Witches of Palmetto Point Series Boxset Books 1 - 3: Haunting Charlie, Wayward Spirits and Devil's Snare

by Wendy Wang

  “So—” Charlie tapped her fingers against the back of her knuckles. “This is very weird.”

  “That’s my fault I’m afraid. I scared you.”

  Charlie pressed her lips together and stared at him. A fluorescent bulb buzzed overhead. Of course, she sensed death – he was a mortician for god’s sake. He was so handsome it almost hurt to look at him. Finally, she whispered, “Yes. You did. A little.”

  “Well, I am sorry for that.” He drummed his fingers on the table and the soft sound filled the awkward space between them. “So, how long have you lived here?”

  “I grew up here. What about you?”

  “My family has lived in Charleston almost three hundred years.”

  “A true Charlestonian. You’re a rare bird. I take it you live downtown?”

  “Actually, I just sold my house so I could be closer to my work. I’m renting a beach house in the meantime.”

  “Nice. I love the beach. So why Palmetto Point?”

  “It just seemed like the right move. We’ve lost a lot of business west of the Ashley not having a branch here. My brother and I had talked about it for a while and finally just bit the bullet.”

  A petite young woman with blue hair approached the table and set down a very full glass of iced tea in front of each of them. A little tea splashed onto the table in front of Charlie hitting her pinky finger. The young woman walked off unapologetically.

  Charlie grabbed her napkin and wiped off her hand, then mopped up the iced tea. She sighed. “That girl still needs to learn some skills.”

  “Indeed, she does. Should we tell your cousin?” He asked glancing around for Jen.

  It struck her as odd how formal his speech was sometimes. Charlie gave him a wry smile. “No point. She already knows. But the girl's mother works here as well so —”

  “I see.” He nodded. “Nepotism is rampant in my industry as well.”

  “Sure. You just said you work with your brother.” She nodded. “What do you do exactly?”

  Tom leaned forward a little bit. His intense gaze bore into her. Charlie's breath caught in her throat and heat crept up her neck into her cheeks. He was so handsome it hurt.

  “I’m a,” a sly grin played at the corners of his lips, “mortician. Funeral Director. Unnnder-taker.”

  Charlie shifted in her seat but couldn’t look away.

  He laughed. “I have a question for you now.” Tom leaned against the cushioned chair back, reaching into his pocket, breaking his spell over her. He pulled a silver engraved business card case and placed it on the table in front of him. His long nimble fingers lifted the metal flap, revealing business cards. His thumb brushed across the top one, sliding it out of the case. He closed the flap and pushed the case aside then handed her the card. “That's you? Right?”

  Charlie took the pale cream card and read it. Her name was printed on it in a simple script—Charlie Payne—Psychic Medium. Lisa had helped her pick out the paper and font. “Go with simple,” Lisa had said. “Direct. Classic. It will make you look serious. Put a ghost or a crystal ball on there and people will think it’s a joke.”

  “Where did you get this?” Charlie picked up the card and stared at it.

  “I was at the hair salon down the street. I overheard one of the ladies talking about you, and the stylist handed her your card. I asked her about it and she gave me one too. Said you were very good. The best actually.”

  “Daphne,” Charlie muttered. She would promptly kill her youngest cousin the next time she saw her. Daphne wasn’t supposed to just hand these out to everybody.

  “You know her?”

  “Yes. She’s one my cousins.”

  “I see. So, it is you? Isn't it? There can’t be two Charlie Paynes in a town this small, can there?”

  Charlie sighed. “It's me.”

  “So much resignation in that tone.” He chuckled. “Almost as if you don't want to be the girl on that card.”

  “I am the girl on the card,” she said. Whether I want to be or not, she added mentally. Charlie looked him straight in the eye. “Usually when people hand me my card it's because they want a reading, but they don't want to say it out loud. Do you want a reading or are you looking to connect with a loved one that’s passed on?”

  His golden-brown eyes glittered and his lips twisted into a wry grin. He scratched the side of his face, his fingers raking across the top of his well-trimmed beard. “I don't need to know my future, and there’s no one I really want to talk to on the other side.”

  It was subtle—the lilt in his tone—but it reeked of skepticism. She scraped the short edge of the card against her fingers. Tom’s face softened and the hint of smirk she’d seen a few minutes ago disappeared. He took a long sip of his iced tea and let his gaze drift around the restaurant, his expression indiscernible.

  “It’s okay if you don’t believe. You wouldn’t be the first person to doubt.”

  Tom brought his focus back to her. His eyes tightened, causing tiny wrinkles to appear but he didn’t say anything. He just stared at her and she wondered, was he trying to make her uncomfortable? He could try all he wanted. Charlie smiled, unafraid to meet his intense gaze with her own.

  “You know, it won’t hurt my feelings one bit if you’d rather not sit with me,” Charlie said softly.

  His brows tugged together and a deep line formed between them. The wrinkles around his eyes deepened, making him appear older than he looked. “Is that what you want?”

  Charlie shrugged. “I don’t care either way. You’re not the first to look at me like I’m crazy. Or worse.”

  He made an indignant noise in the back of his throat. “You don’t have a very high opinion of yourself, do you?” Charlie opened her mouth to protest but he cut her off. “It might surprise you what I believe in. The things I’ve seen would even make someone like you scratch her head.”

  Charlie stifled a laugh. “Really? I don’t know. I’ve seen some really weird stuff.”

  “Tell me something, do you even have a dog?”

  “A dog?”

  “Yes. You said you’d lost your dog in the woods the other day.”

  Charlie thought for a moment. It had been stupid to lie. She never remembered when she did and almost always got caught. She sighed.

  “So, no dog,” he said. A smirk played at the corners of his mouth. “Why were you in the woods. Were you looking for a ghost? What did you say her name was?”

  “Trini,” Charlie whispered.

  “Trini.” He nodded, recognition dawning in his eyes. “Yes. She’s dead, right?”

  “Maybe?” Charlie asked. His left eyebrow quirked and his lips twisted with doubt. “Yes. So? What’s your point?” Charlie glanced around. Maybe she should be the one to get up and move. The dinner crowd had already moved in, though, and the only empty seats were at the lunch counter.

  “Why didn’t you just tell me that?”

  “Um, exactly how would that go? Hi, I’m Charlie your local psychic. I’m looking for a little ghost girl; have you seen her? She’s about yeah high,” Charlie gestured the girl’s height. “Oh and by the way, are you a serial killer wandering around the woods looking for your next victim? That would’ve gone over beautifully, I’m sure.”

  His expression shifted, starting with his mouth. He bit his lips together, as if he were trying not to smile. Not to laugh at her.

  “What?” Charlie snapped.

  “You thought I was a serial killer?”

  “I thought –” She clenched her jaw and blew out a breath. “Yes. I did. You appeared out of nowhere, looking like you’d just left a funeral.”

  His expression morphed again, becoming more solemn. “That’s because I had just left a funeral.”

  “Oh.” Her cheeks flooded with heat. “Isn’t that your job?”

  “Yes. But sometimes it’s difficult. Sometimes I need to take a break. Which is what I was doing.”

  “What happened?”

  A deep sadness rolled off him
in a heavy wave, crashing over her. Being sensitive enough to see the dead and sometimes the future or past also meant being sensitive enough to feel what others felt. What the world felt. Her breath caught in her throat at the intensity of his emotion and she curled her fingers, digging her nails into her palms. For a second the shadows beneath his eyes darkened, and his high carved cheekbones appeared sharper. If it had not been for his skin and beard, she would’ve sworn a skeleton was sitting across from her.

  “Nothing. It doesn’t matter now. Especially since you let me apologize and invited me to sit with you.” A gentle smile curved his lips.

  Charlie blinked and his face returned to normal, maybe even handsomer than before. She shifted in her seat.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “Huh? Yes. I’m fine.” She mustered a weak smile. “Just hungry. And I didn’t really invite you. Jen did.”

  “What did Jen do?” Jen asked placing Charlie's plate in front of her first.

  “You invited Tom to eat with me.”

  “I did.” A proud grin stretched Jen’s lips. She put Tom’s plate down and placed her hands on her hips. In her most cheerful voice, she said, “Now, is there anything else I can get you?”

  Tom leaned over his plate and closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. “It smells divine.”

  “Well, let’s hope your taste buds survive the heat and agree with you.” Jen smirked and pulled a bottle of hot sauce from the front pocket of her apron, placing it next to Charlie’s plate. “I’m not so worried about your taste buds. I know you burned them out long ago.”

  Charlie glared at her cousin. “I think that’s all we need.”

  Jen ignored Charlie’s pointed look. “Okay. Call me if you need me.”

  “We will.” Charlie narrowed her eyes trying to make it clear that she knew exactly what Jen was up to. Jen grinned and walked away. Charlie shook her head.

  “I swear,” she muttered.

  “Everything all right?” Tom asked and unfolded his napkin. He placed it on his lap, pulled the top bun off the burger and reached for the ketchup.

  “Yes, perfect.” Charlie gave him a reassuring smile and unscrewed the cap of the hot sauce.

  Tom squeezed a fair amount of ketchup onto his burger and eyed the hot sauce in Charlie’s hand. “You know, I haven't known you very long but you do that a lot. Can I have that?”

  “Do what?” Charlie handed him the small bottle filled with dark orange liquid and a habanero pepper and crossed bones on the label.

  “Smile like everything is just fine.”

  “Everything is just fine.”

  “Is it? If your cousin's behavior upsets you, I’d like to hear about it.” He put the top bun in place and grabbed hold of the burger, holding it up to his lips. “If you’d like to share that is.” He opened his mouth and took a bite.

  Charlie leaned against the seat back and gaped at him. “I'm not upset.” She protested but it was a lie. “And what happens between my cousin and me is our business.”

  “Of course,” he said apologetically. “I wasn't trying to pry. I'm just trying to tell you that I find you fascinating. If you don't want to discuss it that's fine, but there's no need to placate me for the sake of politeness.”

  “I think my grandmother would disagree with you.”

  He swallowed his bite. A sheen of sweat appeared on his face. “Indeed.”

  “It’s hot, isn’t it,” Charlie smiled.

  Tom wiped his mouth with his napkin and took a long sip off his iced tea. “It is. But it’s good, although I think I’m going to need more tea.”

  Charlie laughed. “You know, I appreciate your concern, I really do but I’m good. Really.”

  “Well, in case you change your mind. I’m a very good listener. It seems you and I both deal in death. We may have more in common than you could ever imagine.”

  “I don’t know about that.” She dipped an onion ring in hot sauce and took a bite.

  “Well, I bet we do, and honestly, I’d like to get to know you better to find out if I’m right.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He put his burger down and wiped the corner of his mouth. “Have dinner with me.”

  “In case you didn’t notice, I am having dinner with you.”

  “Yes, I know but I mean – a date. You know. I pick you up, pay for dinner. We take a walk on the beach. Talk.”

  “Wait? You’re not paying for dinner? Well, that’s it,” she teased picking up her plate. “I’m going to eat at the counter.”

  Tom stared at her a moment, his eyes wary, as if he wasn’t sure if she was joking or not. “What?”

  Charlie chuckled and put her plate back down on the table. She leaned forward with her elbows on the table and looked him straight in the eye. “I really don't know what to say. The last time a man told me he wanted to get to know me better was my ex-husband, when I was twenty years old. I’m a little rusty.”

  “Me too,” he smiled. “It’s been eons since the last time I was interested in someone.”

  “Now that’s just sad.” Charlie picked up her burger and took a bite. Hot sauce dribbled from the corner of her mouth, scalding her face a little. She quickly grabbed her napkin and wiped away the burning liquid. Despite their first encounter, she had to admit, something about Tom Sharon was intriguing. “Well, I’m not saying yes. But —” She smiled. “I’m also not saying no.”

  “So maybe?” He asked sounding hopeful.

  Charlie nodded. “Definitely, maybe.”

  His dark golden eyes glittered and he returned her smile. “Good.”

  Jason was sitting on the front porch of the cottage when she arrived. She pulled her Honda next to his Dodge Charger and waved as she got out.

  “Have you been waiting long?”

  “No, just a couple minutes really.” He stood up and smoothed the fabric of his khaki pants. He pointed to the glass paned front door. “You really should think about a dead bolt.”

  “Okay.” Charlie chuckled. Her keys jangled in her hand. “I’ll let my uncle know you think so.”

  “I could change it for you if you’d like.”

  “Thanks, but since it’s my uncle’s property.”

  “Evangeline used to live here, right?”

  “Yeah, she did.” Charlie put the key into the lock and turned it. “After Jen and Lisa’s mom died, she moved in here with Daphne to help take care of them.” Charlie breathed in the cool air of the house and flipped on the light switch.

  “Interesting.” Jason followed her inside. “I’ve always wondered if there was ever anything between them.”

  “Between Uncle Jack and Evangeline? No way.” Charlie dropped her tote by the front door and hung her keys on a small hook near the coat rack. “Why do you ask?”

  “I don’t know, just nosy I guess. They seem pretty tight.”

  “They are. But trust me there is nothing romantic between them.”

  Jason took a seat on the pale yellow armchair and put one leg up on the matching ottoman. He glanced around the room. “Your uncle did a nice job with the painting.”

  “Thanks. I love this color.”

  “It’s cream.” Jason said, a flabbergasted grin on his lips. “You don’t get more vanilla than cream.”

  Charlie laughed. “I know. But it’s a soothing shade of cream and during the day when there’s light streaming in through the windows —” She put her hands on the top of the rocking chair on the opposite side of the old trunk she was using as a coffee table and glanced at the bank of windows behind the blue and white stripped couch. “It’s bright and cheerful in here. Feels like a home.”

  Jason smiled. “Yeah, I can see that. So how was your day?”

  Charlie pointed over her shoulder toward the tiny kitchen. “You want something to drink?”

  “Nah, I’m good.” He put both feet on the floor and laid the folder he’d carried with him on the ottoman. Charlie sank into the couch and let out a heavy breath.

&nb
sp; “That bad, huh?”

  “Not bad exactly, just weird. I ran into Tom Sharon,” she said.

  “Really?” Jason’s voice sounded funny but she couldn't pinpoint why.

  “Yeah. He said he was checking out eating places. In town. You know they opened a new branch of their funeral home in Palmetto Point, which makes sense. I guess this way the islanders don't have to go very far.” She shrugged one shoulder.

  “Huh.” Jason narrowed his eyes. “He told you all that?”

  “Yep, over dinner.”

  “Huh.”

  She had never seen the expression on Jason's face before and if she didn't know better she would have thought he was jealous. “What?”

  “You were terrified of him yesterday and today you’re eating dinner with him?”

  “I was not scared of him,” she protested.

  “Uh huh. Whatever you say.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Jason scowled and shook his head. “Nothing. It doesn't mean anything.”

  “Are you mad at me?”

  “No of course not.” He said the words smoothly, but Charlie sensed otherwise.

  “You're lying to me. Why are you lying to me?”

  “I'm not lying, Charlie. I'm glad you're not scared of the guy. By all accounts he’s a clean, upstanding member of society.”

  “Good, because I gave him my number.”

  “Great. That’s just . . . fantastic. So, are you gonna help me with my case or what?”

  “That's what you're here for, isn't it?”

  “Yes. It is.”

  “Well, let’s take a look at what you've got. There's also something I'd like to talk to you about, something a little more personal if that's okay.”

  “Sure, what about?”

  “I want to take my ex-husband back to court for custody of my son.”

  “Good.” Jason's face became serious. “It's about damn time.”

  “Well, now I have to find a good lawyer.” Charlie leaned her elbow against the arm of the couch and propped up her head.

  “I know somebody.” Jason pulled his notebook and a pen from his front pocket and scribbled on a piece of paper. He ripped the paper from the notebook and handed it to Charlie.