Witches of Three_Philomena

by Temple Hogan

  Beck’s grin faded.

  “Do you always get rid of the males you sleep with so easily?” he asked somberly. His grip had loosened.

  “Only the four-legged kind,” she said, trying to bring back the lightness between them. When he didn’t respond, she got up and glanced at the hound.

  “Okay, buddy. You get my last steak.” She looked at Beck. “Want some cheesy scrambled eggs?”

  “Sure, if you’re making them,” he said, throwing aside the cover and rising.

  She took the opportunity to admire his naked body, every large part of it. He caught her staring and grinned.

  “Food, woman,” he growled and she, who would have hated such machismo any other time in her life, laughed and headed for the kitchen. The hound loped along behind her.

  She thawed him a steak then dug around in her freezer and found a couple more, which she thawed for Beck and herself. If things went on like this, she’d definitely have to go grocery shopping or create her own stash of steaks. Though they didn’t taste as good as those she got from her grocer. She put the steaks under the broiler and whipped up eggs with cheese and sliced some tomatoes.

  “Umm, smells good,” Beck said, entering the kitchen and sniffing appreciatively.

  “Just in time,” she replied, pouring the coffee. “I’ve made you a meal fit for a king.”

  “He seems to think so, too.” Beck nodded at the hound who was contentedly gnawing on his new bone. “What are you going to do with him?”

  “Take him to the pound.” Phil sat and began cutting her steak. “What good is he to me?”

  “Is that all that counts?” Beck asked, knife and fork suspended while he looked at her.

  Phil put down her utensils and met his gaze. “Why do I get the feeling you’re testing me this morning?”

  He had the grace to drop his gaze and fork another piece of steak into his mouth. “Just trying to get the measure of the woman,” he muttered as he chewed.

  “I thought you’d already done that,” she observed, feeling a hollow place in the vicinity of her heart.

  He seemed to realize he’d hurt her. He put down his fork and focused his attention on her.

  “You’re a complex person…witch…whatever you are, Phil, and I’m afraid that I’m…” He hesitated, damn him.

  She wanted him to say it. She wasn’t hesitating in her own emotions.

  “I love you, too.” She said the words she’d been afraid to say the night before.

  He reached for her hand and squeezed it. His smile was luminous. She had a feeling her own expression was the same.

  “Are you afraid to be in love with a witch?”

  “Whatever you are, I’m not afraid,” he said softly. “I just wasn’t sure how you stood on things.”

  “By this time, I thought I’d made that perfectly clear,” she answered. “You are sure a hard sell, but I forgive you. The question is what are we going to do about our feelings? After all, I’m a witch and not every man could handle being married to one.”

  “Married!” He looked as if she’d slapped him.

  She nodded her head slowly.

  “If you think I’m going to continue giving you fantastic sex and steaks without a commitment on your part, you are sadly mistaken. I’ll need some kind of commitment.”

  “Phil, I’m a man suspected of murder.” She opened her mouth to protest, but he rushed on. “Even if you believe in me, no one else does.”

  “They will when we find out who really killed your wife.”

  “What if that doesn’t happen? Be practical, Phil.”

  “I’m not a practical witch,” she said softly. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t drag home dogs that I’m afraid of.”

  “You’re not afraid of dogs,” Beck said. “You’re afraid they’ll make you love them and they’ll leave you.”

  “Noodle pot, as my aunt used to say. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “That hound over there is totally devoted to you. You saved him from a cruel master and you’ve treated him with dignity, the same way you have me. When do you want to get married?”

  “Immediately,” she cried.

  “Whoa, it will take a few days to get the license, unless you have special powers that can get it waived.”

  “I’ll try,” she said enthusiastically.

  His sparkling gaze met hers. “Let’s take the time like others do. You can get a wedding ready, and I can talk to Emily and her grandmother and prepare them.”

  “You’re right, of course. Emily must be told. I hope she’ll want me as her new mother.”

  “She loves you. You’re all she talks about.”

  “I’ll do my best to be a good mother, although, I fear I won’t be good enough.”

  Beck smiled at her and gripped her hand tighter. “You’ll be the best mother.”

  Phil’s thoughts turned to the wedding preparations. “We’ll get married here and Charlie and Sera will be my bridesmaids. You’ll have to tell me all about your family so we can invite them.”

  “That’s a small list,” Beck said.

  “Good. I want a small, simple wedding,” Phil said.

  The hound leaped to his feet, his bone forgotten. Teeth bared, the ruff on the back of his neck bristling, he bound for the front door. Phil heard a scream and raced after him. Charlie stood pinned in the corner of the front hall.

  “Down,” Phil commanded and immediately the hound backed off, although he remained alert as if his services might be needed again.

  “Ugh, you still have that ugly thing,” Charlie said, shuddering in revulsion.

  “I’m going to keep him,” Phil said and was surprised at her words.

  “Why on earth would you do that? You’re afraid of dogs.”

  “Not anymore.” Before Charlie could open her mouth with another retort, Phil hurried on. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “That’s a switch.” Charlie cracked.

  “I’m getting married!”

  “What? Not to your handyman?”

  “Call him what you will, Charlie, just don’t call him a murderer. You helped me look for evidence to clear him, so I know you believe in him, too.”

  “Yeah, something about that guy makes me believe in him.”

  “Me, too,” Phil said, wrapping her arm around Beck who had just joined them. “I want you and Sera to be my bridesmaids,” she hurried on, eager to deal with the happier aspects of her coming marriage.

  “I get to pick out the bridesmaid’s dresses,” Charlie said instantly. “I refuse to stand up in a ruffled pink or lilac concoction no one in their right mind would wear.”

  “You may have some say as to what they are,” Phil agreed. “I don’t really care what you wear, as long as it’s not too over the top.”

  “Oh my God, this coming from you?” Charlie teased, grinning at Beck.

  “Suddenly, I want to be normal, very normal. I want to outdo you and Sera in my wish to be normal. I want to have a lovely, normal wedding and a wonderful, normal life with my new terribly normal husband and daughter, except Beck isn’t normal and neither is Emily. They’re wonderful and fantastic.”

  “What on earth did you do her?” Charlie asked Beck.

  He gave a big slow grin and pulled Phil into a possessive hug.

  “Whatever she wants is okay by me,” he said. “But between you and me, Charlie, I don’t think anything about our life will be normal.”

  “Are you prepared for that?” Charlie asked, half-serious.

  “I wasn’t prepared for Phil,” he said, his smile fading, “but I’m sure glad I found her.”

  “Uh, you guys, I’m standing right here. I hear everything you’re saying.” Phil twisted out of Beck’s embrace. “I want the wedding to be held in the parlor and the reception will be catered and set up in the dining room. We’re going to keep it very simple and small.”

  Charlie laughed. “Did you forget about Mums?”

  “Oh, yes,” Phil said, chewing
a thumbnail. “Well, I’ll just tell her it has to be my way or I won’t get married. Beck and I will just live in sin. She doesn’t need to know we can’t do that and get custody of Emily.”

  “Dear, sister, I do believe you’re becoming as devious as you’ve accused me of being.”

  “Impossible!” Phil said and drew down her brows, but a smile played at her lips and both sisters ended up laughing.

  Charlie glanced at Beck. “You’d better treat her right,” she said, “or you’ll have me to deal with and I’m the wicked witch of the West.”

  “Then I’ll rely on your sister, Sera to be on my side, but that won’t be necessary.” He smiled at Phil and took her hand, lacing their fingers.

  “Yhew!” Charlie grimaced. “I’m getting out of here before all this snarky stuff rubs off.”

  Beck chuckled deep in his throat. Phil barely paid attention to her sister’s departure as she was thinking how much she loved the sound of Beck’s laughter. She hadn’t heard it much, he was usually so somber, but she made a pact with herself that she’d see that humor was part of his life from now on.

  “So what do you have in mind for the rest of the day?” he asked as the door slammed behind Charlie. “I’d like to finish the barn roofing, but I don’t want you going off on another dangerous mission with your sister.”

  “Obviously, we’re not. She’s already left.” Suddenly, it occurred to her Charlie hadn’t said why she’d stopped by. “I’ll just do some house cleaning and run errands. I want to look for something to wear for my wedding.” She wrapped her arms around him and gave him a hot kiss meant to distract him from worrying about her. She was breathless when they came up for air.

  “Any more of that,” he said gruffly, “and we’ll be back upstairs.”

  “I wouldn’t mind that,” she sighed, then remembered Charlie and straightened. “But I do want the barn and stables ready by the wedding because I want to get Emily a pony, if that’s okay with you.”

  He nodded then hesitated. “When you say get Emily a pony, you are talking about purchasing one, right?”

  “Of course, how else do you get a pony?” she asked innocently.

  “Right,” he said with some sarcasm as he turned toward the door. The hound barked at him and stood up, tail wagging.

  “He might need to go outside for a while,” Phil said, grateful that he appeared to be housebroken.

  “Come on T-bone, out you go.” Beck snapped his finger and the hound loped along after him.

  T-bone? Well that was as good a name as any, Phil thought, given the number of steaks he’d been devouring. She couldn’t keep a grin from her lips. Her life was shaping up so nicely.

  When she was sure Beck was immersed in the roofing and the newly named T-bone was busy casing out the joint, she called Charlie’s cell, but her sister wasn’t answering. Frustrated, Phil hung up and stood tapping her fingers against her teeth. Obviously, Charlie was being secretive about something and Phil’s intuition told her it had to do with Lenny or Joey Strada and Diane’s murder. She’d never been one to spy on her sister, choosing to give Charlie the privacy that Phil wanted for herself, but these were desperate times. Okay, not really, but she felt her intrusion on Charlie was justified. She closed her eyes and called Charlie to mind. Suddenly, her sister appeared in her car, racing down the dusty road to Lenny Barnes’s trailer. Oh, no, she wouldn’t be foolish enough to go there on her own?

  Lenny is dead, she thought and knew it was true. What if his murderer was still there and Charlie went charging in? She had to go help. She grabbed her keys and ran out to the car. There were faster ways to get there, but she might have some real explaining to do. Ever since she was a little girl, her mother had insisted they do nothing to cause suspicion. Now Phil revved her car motor and took off down the long driveway. Immediately, she heard barking. Her rearview window revealed a skinny hound with an obscenely rounded stomach racing after her for all he was worth, ears flopping and tongue lolling. She stopped at the end of the drive, loath to pull out into traffic. What if T-bone followed her and got hit?

  She waited for him, door open and he leaped in, slathering her face with kisses of gratitude.

  “Yes, Yes, I know. I’m a softhearted fool for taking you on. Now sit so I can drive.”

  T-bone did as he was instructed, sitting erect and regal like a favorite pick at a thoroughbred dog show, until she picked up speed. Then he stuck his head out the window and closed his eyes in sublime ecstasy as the wind pinned back his ears.

  Enough with the dog, already, she told herself. She had to help Charlie and she couldn’t do that spending her time on a mangy hound with a surprising degree of loyalty and chutzpa. She raced across town to the road where they’d found Lenny’s trailer. Once she was on the dirt road, she noticed a cloud of dust behind her and just hoped it wasn’t Joey Strada or one of Lenny’s friends.

  As she neared Lenny’s trailer, she saw strobe lights ahead and a number of what looked like police cruisers. Charlie’s car was there, as well, and Phil caught sight of her blonde head among uniformed officers. Quickly, Phil parked and got out. Immediately a uniformed police officer was there.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. You can’t come onto this property. You’ll have to leave.”

  “But my sister is here,” Phil burst out.

  “Do you know the people who live here?” the police officer asked.

  “No, yes. I mean we were acquaintances.”

  “Then you’ll have to leave.” He held out his hands as if to corral her from charging forward.

  “My sister is Charlie!” Phil rose up on her toes and shouted, waving frantically.

  Charlie looked up and started walking toward her. At that moment, a familiar pick-up truck that had been behind her on the road swung into the dirt drive going way too fast and came to a stop mere inches from her car. Beck jumped out and stalked toward her.

  “You promised you wouldn’t go off on any more dangerous outings,” he growled at her, his mouth grim.

  “I couldn’t help it. Charlie needed me.”

  “I needed you?” Charlie had arrived in time to hear her last statement. “What are you doing here, Phil?”

  “I saw you driving down this road and I knew you were coming back to Lenny’s trailer. Knowing how he behaved last night, I didn’t want you to face him alone.”

  “He wouldn’t have hurt me,” Charlie said. “He won’t hurt anyone ever again. He’s dead. Someone sliced him up pretty bad last night.”

  Beck’s grip on her arm tightened and Phil knew he wouldn’t be put off. How to deflect his anger? She felt herself losing it and to her mortification, she keeled over into Beck’s arms.

  Chapter Ten

  Okay, so she wasn’t that mortified. She’d done it on purpose and Charlie seemed to be on to her. Her sister’s expression registered cynicism and absolutely no concern. Not so with Beck. He cradled her in his arms and laid her back on a grassy spot.

  “Phil,” he said urgently, patting her gently on her cheek.

  “That won’t do it,” Charlie said and the next thing Phil felt was a stinging slap.

  “Ow!” she cried, sitting up and rubbing her cheek while she glared at her sister.

  “See, I told you that would work,” Charlie said smugly. Her eyes narrowed into one of her sanctimonious glares she used when she’d bested Phil.

  “Darling, are you all right?” Beck asked, pulling her into his arms and rocking her slightly.

  Phil relaxed against him and made a face at Charlie. After all was said and done, Phil had a man like Beck in her life and poor Charlie had no one.

  At that moment, a tall man in uniform stalked over to them. His hair was black as a raven’s wing and his eyes were frosty blue.

  “Spencer, what the hell are you doing here? I thought this was your day off.”

  Charlie swung around and actually blushed. Charlie? Blushing? Not in this world, except that she was.

  “Hello, Chief.” She tried smiling
, but Phil could see it wasn’t working, so Charlie rushed on. “I…I heard the call and thought I’d drive out and see what’s going on,” she stammered. That was another thing, Charlie never stammered.

  “Who are all these people? “ His gaze settled on Beck. “What do you have to do with this, Beck?”

  “Not a damn thing,” Beck answered in the same hard voice the chief had used.

  “This is my sister and her fiancée, Beck Crawford,” Charlie said in a low voice. “And this is Chief Nicholas Hilliard.

  “I know Crawford,” the chief said. “What I don’t know is why the hell he’s out here. You mind telling me?”

  “I followed Phil out. I was worried about her and about Charlie.”

  “Why would you be worried?” Hilliard asked. His handsome face had settled into stern lines.

  “Let’s just say I’m a worrier,” Beck answered noncommittally.

  “Phil and I drove out here last night,” Charlie said. “We were looking for clues as to who might have killed Diane Crawford.”

  Hilliard’s eyes narrowed as he glanced from one to the other.

  “You know better than that, Spencer. You can’t go off on your own like that. Who knows, maybe you got Barnes killed with your snooping.” His glance at Beck was telling.

  “Where were you last night, Crawford?” he demanded.

  “He was home with me,” Phil said hotly.

  “We already know you weren’t home last night,” Hilliard snapped. “You were right out here.”

  “We didn’t stay long. He had a gun, and he sicced his dog on us.”

  “Would that be the same hound you’ve got cowering in the backseat?”

  “No, that’s…that’s my dog.”

  Hilliard turned his attention to Beck again.

  “Don’t leave town,” he advised.

  “I don’t plan to,” Beck said stonily.

  “As for you, Spencer.” Hilliard turned his attention back to Charlie. “We’re supposed to keep the crime scene uncompromised. We can’t have family reunions whenever we fancy. Now get rid of them and get your fanny out of here. You’re off duty.”