Chapter Sixteen

I sighed out loud. “Okay, but I don’t have much time. There’s something I have to take care of that has a very, very sensitive timeline.”

“Thanks. I’m certain that it won’t take you but a sec.”

“Let’s hope so.”

I followed Mrs. Smith inside the back of the café into the kitchen, noting how she managed to keep her hair so perfect all day long, while mine, I knew without looking in a mirror, needed a thorough redoing from all the running around. It had strands coming loose and moving about willy-nilly. Well, that had to wait as well. Do a reading. Get banking records. Then have a tantrum. And maybe not in that precise order…

“Granny,” I said, embracing my favorite person in all the world when she came forward to greet me.

“Sweeting. You’re looking a bit stressed.” She tucked a lock of hair behind my ear, giving my cheek a gentle pinch.

“I’m okay.” I hid my worry, giving her a bright smile.

“Hi, Charm,” Alison greeted me, getting up from the kitchen table and walking over to join us.

“Alison. How are you?” A carbon copy of her mom, Alison gave me a meek look from under her perfect brown bangs and ponytail.

“I’ve been better. Seems I’ve misplaced my engagement ring and Justin—my new fiancé—is expected to visit later today. Can you help me?”

“I’ll try. There’s never any guarantee, but I have a good record.”

“Charm can find anything,” Mrs. Smith added her vote of confidence with an edge to her tone that suggested I’d better live up to her prediction.

Alison nodded. “Is here okay?” She gestured around the room. “You know, to do the reading?”

“Sure, why not?” It would be faster. Tick tock. Tick tock. “Let’s sit at the table.”

We sat and I took her cool hands in mine. “Okay, close your eyes and think of the last time you saw the ring.”

She closed her eyes, her hands trembling a bit. An image of the ring on her left hand came to mind, not helping at all.

“Think of the last time you took it off,” I encouraged her, worrying that nothing was coming up.

Alison shivered, a grimace creasing the smooth skin of her face. She was blocking the image for some reason. Very strange. Maybe her mother was more enamored of her daughter marrying a Davidson than she was?

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, what do you see, Charm?” Mrs. Smith’s impatient voice cut through the room, making her daughter open her eyes, the expression within their deep pools of blueness worried and upset. And was that a touch of fear?

“Please, give me a moment,” I murmured. But the impatient mother pulled up a chair in her efforts to encourage results, and her settling in so close threatened to derail things. Alison tugged her hands away from mine, hugging them close to her sides.

“Alison,” her mother chastised. “You must try harder. We must protect the family’s reputation. If this gets out…”

I reached out and slipped my right hand over Mrs. Smith’s, encouraging her to pull back a bit. A terrifying cold seeped into my hand when our fingers touched, one almost burning in its intensity. I lurched in my chair when an image sprang fully formed in my mind, blurring my vision. I closed my eyes, unable to see anything but Mrs. Smith doing the unthinkable. Sour bile rose in my chest. What to do?

I opened my eyes and found Mrs. Smith staring at me, her blue eyes colder than the thick ice that remained frozen year-round circling the Artic Circle. I forced my face into some semblance of order, not wanting the woman to know about the scene she’d just exposed of her hitting her daughter. And her slanderous thoughts about Star being too popular for her own good. That her daughter should have been given her gifts.

“Alison, sit up and cooperate,” her mother demanded, taking her hands away from mine and tugging at her daughter’s shoulder to grab her attention.

Did she know what I had just seen? She appeared to be more interested in the engagement ring than anything else. Thank the goddess. I didn’t want to be in on such dreadful family secrets, or the disgusting envy of others. But, too late for that.

I reluctantly took her daughter’s hands again. We were both trembling. My teeth ached from the effort not to allow them to chatter with the dismal shock.

I closed my eyes, trying to see what I needed to see. The sooner I could get them out of here the better. Tick tock. Tick tock.

The ring flashed forward in my mind, the large solitaire faceted diamond gleaming in the darkness before the scene lightened a bit, showing it lying under something.

“I see it. It’s under a bed, tucked just between where the carpet is joined. It’s caught there, between the threads. Oh, and the bed is one with pink ruffles and an overhead canopy.”

I opened my eyes, relieved, but my body was still roiling from the ordeal. I could not imagine such a thing happening in our little town. In some ways, it felt as bad a murder. Does it matter more if the spirit or the body is harmed? Alison gave me a wan smile. I wanted to hug her close, not let her go. Was the hitting still happening? What should I do? What should I say?

“Thanks, that’s my bedroom,” Alison said.

“Oh, thank the good Lord above.” Mrs. Smith was all smiles, the coldness of her demeanor covered up with satisfaction. But I knew I would never see the woman in the same light again.

“Alison, please, if you could give me your hands one more time.”

Surprised, she did what I asked, offering them freely. I went back to the trance, seeking entry to any problems in her body. Finding none, I nodded. The hitting had not been recent. Maybe not for years. Still, it gave me a sense of disquiet. What should I do about it? “Thanks, it’s all good now. Let me know how things go, okay? If you ever need a friend, I’m here for you.”

Mrs. Smith gave me a mistrusting look through the wreath of smiles, tugging her daughter to her feet. A chill sluiced through me.

She pushed a few bills at me and hurried Alison from the café.

“What did you see, child?”

Granny took Alison’s seat at the table, her kind eyes concerned for my welfare. I bit my lip, trying to find the right words. In the end, I just spilled it.

“June has always had a bit of a mean streak—needing to control everything and everyone around her,” Granny said after absorbing the information. “Too worried about social conventions by half. It’s been hard on her family. And I believe Alison has taken the brunt of it.” She sighed and patted my hand. “But she’s a big girl now. Time for her to make her own life. You said it hadn’t been recent abuse, yes?”

“I don’t think so.” I shook my head, pondering.

“There’s something else we need to talk about, sweeting.”

“Okay.” I glanced at Granny, a frown knitting her brow. Oh boy, now what?

“Helen came by the café just after your aunt dropped me off. Oh, and don’t think I don’t know what you were up to, missy, sending me away on a fool’s errand. My sister could not act her way out of a wet paper bag.”

I blushed. “I wanted to solve the murder—murders,” I corrected. “Before you were touched by them. I didn’t want you hurt.”

“I’m a strong woman, Charm Mary McCall. You need me more right here—you all do. This affects our whole family and we will figure things out together.”

I nodded, properly chastised. Granny almost never used my full name.

“Now, there’s something else needs mentioning first. Helen has told me what you did for her.”

I fidgeted in my seat. There was no time for this discussion right now, but I couldn’t get up for the life of me, pinned firmly in place, revisiting my recent experience.

“It just happened.” I shrugged and glanced at the clock. Forty-five minutes had passed. Tick tock.

“The experience with Helen, the gift of healing, that only comes with the firstborn of our bloodline. Your sisters, on the other hand, may receive different abilities. I have never shared your heritage with all of you, and that’s on me. I had hoped perhaps it would skip this generation. Prayed to the goddess about it. Such heavy responsibilities come with it for one so young.” She shook her head, her lips pressed together. “So much will be asked of you, child, once word spreads.”

“What do you mean?” My breath froze in my lungs. A sense of impending information that would shift the entire direction of my life had me ready to leap up. Escape. I wanted to block my ears. Turn away. But some part of me needed to hear it. That part made me stay, glued to my seat. The ticking second hand no longer seemed to matter.

“We haven’t always made our home in Canada, sweeting. Before we emigrated here, we lived in Salem, Massachusetts. In the seventeen-hundreds. Back in the time of the accursed witch trials.”

“Witch trials?” Confused, I shook my head, the words falling out of me unbidden. “What? Are you saying we came from that horror?”

“Yes, our family was persecuted by their neighbors. At that time, it was too easy to point fingers. Superstitions and ignorance reigned in the New World. It was a brutal time to try to scratch out a living. It was far too easy to covet what good people had worked so hard to build—try to tear it all down or take it for your own.” Her eyes glazed over as she spoke, reliving a personal horror. “A terrible black mark on history. I only bring it up now to explain your heritage.” She stopped to take a deep, shuddering breath.

“What happened to our ancestors? Who were they?”

“Your eighth-removed great-grandmother was a renowned midwife and healer from the old country. One of the last witches to be accused. Mary Sarah Toogood. Fortunately, she managed to escape with the help of her jailer, who took pity on her while accepting a substantial bribe. We are her descendants. Her blood runs through us. It gives the first female born of each matriarchal family the gift of healing in various degrees of strength. Yours is very powerful, sweeting. Thank the goddess you were born in this century.”

A relieved expression came over her gentle face and she reached out to pat my hands where they were clenched on the tabletop. Her touch soothed me, giving me space to think.

I hesitated. I needed to know so much more. But where to start? But Granny continued without prompting.

“The part I hesitate to tell you, that I wish I didn’t have to share quite yet—well, this part is a bit more difficult to explain.”

“Harder than burning so-called witches alive at the stake?” The shock was wearing off, filling me with indignation for the plight of innocents. It didn’t matter that it had been long ago. And unlike what the bad mobster guy always parrots in the movies, it was personal.

“Yes, because it concerns a certain aspect of your gift.” Granny sighed heavily and shifted in her chair.

“What about my gift?”

“Do you wonder why I don’t have it—being firstborn?”

Confused, I chewed on my bottom lip, thinking. “But you have other gifts. You’re the kindest, biggest-hearted person I know. Everyone loves you, Granny. Everyone.” I nodded emphatically.

She smiled, a twinkle gleaming in her beautiful eyes. “Not everyone, sweeting, but it’s nice to be appreciated.”

“I’ll never forget that you took us in.” I wiped a tear threatening to run down my cheek. My best guess was that the last two days were catching up with me.

“You three have been the biggest blessings of my life.” She patted my hand once more. “Now, the gift only passes to the firstborn if they reach the age of twenty-one and remain chaste.”

“Chaste.” The old-fashioned word challenged me. I shook my head. “You mean stay a virgin?”

“Yes, and she only keeps the gift if she marries her one true love. And never goes with another. Ah—physically, I mean, as well as spiritually, of course.” Granny didn’t meet my eye. I was suddenly too hot and as red as a beet from blushing. Yikes, but this conversation had taken an unforeseen twist.

I bit down on my lip, harder. “Does that mean that you—” I couldn’t find the words. This was my granny, not some sex therapist. We never talked about such things. Rule number three, in fact. No swearing, no speaking ill of the dead and definitely no sex talk.

“I married your grandfather at eighteen and then met a man who was my one true love many years later, but that is another story for another day. And something I must share with you all before I pass on to let you know that what comes after this life—that it’s all good. But, suffice to say, my ancient history took me out of the running to be a healer in this lifetime.”

“O—kay.” I kept looking over her shoulder, to my favorite picture on this year’s calendar of snow-tipped Rocky Mountains gleaming in the golden sunshine. The month was January, and it was now July, but I wouldn’t let anyone flip the page over, finding the image satisfying. Why change what works? Letting my Granny know I was still a virgin was weird in the extreme and gave me a sudden wish to be sitting on top of that mountain enjoying the view. And even thinking of her passing on, well, my mind refused to even go there. Ever.

Another thought occurred to me as I kept my eyes averted, one of vital importance.

“If it’s that crucial to keeping the gift, how will I know for certain if he’s the right one? I mean, life doesn’t come with a bubble caption over anyone’s head saying, ‘he’s the one, right here, Charm, look no further. Step right up!’”

Granny let loose a good belly laugh. She wiped her eyes on her ever-present apron.

“Don’t worry, sweeting, you’re a strong woman—you’ll know. And he’ll most likely annoy you until you accept the truth of the matter.”

Loud noises made me start and look over in the direction they were coming from. Constable Ace Collins stood in the wide-open back door, big as life. Oh, boy, the blasted time. I looked over his head at the kitchen clock. Twelve-thirty. I grimaced. A half hour past the appointed hour.

“Mrs. Toogood. Miss McCall,” he said, removing his Stetson, his thick hair gleaming in the overhead lights. He gave a polite nod in Granny’s direction.

“Constable Collins,” Granny said, her careworn face softening into a smile. “You must call me Granny. Everyone does.”

He added a genuine smile. “Certainly, ma’am, it would be my honor. Granny it is.” He looked at me now, his expression shifting. The man could talk a person into admitting just about anything he wanted. Darn unfair. “Do you have what you promised me a half hour ago, Miss McCall?”

I jumped up, the spell broken. “Right away. I’ll just go get it.” I dashed from the room before anyone could utter another word and raced up the stairs. Grabbing the offending file from my night table, I turned and retraced my footsteps back to the kitchen.

I handed Ace the file and, trying to soften things, added a brief ever-so-sorry-smile to the package with an impromptu curtsy.

He took it from me, his expression inscrutable, but I noticed a slight twitching of his lips. Ha, got you.

I glanced at Granny and found her smiling broadly.

“I’ve marked all the suspicious entries for you.”

“Of course you have.” He gave the file a cursory glance.

“Are we still on for that barbecue later?” I asked brightly, rocking back and forth on my heels, my hands tucked behind my back. Hopefully the picture of innocence. Maybe I needed to change my wardrobe? Buy a modest, frilly dress or three? Nah, so not me.

“I’m game, if you are. Best way I know how to keep an eye on you. Because if there ever was a woman who needed watching, it’s you, Miss McCall.”

“What? I’ve been nothing but helpful to the case. If you think I’ll stand here and accept your verdict, Sheriff, then you have another think coming!”

“It’s constable, ma’am.”

“Why you—”

“Sweeting, I think you’re needed in the café. I’ll see the constable out.”

The sounds of loud conversation slipped through the heat of my indignation. Now what? One of the strippers get a little too friendly with someone’s significant other?