Bell, Book & Candlemas

by Jennifer David Hesse

  “You knew about the tunnels before you even came here, didn’t you?”

  Danielle nodded. “I found them when I was a little girl. My grandfather’s candy shop used to be a pharmacy run by Cadwelle, the bootlegger.”

  “Why did you think you could force Mila out of business?”

  “We needed that shop! We knew we could outbid any other potential buyers, if only the owner would give it up. Marco was under pressure from his boss, who was afraid there were too many people hanging around the B&B. I figured it couldn’t be too difficult to scare off someone who calls herself a ‘witch.’ There were these botanicas in California just like that shop. All the people there were so superstitious.”

  “So you left the notes? And vandalized the shop? And killed Charlie?” I felt my face get hot as I thought about everything this foolish couple had done. All because of greed—true to Dave’s theory.

  “I didn’t kill anyone!” Danielle protested. “And Marco didn’t mean to. He told me it was an accident. He . . . he just decided to make the most of a bad situation. He thought we could frame the psychic. Or at least scare her even more.”

  I didn’t believe it was an accident, not for one minute. I doubted Danielle believed it either.

  “Men,” she grumbled. “See what happens when you let them call the shots? They mess everything up. He couldn’t even coordinate a simple getaway. We had to hide out like animals in this stupid cave until Tish finally showed up with a boat. Then, when it’s finally time to leave, what happens? The boat floats away.”

  I didn’t say anything. My ankle had begun to throb, and I was feeling light-headed. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could balance on one foot.

  Danielle shifted on the floor. “Why don’t you come out of the shadows? Why haven’t you handcuffed me?”

  Uh-oh. With Danielle becoming suspicious, it looked like I was about to lose the upper hand. I tried to think of a plausible explanation when the beam from a spotlight shone into the cave. Please don’t let it be Marco.

  “Keli?” It was Farrah. I breathed a sigh of relief and threw down the tool I had been gripping all that time.

  “In here!”

  I grabbed the lantern and limped out of the corner.

  “Hey!” said Danielle. “You’re not really an agent, are you?”

  Farrah rushed in, with Detective Rhinehardt close behind. “I told you to let me go first,” he growled. He stopped short when he saw Danielle, who was pushing herself to her feet.

  “Hold it right there,” he said.

  She sniffed. “If you take me someplace warm and dry, I’ll tell you where to find Marco and Tish.”

  The detective handcuffed Danielle and informed her of her rights. Farrah helped me outside to a waiting police boat.

  “I do believe you’re rescuing me again,” I said.

  “Girlfriend, if anyone is the hero here, it’s you.”

  I shrugged. “I think we’re both pretty awesome.”

  Chapter 32

  The group assembled around the green bench in Fieldstone Park on Thursday evening was larger than I expected. Father Gabe was there with a handful of his parishioners. So were Pammy and a couple other lawyers, as well as some maintenance workers from the park. I stood between Wes and Mila as we listened to Mayor Helen Trumley say a few words about Charlie Morris and how much he would be missed.

  “With his cheerful disposition and ready smile, Charlie touched us all,” she concluded. “And so, we dedicate this park bench to his memory. May it remind us of his friendliness and inspire us to be friendly to others. Through a smile, a pleasant word, or a small act of kindness, we can lift one another’s spirits, as Charlie lifted ours.”

  “Hear, hear,” said Wes, clapping his hands.

  We all applauded, then mingled for a few moments and shook hands with the mayor. I had approached her at her office in city hall earlier in the week to ask about dedicating Charlie’s park bench. She readily agreed. In fact, she had just read about me in the newspaper, so she was more than happy to oblige.

  The day before, news had broken of the arrests of Marco, Danielle, and Tish. Marco and Tish had been found on the river, trying to fit the two of themselves into a one-person kayak. They were not hard to catch.

  Details about the smuggling ring continued to trickle out. So far, Marco refused to say a word, but Danielle kept talking. Thanks to her, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service could now trace other traffickers through the Midwest flea market and Marco’s San Francisco contacts. Much to my relief, they had also captured the bald courier on his way back to California.

  “I’m so glad you stopped by,” Mayor Trumley had said, walking around her desk to shake my hand. “I want to personally thank you for your role in uncovering the wildlife smuggling operation happening right here, in our very own town. And also for exposing Tish Holiday. Between you and me, I was about ready to fire her anyway. She never seemed to understand the concept of staying within budget.”

  Now, as the sun began to fade in the sky above, the mayor thanked me again and left the park. Everyone else dispersed except for Wes, Mila, and me. We gathered at the bench to take one last look at the personalized brass plaque.

  Wes put his arm around my shoulder and kissed my cheek. “Thank you again for making this happen.”

  “My colleagues were happy to contribute.” I chuckled. “I think I could ask them for just about anything these days.”

  “That’s not surprising,” Mila said. “You have good karma.” She reached into her cloth satchel and pulled out a plastic bag full of bread crumbs. She opened it, and we each reached in to grab a handful. As we sprinkled bread crumbs around the bench, and pigeons joined us to accept the offering, Mila recited a Celtic prayer:

  “Deep peace of the running wave to you.

  Deep peace of the flowing air to you.

  Deep peace of the quiet earth to you.

  Deep peace of the shining stars to you.

  Deep peace of the gentle night to you.”

  Wherever Charlie’s soul was, I felt sure he was at peace.

  * * *

  The next evening, I was once again performing a ritual by the light of the setting sun, but this time I was alone. A broad tree stump served as a makeshift altar. In the back of the round surface were a grouping of ten candles. In front were my Book of Shadows and a beautiful bronze bell. It was the bell Mila had used in the cleansing ritual at Moonstone Treasures. She had given it to me as a thank-you gift.

  I opened the book to the page where I had recorded my Candlemas spell a couple weeks earlier. Candlemas was all about hope and new beginnings. Now that the recent danger had passed, I could move on with my life. But I wasn’t returning to the same old life as before. I was entering a new phase, one in which I could be completely honest with both my best friend and my boyfriend.

  Given all these changes, I felt inspired to perform another Candlemas ritual—this time outdoors. I cast a circle, sounding the bell at each of the four quarters. Then I proceeded to light the candles. After lighting each one, I took a clear glass cloche from a box at my feet and covered the candles. I read from my book as I went.

  “One flame to purify

  One to transform,

  One flame to beautify

  One to keep warm.

  One flame for innocence

  One for desire,

  One flame for benevolence

  One to inspire.”

  As before, I saved the two largest candles for last: one to honor the young god, just beginning his journey around the wheel of the year, and one to honor the patron goddess of Candlemas. I chanted:

  “A flame for the god, born anew

  A flame for Brigid, goddess true.”

  Finally, to close the ritual, I rang the bell three more times and said:

  “Once . . . to keep evil at bay.

  Twice . . . to thank the woodland fey.

  Thrice . . . for peace, come what may.”

  I wiped the snow off my bo
ots before kicking them off on the doormat. After hanging my white hooded cloak on a hook, I made a beeline for the fireplace and held my hands close to the screen. Then I turned to warm my backside and survey the cozy scene before me.

  Farrah and Jake were preparing dinner in the small kitchen, filling the cabin with the heavenly aroma of homemade vegan chili. Jake took a small taste, then stirred in more chili powder. Farrah sliced avocados and fresh cilantro for garnish.

  “Perfect timing!” she called. “We’ll be ready to eat in a few minutes.”

  “Smells wonderful,” I said. “This is such a treat.”

  Wes looked up from his laptop. “It sure is. They’ve refused my offers to help, so you and I can take cleanup duty after dinner.”

  “That’s fine by me.” I walked over to join Wes on the sofa, and he moved over to make room. “How did your pictures turn out?”

  He shifted the laptop so I could see. “You tell me.”

  “Beautiful.” Wes scrolled through the photos he had taken during our hike earlier in the day. Among my favorites were images of a frozen waterfall, a snow-speckled forest path, and ice-covered branches glittering like diamonds in the sunlight. I especially liked how he had captured the frost-covered trees surrounding the hidden cove.

  In spite of the cold, it had turned out to be a gorgeous Valentine’s Day weekend. And I couldn’t imagine a better way to spend it. A few weeks earlier, Jake had reserved a Briar Creek cabin as a surprise for Farrah. When they found out they had been assigned one of the larger cabins, they decided to invite Wes and me along.

  “Okay, everybody,” said Jake, placing the lid on the counter with a clatter. “I’m calling it done. Let’s eat.”

  Wes set his laptop on the coffee table, then stood up and extended his hand to help me up. We joined Farrah and Jake in the kitchen, filled our bowls, and gathered around the table. After one spoonful, I nudged Jake. “This chili is delicious. I need to get the recipe.”

  “Glad you like it,” he said.

  Farrah grinned. “I keep telling him he should have been a chef instead of a personal trainer.”

  “Oh, that reminds me,” I said. “I finally heard from Yvette this morning.”

  “’Bout time,” Farrah said. “She was probably embarrassed, huh? Were the Thomisons the nameless clients she was protecting?”

  “Well, they may have thought Yvette would help them purchase Mila’s shop. But it turns out Yvette was not pestering Mila on their behalf.”

  “Oh?” said Farrah. “Who was her client?”

  “Herself,” I said. “She wanted to open her own small business in that space.”

  “A real estate agency?” Farrah asked.

  I shook my head. “No. Actually, she confessed to me that she’s tired of the real estate game. She’s been wanting to switch careers for a while now. She wants to open an artisanal cheese and wine shop.”

  “Really?” said Wes. “But she’s been so successful in real estate.”

  “I know,” I said. “I guess that’s why she felt pressured to keep it up and not reveal her true feelings. She ran herself ragged and got burnt out. She’s been holding on to this other dream, trying to figure out a way to make it come true.” I took a sip of water and thought about the aloof real estate agent. I could definitely sympathize with her inner struggle.

  “Interesting,” said Farrah. “Can’t she find another location?”

  “As a matter of fact, she does have another location in mind. The Cadwelle Mansion.”

  Everyone gave me questioning looks, and I continued. “Yvette told me that ever since she sold the mansion to the Thomisons, she’s been wishing she had bought it instead.”

  “Did she want to run a B&B, too?” Farrah asked.

  “Well, after watching Danielle and Marco, Yvette started to think she could do it. She was reading up on it. In fact, the book she hid when Marco showed Wes, Sheana, and me the library was all about how to operate a bed-and-breakfast.”

  “Why was that such a big secret?” asked Jake.

  “Yvette didn’t want the Thomisons to know. See, she knew about the state of Danielle and Marco’s finances. She told me they were way overextended. They were spending money right and left—on clothes, food, furniture, cleaning services. Of course, now we know they were expecting a big payoff from the illegal rhino horns. Yvette thought they were just being irresponsible. She predicted the home would be foreclosed, so she was preparing to jump in as soon as the opportunity presented itself.”

  “She is shrewd, isn’t she?” said Farrah.

  “She’s a smart lady,” I agreed. “As Marco continued to spend money extravagantly, Yvette began to suspect he was the burglar. She didn’t know how he was doing it, but she started to keep her eye on him. Then one day she overheard Marco on his cell phone saying something about a tunnel. After that, she started poking around in the speakeasy and Danielle caught her. This must have been right around the same time I found the tunnels myself.”

  Wes put his arm around me and gave me a squeeze. Farrah got up to put on a kettle of water. “Keep talking,” she said. “I want to hear everything.”

  “Based on Danielle’s reaction, it dawned on Yvette that there was something more serious going on. She remembered the break-ins at Moonstone and was afraid Marco had killed Charlie. She realized she might be in danger. So she skipped out that night, right after I heard her arguing with Danielle.”

  “It sounds like Yvette will have her chance to purchase the B&B after all,” Farrah said. “I hope it works out for her. It would be a shame for the mansion to sit empty again.”

  The kettle whistled, so I hopped up to retrieve it. Wes followed me and prepared a plate of cookies, while I placed four mugs and a basket of assorted teabags on a tray. We returned to the table and passed around the kettle.

  “Yvette told me another interesting bit of gossip,” I said, cupping my hands around my mug. I inhaled the mint-flavored steam.

  “Well, don’t hold out on us,” said Farrah. “What is it?”

  “It’s about Tish. Evidently, she’s been cleared of any smuggling charges. She was just after Marco for money, trying to get him to pay her off to keep quiet about the tunnels. She had learned about them from old city files. Then Marco actually needed her help to escape, and she agreed—for a price. Of course, she still faces charges for aiding and abetting a fugitive. Oh, and she’s been officially terminated from city employment.”

  “She wasn’t in her position for very long,” Wes remarked.

  “Apparently she did a lot of damage in the short time she was at city hall. Mayor Trumley implied as much when I went to see her the other day. If you thought Marco was spending money recklessly, you should see the debts Tish racked up.”

  “Ha!” said Farrah. “I knew that Groundhog Festival was over the top. I can only guess how much it cost to bring Rhett Shelby to Edindale.”

  “That was a big part of it,” I said. “Apparently she also had a habit of wining and dining business owners, like the investors she entertained in the speakeasy.” I bit into a chewy gingersnap and thought about the flamboyant tourism director. From what I had seen, I wondered if part of her trouble had been a tendency to overly wine herself.

  “Well, I won’t miss her,” said Farrah. “She seemed kind of snobby to me. I didn’t like the way she talked about Mila and her business.”

  I smiled as I sipped my tea. Looking back, it was hard to imagine I ever wanted to keep my friendship with Mila a secret, even from Farrah. It made me happy to hear Farrah speak of her as a friend.

  * * *

  Around midnight, I padded into the living room to check on the fire. Everyone else was asleep. As cozy and safe as I felt in the cabin, surrounded by friends, I still had trouble drifting off. I blamed the unnerving fact that I had met and interacted with a murderer. It was even more troubling to remember how close I had come to being his next victim.

  But I survived. I had to keep reminding myself. In the end, I was pr
otected.

  I sighed and added a piece of wood to the fire. Sitting on a floor pillow, I watched the dancing flames and reflected on how two-faced Marco and Danielle had turned out to be. Instead of the nice, honest people they pretended to be, they were actually criminals. It just goes to show you, people are not always what they seem.

  On the other hand, sometimes people were exactly what they seemed. Reverend Natty was entirely transparent about his beliefs and views. He never hid his agenda. And, as far as I could tell, he worked within the confines of the law to spread his message.

  Catrina was also exactly what she appeared to be—a passionate and strongly opinionated young woman. She never hid her beliefs either. Whether or not she always obeyed the law, I wasn’t quite sure. It was never proven, but I still suspected she was responsible for Reverend Natty’s flat tires. I spoke with Mila about this and my conversation with Catrina’s ex-girlfriend. I told her she might want to keep an eye on Catrina. Mila assured me that she would, but she also said Catrina had begun to mellow out. Apparently seeing Mila arrested served as a wake-up call for Catrina.

  Mila also told me something I should have thought of in the first place. She said she wouldn’t necessarily take Andi’s word at face value, given the way things had ended between Catrina and Andi.

  Why didn’t I think of that? I had represented enough divorce clients to know that a person’s ex was not the most reliable judge of his or her former lover’s character.

  I shook my head and picked up the fireplace poker. I stirred the embers, making the fire crackle and spark. In spite of all the failed marriages I had witnessed in my profession, I also saw plenty of strong relationships—like the bond between my parents. When I called my mom to tell her I had found the location of her sister’s commune, she mentioned the fact that she and my dad’s fiftieth wedding anniversary wasn’t too far off. She even suggested that I bring Wes along to the as yet unplanned party in Nebraska.