One Hex of a Wedding Read online

  “You guys have been busy,” I said, turning around to take it all in, amazed that they’d been able to clear it out in one afternoon.

  “Jimmy and White Deer worked on it while I was at the station. Jimmy brought a couple of his buddies over from the enclave and they kicked ass before going back out for their meeting. I owe those guys a big one.” She dropped into one of the accent chairs that had remained untouched. “That note scared the hell out of me. It looks like it was mailed Friday, from the postmark, but didn’t show up on my desk until this morning.”

  I settled down next to her. “Bonner’s taking this seriously, right?” The last thing she needed was her boss to blow off what was happening, as was often the case when women were harassed in a predominately male occupation.

  “Yeah, he is. As I said, they dusted the note for prints but nada, and they’re going to check every piece of mail that comes addressed to my desk at work.” She sighed, then shook her head. “I’m so sorry. I forgot to ask how Joe’s doing. He get home okay?”

  I grimaced. “He’ll be fine. Unless my family scares him off. Let’s get busy, shall we? I don’t want to be too late tonight, in case he decides to do them all in and stuff them in the shed out back.”

  We decided to work our way through the house, from the kitchen up to her bedroom. Murray put on a CD and as a rhythmic drumbeat filled the air, I grounded myself. Holding a crystal in either hand, I locked my energy with that of the deep earth mana that rose up through the floor-boards. White Deer took out her rattle, while Murray lit the smudge stick and picked up a red hawk’s feather. As the swirling scent of sage rose to encompass the room, I began to slip into trance.

  We started slow, circling the perimeter of the room. As I slid deeper into the music, I sensed the same disturbance that I’d picked up on that morning—as if someone had broken through the charms of protection Murray had created. The presence violated the warnings to beware and tread gently.

  Step by step, we traversed the boundaries of the kitchen, the smoke from the sage rising to clear negativity from the air, the sound of White Deer’s rattle shaking up whatever had gotten tangled in Murray’s space, the light shining from my crystals reaching out to push back the invasive tide that had rolled through in the wake of the intruder.

  We carried the wave before us, building it, charging it, amplifying it as we entered the living room. The snakes, coiled in their cages, harkened to attention, tongues flickering as we passed by. The cats, Snidely and Whiplash, curled on one of the large overstuffed chairs. They blinked but stayed where they were, content to let us do our work.

  Up the stairs we worked our way, eating away at the edge of the etheric trail Murray’s unwelcome visitor had left behind. As we progressed, I knew with total assured-ness that the intruder was a man and with equal certainty that he wasn’t through bothering her, but I held my tongue. We’d discuss our impressions after we were done, and I didn’t want to interrupt the flow that we’d built. But as we came to Murray’s bedroom, a cold sweat broke out on my forehead and a sudden fear swept over me that whoever it was, was still here—hiding in the dark shadows of her attic.

  White Deer glanced at me, her eyes luminous and deep. She inclined her head ever so slightly and I knew that she felt the same thing as me.

  We entered the bedroom and I immediately felt eyes on my back. Eyes watching, eyes staring, ears listening. And then, bam—a blast—right between my eyes and I heard a voice in my head shouting, “Pay attention to me!” I stumbled and landed on the bed. White Deer was by my side instantly, and Murray shoved the censer holding the smudge stick onto the dresser and joined us. I shook my head.

  “Holy hell, I didn’t expect that,” I said, rubbing my head. I’d been zapped like this once before, but the energy behind that incident had been of a far different sort. I felt like I’d just taken a nosedive into a vortex of slimy, voyeuristic energy.

  “Are you all right?” White Deer pushed back my bangs and examined my forehead. “You’re broadcasting like a high-powered radio station.” She motioned to Mur. “Get her a cool washcloth, Anna.”

  Murray rushed to the bathroom and brought back a damp cloth, which she’d sprinkled with a little peppermint oil. The icy scent helped revive me, shaking me out of the fugue into which I’d been unceremoniously dumped. As I shook the cobwebs out of my brain, I realized that the feeling of being watched had grown stronger.

  “Mur, does your window look out on another house?”

  “Why?” She took the cloth and put it in the laundry basket. “How’s your head?” She sat on one side of me, White Deer on the other.

  “Better. No permanent damage, I think. But listen, whatever the energy was, it’s still hanging around.”

  “Oh great. You mean I’ve got a ghost?”

  “No,” I said, trying to articulate my thoughts. Finding the right words wasn’t easy. Feelings, hunches, intuition don’t always lend themselves to verbalization. “I think somebody’s spying on you. It feels like he’s here, in this room.” I closed my eyes trying to zero in on the direction from which the energy was coming.

  White Deer frowned. “Here,” she said, putting her hands on my shoulders. Her calming nature streamed through me, anchoring me so that I could focus with a clear mind.

  Within seconds, I turned toward the lamp on the night-stand, walked over, and yanked off the shade. I gazed at the base, trying to figure out what I was doing. I tipped it upside down and found myself staring at a small, black button. “What the hell is this?”

  Murray slowly took the lamp in hand, eyeing the device. She held her finger to her lips, then cautiously set the lamp down. “I don’t know—looks like a hairball the cats coughed up,” she said.

  Confused, I opened my mouth but she shook her head and then motioned for us to follow her out of the room. She led us downstairs and out on the porch. “A bug. That damned thing is a bug. I didn’t want whoever it is that put it there to know we’d found it.”

  White Deer paled. “A bug? You mean somebody’s been listening to you?”

  Murray closed her eyes and leaned against the railing. “Me . . . and Jimmy.” Grimacing, she dashed down the stairs where she promptly threw up in the bushes. She turned on the hose and rinsed out her mouth, then stared bleakly at her house. “Who’s doing this? I can’t believe that somebody’s been in my bedroom—listening to us. Jimmy’s going to go ballistic, and there’s nobody for him to take it out on.”

  White Deer ran down the stairs and took her arm, leading her back to the porch. “Breathe deep. Come on. In. Out . . . that’s right. Another breath.”

  “We can’t clear the house until we know if we’ve found all of them,” I said. “Have Deacon and Greg help you go through every closet, every cupboard. Where there’s one, there might be more.”

  Murray nodded. “Yeah, I’ll call them now and have them come over with one of the chiphead gurus in the office.”

  I had to leave, but as I looked back at the beautiful Victorian that Mur had worked so hard to renovate, I wanted to cry. I knew what it was like to feel at risk in my own home. That Murray had to go through the same thing galled me. Angry, wanting to go smash the device attached to her lamp, all I could do was reassure her that I was her friend. And I knew that wasn’t enough.

  AS I WALKED through the door to my house, I realized that I’d forgotten to ask them about my necklace. Considering what we’d found, however, my worries over some fuzzy energy on a string of crystal beads were insignificant.

  I was greeted by a quiet and peaceful house. My mother and father were gone, along with Grandma M. Rose had stayed, talking to the kids. Joe was in bed, fast asleep. I watched his chest gently rise and fall for a few moments and leaned over and kissed him on the forehead, then dropped the velvet bag with the necklace in my jewelry box and went downstairs.

  Rose had made a pot of Orange Spice tea and added honey. As I joined her, she poured it over ice and we went into the living room. Kip had been showing his aunt a
few of his projects from computer camp. He looked up as we entered the room.

  “Time for bed, Kip. I’ll be upstairs to check on you after a while.” He ran over and gave me a peck on the cheek, then took off upstairs.

  Rose grinned, watching him leave. “Miranda’s on the roof. I swear, I don’t know how you manage it. Aren’t you afraid she’ll fall off?”

  “Only if she decides she can fly and crawls over the guardrail,” I said, curling up on the sofa next to her. “So, was Grandma mad at me?”

  Rose smiled. “She’s always mad at you. Remember? I’m her favorite, just like you were Nanna’s. But I think she’s equally pissed at me, now that she knows Charles and I are breaking up. She can’t understand why.”

  “I wondered about that myself. We really haven’t had a chance to talk since the party. What happened?”

  She shrugged. “What usually happens? Charley met a younger woman. And another one. And another. And then he found out about my affair. So, he got his secretary pregnant and decided to ditch me.”

  “Your affair? You cheated on him?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. My sister had to be one of the most straitlaced women I knew. How could she, of all people, have fallen into an affair?

  Coloring, she hung her head. “Not until after I found out about the first few he had. I thought I could do it, Emmy. I thought I could handle it. You know, the rich-bitch life, with him leading his life and me leading mine, and we go on, appearing the perfect couple. Our friends didn’t have to know. But I couldn’t.”

  I knew all too well about keeping up appearances. I’d done it through Roy’s increasing anger and abuse for several years, until he set the bar so high even I couldn’t leap over it. “Who did you get involved with?”

  She grinned, a little sheepish. “You’re going to laugh. He was my Pilates trainer. I started going to the gym every day. You know the routine. If I can just make myself pretty enough, he’ll quit seeing those other women. Josh and I started talking after my workouts, then we went out to coffee. One thing led to another. But even though I liked him, I always felt like such a loser.”

  “What happened? You said Charley found out?”

  “Yeah, and I guess he believes in the double standard, because he blew up. I thought he was going to have a stroke, he was so mad. He threatened to kick me out with just the clothes on my back until I pointed out his many indiscretions and asked him just what he thought our friends would say if I told them how long it had been going on. And I had proof.”

  I stared at her. “Oh Rosy, not a private detective?”

  She blushed. “Yes, I hired a PI to follow him. I kept asking if something was wrong and he kept telling me I was just imagining things, that I needed help because I was so jealous. So, I finally decided to find out once and for all. I’ve got the pictures, and he knows it. I showed him a couple of them. That put an end to his threats to kick me out.”

  “Hold on,” I said. We needed something a little stronger than iced tea for this discussion. I went in the kitchen and foraged through the cupboards until I found a package of mint Oreos.

  As I arranged them on a plate, I thought about what Rose had done. I’d always prided myself on never snooping on Roy. For some reason, it had been a point of honor, but now I began to understand just why a woman might hire a PI. Roy had pulled the old “you’re imagining things” spiel on me, and I’d spent an extra year in the marriage trying to convince myself that if I just tried hard enough, everything would be okay. Now, it seemed like a clear case of self-delusion. I hadn’t been willing to find out what I’d probably known in my gut.

  I carried the plate back into the living room and settled down on the sofa. “Eat. Sugar soothes the spirit.”

  She grinned, fingering one of the cookies. “Some things never change, Emmy. So, after I showed him the pictures, we agreed to part ways, to divide the estate equally, and to keep mudslinging out of the papers.” She sniffled. “We’ve been oh-so-civil about it. Our divorce will be final in November.”

  I stared at her for a moment, then slid over and wrapped my arm around her shoulder. We hadn’t sat like this since childhood, snuggled together on a sofa. “You aren’t losing anybody who’s worth keeping, Rosy. You’re going to be okay. Look at me. I made it back after a divorce, and I have kids. You’re going to receive a good settlement. You’ll be okay.”

  Rose gave me a long look, then shook her head. “You don’t get it, do you? Of course you made it. You’re strong. Stronger than I could ever hope to be. Nanna taught you to trust in yourself, a gift that Grandma M. never gave to me. And Mother never thought to teach us self-confidence. She just assumed it should come naturally. I don’t know if I can do it. I don’t know if I can lose my husband and home and still hold my head up. That’s all I’ve got, Emmy.”

  “Bullshit. You’re a McGrady, and we McGradys always survive. You just have to find out what you love and follow your passion, and I’m not talking about a man. I love Joe more than I thought I ever could love anyone again, but if I hadn’t met him, I’d be okay because I have my shop. And I love my life.”

  “Do you realize how much I admire you, Emmy?” Rose said, smiling shyly. “I’ve always been jealous of you. You’re courageous and you had the guts to stand up and say ‘I won’t take it anymore’ when Roy hurt you. You didn’t play games behind his back. You had the guts to start a business, to make it work. And now you’re getting married again. You’re incredible!”

  I blinked, totally unprepared for the way the evening had turned out. Rose and I hadn’t talked like this for years. “I’ve got a secret to tell you, Rose,” I said, debating on whether or not to say anything. Very few people knew about a part of my past that I kept hidden. “Do you remember a few years back, before I moved here, how the folks took the kids for a week?”

  She shook her head. “Barely. I was too busy with . . . whatever it was I was doing. Chairing some party or fund-raiser or something.”

  “When I left Roy, before Murray convinced me to move to Chiqetaw, I fell into a deep depression. It was hard for me to think, hard for me to see my way through the darkness. One night, I swallowed a handful of pills. I was hurting so bad that I couldn’t see any other option.”

  “Oh my God, do Mom and Dad know about this?”

  “No. They still think I had a horrible case of the flu. Randa found me throwing up in the bathroom, and she didn’t know what to do so she called Murray, who called a mutual friend to come over and make sure I wasn’t going to die. Apparently, I hadn’t taken enough to do myself in, but I’d still made the attempt. An hour later, Mur showed up. She must have driven like a bat out of hell to get to Seattle that quickly. When she arrived, she packed the kids off to our folks’, and spent a week helping me sort myself out. That’s when she convinced me to move to Chiqetaw. I owe her my life.”

  I closed my eyes. Even the kids had never known about the pills. They’d thought I’d been sick because that’s what Murray told them. In fact, Mur was the only person who knew what really happened until now. I’d always intended to keep it that way, but Rose needed shoring up. She needed to know that I wasn’t invincible, that I’d pulled back from that terrifying edge, just like she would.

  Rose sighed. “I didn’t know any of that. I was too wrapped up in my own world to pay much attention to what was going on with the family. I regret it now. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me.”

  I shrugged. “Past is past. It’s over, and I’m happy now, and the kids have turned out relatively well-adjusted, regardless of Roy’s poor parenting and my breakdown.” I glanced up at the clock. “I’m beat. I need to go to bed. Hey, you want to stay over? I can make up the sofa for you.”

  She shook her head. “No, I’ll go back to the hotel. But Emmy . . . thanks. Thanks for being here—and thanks for not giving up on me. I miss doing sister stuff. From now on, I promise to keep in touch.”

  As I waited on the porch until she made it safely to her car, I realize
d that I loved her. All these years I’d felt rather indifferent, but now it seemed like we’d forged a reconnection. One I was determined to keep alive.

  I WAS DRESSED and ready to head out to Jimbo’s by ten the next morning. Joe was healing up, though he wisely decided to spend the day puttering around the house.

  “I’m a medic,” he said. “I’m not stupid. I want to be able to go back to work after our wedding. The graze wasn’t bad, but the bruise is horrible.” He submitted when I insisted on putting a comfrey poultice on his shoulder.

  “You promise me you’ll take it easy?”

  “All right, all right. What are you going to do?”

  I bit my lip. I didn’t want to tell him I was going out to Jimbo’s. He’d only insist on coming along. “Wedding stuff,” I said, figuring that I’d stop at the florists on the way home and see how the flowers were coming along. That way I wouldn’t be lying. “I’ll be out for a while, so don’t worry. I’m taking my cell phone, though.”

  I drove the winding road to Miner’s Lake mulling over all the chaos that had happened. The brief thought that it might be connected to the fuzzy energy around my necklace crossed my mind, but that seemed too far-fetched. For one thing, Murray’s problems had been going on for quite a bit longer than I’d owned the choker.

  Usually when things went down, I felt like the prime target, but this time the events swirled around me, touching the lives of my friends and loved ones. Joe’s shoulder, of course, impacted me directly, but it still hadn’t been me out on that meadow taking the bullet. Murray was my best friend, but I wasn’t the one facing a stalker. And I’d already been through my divorce, so I wasn’t in that frantic, confused phase that Rose was going through as she mourned her lost relationship.