by Aimée Thurlo
“No, that won’t be necessary. I’m going to be working on the bookkeeping, so I expect it’s going to be quiet and totally boring today,” Marlee said, smiling.
Another loud peal of thunder reverberated in the air. It was immediately followed by an oppressive silence. “Lousy weather,” Lanie said with a shudder. “Do you have an umbrella I can borrow, Marlee?”
“Sure. I keep one in the hall closet. Help yourself, but you probably won’t need it. There’ll be plenty of clouds, thunder and lots of wind, but don’t hold your breath waiting for the rain.”
Just as she finished the statement, the skies suddenly opened up and torrents of rain came down. Marlee looked at Lanie sheepishly. “So much for my reputation as a weather prophet. I should have known these strange morning clouds would bring a surprise. It could be a real gully washer. But don’t be surprised, though, if you see folks peering out their windows just to watch it rain. It’s always an event here.”
Gabriel was zipping up his coat, standing by the door as Lanie came into the living room. “It looks nasty out there. Why don’t you let me—”
The ringing phone interrupted him. Marlee picked up the receiver and, after a moment, called to Lanie. “It’s Alma. She wants to give you a ride to her shop.”
Before she could answer, Gabriel put his hand on her arm. “I can save her the trouble of having to come here in the downpour.”
She nodded, her skin melting under the touch of his hand. Her knees nearly buckled as she remembered the way he’d caressed her in her dream. “I’ll tell Alma,” she managed to respond.
After assuring Alma she’d bring the bowl along with her today, Lanie hung up.
Gabriel was waiting for her by the door as she returned. “I’ll be going to my office for about an hour this morning,” he said as Lanie buttoned her jacket. “Then I’ll be traveling back and forth along the highway. I want to see if anyone’s seen the peddler or knows anything about him.”
“You’re still on that?”
He smiled slowly. “People tell me I’m like a pit bull when it comes to police work.”
Marlee came from the kitchen to look out the front window. “I can’t say I envy either one of you having to go out in the middle of this downpour.”
“I hated days like this when I was a teacher and had duty outside in the morning or at lunch. It could sure get cold fast in the rain, standing around watching kids and making sure they stayed out of trouble.”
At the mention of Lanie’s past, Marlee nodded curtly and walked back to the kitchen. Lanie shook her head slowly. Her teaching days were over, and she shouldn’t have mentioned it, but Marlee’s reaction seemed odd. Maybe Marlee had been worried that Lanie would take the opportunity to ask about her past.
“You ready? We better get going,” Gabriel said.
After a fast dash to the Jeep, they were under way. The rain intensified considerably as they went down Main Street. The street seemed more like a muddy sea than the cobblestoned road she knew lay beneath.
Gabriel drove slowly. “We normally don’t get this kind of rain except in summer, and I can’t figure out why we’re getting it now.”
“Well, it’s been a dry year. New Mexico can use the rain.”
“Yeah, but it’s a weird twist of fate. I was planning to spend my morning driving around, looking and asking questions. Now I don’t think I’m going to be able to get out of town. There’s bound to be problems with the mud and the roads. Cobblestone is very slippery when wet.”
“Tracking down the peddler can’t be that critical. One day won’t hurt.”
“It could. Someone called me and told me they’d seen a man matching the description of the peddler camping over near the county line. That’s why I was planning to head over that way. This rainstorm couldn’t have picked a more rotten time to start.”
She shuddered, feeling as if an ice cube had suddenly been pressed to the small of her back. “Now you’re going to blame the weather on the peddler?”
“No, but I can tell you there are plenty who would,” Gabriel replied.
Lanie watched the clouds covering the sky like black swatches of cloth. The sun was completely obscured. The rain had suddenly stopped, and at the moment, the air was still and quiet. Restless, she shifted in her seat and allowed the silence to stretch out.
They were almost at Alma’s when, suddenly, a large paint barrel rolled off a highway-department truck parked next to the feed store. It bounced sideways off the curb and headed directly toward the Jeep.
Gabriel swerved sharply. “Hang on!”
The muddy cobblestone made traction impossible. The barrel struck the front bumper and bounced off the hood, blinding Gabriel by splattering yellow paint all over the windshield.
They spun around and slammed sideways into the mailbox outside the post office.
Gabriel muttered a curse. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m a bit shaken, but the seat belt worked. I’m fine.” She glanced up and saw the yellow paint being washed away in streaks as the rain suddenly began again.
“Stay here,” he snapped, his gaze on the highway-department driver coming from the feed store, newspaper on top of his head.
“Sheriff, are you okay?”
“Those paint barrels,” Gabriel yelled over the downpour, “who tied them down?”
“I did, and they were secure.”
“Wrong. You’re lucky there wasn’t anyone else around. Someone could have been killed.”
“Sheriff, I’ve done this dozens of times. I just don’t understand how it could have happened!”
They checked the Jeep for damage, then moved away, arguing as the truck driver brought out his driver’s license. Lanie opened her purse carefully, afraid her bowl had been broken. With relief, she saw that it was undamaged. Placing it back inside, then huddling in her jacket, she opened the Jeep door and raced toward Alma’s.
As she hurried across the street, she wondered what Gabriel would have said had he known she’d been carrying the bowl with her this morning. She was almost sure he would have thought of attributing their bad luck to it.
She had another theory, however, one that held more appeal with each passing minute. Maybe it wasn’t her bowl that was at fault, but rather the conflagration Gabriel and she made every time they were together.
As soon as Lanie ducked inside the door of the Golden Days Antique Shop, Alma rushed over.
“I was just about to come out! I saw the accident. I bet you Jeremy, that shiftless moron, did his usual semicompetent job. He’s been working at the highway department too long, if you ask me. Someone should have fired him long before now.” Alma brought out a chair and handed Lanie a towel. “And of all the days for me to ask you to bring the bowl! Was it broken?”
“It survived intact. I checked it,” Lanie said.
Alma nodded. “Thank goodness the sheriffs reflexes are so good. Otherwise, that could have become a major accident.” She took the towel from Lanie’s hand and offered her some hot tea. “Oh, my, I just thought of something. If anyone knew you had the bowl with you just now, it’s going to add a lot more fuel to that fire!”
“Nobody knew I had it, and I think we should keep it that way.”
“Good idea.”
Lanie sipped her tea, trying to sort through her thoughts about the accident. She shouldn’t have wandered off. Gabriel would probably need a statement from her. But it had been cold in the car, and after all, he knew where to find her.
“I’ve got the camera stand ready,” Alma said, interrupting her thoughts. “I thought I’d take several photos of the bowl so I could have those handy while I researched it.”
Lanie reached into her tote bag and gently brought it out. “I’ll place the bowl on the camera stand. I know you’d be very careful with it, but if there’s anything to this curse, I don’t want you to share the bad luck.”
Alma’s gaze was filled with understanding. “Please don’t worry. I’ll take my photos without eve
n touching it, if that makes you feel better. But don’t let this curse business throw you. It’s usually people’s beliefs that create the most problems.”
Lanie went to the back room and saw the blue background sheet Alma had draped over one wall then across the table, creating a seamless backdrop. Floodlights stood on both sides of the table in front of the backdrop and were diffused to take away harsh shadows. It was a simple setup, but she had no doubt it was an effective one.
Lanie placed the bowl in the center of the table. As Alma focused the camera, the doorbell sounded. “Can you find out who it is?” Alma asked without glancing up.
Lanie looked down at the bowl, reluctant to let it out of her sight, then after a pause, nodded, chiding herself for being so nervous about it. Nothing would happen to it here. Alma certainly wasn’t about to run off with it, abandoning her store.
Lanie started to leave the room when a young man suddenly entered, nearly colliding with her. “Oops! Sorry, ma’am.” He brushed back his oily blond hair with one hand and smiled.
Alma glanced up. “Oh, hi, Ted. Glad you stopped by. This is Lanie Mathews, my new assistant.” Alma shifted her gaze to Lanie. “This is Ted Burns, the young man I told you works for me occasionally.”
Lanie allowed her gaze to take him in, silently assessing him. He was about twenty years old, she figured, and over six feet tall. He had the laid-back style of a kid who didn’t have a care in the world.
As if uncomfortable under her gaze, he turned to Alma. “I was on my way to Santa Fe today and I thought I’d come by and see if there was anything you needed from there.”
“You can drop off some books I was planning to ship to John Sullivan’s bookstore there.” She gestured toward the far wall. “They’re in that box.” She snapped another photograph, but this time the flash didn’t recharge. “Blast! Lanie, can you go next door to Rosa’s and get me some double-A batteries for the flash? It’ll just take you a second. In the meantime, I can get a packing slip ready so that Ted can get John’s signature when he makes the delivery.”
Lanie brushed aside her reluctance to leave the bowl. Common sense told her it would be safe, even though she hated the thought of leaving it.
“If you’re in the least bit worried, take the bowl,” Alma said, as if reading her mind. “But believe me, it’s safer here in my store than in your purse as you walk around.”
The logic behind her words was hard to dispute. Lanie couldn’t think of any way to gracefully take the bowl now, not without jeopardizing her new employer’s goodwill. “Okay. I’ll be back soon.”
Lanie hurried over to Rosa’s grocery store, returning with the batteries only a short time later. Though she didn’t want it to be obvious, her gaze immediately strayed to the bowl. It was exactly where she’d placed it. Alma and Ted were talking near the back door.
“You make sure he signs for it, not his assistant, okay?”
“Sure. I’ll take care of it for you.”
After he left, Alma loaded the batteries into her camera. “Ted is sure a nice kid, don’t you think?”
“He seems very nice. I gather his other job takes a lot of his time, and that’s why he doesn’t work here fulltime.”
“It’s more than that, though I’m not sure he’d ever admit it openly.” Alma paused as she checked the camera settings and readjusted a light. “I know Ted very well, mostly because I know exactly what it’s like to walk in his shoes. He has goals and dreams of his own he wants to make come true, but his father is such a driving force here in this town nobody ever sees Ted as anything except Bob Burns’s son. Being in someone else’s shadow is a real tough load to carry, believe me. I’ve tried to help him, and we’ve had long talks about this, but he’s got his work cut out for him if he really wants to be his own man someday.”
He’s lucky to have you for a friend.” Lanie said gently. “It sounds as though he needs one.” She sighed. “Gabriel should be coming by soon, I expect. He’s going to want my statement on the accident report.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” Alma said. “Things aren’t settled in big-city fashion around here. If Jeremy’s at fault, the paperwork will be handled by the highway department. Eventually a check will be mailed. People don’t get excited about things like that around here. This town can’t support a full-time lawyer.”
Alma continued to work. “By the way, I did some research on some genuine skinwalker bowls last night. If you check the volume I left out by the counter, I think you’ll find that none of the markings on your bowl match the ones there. Even the style is different. I’m just not convinced this piece of yours is genuine.”
Lanie went to the counter in the front room and picked up the book. Opening it to the place Alma had marked, she studied the photographs as she walked back to the other room. The one bowl pictured was said to have been the property of a skinwalker. “You’re right,” Lanie called out. “This one doesn’t look like mine at all. The one pictured here looks like an ordinary bowl.”
“That’s my point,” Alma said. “Yours is too eye-catching. A skinwalker would want to keep his identity a secret. He wouldn’t have things that would easily advertise who and what he was. Witches of any culture thrive on secrecy. My considered opinion is that you’ve probably got yourself an old bowl, but it’s not necessarily valuable or the property of a skinwalker. However, without testing the pigments, dating the clay and so on, I can’t say for certain.”
“So it could be valuable, or not,” Lanie said with a sigh.
“If I had to bet, I’d say it’s a just a pretty little bowl, made eye-catching so it would be easy to sell.”
Lanie bundled the bowl up again and placed it inside her tote bag. “Well, expensive or cheap, it doesn’t matter. It was a gift to me, and I still like it.”
“Though you suspect it’s cursed?”
“I’m not sure what I think anymore. That’s the honest truth.” Lanie stared at her bag for a moment, lost in thought. Maybe the answer would be to pitch it out the window once she was back on the road. But she’d never do that She wasn’t the kind of person who would purposely destroy something so beautiful.
“Shall we get started on today’s work? As usual, everything is backlogged. Ever since Emily’s passing, I never quite seem to catch up. Emily’s dream sometimes becomes my nightmare.” Alma asked, interrupting Lanie’s thoughts. “But wait. I wasn’t thinking. You were just in an accident. If you’re not up to this today, I’ll understand, of course.”
“I’m fine. I can get started as quickly as you’d like.
What’s on the agenda?” Lanie asked, glad to be able to focus on something besides the bowl.
“Since it’s stopped raining, how about going to the library for me? Our town library has a vanity table that’s around one hundred years old. It’s back in the librarian’s quarters. The town council has agreed to sell it in order to raise capital. I’ve agreed to take it on consignment, but I need to have photos to show it off.”
“I’m not sure how good I am with a camera….”
“This one’s really easy to use.” Alma placed a small 35 mm camera in her hands and gave her a few directions. “When you get there, ask at the reference desk and someone will guide you to the back where the vanity table is being kept”
Lanie headed down the street. The clouds were finally breaking, and an anemic-looking sun was starting to peer through. As she went past the site of their accident, she saw that only the barest trace of paint had settled in the joints of the cobblestones. The truck with the paint barrels was gone, and so was Gabriel’s Jeep. Everything was as it had been, yet from inside Alma’s store, she’d heard no cars being moved or people cleaning up. It was as if elves had come out and cleaned while the men handled the negotiations. She smiled at the image. Anywhere else, she would have thought it was fantasy, but here in Four Winds, anything seemed possible.
Lanie was across the street from Charley’s garage when she decided on the spur of the moment to go to see howthe rep
airs on her car were going. She was at the corner, ready to cross the street, when she spotted her car going by. Shocked, she stared at it for a moment, trying to make sure it really was her car. The dented rear bumper left no doubt.
Perhaps Charley had been wrong and there hadn’t been as much work needed as he’d initially thought. Seeing him circle the block, she waited, looking forward to the possibility of a smaller bill.
Charley looked surprised to see her as he pulled inside the garage and saw her waiting. “I know what you’re thinking,” he said, his voice grave, “that I was wrong about the repair time. But I replaced the ignition system and took it out for a test drive, wanting to hear how she sounded under a load. I barely made it back. Something is wrong with the valves—I could hear it clearly.”
“I had hoped that if it was running…”
Charley shook his head. “Ask around. I’m an honest man. If you take this car with you now, you won’t get up the first hill you meet.”
She looked directly into his eyes but found she couldn’t read him. She was certain of one thing, however. One way or another, Charley would prove himself right. She wouldn’t get far in her car if she took it now. Of course, it was a moot point. Even if the car had been okay, she still couldn’t have paid for the repairs yet. Until Alma paid her, all she had left in her wallet was a little less than fifty bucks.
“Take my advice, miss. Enjoy your stay in Four Winds. You’ve got a good job working for Miss Alma, and you’re helping Marlee. Our town will grow on you, and maybe by the time I’m finished, you won’t even want to leave.”
For a moment, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Charley was part of someone’s plan to keep her here in Four Winds. Brushing the thought aside as crazy paranoia, she left the garage and continued her walk to the library.
Lanie crossed at the end of the street and decided to take a shortcut across the southwest garden bordering the library. Halfway across, she noticed a large well, almost completely hidden by a pile of tumbleweeds. She peered around them to look at the circle of stones set in mortar. It looked almost identical to one that had plagued her nightmares as a child.
