Starlight Web: A Moonshadow Bay Novel, Book 1 Page 4

  Ari was a self-employed hairdresser. She had a salon in her house, and had quite a number of clients. She was good—very good—and was usually booked solid for several weeks in advance.

  As we watched the show, I began to relax a little. Outside, the snow began to fall again, and the world outside the big bay window looked luminous and beautiful.

  I glanced at my phone. Ellison had tried to call me four times today, and there were a dozen texts from him, all screaming about his precious convertible and how he was going to sue me. I stared at the jarring words on the screen. For the first time in months, I felt really, truly happy. I quietly blocked his calls and erased his texts, and went back to watching the show.

  The next morning, I decided that it was time to fill the fridge, reacquaint myself with the town, and as much as I was reluctant to, I would contact Conjure Ink and ask about the job.

  I dressed with care—if they asked me in for an interview right away, I wanted to look good. I decided on black jeans, a royal blue tank with silver trim below the bust line, and a black lace overshirt shirt. I threaded a silver belt through my belt loops. Then, after zipping up my ankle boots that had chunky heels so I wouldn’t slip in the snow, I brushed my hair back, holding the cascade of waves in place with a bright blue headband. I finished with my makeup. I loved the glamour girl look, and I could pull off heavy black eyeliner and a deep purple lip lacquer. One thing about the extra weight I carried—it tended to smooth out some of the little lines that had begun to appear. I was a month away from turning forty-one, and I was determined to enjoy this decade, given my twenties and thirties had been increasingly unpleasant.

  Heading downstairs, I made sure my reading glasses were in my purse before I went hunting for coffee and food.

  Moonshadow Bay was close to sea level, but I lived up on a hill and I noticed as I drove down into the main part of town that I had considerably more snow than the lower-lying houses. I found an espresso stand—Jitterbug Jolt—and ordered a triple-shot peppermint mocha with extra whipped cream. If Ellison had been around, I would have done without the whipped cream and asked for sugar-free, but he wasn’t, so I didn’t.

  The freedom of being out from under his scrutiny hit me full force as I prepared to head into the supermarket. No more kale, no more low-fat dressing and sugar-free healthy muffins. No more bean sprouts and lean chicken breast. I could buy whatever the hell I wanted and not have him watching every mouthful of food that I put between my lips. All that the enforced dieting had done was make me miserable. Calories in, calories out, my ass.

  Laughing, I grabbed a cart and headed inside. As I began to peruse the aisles, I heard someone calling my name.

  “January? January Jaxson, is that you?”

  I turned to see Millie O’Conner, one of my high school buddies. I hadn’t seen her in about a decade, when I was on a trip home during the holidays and we ran across each other in the local BayMart Shopping Mall.

  “Millie! Hey, how are you?” I wheeled my cart out of the center of the aisle. “What’s up?”

  “Well, I’m now the chief of police,” she said, grinning. She had been a detective on the force last time we had run across one another.

  “Congrats!” I was genuinely happy for her. Millie had always been one of those girls who never took guff from anybody, and never let bullying go on if she could step in. “I’ve moved back to town,” I said. “Just the day before yesterday.”

  Her smile slid away. “I’m so sorry about your folks. I heard about the accident. I would have come to the funeral, but I was out on a case that day and couldn’t get away.” She ducked her head. “Your parents were a fixture in the community. It won’t be the same without them. But I’m glad to hear you moved back. Is your husband with you?”

  I could tell she was trying to diplomatically ask if I was still married.

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “I left him back in Seattle with his soon-to-be trophy wife. I wasn’t good-enough arm candy. He also bilked me out of my half of the magazine and the house, so if I sound a little bitter, well…I am.” I snorted. “Anyway, I am truly happy to be back. And trust me, I’m never, ever getting married again.”

  She laughed. “You say that now, but I bet somebody will make you sit up and take notice. I’m glad that you’re free of him, though, and I’m sorry he was such an asshole.” She glanced at her cart. “I’d love to stick around and chat, but I need to get the ice cream home before it melts, and then head in to work. Luckily, it’s a slow day, crime-wise.”

  We exchanged contact info and headed in our respective directions.

  The house was pretty much empty except for the cocoa and cookies that Ari had brought over, so I filled the cart with staples, meats, dairy, and produce. By the time I was ready to check out, the cart was overflowing with so much food that the checker grimaced when she saw me. I tried not to laugh as I unloaded the groceries onto the conveyor belt and placed a dozen reusable bags on top.

  “I just moved back to town,” I said. “I’m afraid I bought out the store.”

  At that, she laughed. “We’ll get through it,” she said, motioning to one of the few bagboys left in the world of supermarkets. He began bagging my groceries, making sure the bags weren’t too heavy. Even though I had brought twelve bags with me, he still needed to use four paper ones.

  I ran my credit card through—one of the first things I had done the day after I found Ellison with his head between his girlfriend’s legs was to take my name off our credit cards and apply for my own. At least that had been successful—my lawyer had argued in court that, since a lot of what Ellison had charged had ended up going to his mistress, he should bear the brunt of paying them back. I had effectively stuck him with fifty grand worth of debt and walked away with a clean credit report. While it hadn’t made up for losing the magazine or the house, it provided some solace.

  After shopping, I decided to take the groceries home before doing anything else.

  My parents had recently upgraded the kitchen. It had dark espresso cabinets and white quartz counters, and a double wall oven. The ceiling was white, and the walls were a pale blue. The entire room felt crisp and clean. The window over the sink overlooked the backyard, and from there, I could see Mystic Wood State Park, just beyond the back fence. The yard spread out to the left and right, and was a good half-acre wide. The grass was currently covered with about an inch of snow.

  I had long finished my mocha, so I made myself a sandwich for brunch and wandered out to the back porch. A wide screen door leading to the backyard was in the center of the enclosed porch, and to my right, a bistro table and four chairs sat protected from the elements. While the snow and rain could get through the screens, they deflected a lot of the moisture.

  The temperature had to be only in the upper thirties, so I decided that eating my breakfast out there wasn’t an option, but I took a moment to look over the yard. I had repeatedly snuck into the park, sometimes with Ari and sometimes alone, but almost always against my parents’ wishes. There was so much magic residing in that forest that I could barely breathe at times—it was intoxicating. I hadn’t been there since my teen years, though. The desire to run off and tromp through the snow hit me, but I had things to do still, so I whispered, “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” The forest seemed to hear me and the wind gusted, shaking the trees.

  I headed inside, giving the yard itself one last look. The roses were overgrown, and some of the trees needed trimming. Winter was a good time to take care of pruning, so I made a note to call a lawn care service because I had no clue what to do. I wasn’t a green witch, that was for sure. My magic took other forms.

  I looked around the kitchen and sighed. If I didn’t call Conjure Ink, somebody else might get the job. And I needed to work until I could brush up on my magic. I had dreams of following in my mother’s footsteps and setting out my shingle. My mother had hired out as a card reader, ghost buster, and spellcaster. And I knew that if I could level up my skills,
I could take over her clientele, if they hadn’t already moved on to someone else. But in the meantime, I needed to find work so that I could keep my savings account intact.

  I pulled out the piece of paper that Ari had given me and sat down at the table, punching in the number. Three rings later, someone picked up.

  “Gelphart,” came the brusque answer.

  I blinked, unsure of how to respond.

  “Hello? Who is this?” He sounded rushed and irritated.

  “Right, I’m sorry. I’m January Jaxson and I’m calling about the job with Conjure Ink. Ari Wheeler told me about it. Is it still available?”

  There was a pause before he cleared his throat and in a more calmer tone, said, “Yes, actually, it is. When can you come in for an interview?”

  I hadn’t expected such a quick response. “Today, if you like.”

  “Fine. 1280 Martin Street, three o’clock. Bring your resume. I’ll see you then, January.” And…click.

  I stared at my phone. If I didn’t need the job, I’d think twice. But then again, I knew a lot of publishing professionals and most of them were just as brusque. Tad Gelphart might run an odd-sounding paranormal investigations site, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t pressed for time.

  What the hell, I thought. It can’t hurt to check it out. A glance at the clock told me I had enough time to go shopping before the interview. I was unpacked, but I had gotten rid of all my mother’s old sheets and linens. Grabbing my keys and purse, I sorted through my briefcase in which I had packed all my important documents, like my birth certificate, passport, deed to the house, and other legal necessities.

  “I should get a fire-proof safe,” I said, mostly to myself.

  I finally found the copies of the resume that I had printed out before I had left my—scratch that—Ellison’s—house and, tucking them into a file folder in my tote bag, I headed out for the car. It was time to go shopping.

  Chapter Four

  The town square was bustling. Most of the shops in Moonshadow Bay were in the downtown area, though there were a few tiny strip malls on the outskirts of town. But Bed & Body Unlimited was off of Main Street, on Glacier Avenue. Bellingham, and Moonshadow Bay, weren’t that far from Mount Baker National Park, which housed Mount Baker—one of the most active of the volcanoes that made up the Cascade Mountain Range.

  The range split the state in two, with Western Washington temperate and wet, lush and green year round. The eastern side of the state was dry and scorched during the summer, and cold and icy during winter. Eastern Washington was far bigger than Western Washington, but it had a much sparser population, and the only thing the two sides of the state had in common was their name. Over on the east side of the mountains, conservatives ruled over orchards and farms, while here, on the west side, liberals and high-tech moguls ran the landscape—and the economy.

  But the Cascades were the real star.

  The mountains towered over the land, breaking apart the terrain with craggy peaks jutting their way into the sky. The only way over them were the high mountain passes.

  The Cascades claimed five active volcanoes, along with a number of dormant and extinct ones. Mount Rainier, who guarded Seattle with her stately form, was the best known and the most dangerous, given one hundred thousand people lived in her shadow. Then there was Mount St. Helens who had let loose in 1980 with a massive eruption that destroyed over a thousand feet off the top and killed sixty.

  But up north, near Bellingham, we were focused on Mount Baker. Still very much alive, the last-known eruption was thought to have been in 1884, but the nineteenth century had seen close to twenty eruptions. The land was alive, and here in Moonshadow Bay, we were well aware of that life. Most of us paid attention to the ebb and flow of energy that worked its way around the area.

  I found a place to park—there was a parking lot across from the block of stores that offered plenty of parking and easy access—and headed over to buy new sheets and towels.

  Once in the store, I ended up buying far more. I decided I wanted plum and dusky blue sheet sets, and I found a new comforter that was a paisley pattern in vibrant blue, green, and white. I tossed extra throw pillows into the cart and then moved onto the kitchen aisles.

  I couldn’t remember if my mother had just the right size of whisks I liked—I loved to bake, while she had made most of our treats from boxed mixes—so I chose a set of four graduated sizes, then moved onto the crystal, where I chose new goblets and drinkware. I also decided that I needed new skillets, and then I picked up an air fryer.

  By the time I left the store, pushing the cart across to my car, my credit card had taken a thousand-dollar hit. I packed the bags into the back of my Subaru and glanced at my watch. It was eleven. I was debating whether to stop in at Ruby’s—a small Italian restaurant nearby—when I heard someone calling my name.

  “January!”

  I turned around to see Killian three cars over from mine. He waved and I motioned him over. I noticed he was wearing hiking boots, which worked well on snow and ice.

  The snow was beginning to turn to slush as the temperatures rose above freezing, but they were due to plunge back down into the twenties tonight, which meant everything would melt just enough to create a solid sheet of ice for tomorrow.

  “Hey,” I said as he approached. “What are you doing?”

  “Same thing you are, apparently. Shopping for new bedding. Everything I owned was burned to a crisp, and I’m not joking. All my family pictures…everything I had accumulated…all gone,” he said, a melancholy look washing across his face.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t realize you had truly lost everything.” I paused, frowning. There was more to his grief than losing possessions. “You lost more than that, didn’t you?”

  He nodded. “I lost my dog. I couldn’t get in to save her. It still chokes me up, thinking about it. The only comfort I have is the firemen said the smoke took her before the flames reached her. She wasn’t young—she was fourteen—and I doted on her.”

  “What was her name?” I asked. I had wanted a pet for years, but Ellison had argued against it so vehemently that I decided he couldn’t be trusted around a pet anyway.

  “Sasha. She was a German shepherd. I wish to hell I had followed my instincts and taken her to work with me that morning. The fire hit my house before it hit my practice. I could have saved her—gotten her out with me.”

  I bit my lip, feeling bad that I’d brought up such a sad memory. “You want to grab a cup of coffee?” I asked. “Ruby’s is a good place to eat, and I was about to stop for lunch. My treat, to welcome you to Moonshadow Bay.”

  Killian tilted his head, his long curls sweeping to the side as he did so. His eyes softened and he smiled. “Thank you. I’d love to. In fact, I wouldn’t mind some lunch, too. I ate breakfast at six this morning and could use a good bite. But I insist on paying.”

  I felt my cheeks color just a little as he offered his arm, but I managed to push down my feelings of awkwardness as we headed into the restaurant. In the back of my mind, Ari’s teasing rang loud and clear. Yeah, maybe I did like him—just a little.

  Killian scarfed down his spaghetti as though he hadn’t eaten in days. I was just as hungry, but I suddenly felt self-conscious. I twirled the spaghetti around and around on my fork.

  He noticed. “What’s wrong? Is something off with your food?”

  I blinked. I had done the same thing with Ellison because he was always harping on my weight and he only noticed if I actually ate anything. “No, it’s fine. I’m just…”

  “You can’t be full already. You’ve barely eaten a bite.” He frowned, looking puzzled.

  I bit my lip, unsure of how to answer. But it felt foreign to eat around a man. Finally, I decided that it wouldn’t matter anyway. He was my neighbor. I forked a mouthful of the noodles and meat sauce into my mouth, immediately spilling some on my shirt. My boobs acted as a catch tray, as usual, catching the brunt of the sauce. I couldn’t see my st
omach or my feet when I looked down. A G cup pretty much make sure of that. It also ensured that I pretty much only wore shirts and dresses one day before having to wash them.

  I scrambled to wipe the sauce off my top, then reached in my purse for a Stride Pen—soap in a pen to take off stains.

  “Damn it,” I said, trying to clean off my bust in the most delicate way possible. “I’m not usually a klutz.”

  “You’re not a klutz at all. Spaghetti is a messy food and I personally think they should cut the noodles up and serve it with a spoon. But you’re right—the food here is fantastic.” He enthusiastically finished off his meal and motioned to the waitress. The lunch was all-you-can-eat. “More spaghetti and garlic bread, please.”

  I finished tidying up and went back to my meal. He was right—the food was so good that I decided to forget about being self-conscious. I was hungry and I was going to eat.

  After a few minutes, Killian asked, “How bad was it? Your marriage?”

  I froze, darting a glance his way. “How did you know?”

  “I know the signs. My sister was in a bad marriage and it really messed with her head. It took her a long time to regain her sense of self. He didn’t want you to eat, right?”

  I hesitated, then nodded. “Right. I was in a thinner phase when we got married and Ellison was really unhappy that I gained any weight. But I had been sick when we met—I had had mono and had lost about forty pounds from my normal weight. Ellison assumed that was my normal look. I managed to keep it off for a while, and we got married. Then I started to gain it back—my body isn’t comfortable at a low weight. He started needling me about it, so I stopped eating very much, at least while he was around.”

  “You ate when he couldn’t watch you, right? My sister did the same thing.”

  “Right. And he couldn’t understand why I didn’t lose weight since I barely ate anything in front of him. We worked together, so I had to slip away from him in order to get a decent meal, and I just avoided dinner mostly and snacked later. It was easier to let him think that I was lazy, rather than argue for my right to eat.”