Waterside Witchery (Lainswich Witches Book 12)

by Raven Snow

  “I’m very sorry to hear about your loss,” said Rowen. It was the standard thing to say. It was what people expected to hear when they shared something like that.

  Edith nodded. “Thank you. I’m lucky, I think… Despite what happened, I mean. The community around here has been very supportive. You should have seen them yesterday. They were really out here in full force. I bet they would be here today if I hadn’t told them I wanted a day to myself. I feel like I need to collect my thoughts about what happened.”

  “Can you walk me through that?” asked Rowen. “What happened, I mean. The press release was very vague. I don’t know what you’re allowed to share, but I’d appreciate some insight into recent events if that’s all right with you.”

  “Oh, well… I hadn’t seen my husband for about a week, I guess.” Edith’s hands twisted in her lap, and she looked down at them.

  “Did you report him missing to the police?” asked Rowen.

  Edith shook her head. “No, he was on a fishing trip— or he was supposed to be. He’s retired. He owned his own construction company and retired kind of young. He’s real outdoorsy— Was real outdoorsy. He went hunting and fishing a bunch.”

  “And he wouldn’t call you during trips like that?”

  “He liked to keep it simple, liked the solitude. ‘No cell phones growing in the wild,’ he’d say.” Edith gave a strained smile at that. “I honestly thought his fishing trip had just run long. That wasn’t unusual. If I had known, I would have done something. Maybe we could have avoided this.”

  Rowen could tell that she didn’t actually believe that. That was probably for the best. Calling the police likely wouldn’t have helped by the time he was running late. “How long were you married?” she asked, changing gears a bit.

  “I met him right out of high school. That was good, gosh, thirty odd years ago?”

  “You had a good marriage?”

  Edith’s shoulders rose in a small shrug. “It had its ups and downs.”

  “What marriage doesn’t?” Rowen glanced at her own husband before continuing. “Did he have any family around here?”

  “He has a brother and mother who are coming in from out of state for the funeral,” said Edith. “I don’t know him very well if I’m being honest. My Timothy wasn’t all that close to his family since they moved out of Lainswich. Even before that, they didn’t talk or interact a whole bunch.”

  “When are they supposed to get into town?”

  “Well, the funeral is the day after tomorrow. So… The day before that, I suppose?” Edith rubbed at her eyes with her fingers, swiping away fresh tears. “I’m sorry. It’s just so hard to accept all this. It’s like I’m dreaming, and I keep thinking I’m going to wake up.”

  Rowen could feel her discomfort. It was overwhelming. “Do you have any idea about what might have happened to your husband?” she hated to ask, but that seemed like a pretty important question.

  “He was murdered, but I don’t know who did it.” That much was pretty obvious, but at least Edith didn’t seem to be lying about it. “I miss him.”

  Rowen believed that too. “And there’s no one in town you suspect? Did he have any friends? Any enemies?”

  Edith was silent for a few moments. “There aren’t a whole lot of people living in Lichen Hallow. We’re all pretty close. All the people around here knew him. I don’t think he had any enemies.”

  That last part got Rowen’s attention. Something about it rang untrue. “Are you sure?” Rowen pushed. “Even likable people have some folks who dislike them, right?”

  “I guess.” Edith’s brow furrowed, like she wasn’t sure what Rowen was getting at. “I couldn’t really name one particular person. My husband wasn’t as social as I am. And that’s saying something since I’m not very social myself.”

  Rowen was about to follow up on that question when she heard the front door open. Edith jumped. Rowen and Eric looked in the direction of the sound. “Hey, Edith?” called a man’s voice. “What’s that car out front?”

  “It’s a couple of people from a local paper,” Edith called, sitting up a little straighter in her chair.

  “Reporters?” A man stepped into the room. Rowen immediately recognized him from his mugshot. This was Orville Jones, Edith’s brother. He was much more imposing in person. He had to be over six feet tall, and his shoulders were incredibly broad. He didn’t look happy to find Rowen and Eric seated on his sister’s sofa. “What are you doing here?”

  “Just doing our job.” Rowen attempted a smile, but she wasn’t sure he went for it. “We’re writing a story on what happened to the late Mr. Lucas, and Edith here was kind enough to invite us in.”

  Edith nodded. “I didn’t see any harm in it.”

  “They’re leeches, Sis.” Orville gave an exasperated sigh and shook his head. “You can’t just let anyone come in like this.” His gaze turned to Rowen and Eric. It hardened. “You two need to leave. Now.”

  Rowen looked back at Edith. This wasn’t Orville’s house, after all. Edith was the one who had the last say in this. Unfortunately, she seemed to be a very meek woman. She was looking at the floor again, her hands clasped.

  “What did I just say? Get out of here.” Orville took a few threatening steps toward them. Eric quickly stood, putting himself between Orville and his wife.

  Edith finally looked up. “You should probably go,” she told Rowen, her voice soft.

  Rowen was still reluctant to leave, but she nodded. “Thank you for your time,” she told Edith. She stood, leaving her glass of tea untouched on the coffee table. “I really appreciate it.”

  It was Orville that walked them to the door. “Don’t come sniffing around here again,” he told them, firmly. “If I catch you bothering my sister again, you’re really gonna see me mad.”

  “I think your sister can decide that sort of thing for herself.” Rowen couldn’t help it. She didn’t like the tone this man was taking with her.

  “Don’t test me.” With that, Orville slammed the front door in their faces.

  “Well, that went well,” Eric muttered.

  Rowen sighed. “It couldn’t have been worse.” At least she had found out a few things. “I’ve got a feel for Edith’s personality now.”

  “She’s a real pushover,” said Eric, walking to the car.

  “Right.” Rowen followed him. “And I think she has an idea of who killed her husband.”

  “Really?”

  “At the very least, I think she has someone that she suspects.” Rowen climbed in on the driver’s side of the car.

  “I’m betting it was the brother,” said Eric, climbing in on the passenger side.

  Rowen nodded. “He’s definitely on my short list of suspects.”

  “Do you have a long list of suspects?”

  “Not really.”

  “So, what now? Do we go back to Ben?”

  Rowen had already considered that. “Not yet.”

  “You’re gonna try to contact Timothy Lucas, huh?”

  “Yep.” Rowen flashed her husband a smile. He knew her well.

  “Ouija board?”

  “Ouija board.”

  Chapter Eight

  Rowen drove to the Lainswich Inquirer. Given current events, she was certain the bulk of her family would be there. Sure enough, everyone but Margo had come in to work. All three cousins were diligently working on updating the blog and making changes to the printed edition before it released. “There you are,” said Willow when Rowen and Eric entered. “How did it go?”

  “Huh?” Rowen wasn’t quite sure what she could be referring to.

  “Rose said that Ben said you were on some secret, special mission to investigate this murder,” Willow said as if that should be obvious. “How did it go?”

  “We were run off,” said Rowen, dropping her purse onto her desk. “That’s why we’re here, actually. We couldn’t get all the answers we needed out of the wife, so séance it is.”

  “Oooh.” Peony h
appily closed her laptop, clearly eager for a break. “Séance.”

  “Hey, Rose!” Willow shouted toward the back, where Rose’s office was. “Séance!”

  It took a moment for the office door to crack open. Rose peered out, frowning. “There’s a story to do. We don’t have time for a séance.”

  “It won’t take long,” Rowen promised.

  Willow nodded. “Yeah, see? Not a long séance. Just a little one. Come on. We’ve been working all morning.”

  Rose looked back to Rowen. “Is this for Ben?”

  “If we can find anything else out, that would be great. I’d like to tell him I at least tried every angle.” Rowen was already walking toward the storage closet where they kept the Ouija board.

  “I guess we’d better then.” Rose sighed and went to give Rowen a hand in setting up.

  They made their circle of candles inside the storage closet. The Ouija board was placed in the center of it. The lights were shut off and Rowen closed up the circle with her own psychic energy once they were all seated within it. Rowen laid her fingers on the planchette, followed by Willow and Peony. Eric and Rose just watched. “Everyone ready?” asked Rowen.

  Everyone nodded and silence descended on the dark storage room. The candles flickered as Rowen took a deep breath and centered herself. “We’re here today to try and reach Timothy Lucas,” she said in a loud, clear voice. “Timothy Lucas are you here with us?” There was no immediate response, but that wasn’t uncommon. “If you’re here, please give us a sign,” said Rowen after several moments of stillness. There still wasn’t a response.

  “Timothy, are you there?” Peony tried. The planchette went to ‘Yes.’ “Timothy Lucas?” asked Peony. The planchette went to ‘No.’ Peony sighed. “Go away then. You’re not the Timothy we’re looking for.”

  ***

  They tried for a while longer. Eventually, it became clear that they weren’t going to get an answer. “Well, it was worth a shot.” Rowen let go of the planchette.

  “The people who live in Lichen Hallow are supposed to hate witchcraft, right?” asked Rose. “Maybe he doesn’t trust the Ouija board. A man like that might have just moved on.”

  “Maybe,” Rowen conceded. “Either way, I guess I had better give Ben a call and let him know.” She stood and turned on the light. Suddenly, she remembered something else. “Though, while I have you all here, there’s something I should probably mention.” She looked at Peony. “Did you tell them what your mom and Lydia said this morning?”

  “Huh?” asked Peony. “Oh.” She shook her head. “No, I didn’t tell them.”

  “Didn’t tell us what?” asked Rose, her expression turning to one of concern.

  Willow looked a touch scandalized. “You had gossip and you didn’t tell me?” she asked her sister. “Seriously?”

  “Sorry.” Peony shrugged. “I didn’t really want to talk about it… or think about it. I was just kind of hoping it would go away.”

  “I doubt it’s going to go away.” Rowen took a deep breath, steeling herself for their reactions. “Peter and Reginald proposed.”

  “What?” Rose asked, blankly.

  “To who?” asked Willow.

  Eric raised an eyebrow at Willow. “To your mom and aunt.”

  “No.” Willow looked from Eric to Rowen. “Seriously? Are you kidding? I hope you’re kidding.”

  “I’m not kidding.” Rowen certainly wished she was.

  “It’s too soon.” Rose picked up her cell phone. She pressed some buttons like she was going to call her mother. She stopped, her finger hovering above the screen. She probably didn’t even know what she would say. Rowen sympathized with her. This was a tough situation to be in.

  “I still don’t think it’s that big of a deal,” said Eric. “I mean, the Powers are wealthy, right? Lydia and Nadine aren’t going to be out anything if they divorce, prenup or no.”

  Rowen gave her husband what she hoped was a stern look. “Eric, Honey, stay out of this.”

  Eric rolled his eyes but did as he was told. He was heading out of the storage closet with the rest of them when the front door swung open, hard. Margo stormed in, looking absolutely furious. “Lydia and Nadine are both getting married to those weird men they hardly know!” she announced.

  “We heard,” said Rose.

  “I actually told them just a few seconds ago,” said Rowen. “You have pretty lousy timing. What took you so long to get here?”

  “I stayed and tried to talk them out of it!” Margo said that as if it should be obvious. It was more likely that she had just been trying to stall and put off coming to work. She’d been doing better in recent years but had never had stellar work ethics. “I’m surprised no one else is trying to talk them out of it now if you all know.”

  “Is there anything we can actually do about it?” Rose sounded a bit like Eric. “I mean, they’re grown women. They can make their own decisions.”

  “They’re making bad decisions,” Margo clarified, like that needed some distinction. “We need to stage an intervention.”

  “An intervention?” Peony repeated. “Like what you do when someone is on drugs?”

  Margo nodded. “This is just as bad. Maybe worse.”

  “You might be overreacting just a little bit.” Even Rowen was willing to admit that the situation wasn’t quite that dire. She didn’t like it, but she wasn’t quite willing to let her world crumble because of it either.

  “Am I?” Margo asked— a rhetorical question that got nods from everyone in the room anyway. “You all know what happens to the men in our family. Marriages never work out well.”

  “I’ve worked out so far,” Eric pointed out.

  “I’m not sure you count,” said Rowen, glancing at her husband. “I mean, you have some Stonewall blood in you, after all. That makes you different.” They had found out some time ago when Eric had spotted some of his own extended family among a group of Stonewalls attending a funeral. Their blood might very well nullify the usual bad luck Greensmith ladies experienced when marrying men.

  “Surely they know that, though,” Rose pointed out. “They’ve all been with men before. They know the risks better than we do.”

  “Or they’re just lonely,” Willow suggested. “Maybe they don’t really care about how risky it is anymore.”

  “Right. See?” Margo pointed to Willow. “We should stage an intervention and make sure they’re thinking about all of this rationally.”

  “I’m not going to participate in this,” Rose said, shaking her head and heading back to her office. “I’m getting back to work. I suggest everyone else do the same. There’s a lot to get done.”

  Margo watched her go with a scowl. “We don’t need her. We can have an intervention with just us.”

  Rowen wasn’t sure how she felt about this whole intervention thing either, but it sounded like Margo was set on it. She might as well agree just so she could keep an eye on the situation. “Fine,” she relented. “I’m in.”

  “If you’re doing it at the house, well, I live there, so…” Peony trailed off with a shrug like she didn’t have much of a say in all this.

  “Just tell me when,” said Willow.

  “Good.” Margo looked relieved that the bulk of her cousins were with her on this. “Now we just have to figure out what we’re going to say.”

  “I’ll leave you to that.” Rowen headed outside, cell phone in hand. She needed to get in touch with Ben. He would probably be wanting some answers by now.

  “Did you find anything out?” Those were the first words out of his mouth when he answered the phone.

  “The brother doesn’t like me much,” said Rowen.

  “Orville Jones was there while you were questioning her?” Ben sounded interested by that little factoid alone.

  “He showed up once we were already in there. They seem close. At the very least, he’s super protective of her.”

  “Did you get the impression that he might have murdered the husband?�
�

  Rowen considered that question. “It’s too early to say. The wife seems really upset about the murder. I think he’s mostly just trying to comfort her.” Rowen relayed the rest of what she had seen. There hadn’t been a whole lot, so it didn’t take long. “Did I get any info you can actually use?”

  “Your instincts in this are what matter the most to me,” said Ben. “I just like having you on the case when there’s a murder going on.”

  “Aww.” Rowen couldn’t help but be a little flattered. It was nice to be appreciated. “Well, I couldn’t do it all without Eric,” she added quickly, remembering that she should probably give him some credit seeing as he was the official private investigator and all. He raised an eyebrow at her. From where he stood, he could only hear half of the conversation.

  “I’m sure he helped,” said Ben, not sounding terribly interested in that either way. “You said that she doesn’t expect the family in until tomorrow?”

  Rowen thought back to what she had just said. “That’s right.”

  “Hmm.” There was the sound of Ben thumbing through some papers on the other end of the line. “That’s odd.”

  “Why is that odd?”

  “They’re in town already. It says here that they reached out to the Lainswich Police Department yesterday. They’ve been here since, at least, the day of the murder.”

  “Well, that’s interesting.” Rowen wondered if Edith hadn’t known or if she had lied. It had to be the former. Didn’t it? What reason would she have to lie? “Do you want me to go talk to them, too?”

  “I would, actually,” said Ben, surprising Rowen a bit with how agreeable he was being. He must really want her helping him out on this case, like he’d said. “They’re staying at a motel in Tarricville,” Ben continued. That was a relief. For a second there, Rowen had been afraid they would have to sweet talk their way into Lainswich’s only hotel.

  Rowen glanced at the clock on the wall. It was about lunch time. That meant they still had a good bit of the day left to them. “Have you already talked to the Lucas family?”