Every Witch Way But Dead Read online

  “No, I don’t think I was living out here at the time. I used to live on the other end of the Island,” I said as I bit into the whole wheat bread with turkey and asiago cheese.

  “You really floored me when you told me about Rita.” He looked down at his hands, which nervously twisted the sandwich wrapper.

  I nodded. “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean for it to upset you.”

  “I know you didn’t. Anyhow, change of subject… When your truck was damaged, that was the same statement that was carved into Sally Shaw’s, right?” he questioned me, always the cop. “Go to Hell Witch?”

  “Yes, it was. Which is why I think maybe he’s after me,” I said, trying to decipher what mysteries hid behind those unbelievably blue eyes. He was not so easy to read today. “Or Ronnie.”

  “Your vehicles look similar in the dark, it’s possible the assailant mistook your truck for Sally’s. She was here that night, wasn’t she?” He bit into his lunch.

  “Yes, she was. Ronnie drives a black Volvo, so I don’t think that had anything to do with her.”

  “Whoever’s after Mrs. Arthur knows her vehicle.”

  “How can you be certain?” I asked.

  “Trust me. I can’t say more than that.”

  “Gotcha.”

  “You also had that altercation with the Born Agains?”

  “Boy, you did your homework.”

  “It’s the job.”

  I detected a slight twang in his speech pattern. After all the conversations we’d had, I hardly noticed.

  I smiled, sipping the clove-flavored tea. “So, where are you originally from?”

  He stopped and smiled, deep dimples engraved on either side of his alluring grin. “Most people don’t pick up on the accent. It’s been so long. Arkansas’s where I was born. I spent most of my childhood on a farm. I moved up north when I was seventeen, after my mother died. My father’s still down there, he’s retired.” He took another bite as he handed me a napkin. “So, you said Sally started dating a Jehovah? Joseph Carver?” He redirected the conversation back on track.

  “Mmm,” I mumbled, with a mouthful of sandwich, wiping the mayonnaise off my chin. Nice Angelica, I thought, you can’t even manage to keep the food in your mouth.

  He sipped his tea, which was iced. “Maybe the Jehovah’s were trying to dissuade her from seeing him. I assume she was a witch, too?”

  “Yes, she is—was. That’s so out of character for them, though, and rather extreme. I mean of the two, the Born Agains are much more fanatical. I did some research on my own about them. You don’t really think the Jehovah’s are after me?”

  “They did throw a brick and break your window. I don’t know. You never should underestimate people, you never know what they’ll do. All it takes is one whacko to act on his own. Sally was seeing, how many guys?” He was uneasy about something, but I couldn’t put my psychic finger on it.

  “Two that I’m aware of. I just recently got to know her,” I reminded him. “Now that you mentioned it, there is one of the Jehovah’s, an older man, Ethan, who seemed to get really bothered by Joseph having anything to do with me. He was the one who threw the brick. I’d think he’d be pretty unhappy if he knew Joseph was dating a…Wiccan. But murder?”

  Sean nodded. “I spoke with them, his congregation. They all agreed that Ethan Whelan was very upset over Mr. Carver’s relationship with Sally and you. We’re keeping him in mind. He really didn’t have an alibi that could be corroborated.”

  “Yes—he almost hit me with that brick, too. Do you think he possibly keyed my truck?”

  “Unfortunately, we’ll probably never find out for certain. Don’t worry, Angelica, I really think you’ll be safe.”

  “I must say, Detective, you seem awfully certain I’m not in any danger.”

  “I am. Now, you said you never met the abusive boyfriend? Paul Sumner.” Sean Bennette was a driven man and at that moment, I had no doubt that if anyone could solve this mystery, he could. His easy manner made it quite comfortable to divulge secrets, and one would never even realize it until it was too late. I was still puzzled about his self-confidence concerning my safety.

  “No, I never met Paul—not formally. I saw his handiwork, though. We begged her to get a restraining order against him,” I said, wiping my mouth of more mayonnaise and lipstick.

  “Apparently, she did. We checked his residence, but he’s long gone. According to his roommate, Mr. Sumner was heading down south to Florida. Seems he lost his job and was moving there to find work and stay with family. So far, we can’t locate any family in Florida. He could be in hiding.”

  “I read in the paper there was a boat found adrift in Millers’ Channel?” I asked as I finished my tea and bit into the delicious fudge brownie. I noticed a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

  “What?” I asked, as I self-consciously brushed imaginary crumbs off my face.

  “Nothing, it’s just nice to see a woman enjoy her food.”

  I took another bite of brownie. “I guess I was hungrier than I thought.”

  “I guess you were. Anyway, the boat was reported stolen the day before, on the third. We’ve got it impounded. Can I trust you with something? I need you to keep this between us,” he said.

  “Of course.” I leaned forward.

  “Not even your husband can know.” His voice was so low I had to lean in even farther to hear him. He smelled of almonds and cloves, delicious. “I’m not supposed to be discussing this with anyone who’s not involved with the investigation.”

  “Gotcha.”

  “We think whoever did this waited for dark on the boat. He then mingled in the crowd looking for Sally.”

  “Or Veronica,” I added.

  “Right, and by that time, most everyone was pretty drunk, which he was counting on. He took her back into the dunes where the boat was moored and killed her. There are traces of blood in the boat that we’re testing, that’s something the paper doesn’t know. Also—” He paused as if weighing whether he could trust me with the information. For some reason, he seemed to feel he could. “We do believe there’s a connection between Sally Shaw and Diane Seabring’s murder.”

  “You do? So you don’t think he meant to go after Veronica? I’m telling you, he is.”

  “Well, that’s where it gets a little fuzzy. I believe he’s after Veronica Arthur, as you said. You see, we found out that Paul Sumner purchased tickets and got VIP passes to the Arthur’s Graile concert. Word around is that he’s a major fan of the band and never missed a concert. Your friend may be the ultimate target, but he’s playing with her for now.”

  “You mean Ronnie? I had no idea about Paul being that big a fan of the Arthurs. As I said, I only recently got to know Sally. She told Marisa and me about the tickets for the concert. She said Paul left them in her mailbox. I didn’t know they were VIP. I think she said she went with her brother.” I kicked off my shoes and leaned back in the chair, resting my feet on the opposing seat. I accidentally brushed my leg up against the detective. There was that spark again.

  “Oops, sorry—as for the Arthurs, they’re pretty secretive about what’s going on. Ronnie just said an overzealous, angry fan was causing trouble and that’s why they moved. But you know about that. Maybe Paul is the fan. Were you able to find the murder weapon? Or trace any of the threatening mail to him?”

  “No. The weapon’s most likely out to sea,” he said, finishing his lunch and his tea. I sensed he didn’t want to tip his hand too much. “How’d you know about the mail?”

  “I heard Ronnie talking about it. She’s really upset. Don’t be too hard on her. She’s been through so—”

  “I know, don’t worry. I don’t really expect that everyone I ask not to discuss things with is actually going to listen to me. I mean, I really shouldn’t be divulging this information to you, either. I have a feeling, though, that I can trust you.”

  “Mum’s the word.” I playfully winked at him. “You really think Paul
is the one?”

  “That’s what I’m thinking. For now. It seems likely. Paul was an obsessed fan, saw Sally because of the resemblance between her and Veronica, and perhaps lost it in a psychotic break.”

  “But why Diane?”

  “I think that was a mistake. He was more than likely after Veronica. According to her, she should’ve been holding the sword that night.”

  “That certainly makes sense.”

  “Can I ask you something?” He sat back and relaxed as well. It was strangely pleasing to know he felt so comfortable around me. Karma at play?

  “Sure.” I smiled, grabbing the wrappers off the table and tossing them into the nearby trashcan.

  “How do you do—what it is you do? This psychic vision thing? I used to see my deceased maternal grandmother when I was a boy. A fiery tempered Irishwoman named Maggie. I haven’t been able to see her since I was about nine.”

  “Really? That’s great. I mean, that you were able to see her. Actually, for me, it just sort of happens. Especially if I’m in a meditative state. I think sitting and rocking on the swing that night put me in a trance and the images just came. I know Sally was raped, and that’s not in the papers, either. Sometimes if I’m with a person I can feel their thoughts and emotions, and other times I pick up on those who have passed over who were close to the person.” I got a strong feeling this was all leading to something. Sean didn’t ask questions for the sake of hearing his own voice.

  “Yes, she was raped. How’d you know?”

  “It’s like it happened to me, Detective. I was seeing it and feeling it. It was horrifying.” I shivered, remembering the awful night it happened and the residue that lingered on my psyche.

  “I went to a couple of psychics after Rita died. I wasn’t too impressed with any of them. Do you pick up on her?” he blurted.

  I knew that was part of the reason he came by. “Matter of fact, I do. She’s around you a lot. She loves you very much. She wants you to be happy, though. Why did you stop dating…Donna? She wants to know.” I could see I surprised the detective as he physically teetered when he heard the name mentioned.

  He was once again nearly speechless. “I…uh…I just didn’t have those feelings for her.”

  “She says you must stop comparing everyone to her. She’s laughing—saying she’s one of a kind, remember?”

  “Oh my God, I use to tell her that all the time.” He wistfully sighed. His handsome face became wrought with anguish. He rubbed his temples.

  “You’ll find love again, don’t let it get away. She wants you to be happy—more than anything.” I nodded to him, touching his strong hands lightly as they rested before him.

  “Wow, you’re something else, Mrs. Kane.”

  “Listen to her. You do seem to carry around a lot of sorrow. She wants you to find happiness, let it outweigh the sadness. You deserve it. She says you’re a good and decent man and you’ve mourned her long enough.” I went to my basket and pulled out a piece of rose quartz.

  “I’ll try,” he agreed. “She’ll be a tough act to follow.”

  “That’s all you can do is try,” I said, patting his hands after I placed the quartz in them. “It’ll help you heal. Keep it in your pocket.”

  He nodded, stared at the pretty pink stone then placed it in his jacket. “Thanks. I better get back to work. I enjoyed our lunch, and thank you for those words from Rita. That really means a lot to me.”

  “You’re welcome. Next time, lunch is on me.” I walked him to the front door.

  “What was that all about?” Marisa asked as she cleaned her plate of salad off the counter.

  “Lunch—and a man missing his wife.”

  * * *

  “I love the simple daily running of the shop, but the universe has other plans for me. With the article in the paper boasting how I helped the police locate Sally’s body, more and more people are coming in for readings. Please, Danny. I need your help,” I asked my eldest for his assistance. It was more like begging.

  The phone at the store rang constantly, and I was booked all week for readings. I pleaded with Daniel to come in to work to help Marisa out as my career as psychic/medium took off. As always, my angel was there for me.

  At least I was free from the ghastly visions, for now, anyway. Although my dreams were still plagued by scenes straight from The Mummy.

  “Our calendar is full, with no openings in our healing circles until early October,” Marisa informed me as I waited for my next client to arrive. “My daughter’s coming in later today I’ve got a few last minute massages booked this afternoon,” she continued.

  Marisa’s clientele finally took off. Word of mouth reigned supreme and those who required her services found her. People were coming in from the tri-state area to have us locate missing loved ones. We dropped everything to oblige, and no fee was ever charged.

  Happily, we were successful more often than not, but as always, there was the downside. It was profoundly draining those times the results ended with heartache and tears. Then there were times we just hit a brick wall and couldn’t help at all, except with a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen and the card of a local therapist.

  “Okay—you convinced me to go back into practice,” Ivy announced later that afternoon. She always kept up-to-date with her license and now the need for her assistance was overwhelming. “I’ll take the office upstairs under one condition and that is that I pay rent. Whatever you would normally charge any other person.”

  Marisa and I came up with seventy-five dollars a week, for at least two days a week. She had the option of using it as many days as she needed. Of course, we didn’t intend to take any money, but Ivy insisted and made it clear that she meant it when she handed us her first few weeks’ rent.

  “This is wonderful, Ivy. When folks come in for news of their dearly departed or cheating spouse, I often suggest they see a therapist to talk things over Now, I can send them to you.” I beamed. Things were finally settling back to normal.

  * * *

  “Will you be home for dinner?” was the question du jour.

  “I’ll grab a bite out, I have to meet with Al tonight and go over the contract,” Jon announced as he grabbed a cup of coffee to go. He and I were like ships passing in the night lately. With a proposal of a huge job looming before him, Jon was busy with the accountants and attorneys trying to crunch numbers to make the deal a reality.

  Harbor Realty had a client that offered a large parcel of land to Kane Construction for development, and Jon wanted to purchase it. Allowing many years of work, it was simply a sound financial move all around. With that acquisition, he could finally offer our son, Steven, steady work, perhaps even take him on as a partner. Jon depended on Steven more and more and that gave our son a renewed sense of pride, working side by side with his dad.

  “Why don’t you have Al meet you here?” I asked. “At least we could have dinner and then you could do your thing.” I fixed myself a bowl of instant oatmeal.

  “He’s squeezing me in. I have to meet him at his firm’s office.” Jon gave me a peck on the cheek and was out the door. I stood there trying to recall the last night we’d had dinner together. I couldn’t.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Kyanite is a stone of channeling, altered states, vivid dreams, dream recall and visualizations. It gives protection during these states. It brings loyalty, honesty and tranquility and diminishes anger and confusion. Kyanite does not retain negative energy and never needs energetic cleansing. It does align and balance all chakras, often very suddenly. Kyanite can remove energy blockages. Blue kyanite is associated with the throat chakra and heightens meditation. Black kyanite also enhances meditation, and is linked with the root chakra. Black kyanite is also incredibly protective and deflects negativity. ~ From Angelica Kane’s Book of Shadows

  “I’m so glad the boys went to soccer camp this year,” Marisa whispered, as if we’d be labeled truly wretched mothers if we admitted such a horrendous thought.

/>   “Knowing that Jake’s occupied for a few weeks and with his best friend is a massive responsibility taken off my shoulders. I’m glad we added those extra two weeks, too. They’re having so much fun. Do you realize we’ve been working more hours now than when we first opened the shop a year ago?” I quizzed my friend.

  “Believe me, I know. Hey—any more visions lately?”

  “No more visions to plague me during my waking hours, and fewer nightmares, but somehow I feel like there’s that shoe waiting to be dropped. The calm before—you know, Risa?”

  “I hear ya. We’re due for another protection ritual. We should do something at Lammas.” She looked over at me pensively. “I have to say something to you and don’t get mad.”

  I eyed her suspiciously. “Okay.”

  “You’ve become incredibly sensitive these last few weeks. Particularly after I did that other reading for you and more swords showed up, King of Swords, Five of Swords and Princess of Cups. I know it’s very disconcerting, but you don’t want to manifest the negative.”

  “Now why would I get mad? By the way, thanks for reminding me of the swords, Risa.”

  “What are friends for?”

  “Did I tell you, Ouida consulted the loa, and their message was one of caution, too. A dark force is trying to penetrate my space. No kidding. King of Swords, perhaps? As if I didn’t know. But it was also a bit confusing, there’s a great love mentioned as well. Strong karmic ties to two men. Maybe they’re the King of Cups and King of Wands from the earlier reading. Anyway, I’m performing rituals to reinforce my perimeter shield around my home and truck with amulets and charms. The store has been salted and smudged every day, and with the updated security system at home and at the shop, I don’t know what more to do,” I complained.

  “You’re babbling. Go home, Angie. Ivy will be here soon and you could use some time just relaxing. Go play in your garden,” Marisa advised.

  “I’d love to, I love the time I spend in my gardens. It’s too small, though, for a vegetable patch. Maybe I’ll widen it and intersperse my herbs between the tomatoes.”