Waterside Witchery

by Raven Snow

  Eric winced. “You sure you wouldn’t rather drive out to Tarricville and stay there for a few nights?”

  “Eric!” Rowen chided. “You like my family, don’t you? This isn’t a big deal. It shouldn’t be anyway.”

  Eric sighed. “Fine. Give them a call and see if it’s all right.”

  ***

  Rowen sat down in the grass with Chester, trying to pretend the stings on her arms weren’t as excruciating as they were. It hurt terribly. She was a bit of a wuss when it came to that sort of pain. She didn’t know how Eric managed to be so calm about it. He was looking down at his phone, flipping through something or another. She hoped it was a list of pest control people.

  Rowen called her aunts. Lydia picked up on the second ring. “Hello?”

  “Hey, Aunt Lydia. It’s me.”

  “Rowen! What a surprise. What are you doing calling at this hour?” Lydia didn’t sound as happy to hear from her as she normally was. That was unusual.

  “It’s kind of a long story.” Rowen reconsidered that. It wasn’t really. “Eric was doing home repair and managed to set free a whole swarm of wasps that were living in our walls.”

  “Oh dear.”

  “Yeah, we can’t really go back in there.” Maybe if they closed off all the rooms and slept downstairs it would be fine. She didn’t really want to risk it, though. She didn’t want to get stung again. “I was wondering if, maybe, we could stay at your place until our home is fumigated?”

  Aunt Lydia actually hesitated. “Of course you can,” she said after a moment.

  “Are you sure?” Rowen asked. “I don’t want to put you out or anything.” She wasn’t sure who else she would call. None of her cousins stayed in very big places. She could always try Rose, she supposed.

  “It’s fine,” Aunt Lydia assured her. “It’s just that we have company right now.”

  “Company?” Rowen repeated.

  “Reginald and Peter,” Lydia explained. “They surprised us by showing up early.”

  “If there’s not room for us-”

  “It’s fine,” Lydia insisted. “Come on down. You can stay in the attic room again. No one is up there.”

  Rowen thanked her aunt and hung up the phone. She looked to Eric who had already pocketed his cell. “It’s fine. Reginald and Peter are staying there, though.”

  Eric nodded. “I left a message with a pest control place. I told them to call us as soon as they got it.”

  “Good,” said Rowen, even though there wasn’t anything good about this.

  ***

  Rowen, Eric, and Chester all showed up on the front door of the Greensmith house about fifteen minutes later. It was Lydia who came to let them in. “I forgot to mention Chester on the phone,” said Rowen, glancing down at the old dog. “I hope it’s okay if he stays.”

  “Of course!” Aunt Lydia knelt down and scratched Chester behind his ears. “He’s such a sweetie.”

  “We really appreciate this,” said Eric as they all headed inside.

  “You’re family.” Lydia waved a dismissive hand, like it need not even be brought up. She led the way to the den where Nadine was sitting with Peter and Reginald. The men stood when they saw guests.

  “Nice to see you again,” said one of the brothers. Rowen couldn’t tell them apart well enough to guess which one. They both had the same short stature and graying hair.

  “Same.” Rowen went over and shook their hands. It seemed like the right thing to do. “How have things been going for you guys?”

  “Busy,” said one of the men.

  “Glad to be here,” said the other. “It’s so relaxing here. We love it.”

  Rowen nodded. “Glad to hear it. Well, we’ll stay out of your way.”

  “You’re welcome to stay down here,” offered Nadine.

  “We’re tired,” said Rowen. That wasn’t completely untrue. She wasn’t quite ready to go to bed, but she wasn’t awake enough to try and carry on conversation with relative strangers either.

  “Well, sleep well then.” Lydia gave Rowen a kiss on the cheek and a hug before going back to sit down in the den. Rowen climbed the stairs, up to her old bedroom.

  ***

  Rowen and Eric didn’t stay up much longer after that. They both crashed on the bed in the clothes they had worn to the house. There weren’t any others for them to change into. Those were all back home.

  It was the middle of the night when Chester woke Rowen up. He pawed at her arm again and again until she opened her eyes. Rowen groaned but swung her legs out of bed. This was what he did every time he wanted to be taken outside. It wasn’t like she could just roll over and go back to sleep. He was trying to be a good boy.

  “Come on,” Rowen whispered so as not to wake her husband. She led Chester downstairs to the ground floor. She was taking him toward the back door when she heard an odd sound. She stopped and strained her ears, trying to place it.

  It was a giggle, Rowen realized. “Stop,” someone said, playfully. This was followed by a moan.

  Rowen cringed and covered her ears with her hands before hurrying out the back. That sound was going to be stuck in her head forever. Knowing her aunts had sex lives was one thing. Actually hearing them? Rowen covered her ears on the way back up the stairs for good measure.

  “You all right?” Eric asked, drowsily, looking up when his wife and Chester reentered the room.

  “No,” said Rowen. “I’m pretty sure I just heard something I can’t unhear.”

  “What?”

  “You don’t want to know and I don’t want to repeat it. Let’s just try to get out of here as soon as possible, okay?”

  Chapter Four

  Rowen woke up to someone knocking on the door. Eric rolled over and put a pillow over his face. Even Chester gave a snort without lifting his head, like he was annoyed. Rowen knew from experience that whoever was knocking wouldn’t give up until she answered. “What?!” she yelled.

  “Breakfast is ready!” Peony shouted back. “They told me to come and tell you.”

  Rowen wasn’t sure she was up for breakfast. Breakfast was a meal she had, maybe, once or twice a week. Besides, she wasn’t sure she could eat sitting across from her aunts and their boyfriends. That was immature of her, she knew. It was silly to get so worked up about a parental figure in your life having and enjoying sex. Still, the sound and a composite image of the act were still burned into her mind.

  “I’ll be right down!” Rowen yelled back. She sat up in bed, nudging her husband with her elbow as she did so. “Come on. It’s time for breakfast.”

  As a private investigator, Eric made his own hours. He wasn’t used to following the schedule of others. To his credit, he did get out of bed. Even Chester got up once he saw that the rest of his family was going somewhere.

  ***

  The smell of breakfast hit Rowen on her way down the stairs. She suddenly remembered how much she missed it. She loved living with Eric, but there was something comforting about the smells of her old home. Eggs, bacon, sausage. She could pick out each distinct smell. Her mouth began to water in response to it.

  “Good morning, Sleepyhead.” Aunt Nadine smiled at Rowen. Everyone was already seated at the table, though no one was eating yet.

  “I put some food in that bowl over there for Chester,” said Aunt Lydia.

  Chester was already on his way to said food. Rowen was sure it was people food. It wasn’t like they had a dog here. She just hoped it didn’t upset his stomach. Rowen took a seat beside Peony and reached for the plate of bacon.

  “Not yet,” Lydia snapped. “We’re not all seated yet.”

  Rowen looked around the table. What was she talking about? Her aunts, Norman, Peony, Reginald and Peter (which ever one was which) were all here. “Who else is coming to breakfast?”

  As if on cue, Rowen heard the front door open. A few seconds later, Margo wandered into the dining room. She was wearing a pair of baggy pajamas that were at least two sizes too large for her. Her hair
was a frizzy mess. She yawned and sank down into a free chair beside her dad. She was sleepily reaching for some sausage before she noticed there were two new additions to the table. “What are you doing here?”

  “I could ask the same thing.” The last thing Rowen had known about Margo’s living situation was that she had moved into an apartment with Jasper Stonewall. The Stonewall family had hated it. They were a family of witches that didn’t always get along with the Greensmiths. They’d had their ups and downs with each other over the years. Even so, they hadn’t liked it when their son moved out of the family home with a Greensmith. He was plenty old enough to be striking out on his own. If they had their way, he’d be studying their magical traditions under them until they both passed on and he inherited the Stonewall household.

  "Lover’s spat,” said Margo in way of explanation, like that was all there was to say about that.

  “She thinks Jasper is a mommy and a daddy’s boy,” Peony explained. “Which, I mean, he is.”

  Margo shot her cousin a dirty look. She clearly hadn’t wanted to say that much on the matter, not over breakfast anyway. “Not that it’s anyone’s business, but yes. What Peony said.”

  Rowen could imagine that being a problem. The Stonewall’s eldest son was living in the city working as a lawyer. Their daughter was still in quite a bit of legal trouble after aiding and abetting a murderer. They had already been overprotective about their son. It stood to reason that they would have seriously hooked their claws into him now. “Sorry to hear that,” said Rowen. She was largely indifferent about Margo’s love life ever since her cousin had cheated on Eric’s brother with Jasper. She was pretty much the Greensmith family’s own personal soap opera.

  “All right, everyone. Dig in,” Aunt Lydia announced. Plates were promptly passed around. Everyone made small talk. Reginald and Peter lavished a whole bunch of praise on the food, like it was the best thing they had ever eaten in their lives. Rowen thought they were laying it on a little thick, but Lydia and Nadine were clearly loving it. Rowen just added her own praise and thanks on top of theirs.

  It really was a good meal. Rowen had cleaned her plate and was weighing the pros and cons of going for seconds when her phone rang. It was on the table beside her coffee. ‘Ben,’ said the caller ID. “I should take this.” Rowen picked up the phone and walked out into the hallway. “Hey. What’s up?”

  “I need you to come down to the station. Bring your husband.” Ben didn’t beat around the bush. He rarely did. He was a very serious kind of guy. It served him well in his line of work.

  “Is this for the press release?” Rowen wasn’t used to getting calls from him for that. Usually, he reached out to her the way he did to all other press sources in Lainswich- via e-mail and secretary. “What time is it? Does Rose know? I guess I can meet her there.”

  “This isn’t about a press release,” said Ben. “This is… something else. Please stop by the station at your earliest convenience. Bring Eric. I need you both there in a private investigator capacity.”

  Now that got Rowen’s attention. Ben didn’t need Rowen for the paper she ran with her cousins; he needed her for the private investigating she did with her husband. “I’ll let him know,” she assured him.

  “Thanks. I appreciate it.” With that, Ben hung up.

  Rowen went back to the dining room. “Hey, Eric. As soon as you’re finished, we should probably get dressed and head out.”

  “Hmm?” Eric regarded her over the rim of his glass of juice. “Why?” he asked, sitting it back down on the table.

  “Ben wants us to come down to the station.”

  “Us?” Eric repeated. “As in just you and me or me, you, and your cousins?”

  “You and me.”

  Everyone else at the table exchanged looks. “Is this about that body you found?”

  Rowen shrugged. “I’m sure it has something to do with it. I’m not sure what.”

  “Well, keep us updated.” Lydia said that calmly, like she was only partly interested. Rowen knew better. She knew that her aunt was a gossip hound.

  ***

  After breakfast, Rowen and Eric headed out to the car. “I got a call from the exterminator while you were in the upstairs bathroom,” Eric said conversationally as they drove. “I’ll have to meet with them to give them the key, but they can get started tomorrow.”

  “Good.” Rowen was genuinely glad to hear that. After what she had heard last night, she didn’t want to spend much longer in the Greensmith house— not while Reginald and Peter were visiting anyway. “Did they say how long it would take?”

  “I couldn’t get them to get me an exact date. They’re the only exterminators in town, though. I’m afraid we can’t really shop around for someone to do it faster.”

  Rowen sighed. “Fair enough.”

  ***

  Thankfully, Channel 2 wasn’t camped outside of the police station. Rowen had been a little afraid that they would be loitering around that area, trying to press law enforcement for answers. If they had somehow caught wind that Rowen was on her way there, they would have surely followed. That wasn’t the case, though, and Rowen headed inside with her husband.

  “You must be the couple Ben told me to watch out for,” said a bubbly blond receptionist. She was, no doubt, Karen’s replacement. The last receptionist for the police station had been arrested on accidental homicide and obstruction of justice charges. Rowen and her family had helped make the case against her. At least it seemed like this new receptionist held no grudge about that. She picked up her phone and let Ben know they were there. Within a matter of minutes, he was there to meet them at the front desk.

  “Come on,” said Ben. “I don’t have a whole lot of time for this, and there’s a lot we need to cover.” He led the way into his cramped office. Every other time Rowen had been in there she was always struck by how cluttered it was. Manila folders and correlated printouts were piled high on every surface. Ben had to move a couple of stacks so that they could both sit down across from him. “So we’re finished with the autopsy,” Ben began when they were both seated on opposite sides of the desk. “It was difficult to get an ID, but we were able to match dental records. The murder victim is a man named Timothy Lucas.”

  Rowen didn’t recognize the name. Lainswich was small so usually the last name sounded familiar to her at the very least. This one she couldn’t place. “Is he from Lainswich?”

  Ben nodded. “He lived on the outskirts, but yes. Lichen Hallow.”

  Now that was something Rowen had heard of. Namely, she had heard her aunts tell her not to go there as a girl. They were still pretty backwards out there, they’d said. They would still hang witches if they thought they could get by with it. That had frightened Rowen as a child. She knew better now. Maybe there were some intolerant folks up that way, but it was doubtful they were still conducting witch hunts. “Does he have any family?”

  Again, Ben nodded. “He does, and that’s the odd thing. By all accounts, he’s still alive.”

  “Does that mean the dental records are wrong?” asked Eric.

  “We don’t think so,” said Ben. “He’s survived by his wife, Edith. We broke the news to her, and she seemed rather distraught about it. To hear her tell it, he went on a fishing trip a while back and never came home.”

  “She didn’t file a missing person’s report?” asked Rowen.

  Ben shook his head. “She said he packed a bag. Said he goes on these fishing trips a lot, likes the solitude of going on them alone. If she’d known something was wrong, she would have contacted the police. At least, that was what she told us.”

  “Is she a suspect?” asked Eric.

  “Everyone’s a suspect until we have more information,” said Ben.

  “What was the cause of death?” asked Rowen. She had been thinking about that for a while now. “Were you able to figure that out?”

  “It’s hard to say with the body in the state it’s in,” Ben said with a sigh. “It’s waterlo
gged and burnt to a crisp. We have our best people working on it, but we obviously just don’t have the resources bigger towns do. Whatever happened to the body, our working theory is that he may have been burned after the fact. Maybe someone was trying to get rid of the body, realized its harder to completely incinerate a person than they’d thought, then decided to dump it in the nearest lake. Of course, that’s just one of several theories.”

  “So, what do you need us for?” asked Rowen.

  “I want to hire you. That is, we do. The police station, as a whole, wants a private investigator on this to do some of the things we can’t.”

  Rowen didn’t doubt that the police wanted a private investigator. What she did have a hard time believing was that they wanted those investigators to be a couple of Greensmiths.

  “What do you need us to do?” Eric didn’t hesitate to jump on board. Bless his heart, this was the sort of opportunity he couldn’t resist. Most of the time, he got saddled with boring old cases like affairs or shoplifting matters.

  “Just keep an eye on the wife. I want someone to stake that area out while we’re putting together evidence.”

  “Just the wife?” asked Eric.

  “If you get any hunches or gut feelings about leads, follow them.” Ben looked to Rowen at this part. She was the one who usually got the gut feelings after all. “Just don’t get into trouble. And know, that if you do get into trouble, we aren’t going to be there to bail you out.”

  “Fair enough,” said Eric. Rowen could tell by his voice that he was excited. She was a bit excited herself. It wasn’t often that she got a case to work with her husband. “Are there any other suspects or people in the wife’s life that we should be made aware of?”