by Raven Snow
“You should hurry then.” Rose waved her cousin and Eric on. “It’s probably important if he’s calling for you.”
Rowen frowned. She didn’t want to leave things like this. It wasn’t like Rose seemed angry, but still. It felt wrong to just up and leave her. “Sorry we’re skipping out on dinner,” she said to Peter instead.
Peter shook his head. “Oh, don’t worry about offending me. This sounds much more important.”
It was, unfortunately. “I’ll see you guys later.” Rowen headed for the door, closely followed by her husband.
“I wish we could have stayed to eat,” Eric grumbled. “What are we gonna eat now?”
“We’ll pick up something on the way home,” Rowen promised. “Either that or a good old murder scene will make you lose your appetite.”
***
The scene of the crime was a little house a stone’s throw from Downtown Lainswich. Rowen found she knew the house well as she parked between the police cruisers and the coroner in the driveway. “I drive by this place all the time,” said Rowen, parking and cutting the engine. She had always thought this house was cute with its shutters and latticework, its garden and white picket fence. “It’s been like this all my life. When my cousins and I were little girls, we used to argue about who was going to get to live in this place when we grew up.”
“Well, it might be on the market now,” offered Eric.
Rowen swatted her husband on the arm. “Not funny.”
“Sorry,” said Eric, not sounding like he really meant it. At this point, they were both more than a little desensitized to this sort of thing. It seemed to go hand in hand with being a crime solving witch living in a place like Lainswich.
“Let’s head inside.” Rowen got out of the car and headed for the front door. She didn’t have to knock before it was opened. A police officer she barely recognized stood there. He frowned when he saw the two Greensmiths.
“Can I help you?” asked the officer.
“Sure. Can you get Ben?” asked Rowen. “He asked us to come here.”
The officer sighed. “Hey, Boss!” he called. “Did you call that Greensmith girl here?!”
Footsteps grew closer. Soon Ben came into view. “I did. Come on in. Mind what you touch and where you step,” he warned, ushering Rowen and Eric inside.
The interior of the house was about how Rowen had imagined it would be from the outside. It was stuck in a simpler time. The carpet was shaggy and old but kept up well. Black and white pictures hung on the walls. Freshly picked flowers stood on just about every flat surface. The smell was cloying to Rowen, but it certainly looked pretty. She rounded the corner into the den of the house and very nearly ran into Ben.
Ben looked up and back. “Oh, good, you’re here.” He stepped to one side, revealing the body at his feet. The deceased was an elderly lady. She was face down on the floor a few feet from a recliner. Her white hair was shoulder length and in springing curls. Her skirt was hiked up around her knees where she had fallen. “We think she died on her way to the phone.” Ben pointed to a landline directly in front of her. It looked like she had almost reached it before expiring.
“What do you think happened?” asked Rowen just before being blinded by a flash. She quickly stepped out of the way of the photographer.
“We’ve only taken a cursory look at her so far,” said Ben, frowning down at the body. “It’s hard to say with people this age. Something internal, I’d guess. She must have felt it coming on though— hence going for the phone.”
“That’s horrible,” said Rowen, crouching down to get a better look at the body.
“I had a grandfather on one side of my family who they found a lot like this,” Eric said with a frown. “The doctors said he must have been in a lot of pain.”
Rowen looked up at her husband. “Why would they tell you that?”
Eric shrugged. “I dunno. If I died horribly, I’d like other people to know how much it sucked.”
“Is that why you complain nonstop when you get so much as a cold?” Rowen looked back to the body. “So, you think it was natural causes?”
“I haven’t ruled anything out yet,” Ben assured them. “After what you said after dinner last night, I figured I should call you in and check to see what you thought.”
“I’m not sure how much help I’ll be able to offer.” Rowen closed her eyes, trying to get a read off the room anyway. The house was very old. That was the first thing that Rowen realized. It was older than her, older than her aunts, older than several generations of Greensmiths most likely. There were memories upon memories in this place. Most of them were overwhelmingly nice. It put a good feeling in Rowen’s chest. She smiled at the impressions she got. She could practically smell the home cooking and hear the laughter. She tried honing in on the present, to last night when this woman had passed away.
There wasn’t a whole lot to find. There were just content feelings right up until intense pain. “What’s her name?” asked Rowen.
“Dina Drew,” said Ben.
“And does she have any family living in Lainswich?” asked Eric.
Rowen could have answered that question, but Ben beat her to it. “She has a son and a daughter and a few grandkids on the son’s side.”
Rowen nodded. She had gotten a strong impression of those two in getting a sense of this place. She could hear their laughter. Kids had grown up happy here. It felt like they were regular visitors to this household even after that. “This could just be natural causes.” That wasn’t Rowen’s normal first guess, but she felt the need to mention it. Maybe the happiness here was just overwhelming the negativity of last night. Rowen walked to the old woman’s chair. The remote was still on the arm of the recliner. There was a lamp on the desk, a tablet, some eye drops and a glass that looked like some ice cubes had melted in it. Everything looked fairly normal.
“I hope you’re right about that,” Ben sighed. “That would certainly save me a lot of trouble.”
Eric spun around on the spot, his hands jammed into his pockets so he wouldn’t touch anything. “Do you mind if we take a look around the house?”
Ben hesitated but finally nodded. “Don’t touch anything,” he warned. “Don’t even open closed doors, not until I say we’re done here.”
Rowen nodded and headed into a nearby hallway. She did as Eric had done and put her own hands in her pockets to fight the urge of touching things. She hesitated near the master bedroom. The door was open and, inside, the bed was made up somewhat sloppily. This was the room where Dina had slept up until now. Rowen could sense it. That could mean Dina hadn’t felt up to doing daily rituals in her final days. Even chores that had become second nature may have become difficult. Rowen took note of that but kept moving. She wasn’t sensing a whole lot from the bedroom.
Eric paused here and there to look at things. Rowen followed her instincts, the pull of the place. She came to the back door and paused. She began to take her hand from her pocket and open it but managed to stop herself at the last moment. “Hello?” she called, quietly. She closed her eyes, trying to hear a response. It felt an awful lot like someone was standing before her. “Hello, is anyone there?”
“Everything okay?” asked Eric, coming up behind his wife.
“Shh,” Rowen hissed. “I think I can hear something.”
“What is it?”
“Shush so I can figure that out!” Rowen snapped before going back to listening. The reply she was waiting for came slow and quietly.
H-hello? came a woman’s voice. It had the almost gravely quality of someone who had spent the last fifty to sixty years smoking. Who’s there?
“I’m Rowen Greensmith,” Rowen said, aloud. She knew that Eric had to be staring at her, only able to hear one half of the conversation. There wasn’t much to do about that. She tried not to think about him. He knew not to interrupt when this sort of thing was going on. “Do you know where you are?”
A Greensmith? the voice repeated. If the name bot
hered her, she didn’t pay it much mind for long. I’m Dina Drew. I live here. I… I’m not sure what’s going on right now.
Eric had caught up with Rowen. He stopped a few feet away and stared. Rowen raised a hand, confirming for him that she needed quiet. “You…” Rowen tried to find a better way to phrase it. Unfortunately, there was never a good way to tell someone they had been killed. “You died.” Rowen just came right out with it. “I’m sorry.”
There was silence. It was difficult to read precisely what Dina was feeling. Oh, she said, finally. I see… I suppose it was only a matter of time, hmm?
Rowen was relieved to hear how well she was taking all of this. “Happens to everyone.”
I still had things I wanted to do, Dina said with a burst of emotion not unlike a sigh. I suppose I should go ahead and move on.
“Wait,” Rowen said quickly. “Do you know how it is you died?”
There was silence again. Rowen would have been concerned that she had left if she couldn’t sense her lingering. Last night, I had the news on. I was listening to it while I played one of those jigsaw puzzle games on the tablet my daughter got me. Love that thing. Wasn’t sure about it at first, but it’s a handy thing to have. My daughter said it’d keep my mind sharp… Though I’m not sure that matters now.
“Do you remember anything after that?” asked Rowen, trying to keep things on track.
Suddenly I was in a whole bunch of pain. I can’t really explain it. It was all over. When I realized it wasn’t just going to pass, I went for the phone… I guess I didn’t make it.
“No,” Rowen confirmed for her.
There came another sigh. Tell my son and daughter I love them very much. Tell everyone I miss them very much. There were so many people I cared for. Everyone was always so good to me. Tell my grandkids and my friends not to be too upset if they can help it.
Rowen wasn’t sure how well that would work. People were seldom open to messages she brought them from the other side. “I will,” she promised anyway. “Do you have anything else that would be helpful for me to know? Is there any chance you could have been murdered?”
I believe it was just my time. I felt my energy fading these past couple of months. Like you said, it happens to all of us sooner or later. Dina’s voice was growing more distant. It wasn’t long now before she moved on.
“Did you have any health problems that you knew of before this happened?” asked Rowen. There was no answer this time. It was her turn to sigh. “She’s moved on.” Rowen glanced back at Eric. He was still staring patiently.
“Did she say anything helpful?” asked Eric. “Does she think she was murdered?”
“She seems to think it was natural causes.” Rowen shrugged. “If that’s what it sounds like and looks like, I dunno. Maybe it was natural causes after all.” Even as she spoke the words, Rowen could feel an unyielding pang of intuition. Something still didn’t feel right to her here. “We should go talk to Ben.”
When Rowen got back to the living room, Dina Drew’s body was being loaded onto a stretcher. She was unnaturally still and waxy from the front. The sight of the little old lady made Rowen want to look away. It reminded her of her own grandmother’s death not all that long ago. Unlike this woman, she had been murdered—or had Dina? Rowen still had her doubts.
Ben looked up when Rowen approached. “Find anything of use?”
Rowen nodded. “Something like that. Can we talk privately?” They were surrounded by people. It was for the best not to let them listen in.
“Carry on,” Ben told everyone. He walked with Rowen to the back of the house. Eric followed. “What did you find out?” Ben asked, once they were alone.
“I found Dina’s spirit,” Rowen said, quietly.
Ben raised his eyebrows like this was of great interest to him. “Oh? What did she say? Was she murdered?”
“She didn’t seem to think so. She said she was just watching television last night when it happened. All of a sudden she was hurting all over and headed for the phone. She believes it was natural causes.”
Ben nodded. “Well, that’s a relief.”
“There’s still something wrong about this,” Rowen said, quickly. “Something still doesn’t feel right.”
“I’ll talk to the family. We’ll do our best to do a thorough autopsy,” Ben assured her.
Rowen still didn’t feel comfortable. She knew her job here was finished as far as Ben was concerned, but she still couldn’t bring herself to leave. “I’m definitely sensing a murder.”
Eric gave his wife’s shoulder a squeeze. “You heard Ben. They’ll cover all the bases. If this was a murder, they’ll figure it out.”
Rowen nodded. “Right,” she said. “Except, what if the murder hasn’t happened yet?”
Chapter Three
"You’re thinking about this too much,” Eric said, looking down at his wife sprawled across the couch. She was looking at her laptop, dozens of tabs open on her internet browser. It was all about the Drew family. She had learned lots of things in the last few hours. Richard Drew was Dina’s son. He was a banker with the perfect nuclear family. He appeared to have a loving wife, a son who played sports and a daughter on Lainswich High’s cheerleading team. They spent a lot of time doing family activities like grilling outdoors or going on vacation to distant locales. Despite the fact that he had just lost his mother, Rowen found herself feeling a tad jealous.
The sister, Veronica Drew, was a personal trainer. She worked at one of the two gyms in Lainswich. She was unmarried but she took plenty of pictures for social media. She was always in workout clothes. Tank tops, leggings, short shorts. Her muscles were all well-defined and intimidating. She had selfies on mountaintops and at marathons. Some pictures had her at cookouts with Dina, Richard, and his family. In all those pictures she was smiling. It didn’t look forced. The Drews appeared to genuinely get along with one another. Rowen liked that. Families getting along was nice. She wondered if they had been told the tragic news yet. Their social media didn’t say anything about it. Granted, they might not post that sort of thing if they were grieving.
“Stalking them online is sort of creepy,” Eric muttered, standing just behind Rowen.
“It’s research,” Rowen insisted.
“Research on what? We’re not even sure that there’s been a murder yet. We don’t have anything to look into.”
“It’s a feeling I’ve got.” Rowen looked away from her computer to frown at her husband. “You should know more than anyone that I’m usually right about this stuff.”
“Fair enough,” Eric conceded. He squatted down beside the sofa to take a look at the screen himself. “How do you even know that these people will have anything to do with the murder? It could easily be a completely different thing.”
“I have to start somewhere. This is the only place I’ve got.”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t be researching this at all yet.”
Rowen was deciding whether to argue or agree with that when there was a knock on her door. She looked at Eric, but Eric just shrugged. Rowen got to her feet as he headed to the door to answer it. “Oh, hey,” he said, sounding surprised by a face that was familiar. “Are you here to see Rowen?”
“If that’s all right,” said a voice Rowen instantly recognized as belonging to Rose. “I was on my way home and thought I’d swing by at the last minute.”
“Of course that’s all right.” Rowen stopped at Eric’s side. “Come on in. Do you want anything to drink? We’ve got Chinese food leftover from dinner. Want some?”
“I’m all right,” Rose said quickly. She glanced at Eric as she entered. “Do you mind if just the two of us talk?” she asked, quietly. “Sorry, Eric.”
“That’s no problem at all,” Eric assured her. “I’ll go upstairs and watch some TV with Chester. Come on boy.” Eric slapped his thigh, getting their lazy old dog up from where he was sprawled out on the floor. With a stretch and a yawn, he followed.
“What’s up?” R
owen asked once he had gone.
Rose sighed. “It’s stupid.”
“Try me.” Rowen thought she had a pretty good idea of what was bothering her cousin. “Come on. Let’s go sit down.”
Rose hesitated. She lingered near the door like she was thinking about just leaving. Finally, she went to the sofa and sat down. “It isn’t anything really big,” she assured her. “Well, I mean, it shouldn’t be.”
Rowen led the way to the sofa. She set the laptop to one side so that Rose could sit down. “Is this about the proposal?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“It’s the biggest thing going on in your life that I know of, so… yeah.”
Rose scrubbed at her eyes with the heels of her hands. “It’s all my fault.”
“How do you figure that? And why is anyone at fault?”
“After the whole marriage talk we had in the woods, I brought it up to him again in the car. I didn’t make any ultimatums or anything. I just kind of hinted that that was the sort of wedding I would like, you know? Just a small one out in the woods. The next thing I know, he’s asking me if I want to see if Nadine would be all right with us getting married just after her. I was too surprised to give an outright refusal. At first, I was even a little excited. It was a proposal! I’d been waiting for a proposal. But then, the more I thought about it, the more apprehensive I became.”
“Because it wasn’t exactly the romantic proposal you had been waiting for?” asked Rowen.
Rose nodded. “Something like that, I guess. And that seems silly. It’s not like I need an engagement ring. It’s not like I even need an engagement. I’m already living with the guy. I love him. I’d marry him. For a long time now I’ve known I would marry him. I just—I guess I was hoping—”
“You want a wedding better than the one you’re getting.”
Rose nodded. “I know that’s selfish. I wouldn’t want to blow money on anything frivolous. I just don’t really like the idea of leeching off of Aunt Nadine’s wedding like this.”
