The Trouble With Witches (21 page)

"Hello," she said in a small voice.

"Hi,
Tink
.
Nice to see you again," I replied pleasantly.

When she didn't answer, Juliet's smile faded, replaced with a look of concern.

Jason covered the moment by laying a hand on
Tink's
shoulder. "Darling, why don't you give Ophelia the gift you made for her?"

Without a word, and with her eyes still downcast,
Tink
walked like a puppet to the table and picked up a small package, wrapped in homemade paper. Returning, she handed me the gift. As she did, she finally looked up at me.

I almost dropped the small parcel. Her violet eyes were vacant.
Nobody home
.
The thought jumped into my head, but lucky for me, not out my mouth.

"
Ahh
, thank you,
Tink
," I stuttered, trying to recover myself.
"Very nice of you to think of me."

Juliet watched
Tink
proudly while I
unwrapped
the gift. Once free of its paper, the scent of roses and lavender crept up from the small, square muslin pouch I held in my hand.

"A sachet?"
I asked.

"Yes," Jason said with satisfaction. "
Tink
makes them all by herself and we sell them at craft shows. Don't we, darling?" he asked
Tink
.

Wordlessly, she nodded, her eyes once again fixed on the floor in front of her.

Before I could reply, Winnie's high voice called from the kitchen. "Dinner is served."

We ate a simple but delicious meal of vegetarian lasagna, fresh salad, and whole grain bread. Jason and Juliet carried most of the conversation, asking questions about my life in Summerset, my job at the library, what I liked to read, and so on. Jason told amusing stories, but he played to an audience of one—Juliet. Even when speaking directly to me, he would cast quick glances her way to gauge her reaction. But all during the conversation over dinner, the subject of psychics and the paranormal
did not
come up.

Winnie tried to join in with her high fluty voice when given the opportunity. Juliet acknowledged her remarks with tolerant looks, but Jason's face pinched with annoyance. And every time his expression changed, Winnie's level of exuberance drooped like a wilted flower.

Tink
ignored everyone. With her head down and her eyes fixed firmly on the table in front of her, she moved her fork from her plate to her mouth with all the emotion of a robot. Several times during the meal I caught Juliet watching her with a worried look on her face.

What was wrong with this kid? I was not an expert on children, but I'd been around enough kids at the library to know
Tink's
behavior was anything but normal.

The meal finished, Winnie went to the kitchen and came back with a teapot and three cups.

Juliet moved around the table to
Tink's
chair. Stroking her bent head, she gazed down at her. "It's time for your studies now, dear. Say good-night to everyone and I'll be in later to check on you."

Tink
rose without comment, mumbled a quick goodnight, and wandered off down the hall.

Juliet, her hands clasped tightly in front of her, watched
Tink's
retreating back. Sadness hovered around her like a fog.

Jason stood and crossed to stand behind his wife. He placed both hands on her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. She responded by leaning back against her husband.

It seemed Juliet drew strength from Jason's touch, and the air of sadness lifted. Turning to me, she smiled. "Why don't you and Jason enjoy your tea on the deck? I'll join you after we're finished cleaning up."

I stood quickly. "No, please, let me help."

She waved my request away with one hand. "No, you're our guest. It won't take Winnie and me long."

Winnie bustled toward me with cup in hand, so I had no choice but to do what Juliet requested. I followed Jason out onto the deck.

The moon I'd noticed when I arrived was high above the pine trees now, hanging in a sky littered with stars. We couldn't see the lake from where we sat—too many trees blocked the view—but I could hear the gentle lapping of the water on the rocks along the shore.

I looked over my shoulder toward the cabin I knew lay hidden in a clearing, past the pines that ringed the Finches' house. A chill crept up my spine.

"Did someone step on your grave?"

Startled, I whipped my head around to look at Jason sitting in one of the deck chairs. "What did you say?"

Light shining from the interior of the house cast his strong face in half shadow, but I could still see his smile.

"You shivered. It made me think of the old saying about when someone shivers; it means their grave has been stepped on." He leaned forward. "It's just an old saying. I'm sorry if it upset you."

"No, I'm not upset," I said, sitting on the deck chair next to him. "I was so wrapped up in the beauty here, your voice startled me."

Jason tilted his head back to look at the stars. "It is beautiful here, isn't it?" he said in a contented voice. "I love this place. Founding this community—it's a dream come true for me. When the world spins out of control, this place is my island of peace."

I tapped the side of my cup. "I don't mean to be snoopy…" Yeah, right, Jensen, I thought, pausing. "… but what exactly do you do here?"

Jason chuckled. "You're direct, aren't you?" Not waiting for me to answer, he continued. "We're studying the innate intuitiveness everyone is gifted with and to what degree."

"Psychic research?"
I took a sip of the hot tea.

"Yes." Jason's white teeth gleamed in the half-light. "Psychic talent is so misunderstood."

Try living with it, buster
. I kept that thought to myself.

"Now it's my turn to be direct," Jason said, turning his head to look at me. "Winnie believes your grandmother is a psychic. Is she?"

Until that night, no one had ever asked me straight up about Abby, and now both Juliet and Jason wanted to know about her. "
Ahh
, well," I hedged, "let's just say she has certain talents."

"Do you share those talents? Are you a psychic?"

"Are you?" I shot the question back at him.

He chuckled again. "You're not going to confide in me, are you? I don't blame you. As I said, psychics are misunderstood, at times even feared." He stopped and framed his answer. "No, I'm not a psychic, but I
am
working on developing what intuitiveness I do possess. It's a goal all of us have dedicated our lives to. That and spiritual growth."

"That's it?" I asked, perplexed. "That's all you're doing here?"

"Yes," Jason said, amused. "You sound like you don't believe me."

"I've heard stories." I stopped, trying to organize my thoughts.
"
Seances
, things disappearing."

Jason's laugh echoed across the lake. "You caught me."

I leaned forward in surprise.

Could it really be this easy to worm a confession out of him?

Jason noticed my shocked expression and laughed again. "Ophelia, in the past, in what seems a lifetime ago, I was a stage magician."

"What?"

"Magic, prestidigitation, sleight of hand, pulling rabbits out of a hat."

"I know about magic," I said, trying to absorb what his past might mean.

"Do you?" He leaned forward and watched me intently. "Do you really?"

"Of course," I said, not wanting to look in his eyes.

He and Juliet had asked pointed questions about whether Abby and I were psychics, but now he was crossing over into a subject I had no intention of discussing.

Jason slid back in his chair, breaking the moment. "Before I met Juliet, I played clubs on the East Coast. I suppose someone learned of my past, and from there, the rumors started."

I cocked my head. "So you don't hold séances?"

"Heavens, no."
He shook his head emphatically.

"Nothing disappears?"

"Only my socks.
I seem to be good at that, but I haven't figured out how to make them reappear." He grinned. "Not a very good magician, am I?" His grin slid away. "Meeting Juliet changed my life. She opened my eyes to real magic, the magic of discovering our own potential. Once I'd learned that what I did on stage seemed like such a sham—"

"You quit?" I asked, breaking in.

"I prefer the word 'retired,' " he said in a wry voice
. "
But yes, I stopped performing and devoted my life to self-discovery and—"

Before he could finish, the door opened and Juliet stepped out onto the deck, holding the teapot.

"Would you like more tea?" she asked.

I covered my cup with my hand. "No thank you, but it's very good."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it. A friend of ours sends it from England. I'd be happy to make a packet of the tea for you to take home," Juliet said graciously.

"That's very generous of you," I replied.

Jason stood and looked down at me. "If you'll excuse me, Ophelia, I always help
Tink
with her studies before she goes to bed. And I'm sure she's waiting for me." He smiled and shook my hand. "I enjoyed our conversation. Please come back."

I nodded my agreement.

Jason gave Juliet a quick kiss and left. She watched him leave with a look of concern on her face.

It was time for me to go. When I rose, Juliet turned to me.

"You're not leaving, are you?"

I glanced at my watch, but couldn't see the time in the dim light. "It must be getting late, and I should go."

"Please stay. This is such a treat, for me to entertain someone. Jason doesn't like a lot of company, so we don't have visitors often." She sighed. "I love our group, but it's nice to talk to someone from the outside for a change."

"All right.
If you're sure?"
I said, sitting.

"I'm sure," she replied, placed the teapot down on a table and sat in Jason's chair, casting a nervous glance back toward the door.