Charmed Bones Read online

  “Witches!” Thomas said enthusiastically. “Man, and we thought Zinnia would be a series of porch libations, gourmet meals, and catching up with Harold. This is much more fun. And Harold said those Harrington sisters are hot.”

  What could it possibly hurt to bring them with me? “Sure. Just play along with whatever Tinkie does.”

  “You got it.”

  My car shot through the small town where the store lights had gone dark and the streetlights were coming on one by one. The blue hour had arrived. Some called it the gloaming, but I favored the term that better described my feelings. This was a melancholy time of day for me.

  When we passed Millie’s Café, I remembered my promise to bring Sweetie Pie something good to eat. Too late. I’d have to hope the Sweetheart drive-thru was still open when I was done and beg forgiveness that I hadn’t brought some of Millie’s chicken pot pie. That or make it up to her tomorrow.

  The diner’s interior glowed with light, but even Millie’s was slow on a cold February evening. A dinner crowd was there, but not the normal bustle. I saw my friend sitting at a window table sipping a cup of coffee and reading a tabloid. She looked a little sad, and I knew she missed Esmeralda’s far-fetched stories. Millie did love the ludicrous and the bizarre. And Esmeralda had been good at her job.

  For a moment I was struck with an acute sense of loss. I hadn’t known Trevor, and I hadn’t really liked Esmeralda, but they were dead. And they had died in a terrible manner if the expression on their faces told the true story. Someone had taken the most valuable thing they had—their life. And it had been taken in a manner that left their expressions twisted in horror.

  And none of it made a damn bit of sense.

  I’d been swept up in a case that seemed to have no central organizing motive. Was it a real-estate deal gone bad, an attack on the idea of a Wiccan boarding school, or two murders stemming from jealousy? I’d decided on money as the motivation. Money in the form of real estate. The Musgrove property was extremely valuable. If the sisters prevailed and created the school, then the land would remain undeveloped and natural. Kitten and Bob Fontana would lose an opportunity to make millions.

  Thomas interrupted my musings. “Harold told us that the two murder victims met an unusual fate. They appear to have been frightened to death. Is that true?”

  We were almost to the manor, and it would be best to fill them in on some details so they wouldn’t be caught up short. “Doc Sawyer hasn’t formally settled on the cause of death. The look on their faces makes us think they were frightened to death.” I thought of the old stories of people whose hair had turned white from fear. Old wives’ tales, I’d assumed.

  “Ms. Delaney,” Tad asked, “do you believe the witches have any powers?”

  “What did Harold say?” I was curious.

  “He said that magic can be found in the most unlikely places. A dairy would seem rather unlikely.”

  “I don’t know if they have powers or not. I do know that unusual things have happened in Sunflower County since they arrived. And I do believe the sisters enjoy a certain … notoriety. They seek it.”

  “Harold said they were really hot.” Tad repeated Thomas’s earlier assessment. When he grinned, he looked a lot like Harold.

  “They’re pretty,” I agreed. “And smart. Be careful.”

  I turned into the manor drive and watched Tad’s reaction. The house was imposing, all limestone blocks with the balconies and gargoyles outlined in the dying light. It was a setting right out of Edgar Allan Poe’s Gothic world.

  “In for a penny, in for a pound,” Thomas said as I stopped the car and he got out of the backseat. “What an adventure!”

  “Keep your eyes and ears open,” I warned them. “There’s a killer on the premises. He, or she, has killed twice. There’s nothing to stop them from killing again.”

  “Do you know who the killer is?” Tad asked.

  “I have my suspicions, but it’s best that you don’t know. That way you can play your part properly.”

  The two men nodded. “Then let’s get on with it.”

  The front door of the manor was standing open, and I walked into the gloom with Tad and Thomas right behind me. Truth be told, I was happy for their company. Shadows had settled into every corner of the foyer and the parlors to either side. No light was turned on, and I couldn’t detect any living presence, even though Tinkie’s and Coleman’s vehicles were parked in the driveway.

  “Where is Vincent Price when you need him?” Tad quipped.

  “This is more of a Boris Karloff moment,” Thomas responded.

  I was impressed with their knowledge of old horror movie icons—and Millie would be, too. These two men would fit right into our Zinnia world. And they were very handsome, like Harold. When we were done with this case, I’d enjoy finding out more about both men.

  We advanced through the foyer and into the front parlor that had once been considered the man’s parlor. From there we continued to a library, a large study, a gun and smoking room—all dark paneled with the masculine preference in mind. I badly wanted to call out to Coleman and Tinkie, or even to the sister witches, but I didn’t. My gut warned me to stay quiet.

  “Where is everyone?” Tad asked.

  “Good question.” This hadn’t been part of the plan. We were supposed to meet in the parlor, Hope ready to play her role.

  “They couldn’t have vanished into thin air,” Thomas said.

  That was the wrong thing to say. In the land of Musgrove Manor, strange things could and did happen. “I think we should go up to the third floor,” I said. Since they weren’t in the parlor, where we’d agreed to meet, Trevor’s rooms seemed the logical place everyone might have gathered.

  I’d been in the house enough to know that if I exited the gun and smoking room through the western door, I would end up in the formal dining room and finally back to the foyer, where the dragon-laden staircase would take us to Trevor’s old rooms. The house was so quiet I could hear the wooden floors creaking softly.

  “The detail here is exquisite,” Tad said close behind me. “Look at the way snakes have been crafted into the crown molding. And the door lintels have the symbols for Quetzalcoatl, the feathered serpent god.”

  “How do you know so much about this?” I asked.

  “I spent three years in Guatemala and Spanish was my second master’s. I like to study. International business was my main focus. I’m the opposite of my brother, Thomas. Tell her what you like, Thomas?”

  His request was met with silence. We both turned around. In the semidarkness, there was only emptiness. Thomas was gone.

  “What the hell?” Tad started back the way we’d come until I grabbed him.

  I hadn’t heard a sound that would indicate Thomas was gone, and yet he was. “Stay close,” I said. “We’ll find him and the others. I promise. But we have to stay together.” I didn’t want to be snatched by something and I sure didn’t want to be the only one left behind.

  Tugging Tad behind me, I entered the dining room and stopped. It was an extraordinary room with painted frescoes on the ceiling in the style of the Sistine Chapel. I could tell that because the room was aglow with burning candles. They were on every flat surface, dozens of them in all shapes and sizes. Their flames were reflected in the large mirrors above two hunt boards and over the mantle. The mirrors gave the room the sensation of endless depth. The words to an old Eagles’ song, “Hotel California,” came to me. We’d checked in, but would we be able to check out?

  “Are you sure those women aren’t witches?” Tad asked.

  “I’m not sure of anything at this point.” How could I be? A grown man had simply disappeared—without a sound—when he was only five steps behind me.

  “We should get out of here. Let’s go outside and we can call Harold and some help. I don’t have any cell reception in this house.”

  I had the same problem with my phone. Suddenly there was no service. “Yeah.” I edged deeper into the dining
room and stopped. The candles on the large old tiger oak table had been placed around a pentagram just like the one I’d seen on the floor of the secret room. Had the sisters drawn this? I wondered if the witches had played me and Tinkie all along. “Let’s head for the front door. You call Harold, I’ll call DeWayne.”

  “And I’ll turn on the damn lights.” Anger was replacing Tad’s worry and surprise. He walked to the wall and hit the switch. Nothing. “Whoever is responsible for this has flipped the breakers.” He was even angrier. “Someone is messing with us, and I don’t like it. I’m going to find my brother.”

  “Hold on, Tad.” I grabbed the sleeve of his jacket. “We have to stay together.”

  “This isn’t funny. Who’s behind this?”

  “I don’t know. And you’re right. This isn’t funny. It’s deadly serious. Now let’s just step outside. We can figure out what to do when we’re out of this house.” I left the dining room and found the short hallway that would give us access to the foyer. Tad was right behind me.

  I’d never been in this hallway before and I stopped to get my bearings. Every inch of available wall space in the hall was covered with paintings of nude women. Some of the women looked familiar, and in better light I might have been able to name them. One painting stopped me dead in my tracks. Jane Cunningham, the paragon of virtue and keeper of the societal rules, leaned against the trunk of a huge banyan tree. It was almost as if she was a part of the tree. The aerial prop roots of the banyan had become a forest of trunks surrounding the original tree. In the center, with a cluster of the large, dark green leaves in her hand, was the first lady of anal retentiveness in Zinnia. “Damn,” I said, wishing I had more light so I could really examine the painting. “This is going to be big news.” I snapped a photo with my phone and was reminded that I could use it as a flashlight. Sometimes my brain didn’t engage properly.

  “This is the town’s keeper of virtue,” I said to Tad. “She’s the most prim and proper person in town and she’s always dragging others over the coals for their inappropriate conduct. Now, look. She’s naked as a jaybird.” When Tad didn’t answer, I turned my phone light toward him. Except there was no one else in the hallway. Tad had vanished. I was completely alone.

  24

  The door to the dining room slammed shut with such force I jumped at least two feet. The light from my cell phone died, and I found myself in total darkness. A bit of fumbling and I lit up the phone again, but it revealed only what I already knew. The short hallway was empty. Jane Cunningham’s naked disapproval raked my nerves like a gun barrel against my spine.

  “Bite me,” I said to her portrait. As soon as I spoke, I wished I’d come up with a different suggestion. I moved down the hallway examining the portraits because I didn’t know what to do and once I got to the door, if it was locked, I’d have to accept that I was in deep trouble. Until then I could pretend, at least a little.

  One portrait stopped me in my tracks. Esmeralda Grimes, wearing only a rosary and a golden aura, stared out at me, her hand lifted as if in benediction. Here was the portrait Esmeralda had filed suit and argued with Trevor over. He’d painted her as a gorgeous woman. And I remembered the rosary in the painting as the one I’d found beneath Trevor’s bed. The one I believed belonged to the journalist.

  Somewhere behind me, something creaked. A hidden door, no doubt, that had allowed whoever it was to snatch up the two men who’d been with me. I put the phone in my pocket and waited in the darkness, struggling to control my breathing.

  Soon I would find out what had happened to Tad and Thomas, and to Tinkie, Coleman, and Kitten. Where were the witches? And Malvik? Coleman had taken him more to remove him from the hotel than for any other reason, so he had to be on the dairy grounds. I wished strenuously that I’d been smart enough to bring Sweetie Pie and Pluto with me. They would have hunted down the hiding place of all the missing humans. Now I was on my own, and I was almost paralyzed by fear. It didn’t make sense that fully grown humans could simply vanish. Without a sound. I thought of Jitty’s last incarnation and her determination to make me believe that magic was possible. She’d been trying to warn me. Any minute now, something would likely reach for me. I could almost feel the bony fingers on my shoulder.

  I had to get a grip on myself, and the quickest route was anger. Where in the hell was Coleman? He was the lawman, the person who was supposed to protect me from danger. Of all times for him to disappear, now wasn’t a good one. Beneath my anger was worry. For him and for Tinkie. My partner was mighty but small. She was also fearless and would put herself in danger to protect someone she loved. And Tad and Thomas had simply vanished. I felt responsible for Harold’s cousins. I’d brought the brothers along, even though I now realized I shouldn’t have. If they were hurt, it was on me.

  Kitten was also missing, though I wasn’t much concerned for her. But what had happened to the man I loved and my best friend?

  Inaction gained me nothing. I walked to the door at the end of the hallway and turned the knob. Unexpectedly, the door opened on smooth, oiled hinges. I found myself in the ladies’ parlor near the front of the house. I’d come through not a doorway but a panel. The hallway was one of the many secret passages in Musgrove Manor. Instead of heading to the front door, I took another right and made my way toward the kitchen.

  I tried the light switch in a small serving room off the kitchen, but the power was still not working. There’d been no storms, no normal reasons for an electrical outage. I could only deduce, as Tad had stated, that someone had shut the power off deliberately. There could be no good reason for doing that.

  I had to be very careful, or I would find myself snatched up. And while it might be the quickest way to find out what had happened to all my friends, it might also put me in a position where I couldn’t help them.

  I opened the door to the kitchen, hoping I would find them all around the table, waiting to spring their surprise. Then I could gleefully pistol-whip the bunch. But the room was empty, except for dozens of burning candles. They flared on the table, the stove, the counters, and the windowsills that looked out on the outline of the old dairy where a single, solitary figure trudged through the gathering dusk toward the outbuilding.

  Pressing my fingertips to the kitchen window to be sure the figure wasn’t a reflection or distortion, I looked for clues that would tell me who the black-clad figure might be. It was tall and slender, and could be either gender. It moved quickly, almost more shadow than solid entity.

  “Who are you?” I whispered. “What do you want?”

  As if it could hear me, the figure spun around and faced the house. I felt as if its gaze was drilling straight into me and I ducked instinctively. Who was that? Could it be one of the sisters? Or maybe Bob Fontana? I couldn’t see clearly enough to be certain.

  The logical thing to do was rush outside, track the figure, take it down, and find out its identity. But something about the way it moved, the uncanny knowing that it seemed to have, made me afraid. The very fact I was calling it “it” made me uneasy. Was it a human, or did the Harrington sisters truly have an ability to conjure something up that was less than human and possibly evil?

  The bottom line, though, was I could cower in the kitchen, or I could take action.

  Before I changed my mind, I went out the back door of the manor, crossed the porch, and stepped into the yard. A gibbous moon hung just above the tree line at the back of the pasture. When it rose higher, it might provide better light. Now, though, it was virtually useless. I angled to the front of the house and got my pistol and a good flashlight out of the trunk of my car. I checked Tinkie’s trunk and got her pistol, too. And I hunkered down beside my car, where there was plenty of service, and called Harold. I could not call Oscar and tell him that I’d lost his wife. Harold, though, wouldn’t chastise me or hold me accountable. He would come to my aid.

  He picked up on the third ring. “Sarah Booth, what are you up to on a brisk February evening?”

 
Though a chill wind had sprung up, Harold’s assured voice warmed me. “I’m at Musgrove Manor. Tinkie, Coleman, and your two cousins have disappeared. Would you pick up Sweetie Pie and Pluto and come help me?”

  “An adventure. Of course. I was a little on the bored side waiting for Tad and Thomas to return.”

  “Harold, bring a gun. I don’t know what’s going on, but you should come armed.”

  “Have you called DeWayne?”

  “He was supposed to meet us here, but I haven’t seen him.” Was it possible he’d arrived and disappeared, too? What had he found in Malvik’s rooms?

  “I’ll bring Budgie.” Harold sounded firm.

  “I don’t know…”

  “We’ll be there in twenty minutes. I’ll get the animals and I’ll bring Roscoe. Find a place to hide and stay there.”

  “Okay.” I sounded uncertain even to me.

  “You have to stay safe so we can work this together. If you disappear, Sarah Booth, I won’t know where to begin.”

  Harold knew how to pull my strings. “I’ll be in the front yard.”

  But I wouldn’t be waiting. I would go to the dairy and see what was happening there. The lone figure had disappeared in that direction. If I couldn’t apprehend the person, then at least I could spy upon it.

  * * *

  When I arrived at the dairy, my frozen toes and fingers felt like they might snap. I crept to one of the old windows that had long ago lost all the panes. The barn had been remodeled sometime in the 1960s to allow more natural light and air, but years of neglect had left the glass shattered and the building open to the elements. The Harringtons had begun work, putting in new flashings, sills, and doorjambs and adding flooring. I held my gun in my left hand and had Tinkie’s tucked in my waistband. The flashlight was in my jacket pocket.

  The soft murmur of voices came to me, and I felt my heart jolt. Had I found my missing friends? When I peeked into the dairy, I saw Hope and Charity seated at a table in front of a large silver bowl of liquid. Behind them were rows of feeding troughs and, at the far end, a milking machine.