Every Witch Way But Dead Read online

  “Do you think it could have anything to do with the mom?” he asked, rubbing at his temples again.

  “I wish I knew. I saw two people, but they were so disjointed I couldn’t make out anything other than just that. A man and a woman. They were yelling, but I didn’t actually hear what they were saying.” Frustration coated my every word. “Something about this is familiar. Like I’ve seen it before.”

  We got into his car and sat in the parking lot, both feeling worn out and tired. He asked, “Did you feel if the kid’s all right?”

  “I got nothing. I’m sorry. Every time I tried to focus on Sara, I got these other images. I really don’t know what it could mean. I don’t suppose you could post an officer outside her apartment?” I asked.

  “We had her phone monitored in case there was a ransom demand, but that didn’t last long.”

  I nodded. “Any news on Sally’s case?”

  “No.” He smiled. “It’s not like television where DNA tests come back during a commercial break. No other leads and no one’s been ruled out. It takes time. We’re still working on it. Her family’s making sure of that. We were able to obtain some DNA samples from Cliff Kendle’s apartment and we’re still trying to locate Paul Sumner.”

  “What about Joe, the Jehovah?”

  Turning the ignition key, he said, “He was supposed to come down and give a sample of his DNA. He said he’d be down this week to do it.”

  “I see, well that’s good news. What about Diane’s case?”

  “You ask a lot of questions, Mrs. Kane,” he said, staring at me. I wondered if I was becoming a pest.

  “Angie, remember?” I looked out the window and back at him He was still staring. “What? Do I have something on my face? My make-up’s probably run all over, down my cheeks, I look like a raccoon, right?” I wiped at my face.

  “Angie… Right. Thanks for trying, anyway, and no, you don’t have anything on your skin that doesn’t belong there. You just seem…familiar to me is all. It’s strange, well…strange for me. Maybe it’s not at all odd for you. And you’re—never mind.” He sighed as he drove out of the development.

  “Strange, how?”

  “Like, I feel as if… It’s weird. Like I’ve known you longer than I actually have. I’ve only had that feeling two other times in my life. I guess you get it all the time.” He avoided my gaze, keeping his eyes on the road.

  “No, but I know what you mean.” I secretly smiled. “I’ve had it happen—sometimes the opposite way. You meet someone and you don’t like them, for no apparent reason.”

  “I hope you don’t feel that way about me.” He laughed.

  “No, I don’t, detective.”

  “Sean.” He teased me now.

  “Can I ask you something, Sean?”

  “Of course, what is it?”

  I was going to ask if he believed in reincarnation, but changed my mind. “Have you had any reports of any strange findings in parks—or any people complaining about weird behaviors of their neighbors?”

  “Weird how?” he asked.

  “Like people getting naked and having sexual intercourse,” I said timidly.

  “Angie, that happens all the time. Especially in the summer.”

  I thought I noticed him blush. Must be his southern upbringing.

  “With candles and an altar?” I asked, looking shyly at him.

  “I don’t recall anything recently,” he thought aloud, rubbing his chin.

  I sighed. “Okay, well, don’t be surprised if you do.”

  “What’s going on? You want to fill me in?”

  “It’s just that I’ve had some strange…premonitions. They involve sexual behavior. Ritualistic behavior. Like someone’s trying to raise a lot of power and using sex to do it.”

  “By premonition you mean, vision?”

  “Yes. I—uh—I also almost interrupted a couple at the park the other night. I went for a walk to clear my head and…they were performing a sacred ritual.”

  “A sexual ritual?”

  I avoided his gaze. “Yeah.”

  He was silent for a minute, no doubt weighing his next question. “Is that what witches usually do?”

  “No, not all, though some do. When it’s done between consenting adults and with the utmost respect, it’s a sacred act,” I told him. I could tell, though, he wasn’t quite sure how to take this bit of knowledge.

  “I’ll keep my eyes open.”

  We sat in silence the rest of the way back to Sacred Treasures. I wasn’t sure I was ready to pursue the conversation. I had a strong sense of where it would lead. Did I want to share my most intimate experiences with the detective at this point? I could sense he wanted to know whether I practiced that type of ritual. But once again his southern manners prevented him from asking, and I was grateful.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Peridot's energies are motivating in the physical sense while also being tranquil in the spiritual sense. This combination tends to invigorate and balance the physical and spiritual facets of your life. This stone's energies will purify and stimulate the solar plexus and heart chakras. This can bring an honesty and acceptance to your relationships and matters of the heart. Peridot is a prophetic crystal and can help you find an understanding of the purpose of existence. Peridot's energies are in tune with the elevated, spiritual forces. It can help bring an acceptance of the ordinary progression of events in your life, and help you to discover spiritual truths. ~ From Marisa Arrucci’s Gem Power Workshop.

  The aroma was mouth-watering. Breads were baking in the oven, from corn to honey whole wheat with raisins, to pumpernickel. I meticulously formed the straw that would enfold my homemade broom bread. Amber lent a hand, making the job less daunting.

  Lammas was here and we were celebrating at Marisa’s home. After an hour of piecing together my broom loaf, I put it in the oven to bake.

  It was a hot and muggy August first, and my hair announced that. Curls all over in every direction sprang from my head. I showered and dressed in a light, turquoise Indian-style dress, richly embossed in shades of green, silver and violet. I decided not to fight Mother Nature and allowed my white-blonde hair, bleached from the sun, to dry of its own accord. After taking the breads out of the oven, I packed them up to transport to Marisa’s home.

  “Mmm, that smells great. I’ll meet you over there,” Jon said, as he picked at a slice of freshly baked pound cake.

  “You’re not coming with me now?”

  “Ange, I have to meet with the realtors, we need to go over some fine print.”

  “Is that woman going to be there?”

  “Yes, and her husband. I just got off the phone with him. Don’t worry. It’s only business,” Jon reassured me.

  “Don’t be too late,” I called out to him, as he breezed out the door.

  * * *

  Marisa was busy sautéing newly-picked tomatoes and basil for a pasta dish after the ceremony when I walked through her door. I helped myself to a glass of Pinot Grigio mixed with seltzer. It wasn’t a good practice to mix alcohol with ritual work, but we weren’t planning anything too vital for the night’s magickal conjuring.

  “What’s wrong? Where’s Jon?”

  “He has a meeting with that woman again,” I complained.

  Ivy bustled in. She, of course, was in charge of dessert, which tonight was a creamy caramel flan. “What woman? Oh, Angie—I found out something you’re probably going to be interested in,” she said as she placed the dessert in Marisa’s refrigerator.

  I whined, “I’m not sure if I do want to know.”

  “Trust me, you do. The couple that owns Harbor Realty, the DeVries, the husband is a real player. Word is, he’s sleeping around with one of the teller’s at the bank and some married woman from Rivers End.”

  “Does the wife know?” I asked.

  “I don’t think so. I think they’re trying to have a baby. That’s what Claire told me. Seems Mrs. DeVries gets her hair done at the same salon as I do, an
d Claire loves to gossip while she’s cutting.”

  Ouida was the next to arrive with a basket full of amulets for prosperity. Heena had Nandan purchase Lakshmi statues from New Delhi, one for each of us.

  Kara couldn’t make it and Ronnie, who was still in town, was invited to take her place. She brought Marisa a lovely St. Brigit’s cross that she had bartered for in Ireland on a previous trip there. I laughed when she first told me she got it for a song, but she was serious. Marc and Veronica had decided that the best thing for them was to return to their gypsy life, traveling in Europe and continue with their music. The Arthurs’ dedication to their fans was paramount and although the police thought they should postpone touring, Marc and Ronnie felt like prisoners in their own home. The threatening mail had ceased and lulled everyone into a false sense of tranquility.

  Even my dreams were back to normal. Now that I was aware of the past life connections, my psyche eased back into normalcy. Normal for me, anyway.

  Ronnie’s beaten spirit had seemed to be on the mend, but still I picked up some dark patches in her aura. I recommended some healing work before she departed for Europe. She normally refrained from outwardly wearing anything that would point to her pagan beliefs, but tonight she wore a beautiful diamond triskele, representing the Maiden, Mother and Crone. It was a recent birthday present from Marc and we planned on blessing it in tonight’s ceremony.

  Marisa, being High Priestess tonight, called all the shots and chose an early ritual so we could party after. With the sauce simmering, the salad soaking in ice water and the breads done, we began.

  We created the sacred space in the seclusion of her backyard, invited the four quarters, and then our fire-haired priestess chanted the invocation. Marisa called to the Corn Mother. She requested her blessing for Ronnie’s stunning, jeweled talisman and for the rest of us as well.

  The fire pit was roaring as we danced our way around, circling faster and faster, building the energy. We asked the Goddess Maat for justice to be swift in the capture of Sally and Diane’s killers, and that their passage to the Summerland be a peaceful one.

  We were a vivid menagerie of lovely women, Sisters of the Sea, dancing around the bonfire. Marisa was in shades of sunny yellow, Ivy wore luscious creams, Ouida donned a shimmering gold sari, Heena was draped in spicy ginger, Ronnie’s ensemble included a rich coffee-color skirt with a gold and brown bodice, and I chose to wear a turquoise blue. All tanned and kissed by the sun, we were ready to enjoy the earth’s bounty. The first harvest.

  Marisa gave the cue and we released the energy up into the sky for a continued plentiful harvest, in every way.

  “Ho!” she called out as we flung our arms skyward, amused and delighted with the freedom we felt.

  We expressed gratitude to the four directions and closed the circle.

  “Let’s go inside where it’s cooler!” Marisa ordered, leading the way.

  Once inside, we poured ourselves glasses of chilled white wine sangria, saturated with fresh peaches, strawberries, oranges, lemons and limes. Sitting around the festive table, we were ready to chow down.

  “Ma—I’m home!” Andrea announced as she bounded into the kitchen, full of spunk and energy.

  I called out teasingly “Hey, why don’t you join us old ladies, Andy?” Glancing at my watch, I wondered where Jon was. “Come and sit with us.”

  “I think I will, Aunt Angie, I’m starving. I haven’t eaten all day. Hiya, everyone.”

  With all the pleasantries taken care of, I patted the seat next to me for Andy to sit in. “Ronnie, you’ve gotta hear Andy sing sometime,” I said proudly.

  “Oh, Aunt Angie, cut it out.” Andrea gawked, embarrassed, turning pink at the thought.

  She was the only one who still called me aunt.

  Marisa gloated, and rightfully so. “Yes, Andy—you should. You have a magnificent voice.”

  I egged her on. “At Christmastime, when I heard Andy singing carols while putting up their tree, I was amazed.”

  Ronnie coaxed the young woman. “Now I have to hear you. Come on, I’ll sing with you,” she said.

  “What songs do you know?” Andy asked.

  Marisa reminded her daughter, who sat at the table. Ronnie had wanted to join us more often, but her schedule was usually too hectic. “Andy, this is Veronica Arthur, you know that CD I’ve always got playing in the car?”

  “And my neighbor,” Heena added.

  Andy’s eyes widened. “Yes, you’re on the cover of the CD. Holy shit! I mean, w-wow, nice to meet you,” she stuttered, wiping her mouth of pumpernickel crumbs. “She moved next to you, Heena?”

  Ronnie laughed at the innocence that radiated from Andrea.

  Heena lifted her water glass. “A few doors down.”

  “How about a Stevie Nicks song?” Ouida requested.

  Ivy seconded the idea.

  “Of course!” They picked a song and Ronnie gave her the signal to start. Both sang together in perfect harmony. It was amazing. We sat with our mouths open in perfect Os as they continued, verse after verse.

  I could see tears of pride welling in Marisa’s eyes as they concluded the song, a cappella.

  There was silence in the room as Ronnie sat with a grin on her face that went from ear to ear. Then we erupted into applause.

  Ronnie was the first to speak. “You have a wonderfully strong voice and great range, Andrea, have you ever thought about singing as a profession? How would you like to come by our house and rehearse with us? See how it goes. Maybe not for this tour, but when we come back and do some gigs locally, who knows?” Ronnie excitedly asked.

  This was the first time, in a really, really, long time, that my girlfriend was speechless. So was her daughter.

  I spoke up next. “I think that’s an excellent idea. They don’t live very far, Andy, and it wouldn’t hurt. What the hell, right?”

  “Damn, yeah!”

  “I really think we sound good together. Are you going to be home later? I can call Marc. I’m sure he’d love to hear you as well.” Ronnie’s excitement was contagious, and she grabbed her cell phone out of her bag.

  Andrea sat at the table and we all finally ate some of Marisa’s delicious pasta while we projected into the future about Andrea’s new career.

  Ivy spoke between bites of pasta. “Marisa, you must give me the recipe for this sauce, it’s out of this world!”

  “It’s simple, Ivy. I’ll email it to you.”

  Ouida looked over at Heena. “No wine tonight?”

  “No, I’ve got a bit of a sour stomach lately.”

  I winked at Heena. “Maybe you’re pregnant.”

  That was all it took to get our beautiful friend to confess that she and her husband were indeed trying to have a baby. The rest of the dinner conversation rotated between babies and singing. Happy talk.

  We all helped with the clean up while Marisa made iced cappuccinos for us, then we went out back. The torches lit up the yard and we could see the resident bats flying out as dusk descended, ready to eat their share of mosquitoes.

  “If you watch the night skies in August, you’ll be treated to a most enjoyable meteor shower,” I informed the circle, trying to ignore the sick feeling that took hold in my stomach.

  “Every night?” Ivy asked.

  I nodded. “Yup—every night in August. I’ll be right back—gotta use the ladies room.” I went inside and snatched my cell phone. I called Jon’s number, but he didn’t pick up. I couldn’t shake the sickening feeling that surrounded me.

  I walked out the back door and saw Ronnie pointing to the sky. “Ohh, I see one—hmmm… This could make some great lyrics for a song…” she thought aloud, as I rejoined my friends.

  “When are you leaving to go to Europe?” Ouida inquired.

  “In two weeks, we’ll be gone until October. With the new album out, we have to go. It’s in our contract. With Marc and me trying to get the music heard, we absolutely must be out there. The radio stations won’t play it here, it�
�s not commercial, no young, hot chick in a thong singing about angst and rage. It’ll be tough without Diane.”

  Ivy huffed. “The show must go on, huh?”

  Ouida smiled. “Ah, the merry minstrel is here.”

  “Hello everyone,” Marc greeted us and kissed his wife. He arrived with his guitar and started strumming out the tunes to the song Ronnie and Andy were to sing.

  “I took my love…I took it down…” They began their musical foray.

  We all clapped when they were finished. Marc sat there shaking his head, a smile on his face. “You’re absolutely correct, my love. She has a wonderful instrument. I think it would be fabulous if she came to the house and we played together, see how she sounds with Karen and Becky. I think it’d be a great match. She has the same range as they do.”

  Andrea positively glowed. “Excellent! Let me know when and I’ll be there,” she said, looking ready to burst from the extraordinary news.

  “Great, come by tomorrow at eleven?” Ronnie added. Her aura turned three shades of blue.

  “Cool!” Andrea agreed.

  Soon, we were having our own private concert, featuring Andrea Arrucci.

  Again, Marisa was without words. She sat next to me, forgot about the coffee and went straight to shots of Bailey’s and Kahlua.

  “Ange, what’s wrong?”

  “Jon’s not answering his phone and something doesn’t feel right, I can’t explain it. He shouldn’t be taking this long.”

  “Maybe they got held up—can’t agree on certain wording of the contract.”

  “That’s why we have lawyers, Risa.”

  In spite of the cooling breezes, I felt warm. The familiar tickle that had vanished for a few weeks returned. I walked down to the water’s edge and sat staring at the stars. This could only mean my friend of the sexual rituals was at it again, and I plugged into him.

  What surprised me was that as I closed my eyes to try to focus on the sender of these energies, I saw Jon’s face before me. I felt like someone had punched me in the stomach.