The Trouble With Witches (11 page)
We easily found the town park holding the spaghetti dinner. Abby and I pulled in to the parking lot, and after turning the SUV off, we sat and surveyed the park.
A large poster with a graph, tacked to a post, indicated how much money had been raised for the new ball field. Bright balloons hung around the sign, drawing attention to it. Banners advertising a drawing for free gifts donated by local business hung from the trees.
Parents sat in lawn chairs sprinkled across the green grass, while small children played on the merry-go-round and slid down the slide. Older children, spiffed out in baseball uniforms, circulated through the crowd selling chances for the drawing.
I turned and looked at Abby. "Okay, Ace, what do we do now?" I asked.
"We mingle. Get acquainted with people," she replied with a slight shrug.
My lips twisted into a frown. "And I'm
so
good at that," I answered with a note of sarcasm.
"It's not hard."
Easy for her to say.
Abby had a grace, a
style, that
drew people to her. I may have inherited some of her talents, but whatever gene was responsible for Abby's natural charm had definitely passed me by. Crowds made me nervous and ill at ease. When confronted with strangers, words would freeze in my mouth like a warm tongue on a cold pump handle. The only remedy that worked was a fast retreat into sarcasm.
While I thought about my lack of social skills, I continued to watch the groups clustered around the park. Several people were standing in line by the picnic tables. The tables were covered with pots of spaghetti, bowls of salads, and trays of desserts. Behind the table, several people stood serving the food to the waiting line. And they were dressed all in white. They must have been the "shadows," the elusive group members Rick had referred to.
"Abby," I said, motioning toward the tables. "Suppose those are members of PSI?"
"Yes," she said, her eyes narrowing as she watched them.
I shook my head. "How can someone serve spaghetti dressed in white?"
"Very carefully?" she replied, arching an eyebrow.
"Funny." My words were accompanied by a slow roll of my eyes. I pushed the SUV door open. "We're not going to accomplish anything sitting here. Let's go mingle."
"Wait," she said, laying a hand on my arm. "Do you see the man you met in the woods today?"
Scanning the group in white, I shook my head. "No, I don't."
I exited the SUV, and grabbing the lawn chairs out of the back, followed Abby across the park.
Tonight, Abby wore one of her flowing skirts and matching tops. The skirt drifted around her ankles as she walked, and gave her an appearance of almost floating across the grass. Strangers stopped to greet her with a smile and a shake of the hand. Me, I stood at her side, silent, and received nods and half smiles.
Nope, I did
not
inherit the charm gene.
As we walked on, Abby stole a glance my way. "You know, Ophelia, you need to work on your people skills."
"What people skills?"
"Exactly my point," she said in a sardonic tone.
I stopped. "See that shade tree over there?" I said, pointing to an unoccupied space. "You mingle. I'm parking myself over there."
After striding over to the tree, I planted myself in the lawn chair and did what I do best. Watch and observe. It's amazing what you can learn about people if you pay attention.
It didn't take long for my attention to be drawn to a short woman dressed in white. Short and dumpy—no doubt the one Rick said they called Winnie, exactly as he had described her.
And white was definitely not a good color for her. It made her wide hips look even wider. So did the tunic and long pants she wore. They highlighted every roll, every bump. Her dark hair with gray strands was twisted around the top of her head in a tight bun, and straggly strands hung around her plump face. Small eyes peered out from behind heavy black glasses. Her hands flitted nervously about her while she talked to another woman also dressed in white.
The other woman was Winnie's antithesis. She was as tall and rangy as Winnie was short and squat. And on her, the tunic and pants looked good. They complemented her slim frame, and the dark amulet she wore around her neck shone against the all-white background.
Her manner was also the opposite of Winnie's. Where Winnie seemed to vibrate with nervous energy, the other woman radiated calm. She listened with a patient look on her face as Winnie flung her hands about, talking.
I was so busy watching the tall woman that I quit paying attention to Winnie.
Big mistake.
If I'd been watching her, I might have caught her edgy glances. I didn't, not until it was too late.
When I finally turned my attention from the tall woman back to Winnie, I saw her looking my way with an anxious expression on her face. I watched the tall woman's eyes follow Winnie's. Looking quickly over my shoulder, I checked to see what the two women stared at so intently.
Nope, nothing behind me.
Crap. Me—they stared at me.
With a quick pat on Winnie's plump arm, the tall woman turned away from her and purposely walked straight toward me.
I lowered my head and slouched in my chair. If I shrank myself small enough, maybe she'd pass me by. I glanced up quickly at the woman. Nope. She still headed my way, her long strides eating up the ground between us. Looking back down, I studied my hand lying passively in my lap. When I felt her presence in my space, I raised my eyes to her face.
"Hi," she said while she bent slightly at the waist and extended a hand, "I'm Juliet Finch."
A striking woman, she possessed an angular face with hazel eyes.
Hazel eyes that probed mine.
Standing, I took a deep breath. Juliet seemed to tower over my five-foot-four height, and I needed to tip my head back a bit in order to maintain eye contact. "My pleasure," I replied, shaking her hand. "I'm Ophelia Jensen."
"Are you new to the community, or vacationing here?" she asked in a friendly voice.
That's funny. Evidently her husband didn't tell her about running into me at the lake. I decided not to enlighten Juliet about my meeting with Jason.
And
Tink
.
"Vacationing."
Juliet gave me a brilliant smile. "This is a wonderful place for relaxing. There are so many beautiful lakes around here. Where are you staying?"
"At
A look of surprise crossed her face. "We live on
Arnie's
cabins?"
Arnie
?
Arnie
who? Rick had neglected to tell me who owned the cabin we were staying in. At a loss how to respond, I smiled like an idiot and wobbled my head in way that could be taken as either a no or a yes.
Taking my wishy-washy nod as an affirmative answer, a bright smile lit Juliet's face. "That
Arnie's
quite a character. He's lived on the lake forever, but he's a little on the reclusive side."
I thought of the man Abby and I had seen in the twilight last night. He looked pretty reclusive to me. "Does
Arnie
have red hair?" I asked, giving it a shot.
"Oh no."
Juliet's smile faded to a slight frown. "
Arnie's
about eighty-four and quite bald. Why?"
"Last night we almost ran into a man with red hair.
Literally.
He was standing in the middle of the road as we neared the cabin."
Her hands, which had been hanging loosely at her sides, clenched, and her frown deepened.
"Duane Hobbs."
"Who's Duane Hobbs?"
With effort, she seemed to concentrate on relaxing her fingers. An uncomfortable silence hung in the air while she slowly smoothed imaginary creases from her tunic before she spoke. "Duane's a so-called handyman around the lake, but I wouldn't let him do any work for me if I were you."
A thousand questions bounced around in my head, but only one came rolling off my tongue. "Why?"
"He's…" She paused. "…
strange
."
The one word I'd heard so much lately popped into my head. "Spooky?"
"Yes," she said with a sigh. "That's a good word to describe him. He wanders around the woods at all hours, doing God knows what. I guess he wasn't always like this. At one time, he was the pride of the community.
A high school hero.
But then he went off to Vietnam and has never been the same since."
Hmm.
I wondered why Rick hadn't mentioned Duane Hobbs. Had he already checked into the man's background and found nothing? I scuffed the ground in front of my chair with my toe. It would've been nice if Rick had informed of us of some strange guy wandering around.
"Is he dangerous?"
"No. I don't think so. I guess there was a problem a few years ago when some developers were looking into building a public boat ramp on the north side of the lake.
Rumors of vandalism, that kind of thing.
But no one was hurt and they never proved Duane was the one responsible."
"Did they build the boat ramp?"
"No, it turned out to be too expensive. Since then, the lake has remained untouched by developers."
"And that's the way Duane likes it?"
"Yes, he resents outsiders."
"Like your group?" I asked pointedly.
Juliet looked at me in surprise. "Yes," she replied. As she flipped a strand of hair over her shoulder, her eyes narrowed and her gaze drifted toward the children playing nearby.
"Outsiders.
Ha. If anyone—"
But before she could finish, a soccer ball careened across the grass toward us, with a small boy following it in fast pursuit, oblivious to everything around him. Both the ball and the boy came to a sudden stop near her foot. Crouching down eye level to the little boy, Juliet picked up the ball and handed it to him. Tousling his hair, she grinned warmly at the child. "Here you are, Matthew. Try and keep it over on the playground."
"Yes, ma'am," he replied, returning her grin with a gap-toothed smile of his own.
Straightening, Juliet watched the little boy scamper back to his playmates.
"Do you have children?" I asked, pretending not to know about
Tink
. I wanted to see what she'd say.
Still watching the children play, a wistful look crossed Juliet's face before she turned to me.
"In a way.
Jason and I are raising my sister's child."
"Oh," I said, scanning the children at play. "Which one is she?"
Once again she ran her hands nervously over her tunic. "
Tink
, my niece, isn't here. She's…" Her voice trailed off while her attention shifted to the children. "… rather
frail,
and these things tend to be too much excitement for her to handle."
Frail?
The girl I'd met at the lake didn't seem frail to me.
Thin, yes, but not frail.
I remembered how she scampered up the hill after Jason. Maybe she had some kind of illness, not evident when one first met her. Maybe that's why they worried about her.
Shifting forward in my chair, I looked up at her with sympathy. "That's too bad. It must be difficult for her not to play with other children."
"Yes, yes, it is," she said abruptly. Looking down at me, she grasped my hand and gave it a quick shake. "It was nice meeting you, Ophelia. I hope you enjoy your stay at
Gunhammer
."
Before I could reply, she pivoted and walked with long strides back to where Winnie still stood serving spaghetti.
I shook my head in disbelief. Usually, parents were more than happy to talk about their offspring, but the mention of Juliet's niece had brought a sudden end to our conversation. Only one thought came to mind.
Why?
Chapter Nine
