Sapphire Nights (Crystal Magic Book 1)(22)
“Sorry. The deputy was here and he’s been invading my privacy and got me jumpy. What happened last night?”
“Mrs. Kennedy happened. She had a tantrum and ordered security to throw everyone out of the parking lot. Not everyone is fit enough to walk up through the woods, but a few of us tried. There’s yellow tape all over the place. There weren’t enough of us to surround the police boundaries to do a proper exorcism. Cass would have made it happen, but on our own, we failed. Now that section will stay as polluted as the rest.”
She hurried off to help a customer, and they didn’t have a chance to talk again until mid-morning.
“What precisely were you hoping to accomplish with an exorcism?” Sam asked as Mariah stopped to sip tea.
“Ward off evil, mostly,” Mariah explained. “It’s not as if there’s a spirit handbook.”
Sam fretted about the fire image in her tarot cards—after the séance spirit had said fire cleansed evil. It sounded a lot like someone was setting the stage for arson. Apparently, whoever she was had a suspicious mind.
“Did you ask the other merchants if I can putter in their planters?” Sam changed the subject to one more pleasant.
“They all said root away to your heart’s content. It’s not as if we have a nursery up here to keep the pots looking good. We’ve threatened to order the mayor to provide plants if he wants the wretched things kept up. The rich are used to picking up phones and hiring everyone to do everything.” Mariah’s long black braid bobbed with righteous indignation.
“Socialism, I like it,” Sam said, her lip twitching in amusement at her friend’s passion.
They returned to work. The tourist trade might be declining, but Dinah’s was the only eatery in town. She wouldn’t go out of business even in winter. It was well after lunch before Sam could escape. The planters called to her. She was glad everyone thought it was okay for her to play in their dirt.
She stopped to remove some faded yellow pansies from the antique store’s planter. She loved their cheerful little faces but pansies were an annual, and these had passed their prime. She hated to compost them—even if she had a compost pile, which she didn’t. So she tucked them into a shady corner beside the store and watered them down, just to see if she could keep them going to brighten a dull corner.
With that thought in mind, she decided to wander up the cemetery hill first. Old lots often had perennials that came up even after the house was long gone. They only bloomed a short time, so they were better used around foundations and bare lots than in planters, but if no one objected, they’d add color to dusty streets and odd corners.
As she climbed, she found wild plots of milkvetch and yarrow and what was probably wild columbine. They weren’t showy, but they were a nice start. Maybe some native grasses to add soft feathery seeds. Watering would be a problem. She dug around in the soil to see how hard it was and marked her findings to come back and separate later. The earth here smelled and felt rich, but she didn’t know what she’d find in town.
Cass’s grounds were large and shaded by old pines. She’d have to ask permission before digging up anything there, so she walked on past to the cemetery.
She studied the graveyard before going in. The entry was marked by an old wrought iron arch that must once have held a sign, but any other fencing had disappeared over the years, probably melted for other purposes. Wandering in to investigate a wild rose, she noticed the newer gravestones seemed sound. A huge expensive vault bore the Kennedy name. Most of the older stones had fallen or disappeared into the weeds over the years. The plots were overgrown with grasses, but not the thistles and trees that would have sprouted after years of neglect. Someone occasionally came through and cleaned up.
She found what appeared to be spent daffodils and lilies and even one old tea rose among the weeds. Those were a good start. If they’d survived all these years, they’d be hardy. She needed to poke around Cass’s place and find a spade and clippers.
The earth here felt more alive than back in town. Perhaps because she was less distracted? Soaking up the refreshing vibrations and the warmth of the sun, Sam returned to the road and followed a path past the cemetery to higher ground. Before she got far, the deputy’s car pulled off the end of the road. He got out wearing his annoying reflective sunglasses.
She waited for him to catch up, again noting his limp. Had he been injured in the line of duty? Or could it be an old football injury that had prevented him from passing the physicals for a major police force, leaving him side-lined here in rural nowhere? She didn’t know him well enough to ask.
Why was she about to trust him with what she didn’t know? If he had discovered she had no criminal record, did it matter? Could she hope he was discreet? She didn’t want an entire town full of busybody witches clucking over her.
As she realized what she was thinking, she chuckled and managed to greet Walker with a smile. “I just realized I’ve come to accept that this town is full of witches.”
He laughed. He had a deep, bone-shaking tenor laugh, which made her like him a lot better.
“Spiritualists,” he corrected, tucking his glasses between the buttons of his shirt. She almost sighed in relief once she was able to see his jade-green eyes. Despite his eye color and carved cheekbones, he looked more flat-featured without the glasses, which was why he probably wore them. For some reason, she trusted his vaguely foreign appearance more than the stiff sunglasses-wearing police officer guise.