Wayward Secrets, page 7
Since there was no way to drive directly to the Fortune Tellers’ Triangle, I had to park in the west side parking lot, take the steps to the bottom of the ravine, and cut through the tunnel that ran beneath the two-lane highway. From there, the path through the woods was obvious. It had been worn and widened over the decades from hopeful visitors seeking to have their fortunes told or connect with a loved one who had passed.
We called it the Triangle because this bit of land was lined on three sides by the highway to the north, the creek to the southeast, and the driveway to Pine Time on the west. Set down from the road this way, I always worried the area would flood from snowmelt or heavy spring rains. They said they’d never had a problem, though.
At the end of the path, I came to a small clearing where the tellers’ colorful vardos were set in a crescent-moon formation. Signs indicated which teller each wagon belonged to and what her or his specialty was. Some read palms, some tea leaves, others did Tarot, still others preferred crystal balls. Lily Grace was the only teller who pulled energy directly from the person by holding her palms close to but never touching her customer’s palms. Table and chair sets were clustered about along with a few fire pits for when the temps were chilly. The tellers’ homes were tucked into the trees behind the vardos. Or so I’d been told. I’d never been back there.
I found Effie and Cybil waiting for me outside Cybil’s wagon, the one smack in the middle of all the others. It also had the biggest sign.
“About time you got here.” Cybil always felt her needs should be met before everyone else’s.
“I was at the circus. They’re having some trouble up there.”
“Well, we’re having trouble here,” she snapped.
Effie placed a hand on Cybil’s arm. “Why don’t you let me talk?” She turned to me and, in a voice that shook as much as her hands, said, “We can’t find Jola and Lily Grace.”
“Can’t find them?” I repeated.
“We’ve been calling and leaving messages for two days,” Effie informed. “No answer. No call back.”
“I saw Reeva yesterday,” I recalled. “She said she’d seen Jola yesterday morning. As for Lily Grace—”
“What about her?” Cybil demanded as if I was hiding something.
Knowing that fear was often disguised as anger, I spoke slowly, trying to calm her down.
“Lily Grace is a free spirit. You know that.” She was when I met her a year ago and had become even more of one since learning her entire family had been keeping secret after secret from her since she was a toddler. “She could be at Jola’s. Or her dad’s cottage. Or at Oren’s place. This would hardly be the first time she’s gone off without telling anyone. As for Jola—”
“Jola always returns our calls,” Cybil insisted, more worried than angry now. “She’s very responsible and knows we won’t ask her to call unless it’s important.”
I glanced between the two colorfully dressed grandmothers. “What’s so important?”
Cybil’s mouth opened, closed, and then she blurted, “We haven’t seen her in a while and want her to come over for dinner this week. Lily Grace too.”
Fires were being set off all over the circus and they were issuing a red alert for this?
“Did you tell her that’s why you wanted her to call?”
“No,” Cybil confessed.
At the same time, Effie insisted, “We do have senses about these types of things, you know.”
I sighed. “You’ve got me there. Do you have any proof that something’s wrong? Other than your senses and them not returning your calls. I can’t do a lot with that. Not even in Whispering Pines.”
“Nothing concrete, as you would say,” Cybil admitted.
“Have you gone over to Jola’s cottage?” I asked. “Or checked with Gabe? Or Oren?”
“We didn’t try Oren,” Cybil confessed, “but I talked with Gabe about an hour ago. He hasn’t seen them either.”
My instincts tingled a tiny bit at that. I didn’t really think anything was wrong but didn’t want to dismiss their fears either. “We know this isn’t unusual for Lily Grace. She does this kind of thing. It’s a little strange that Jola hasn’t followed up, but it is the beginning of the season, and she’s probably been busy getting Unity ready for more tourists.”
Both women agreed, reluctantly, with that.
“Keep trying Jola,” I continued. “If anyone knows where Lily Grace is, she should. Tell Jola it’s important that she call you back. If you don’t hear from her today, let’s say by three o’clock, let me know, and I’ll activate the call tree.”
“The call tree?” Effie clutched at her chest like she was having pains.
“Effie, please calm down,” I begged. “You’re scaring me. You’re looking pasty, and your breathing is labored. How about you sit?”
Cybil helped Effie to the closest chair and looked at her with an expression of compassion I’d never seen from her. She was not only worried about her granddaughters but concerned for her lifelong friend as well.
Since Rae had returned to Whispering Pines, many of the villagers had told me how devastated Effie had been when Rae left the village, but few of them realized Effie had asked Gran to send her away. That innocent request coupled with Rae’s guilt for her part in the accident resulted in a lifetime of debilitating depression for Rae. Not to mention a deeper descent into negativity for Gran and the village.
Once Effie calmed a little, I crouched next to her and took her soft, wrinkly hand in mine. “I’m not saying the girls are in danger. If we don’t hear from them soon, though, activating the call tree will be the fastest way to find out who has seen them. Let’s take this one step at a time.” I held Cybil’s gaze. “I need you both to remain calm. Okay?”
They murmured their agreement.
“Thank you, Jayne,” Effie said, her color and breathing better now. “I’ll keep calling Jola and Gabe.”
“I’m going over to Gabe’s house and then Jola’s,” Cybil announced. “I need to do something. I won’t be able to focus on anyone else’s future right now anyway. Come on, Effie. Let’s get you to your cottage—”
“No,” Effie objected. “I want to be in my vardo. The energy is strongest for me there.”
“I’ll put her in her comfy chair with a blanket over her legs,” Cybil told me. “She’ll be asleep before we get to the highway. That’s what she needs. A little sleep. Hopefully, I’ll be back before she wakes up.”
Once Cybil had tucked Effie into her wagon, she and I chatted as we made our way through the woods to the parking lot. I walked with Cybil to the car she shared with Effie and Lily Grace. I wondered if it was strange that Lily Grace was gone but the car was still here, but since Cybil didn’t say anything about it, I didn’t mention it.
“When Rae and Gabe agreed to come back,” Cybil stated, “Effie was initially more excited than I’d seen her in years. Then her emotions went on a rollercoaster ride. She was happy one minute and then afraid you’d say no the next. Then she was sure the other villagers would object.”
“I’m glad everything worked out,” I replied, “but I’m a little worried about Rae. I know you all thought you were protecting her, but she never got to confess her part in the accident or express her sorrow to Priscilla’s mother or the others here. Did you know Rae has been going up to the cemetery?”
“I didn’t. Why would she do that?” She answered her own question a half-second later. “To visit Priscilla’s grave.”
“And Velma’s. Confession is good for the soul, they say. I think that’s what she’s doing, confessing and apologizing to them, but it may be too late to help Rae’s broken spirit.”
This turned out to be one of the rare occasions when Cybil didn’t have a comeback for me. I couldn’t tell if she agreed, but she didn’t argue.
“Let me know what you find at Jola’s house.”
“I will,” she promised. “If she’s not there, I’ll stop at Unity.”
I returned to the station to see if Reed had come back from the circus yet. He hadn’t, so I checked in via walkie-talkie.
“Reed here.”
“Secure station, please.”
We often moved up two channels on the talkies to keep the villagers from hearing things they didn’t need to. Although, there were likely a few that found us and listened in. There had been a lot of chatter on the public channel this morning. Folks were going to start asking questions if they heard much more.
“How’s it going up there?” I asked.
“I’m just about to wrap up. I found some things to show you, so I’ll meet you at the station.”
“Sounds good. I’ll do a quick patrol of the commons. I should be back by the time you get here.”
Despite the sun and clear blue sky, a strange feeling settled over me as I walked along the Fairy Path. Maybe it was starting the season with problems at the circus. That’s where it all started last year with Berlin’s death, and none of us wanted a repeat of last year. While the fires were a big reason for concern, and we needed to figure out who had started them, that’s not what was bothering me. A few seconds later, I paused in front of The Twisty Skein to say hi to Ruby and the answer came to me.
“Where’s your furry sidekick?” she asked. “I’m not used to seeing you without Meeka.”
I threw my hands in the air. “That’s got to be what’s bugging me. I’m not used to being without her. Tripp took her on a hike this morning. He said he’d drop her off at the station afterward, but they must have something to take care of at Pine Time. Or my boyfriend decided to keep my K-9 for the day.”
He did say he’d drop her off, didn’t he?
“I heard about Reeva’s new classes for the season,” I told her. “Anything new planned in the crafty world?”
“Well,” she began in a way that told me I’d be there for a minute, “drawing and painting are my most popular classes. I’ll run those summer through fall. There’s always basic knitting and crocheting. I’ve been playing around with floral pressing and preservation recently. Preserved flowers are great in all sorts of projects. That will be more of a demonstration than a class. I’ll take students through the steps, but it takes days before pressed flowers are ready to use. Of course, there’s always a waiting list for the looms.” She tapped her forefinger against her chin. “Pendant making is always a popular class.”
“The silver clay class? Rosalyn and I loved that one.” We took the class a few months ago. She pressed a tiny fern leaf into hers. On mine, I drew a rudimentary pine tree, which was the tree equivalent of a stick person.
“Good to know,” Ruby noted.
“I’d say you’ve got a busy summer ahead of you, but everyone here does, don’t they? Are you looking to hire someone too? Both Reeva and Morgan are.”
“I say no every year,” Ruby mused, “and by Litha in late June, I’m regretting that decision. Who knows? Maybe this year I’ll bring someone on to stock the shelves. I love working with the customers, so that task is all mine.” She gave a happy wiggle. “Do you know anyone?”
I immediately thought of Keiko Shen. “I might. I’ll let you know.”
Morgan had first dibs on Keiko, of course, but I stopped at Hearth & Cauldron to let Reeva know I might have a part-timer for her. We stood in the kitchen area where we could talk while Reeva kept an eye on her customers. The more I told her about how eager Keiko was to live and work in the village, the more excited Reeva got. Then I remembered one key detail that might be a deal breaker.
“She was sort of close with Yasmine when she was here,” I said gently.
Reeva’s spine straightened at the mention of her daughter’s name. “Last spring? Not that Yasmine was here any other time.”
“Keiko was staying at the campground, too, and tried to help Yasmine as she got sicker and sicker. I’m sorry to stir that up.”
Reeva lifted her chin regally. “Yasmine couldn’t have been more my daughter if I’d been the one to carry her for nine months. Raising her was a privilege and taught me that the blood running through veins makes relatives but has little to do with making families. Look at Flavia and me. We’re as different as summer is from winter.” She shook her head. “My point being, you talking about Yasmine only stirs up memories, and I already think of her every day.”
My heart warmed. “Would you like to meet Keiko? I didn’t say anything about you or Yasmine to her. I only said I knew of another shop looking for help.”
A woman with questions about the gorgeous leather notebooks, hand-tooled with the words My Kitchen Grimoire in a witchy font, interrupted Reeva’s reply.
“They’re blank.” The woman flipped through pages to prove her claim. “Aren’t grimoires meant to hold magical spells?”
“A grimoire is meant to be filled by the witch who possesses it,” Reeva explained. “Like a journal.”
“Oh, well, I’m not a witch.” The woman turned to walk away.
Before she could, Reeva asked, “Do you cook or bake?”
The woman smiled. “I’ve been the baker in my family since I was a young girl.”
Reeva touched her arm. “Me too. We add specific ingredients in specific amounts to a bowl. Then we mix it all together, whisper a few words of encouragement, and a little while later, pull something wonderful out of the oven. That sounds magical to me.” She smiled and nodded her head. “A bit like a witch with her cauldron, don’t you think?”
The woman’s eyes took on a faraway look, like she was remembering her own forays in the kitchen, and clutched the book tightly to her chest. “I’m going to keep looking, but I think this book is meant to be mine.”
“I think you’re right,” Reeva replied with a wink and turned back to me. “If this girl, Keiko, is planning to stay in Whispering Pines, she and I will meet at some point. There is no sense putting that off or trying to disguise the events of the past. Please tell her that I’m Yasmine’s mother, and if she wants to meet me, she’s welcome anytime.”
I promised I would, and as I made my way to the commons area, my interaction with Reeva played over and over in my mind. She could come off as stiff and unyielding at times, but I’d learned that was only on the outside. Reeva had been dealt a rough lot in life. From what I’d read in Gran’s journals and heard from others who’d been here from the start, Flavia made Reeva’s childhood miserable. So miserable, leaving the village for twenty years to raise her husband and sister’s baby was better than staying. And the nastiness picked right back up when she returned last year.
“Sheriff Jayne?”
I blinked to find myself outside Shoppe Mystique with Willow waving her hands at me. “Sorry. Hi.”
“Good Goddess, you were a million miles away. Are you all right?”
“Yeah, just stuck in a loop.” I inhaled fresh, flower-scented air deep into my lungs. That revived my brain. “How’s everything going here today?”
“Couldn’t be better. It was a busy but manageable morning. Briar should be here soon to help with the afternoon shift. If this season is like the others, afternoons require more than one witch. Morning customers are generally more . . . mature. The rowdier, more demanding crowd descends in the afternoon.”
“I’m glad you all were able to work out a schedule. Let Morgan and Briar know I might have a helper for you.” I told her about Keiko.
Willow’s lips pursed. “I remember her. Determined to learn dark magic, or black magic as she called it, to undo some things in her life.”
“That’s her. She’s changed, though. Whatever Morgan said to her, it had an impact.”
“Wonderful news. I hope Morgan approves her.”
I finished the rounds of the commons—happy to learn that the day in this area of the village, unlike the circus and Triangle, had been calm thus far—and then returned to the station. There, I found Reed in my office with what looked like pieces of a bomb spread out over the table.
Chapter Ten
“It’s not a bomb,” Reed assured when he saw me in the doorway.
“Did I ask that out loud?” I didn’t think I had.
He stepped away from the table, hands held up, and spread his fingers wide as though casting a spell over the items. “Everything’s separated. We should be fine.”
“Should be?”
I looked from him to the collection. The bits and pieces were mostly paper or fibrous products. Nothing electronic or explosive, so not a bomb. It reminded me of walking into my middle-school science class. The table at the front of the room would look like this, with parts everywhere. Mr. Borkowski would clap his hands once and announce, “We’re going to make something today.”
The classroom faded into memory as I blinked at my deputy. “Explain, please.”
“Remember the cigarette, matchbook, and lighter fluid Cordick used?”
“I remember.” He placed the lit cigarette near the match heads. When the cigarette burned far enough, the matches ignited and lit a line of lighter fluid that led to whatever he wanted to destroy.
“This is similar,” he explained, a little geeky-giddy about the discovery. “One of the Squad members found this one sitting near the back entrance to the big top tent and another at a side entrance.”
“The big top?” I gasped. “That would have been a season-ending disaster.”
All the equipment inside. The bleachers. Carnies probably practicing in there.
“Could have been,” Reed agreed. “Creed told me they spray a fire retardant on the canvas. There was one other of these little firebombs near the main entrance that did light, but they caught it shortly after it burst into flame. Only a bit of the canvas got singed and the flame extinguished on its own. Then they found these two. We figure when he learned his device wouldn’t do anything to the canvas, the kid didn’t bother setting off the others.”
“The kid? You mean that boy I saw watching us?”
“Yep. He ran off into the woods. The Squad will catch him and bring him here.”
“So you haven’t talked with him yet. You’re not positive he’s our bug this time.”
