Honey House

by LAURA HARNER

  “I was surprised when Joanne told me the House had selected you. An untrained power unleashed in the House, let loose in this part of the world is a frightening thought for an old woman. Joanne would know, though. Honestly, I expected you would ignore the request when Malcolm came to get you from the ship. I certainly never imagined you would move in that very day and not return to your old life. Why is that? What made you so willing to give everything up to come here? Do you feel compelled, child?”

  Did I feel compelled? I suppose in a way I did. This was a life that was far different from any I had known. This was a life with “normal” written all over it. I had a home, a job, and I was even starting to make friends.

  “I don’t know if I can explain it well, Amelia,” I said, wondering why I was explaining at all. “I’ve lived mostly as a nomad, with no real roots, no real connection to anything. I came with lawyer-boy, er, Malcolm on a lark. I figured Joanne was trying to lure me here to be her pet faux fortuneteller, to help drum up more business for her bed and breakfast. I never imagined for a minute that she was really dead. When I got here, something about the place got to me. I still didn’t believe, but I saw Joanne’s, uhm, ghost?” My voice rose as if in question.

  I was really squirming now. When I had arrived, nothing could have persuaded me to share this experience, but I suppose Amelia hit the nail on the head. I did feel compelled. Compelled to share with her, compelled to stay. I took a deep breath and continued.

  “I saw Joanne’s ghost, except I still wondered how she was pulling it off, what the scam was. I had no reason to go back to the ship; I had plenty of savings to last a while and a place to stay, so I thought, why not stay and see what happens next?

  “Somehow, I just keep getting sucked deeper. I still don’t really believe I own the House. Partly because I’ve never owned anything and partly because it seems wrong to think of this place as capable of being owned. It’s fascinating. People just show up, we don’t advertise, they’re just suddenly here. I don’t know what I’m trying to say,” I added, and I could hear the frustration in my own voice.

  Amelia smiled then, a smile full of knowledge and almost pride. It was as though I had mastered some particularly difficult skill, and Amelia was proud of me. I hated secrets. Her smile made me feel left out of whatever knowledge she had that I lacked. She wanted me to ask, to seek her superior knowledge. I wouldn’t. She wouldn’t be able to keep her secret, people seldom could.

  “The House did pick you. It picks all of us, but has very few other real powers. The real power, my dear, is within you. Most of us that the House picks are aware of the power within, but we need training and a safe harbor. You truly seem unaware of that which roils beneath your surface. I imagine the House is energized by you.”

  “What are you saying, Amelia? Are you telling me you think the House is yours, too?” I asked edgily. Was she trying to move in here permanently?

  “Oh, dear child, put your back down. I explain myself poorly. I was the owner before Joanne. I have no need of the House now. No, the House has chosen you, and now it’s up to you to discover the power that makes you special. I am a witch. Oh, there. Now I’ve shocked you.”

  “No, I’m all right,” I said. “Please, tell me more. How did you come to own the House? And you’re not dead, so how did Joanne get it?”

  “Well, it has been a long time since I owned it. The owner before me was named Syvia. She found me one day as I was passing through Sedona on my way to Flagstaff to the teacher’s college there. There weren’t as many jobs available to independent young women back then as there are today. Regardless, I stayed at the House for one night. The House took a shine to me, and before I knew it, Syvia offered me a job running the place and she left for what she told me was a safari. I never did find out where she really went. Two days after she was gone, an attorney presented me with the deed and the place was suddenly mine.”

  I gasped. That was very similar to my own experience and said so.

  “Yes, it’s the way of the House. I knew it was time for me to go when Joanne and I quite literally ran into each other. I had gone to Phoenix on an errand and we bumped into each other passing through the door to an herbalist’s shop. She was interested in witchcraft and was just starting her Book of Shadows. She’d gone to the herbalist to learn about alchemy. I invited her to the House and when it was time, I transferred it to her.”

  “So the House just decides when it’s time for the owner to move on? Then what happened to Joanne? Is she really dead? Because I saw her ghost. Didn’t I?”

  “Oh, yes. She’s quite dead. But that had nothing to do with the House, dear. Just because Joanne has passed to the other side doesn’t mean she can’t still visit from time-to-time. I’m sure she was just helping the House, doing a little playacting to give you a push in the right direction.”

  She paused to let me absorb all that she’d told me so far. I wasn’t sure what to ask next. Was I supposed to be a witch? Is that what she was trying to tell me? I wanted to know, so I asked her.

  Amelia smiled and leaned forward to pat my hand. “Oh, it is far from me to predict where your talents will emerge.” With a final squeeze, she leaned back before continuing. “Joanne wanted to be a witch, and so she was. I had ideas to be a teacher. Once I moved here, I kept meeting powerful witches, and each of them saw something in me and taught me. Syvia was a powerful psychic. Each of us has a special talent. Be patient, dear. Yours will emerge. You already demonstrate some awareness of the other dimension and psychic abilities. Keep yourself open to possibilities beyond what you know now. Turn no one away from the House.

  Brushing her hands over her lap, Amelia looked toward the window for a moment. KC had the absurd notion the woman was listening to something only she could hear. Turning back, she smiled again, but it looked a little forced. “That’s all for now, dear. I’m tired. I have two things for you before I leave. First, find Joanne’s Book of Shadows. I don’t know where she kept it, but it’s critical we not let it leave the House. It could be dangerous in the wrong hands.”

  I knew she wanted to go, but I still had questions. I sat up a little straighter…not exactly easy in the low-slung chair. “Can you explain more about the Book of Shadows?” I asked.

  “It’s the collection of all of Joanne’s work. It’s where she stored all the information about her magickal traditions; it’s an item of power. She should also have her Grimoire, her spell book, stored nearby. Combined, the two books contain a tremendous amount of information and should not be seen by anyone other than you.”

  I think I must have blinked funny, because she laughed a little. “KC, you should keep your own Book of Shadows, while you’re still learning about your powers. Even if you don’t become a witch, it’s an excellent idea for you to develop your own traditions and rituals.”

  Pushing up from the chair, I crossed the room and looked back at Amelia. “You said two things. What’s the other thing I need to know? Or is it the other thing I need to do?” I asked.

  “Very astute. You need to become closer to the House. Ask it why you are here; test what I have told you so far. You will sense I am telling you the truth. The House will not hurt you. It is here to bring a great power to the Earth, and that power lies within you. Go ahead,” she said. “Try it now, reach out. Think about the House and yourself. See if you can sense that I’m telling you the truth.”

  Turning away from her, I looked out the window, at the shadows stretching across the yard. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know if this was the truth. It seemed more palatable when I thought this was an elaborate scam by Joanne. Now Amelia was telling me this was all part of some cosmic plot to bring me here so I could learn of some yet to be defined power within me. Was this way too woowoo, even for me?

  Tentatively, I stretched out my senses to see if I could tell anything about the House. I was prepared to be freaked out, to demand my freedom and run screaming from the House. I wasn’t prepared for the feelings that washed throug
h me. Calm and light, and sense of destiny. I was home.

  When I turned to tell Amelia, she was gone and Quinn stood in her place.

  “Miss Carmichael,” he said. “I need to see Jason’s room.”

  Abruptly drawn back into the reality of the day, I nodded. I led Quinn next door to Jason’s suite, and used the master key from my ring to unlock the door. Quinn placed his hand on my arm, stilling the movement. He took over and unlatched the door himself. I noticed he had his right hand on the butt of his gun, the strap unsnapped.

  When he drew his gun, I reversed direction until my back hit the cool plaster of the hallway wall. It hadn’t occurred to me that someone might be waiting inside. I was really slow on the uptake on this one.

  Quinn made a gesture with his hand that I took to mean, “Wait here,” and stepped to the doorway. He sighted his gun around the room, then entered cautiously, leaving the door partially opened behind him. He verified the closet, bathroom, and under the bed were all free from intruders, then invited me inside. The room was blank, no imprint of Jason had been made upon the space.

  ****

  KC,

  When I started investigating this article, I was convinced everything was a hoax. Not anymore. Some of it is, but not all. I’m about to change the world here, and it scares the shit out of me.

  I’ll be leaving sometime tomorrow, but first, as the saying goes, I have to see a man about a dog. I’m more sorry than I can possibly say for the things in the article about you and your family. I think I can fix the damage to you, if you’ll let me, but we need to talk. I know I don’t deserve it, but please give me a second chance. I’ll share what I’ve learned. I expected to have more control over things. Now I just don’t know.

  JB

  I fingered the paper, tracing the cramped cursive, imagining Jason hurriedly scratching the note and leaving it in my room. It had been propped on the mantle with my initials scrawled on the front, waiting for me to take notice. Jason must have come in while I was putting out the coffee or after I left to run with Gregory this morning. That meant it was one of the last things he’d done before he was killed. Before he was murdered, I corrected. Quinn had been very clear on that point, that someone had murdered Jason. From the way he was asking questions, it seemed he thought I was a likely candidate.

  It would certainly be a popular solution if Quinn could tie me to the murder. Stranger with a criminal record comes to town; intrepid reporter who outs said criminal is murdered. A very neat formula, if you ask me. Of course, I knew I hadn’t killed Jason, which meant there was a murderer running around Juniper Springs. I would need to find the real murderer before Quinn put me in the starring role.

  Chapter Six

  “Going to see a man about a dog. What the hell could that mean?” I asked for the third time. Owen just looked at me, his soft gray eyes amused.

  “What?” I asked, frustration coloring my voice.

  “KC, I told you already. It’s just a saying meaning you need to talk with someone. I’m sure Jason didn’t mean he literally needed to talk about a dog. He might not have even meant he was going to talk to a man. It’s just a saying,” he repeated.

  Gregory pushed open the French doors with his hip and stepped outside carrying an enormous platter of appetizers to the low-slung patio table. It was my first time at their home and just being here made me feel good. It suited them perfectly. The house was actually a private extension of their store, with the kitchen, dining, and living rooms downstairs, and two bedrooms and an office, plus a lot of storage upstairs. The backyard was an abundance of flowers and herbs, and we sat on the patio watching the sun turn a fiery red, as though angry at being forced to move along and cede its glory to the night.

  Snatching a crab stuffed mushroom from the tray, I forced my eyes not to roll back in their sockets from sheer joy at the treat. Yum. “Oh God, Gregory, these are delicious. Do you use that oven-thingy to make them?” I asked, only half joking. Cooking was one of many normal skills my foster parents hadn’t bothered with teaching me.

  Laughing, Gregory said, “Yes, I used an oven-thingy. So can you. All you have to do is heat and serve.”

  “Gregory makes them himself and we sell a big batch of them each week. One batch only, so if you want some, you’d better place an order. Gregory makes several of our specialty items. We don’t advertise them, but you can get a list. It’s beyond a doubt the best food in the valley. Several of the local restaurants have tried to lure him away, but he likes the freedom of deciding what to make and when,” Owen said.

  “Well, look at you all puffed up and proud,” I said to Owen, but he only had eyes for Gregory. The men exchanged tender smiles, before turning back to me.

  “What do you eat, KC? I mean other than the breakfast stuff from here. Do you cook?” Gregory asked.

  “I cook, sometimes,” I said, sounding defensive, even to myself.

  “What’s the last thing you cooked?” Gregory challenged.

  “Uhm…ramen?” I offered.

  “Seriously, KC,” Gregory gave a derisive snort, “I don’t think I’ve seen you in the store, lately. What did you have for dinner last night?”

  “Leftovers,” I said brightly, pleased to have an answer that would let me slip out of this embarrassing conversation.

  Gregory narrowed his eyes. “Leftover what?”

  Shit. With I sigh, I admitted, “A yogurt and bagel left over from breakfast.”

  Once Gregory stopped laughing, he retrieved an order form from the kitchen. “This is what I’m making next week. Appetizers, chicken, and wild rice soup, and I think for you I’ll add a big field greens salad. I cook on Mondays, so the food will be with your Tuesday morning delivery. I’ll send some real leftovers from dinner tonight over in the morning, so you don’t starve between now and Tuesday. Owen, honey, will you make sure that gets put into KC’s order in the morning?”

  Owen’s eyes sparkled at his lover’s mothering. “Congratulations, KC, on becoming Gregory’s latest stray. I’m afraid there’s no peace for you, now. Before you know it, he’ll know everything there is to know about Katherine Carmichael. Hell, he’s gonna want to approve your dates from now on.”

  It was my turn to snort. “Even if I was interested in dating, the prospects are pretty slim pickings. The only ones that have shown any interest in me are you two…and well, you’re both already taken.” I smiled, and then quickly changed the subject.

  “So what do you think Jason meant?” I asked, worrying at the question once more.

  “What did Quinn say?” Owen asked.

  I said nothing, but Gregory gasped. “You bad thing! You didn’t tell the big, old sheriff, did you? He is one seriously fine piece of man. Too bad Quinn doesn’t swing this way. He would certainly warm up a cold winter night. Do you think he’s as big as that faded patch on his jeans makes him out to be?”

  “What patch?” I asked innocently. Of course, I knew exactly what faded patch he was talking about. Quinn hung seriously left. “The sheriff and I have a mutual understanding. He doesn’t like me and I don’t like him. Besides, I think Susan might object.”

  Gregory and Owen both laughed good-naturedly.

  “There’s no love lost between the two of them. Susan has been trying to get her hands on him ever since he arrived. He’s the original artful dodger,” Gregory said. “In fact, I don’t actually know where he gets his itch scratched. He plays up to Susan when there’s a social need, but really, he treats all the women with the same aloofness. But he doesn’t set off my gaydar either. He’s certainly not asexual. No, it’s definitely women, and personally I think the little bristle thing between the two of you is just stoking the fire. Eventually, the two of you will ignite.”

  “Not going to happen, Romeo,” I said to Gregory. “He’s not my type.”

  “What type is that?” Owen asked.

  “Not a cop.” When the laughter settled I went right back to where my thoughts had been all day. “Okay, you two, truth betwe
en us. Did Jason come to visit you for his article series?”

  With a sigh, Owen said, “You aren’t going to let this go, are you?”

  “Nope. And no prevaricating. Did Jason interview you or try to interview you?”

  They exchanged a long look before Gregory finally answered. “Yes. He interviewed Owen the first visit. Since we don’t do anything with the paranormal trade, neither of us was particularly worried about what he might ask. He asked some background questions, trying to get some local color. It wasn’t any big deal.”

  There was just a flicker of his eyes. Down and to the right, just for an instant before returning unflinching to meet my gaze. It was a tell. I’d play poker with Gregory any day of the week. He was lying.

  “Was that the only time you spoke with him?”

  “Yes, it was the only time he was here.” Again, Gregory answered for the both of them.

  “Did he ever call either of you?”

  Owen sighed, and I knew he’d just decided to tell me something he hadn’t wanted to.

  “He called, KC. He called a couple of times. He wanted to know about food deliveries to the Were Ranch.”

  “The Way They Were?” I confirmed. When they both nodded, I sat back and nibbled on another mushroom, and looked at them expectantly.

  “Look, KC. All he wanted to know was how much food they ordered and how it got to the ranch. It’s a weekly order; they pick it up. No big deal. Now, let’s go eat dinner.” Gregory led the way inside.

  As we sat down to a scrumptious meal of grilled salmon and artichokes, my one-track mind hit overdrive. “Who else did Jason interview?”

  “Your favorite gal-pal, Susan,” Gregory answered.

  I wrinkled my nose. I wouldn’t look forward to talking with her. “Anyone else? Did anyone refuse to talk with him?” I asked.

  “Well, I don’t know if he actually spoke to anyone at the ranch,” Owen said slowly. “Just that he wanted to. I think he was going to that new-age palmistry and crystal shop on Main. He said something at the dinner party about Vortex Infusions. And of course, he must have visited the new business by Ted Sparks.”