Without a glance toward me, he reached out to Juliet and took her hands in his. Leaning down, he kissed her on both cheeks while murmuring words I couldn’t hear.
Juliet’s face flushed with pleasure.
Stepping back, he slipped one arm around his wife’s waist and turned to me.
When I met Jason at the lake, he’d worn sunglasses and I didn’t see his eyes. Now I did. Dark and deep-set in his narrow face, they blazed as he looked into mine. They seemed to probe, penetrate, as if he was attempting to see inside my head. I felt mesmerized. Unnerved, I took a step back and broke eye contact.
When I returned my eyes to his face, the impression I had was gone. All I saw was a pair of dark brown eyes looking at me companionably.
“Ophelia, welcome,” he said, smiling.
“Thank you.”
He glanced over at Tink. “Come over here, darling,” he said, extending his arm toward her, “and say hello to Ophelia.”
Tink crossed the room with her blond head down. Dressed in an outfit identical to the ones the adults wore, she took her place next to Jason.
Up close, I saw she wore her spider’s necklace. The fragile silver web sparkled against the white of her tunic. And the bloodred stone in the center glowed in the candlelight.
“Hello,” she said in a small voice.
“Hi, Tink. Nice to see you again,” I replied pleasantly.
When she didn’t answer, Juliet’s smile faded, replaced with a look of concern.
Jason covered the moment by laying a hand on Tink’s shoulder. “Darling, why don’t you give Ophelia the gift you made for her?”
Without a word, and with her eyes still downcast, Tink walked like a puppet to the table and picked up a small package, wrapped in homemade paper. Returning, she handed me the gift. As she did, she finally looked up at me.
I almost dropped the small parcel. Her violet eyes were vacant. Nobody home. The thought jumped into my head, but lucky for me, not out my mouth.
“Ahh, thank you, Tink,” I stuttered, trying to recover myself. “Very nice of you to think of me.”
Juliet watched Tink proudly while I unwrapped the gift. Once free of its paper, the scent of roses and lavender crept up from the small, square muslin pouch I held in my hand.
“A sachet?” I asked.
“Yes,” Jason said with satisfaction. “Tink makes them all by herself and we sell them at craft shows. Don’t we, darling?” he asked Tink.
Wordlessly, she nodded, her eyes once again fixed on the floor in front of her.
Before I could reply, Winnie’s high voice called from the kitchen. “Dinner is served.”
Eighteen
We ate a simple but delicious meal of vegetarian lasagna, fresh salad, and whole grain bread. Jason and Juliet carried most of the conversation, asking questions about my life in Summerset, my job at the library, what I liked to read, and so on. Jason told amusing stories, but he played to an audience of one—Juliet. Even when speaking directly to me, he would cast quick glances her way to gauge her reaction. But all during the conversation over dinner, the subject of psychics and the paranormal did not come up.
Winnie tried to join in with her high fluty voice when given the opportunity. Juliet acknowledged her remarks with tolerant looks, but Jason’s face pinched with annoyance. And every time his expression changed, Winnie’s level of exuberance drooped like a wilted flower.
Tink ignored everyone. With her head down and her eyes fixed firmly on the table in front of her, she moved her fork from her plate to her mouth with all the emotion of a robot. Several times during the meal I caught Juliet watching her with a worried look on her face.
What was wrong with this kid? I was not an expert on children, but I’d been around enough kids at the library to know Tink’s behavior was anything but normal.
The meal finished, Winnie went to the kitchen and came back with a teapot and three cups.
Juliet moved around the table to Tink’s chair. Stroking her bent head, she gazed down at her. “It’s time for your studies now, dear. Say good-night to everyone and I’ll be in later to check on you.”
Tink rose without comment, mumbled a quick good-night, and wandered off down the hall.
Juliet, her hands clasped tightly in front of her, watched Tink’s retreating back. Sadness hovered around her like a fog.
Jason stood and crossed to stand behind his wife. He placed both hands on her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. She responded by leaning back against her husband.
It seemed Juliet drew strength from Jason’s touch, and the air of sadness lifted. Turning to me, she smiled. “Why don’t you and Jason enjoy your tea on the deck? I’ll join you after we’re finished cleaning up.”
I stood quickly. “No, please, let me help.”
She waved my request away with one hand. “No, you’re our guest. It won’t take Winnie and me long.”
Winnie bustled toward me with cup in hand, so I had no choice but to do what Juliet requested. I followed Jason out onto the deck.
The moon I’d noticed when I arrived was high above the pine trees now, hanging in a sky littered with stars. We couldn’t see the lake from where we sat—too many trees blocked the view—but I could hear the gentle lapping of the water on the rocks along the shore.
I looked over my shoulder toward the cabin I knew lay hidden in a clearing, past the pines that ringed the Finches’ house. A chill crept up my spine.
“Did someone step on your grave?”
Startled, I whipped my head around to look at Jason sitting in one of the deck chairs. “What did you say?”
Light shining from the interior of the house cast his strong face in half shadow, but I could still see his smile.
“You shivered. It made me think of the old saying about when someone shivers; it means their grave has been stepped on.” He leaned forward. “It’s just an old saying. I’m sorry if it upset you.”
“No, I’m not upset,” I said, sitting on the deck chair next to him. “I was so wrapped up in the beauty here, your voice startled me.”
Jason tilted his head back to look at the stars. “It is beautiful here, isn’t it?” he said in a contented voice. “I love this place. Founding this community—it’s a dream come true for me. When the world spins out of control, this place is my island of peace.”
I tapped the side of my cup. “I don’t mean to be snoopy…” Yeah, right, Jensen, I thought, pausing. “…but what exactly do you do here?”
Jason chuckled. “You’re direct, aren’t you?” Not waiting for me to answer, he continued. “We’re studying the innate intuitiveness everyone is gifted with and to what degree.”
“Psychic research?” I took a sip of the hot tea.
“Yes.” Jason’s white teeth gleamed in the half-light. “Psychic talent is so misunderstood.”
Try living with it, buster. I kept that thought to myself.
“Now it’s my turn to be direct,” Jason said, turning his head to look at me. “Winnie believes your grandmother is a psychic. Is she?”
Until that night, no one had ever asked me straight up about Abby, and now both Juliet and Jason wanted to know about her. “Ahh, well,” I hedged, “let’s just say she has certain talents.”
“Do you share those talents? Are you a psychic?”
“Are you?” I shot the question back at him.
He chuckled again. “You’re not going to confide in me, are you? I don’t blame you. As I said, psychics are misunderstood, at times even feared.” He stopped and framed his answer. “No, I’m not a psychic, but I am working on developing what intuitiveness I do possess. It’s a goal all of us have dedicated our lives to. That and spiritual growth.”
“That’s it?” I asked, perplexed. “That’s all you’re doing here?”
“Yes,” Jason said, amused. “You sound like you don’t believe me.”
“I’ve heard stories.” I stopped, trying to organize my thoughts. “Séances, things disappearing.”
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Jason’s laugh echoed across the lake. “You caught me.”
I leaned forward in surprise.
Could it really be this easy to worm a confession out of him?
Jason noticed my shocked expression and laughed again. “Ophelia, in the past, in what seems a lifetime ago, I was a stage magician.”
“What?”
“Magic, prestidigitation, sleight of hand, pulling rabbits out of a hat.”
“I know about magic,” I said, trying to absorb what his past might mean.
“Do you?” He leaned forward and watched me intently. “Do you really?”
“Of course,” I said, not wanting to look in his eyes.
He and Juliet had asked pointed questions about whether Abby and I were psychics, but now he was crossing over into a subject I had no intention of discussing.
Jason slid back in his chair, breaking the moment. “Before I met Juliet, I played clubs on the East Coast. I suppose someone learned of my past, and from there, the rumors started.”
I cocked my head. “So you don’t hold séances?”
“Heavens, no.” He shook his head emphatically.
“Nothing disappears?”
“Only my socks. I seem to be good at that, but I haven’t figured out how to make them reappear.” He grinned. “Not a very good magician, am I?” His grin slid away. “Meeting Juliet changed my life. She opened my eyes to real magic, the magic of discovering our own potential. Once I’d learned that what I did on stage seemed like such a sham—”
“You quit?” I asked, breaking in.
“I prefer the word ‘retired,’” he said in a wry voice. “But yes, I stopped performing and devoted my life to self-discovery and—”
Before he could finish, the door opened and Juliet stepped out onto the deck, holding the teapot.
“Would you like more tea?” she asked.
I covered my cup with my hand. “No thank you, but it’s very good.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it. A friend of ours sends it from England. I’d be happy to make a packet of the tea for you to take home,” Juliet said graciously.
“That’s very generous of you,” I replied.
Jason stood and looked down at me. “If you’ll excuse me, Ophelia, I always help Tink with her studies before she goes to bed. And I’m sure she’s waiting for me.” He smiled and shook my hand. “I enjoyed our conversation. Please come back.”
I nodded my agreement.
Jason gave Juliet a quick kiss and left. She watched him leave with a look of concern on her face.
It was time for me to go. When I rose, Juliet turned to me.
“You’re not leaving, are you?”
I glanced at my watch, but couldn’t see the time in the dim light. “It must be getting late, and I should go.”
“Please stay. This is such a treat, for me to entertain someone. Jason doesn’t like a lot of company, so we don’t have visitors often.” She sighed. “I love our group, but it’s nice to talk to someone from the outside for a change.”
“All right. If you’re sure?” I said, sitting.
“I’m sure,” she replied, placed the teapot down on a table and sat in Jason’s chair, casting a nervous glance back toward the door.
Light from the windows spilled across Juliet’s face, and I saw lines of worry creasing her brow. Turning her head toward me, I watched her struggle to relax.
Again she glanced at the door. “I hope Jason is able to convince Tink to go to bed.”
“She has trouble sleeping?”
“Yes.”
I was surprised. The girl seemed barely awake during dinner.
“I don’t mean to pry, but what are Tink’s health problems?” I asked.
Juliet gave a long sigh. “Her problems are more emotional than physical. Tink has always been difficult, but since her mother died…” Her voice trailed off.
“How did her mother die?”
Juliet rubbed her arms as if suddenly cold. “My sister fell down a flight of stairs, breaking her neck.” She stopped rubbing her arms and hugged herself. “We don’t know for sure how the accident happened. The only other person in the house at the time was Tink.”
My eyes widened. “How terrible. How old was Tink?”
“Five,” she said in a small voice.
Now I felt a chill. I crossed my arms and sat back in my chair. “You said Tink has always been difficult? In what way?”
Juliet’s eyes took on a faraway look. “Temper tantrums. Even as a toddler, she’d fly into a rage and break toys. Miranda, my sister, tried to hide them from the family, but we knew.”
“Where was the father?”
Juliet made a derisive noise. “He took off when Miranda got pregnant. Good riddance, as far as I was concerned. I’d always suspected that he abused Miranda, but she would never admit it.” She took a sip of cold tea from the cup Jason had left on the table. “My sister liked her secrets, but she did hint that there’d been a history of family violence in his background.”
I thought for a moment before I spoke. “It’s none of my business, but is Tink seeing anyone?”
“You mean a psychiatrist?”
I nodded.
Juliet shook her head in disgust. “We’ve been to so many doctors—psychiatrists, psychologists.” Her hands clenched the arms of the chair. “And they all had a different diagnosis. Right now, in order to control her, we have her on so much medication, she’s a zombie.”
Her frustration was so strong, I could feel it. At a loss for words, I plucked at my skirt and tried to think of something encouraging to say to her.
Juliet, fidgeting with her hands, didn’t notice my discomfort, and continued. “But someday we won’t have to rely on the doctors or the medication.” She gripped her chair tighter. “Our research into the mind is going to help Tink and others like her. I know it will.”
Impressed by her passion, I laid a comforting hand on her knee. “I’m so sorry, Juliet.”
She relaxed her hands and gave me a small smile. “Thank you. I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have dumped all of this on you. You barely know me.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said, sitting back. “Everyone needs to vent once in a while.”
“If you only knew,” she said, staring down at her lap. A tear slipped from the corner of her eye and slid down her face. “Tink has no memory of the day her mother died, and I hope she never does.”
“Wouldn’t it be better for her to remember?” I asked gently. “Then she could deal with it.”
Juliet wiped the tear away and sniffed. “No, no. You see, I was the one who found Miranda.” She hesitated. “And Tink, huddled at the top of the stairs where her mother had fallen. She was in shock and she didn’t speak for two weeks. And when she did, that day was blanked from her mind.”
“She saw her mother fall?”
But Juliet was lost in the past and didn’t hear my question.
The words tumbled out of her mouth in a rush. “She didn’t mean to. I know she didn’t. She was angry, upset. She was a child,” Juliet said, her voice pleading. “She didn’t understand the consequences of her actions. She did what she always did when she was angry—she pushed at her mother.” She lifted her face and looked at me. “Only this time it happened at the top of the stairs.”
I closed my eyes at the pain I saw written on her face.
Juliet believed that Tink had caused her mother’s death.
Nineteen
Too much information. Too much information.
My hand gripped the steering wheel so tightly, my knuckles turned white. I longed for the good old days. When I’d had the nice, strong wall built around my emotional life. When all I had to worry about was Abby, Lady, and Queenie. I hadn’t even had to worry about my parents. Margaret Mary and Will were safely tucked away in Florida—happily retired.
But now? I’m skulking around, trying to find a missing girl and hearing heartwrenching stories about children who accidentally kill
their parents. It sucked.
It also sucked being shut up in my vehicle with the flighty Winnie while I drove down the lane to the compound gate. Seems one of Winnie’s many jobs was to shut and lock the gate every night. So here I was, after Juliet’s tearful good-byes and apologies for letting her emotions get the best of her, listening with one ear as Winnie prattled on about nothing in particular.
“Jason’s a magician?” I broke in on whatever it was Winnie was talking about.
“Was a magician—he isn’t now. Oh, he still does parlor tricks to amuse Tink and the rest of the group. But they’re only for fun,” Winnie said, squirming around in her seat. “He sure reads about magic and magicians, though.”
“Really?” I stole a glance at Winnie. “Who?”
“Houdini, Blackstone, some guy named Von Schuler,” she replied, tapping her hand on the door panel.
“Von Schuler? I’ve never heard of him.”
“Me, either,” she said, and giggled. “I think Jason really likes him. He has a lot of things about him lying around in his office. Even a big framed poster of Von Schuler on the wall.” She shivered slightly. “I don’t like the poster. Whenever I’m cleaning Jason’s office, the eyes seem to follow you around the room. It’s spooky.”
Dang, there was that word again.
Winnie grabbed the dashboard. “Oh, here’s the gate. You can let me out here,” she said.
When the SUV rolled to a stop, Winnie hopped out, gave a quick wave, and hurried over to the gate. I drove through and proceeded on my way back to the cabin.
Once inside, Lady greeted me at the door, prancing. I checked the clock on the kitchen wall: 11:00 P.M. Snapping Lady’s leash on her collar, I let her rush through the door with me following. Maybe a quick run around the yard would help us both sleep.
Lady did her thing, and then set about sniffing around the yard, her leash stretched out to its full length.
I stood and watched her while I thought about my evening. Jason and Juliet Finch seemed to be caring parents to a troubled girl. At least now I knew why the kid walked around in a daze. She was zoned out on drugs ninety percent of the time. But what I knew about Tink did nothing to explain Brandi’s connection to the group. The Finches’ activities seemed pretty harmless to me, and after spending time with them, they didn’t strike me as kidnappers.
The Trouble with Witches Page 13
