by Tegan Maher
She popped the top and took a long pull, then sighed and smiled. "That is so good."
A guilty shadow crossed her face, but she took another sip.
"Is there something you wanted to talk to me about?" I prompted, wishing I had seating to offer.
She paused, looking conflicted. "I shouldn't be here," she said again.
"But you are," I said gently. "And it obviously took courage, so what did you want to tell me?"
"Gilbert and Missy didn't get along," she said. "At all. My sister and I were raised by very strict, God-fearin' folk, but against their wishes, Dinah left. She moved to Atlanta and met a nice man, and got married. She got out."
"And you stayed," I said, starting to get an idea of where this was going.
She dipped her head. "I stayed. I met Gil at a church social, and my parents approved. We were married, and we've gotten on all right. But he's a hard man."
She wiggled the soda top back and forth, then took another drink. Unless I missed my guess, she and her sister hadn't been that much different.
"Anyway, Dinah and her husband died in a plane crash a year ago. They were well off, and Missy was spoilt, at least compared to my kids. She'd lived a city life, and Dinah let her run wild some." There wasn't a trace of bitterness in her voice. If anything, she sounded wistful.
"Don't get me wrong—Missy was a good girl. She made good grades and did as she was told, but here, she had a hard time livin' on such a short leash. I tried to make Gil understand what she'd been through—losin' her folks and her friends and her home—but he says it's his house and his rules."
She glanced at her watch. "I'm blatherin' on about things that don't make no nevermind, and I've only got a minute."
She took a steadying breath then looked me straight in the eye. "The night Missy died, she and Gil got in a knock-down-drag-out because she was gone all day instead of home where she was 'sposed to be. We went to bed and heard the truck start, and he tore outta the house and chased after her in my car."
She was staring off into the distance, reliving the scene. "He came home two hours later, said he took care of it. Skeeter towed our truck home the next day."
Bad thoughts were runnin' through my brain right then. "What did he say happened to her?"
She bit into her lip, but tears that had been pooling in her eyes slipped down her cheeks anyway. "He said she was gone and he was glad to be shed of her. He wouldn't say anything else." The misery in her eyes about killed me, and she looked down. "If I'da stopped him that night, would she still be alive?"
I laid a hand on her arm and waited for her to look at me. "Could you have stopped him that night?"
"No, I don't reckon I could have. But I feel like I shoulda done somethin'. She was all I had left of Dinah, and now she's gone, too. Both the girls—Missy and my Lucy—were the spittin' image of her."
She sobbed, and I wasn't quite sure what to do. I wasn't a touchy-feely person, but I felt like this woman needed somebody, if only for a minute. I pulled her into a hug. After a few seconds, she pulled back and wiped her eyes.
"I need to go. It wouldn't do for him to know I was here."
"I'm glad you stopped," I said, not knowing what else to tell her. I didn't even know what she expected of me. "Charity, do you think he coulda killed her?"
Taking a steadying breath, she said softly, "I don't want to."
But she did. Otherwise, she wouldn't have been there.
Slugging back the rest of the Coke, she handed me the can and gave me a wobbly smile before squaring her shoulders. "Thanks for the Coke."
"You know," I said as she reached for the knob, "you have options."
"Not anymore I don't," she said. "Maybe I used to."
"There are always options, Charity. If you need anything, come see me."
"Thanks,” she said, then paused. “Will you make sure her necklace gets back to me? It was my sister’s wedding band.”
Just as I’d figured. “Sure. I’ll see to it myself.”
She was almost out the door when I thought to ask. "Does the word misty mean anything to you?"
Crinkling her forehead, she thought for a second, then shook her head. "No, why?"
"No reason. It's just a word that's surfaced in relation."
"I'll think on it, and if anything occurs to me, I'll call." Charity stepped into the sunshine, and I hoped for her sake her husband hadn't done it.
I was afraid that was hope wasted, though.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
I THOUGHT ABOUT WHAT she'd said, rolling the implications over in my head. The thing about people is that you never knew what they were capable of. My degree was in criminal justice, not that I put it to use, but the knowledge was still there.
Human behavior is glitchy at best. Bad people do random good things, and vice versa, though it's rarely really random. There's usually some pattern of behavior that could have anticipated it. All Charity had said was that her husband was hard, but the fact that she'd come to see me at all told me he'd established patterns that were strong enough to make her believe he coulda killed her niece.
If I had to venture a guess at the reason, my first shot in the dark would have been power. I watched the courthouse, and when a large, country-looking man in his Sunday best came walking out the front door, I called Hunter.
"We need to talk," I said when he picked up. "You're never gonna guess who came to see me while you were talking to Mr. Lane."
"Who?" he asked.
"Mrs. Lane. And boy did she have a lot to say."
He was silent for a minute. "He said she couldn't come."
"Yeah, couldn't come in because he didn't want her to talk, unless I miss my guess."
I was still looking out the window when I saw him step out of the courthouse, locking the door behind him. "I see you. I'll talk to you in a minute," I said and hung up.
Erol was behind me, just bursting at the seams to discuss what he'd overheard. "Do you think he did it?"
"Maybe," I said. "Guys like that though, you never know. I haven't met him, so it's hard for me to nail down an opinion. I mean, I only just met her. She may be a psychopath for all we know."
He was shaking his head so hard he'da rattled his brains if there were any solid ones in there. "Nope. Didn't get the crazy vibe off her at all."
"Yeah, that's what Dahmer's friends and neighbors said, too. Let's wait to hear what Hunter has to say."
I'd locked the door after Charity left because we still didn't know who'd threatened me, so I flipped it open and let him in.
I told him everything Charity had told me.
"That's a different version of events than what I got," he said. "Or at least a more detailed one. Gil Lane said they figured she'd run away because she snuck out one night and never came back."
"That's it?" I asked.
He nodded, and I pulled out my phone, scrolling through until I found Skeeter's number. I let it ring three times before he picked up.
"Hey, Noelle! Long time. What's up?"
"Hey Skeet," I said. "Not much. I got a quick question for you. Did you go tow Gilbert Lane's truck home the night we found the body? You're on speaker, and Hunter and Erol are here."
He whistled out a breath. "I've been slammed this week. People gettin' their ACs flushed for summer. I know I went and hauled it home, but I'm not sure what night it was. Why?"
"Turns out, the girl Boone pulled out of the lake was the Lanes' niece. Where'd you pick it up at?"
"Wow," he said. "At the county dock. You reckon he killed her?"
Hunter's chest rose as he pulled in a deep breath and released it.
"We don't know what to think right now."
Papers shuffled on his end. "I have it right here. Yup. It was the same night."
"Okay. Thanks Skeet." I told him about the cookout we were having the next day, and he said he'd try to make it. We'd been friends since grade school, and we didn't get to hang out nearly as much as we used to.
I e
nded the call, slipped my phone back into my pocket, and turned to Hunter. "What do you think?" I asked.
"I think I need a beer and a quiet minute to think," he said, grabbing my helmet off the counter and handing it to me.
The ride to the farm was beautiful. He swung off from the main drag and led us around the back way so we got a little extra time on the bikes. I knew he was taking the time to mull things over, so I left the Bluetooth off and did the same.
When we turned off the main road onto the driveway to the farm, I hated that the ride was over. Still, driving through the shaded tunnel created by ancient oaks that stood sentry on either of the sweeping drive always gave me the warm-and-fuzzies. The farm had been my home almost all my life, and every time I drove around the bend and caught sight of the graceful old farmhouse, I could just feel the love.
We pulled up to the second barn that we used as a garage and storage building and shut off the bikes. Shelby's car was there, and Gabi and Katrina—another of our boarders—were in the arena, working their horses. It still amazed me to watch Gabi and Mayhem work together. They were so in sync that even a trained eye would have a hard time seeing the subtle cues she was giving him; it was magical to watch.
Gabi and Mayhem were at the far end of the arena and she was so focused she probably didn't even hear me pull up. I was surprised to see her riding, because she'd said that morning she was going to tear her tack apart and clean it for the show she was going to the following weekend.
Katrina rode Bones up to the gate and waved, and when I waved back, I noticed Matt and Max in the back pasture, with Matt's German Shepard, Wiz, running in circles around them.
"What are they doing back there?" I asked, propping my helmet on my tank and pulling off my jacket.
Hunter followed my gaze and shrugged. "Looks like a man and his dog ... and his ass? Just out for a stroll."
"A stroll." I cut him a sideways look to see if I could catch anything in his expression, but there was nothing there. I hated playing poker with him for exactly that reason, and I couldn't shake the feeling there was something going on.
"Yeah." He lifted a shoulder. "I mean, I'm not his babysitter, but didn't you have a patch of fence back there that needed mending? He's carrying his fencing bucket."
He was right, and I felt silly. All the mystery and intrigue was getting to me, and I had enough going on in my head that I didn't need to add anything else.
"So has he decided what to do for Anna Mae for her birthday?" I asked.
"He's got something in mind, but it's gonna be tricky to get it done, at least if he wants to surprise her with it."
"What is it?" If it was that tough, it must be a big deal.
"I promised not to tell. You'll just have to wait and find out when she does."
The gate clanked; Gabi and Mayhem were heading to the wash rack, so I went over to talk to her while she hosed him off.
"Hey," she said, taking off Mayhem's bridle and letting him take a drink out of the hose. The horse was a trip—there was a reason his barn name was Mayhem. He finished drinking then turned and rubbed his face on her. Bathing him was more a matter of transferring the dirt from him to her, it seemed.
"I thought today was tack-cleaning day."
She tilted her head, and her eyes became a little glazed. "Yeah, me too. Nikki was here earlier and Chuckles lost a shoe in the pasture, so I was helping her look for it. Next thing I know, I had this overwhelming urge to ride, so I did."
I narrowed my eyes. That sounded suspiciously like Addy's old Nunya charm. It was her go-to charm when she didn't want us nosing around something, except she usually deflected us by compelling us to clean our rooms, vacuum, dust the barn, or do some other menial task, no magic allowed.
By Christmas morning, the house was always spotless because every time we'd venture near the tree to rattle and shake the gifts or try to sneak into the Christmas desserts early, we'd fall victim to the charm.
"Did this urge, by any chance, hit you when you were in the back of the pasture?"
She crinkled her forehead. "As a matter of fact, it did. I noticed the gate wasn't clipped, and when I went to fix it, I decided to ride."
That's what I thought. The problem was, Addy couldn't do magic, so that meant she'd taught somebody else to do it, and there was only one other witch in the house.
Turning to the house, I cupped my hands around my mouth. "Shelby Lynn, get out here right now!"
She opened her bedroom window and stuck her head out, glowering at me. "What? I'm busy."
I stomped toward the house, then made my way to her room. This wasn't a conversation we needed to have with Katrina so close anyway.
The door was open, so I went on in and slammed my hands on my hips. "Did you put the Nunya charm on the back gate?"
Utter confusion crossed her face. "I wish I knew the Nunya charm. She won't teach it to me, even though I've begged her to."
At least I wasn't the only one. I'd tried to wheedle it out of her, too, but she wouldn't give it up.
"Why would you think I'd charm the gate, anyway? It just leads to the lake. There's nothing back there. If I were gonna use it, it would be to keep you out of my Snickers stash."
That was true. I had a bad habit of pilfering through her hidden cache of candy. Though to be fair, it wasn't that well-hidden if I could find it with a simple reveal spell.
"Okay, then, if you didn't do it, then who did?" Now I was beginning to doubt myself.
"Back up a few steps," she said. "What made you think I'd spelled the gate to begin with?"
"Gabi," I said. "She was helping Nikki look for Chuckles's shoe, and when she touched the gate, she had an overwhelming urge to go ride."
She lifted a shoulder. "So what? Maybe she just really wanted to ride. Or didn't want to traipse around the pasture."
"Nah, I've seen Max coming from back there a couple times, and just now, he and Matt were back there."
Shaking her head, she said, "I think you're way overthinking a couple of coincidences."
I took a deep breath, then started to doubt myself again. "You're probably right."
She wasn't right.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
I THREW TOGETHER A snack plate with Ritz crackers, cheese, grapes, and little PB&J sandwich squares to take outside, grabbing the jug of tea and some Solo cups to wash it down. I picked my way across the yard, mind churning.
Hunter had his bike on the wash rack, detailing it as he always did after a ride. "Hey handsome," I said giving him my sugary-sweetest smile. "When you're done with yours, you're more than welcome to do mine, too."
"Hmph. I love you. Not that much."
Well, it was worth a try. Instead, I flicked a wrist toward my bike, making dusting motions. The dirt disappeared, and the metallic flecks in the paint made the whole bike shiny.
Hunter wiped his brow on his sleeve and stared at me with a combination of disbelief and disgust. "You know, caring for your bike, making sure it shines and knowing you put in the effort is part of the pride of ownership," he said, more sweat dripping off his grime-streaked nose.
"I know," I said. "And I am proud of the way it's shining. I'll finish up yours if you want."
He just shook his head. "No thanks," he said, his tone superior. I almost expected him to sniff. "Unlike some people, putting the elbow grease in is part of the joy for me."
I felt a little guilty because I wasn't usually that lazy. I'd done it more to be a smart-ass than anything else. Not guilty enough to put the dirt back, mind you, but enough that I sent a cool breeze blowing over Hunter. He looked up from scrubbing a rim and tried to scowl at me, but I suspected the breeze felt too nice.
"You're such a weenie," he said, giving up the effort and laughing.
"Now that the obvious has been stated, how are things going with the mystery ghost?" Gabi asked, running the rag over the brow band.
"I'm not sure," I answered, popping a grape into my mouth. "I haven't really talked to Addy. I di
d have an interesting visit from Charity Lane, though."
I detailed the conversation, careful to leave nothing out, then Hunter did the same with his conversation with Gilbert. He had much less to share than I did.
Gabi had a way of looking at things from all angles, and I was eager to hear her take on the situation. She thought about it for a few minutes as she spritzed more soap onto the leather then worked it in.
"It sounds like you have the classic king of his domain thing going in, extreme version. My guess? The kids are either cowed into submission or ready to rebel, or maybe a little of both. The wife sounds like she's done it for so many years she's given up hope. Still, given the Coke thing, she might be willing to jump ship if she felt she had a snowball's chance in hell of escaping or making it on her own if she did."
"And Gilbert?" Hunter asked. He was an excellent judge of character and had, without a doubt, already formed an opinion. He was also open-minded and willing to hear another take.
She shook her head. "I'm with Noelle there. It's hard to tell. Lots of those folks are just tight-lipped because they figure it's none of your business what goes on in their family. That doesn't mean he did anything wrong."
She rubbed the last of the soap off the leather and opened the conditioner. “Charity didn't mention him laying hands on her or the kids—she only said it wasn't outside the realm of possibility that he killed Missy. That could be a reality, or it could be her making it bigger than what it is because of her inflated view of his power."
In a nutshell, then, it was useless to speculate.
I picked up her reins and an extra rag she'd brought, and we all worked in comfortable silence, just enjoying the nice afternoon. Every once in a while, one of us would grab a mini-sandwich or cracker, but other than that, it was nice to just exist for a little bit, spending a Sunday afternoon the way it was meant to be spent.
Remembering my promise to Erol, I asked, "Do either of you know if I can control the TV at the shop from my phone, even if I'm not there?"
"Hmm," Gabi said. "I'd think with all the tech out there, you probably can, but I have no idea how you'd go about it. That sounds like a perfect question for Cody."
