Witch of a Bride (Witch Reborn, #3)

by Belinda White

  Oops. “Well, I should warn you that I went there before coming here.”

  His eyes snapped back to me. “You did?” Was that a little bit of worry I saw in them?

  “I felt bad because you missed out on our big Sunday breakfast, so I brought you a BLT. Double bacon too.”

  He relaxed a bit. “Oh, well, then. I guess I can make an exception for the bringing of food. Especially if that food happens to be bacon.”

  Yeah, kind of figured he’d feel that way.

  But what mattered the most to me was that he was asking me to stay away from the station, not doubling down on me staying off the case. I’d take that as a green light to continue what I’d started.

  I’d just be passing anything I learned to him in private. I could deal with that.

  Chapter 10

  I had two more stops on my list of people to visit with, but neither of them panned out all that well. Nothing more learned. Still, I thought the day’s investigative work had worked out rather well.

  We’d learned that Reverend Castle had a history of taking advantage of young and vulnerable girls and that the man also had a gambling problem. Not bad for a day’s work, I thought.

  So, for the rest of the day I rested on my laurels. When the last friendly little visit was done, I went home to the farmhouse. My family could use a little Auntie Opal time, and truthfully, Auntie Opal could use a little family time too.

  It went both ways, that.

  We spent the evening playing board games and watching an old movie that the kids had picked out. It wasn’t a movie I was familiar with, but the kids had found it at the library and it looked fun. Plus, it was rated for all ages, so it should be safe, right? It ended up being a parody western that very much reminded me of the old Road Runner cartoons. In fact, I think the scriptwriters took entire pages from Wile E. Coyote.

  The movie did its work, and by the time we all headed off to bed, I was in a much more relaxed state. I’d needed the downtime. Tomorrow, though, would be a different matter.

  Now that I had Orville’s blessings on being part of the investigation (kind of), it was time to get busy.

  UNFORTUNATELY, THE business at the shop hadn’t slowed down from the week before. Normally, Kimberly handled the front of the shop and the customers, and I handled the back end of the shop. Bookkeeping, making spell bags and potions for our Goddess-loving customers, and basically doing what I wanted when I wanted.

  With this many customers going through the shop, that wasn’t possible. It took both of us helping customers and getting them back out the door with their purchases. The shop was doing a suddenly booming business, and here I was wishing it had waited a month or two.

  Some business owner I am.

  We had even wrangled the kids into helping out after school. As bigger items sold, that opened up floor space, and half the upstairs was filled with items just waiting for their chance at the limelight. We put the young ones to the task of filling up those empty spaces. At this rate, I’d have to step up my estate auction schedule. Sooner or later, I was going to run out of stock.

  At least if that happened, we’d all catch a little break.

  I’d kind of hoped to take a little time mid-morning to go and see Kenny Driscoll, our town bookie. As I’d told Orville before, the motives for murder were usually one of three: love, loathing, or loot. Maybe this time it was a simple case of loot. A debt collection gone wrong, maybe?

  One could only hope it would turn out to be something so simple.

  Unfortunately, that mid-morning break didn’t happen. Not with the press of shoppers we had to deal with.

  We closed the shop for our normal lunch hour. I grabbed a quick sandwich at the market and then made my way to Driscoll’s little lair. You really couldn’t call it anything else. His office, if you could even call it that, was in the basement of the local tavern. Dark, dusty, and with a damp smell that made me not want to linger there any longer than I absolutely had to.

  Not that my leaving would be a problem for the owner. In fact, he seemed quite anxious for me to do so. Right from the time I walked in too.

  Kenny took one look at me and backed a couple more feet away. He probably would have gone farther, but those two feet put his back right up against the wall. The man raised his hands out in front of him, in a defensive measure.

  It kind of made me want to look behind me. I mean, what the heck was his problem?

  “Now, Ms. Ravenswind, don’t get your feathers all ruffled. A man has to make money when and where he can, you know. I never meant no harm or offense.”

  What the devil was he talking about? Some people in town tended to confuse witches with clairvoyants, and it would appear Kenny Driscoll was one of them. At least he was if he thought I had one little glimmer of an idea of what he was going on about.

  I didn’t. But then again, I didn’t want to admit that to the man, now did I? In situations like this—and yes, they happen more frequently than you would think—I generally go quiet until the person in front of me gives me a little more to go on. I’ve gotten pretty good over the years at piecing things together.

  It didn’t take long. A couple of steps on my part and Kenny started talking.

  “Look, it’s just a silly bet. Nothing to get worked up about, is it? Just some people having a little fun, that’s all.”

  Beads of sweat popped out on Kenny’s brow. A bet, huh? That kind of gave me the information I needed right there. At least, I thought it did.

  As for Kenny’s sweat, well, he knew the Ravenswinds were the real deal. His mother never would have given birth to the little weasel if we weren’t. It was one of our potions that had helped her with that. Not so sure at the moment that we’d actually done the woman any favors. But bottom line, he knew what we were. And what we could do.

  “Tell me again why I shouldn’t be upset about this bet of yours?” There, that seemed safe. I didn’t want to go too far out on that limb without a little more. Even if I did have a pretty darn good guess.

  “Well, this is a small town, you know? People talk, and some people aren’t really into sports or horses, but that don’t mean they don’t want to have a little gambling action, you know?” He blinked as a drop of sweat dripped down into his eye. “It’s just a little fun. I mean, I have bets going on all kinds of things. Not just your wedding. In fact, I have three wedding bets going right now alone.”

  I took a deep breath. Yup. Just as I’d thought. People were betting that our wedding wouldn’t happen. Which brought up another point. Could someone have placed a large enough bet to make it worthwhile to step in and help it not happen? A quick glance around me showed that probably wasn’t the case. It didn’t look like Kenny was up to that large of a betting operation.

  “What are the going odds?”

  He blinked at me. Obviously not the response he’d been expecting. But the man was right. A bookie couldn’t afford to lose money in a situation like this. If he didn’t run the bet, someone else would. Still didn’t mean there wouldn’t be repercussions from it, though. I kind of think he got that too. Hence the sweating bullets.

  “W-well, they went up when they found the reverend dead. Right now, th-they’re at three to one.”

  “For or against?”

  He swallowed. “A-against.” Then he stammered out, “But just so you know, my money’s on you and the sheriff getting hitched.”

  Well, it would be, wouldn’t it? That’s where he’d be making the money.

  “Put me down for twenty dollars. That wedding is going to happen.”

  His mouth opened and shut a few times, but his hands finally came down and he pulled over a ledger book. After scribbling a bit in it, I handed over a twenty-dollar bill, and he handed me a written receipt.

  I kind of thought it would make a nice memento for our wedding book. Something Orville might get a kick out of. Maybe I’d give it to him as a wedding present. Sounded about right. And if the odds didn’t even out before then, it should tripl
e in value too.

  Now that our business was concluded, Kenny looked rather relieved. In fact, he kind of looked a little put out when I didn’t turn and leave. But then I hadn’t even gotten to the real reason behind my visit, had I?

  “Seeing as how you brought up the reverend’s death, I’ve got a couple of questions for you.”

  He gulped. “You do?”

  “I do. I heard that Reverend Castle owed you quite a bit of money. That he had a bit of a gambling problem.”

  Kenny relaxed even further. Apparently, he felt he was on more solid ground now. He gave a small chuckle. “Just a bit, yeah. That man would bet on anything.” He gave me a sideways look. “Want to know which side he bet for the wedding?”

  I raised an eyebrow at him. “What I’d be more interested in knowing is why you let the man keep making bets with you when he owed you so much money. I’d also be interested in knowing just how deep in debt he was to you. And how that debt made you feel.”

  He was back to blinking at me. “You don’t think I had anything to do with his murder, do you? You realize me killing him would be a stupid thing for me to do, right? You don’t get money from a dead guy, just so you know.”

  “I’d still like my questions answered all the same.”

  A few more blinks. “Okay, he was in debt with me for a couple of grand. Quite a bit for my tiny little operation, and yes, I was getting a little worried that I might never see any money out of him. We had an agreement, though, that all current winnings would go toward past debts first.” He winced. “Which might have helped a little if the man hadn’t been on so long of a losing streak.”

  “Is that why you let him keep betting? For the possibility of getting your money back? Sounds kind of at counter-purposes to me.”

  Kenny took a deep breath. “You got that right. But I felt sorry for the guy. First, he loses his wife, then...” he stopped.

  Yeah, like I was going to let him stop on that note. “Then what?”

  He glanced around, but there wasn’t anyone else in the shop. And as it was a one-room deal, there shouldn’t have been anyone around to overhear us. Still, he lowered his voice. “According to the rev, this girl showed up on his doorstep a while ago, claiming to be his daughter. It shook him up pretty bad. Who knows how many kids a man has out there in the world, you know?”

  “How long ago did she show up? And just how old was she?” Her age made all the difference.

  He shrugged. “Not sure of the date. The rev told me about it a few months back. I think he just needed to tell someone he could trust.”

  “And who can you trust if you can’t trust your bookie, correct?”

  He smiled at me. “Something like that, yeah.” Then he paused. “As for the girl’s age? All I can say is that I’m pretty sure she would have been conceived during the reverend’s marriage, you know? Not the kind of thing he’d want to get out, now is it?”

  “I could definitely see that being the case.” I hesitated. “I don’t suppose he gave you a name?”

  “Nope. Didn’t ask him, either. Some things it’s just better not to know.” He paused and looked at me. “Are you really okay with the whole wedding bet thing? I have to admit, I’ve been finding it kind of hard to sleep at night with it going on.”

  I gave him the sweetest smile I was capable of. “You should be,” I said. Then I turned around and walked out.

  What could I say? He deserved a little worry in his life.

  Chapter 11

  By the time I made it back to the shop, the wind had picked up. From the dark clouds rolling in, it looked like we were in for quite a storm. Time to batten down the hatches.

  I walked in to find Kimberly anxiously looking out the back-shop window. She looked over to me with worry in her eyes. “This looks like tornado weather to me.”

  Anyone who had spent any time living in a little metal box had a healthy fear of tornados. Smart people had that fear, even without that living experience. They weren’t things to mess around with.

  “Have there been any sightings?”

  She shook her head. “No.” She shivered just a bit. “Just the hair standing on end at the back of my neck. I think this one is going to be bad.”

  I glanced up at the clouds. She just might be right about that. “You think we should close up the shop and head home?” We had a basement there. That wasn’t the case at the shop.

  Kimberly hesitated but finally shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. We’re closer to the kids’ school here. I think that’s more important.”

  She would. Mothers thought things like that. I know I always did.

  “Well, if you start feeling different, you let me know and we’ll head out.”

  As it was, closing up shop turned out to be a necessity. That’s because as I was going to turn the sign on the door to open, the lights flickered twice and then went out.

  And with all those black clouds overhead, getting sunlight through the windows really wasn’t a possibility. It got dark quick. Kimberly came through from the back room with a flashlight. “How’s about we put a couple of these antique kerosene lanterns to good use?”

  I nodded. Sounded good to me, and I always kept a bit of kerosene on hand for just that purpose. Within minutes, we had the place lit up again. Not quite as bright, but at least we could see well enough.

  “Open up or stay closed?” Kimberly looked at me.

  It was a fair question. I was old-fashioned in the running of my store. Nothing here really that we couldn’t do just as well with or without electricity. But why look a gift horse in the mouth? Having an afternoon to catch up on backroom stuff might not be such a bad thing.

  Besides, with the electricity out, we would likely be the only store in town to be open, which meant we just might be even busier than ever. Not something I felt like handling right at the moment. Some fools didn’t know well enough to stay inside and out of the rain. Not if meant getting a bargain.

  “I’d say we stay closed. We can still hang out here until school lets out. Then we can just collect the kids and go home. Unless, of course, the lights come back on.”

  Not that getting the power back that quickly was a likely scenario. Last time the power had gone out in Wind’s Crossing, it had taken a full day to get it back. I wasn’t expecting this time to be much different.

  Kimberly hugged herself. “Sounds good to me.” Then she looked around her. “What can I do to earn my pay?”

  I laughed. The girl was funny sometimes. “You’ve earned a heck of a lot more than what I’ve been paying you the last few days. Take it easy and put your feet up for a change. Or you could go upstairs and stretch out on that mattress up there. Take a good nap.”

  She shivered. “I think I’ll stick to downstairs if that’s okay with you.”

  Oh, yeah. I hadn’t thought about that. “No problem.” I nodded to one of the lanterns even as I grabbed the other one. “Let’s ride this out in the backroom. Less glass back there.”

  THE STORM BLEW OVER pretty quickly. At least the rain part of it did. By the sound of it hitting the windows of the shop, there might have been a few hail balls mixed in there too. It kind of worried me about my car parked out there in the open in the back lot. She might be an old beauty, but she was still a beauty. But the shop didn’t have a garage, so the best we could do was ride it out and hope for the best.

  The wind, however, didn’t die down. If anything, it picked up. Kimberly wasn’t the only one who was relieved when it was finally time to pick up the kids and head for the hills, so to speak. That basement was a comfort in times like this.

  Not that my basement was nice and furnished or anything. It wasn’t. Actually, most people would probably just call it a cellar. Dirt floor and cement walls... it wasn’t anything pretty. But pretty wasn’t a necessity. Safety was.

  And that cramped little space was optimized to the hilt for safety. Right down to a crank-powered emergency radio, kerosene lantern, flashlight, blankets, and a whole
army backpack of bottled water and food supplies.

  A person could live down there for a week if need be. The thought of being trapped in a cellar under a ton of rubble and starving to death wasn’t one I enjoyed. Hence the preparation.

  Orville wasn’t the only boy scout around here. Of course, I wasn’t a boy, and I’d never been a scout, but still. A witch was kind of close if you were willing to stretch your mind a bit.

  The storm didn’t bother the kids one bit. If anything, they were excited by the possibility of spending time in the basement cellar. But I knew that excitement wouldn’t last long if we had to retreat to it. Nothing much to do down there. I should probably think about adding some games to that preparation.

  Maybe I wasn’t as prepared as I thought I was.

  I kept my ear out for the town’s tornado siren, and Kimberly kept her ear to the local news, but no warnings or watches ever came. Other news did, though. According to the local station, our power was out because of multiple trees down, and it would take a while for electricity to be restored.

  Out this far from town, even if it was just a few miles, it would be even longer. They always took care of the bigger areas with more people affected first. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t really fault them for that.

  But all those news stories of trees down started my mind wandering to that sacred hilltop behind the house. What if?

  Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to know.

  Kimberly gave me an odd look when she saw me putting on my rain poncho. The rain could always start up again, and besides, the poncho served as a good windbreaker too.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  I grunted at her. “Trees down. I have to check the clearing at the top of the hill. I have to know.”

  She gave a pointed glance out the window, where tree limbs in the yard were still dancing in the wind. “What’s done is done, Opal, and it isn’t safe.”