreacted. You know how she can be.”
“Yeah, I do,” said Rowen. “And I was on the receiving end of that. I had to come in early today to help set up. She called before the sun was even out.”
Tiffany cringed. “Sorry about that,” she said, sounding like she meant it. “The time just got away from me.”
“Were you with a man?” asked Rowen. She already knew the answer to that.
“Maybe,” said Tiffany, looking back down at the cards in hand. “Let me read your fortune,” she continued, being evasive.
Rowen knew from experience that she wasn’t going to get an answer from her any time soon. “Fine,” she said instead.
Tiffany set her cards aside. The tarot cards were mostly for show. People liked them because they were something people recognized. There was a crystal ball on the table for the same reason. Neither was Tiffany’s favorite sort of divination. No, Tiffany much preferred her scrying mirror.
The mirror was a black one kept in a velvet pouch. Rowen remembered it well from her childhood. She had gazed into the blackness of its surface for hours at a time in her teenage years. She had never been able to see anything. Rowen didn’t have the same talents for divination that her mother had.
Tiffany propped the mirror on the table and stared into it. For several long minutes, she was quiet. “I’m seeing something,” she said. She frowned. “I’m not sure what it is. It looks like trouble.”
Rowen wasn’t surprised to hear that. Trouble never seemed to stray very far from her. “What kind of trouble are we talking about, here?” asked Rowen. She wasn’t excited to hear about it, but it was undoubtedly better to be forewarned about this sort of thing. “It’s not problems with Eric, is it?”
“No,” Tiffany said immediately. “It’s nothing like that. I see him in here, but I don’t believe he’s the problem.” Tiffany narrowed her eyes, like she was trying to see something very far away. “I’m seeing people, but I’m not sure who they are.”
“What do they look like?” asked Rowen.
“Hard to say,” said Tiffany. She leaned in closer, until her nose was practically touching the mirror. “A man, I think. And a woman. They’re trying to communicate with me, but…” Tiffany shook her head. “It’s mostly just an impression of a person, I think. Maybe they passed a long time ago. If that’s the case, then they don’t even know I’m here. They’re trying to make contact with anyone when they’re long gone themselves.”
“Can you see anything else?” asked Rowen, disappointed. From the sound of it, she wouldn’t be able to contact these people later. She wondered what it was that tied them to her. She thought she might know, but she didn’t want to jump to any conclusions.
Tiffany gave a sigh. She sat back a bit, still watching her mirror. Rowen knew that she was letting the images inside play out before her. You had to be passive with things like this. ‘Let the visions come to you,’ her mother would say. “I see your house,” said Tiffany. “There’s Eric…He’s on the phone.” Tiffany’s blank expression became a slight frown. “I think he might be having some trouble with his parents.”
“What about?” asked Rowen, feeling oddly more concerned about this news than her undecipherable mystery message.
“You’ll need to talk with him about that, dear,” said Tiffany. “I don’t think it’s right for me to listen in.”
Rowen was sure that Tiffany would be happy to listen in. She probably was right now. She didn’t quite have Aunt Lydia’s appetite for gossip, but she could be more than a little nosy. Since this pertained to her daughter, that probably wasn’t too surprising.
“I’m seeing just your home again, and…” Tiffany trailed off and leaned back a bit. “I’m not sure what I’m seeing here, but it’s…It’s not nice at all.”
“What is it?” asked Rowen.
“What did I just say?” Tiffany asked, rolling her eyes at such an obvious question. “If I knew what I was looking at, I would tell you. As it stands, I haven’t the faintest idea.”
“Is it still my house?” asked Rowen.
Tiffany nodded. “I think…I think something terrible must have happened there.”
Rowen didn’t mention that she had had the same impression. She hadn’t mentioned the shed incident to anyone except Eric. Instead of saying as much now, she only listened.
“Something bad happened there,” Tiffany said with a bit more certainty. “I can’t tell what it was or where it happened. I…” Tiffany trailed off again. Without warning, she lowered her mirror and shoved it back into its pouch. I don’t want to look at this anymore. Did you know about this?”
Rowen nodded. “I haven’t known for long, but yeah. I sensed something in that house,” she said. She didn’t much like coming clean with her mother like this. Now Tiffany would just worry, and no good would come of that. “I’ve got it under control.” She didn’t, but it seemed worth trying to convince her of that. “I’ve got a few ideas of what it could be.” Speaking of which, Rowen heard a familiar voice out in the store. “I’ll talk to you later, Mom,” she said, and hurried out. She ignored her mother, insisting that they should talk about the situation longer.
Ben had arrived. He was standing with an arm around Rose, talking to Aunt Lydia. She was all smiles, asking probing question after probing question. “So, things are still going well between you two, hmm?”
“I’d like to think so,” said Ben, forcing a smile.
“They’re going fine, Mother,” Rose said, in a warning sort of tone. She knew how her mother could be better than anyone.
“That’s good,” said Aunt Lydia. It was difficult to tell whether she actually meant that or not. Rowen wasn’t sure where she stood on her approval of the relationship between Ben and her daughter. “You must like the Greensmith family an awful lot, hmm?” she asked, clearly making a nod to the fact that Ben had once dated Rowen.
“That was a long time ago,” Ben said, forcing a smile.
“Back in high school,” added Rose, still glaring at her mother.
Rowen picked her moment to step in. “Do you think I could have a word with Ben really quick?” she asked.
“Please,” said Rose, giving her boyfriend a gentle nudge in Rowen’s direction. It looked like she wanted to have a word with her mother alone.
Ben went with Rowen, looking a bit uncertain about it. He probably didn’t think it was the best time to go off alone with someone he had dated in the past. He went with her anyway, following her to the corner, between a shelf of incense and a shelf of candles.
“Chill out,” said Rowen. “Aunt Lydia’s all bark and no bite. She’s not even all that much bark really. If you were dating anyone else in the family, she would be absolutely fine with it. She’s just a little overprotective when it comes to her daughter.”
“Apparently,” said Ben, glancing back briefly in her direction. “I always thought she liked me back when I was dating you.”
“She did,” Rowen assured him. “She actually preferred you to Eric. I think she flat-out said as much once.”
A smile tugged at the corner of Ben’s mouth. Those were the words he needed to hear. All he really needed to do was stick this relationship out, which he appeared to have every intention of doing. Aunt Lydia would come around eventually. “What did you need?” he asked.
“I was wondering if you would do me a favor,” said Rowen. “Do you think you could look into the history of my house?”
“The history?” asked Ben, looking rightly puzzled by the question. “What sort of history are we talking?”
“Were any crimes committed in
the house?” asked Rowen. She was guessing some kind of murder. Maybe she was jumping the gun, but her mind had a tendency to jump to some worst case scenarios when it came to things like this. “Maybe someone owned it before the Woodwards did.”
Ben shook his head. “I know the house,” he said. “I knew it before you moved in. It’s been the Woodward’s family home for as long as I can remember. My parents talked about it sometimes. It’s old—goes back a couple of generations, I think.”
“And nothing horrible ever happened there?” he asked.
“Not that I know of,” said Ben. “If you have a heinous crime in Lainswich, you generally hear about it at some point.”
Rowen had to give it to him there. She had grown up in this town, after all. If there had been a murder that was reported, it would have been an urban legend while she was growing up. Kids had loved to tell scary stories back then. Rowen and her family had been the subject of more than a few of them. “Were there any lesser crimes, then?” she asked.
“I’ll take a look,” Ben offered. “But I don’t think so. I looked into it briefly when Rose said you and Eric were moving in. I didn’t really trust that woman who represented the property. I never met her, but Rose had a really low opinion of her.”
“I’m right there with you,” said Rowen with a smirk. “Anything shady in her past?”
“Just a long and colorful work history,” said Ben. “Seems she’s not the best at her job…Or any job, for that matter.”
“I’m shocked,” said Rowen, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
Ben seemed to remember something then. “There is a brother,” he said. “One of the Woodwards.”
“Danny?” asked Rowen. He was the one Aunt Lydia had mentioned.
Ben nodded. “That’s the one. He’s been in some trouble. Minor stuff, mostly.” Ben gave a shrug. “I’m not sure if that’s any help. I don’t think he would be the sort to commit murder.”
