Thorn to Die

by Lacy Andersen

  He stared into my eyes a moment longer before turning back to the bar. “That’s hard. I’m sorry you have to go through all that. My mom wouldn’t have wanted that for her.”

  Ian’s mother, Susie, had passed away about 11 years ago with uterine cancer. She and my mom had been very close, to the point where I often wondered if Susie’s death had been a springboard to my mother’s eventual unraveling. It was a good reminder that for as crazy as my mother could make me, at least I still had her. Ian had no one to drive him nuts, as only a mother could.

  “Well, that’s why I’ve been doing a little digging of my own,” I said, sticking my hand into my pocket. No better time than now to hand the letter over. Maybe Ian could make better sense out of the whole thing. “My cousins and I had this bad feeling about Angie Pine…”

  He stopped me with a slap of his hand on the table. “Are you kidding me, Hazy? Digging around? You’re not a cop.”

  I frowned. “I know that.”

  “Then why are you butting in where you don’t belong?”

  The angry rash was back. I folded my hands in my lap to keep from scratching at it. “Excuse me, but you’re the one that put me in the middle of this thing. I’m not going to sit around quietly while my family gets torn apart. I hate to break it to you, Ian Larson, but I’m just not that kind of woman.”

  He sighed, annoyance heavy on his breath. “Just tell me what you found and then let me do my job. Can you at least do that?”

  I wasn’t going to make any promises, but he must’ve taken my silence as affirmation because he waved his hand for me to continue.

  “As I was saying,” I pulled the letter out of my pocket, “we got this bad feeling about Angie Pine and just so happened to come across this letter between her and Mr. White.” I handed the creased page to him and looked over his shoulder as he read it. “Looks incriminating, doesn’t it? Maybe Angie killed him for revenge. She wanted part of the award and he wouldn’t give it to her. Makes sense to me.”

  His frown grew deeper the further down the letter he got. Finally at the end, he folded it and looked back up at me with suspicion. “I don’t suppose you came across this letter yesterday evening, say, sometime around 3:00 p.m.?”

  I chuckled nervously and reached for my cider. “Um…I don’t know. Might’ve been sometime around then.”

  “Tell me you didn’t break into her shop and steal this letter.”

  My hand made a zipping motion across my lips. “I’m not telling you anything.”

  He sighed and unfolded the letter again, rereading it slowly. “I’m not sure this is proof of anything, Hazy. Yeah, they didn’t like each other. But half the town didn’t like Allen White.”

  Frustration bloomed in my gut, but I ignored it and remained glued to my stool. “Well, maybe not. But we also talked to Laura Blight today and she told us that Allen and Angie really had a serious feud going on. And, while we were there, his neighbor came over. Boy, did that guy have a serious bone to pick with Allen. He told us he was glad Allen was dead.”

  Ian’s face went from a light shade of pink to dark purple. “You talked to witnesses?”

  Uh, oh. I might’ve said too much. Leaning back onto my barstool, I bit the inside of my cheek. He didn’t look too happy. “Yeah, we might’ve run into a couple people.”

  “That’s it.” He abruptly stood, abandoning a half-finished beer. “I’m warning you, Hazy. Don’t get involved. This is police work. If you keep interrupting, I’m going to have to arrest you for interference.”

  My mouth fell open and my cheeks began to burn. “You can’t do that…”

  “I can and I will.” He threw two bucks next to the beer and stuffed Angie’s letter in his coat pocket. “The next time I catch you interfering, you’re going to spend the night in jail. This is your only warning.”

  He sped out the door, leaving me to sulk alone at the bar.

  Chapter 13

  I didn’t stay at the club for long. The late evening found me walking home alone, lost in my own thoughts. For as crazy as Ian could make me, I hadn’t intended to make him angry. This wasn’t about him. A killer was still out there; that much I knew. And the sooner we found him or her, the sooner my family would be at peace again.

  But then again, maybe that was a lie. A month in Uriville had done little to bring back the spark in Momma Tula’s eyes. This morning I had to serve her breakfast in bed since she wouldn’t get out from under the covers. When I went back for lunch, she’d eaten maybe two bites of her waffles. Not even her favorite foods could tempt her.

  Brunick Manor came into view at the end of the road. I pushed up the hill toward it, feeling the sweet burn in my calves. Kat was probably already snoring away in bed, his little cloven feet pointing straight up toward the ceiling, his pink belly exposed. Not feeling ready for the companionship of my crazy aunts, I turned at the corner of the house and headed toward the dock in back. Lake Apolka was a pool of black ink beneath the night sky. Bullfrogs echoed along its banks, calling to each other in a cacophony of mating calls.

  I walked out on the dock and sat on its edge, dangling my feet into the water. As a child, I never would’ve stuck my feet into its murky depths. Aunt Viv had told me one too many stories of creatures that liked to lurk in water and steal away naughty children. Fortunately, I’d outgrown those stories, although my heart still skipped a beat when the water next to me began to ripple.

  “What are you doing out here alone, child?” Grammy Jo trudged into the water next to the dock, a towel draped around her torso. Her bare skinny legs were visible even in the moonlight. “Come to join Grammy for a swim?”

  A shudder went through me. Swimming naked with an old woman wasn’t exactly on the top of my list of things to do tonight. There were many things I wanted to see in this world, but that wasn’t one of them.

  “Nah, I’m just out here thinking.” I dipped my big toe back into the warm water. “It’s a good place to get lost in your thoughts.”

  Grammy Jo tossed her towel onto the dock behind me and waded out into deeper water. I adverted my eyes until I could be sure the water covered all necessary body parts.

  “And what might those thoughts be?” she asked while treading water. With the moon above, her short silver hair nearly glowed.

  “About Momma Tula. And the murder. And everything else, I guess.”

  “You think Momma Tula wouldn’t be able to handle it if the police suspected me of murder?”

  I turned my head sharply to look at Grammy. “How did you…?”

  “I may be old, child, but I’m not stupid.” She splashed me and some of the water soaked the front of my blouse. “I see you girls worry. But you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. Things will work out. They always do for the Brunick women.”

  A frown pulled at the corners of my mouth. Maybe that had been true in the past, but Momma Tula wasn’t pulling through this phase. And the longer she stayed like this, the harder it would be for me to go back to school and finish my degree. But the instant I thought that, an overwhelming surge of guilt washed over me.

  Grammy swam closer to the dock. “Child, you’re still worrying. I can see it on your face.”

  “But how am I supposed to let it all go?” I could feel the desperation in my voice and once again, I was six years old asking for Grammy to make everything okay. “Haven’t you been paying attention? Momma Tula isn’t getting better.”

  “Your Momma is sick.” She shook her head as if I should’ve known that by now. “It’s going to take time. You were both traumatized in Arizona. I’m glad that you were able to pull through it so well, but my Tulipia has always been a sensitive girl. She processes things differently. You shouldn’t be so hard on her.”

  “I’m not!” My spine straightened as I took the defensive. “I’m just trying to make sure she survives. Don’t you have any potion? Any magical cure that can fix her? Please, Grammy Jo. Tell me.”

  “The only cure that woman needs is our love and time.”
She leaned on the dock, close enough so I could see the wrinkles next to her eyes. “My child, you can’t change her. You just have to support her until she chooses to change. Can you do that?”

  I lifted my eyes to the heavens to stop the tears from falling. It was too much to ask. I might have been twenty-five years old, but I still needed my mother. Our magic had been the answer for so many problems. Want to dye your hair purple? There’s a spell for that. Want to get rid of a wart? There’s a spell for that. Want to pack up your house in one swift motion and run away from Arizona? There’s a spell for that. But there wasn’t one for this.

  Grammy grabbed my hand and squeezed it tight. “I want you to stop worrying about me, about your Momma, and start living the life a twenty-five year old witch should be living. At your age, I had five boyfriends and a blossoming business to keep me happy. I’d suggest you find something similar.”

  “Grammy!” I swatted at her shoulder. “I didn’t know you were such a player.”

  “The best,” she said with a wide toothy grin. “Kept them coming back for more. It’s a Brunick family charm.”

  While I wasn’t so sure about that, it didn’t surprise me that Grammy Jo had her admirers. She’d never let aging slow her down.

  “Come on, child.” She began to swim into deeper water, her arms moving around her body in graceful circles. “Join me for a swim. It’ll make everything feel better.”

  I looked over my shoulder at the house. No one seemed to be walking around. The yard was dead silent and even the bullfrogs had quieted down.

  What the heck. Grammy Jo was right. I was only in my twenties and I needed to start acting like it.

  Stripping off my top, I deposited it on Grammy’s towel and followed with the rest of my clothes. The moonlight danced along my pale skin and made my coppery hair appear almost blonde. It was now or never. I shrieked and ran the last few feet of the dock, jumping with all my strength and cannonballing into the water. Grammy whooped and hollered as I broke the surface for air.

  It felt exhilarating; nothing between me and the silky smooth water caressing my skin. I bobbed on the surface, dragging my feet across the sandy floor below. So much for Aunt Viv’s water monsters.

  The peaceful moment was soon shattered by the shadowy figure of a canoe sliding around the edge of the lake. Three figures sat inside it, their faces hidden in the dark. Raucous laughter bounced over the surface of the lake toward the dock. From the sound of their chatter, it seemed like we had ourselves a few naughty boy scouts commandeering an illegal late night canoe trip.

  Grammy Jo cursed and swam toward me. “Darn campers. Can’t get a moment to ourselves. This is my lake.”

  Well, technically it was a state lake, but I wasn’t about to correct the furious witch swimming next to me.

  “Maybe we should get out.

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” She raised her hands above her head, her fingertips connecting. “This will take care of them in no time.”

  Uttering a few unrecognizable words in Latin, she spread her hands apart. A shadowy figure appeared. It was draped in a dark cloak with a sickle in hand. The Reaper. Grammy had perfected this illusion when my cousins and I were kids. We’d begged her to do it again and again, until she could call him up without thinking.

  The Reaper sped across the shore, straight toward the canoe and its merry campers. Three shrill screams lit up the night. A loud splash announced their evacuation of the boat. Grammy cackled as the campers scrambled back into their boat, their oars flying.

  In another minute, they’d be gone, no doubt, to tell the other campers of their horrifying encounter. I smiled and shook my head, wondering what they’d say.

  “You’re evil,” I said with a splash of my hand.

  She grinned and splashed me back. “Not evil. Just a witch.”

  Chapter 14

  The next morning, I’d barely had enough time to toss my hair up into a messy bun before a commotion downstairs drew me from my trundle bed on the floor next to a snoozing Momma Tula. Kat stretched his little legs and followed, no doubt thinking I was on my way for breakfast.

  I paused at the top of the stairs. Two men in police uniforms were standing at the bottom. They had their backs turned to me and Grammy Jo stood next to them, holding a piece of paper in her hands.

  “What’s going on?” I hurried down the stairs, nearly tripping over Kat as he tried to get in front of me. “What’s this about?” Ian was at the front door. He got a look at me in my skimpy pajama shorts and tank top and immediately turned away, as if he’d walked in on me naked. I marched right up to him and poked him in his chest. “What are you doing?”

  “Serving a search warrant.” His eyes were glued to Kat roaming the floorboards. “Judge Nowak granted it this morning. This’ll only take a few minutes.”

  “A search warrant?” Maybe I wasn’t awake enough, but confusion clouded my head. “What about the letter I gave you last night? Why aren’t you going after Angie Pine?”

  This really was a witch hunt. He couldn’t just ignore that evidence and come after Grammy Jo. I wouldn’t let him.

  This time he looked straight at me, his jaw muscles working. “I talked to Ms. Pine. She has a solid alibi for Allen White’s time of death. She was with a customer all morning, putting together a custom order for a funeral. It wasn’t her.”

  “Okay, so if it’s not her, it’s definitely Andy Jenkings. He told me he was glad Allen was dead.”

  “People say a lot of things.” He sighed and rubbed a hand over his short blond hair. “That doesn’t mean they’re killers. I don’t think Grammy Jo meant to hurt anyone, but I have to follow this through.”

  I pointed outside. “Yeah, well you can follow this right out the front door.”

  “I’ve got a warrant to search the premises. You can’t kick me out.”

  I wanted to kick him right where it hurt, but stomped my bare foot on the floor instead. Kat squealed and ran for cover, making me regret my outburst.

  “Hazy, this is just protocol.” He placed a hand on my bare shoulder, my skin burning under his touch. “We probably won’t find anything, but the lab just sent us a report this morning. Ricin was used to kill Mr. White. We have to make sure there’s nothing here.”

  Ricin? Wasn’t that the kind of thing creepy anarchists made in their off-the-grid shacks and mailed to government officials they didn’t like? We didn’t have any of that stuff here. The thought made me relax a bit.

  “See?” Ian must’ve seen the tension fall from my shoulders. “It’ll be okay. We’ll be gone before you know it.”

  My aunts were bustling around in the back of the house, making snide remarks to the officers doing the search. Grammy Jo had migrated to the garden, her gloves and hat on. She’d spent many a stressful time in that garden. The day that Momma Tula had announced we were moving to Arizona with her boyfriend, Grammy spent eighteen hours weeding and hedging. It was her happy place, she’d tell me.

  Raven stumbled down the stairs, her beautiful glossy black hair nearly covering her tired face. Blythe followed, curlers in her hair. She froze when she caught sight of Ian. “What’s going on?”

  “These officers,” the words came out in a hiss, “are serving a warrant on our home. But they’re not going to find anything.”

  Ian licked his lips, but didn’t open his mouth to say anything.

  “Officers? There are more of them here?” Blythe jumped up the stairs. “I can’t be seen like this.”

  “Oh, get a grip,” Raven grumbled. “They’re not here to see you.”

  The two of them threw disgruntled looks back and forth as I awkwardly stood next to Ian. My cousins didn’t see eye to eye on most things; boys included.

  “Larson!” An officer called from behind the house. “You might want to come and see this.”

  Ian and I made brief eye contact before we both jogged for the back door, trailed by my cousins and aunts. Outside, two officers were standing next to a large potted plant. It
stretched nearly as high as my head, with large green glossy leaves and round flowering heads that resembled thistles.

  “Ricinus communis,” one officer stated with a proud tilt of his head. “Or more commonly known as the castor bean plant. The seeds are processed to create the highly toxic substance we call Ricin. We have our guilty party.”

  “Baloney,” Grammy Jo said, throwing her gloves on the ground. “That’s my castor oil plant.”

  Aunt Piper grabbed her mother’s arm and huddled in close to her. “It’s for healing!”

  Blythe bounced up next to them, her curlers bobbing on top of her head. “Yeah, you’ve got the wrong guy, bucko.”

  “Well, tell it to the court. You’re under arrest, Josephine Brunick.”

  The cop took out his handcuffs and Aunt Viv began to wail. Raven stepped in front of her, shielding her from view. The backyard erupted in noise that succeeded in disrupting a flock of geese on the edge of the lake. They took off in a flurry of feathers, their honks adding to the noise.

  My attention darted to Momma Tula’s bedroom window. She was going to hear this if we didn’t quiet down. And the last thing she needed was to witness this scene. Everything was falling apart.

  As the cop read Grammy Jo her rights, I turned to Ian. This was all his fault. “You’re not serious! Grammy didn’t do it. This isn’t right.”

  He shrugged, looking as hopeless as I felt. “I have to take her in, Hazy. The court will straighten this all out. I promise.”

  Never in my twenty-five years of life did I imagine my Grammy Jo would someday be taken away in handcuffs. I watched them lead her away, her garden hat still tied to her head. My legs began to tremble with the effort of standing, so I stumbled to the stone garden bench and sat down.

  “Hazel, what do we do?” Blythe kneeled in front of me and took my hand. “What do we do?”

  I thought hard about Allen White and his lifeless body lying in that garden. I thought about Angie Pine’s letter and Laura Blight’s reaction to our questions. Andy Jenking’s and his bag of fertilizer. I thought about the potion I’d poured into Allen’s tea. The painting of the dead rose and his face.