Tyra led the way into the kitchen. A large room, with an eat-in area that also overlooked the backyard, the kitchen looked cozy and homey, but the broken stoneware that littered the floor spoiled that feel, and the cupboards had been opened and boxes and bags of food were spilled everywhere.
“She certainly did a number in here.” I pointed toward the trunks. “Trinity, there—can you open those?”
Trinity knelt by the trunks, gazing at the padlocks. Then, he pulled out a huge ring of keys from a messenger bag that he carried everywhere. He eyed the locks again, then the keys, and finally chose one, slowly fitting it into the padlock while he whispered something under his breath. A moment later and a soft click indicated he had been successful.
He quickly unlocked the other one and then stood back. “There, all done. I’ll stick around for a while to make sure you don’t need me anymore.”
I gingerly opened the first trunk. Inside were a bunch of papers. We piled them on the table, sifting through them, but they looked like somebody had cleared out a desk and just dumped them in the trunk, closed the lid, and forgot about them.
“These must have…yes,” I said, examining one and seeing the name “Denise Rigby” on the page. “These were hers—the woman who owned the house before your landlord bought it. I can’t see anything here that might trigger her, unless there’s something incriminating in here. So, she wasn’t married? Her husband didn’t take these with him?”
Tyra shook her head. “No, she wasn’t married. Or rather, she was divorced.”
I sifted through the papers until I came to a photograph that showed a crusty-looking woman who looked about fifty, along with a tall man around her age, and four teenagers. They looked a lot like older versions of the children that I had seen in my vision and were standing in the back yard. I glanced at the back of the photo and written there were the names: Hiram, Denise, Kaitlin, Donny, Frank, and Diana.
“Did your landlord mention if she had children?”
Tyra shook her head. “No. The person who sold the house was a lawyer, so either she didn’t have children or they hired him to sell the house for them. Here, let me—”
The other trunk suddenly thumped as the lid began to rattle. I dropped the picture and motioned for Tyra and Trinity to move back. The next moment, the lid flew open with a bang. I jumped, even though I had been expecting it.
“What the hell?”
“I think there’s something in there she wants us to see,” I said, moving forward cautiously. I peeked into the trunk. There was a jewelry box, and what looked like a scattered array of scarves, gloves, and handbags.
“What do you want me to look at?” I asked, looking at the ceiling. “The jewelry box?”
The lid thumped again, rising and falling.
“Must be that.” I pulled out the jewelry box and carried it over to the table, where I set it down.
A modest box, it was made out of polished mahogany. Inside the lid was a mirror. As I sorted through the trinkets inside, I saw a heart-shaped locket. It was the only thing that looked of any worth. I opened it up and there was a picture of a young girl—the one who had looked up in my vision—on one side, and a very small key on the other side. I took the key out of the necklace, frowning. “I think this is Kaitlin, from the other picture.”
There was a sudden shift of scarves in the trunk and they fell to the side, uncovering what looked to be a smaller box. I lifted it out. The box had a tiny lock on the box, and I glanced at the key. “I think…” I fit the key into the lock and turned it. A very quiet click, and the box opened.
Inside, I found an absolutely stunning diamond ring. It had to be three carats, and I knew from the feel of it that it was diamond and not cubic zirconia. The stone was set in a rose gold setting. I picked it up and read the inscription on the inside. “Hiram & Denise.”
“This was her wedding ring.” I paused, then said, “Denise, if you’re here, do you want Kaitlin to have this ring?”
The lid to the trunk thumped again.
“Is that why you’ve been tearing up the house? You were afraid the ring would be given away or lost?”
Again, a thump.
I let out a long breath and turned to Tyra. “She wants this ring to go to whom I assume is her stepdaughter Kaitlin. Is that right, Denise?”
The lid thumped, this time emphatically.
“I don’t know how to find her,” Tyra said. “Can you help?”
“Well, give me the name of your landlord. I can probably track Kaitlin down.” I turned back toward the trunks. “If I take the ring and find your stepdaughter and give it to her, will you leave Tyra alone and move on? You really should let go and find your way to your next adventure,” I added. “I can help you if you don’t know how.”
A sudden gust of wind swept through the house and then…nothing. Denise was gone.
“Well, that takes care of that,” I said. “She’s gone, and you shouldn’t have any more problems. I’ll take the ring and make sure it gets to Kaitlin. Text me the name and phone number of your landlord.” I glanced around at the mess. “Do you want me to help you clean up?”
Tyra dropped into a chair at the dinette table. “No, I can do this. Thanks, though. I’ve been at my wits’ end.”
“Sometimes, spirits don’t know how to get the attention of the person they’re trying to contact. They…kind of go overboard.”
“What about the rest of her stuff?” Tyra asked. “And what do I owe you?”
“I don’t think she cares. You can donate it, or keep it if you like. This was a relatively easy job. A hundred should do it.” I knew Tyra didn’t make a lot of money, so I decided to give her a break. I usually charged about five hundred for a simple exorcism/cleansing. As she wrote me out a check, I turned to Trinity. “Thanks, dude. You coming out to the harvest festival tonight?”
He shook his head. “No, I’ve got somewhere I promised to be. But I might make it out there later. I could use a few pumpkins for the stoop, and I haven’t been out of the city proper in ages.”
After Tyra texted me the landlord’s name and number, I pocketed the box with the ring, the locket and the key, and Trinity and I headed out.
Chapter Four
I walked into the house only to find my father teaching Raj how to play poker. They were using potato chips for money.
I stared at Curikan for a moment. “What are you doing?”
He flashed me a guilty grin. “Well, Raj wanted to play a game and I didn’t feel like playing Monopoly.”
Raj had developed a love for Monopoly, and every time he begged to play it, I regretted ever even mentioning it. I found it boring, but he would sulk if I asked to fold the game halfway through. As I glanced at Raj’s eager look, I decided maybe poker was a good substitute.
“Carry on,” I said, heading toward my bedroom. “I’m going to take a shower before making an early dinner. I need to eat before I head out to the harvest fair.”
“I’ll cook, if you like.” My father was an excellent cook and I welcomed the offer.
“I’d love that. Thank you,” I said, blowing him a kiss.
* * *
By the time we were ready to eat, Kipa arrived. Curikan had made sloppy joes, and I had the feeling that Raj had spurred him on with that one, but they were good and I had no complaints.
“So, what are you going to do while I head out to the fair?” I asked.
Kipa shrugged. “Watch TV. Maybe—”
“Play poker,” Raj said.
Kipa did a double-take. “What? How do you know how to play poker?”
Raj nodded, smiling. “Curikan taught Raj.”
“Well, then, poker it is,” Kipa said, laughing. “We’ll have a boys’ night in, how about it? I happen to have a bottle of Vykolian brandy—”
“Don’t you dare give Raj any brandy,” I warned him. “He can’t handle alcohol.”
“Raj prefers soda,” Raj said, his mouth full. He sprayed bits of sloppy joe all over the
floor by his tray.
“Raj, no talking with food in your mouth.” I shook my head. “You’ll make a mess.” Turning to my father, I said, “Thanks for not forcing him to eat at the table.”
“Who would do that?” Curikan asked.
“My mother,” I said, grinning.
Curikan snorted. “Ow! That hurt. I snorted meat sauce. Did Phasmoria really try to make Raj eat at the table?”
I nodded. “Yes, and it wasn’t a successful experiment. She’s stopped trying.”
We finished up, and Kipa and Curikan promised to clean the kitchen before they started their poker game.
I wasn’t planning on reading the cards at the fair tonight—I was saving that for Saturday and Sunday. Instead, I planned to shop for pumpkins, preserves, and anything else that looked good. I made sure I had plenty of cash—while most of the vendors took credit cards, it was easier to use cash—and headed toward the door.
“Raven,” Kipa called, jogging around the corner to stop me before I left. “Please be careful. Don’t take any chances and keep your phone with you at all times.” He looked worried. “I really feel like I should come with you.”
I hesitated. “Is that instinct, or just worry?” If it was a premonition, I would let him go with me. With Pandora out there, I wasn’t taking any chances.
He paused, closing his eyes. “I guess…it’s just worry. I don’t get the sense anything is going to happen, but these days, I’m always uneasy when you’re off on your own. Pandora…”
“I know all about Pandora. I’ll call you when I get there and before I head home. You have Llewellyn’s number—he’ll be there too.” I raised myself on tiptoe to kiss him. “I love you, you big lug. Have fun with Raj and my father tonight.”
“I’ll do my best,” Kipa said, then whispered, “I’d have a whole lot more fun with you.”
At that, a warmth inside me flared and I leaned in for a longer kiss. His arms felt protective around me, and just pressing against him made me want to run in the bedroom, strip down, and pull him down on top of me. But I managed to push him away.
“I’m holding you to that—a rain check? Either when I get home or tomorrow at some point?”
“Rain check it is,” he said, reluctantly letting me go. “Raven…”
“I know. I’ll be cautious and keep alert. Walk me out to the car?”
He walked me to my car. I had sold my sedan and bought a Subaru—the sedan had too much baggage attached to it because of Pandora. I gazed up into the approaching twilight. It was six-thirty, and sunset was half an hour away. The nights were getting longer, the days shorter, and everything was filtered with that golden tinge that autumn brings with it.
I locked my doors and started the ignition after wanding the car for bugs. Kipa stood in the driveway, his hand raised as I backed out onto the street and headed for the harvest fair.
* * *
Marigold and Rain lived on the outskirts of Woodinville, and thanks to traffic, by the time I arrived, it was seven-fifteen and the sun had set. But as I came around the end where 155th Place turned into 175th Street, up ahead I could see the lights glowing off to the right. Marigold and Rain had set up a pumpkin tree, with pumpkin-shaped lights threaded through the branches, and large glittering ornaments in orange, purple, and green. It was by the turn into their farm. The tree was cheerful and cozy and fun. It was then that I realized that I hadn’t been doing enough to take my mind off of the war against Typhon. We weren’t even into the thick of it, and I was already sick of it.
“Ha,” I muttered to myself. “I’m a poet.”
I followed the smoothly graveled dirt road into the heart of the farm. A large farmhouse sat to the right, and up ahead was a large barn, several outbuildings, a makeshift parking lot, and to the left stretched vibrant fields along with a corn maze. Their beehives were farther up ahead, to keep anyone from accidentally disrupting the bees, along with their chicken coops and a secondary barn.
I parked near the entrance and turned off the ignition, leaning back to watch the darkening sky for a moment. But a moment later, a tap on the driver’s window sent me shrieking and I grabbed the door, ready to body-slam anybody who might be trying to break in my car.
“Raven! It’s me!” There stood Llew, with Jordan right behind him.
Relaxing, I took a deep breath and then let it out slowly as I opened the door, shaking my head. “You need to stop doing that, dude. Ever since Pandora, my reflexes are lightning-quick and I just about belly-punched you with my car door.”
Llew’s face fell. “I’m sorry. I never even thought about it. You ready to go?”
I nodded, gathering my purse and my reusable shopping bags. “I’m good to go.”
Making sure I had keys in hand, I stepped out of the car before locking it. I tucked the keys in my pocket rather than my purse. I had learned a few tricks over the past few months, and one was to always have some cash, your phone, and keys on you instead of in your purse. It made it easier if somebody tried to waylay you.
We headed over to the entrance line. There were a good number of people around—Rain and Marigold had a lot of customers and were making a name for themselves as local artisans. As we bought our tickets, the girl selling them gave us a big smile. It was Marigold’s daughter, Evie, from a prior marriage.
“Evie! How are you? Where’s your mother?” I glanced around, wondering where Marigold was.
“She’s over in the barn, helping set up for the preserves contest. There’s also an artisans’ contest and several other events she’s overseeing. I keep telling her the festival is big enough that we need help, but she’s convinced we can handle everything by ourselves.” Evie looked frustrated. “We were run ragged last year. I don’t even want to think about what this year will be like.”
Llewellyn handed her thirty dollars. “Here. I know we’re vendors and we already paid our fee for the booth, but tonight we’re just here for fun, so I insist on paying an entrance fee.”
Evie ducked her head. “Thanks. We’re not sure what the news about the dragons will do to our clientele.”
“While I think people are staying closer to home, I wouldn’t worry too much. The real frenzy and fear haven’t started yet. They will, but it’s still early in the war and people aren’t sure what’s going to happen.” I shrugged. “But in a few months, I think attitudes will start to shift. I do know that my clients over the past month have begun to ask more troublesome questions, especially about whether their loved ones who are deceased are in danger of being turned into a ghoul or a zombie or one of the vrykos.”
Llew glanced at me. “I didn’t know that. I’ve been seeing an uptick in sales of protection charms, especially against ghosts, spirits, and all sorts of the undead.”
“I hope you’re bringing plenty of those to sell tomorrow,” Evie said.
Llew nodded. “Raven recommended that I do.” He glanced at the line forming behind us. “All right, we’re causing a backup, so we’ll go in and just poke around.”
Evie stamped our hands with a green pumpkin stamp. “You’re good to go. Tomorrow it will be a different color, different stamp, so drop by when you come in to set up your booth. The gates open at eleven, so I advise being here by at least ten.”
“We will,” Llew said as we headed through the gates.
* * *
The farm was ablaze with lights. Orange and purple twinkle lights were everywhere, and occasional old-fashioned gas lamps that looked like they were from the turn of the century—1900, not 2000—were conveniently placed around to illuminate the paths the women had created through the fair. They were modernized to be LED, though, and shone bright and clear.
To one side was a petting zoo. I leaned over the railings to look at the baby animals. From where I was standing, I could see a llama, three baby goats, a little piglet, a foal, a couple baby burros…and I had a feeling there were more animals behind the miniature barn that had been built to give the kids a chance to get away from scrutin
y if they became overwhelmed.
“I want a baby goat.” I waggled my finger at the nearest one as it kicked its heels.
“You have three ferrets and a gargoyle. You do not need a baby goat.”
“Well, it could eat the grass,” I said, glancing at Llew.
“Yeah, and your flowers, and your siding and everything else it could think of to get into. You may want a goat, but you certainly don’t need one.” He shook his head.
I sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. Kipa would flip if I came home with one.” I wondered what Raj would think. He’d probably have a blast with a goat, but I couldn’t trust him around small animals. He didn’t have a mean bone in his body, but he wasn’t aware of his own strength and he could be dangerous around small children or animals.
We wandered through the tents, stopping to read the schedule of events when we came to the food court. It smelled delicious and I glanced in the booths as we passed them, only to see several local caterers and restaurants had joined in. One in particular—a doughnut maker—was frying the dough and rolling the piping-hot pastries in cinnamon before pouring a thick maple glaze over them. They weren’t exactly maple bars, but close enough.
I held up a five-dollar bill. “Two, please.”
The girl behind the counter handed me my two pastries.
Llew stared at me. “How can you eat so much and keep your figure?”
“I’m one of the Ante-Fae. We have a tremendously high metabolism, higher than even the Fae, which is high enough. I can eat five times a day and still be hungry.” I took a bite out of the bar and immediately regretted it. “Ouch! Hot, hot, hot!” I said, trying to move the fried dough around in my mouth so it would cool off.
“I’m going to go check out our booth. You want to come with me?” he said, laughing.
“Nope, you go ahead. I want to wander around and get a feel for the place.” I felt like poking around the edges, and the rain was still holding off so it was a good crisp night for a walk. As I decided to visit the pumpkin patch, I paused and looked up. The moon was waxing, a couple days past first quarter, and it was hanging luminous in the sky.
Witching Time: A Wild Hunt Novel, Book 14 Page 5
