by Raven Snow
Rowen considered not answering. She wasn’t in the mood to go and work at the Lainswich Inquirer right now. In the end, she decided that that wasn’t fair. “What’s up?” she asked after bringing the phone to her ear.
“My entire staff bailed on me,” said Rose.
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“I mean what I said. Everyone bailed on me. They left. They all went back to the house for that intervention Margo was going on about.” On the other end of the line, Rose groaned. “I’m pretty sure Willow and Peony just left because they wanted to get out of working. Either way, I was wondering where you were.”
“We’re heading back into town now, why?”
“Do you think you could either come and help me or herd everyone back here? Maybe both, if you’re up for it.” Rose sounded so hopeful, it was hard to deny her.
“I’ll go have a word with them,” Rowen promised.
“Thanks. I really appreciate it.” Rose hung up.
“What was that about?” asked Eric.
“Rose says that everyone ditched her. Apparently, they’re all at my aunts’ house staging that intervention Margo was talking about.”
Eric groaned. “I take it we’re headed straight there to intervene then, huh?”
“Either intervene or help out.” Rowen hadn’t decided which. She was feeling a bit compelled to do both, honestly.
“Come on, give your aunts a break.”
“Fiiine. Just get me there.”
***
It didn’t take long for them to reach the Greensmith house. Sure enough, her cousins’ cars were all parked in the front lawn. Eric parked alongside one of them and Rowen got out. Together, they walked up to the front door and let themselves in. Rowen hadn’t made it past the entrance before she heard Margo.
“This is such a bad idea. Deep down, you all have to know this is a bad idea. We love you guys. We wouldn’t be doing this if we didn’t love you, right Dad?”
“You leave me out of this,” said Norman. “I’m not getting involved.”
“Dad,” Margo whined.
“This is all you and your cousins. I’ve decided I don’t care either way. Neither should you. This will all just solve itself. It always does.”
“He has a point there,” Rowen muttered to Eric as they approached. Relationships with Greensmiths did have that funny way of ending poorly all on their own. “Mind if I butt in?” Rowen asked, coming around the corner and into the den where everyone was situated.
Reginald and Peter were sitting stiffly by the sides of Lydia and Nadine, respectively. Nadine was frowning intensely. Lydia just looked bored. Peony, Willow, and Norman were all seated as well. Margo was the only one standing. She looked to be too full of righteous indignation to sit down. She did however look back when she noticed that Rowen and Eric had shown up. “Good. Reinforcements.” She waved a hand in Rowen’s direction. “See? They’re worried about you, too.”
“Actually, we’re here because Rose sent me. She needs help back at the paper, and you all ditched her. Also, I’m pretty sure Eric was always against this intervention thing.”
“I was.”
“See? There you go.”
Margo threw up her hands in exasperation. “Isn’t anyone going to use common sense here?”
“We support you,” offered Willow, indicating her sister and herself.
“Really? You’re not acting like it.” If Margo had thought Willow and Peony would be a big help here she had been sorely mistaken. They might be good at sweet talking people, but they weren’t exactly confrontational. That just wasn’t their style.
Rowen decided to not openly take sides just yet. “If you’ve already said all you have to say, do you think you could go help Rose? She seriously needs it.”
“Someone has to talk these two out of making the worst decisions of their lives,” Margo insisted, not backing down.
“Don’t be so overdramatic.” Rowen knew that was a lot to ask of someone in her family, but she had to try. “It won’t be the worst decision of their lives. Even if it goes poorly, it probably won’t even be in the top ten.” Rowen couldn’t believe she was defending her aunts in this. Really, she wanted to change their minds as much as Margo did. Eric was right, though. As much as she hated to admit it, it wasn’t her place to dictate her aunts’ lives.
“Thank you, Sweetheart,” said Aunt Lydia, smiling at Rowen.
Margo looked back to Willow and Peony as if hoping they might have something to add. Willow, in turn, looked from her sister to Margo. She just shrugged. “What? I agree it’s a bad idea. I’m just not sure what else to add.”
“Fine.” Margo threw her hands up again. “I give up.” She headed for the door. It was unclear whether she was actually going back to the Inquirer or not. Both Willow and Peony got up to hurry out after her, though.
“Tell Rose I’ll be there in a bit,” Rowen called after them, hoping they were doing as she’d asked them to.
“Well, that was fun.” Norman stood now that the “intervention” had ended. “I’m gonna go take a nap,” he announced before leaving the room.
“I don’t suppose Margo managed to change your minds at all?” asked Rowen.
Lydia’s smile fell. “No,” she said, flatly. “She didn’t.”
Reginald cleared his throat, getting everyone’s attention. “If no one here objects, could I have a word in private with Rowen here?” He stood. “We’ll just step out back.”
“Of course I don’t mind,” said Lydia.
Rowen shrugged. “It’s fine by me.” She glanced at her husband who nodded.
“Go on,” said Eric. “I’ll just… visit with your aunts.”
Reginald led the way out the back and into the herb garden. He stood there in silence, looking at the progress of the herbs for a minute or so. “These are coming along very nicely.”
“I helped this year. The whole family did,” said Rowen. “My aunts have never had much of a green thumb.”
Reginald nodded and turned back to her. “I take it that your family is very close.”
“Pretty close,” Rowen agreed. It hadn’t always been that way. Rowen had moved away from Lainswich when she was young. She hadn’t moved back here all that long ago. Of course, ever since she had, family had been a major part of her day to day life. Her mother wasn’t around much, but the presence of her aunts, uncle and cousins more than made up for that most days.
Reginald nodded, acknowledging that. “I was never very close to my own family— aside from my brother, obviously. The two of us have always been close. The rest of the family? Not so much.”
“Sorry?” Rowen ventured. She wasn’t sure what he was expecting her to say. Whether or not he got along with his family wasn’t her business.
“I really like the family life your aunts have going here. It’s… nice. It’s quaint. This whole town is kind of quaint in its own way. I like it here. I like your Aunt Lydia.”
“You proposed to her,” Rowen pointed out. “I’d hope that you more than just liked her.”
That got a laugh from Reginald. “Fine, I love her. I think she’s a magnificent and unique woman.”
“You sure you aren’t just drawn to her because of how involved she is in the occult?” Rowen knew that the Powers brothers were really into that sort of thing. Normally, she wouldn’t judge a person for that sort of thing. It had only made her raise an eyebrow now that they were trying to marry into the family.
“I’m sure that has something to do with it,” Reginald admitted. “But I think that’s the case for anyone, isn’t it? There’s always something that initially draws you to a person. Couples generally have common interests, do they not? You and your husband, for instance. The two of you seem to enjoy solving murders.”
“I’d like to think that’s a little more serious than a mutual hobby, but I get your point. Have you ever been married before?”
Reginald shook his head. “Neither my brother nor I have ever had the pleas
ure. We’ve always led busy lives. We worked a lot, traveled a great deal. Now that we’re getting older, the both of us want to settle down. It’s about time we retired, and Lainswich seems like a nice place to do it in.”
“I guess it definitely is if you like the occult. Why rush into a relationship with my aunts, though? If you’re planning on moving here, the whole thing could stand to go a little slower, couldn’t it?”
“We’re not retiring all at once,” Reginald clarified. “It’ll have to happen over the course of a year while we get loose ends tied up. I’m sure you went through that sort of thing with your own husband.”
Rowen had. “I guess,” she said.
“Well, I know how desirable your Aunt Lydia is. From the sound of it, there’s plenty of men in this town that would give anything to be with her. I want to make it clear that I’m interested in more than just a fling. I want her to wait for me until I get back.”
As weird as it felt to admit, Lydia did seem to have a way with men. For whatever reason, they found her desirable. To Rowen, Lydia looked like any old eccentric spinster with her long patchwork skirts, pudgy frame, and frizzy hair. Apparently, there was just something about her, though. Men like Reginald Powers and Darren Hawthorne ate it up all the time. “So, you don’t plan on getting married immediately?”
“We don’t have a date set or anything, if that’s what you’re afraid of.” He raised an eyebrow like he found her concern a bit silly. “We certainly hope to get married sooner rather than later, but there are no immediate plans.”
That was good, Rowen supposed. At least that way her aunts could still back out if they changed their minds. She wasn’t sure if she wanted them to or not at this point. The idea of her aunts settling down with someone at this point in their lives might actually be for the best. They had always seemed more than a little lonely since Rowen and most of her cousins had moved out. Sure, they still had Peony and Norman, but it wasn’t the same as having a house that was packed full of people.
“Is there some reason why you automatically distrust us?” asked Reginald.
That question took Rowen by surprise. She hadn’t really thought about it seeming that way. “I guess I just automatically distrust most people when it comes to the wellbeing of my family… Plus, I didn’t really like that nephew of yours.”
“Nathaniel?” Reginald asked.
Rowen nodded. Nathaniel had been a real pain during the last case Rowen had been a part of. He’d tried to be all buddy-buddy with Rowen and her family when his real motivation had just been to cause trouble and act for personal gain. The wellbeing of the Greensmiths didn’t matter so long as his work as an artist was recognized.
Reginald winced. “Nathaniel,” he said, acknowledging the name with a nod. “I can’t begin to express how sorry I am about him. Obviously, my brother and I didn’t raise him. That was my sister’s doing, and she always spoiled him if you ask me.”
“You aren’t close to your sister or your nephew, I take it?”
“Not like you are with your family. I love my sister and my nephew, but they’re very different people from my brother and myself. We’re sort of the black sheep of the family. Everyone kind of thinks we’re nuts given how interested we are in the occult.” Reginald smirked. “You know how that can be.” Rowen did indeed. “We always tried to be a good influence on Nathaniel,” Reginald continued. “But sometimes family just gets their claws in. His mother and father are both very selfish people. That rubbed off on him. People inherit the worst in their parents sometimes. I guess that’s not uncommon.”
“I certainly hope that’s not the case with me,” Rowen muttered, thinking back to her own mother.
Reginald shook his head. “I’m sure it’s not. From everything Lydia tells me, the apple couldn’t have fallen much further from the tree— not that your mother is necessarily a bad woman.” He added the last part quickly, like he was afraid he might have offended her.
Rowen laughed. “It’s all right.” She regarded the man silently for a few moments. She liked him fine, she decided. As long as this engagement lasted a sensible amount of time, she supposed she wasn’t all that upset about he and his brother possibly marrying her aunts. “I’m sorry my cousin tried to organize the family against you, by the way.”
Now it was Reginald’s turn to laugh. He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I expected something like that after this morning, to be honest. It didn’t gain as much traction as I was afraid it would. Willow and Peony didn’t have a whole lot to say.”
“I’m still pretty sure they were just trying to get out of work. Speaking of which, I should be getting back, too.” Rowen led the way back inside. “I’ll see you guys later tonight,” she told everyone in the den before waving for her husband to follow. Together, they went back out to the car.
“So, how did your heart to heart go?” asked Eric once they were in the car.
“About how you’d think.” Rowen shrugged. “Maybe a little better than that. I suppose I’m not all that worried anymore. Reginald seems like an okay guy, and it doesn’t sound like they’ve set a date for the wedding yet. They’re not about to run off to Vegas or anything… At least, I don’t think they are.”
“That’s good.”
“Yeah,” Rowen agreed. “There was something he said that made me think, though…”
“What was that?”
“We talked about Nathaniel, and how I wasn’t too fond of him. Remember?”
“How could I forget. You still complain about the guy from time to time.” Eric pulled out of the driveway.
“Right, well, Reginald mentioned that his attitude was his mother and father’s fault. He was so insufferable because he took after them so much.”
“That sort of thing does happen. It’s the age-old nature versus nurture debate, isn’t it?” Eric glanced on over in her direction. “Does it have you thinking about Timothy?”
“Is it that obvious?” Rowen looked out the window, thoughtfully. “We met the wife and the brother. We met his mother. The wife seemed awfully meek to me, and his mom had some very vocal opinions about how women were supposed to act. It seemed like her son respected her, but it sounded like she had completely deferred to her husband back when he was alive. I’m betting she tried to be the perfect little housewife and expected the same from anyone who married her son.”
“What are you getting at?”
“Well, Timothy might have forced that kind of attitude onto his wife one way or another.”
“Are you saying Timothy was an abusive husband?” asked Eric.
Rowen nodded. “It had occurred to me before. The more I think about it, the more likely it seems.”
“So, do you think Edith killed her husband?”
“I don’t think so. I think it’s more likely that her brother did. Did he seem a bit overprotective to you?”
“I guess so,” Eric agreed. “I mean it was an angle I was already considering. Either way, we should probably ask around Lichen Hallow and see if we can get anyone who knows that family to talk about their character. I’m not sure that’s something Ben is going to ask us to follow up on.”
“Which is why we need to do it ourselves. Enough has been revealed at this point, right?” Rowen was already making plans in her head. “I can act as the Lainswich Inquirer now. I’d just be gathering new information for the purposes of our paper.”
Eric pursed his lips like he didn’t wholly approve of this new plan of hers. “Well, I know I can’t stop you,” he grumbled.
“Correct,” Rowen agreed.
“So, I’m at least coming with you.”
“If you insist.” Rowen gave her husband a gentle punch on the shoulder. “Don’t act like you’re not enjoying this. It feels like it’s been way too long since we worked on a case together.”
Eric rolled his eyes. “Glad you’re enjoying a murder so much. Most people just take them for granted.”
Chapter Eleven
It was the n
ext day when Rowen and Eric went to the funeral of Timothy Lucas. They didn’t go as a couple of journalists. Rose would never have approved of that and even Rowen thought it would be a little too tacky. Instead, they went as investigators. It was probably still tacky, but it felt necessary. Rowen wanted to see who would show up to the graveside service, and Eric had been curious despite his insistence that spying on them was a bad idea.
They ended up in the parking lot, a fair distance away from the service. They had two sets of binoculars and a bag of peanuts between them. They kept dumping shells into a grocery sack as they sat and spied. “That’s a bunch of people,” Rowen commented. There were, at least, thirty people out there and there were more still showing up. “I mean, that’s a bigger turn out than I expected for a guy like him.”
“You didn’t know him,” Eric pointed out. “Maybe he was a great guy with a bunch of friends. That’s certainly what this makes it seem like.”
“You might be right,” Rowen agreed. It certainly looked like Timothy had been a popular guy. “I guess we’ll find out tomorrow.” That was when they planned on giving the whole door to door thing a go. They weren’t going to confront anyone today. That would be too much, even for them.
“Oh, no,” Eric said, suddenly.
“What is it?” Rowen asked around a mouth full of peanuts.
Eric pointed past Rowen, toward the mouth of the parking lot. The Channel 2 news van was pulling in. They weren’t exactly inconspicuous with their big yellow logo plastered onto the side of the vehicle. They pulled right on in with the other cars there for the funeral and parked.
“They can’t be serious,” said Rowen. This was tacky even by Channel 2 standards. You didn’t show up at a time like this. You had to give the family a chance to breathe before you shoved a camera in their face.
“Surely they won’t go up there while the funeral is going on,” said Eric, his hand frozen over the bag of peanuts.
