Marriages and Murders (Lainswich Witches Series Book 13)

by Raven Snow

  Just as Rowen’s pessimism was beginning to get the better of her, someone else’s thoughts filtered through her brain. What are you doing here?

  It was Dimitri. Rowen recognized the energy immediately. Suddenly, it was all around her. She didn’t answer him immediately, didn’t let him know that she had fingered him as a murderer. Just following up on everything. I didn’t realize you had a son. A chip off the old block, huh? Taking over the family business?

  There was silence from Dimitri for another stretch of time after that. Don’t patronize me.

  “Apologies. I didn’t mean to.” She bit her bottom lip, preparing to confront him. He wasn’t your first choice to run this little budding empire of yours, huh?

  No.

  “If you had your way, I suppose you would have built it up all on your own. Eventually, you might have named a successor, but it sounds like you didn’t really think that far ahead.”

  I was murdered, Dimitri reminded her, a great deal of anger in those thoughts. He seemed mad that it had happened and equally mad that Rowen was treating it with any degree of levity. No, I can’t say that I had planned for that.

  “That’s fair. I don’t suppose Dina Drew planned for her murder either.” Rowen waited, trying to sense what kind of a response Dimitri would have to that. It wasn’t a difficult thing to get a sense of. Even the guys at the dinner table shivered. The room had grown much colder all of a sudden. “I know you killed her. I can prove it.” That last part, again, wasn’t the truth. Rowen was good at compartmentalizing those sorts of thoughts, though. She kept that little fact to herself.

  Dimitri remained skeptical regardless. How dare you? You’re lying. I loved that woman.

  Rowen wasn’t surprised that he was maintaining his innocence. She had suspected he would. Now she just needed to find a way around all that. She needed to find answers by convincing him she already had them. You poisoned her. It was a gamble. The perfume hadn’t panned out quite the way Rowen had hoped it would. She still felt like she was on to something with that, though.

  I didn’t, Dimitri responded, but it was with the kind of speedy insistence that suggested she was making him nervous. You haven’t been telling people that, have you? How dare you suggest I hurt someone I dearly loved? How dare you? The dinner table shook a bit, rattling plates and plastic utensils.

  “What in the world?” Marco muttered around a mouth full of chicken. He looked down at the table, laying his hands down flat on it. “Do a lot of earthquakes come through here?”

  “Something like that,” said Ben, his eyes on Rowen.

  How could you do that to someone you said you loved? She trusted you! Rowen was doing her best to goad Dimitri into blurting out everything at this point. She hoped he didn’t catch on to the fact that she didn’t have a whole heck of a lot to go on.

  He did. You don’t have any evidence. The room stopped shaking and the air grew slightly warmer. You don’t have any evidence at all.

  Had Rowen shown her hand? No, she felt like she had been convincing. Dimitri’s realization that she had been bluffing had been a sudden one. Why was that? It hit Rowen all at once. The thing that he had used to poison Dina, the thing he had died trying to retrieve was still in the house.

  “What is it?” Rowen demanded.

  Why would I tell you? Dimitri’s energy had grown more erratic. Even if everything you were saying was true, why would I help you?

  “Because someone else could get killed!” Rowen was vaguely aware that the rest of the room was watching her. Even Eric’s small talk couldn’t distract them at this point. Rowen was gripping the edge of the table so tight, she couldn’t feel her hands anymore. She couldn’t let this happen. She couldn’t let Dimitri’s crimes go unknown. “Is that what you want your legacy to be? Two murders and a failed chain of grocery stores?”

  I can guide my son. It’ll be a chore, but I’ll manage it. They can’t pin those murders on me. Where’s the evidence?

  Rowen hesitated when he said that. Why was he wording things as though there had already been another victim. “Was another person poisoned?” she demanded. “Just now?”

  Dimitri didn’t answer, but he didn’t need to. Rowen stood, nearly toppling her chair as she did so. It all came rushing to her. The answer had been in plain sight this whole time. How had she missed it? Her heart pounded in her chest as she rushed from the room. Please don’t let her be too late. “Rose!” she shouted.

  “In here!” Richard called from the hallway nearest the back door.

  Rowen ran in that direction, skidding to a stop so suddenly she nearly ran into both Rose and Richard. She took a critical look at both of them. Almost immediately, she saw it. The eye drops. Rose was holding them in one hand. Rowen snatched them from her. “You didn’t use these did you?”

  Rose looked back at Richard. “He said I could.”

  Richard, in turn, nodded. “It’s not like my mother is using them anymore. I told her she could keep them.”

  “Ben!” Rowen shouted, but Ben was already behind her. She held the eye drops up so that everyone could see them. “These are what killed Dina Drew. This was how Dimitri poisoned her.”

  “What?” asked Marco. He was the last person to enter the room and was looking from person to person, visibly very confused. “My father did what now?”

  “You used them?” Ben stepped past Rowen and grabbed Rose by the shoulders. “You used them?”

  Rose nodded. Her eyes were huge. She looked frightened, like she wasn’t quite sure what to make of any of this. “W-what kind of a poison was it? Should I go to the hospital?”

  “What kind of poison is in this?” Rowen demanded, addressing the empty space above everyone’s heads. Dimitri was still here. She could sense him and his reluctance to divulge any useful information. She turned her attention back to Rose. That was the more urgent matter. “Take her to the hospital,” she told Ben, pressing the bottle into Ben’s hand. He nodded and began to pull her out the front door.

  “Wait,” Rose began, but there wasn’t any debate to be had. There wasn’t time for her to question things. Rowen wouldn’t allow it and neither would Ben. Rose was too important.

  “What was in those eye drops?!” Rowen demanded again.

  Why should I tell you? Dimitri asked, miserably. There was a heaviness about him, a hopelessness. This was someone that felt they had just lost everything. What more did he have left to lose?

  Plenty. Dimitri Harris had plenty left to lose. Rowen strode back into the den and started pushing around furniture. Eric immediately began to help. Meanwhile, Richard and Marco just stared. “I am so lost right now,” said Marco. Fortunately, he didn’t ask any questions. He seemed content enough to just stand there and watch.

  A knock on the door got Richard’s attention. He headed in that direction, giving Rowen a wide berth as he went around her. She had finished moving the furniture and was now taking deep, cleansing breaths. It would help if she could center herself, but it didn’t feel like that was going to happen any time soon. She was just too angry. “Last chance,” she said out loud, addressing Dimitri as she marched into the dining room.

  “Last chance for what?” asked Willow.

  “What are we doing here?” asked Peony.

  The sisters stepped into the dining room after their cousin, looking intrigued. Peony had a camera hanging around her neck. She was gripping it like something worth photographing was about to happen. Willow cast an intrigued look around the room. “Is there a ghost here?”

  “Yep,” said Rowen, rifling through her purse and not finding anything close to what she was looking for. “Do either of you have, like, a marker or a box cutter or something?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  The sisters answered in the affirmative together. Rowen went to the kitchen and threw open some cabinets as her cousins delved into their own purses and pockets. She found a mason jar. That would do. She turned back to her cousins. Willow was holding o
ut a fat black marker. Peony had what looked suspiciously like a butterfly knife. Rowen didn’t even ask. She just took the marker and headed back for the den.

  “What is… What are you—” Richard stumbled over his words.

  “Just let her work,” said Eric. “Sorry. I know this seems bizarre. It’s probably about to get weirder.”

  “Will one of you make me a circle?” asked Rowen. She didn’t care which one of her cousins did it. She was already on her knees, the marker uncapped. “This is your last chance!” she shouted. Dimitri didn’t respond. She began to draw the sigil.

  “Hey, wait!” Richard began to object when Rowen started drawing on his floor.

  Eric must have restrained him. “We’ll pay for the damages,” he promised.

  Rowen threw her all into the symbol she was drawing. She felt it strengthen as the circle she had asked her cousins to create closed. All that magical energy was being directed to one place. Rowen instilled it with her will. She had done this once before with a spirit more powerful than Dimitri. In comparison, this felt almost trivial.

  With the sigil finished, Rowen placed the jar upon it. Dimitri had been hovering above her, as curious as all the other onlookers in the room. Rowen directed all her energy toward him next and felt his shock as he was directed down.

  Wait! he shouted. The words were audible to all now. Again the air grew cold and the floors shook. I don’t remember the name of it!

  Rowen kept pushing the spirit down into the jar. She could feel her cousins helping now. Against all three of them, he had no chance.

  It won’t kill her! Dimitri continued, desperate. You have to take it over a long period of time or already have bad health! It’s fine! She’ll be fine!

  “I’m glad to hear that.” Rowen slapped the lid on the jar and screwed it on tight. She’d given him his chance. No one hurt her family. Rowen stood with the jar in her hands. She took a deep breath and looked around the room. Everyone was staring. No one really had the full story of what had just happened. “I… ah… need to get to the hospital.” She looked down at the jar. “This should probably be yours.” She handed it to Marco. “Your dad’s in there.”

  Marco stared at her. “What?”

  “I’m in a hurry right now, but we should probably talk later. Keep that closed until then.” She hastily motioned her cousins toward the door before glancing back at Richard. “Sorry about the floor.” At least she hadn’t used the knife on it.

  Epilogue

  It wasn’t the nicest of days. It was storming. It wasn’t a slight drizzle either. It was a full-blown downpour. It was so sudden, Rowen hadn’t even thought to bring an umbrella. Her clothes and hair were soaked through by the time she and Eric had even made it across the parking lot.

  Then there was the matter of Marco Harris. He’d been calling Rowen so much, she had already missed several important calls from her aunts and cousins. That meant no one grabbed the cake and Willow ran late because her car broke down and no one was handy to pick her up. In hindsight, she probably should have blocked the guy’s calls for the day.

  “What do I do with the jar?” he’d ask.

  “Whatever you think is best,” she’d tell him again.

  “Will he be mad, do you think?” The stores had all closed down or sold. That was good news for the Drews. Though it couldn’t make up for the loss of their mother, they had received a fair portion of the proceeds. That was good news for Richard’s wife, Amy. It sounded like she would get her game room after all. It was even better news for the late Dina Drew. Last Rowen checked, her old house was officially a historical landmark for Lainswich. That was nice. It seemed like something Dina would have liked. Less nice was Marco’s burgeoning existential crisis. “Will he haunt me?”

  “If you’re that nervous about it, just keep him on a shelf. He’s not getting out on his own anytime soon.” Rowen could think of no greater punishment than Dimitri being confined to a jar, forced to watch his son squander whatever meager fortune and good name he had left. Rowen knew she had just about had enough of Marco.

  Worse even than Marco, though, was Natalie Marie May. Rowen had fully expected the spirit from the morgue to move on after her funeral, but no. She had stuck around to make sure Rowen kept up her deal of the bargain. I knew you weren’t trustworthy. I just knew it. Go on. Go tell my sister what I think of her. You promised. The ghost had been at it for about a week now. Sometimes Rowen would forget she was there and then jump when she came in with a snide little remark.

  Your hair is wet, sneered Natalie as Rowen walked out of the rain and into the front door of the police station. Your mascara is running.

  “Shut up,” Rowen grumbled.

  “Huh?” Eric looked down at his wife. The rain hadn’t hurt his good looks any. If it was possible, he looked even better with that blond hair of his slicked down and his clothes clinging to him.

  “Natalie,” Rowen said by way of explanation, giving a dismissive wave of her hand.

  The dress you’re wearing makes you look fat.

  “No it doesn’t. Now be quiet for this and I’ll leave those home renovation shows you like running in the guest bedroom all night.” That did the trick. Natalie shut up and Rowen was finally allowed to focus on what really mattered. Despite the day being a lousy one, she really couldn’t have been happier. Rose was getting married.

  It wasn’t a big ceremony. It wasn’t even a long one. The original plan was to have it outside of the police station. When it had started raining, they moved the whole thing inside.

  No one objected—at least no one that Rowen saw. Not everyone working at the station liked the Greensmiths, but they did respect their chief. A wedding at work was an odd choice. Rowen hadn’t questioned it. She’d seen the way Rose smiled when Ben announced the specifics of their marriage plans.

  The only person who seemed even the slightest bit unhappy was Aunt Lydia. She bemoaned the short ceremony and the fact that Rose was wearing a simple blouse and skirt and not a proper wedding dress. Having had a courthouse wedding herself, she wasn’t really one to talk.

  This is nice, said Natalie. They really love each other… That doesn’t count as saying something. You still have to leave the TV on for me.

  Rowen smiled and nodded in response to both those things. She agreed. She hoped it worked out. She hoped Ben could keep his position and Rose her journalistic integrity. At least now, even if things went sideways for them, they had each other through it all. They had figured out what was most important in their lives. Things were finally as they should be again.

  The smile was wiped from Rowen’s face when Rose put out a fluorescent light tossing her bouquet. Despite the destruction, several women still shoved and clawed and grabbed for it. It was Peony who emerged cackling with crazed laughter, holding the bouquet aloft like a trophy.

  Rowen cringed. Maybe she was relaxing too soon. That didn’t seem like a good omen at all.

  *The End*

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