Be Careful What You Witch For (A Family Fortune Mystery) (18 page)

29

I returned to the reception without trouble. Mom and Vi didn’t even suspect I had been gone, but Seth kept eyeing me as if I had excluded him from a fun adventure. Dad had spent enough years with Vi and my mother to have adopted a low level of curiosity as to the activities of his family members. He took the keys back in silence and nodded pleasantly while sipping his drink.

By the time we got home, had walked the dogs, and provided yet another “routine” treat for them, I was ready for bed. I fell asleep almost immediately and didn’t dream.

Friday morning I was well rested and ready to start on a new angle. Bea had seemed so proper when I met her the other night. I was surprised to see her with an angry anti-Wiccan group, especially since her daughter was a member of Rafe’s coven. What I had seen earlier when she was spying on Skye (and we were all spying on Lucan) had me wondering what was going on at the Paxton house. Plus, if Seth was going to be gallivanting with one or both of the sisters, I decided I should have a talk with Bea.

After the usual morning dog-walking and breakfast, I reminded Seth that my dad was going to pick him up at lunchtime, made sure he had homework to do, and set out on my own to find Bea Paxton. Diana had told me she was a preschool teacher at Covenant of Grace Church, which was located between Crystal Haven and Grand Rapids. I Googled it and got directions.

The building itself was gorgeous, and old. It was made of stone with a beautiful bell tower and stained glass. It reminded me of something that would be a tourist stop in Europe. But the growing congregation had needed to expand, and a large, utilitarian, rectangular addition jutted out of the back like a tumor. I wondered how they had gotten it past the historical society. The parking lot was in the rear by the new addition. According to the signs, the offices and a small chapel were in the old building while the classrooms and large sanctuary were in the new. I didn’t pay much attention to such things, but I did know that this was one of those megachurches sweeping the Midwest, with multimedia church services and a charismatic preacher. I walked around to the front of the building and up the steps to enter what was originally the front of the church leading into the chapel. Hand-lettered flyers announced the preschool was “now enrolling” and the women’s group would sell candied nuts throughout the month of November. By following helpful arrows I found the offices. I wanted to be sure I could go to the preschool area without sending up an alarm.

The woman at the desk was about my mother’s age but much more padded and wearing a 1970s-era prairie dress. It had a ruffled collar and her reading glasses rested on her ample chest. A nameplate on her desk read:
GLADYS
.

“May I help you?” she said.

“I’m Clyde Fortune. I was hoping to speak with Bea Paxton if she’s available.”

“Are you interested in enrolling your child in the preschool? We have openings.”

“Well, I—”

“I know it’s hard to answer that until you’ve seen the place. You know the preschool is only open Monday, Wednesday, and Friday?”

I opened my mouth to answer, but she kept going.

“The church is closed on Tuesdays and Thursdays unless there’s an emergency. Are you new in town? I haven’t seen you in services, but we’re growing so fast, I don’t get a chance to meet all the newcomers.”

“Not really, I—”

“Just getting back to your roots now that you have a child?” she interrupted again. “It happens all the time. People wander and explore and then they come home when it’s time to start a family. We’re very family oriented around here.”

“You see—”

“You aren’t wearing a ring. I assume you’re married, if you have a child?” Her tone became frosty with the last comment and I decided the truth wasn’t something this woman wanted to hear.

“I . . . was gardening . . . and forgot to put it back on.”

“Oh, your husband must be very tolerant. You should be careful—a pretty young woman like yourself. There’s no telling what kind of trouble you might attract if the men don’t know you’re taken.” She shook a finger at me, but smiled.

I scanned the room for hidden cameras. Surely she wasn’t real?

“Can you check on Mrs. Paxton, please?”

Gladys nodded and slipped her glasses onto her nose. She ran her finger down a row of phone extensions that had been taped to her telephone.

“I’ll try her in the classroom. They go outside for exercise around ten thirty. I might just catch her before that.”

She picked up the receiver and winked at me, I suppose to indicate our partnership in locating Bea. She covered the receiver and said, “How old is your little one?”

For a moment I didn’t understand what she meant and then realized she was talking about my nonexistent preschooler.

The only “little one” I had was Baxter and he almost outweighed me.

“He’s three,” I said and immediately felt guilty.

“Such a delightful age—” She broke off as someone on the other end picked up the phone.

“Bea, do you have time to speak with a potential preschool parent?” Gladys nodded to herself while listening to Bea’s response.

“Okay, I’ll let her know.” Gladys replaced the receiver in the cradle and smiled at me.

“She said you can meet her out on the playground. They’re just getting their coats on to go outside.” She pointed in the direction of the new addition.

“Thank you,” I said and backed out of the room. Something about Gladys made me want to keep my eye on her.

*   *   *

I found Bea
and her small charges in a tiny play area surrounded by a metal fence. Plastic climbing structures took up most of the space and the children swarmed the pieces and fought for turns on the seesaw.

“Oh, it’s you; you don’t have a preschooler, do you?” Bea said as I approached the fence.

“Sorry, Gladys just assumed I was a parent and then I didn’t really get a chance to convince her I just wanted to talk to you.”

Bea nodded as if Gladys’s habit of conducting her own conversations was well-known.

“It’s just as well. The children are cranky today; it wouldn’t have set a good example for a new parent. What can I do for you?”

I decided to skip over the preliminaries and get straight to the issue. The swarming mass of small people was making me nervous.

“I saw you at Rafe Godwin’s memorial reception last night.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she took a step back.

“I didn’t see you there. But, yes, I came with some of the members of the congregation.” She crossed her arms.

“This may seem like it’s none of my business, but why were you there protesting when your daughter was a member of his coven?”

“Shh!” Bea looked back at her class to see if any of them had heard. “We don’t talk about things like covens and witches in front of the children. And you’re right. It’s none of your business,” she hissed.

I lowered my voice. “Does your church know about Skye?”

She hesitated and held my gaze for a moment. Then her shoulders relaxed. “Some do, but most don’t. My husband and I have been hoping she’ll give it up and come back to the church. Especially now that . . .
he
’s dead.”

“You think that Skye was only a member of his . . . group . . . because he was the leader?”

“Skye is a very impressionable girl. She has romantic ideas. I thought she might realize her mistake now that he’s gone, but she seems as committed as ever to this . . . cult.”

I was starting to feel like it takes a cult member to know one when one of the kids came up to us, crying. He appeared to have fallen and scraped up his hand.

“It’s okay, Aiden, we’ll get some ice for it when we go inside.”

Aiden sniffled and ran back to his friends.

“I really have to get back to the children.”

She turned and waded into the waist-high crowd, who attached themselves to her while lodging complaints and begging for more time outside.

I turned to go and looked down to see a short blonde girl staring at me with her thumb in her mouth.

“Hello,” I said.

“Your eyes are weird,” she said around her wet digit.

“Um, thank you?”

“Do you have a kid coming here?”

I shook my head.

“Does your kid have weird eyes, too?”

“No, I don’t—”

“Tiffany! Come along and get in line,” Bea shouted.

The little girl waved with her free hand and skipped over to the rest of the group, but I was sure her normal eyes followed me all the way to the parking lot.

30

I backed out of the parking spot and drove to the road. Left would take me back home; right would take me toward Rafe’s house. I felt like there was more to see in his house and the likelihood that I would be interrupted by Mac was low. I decided to take a chance and drive over there for one more look in his office. I hoped to retrieve the family tree I had seen if the police hadn’t discovered the secret drawer.

In the three days since I’d been there, the house had gone from abandoned to desolate. Leaves had piled on the porch, the police tape flapped in the wind. I parked along the curb and walked up the front steps. The key was still over the door, where we’d left it last time. I was just about to slide it into the lock when I heard a distinct
thump
from inside the house. I hesitated. Who could be in there?

I turned and looked up and down the street. A navy Suburban and a rusted-out silver Subaru sat by the curb a few houses down, but the street was otherwise deserted. No cop cars to be seen. It was someone else. Obviously, it wasn’t Dylan or Diana. Diana had told me she was spending the whole day at the store catching up on paperwork. The only other person I could think of was Skye. Turning back toward the door, I leaned forward, listening for more sounds. All was quiet. Maybe it had just been the wind making the house creak. But I hadn’t heard a creak, I’d heard a thump. The last time I’d stood hesitating on a porch, someone had died.

I shoved the key in the lock and opened the door.

“Skye?” I said as I pushed open the door.

I heard a footstep in the office. Then Morgan stood in the doorway. At least I thought it was Morgan. Her dark hair was pulled into a ponytail. She wore minimal makeup, and was garbed in medical scrubs.

“Morgan?”

“Clyde, what are you doing here?”

“Um, picking up something for Diana,” I said. “She left a book here and wanted me to come get it for her.”

Morgan’s eyes narrowed. “That’s what I’m doing, too. Rafe must have borrowed a lot of books.” She put her hands on her hips.

“How did you get in?” I was still processing her new look and trying to make sense of someone else being in Rafe’s house.

“Rafe and I
had
been very close.” Her lips curled into a smile I recognized. Even without the makeup, black clothing, and high-heeled boots she exuded menace. “I never returned my key.”

“Are you a nurse?” I asked, gesturing to her clothes.

“Physical therapist. I’m on my lunch break.”

“I had no idea. I thought you sold daggers and spell kits.”

She snorted. “There’s not enough demand for those items to keep me clothed and fed. I just do that as a hobby.”

“Well, did you find the book you needed?”

“Um, yes.” She darted back into the office and reappeared with a small volume clutched in her hands. Short nails, no polish, to go with her new look. And I saw the charm bracelet with only six charms, not seven. “Here it is. Do you want some help finding Diana’s book?” She held my gaze and smiled, letting me know she saw through my bluff.

“Thanks, but I don’t want to keep you.” Now that I knew I was right, and she had lied about being at the ceremony, I was less comfortable being alone with her.

“I hope you find what you’re looking for.” She took a step closer and held my gaze.

“I’m just looking for a book.” I took a step back and scanned the room for anything I could use as a weapon.

“Okay.” She crossed her arms. “You should talk to Lucan about this book you need. He knows more about Rafe than he likes to admit.”

She brushed past me and went out the front door.

I took a deep breath. Even in nurse’s scrubs she made all the hairs on my neck stand on end.

I walked into the office and stood there, trying to get a sense of anything different from last time. Of course, since then both the police and Morgan had been through. I pulled open the secret drawer where I had found the family tree—gone. The will was also missing. I hoped the police had taken it for safekeeping, but worried that someone else had grabbed it. And Morgan was at the top of that list.

*   *   *

I spent another
hour going through the documents in Rafe’s messy office and found nothing of interest. He had an enormous collection of Wiccan books and volumes of witchcraft history, but very little in the way of personal documents. I wished I had taken the family tree when I’d had the chance.

I drove back to my mother’s place and found Seth, Dad, Mom, and Vi working with the pendulum again. Well, Mom, Vi, and Seth were working with the pendulum. Dad was sitting at the far end of the dining room table with the newspaper held up as a shield. Baxter gave me his usual sloppy greeting and snorted when I didn’t offer any treats. Tuffy hopped on his hind legs, ran in a circle, and then went to lie down in the corner.

Seth grinned. “I taught him to do that. It’s better than barking.”

“Where have you been all morning?” Vi asked.

“I had a couple of errands,” I said.

“You missed lunch,” Mom said. “Let me get you something.” She put the pendulum back in its bag, for which I was grateful, and headed into the kitchen.

“Did your errands involve finding out anything about the case?” Vi asked.

“I went to talk to Bea Paxton,” I said.

“Faith’s mom? Why?” Seth asked.

“She was there with the protesters last night.”

Seth nodded. “Yeah, Faith says her mom is always protesting something with that church gang.”

“When do you have all these conversations with Faith?” I said.

“We text. Sometimes.” Seth didn’t meet my eyes.

“Here you go,” Mom said. She carried a sandwich and a mug of tea, which she placed in front of me.

“Thanks, Mom.”

She sat across the table from me.

“So, tell us. Did you find out anything on your ‘errands’?” Mom used air quotes for “errands.”

I shook my head. “Not really.” I told them about meeting with Bea and the strange vibe I got there. But it felt more like excessive conservatism than anything threatening. I ended by saying, “I may not agree with their beliefs, but they have a right to them.”

“They may have a right to them but they should leave everyone else alone.” Vi picked up her knitting and viciously stabbed at the stitches.

“That’s right, Vi,” Mom said. “You don’t see the Wiccans picketing their church, do you?” I was surprised by this since my mom had never been a big Wiccan supporter. Maybe after witnessing the fracas at the memorial she had changed her mind.

“Bea doesn’t approve of Skye’s choice,” I said, “but what parent agrees with everything their kid does?” Mom snorted and nodded. Dad rattled his newspaper.

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, I told them about my encounter with Morgan at Rafe’s house.

“Do you think she took the will and the family tree?” Seth asked.

I shrugged. “It’s possible, but I don’t know why she would want them.”

“She’s a strange one,” Vi said, darkly.

“She told you to talk to Lucan?” Dad asked. “Do they even know each other?”

“They were both in Rafe’s coven until Rafe kicked her out,” I said.

“What does Diana know about that coven?” Vi asked. “Seems like there was an awful lot of drama going on.”

“I’ll ask her when I see her next. I don’t know how much she can tell us. She tried to stay out of that sort of thing. It’s not good for business to take sides.”

Dad nodded. “She’s done a good job with that store. Much better than her father ever did with his used books.”

“That’s true, Frank.” Mom smiled in his direction. “Want to come for dinner tonight, Clyde?”

“I can’t, but can Seth hang out here tonight?” I asked.

“Of course.” Mom turned to Seth. “Do you want to sleep over, Seth?”

Seth lifted a shoulder and let it drop. “Sure.”

“What are you doing?” Vi asked. “Are you going to follow Lucan? I’ll go with you. I think we need to keep an eye on him.”

“I’m going out . . . with a friend.”

“Who? Diana, Alex?” Vi leaned forward.

“No, it’s . . .”

Seth interrupted. “It’s Tom, isn’t it?” He tilted his head and lifted both eyebrows. His less-than-subtle cue that he was going to cover for me.

I smiled and didn’t respond.

Seth rolled his eyes. “I don’t need a babysitter so you can go out with your
boy
friend.”

“He’s not her boyfriend,” Vi said. Then, almost to herself, she said, “At least, I hope not.”

“I could use some help with the computer, Seth. Maybe we could look at your math homework again,” Dad said. Dad didn’t know what he was covering for, but jumped into the fray.

“Yeah, okay,” Seth said.

“Where are you going, Clyde?” Mom asked.

“Just out to dinner. No big deal.” I pushed away from the table to end the conversation. I said good-bye and headed toward the front door, but I could feel Vi’s inquisitive stare follow me out.