Swain tipped the licorice box in Luke’s direction. Luke shook his head and Swain shrugged, then picked a licorice out of the box and popped it in his mouth.
“
That
, I’m not entirely sure about,” he said as he chewed. “I figure it’s marked in some way so that one would know it’s not just an everyday mortar and pestle.”
Jolene shifted the carnelian-filled towel she was holding to her head into her left hand and picked up her cell phone with her right. “I can text Brody to see if I can get a list of the items stolen from the museum. Maybe there will be something obvious, but I think we need something more specific to go on that just that it's 'different'.”
“Maybe there’s a clue to that in the epitaph on Ezra’s gravestone, too,” Celeste suggested.
“The bottom line?” Johanna asked.
“Maybe,” Celeste answered. “Too bad we don’t know what it said.”
“We could ask Thaddeus,” Fiona suggested. “He might remember, or maybe he has some paperwork from when the stone was engraved?”
“I just wish I could remember. I
should
be able to.” Jolene sounded defeated.
“You’re probably exhausted,” Morgan said. “In fact, I’m pretty tired myself. We should all get to bed early tonight. I want to get started first thing tomorrow.”
“Good idea. With all the excitement in the graveyard and at the church, we forgot to stop by
Sticks and Stones
.” Fiona glanced out the window at the dark night. “It’s too late now, but we need to go first thing tomorrow. We should be wearing those in case things get cagey with Bly.”
Johanna nodded. “You girls better make that a priority. Those amulets could save your lives.”
“That’s right,” Luke said. “You girls need the protection.”
Jolene let out a loud sigh. “Especially since my unique gifts don’t seem to be working. I can’t even defend us against a child.”
“Well, at least we have this gizmo now.” Fiona pointed to the mica mirror.
“I was wondering what that thing was,” Luke said. “What does it do?”
Morgan explained how the ancient object’s surface was mica and it would reflect energy back at the sender. “So basically, whatever you try to do to your opponent ends up happening to you.”
Luke’s lips flattened into a thin line. “Wait a minute, are you saying Swain was able to redirect what little paranormal powers you have back at you
and
he had a gun? How did you guys manage to defeat him?”
Swain swallowed his licorice hard. “That is rather embarrassing.”
“It was luck on our part,” Morgan said. “Celeste took a big chance and chopped him with a karate kick.”
“Surely a big guy like Swain could have taken her out?” Luke glanced at Swain’s broad shoulders and muscular arms.
“Probably,” Celeste said. “But he hesitated and that gave me the opening I needed to tackle him. Then Morgan and I jumped on him and we tied him up.”
Morgan’s eyes narrowed. “Hey, why
did
you hesitate, anyway?”
Swain flushed and dipped his head. “My mother told me never to hit a woman, so when it came down to it, I couldn’t fight back.”
Luke burst out laughing. Well, I guess chivalry was your downfall.” He gave Swain a friendly punch and Morgan’s heart lifted at the show of camaraderie. Luke had been understandably aloof when they’d brought Swain home and she was glad to see his frozen demeanor was thawing.
Luke’s job was to be suspicious of strangers and to protect the girls from them, but Morgan knew in her gut that Swain was not a threat. Not only that, but Belladonna curled up and purring in Swains lap was the only reference he needed. The cat was an extraordinary judge of character.
“About your Mom …” Johanna turned her concerned, amber eyes on Swain. “I think we should bring her here. It can’t be good for her to be on that boat. We have plenty of room.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Swain looked around at them.
“It might be smart,” Luke said. “Bly is going to find out that you guys are partnered up now and he might retaliate. In fact, I’m a bit surprised he hasn’t done something already. Your boat is out in the cove unprotected, like a sitting duck.”
A look of alarm passed over Swain’s face. “I hadn’t thought about that.” He turned to Johanna. “But I don’t want to intrude.”
“Nonsense.” Johanna waved her hand dismissively. “It will give me something to do.”
“Okay.” Swain glanced around tentatively. “But she is very sick and has a private nurse.”
“We know all about sick,” Johanna assured him. “And there’s plenty of room for the nurse, too. Plus, you won’t have to worry about her being safe if she’s here. We have lots of protection. You can focus on finding the relic.”
“Well, that settles it then.” Swain brushed his hands together. “Sounds like this is going to be a great partnership.”
“Don’t get too excited,” Luke said. “Now that Bly and Overton know you guys are working together, they’re sure to want to knock you all out of commission. We need to find that relic fast before someone else ends up dead.”
Chapter Fifteen
Fiona stood in the doorway of
Sticks and Stones
and basked in the familiar sights, smells and sounds. The cottage, which had been in her family for centuries, had been one of her favorite places since childhood. When she’d grown up, she and Morgan had turned it into a shop with Morgan’s herbal remedies on one side and Fiona’s healing crystal jewelry on the other.
The cottage was off the beaten path. It was the off-season now with no tourists about, so the cottage was blanketed in silence. A single bird tweeted in the barren trees outside as Fiona breathed in the earthy smell of herbs and old wood.
The morning light filtered in through the window, illuminating the hand-hewn pine counter that doubled as Morgan’s work area and the place where they rang up purchases.
Fiona started toward her workbench on the far end of the room, eliciting a creak from the dry wood floor as she crossed.
Morgan rushed in behind her, slamming the door shut against a gust of cold air and snow. “Gosh, it’s cold out.”
“And in here.” Fiona’s words came out in a cloud of condensation. “We should turn the thermostat up.”
Morgan did as she was told. Noquitt was a summer tourist destination. That’s when the girls did most of their shop business. In the winter, they came to the shop infrequently to fill the few orders they got from their regulars. They kept the heat on low when they weren’t there, a habit ingrained in their thrifty, Maine Yankee blood.
The heat whooshed on. Fiona pulled off her gloves and rubbed her hands together as she surveyed her workbench. She’d been there just last week, working on the amulets and another project for herself—a sterling silver dragonfly necklace with iridescent golden-yellow citrine wings.
She didn’t know what had prompted her to make the necklace—the idea had just come to her. Once it was stuck in her head, she had to get the piece designed. She pushed the piece aside and sat down at that table. There was no time for that now. She had to focus on the amulets.
“I feel like we should be out looking for the relic, but I do have some customer orders and the amulets are important.” Morgan, who was now standing in front of her tall apothecary chest looking at the glass jars of herbs, echoed Fiona’s thoughts.
“I know. I’ll try to hurry … I just have a few adjustments to make.” Fiona plugged in her soldering iron and rummaged in the desk for the tools she would need.
“I hope the others get Swain’s mother settled at home okay.” Morgan pulled a glass jar filled with brown twigs off the shelf.
“I left some carnelians with instructions at home so they can start applying them right away,” Fiona said. “It will be strange to have guests, but I think Mom was glad to have someone to ‘mother’ in the house. Since she’s been home, we’ve been the ones mothering her and I don’t think she likes it very much.”
Johanna’s seven-year imprisonment under Dr. Bly’s hand had left her almost lifeless. Since she’d been home, she had made enormous improvements, but it was true that girls had been a bit overprotective and Fiona had noticed her mother getting more and more aggravated with them as her health improved.
“Another reason I wanted to come here this morning is that I felt like Jolene could use a morning to sleep in,” Morgan said.
“That accident took a lot out of her and she hasn’t rested. It must be emotionally draining for her to not have her paranormal gifts working.” Fiona pressed her lips together. “Of course, it would be a lot less stressful on her if my shotgun rocks actually worked.”
“You just need to believe and they will,” Morgan said.
Fiona glanced at the dragonfly necklace. That’s just what her father had always told her when she was a little girl. She just had to believe. The memory of her father, who had died years ago, brought a smile to her lips. He had been good with rocks, too. That’s what had gotten Fiona interested in them. She could remember many afternoons spent with him going over the different types of crystals and their special properties.
And the dragonflies … her gaze stole over to the necklace again. There always seemed to be dragonflies around when she’d been with her father. It was almost as if he’d had a way of attracting them. A few times, he’d joked that a dragonfly should have been his family crest.
Maybe that was what had prompted her to make the necklace. Old memories surfacing.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the door opening, which surprised her. She didn’t think any shoppers would have been coming out this way.
A young woman with wavy, strawberry blonde hair that hung to her waist came through the door. A gust of wind swirled in with her, curling around her ankles and depositing a pile of snow on the floor as she turned to shut the door behind her.
“
Meow!
” Belladonna slipped through the crack of the door just before the woman closed it. The cat looked up at the woman, her ice-blue eyes narrowing to luminescent slits. “
Hiss!
”
Belladonna hopped sideways, away from the surprised woman, then ran under a chair on the far side of the room where she crouched and stared out at the room.
“Sorry.” Fiona exchanged a look with Morgan and she knew her sister was wondering the same thing. How the heck did the cat get here?
“I don’t know what is wrong with that cat.” Morgan apologized. “Can we help you?”
“I hope so.” The woman looked warily over at Belladonna as she walked forward, giving the cat a wide berth.
Something niggled Fiona’s memory—the woman looked familiar. “Do we know each other?”
The woman smiled. “Yes, I’m Wendy North. Thaddeus Finch’s health aide. We met at the nursing home.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Fiona said. “I didn’t recognize you with your hair down like that. You look different. What can we do for you?”
“Thaddeus told me about your shop and I thought I’d come in and see what you had. I’m looking for a necklace.”
“Oh. Well, I use a variety of crystals. I can make pretty much anything you want.” Fiona waved her hand over at the jewelry case where various items were on display.
Wendy narrowed storm-cloud gray eyes at the case. Her lips pressed together as she scanned the rows of jewelry. She shook her head. “No, I don’t see anything that appeals to me here.”
“Oh, is there something in particular you are looking for?” Fiona asked.
Wendy’s hair swirled about her upper body as she swung around to look at Fiona’s workspace. She pointed at the amulets that Fiona was working on. “Something like that would be perfect.”
“That’s obsidian,” Fiona said.
“They’re lovely. Are they for sale?” Wendy asked.
“These particular ones are spoken for, but I might have something in stock. If not, I can certainly make you one.” Fiona walked over the old, oak map chest where she kept her stock and rummaged in the chest, opening drawer after drawer to look for an obsidian necklace.
“So, how is Thaddeus today?” Morgan asked from the other side of the shop.
“Oh, he’s okay. He has his good and bad days.” Wendy waved her hand and a pile of papers on the table near the chair Belladonna was crouching under fluttered off and floated to the floor. Belladonna let out a low guttural growl and a hiss. “I’m afraid you can’t put much stock in what he says, though, so the answers he gave you the other day might not be true.”
“Oh, we know about that. We’re just old friends of the family trying to engage him to get him to talk about things he’s interested in,” Morgan said. Fiona knew this wasn’t quite true, but she figured her sister didn’t want Wendy knowing the real reason they were visiting Finch.
Fiona opened the last drawer. A beautiful obsidian necklace with a large stone lay right on top. “How about this one?” She turned toward Wendy, the black stone sparking off the light as it twirled from a silver chain.
“Very nice. I’ll take it.” Wendy reached out and snatched the necklace from Fiona, then swirled her way over to the cash register. She paid Morgan, who put the necklace in a gift bag.
At the door, Wendy turned back to face them. “Your shop is lovely. Thanks for taking the time to dig out the necklace for me.”
“Thank you,” Fiona said. “Say ‘hi’ to Thaddeus for us.”