Parents and Poisonings: Supernatural Witch Cozy Mystery (Lainswich Witches Book 6)

by Raven Snow

  Willow nodded, and both sisters headed off into the living room while Rowen went up the stairs. She ran into Aunt Lydia on the landing outside of Rose’s room. She seemed to be pacing and fretting just a bit, but her face lit up when she saw Rowen. “Oh, thank goodness,” she said, putting a hand on her niece’s shoulder and giving her a nudge toward the door. “She keeps saying she just wants to be alone, but I know something is wrong. I can tell. A mother can just tell with things like these.”

  “Did she ask for me?” asked Rowen, suddenly getting the impression that Rose really did want to be left alone right now and intruding would just be hassling her unnecessarily.

  “She mentioned you,” said Lydia. “She mentioned that she needed to talk to you. She didn’t ask us to call you, exactly. I think she was working her way around to calling you herself, but she just hadn’t gotten around to it.”

  Rowen sighed but went to the door and knocked. “I’m fine!” Rose called, likely thinking it was her mother. “Just give me some privacy, will you?” Lydia was right, her voice did sound a bit strained. There was something a bit stilted about the way she was speaking.

  “It’s Rowen!” Rowen called back to her. “Can I come in?”

  There was silence on the other side of the door. After a moment, it opened. Rowen entered, leaving her aunt on the landing as Rose closed the door behind her. Rose definitely looked like she was upset. She was still in her pajamas, but she had jeans and a t-shirt laid out on her bed, like maybe she was thinking of going somewhere. Her cell phone was clutched in her hand.

  “Okay, what’s wrong?” asked Rowen.

  “Trish,” said Rose, sinking down to sit on the edge of her mattress.

  Rowen winced. “I know,” she said. “That’s really horrible. Is Ben holding up all right?”

  “He called me,” said Rose. “I couldn’t really talk. I didn’t know what to tell him.”

  Rowen frowned at that. “You know this isn’t your fault, right?” Rowen was still trying to convince herself of that. She felt like Rose had done all she could, but had Rowen? It seemed like there was a lot she could have said. There were things she could have done when she last saw Trish that might have kept this from happening.

  “It’s not that,” said Rose. She looked down at the phone in her hands. She looked torn, like she wasn’t sure what to say next.

  “What?” asked Rowen. There was, obviously, something else going on here. “What is it?”

  Rose opened her mouth like she was about to explain. Instead, she shook her head. “It’s easier if I just show you.” She raised her phone, pressed some buttons, and handed it over.

  Rowen raised the phone to her ear and listened. She heard the automated voicemail voice. “You have one saved message,” it said. What followed were a lot of sounds Rowen couldn’t really place. It sounded like a lot of bumping around and a lot of grunting. Something shattered, and someone screamed, “Anita!” It sounded like Trish. There was a loud thud and then a crash. There were some other sounds after that, all of them a bit difficult to place. Eventually, the voicemail cut out.

  Rowen lowered the phone from her ear, looking down at it. Finally, she handed it back to Rose. “Can I hear that again?” she asked, unwilling to trust what she had just heard. She wasn’t about to make any snap judgments.

  “I must have listened to it a hundred times,” Rose said. Still, she reached over and pressed the button that replayed the message.

  Rowen listened to it again, and then a third time. It definitely sounded like a struggle with Trish and…Anita? “When did you get this?” she asked.

  “It came in a few hours ago. I was charging my phone, so I didn’t get it until…I don’t know. About an hour after it had been sent, I guess.”

  “And what do you think?” asked Rowen, afraid to voice her own opinions before she heard Rose’s.

  “I’ve listened to it over and over,” said Rose. “I keep coming to the same conclusion—Trish didn’t kill herself. She was murdered.”

  “Who do you think did it?” asked Rowen, even though she had a feeling she knew what Rose was going to say.

  “Anita, right? Ben’s mom. Her own sister.” Rose pointed to the phone. “You heard her yell her name. There was a struggle. I’m not sure what the crime scene looks like, but I’m betting there was a struggle. Ben said she hanged herself. What if Mrs. Williamson knocked her out, and then set it up to look like a hanging?”

  “We have to tell Ben,” said Rowen.

  Rose nodded. “I know.” She took a deep breath. “That’s what I’m so torn over. I shouldn’t be, though. Right? Last time, I wanted to go ahead and call the cops. This, though…this feels…different. That’s hypocritical of me, isn’t it?”

  “You care about him.”

  “We’re on a break,” Rose muttered.

  “You still care about him,” Rowen insisted. “Heck, even I still care about him enough to know we should give him a call about this.” She sat down beside Rose on the mattress. “I’ll do it, if you want.”

  Rose shook her head. “It should be me,” she said.

  “What are you going to say?”

  “I’ll tell him to come here,” said Rose with a shrug. “I’d go to him, but…I don’t know how he’s going to react. I don’t want him making a scene in front of his men and…ugh, someone like Julia Martinez. He’d never live that down. I really don’t want to tell him over the phone either.”

  Rowen nodded. “Sounds like a plan,” she said. She watched Rose for several more long seconds before giving her a nudge. “You should probably get on that.”

  “Right.” Rose heaved a sigh and raised her phone. She dialed and brought it to her ear. “Hey…Yeah, I’m sorry. I know you’re busy. It’s important, actually…We need to talk…No, now.” Rose assumed a very serious voice to drive the point home. “It’s important. Really, really important. It’s about Trish. Rowen is here, too. I’ve got something to show you, and I’d rather not discuss it over the phone.” She was silent for a while after that, just listening. “Okay,” she said and hung up.

  “Well?”

  “He’s on his way. He’s with his family. They’re all really upset, but I think he got the message. He’ll step away from them for a few.”

  There was a knock on the door. “Well, that was quick,” Rowen quipped. She got to her feet and went to the door opening it a crack.

  “Think I can get in on whatever secretive nonsense is going on in here?” asked Eric. “I’m losing my mind just waiting around out there.”

  Rowen glanced back to Rose. She shrugged. “Go ahead. No one else, though.” Rowen opened the door the rest of the way, letting her husband in. They brought him up to speed and let him listen to the voicemail. To say things were tense by the time Ben showed up would be an understatement.

  Ben entered the room still dressed in a button-up work shirt and slacks. His hair was disheveled, and there were dark circles under his eyes. He looked nervous now, looking back at Rowen, Eric, and Rose all staring at him.

  “Ben,” said Rose, standing up from the bed. “I… uh…”

  “Just let him listen to it,” said Rowen. There was no way to make any of this easier. She might as well just get it over with. Let him see what they were talking about for himself before anyone built it up.

  Rose nodded. She dialed her voicemail and handed the phone to Ben.

  Ben brought the phone to his ear. He listened. Gradually, his expression darkened. He took a few steps to the bed and sank down onto it. He listened again and then a third time before sitting the phone aside. “Wow,” was all he managed. “I…That sounds bad.”

  Rose sat down beside Ben. She put a hand on his shoulder, moving a bit hesitantly like she wasn’t sure if that was the right move or not. “I’m sorry.”

  “How did she even have your number?” asked Ben.

  “The article we did on Willard,” said Rowen. “She had all our numbers. Well, mine and Rose’s. We did some fact-checking after
the interview itself.”

  “She must have accidentally dialed my number,” said Rose with a shrug.

  Ben shook his head, slowly and looked at the phone again. “My mother didn’t do this,” he said. “I know what it sounds like,” he added, quickly, when everyone shot him looks. “But she couldn’t have done this.”

  “Was there a struggle at her house?” asked Eric, speaking carefully. He kept some distance between them, his arms folded over his chest.

  Ben nodded. “My mother was the one who found the body,” he explained. “She was out taking a walk. When she got back, Trish had already…” He gave a sigh. “She called me immediately. I sent men down there. There were things broken in the house, but I chalked that up to Trish trashing the place. She never did like my mother. That much seems pretty well-established.”

  “But it could have been a struggle between two people?” Rowen asked.

  Ben didn’t hesitate, nodding right away in response. “After hearing that voicemail, it certainly does suggest there was a struggle.” He pulled his own phone from his pocket. “I’ve got to make some calls.”

  “I’m really sorry,” said Rose.

  Ben glanced over at Rose as he dialed. He didn’t say aloud that he doubted her, but it was written on his face. As much as Rose openly disliked his mother, he didn’t seem to believe she wasn’t taking some sort of sick satisfaction from all this.

  Rose didn’t say anything. That was probably her best option right now. Let Ben do whatever it was he needed to do. Rose went to go stand with Rowen as he made his phone calls. “So, what now?” she asked, sounding absolutely crestfallen.

  Rowen gave her cousin what she hoped was a reassuring pat on the back. “Now, we wait.” There wasn’t much else they could do.

  “I have a feeling you two are in for a pretty long night,” said Eric. “They’re going to have some questions.”

  As it turned out, the police didn’t have too many questions. They took statements from Rowen and Rose about their encounter with Trish that morning. They took Rose’s phone in as evidence, even though she probably could have given them her voicemail information so that they could access it remotely.

  The only real problem was that, for a while there, Julia Martinez’s van was on the Greensmith’s front lawn. Fortunately, they didn’t even have to talk with her. The police ran her off, assisted by Aunt Lydia.

  “You’re free to write about this,” said Ben, joining Rowen on the front porch. Together, they watched Julia Martinez making a fuss about being forced to pack up and leave. “I’m not going to ask you to keep this under wraps this time. I’m sorry I did the first time.”

  “Are you sure?” Rowen asked.

  Ben nodded. “I mean, Julia Martinez already has the story, right? This is going to be a big mess either way. At least I know you aren’t going to sensationalize anything.”

  “I appreciate that,” said Rowen. She really did. That kind of vote of confidence from Ben meant something. “And what about the story you didn’t want us to tell?”

  Ben shrugged. “Oh, tell it too. Why not, at this point?”

  This still didn’t feel quite right to Rowen. “Do you have anything you want me to quote you on?” she asked.

  “This sucks,” Ben said, plainly. “You can quote me on that.”

  “I’m not sure I’m going to take you up on that,” said Rowen, feeling a weary smirk tug at her lips. “You know this isn’t your fault, right?” It felt like she had been saying a lot of that tonight. “I mean, in a broad sense. All of this. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Technically,” said Ben. “Technically, I didn’t do anything wrong. It feels like I didn’t do a whole lot right either. There’s a lot I probably should have done differently.”

  “Well, hindsight is twenty-twenty,” Rowen offered. It was pretty generic advice. She really wasn’t sure what to say to him.

  Ben didn’t seem to take a whole lot of comfort in her words. No surprise there. “It feels like I abused my position. I did abuse my position.”

  “Barely,” said Rowen. “Just a little abuse. That’s not so bad.”

  Ben looked at her and raised an eyebrow. “Any abuse is bad, Rowen.”

  Rowen couldn’t argue with him there. “I would have done the same if it meant protecting my family.”

  “Rose didn’t think it was right.”

  “Yeah, but she still called you first when it came down to it,” Rowen pointed out. “She wasn’t going to call the police before she let you know what was going on.”

  “I’m not sure that’s the same. If it had come down to it, she wouldn’t have let me sweep any of this under the rug.” Ben frowned out at the policemen speaking to one another on the lawn. There was only one car here. There were probably more wherever Mrs. Williamson was—or maybe those had already come and gone, seeing as Julia Martinez herself had been here. “I should have listened to Rose,” Ben concluded.

  “You should probably tell her that,” said Rowen, looking over her shoulder for Rose. She saw her through the window, standing in the hallway, talking to Eric.

  “Maybe later,” Ben said, beginning down the steps. “For now, I should really be going to check on my mom.”

  “For the record, I still don’t think she did it,” Rowen offered. She hadn’t thought it was Mrs. Williamson from the beginning, and she was sticking by her guns.

  “Either way, it looks bad.” Ben continued down the front steps and to his car, and Rowen headed inside.

  Rose looked up. She frowned when she saw it was only Rowen. “Did Ben already leave?” she asked.

  Rowen could tell that him leaving without saying anything stung her a little. “I don’t think it’s anything personal,” Rowen told her, even though it was almost certainly personal. “He’s just going through a lot right now, I think.”

  “That’s probably putting it lightly,” said Eric. “Did they arrest his mother?”

  “I didn’t ask,” Rowen answered. “But I don’t see how they could not take her into custody given that voicemail. If they haven’t already, they probably will soon.”

  “I didn’t want this,” Rose insisted. “I know I don’t like Ben’s mother—and I really don’t…Actually, I guess I’m fine with it if she turns out to be the murderer. I just don’t want that to be the case because Ben will be upset. Do you think this is something he’ll get over?”

  “I think this one might take some time to move past,” said Eric, shooting Rose a rather judgmental look.

  “What?” Rose frowned at both Eric and Rowen. “I can’t help how I feel. I feel really bad for Trish. Sorry if I can’t muster up the energy to be mad at the woman who made her life that miserable.”

  “She isn’t some cartoon villain,” Rowen said. She never would have thought she would be saying anything in Mrs. Williamson’s defense, yet here she was. “She was just a teenager when all of this was set into motion, and you can’t blame her for not wanting to adopt a couple of kids at eighteen. She might be outwardly unpleasant, but I’m sure she has a lot of regrets. I’m sure that’s part of what shaped her into the horrible person she is today.”

  “Listen to you defending her,” Rose grumbled. “Trish is probably rolling over in her grave…Or body bag, I guess. It’s too soon for graves.”

  “That’s it!” Rowen exclaimed.

  “What?” asked Rose, startled. “What’s it?”

  “When Willard died and we went out to her house for the interview, she had us do a séance,” said Rowen. “Well, we used a Ouija board, but that was just for her benefit. Either way, Willard was receptive to it. He was pretty quick to answer, all things considered.”

  “You think we should do a séance?” asked Rose, sounding skeptical. After all, it was a bit rude to immediately try and contact someone who had only just died.

  “I do,” said Rowen. “And I think we should do one fast. If she’s been reunited with her brother, they could have moved on already.”

  “S
hould I get a Ouija board?” asked Eric. “I assume there are at least a dozen or so in this house.”

  “At least,” said Rowen. “But, no. This time, I say we do a good old fashioned séance.” It had been a while since they had gotten answers from one of those, but this time, Rowen had a sneaking suspicion they were going to get a response.

  Chapter Twelve

  Rowen didn’t invite the rest of her family to the séance. She hoped Eric and Rose alone would suffice. She really didn’t want to involve the rest of them in this drama. They would only make a huge deal out of it. She would be answering questions for, at least, another hour. If she needed them, she would get them. Something told her Trish was going to be ready and willing to talk though.