Luck of the Witchy Read online

  "No, not that bad," he said. "Just a little jealous and judgmental."

  "I may have exaggerated—" But then she shook her head. "Actually, I didn't exaggerate at all. That's a fair description of my remaining relatives. But cousin Flora is not like that."

  "Flora?" he asked, trying to recall who that was. Fiona had shown him a picture of her cousins once. She'd stood in front of a store, surrounded by fresh-faced, blonde women. Flora had been the short one with curly hair and wild eyes, holding a freshly cut bouquet of wildflowers. Her hobby fit her name.

  "We used to be inseparable," Fiona continued. "We'd go off into the woods looking for herbs and medicinal plants. Flora loved plants, and I enjoyed putting them in candles. We had a grand time, except for the odd patch of poison ivy." She absentmindedly scratched her arm.

  Gavin smiled, picturing a pony-tailed Fiona—all long blonde hair and gawky limbs—strolling carelessly through a meadow of ivy in rural Pennsylvania.

  "Flora made a fantastic paste to relieve the itching," Fiona continued. "It contained witch hazel and baking soda."

  "She sounds nice," Gavin said. "Have you kept in touch?"

  Fiona's face darkened. "Not really, but she just emailed me out of the blue, saying she's coming to Banshee Creek and wants to get together."

  But her bleak tone was a sharp contrast to her words.

  "Then we'll give her a true Banshee Creek welcome," Gavin said, trying to sound enthusiastic. "She's coming this week?"

  "Yes," Fiona said. "It's short notice, but it won't be a long visit. She has some business in town."

  "She chose a bad week for a visit to Banshee Creek," Gavin said. "I hear we're facing an imminent invasion."

  Fiona gave him a side-long glance. "Have you been talking to Caine?"

  "Actually, Caine has been talking to me," Gavin said. "He's obsessed with these Hexalife folks."

  Fiona nodded. "They stole Leslie, and he's very protective of what he calls his A-Team."

  "A little too protective. He wanted Fire & Rescue to keep them from having their meeting in town."

  Fiona scrunched up her nose. "How can your firefighting department do that? It's just a sales meeting."

  "We can't, and he expressed his disappointment when I told him. He was rather eloquent."

  "Hexalife isn't that bad," Fiona says. "It's actually a very smart organic wellness system. Kat says they design the herbal combinations with great care, and Luanne says that their astrological analysis is solid."

  Gavin laughed. "That's high praise from our resident experts. Hopefully, your cousin won't mind the hard sell."

  "I doubt it. Flora barely notices her surroundings. She's always lost in her own world."

  "Really?" Gavin asked, putting the leftovers in the fridge. "That sounds very unlike you Harts."

  Fiona rolled her eyes. "You've only met one Hart."

  "And that one." He bent to kiss her forehead. "I like very much."

  "You'll like Flora, too," Fiona said, turning back to her dishes. "She's nicer than I am."

  "That is impossible," he said.

  Gavin's cheesy compliment was heartfelt, so it was greeted by a laugh and a sprinkling of water. He grabbed a towel to dry his face, then noticed Fiona's fridge was beeping. The appliance was so old it didn't close properly on its own, and the door had to be pushed into place.

  He paused before turning to close it, enjoying the sound of Fiona's laughter. It was nice to hear that sound again. Hopefully, cousin Flora was as nice as advertised.

  "Flora is all right," Fiona said, and shook her head. "She really is a sweetheart, and I shouldn't be nervous. I'm just overreacting to Luanne's predictions of family trouble. It's silly."

  Gavin felt a twinge of suspicion at the mention of Luanne's name—the town's fortune-teller could be uncannily accurate, and a family member showing up unexpectedly could mean trouble—but he pushed it away. He was just being an appropriately paranoid health and safety professional. But why was he looking for an ulterior motive? Family members drifted apart and got back together all the time, didn't they? And Luanne wasn't always right. She would be the first to admit that.

  The insistent beeping interrupted his thoughts. He turned to close the fridge—irritated because the fridge in his house was newer and closed automatically—but found it wasn't open. The noise wasn't coming from the fridge.

  It was coming from his beeper.

  CHAPTER THREE

  "SEAN LEFT, too," Luanne said over the phone. "Something about a car accident. That's what life with a cop is like."

  "Just an accident?" Fiona asked, trying to hide her relief.

  She'd thought it was something much worse, judging by Gavin's expression. If it was just an accident, she could relax. It wasn't like Gavin would be going into a burning building.

  "Yes, nothing to worry about," Kat said in an understanding tone. "Get some rest. He'll be back soon."

  "You too," Fiona replied.

  She ended the call and set the phone on the entrance table. If it was just an accident, Gavin would return sometime tonight. It would be smarter if he went to his own place to be more comfortable and sleep, but she knew he wouldn't. He would come back to her.

  The knot in her stomach loosened.

  She glanced around her small studio, noting the clothes on top of the bed, the coats hanging on the chairs, and her shoes spread on the floor. The space was too tight for two people and the mess did not help. How had she let it get this bad? They'd cleaned up the kitchenette and dining area, and that made the rest of the room look like a pigsty.

  She walked a few steps, grabbed a pale green shirt lying on the vintage quilt, and folded it. She knew why the place was a mess. She hadn't been in the mood to clean up since Flora had contacted her.

  But now she felt better about it. Funny what a nice chat with Gavin could do. A few hours before, she'd been dreading dealing with her estranged cousin and with the mess in her apartment, but now she felt like she could tackle anything.

  She quickly put away the clothes and hung her coats in the tiny closet. She straightened the blankets and fluffed the pillows in a flurry of activity.

  There, only a few minutes of work and her home looked right again. She just had to clean the mess on her desk and she'd be done.

  The studio, small as it was, would look perfect when Flora arrived, which mattered to Fiona.

  The apartment and the store were signs of her success and independence. That's why she had refused Gavin's many offers to move into his comfortable house and avail herself of his high-end appliances and reliable HVAC system. The studio, like the store, was hers. They were part of a life she'd built all by herself and she was proud of it, even if she lived in an apartment that was way too small and the fridge door didn't close.

  But what would her cousin make of it? They'd often discussed their dreams. Fiona had always wanted to have her own shop, and Flora wanted to be a botanical researcher. She loved medicinal plants and herbs and longed to write her own encyclopedia about them.

  Fiona smiled. Her cousin would likely ignore the studio and start criticizing the herb mixtures Fiona used on her candles. Some of them were unorthodox, and Flora would have strong opinions about that. Flora was a strict rule-follower. That's why she'd stayed home. But Fiona was a proud rule-breaker, and so she'd left.

  Well, that, and her powers causing wild fires. But that was under control now. Her family could not judge her anymore, not that Flora was the judgmental type.

  Fiona's smile widened into a grin, and she turned to organize her desk. She was almost looking forward to her cousin's visit. She could show Flora around town. Her cousin would love the parks and the forests. They could go to Poltergeist Pizza and—

  Fiona stopped and stared at the pile of pamphlets on the desk. Dozens of brochures faced her, all with glossy pictures of smiling, happy witches doing fun things like cooking, dancing, and gardening. Had she really received this many Hexalife brochures?

  The company
had a seed catalog that promised to show you how to connect with the creative spirits of the Earth and a cookbook that encouraged readers to nurture the soul within. Apparently, one could forge strong spiritual connections through the power of amaranth brownies. Good to know.

  But the pictures were enticing. Everyone seemed so happy and carefree and, well, witchy. Even the yogini witch who had twisted herself into a pretzel made the position seem blissful.

  Maybe Banshee Creek was misjudging the Hexalife people. Some brochures guaranteed sketchy business opportunities, but most were just promoting self-help techniques. Who didn't want to be healthier, happier, and better at making brownies?

  The magical aspects also looked fun. Like Luanne said, Hexalife designed their diets in accordance to your zodiac sign and organized the recipes to honor the different Wiccan holidays. They categorized the yoga exercises according to the Solar Wheel, and the beauty regimes were inspired by different goddesses. You had to do a quiz to figure out which one was yours.

  Of course, Fiona did not need a quiz. She turned the pages until she found Brigid, the Irish Goddess of Fire, and began reading. Hexalife recommended that she wear gold clothes, which was unusual, as most people associated fire with the color red. They also suggested a heliotrope perfume and lotions made of dandelion, snowdrops, and chamomile to calm sensitive skin. How did they know she had sensitive skin? Did all followers of the goddess of fire suffer from that condition?

  The next paragraph recommended chamomile tea for anxiety, which also afflicted her. How interesting. She'd known who her patron goddess was, but she hadn't considered developing a beauty regime based on the deity. That heliotrope perfume seemed delicious, literally so as the scratch-and-sniff sample included in the brochure smelled like marzipan.

  She grabbed the diet booklet—which had an attractive zaftig woman on the cover—and looked up Sagittarius. The book recommended she limit her alcohol consumption because her ruling planet, Jupiter, governed the liver. She giggled. That may explain why Luanne always stole her drinks.

  She was also told to avoid chocolate which was no hardship, as she didn't much like it. Instead, she should eat small meals with lots of whole grains, egg yolk, lemons, strawberries, apples, and cherries.

  In essence, it was a red and yellow diet. It sounded silly, but maybe it was worth a try. If she joined Hexalife, she would get a pamphlet with recommended recipes. The sample recipes—a whole grain lemon risotto with roasted radishes and a frittata with red and yellow peppers—looked tasty.

  The next pamphlet was on personal relationships. The cover showed two African-American witches hugging. The girls' features were so similar, they could be sisters.

  Or cousins.

  Fiona opened the pamphlet. There was a whole section about Sagittarius. She winced as she read it. Places career above family...finicky...high standards...unwilling to compromise...moody...elusive. Her nose wrinkled. None of that sounded positive. She was loyal and devoted, but also fiery and flighty and difficult to live with, just like her native element, fire.

  Her lips curved into a smile. Good thing she was dating a firefighter. In her case, that fieriness could be literal.

  But not everyone was willing to put up with constant fires. She'd left and lost touch with her family after a fight and focused on her shop, just like a Sagittarian. The pamphlet suggested that she learn to compromise and meet people halfway. Maybe it was time to be a little more flexible. She'd learned to control her fire powers. Learning to Flora's visit would be an opportunity to do that.

  And if Fiona joined Hexalife, she would get a book teaching her how to heal relationships. The beginner's package was expensive—ninety-nine dollars for two books and website access! However, there was a distributor's special that would give her the relationships book, the cookbook, and a box of beauty supplies for free. All she had to do was agree to sell Hexalife products in her store. All she had to do was buy eighty dollars' worth of inventory. That was affordable, as she could easily sell the brand's candles in her shop.

  She grabbed her phone, eager to crunch some numbers on the calculator app. But the phone started vibrating. The noise startling her so much that she almost dropped it.

  She frowned and accepted the call. Why was Flora calling at this hour? How inconsiderate—

  Fiona stopped and took a deep breath. What did the brochure suggest for these occasions? Flexibility...acceptance...positivity.

  "Fiona?" Flora asked, her voice shaky on the phone. "Are you there? Did I wake you up?"

  "Not at all," Fiona replied, injecting sweetness into her voice. "I was cleaning."

  Flora gave a relieved exhalation. "Good. I was afraid you'd gone to bed. I know you have to open the store early."

  Her voice was a rough whisper, like she was about to cry.

  "Flora, are you okay?"

  A shaky sob was the only answer. Oh, no, her cousin was not okay.

  "What's wrong?" Fiona asked again.

  Flora drew a tremulous breath. "I'm so sorry to bother you."

  Fiona frowned. Was that a siren she heard in the background? "You're not a bother. What's going on?"

  Her answer was another sob.

  Fiona bit her lip in frustration. It sounded like her cousin—scatterbrained on her best days—had just had a nasty shock, since that wailing sound was definitely a police siren. Fiona needed information, and she needed it fast. Positivity schmositivity. It was time to throw the Hexalife manual out the window.

  "Flora," she shouted. "Just tell me what happened."

  "I..." Flora had trouble getting the words out. "I need help. We just had an...." She choked on a sob. "Someone is trying to kill us."

  CHAPTER FOUR

  GAVIN'S HEART sank. The accident was a lot worse than he'd expected.

  He stood by the side of Black River Falls Bridge and assessed the damage. The moonless night and slick pavement had been someone's undoing. The vehicle—a Chevy SUV that had seen better days—lay on its side, the driver's side door torn off.

  But that damage was not due to the accident. His second-in-command, DeShawn Williams, had torn the door off its hinges with the Jaws of Life in order to extract the driver, who was now on her way to the hospital along with another passenger.

  The remaining victims—two women in black jackets, dark jeans, and emergency foil blankets—stood on the grass, giving their statements to the police. The older woman—tall with gray hair and the demeanor of a veteran valkyrie—gestured toward the street, describing what had happened.

  The younger one—a slight blonde girl with wide, scared eyes—hugged herself and shifted from foot to foot. Should he have insisted she go in the ambulance? She wasn't hurt, but she'd suffered a big shock. DeShawn had tried to cajole her into the truck, but the girl refused, saying she had a relative in Banshee Creek who would pick her up.

  Hopefully, the relative would arrive soon. The girl should be home under a warm blanket, not in the cold, shaking like a frightened bird.

  He scratched his head. That was what was worrying him—the continuous trembling and the way the girl kept glancing up the road, as if she expected another van to run her over.

  That reaction wasn't shock. That was fear.

  But why was she afraid?

  Her companion didn't seem scared. She pointed toward the road, her finger shaking with rage. Gavin couldn't hear much of what she was saying, but he could make out a few words. The valkyrie wasn't exactly whispering.

  "Crazy driver...drove like a maniac...came straight at us...could have killed us...manslaughter."

  The sheriff's deputy, Olivia Sanders, took the woman's statement without batting an eye. Ms. Valkyrie was having a normal reaction to being blindsided by a speeding van.

  The blonde girl, however, was not having a normal reaction.

  Sheriff Sean Stickley approached the valkyrie and thanked her, gave the blond girl a concerned glance, and then walked over to where Gavin was standing.

  "Is she all right?" Sean ask
ed.

  Gavin fought the urge to shrug. Firefighters did not equivocate. "DeShawn checked her. She's not seriously injured, just a bruise from the seatbelt and some whiplash. He tried to convince her to go to the hospital, but she refused. Said she doesn't like hospitals."

  Sean nodded. "Can't force her if she doesn't want to go." He glanced back at the girl, who was now rocking back and forth on her heels. "She seems pretty shook up."

  "I think the word you're looking for is scared."

  "I think you're right." Sean's eyes narrowed. "She tried to tell me something about the accident, but Ms. Donna told her to be quiet."

  "Ms. Donna?"

  Sean shrugged in the direction of the tall valkyrie. "Her name is Bella Donna. She's a finance manager, and probably a good one since she's very methodical and observant."

  "She's the one in charge?"

  Sean shook his head. "Violet Vonn is their boss. She's enroute to the hospital. The other girl in the ambulance, Stella Gendry, is their marketing person. The four of them came to town for a meeting and have reservations at the motel."

  "Are they the Hexalife group?" Gavin asked, remembering the list of upcoming events.

  They didn't look like the slick corporate staff Caine had raged about. Their vehicle was a box of rust on wheels and their clothes were standard, albeit black. Like many startup businesses, Hexalife seemed to be a shoe-string operation.

  Sean nodded. "What condition were they in?"

  "Not good, according to DeShawn, but he's a devoted pessimist. He enjoys being pleasantly surprised when someone survives."

  Sean's eyes narrowed. "Ask him if they said anything. Tell him to write it up."

  Gavin's brow went up. A write-up on a traffic accident? That was unusual. "Will do. What do you figure?"

  Sean opened his mouth to answer, but stopped, shading his eyes as a pair of blindingly bright headlamps appeared around a curve. Someone was joyriding tonight.