4 Witching On A Star (5 page)

An extremely long two hours later, I found myself happy to be away fro
m Aunt Tillie and at The Whistler. When my mom had said that Aunt Tillie had plans – she wasn’t kidding. She had drawn up her own blueprints – which had tickled the contractor to no end. When Aunt Tillie was out of earshot, he said he would take her plans home – work on them – and come up with something that was actually feasible. Since I knew absolutely nothing about construction, I decided to leave him to his work.

Once I got to The Whistler
, I was busily working my way through a schedule of spring events that had been provided by area businesses when Edith popped into view.

“He’s on the phone again.”

I knew whom she was talking about, but I decided to play the game anyway. “Who?”

“Brian.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s he talking about?”

“He says he’s going to expand The Whistler.”

“I know,” I frowned. “I don’t think he realizes that his plan isn’t really . . . feasible.”

“You don’t think expanding the paper is a good idea?” Edith seemed surprised. “I would think you would jump at that.”

“I don’t think that Hemlock Cove can sustain more than a weekly edition,” I said. “We’re talking about ten thousand people in the immediate area – and most of the locals don’t give a fig about the paper. It’s mostly for the tourists.”

Edith considered what I said. “You’re probably right. Still, though, it could be exciting?”

“Not if he overextends himself and runs the paper into bankruptcy,” I replied.

“Well, that’s definitely true,” Edith said. “Why aren’t you trying to talk to him?”

“He doesn’t want to hear what I have to say,” I said blithely. “I figure he’ll bring in a professional numbers guy and when that guy tells him it’s a bad idea, he’ll listen and I won’t be the bad guy.”

“Well, he’s been on the phone since he got here – hours before you, I might add – and he’s like a kid on Christmas morning he’s so excited.”

Come to think of it, Brian hadn’t been at breakfast this morning. He was currently the only lodger at The Overlook until the spring guests started making their presence known, so his absence should have jumped out at me. Since he and Landon generally loathed each other on sight – I had just been relieved to have a relatively peaceful meal.

“Well, hopefully he’ll come back to Earth soon,” I sighed. “I can’t deal with anymore grand plans.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

I told Edith – who had known Aunt Tillie when she was still alive – about the big greenhouse construction. When I was done, she shook her ghostly head back and forth. “Your family really coddles her too much.”

Let’s just say Edith hadn’t liked Aunt Tillie in life anymore than she did now in death. I had a feeling they had been something like rivals for my late Uncle Calvin’s affections – with Aunt Tillie obviously winning – but neither one of them would speak expansively on the subject.

“It’s not about coddling,” I said. “It’s about distracting her. She’s obsessed with spying on my dad and uncles at the new inn. We’re just trying to keep her out of trouble – or, just keep the trouble localized, I guess.”

“How is the new inn?”

“It’s nice,” I said. “It’s still uncomfortable for everyone involved. I’m not sure how to fix the situation.”

“Do you want to fix the situation?” Edith asked curiously.

“Sure,” I shrugged. “Everyone wants their family to get along. I’m not sure that will ever be totally possible with Aunt Tillie around, though. I don’t think there are any grand family picnics in my future.”

“Well, she can’t live forever,” Edith said brightly.

“That’s not what Thistle says.”

I went back to my work after that, burning a few hours without even realizing it. I looked up when there was a knock on my door. Brian was there – and he wasn’t alone. He had another man with him.

“Bay, are you busy?”

“No,” I stood up and moved around to the other side of my desk. “What’s up?”

“This is Sam Cornell,” Brian introduced the stranger.

I plastered a smile on my face and extended my hand to the man. “Nice to meet you.”

“Sam is a financial expert from the Detroit area,” Brian said excitedly. “He’s going to put together a plan for us to expand The Whistler.”

Oh, goody. “Well, coming to Hemlock Cove must be a shock for you,” I said amiably. “Coming from the big city and all.”

“It’s definitely different,” Sam laughed, running a hand through his brown hair. Up close, he was an attractive man. His face was all high angles and his dark eyes were piercing. I guessed he was in his early thirties, and he was dressed up – at least for Hemlock Cove – in black pants and a blue button down shirt. “I’m not used to all the quiet.”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Living in the city, you don’t realize all the ambient noise you absorb.”

“You lived in the city?”

“I was down in the Detroit area for a few years after college,” I replied.

“And you gave it all up for this?” Sam looked dubious.

“My family is here,” I replied simply. “Sometimes, you just want to come home.”

“Well, this is a beautiful home to come back to,” Sam said, although there was a certain edge to his tone that I couldn’t quite identify.

“It is.”

“I thought we could talk a little,” Brian interjected. “Sam wants to get to know you and get your thoughts on the expansion.”

“Uh, sure.”

I sat back down at my desk and waited until Brian and Sam got situated in the two chairs on the other side of it. I wasn’t surprised to see Edith pop back in. She was nosy by nature.

What did surprise me is that I could have sworn that Sam reacted to her arrival by turning in her direction. He focused his eyes back on me, though, after a quick moment and I realized that he must have just been checking out my office. That had to be it, right?

“So, what do you want to know?”

“I was just curious if you thought expanding to three days a week was a good idea?” Sam asked the big question right out of the gate.

“I don’t know,” I hedged, glancing at Brian. “I think that expanding the paper is going to be a difficult process.” I was trying to be diplomatic.

“How so?”

I blew out a sigh. There really was no way around this. “This is a small area, Mr. Cornell.”

“Please, call me Sam.”

“Sam,” I continued. “Even if we had unprecedented growth, which is possible down the road, we still won’t get enough people to warrant the expansion of the paper, in my opinion.”

“So you don’t think that this is a good idea?” Sam was blunt, which I respected.

“That’s not what she’s saying,” Brian interjected hurriedly.

“No offense, Mr. Kelly,” Sam turned to him carefully. “But you don’t handle the news side of the business and Ms. Winchester does. I really need to hear her thoughts – and I need to hear her honest thoughts. That’s going to help me come up with the right plan.”

Brian looked properly chastised as Sam turned back to me. “Please continue.”

“This is a very small town,” I explained. “The people that actually live in town only amount to about seven thousand. Then you have the outlying district. There’s about another three thousand in the twenty miles in any direction. I don’t see how that translates to a lot of news.”

“No,” Sam looked serious.

I glanced up at Edith, who was watching the two men closely. I had no idea what she was thinking, and it wasn’t like I could ask her.

“There’s also not a lot of actual news here,” I continued.

“Try none,” Edith snorted.

I ignored her. “There’s just very little news to fill the editorial hole three times a week. I struggle to fill it – and I mostly use fluff – one day a week.”

“There has been an increase in crime in the area,” Brian said desperately.

Sam looked interested. “How so?”

“Last fall there were two bodies found in a cornfield. Then, a month later, there was another body found in the middle of town. The man who is believed to have did that murder is still on the loose.”

“He’s not on the loose,” Edith scoffed. “Your Aunt Tillie incinerated him.”

Now, this time I’m almost positive, Sam’s ears twitched at the sound of Edith’s voice. He didn’t turn in her direction, though. He kept his gaze focused on Brian.

“And then, just this past winter, there was a crazed drug dealer on the loose,” Brian finished up excitedly.

Sam turned to me, his dark eyes unreadable. “That sounds like exciting stuff.”

“Yes,” I agreed. “It was. However, we can’t keep hoping that crime finds a way to Hemlock Cove three times a week. Those were all . . . flukes. Sure, there’s going to be some level of crime from time to time, but it’s been quiet for months.”

“Once the tourists get here, though, that will change,” Brian said defensively.

“You don’t know that,” I challenged.

“Ms. Winchester – may I call you Bay – is right,” Sam plowed on. “You can’t count on anything like that.”

I raised my eyebrows in Brian’s direction. Of course I was right.

“That doesn’t mean that we can’t come up with alternative news copy ideas,” Sam continued.

“See,” Brian said triumphantly.

“What are you working on this week?” Sam asked curiously.

“A list of all the spring activities planned by the area businesses,” I replied blandly.

“Really?” Sam looked surprised. “That’s it?”

“You have other suggestions?” He was starting to bug me.

“I noticed you have two new businesses in town, why not do stories on those?” Sam didn’t seem to notice that I was starting to get aggravated with him.

“We did,” I said. “When they first opened. They both got the front page spot on different weeks.”

“Oh,” Sam looked nonplussed. “How about the new inn that’s opening on the edge of town? The Dragonfly, I think it’s called.”

I narrowed my eyes in his direction. “They’re still months away from opening. We’ll do a story when it’s closer. We already did one announcing the business.”

“How do you know that it’s not ready to open?” Sam asked.

“I was just out there last night.”

“Oh, to see if it was close to opening?”

“No, to have dinner. I got the tour while I was there, though.”

“To have dinner? Are you dating the owner or something?” Sam’s question was pointed.

Now that was definitely none of his business. “No,” I shook my head. I didn’t like the keen way Sam was looking at me. He was far too interested in things he had no business being interested in.

“The owner is her father,” Brian supplied. I wanted to kick him.

“Oh,” Sam said. “I see. Well, that will make getting the interview easy.”

Brian laughed jovially but I was uncomfortable with the way he said it. I had no idea why, but there was something about Sam Cornell that was starting to seriously rub me the wrong way. I decided to refrain from saying anything at this point, though. Maybe they would just go away if I was suddenly rendered mute?

“Well, I’m sure we can think of something,” Sam said finally.

“I’m sure,” Brian agreed.

“Why don’t you let me poke around town and I’ll come up with some ideas to help you,” Sam offered. “It’s got to be hard, mired in this town day in and day out, to come up with fresh ideas. I would love the chance to give you a hand.”

I realized, after a second, that both Brian and Sam were watching me – waiting for an answer.

“That sounds great,” I said finally, getting to my feet. “Have at it.”

“Good,” Sam said with a wide smile.

“Is that all? I really need to meet Thistle and Clove for lunch.” That was a blatant lie but I needed to get out of this room before I exploded.

“Oh, sure,” Brian said. “Sorry to keep you.”

Brian and Sam started to move towards the door. As they did, Edith floated towards me. There was no mistaking anything this time. Sam Cornell tracked Edith’s movements as she moved to the center of the room. Edith noticed it, too. She looked to me curiously. I gave an almost imperceptible shake of my head to warn her not to say anything.

With one more final goodbye, Sam and Brian exited into the hallway. I remained standing behind my desk, watching them as they moved down the hallway and finally out of sight.

“He saw me,” Edith whispered.

“He did,” I agreed.

“Why didn’t he say something?”

“I have no idea. I’m going to find out, though. You can count on that.”

I needed some air. I had to get out of The Whistler and away from Sam Cornell. Even though Edith was pestering me with an endless stream of questions, I ignored them all, grabbed my coat, and exited the paper through the back door.

I had told Brian I was meeting Thistle and Clove for lunch – which was true – but I had an hour to burn. I decided to burn it with a walk to clear my head.

After strolling by the docks – which were empty – and past the library, which was busy for the middle of the week, I found myself in front of the small cemetery at the south edge of town.

The cemetery was old. The headstones were big and ornate. The foliage – when in bloom – was intricate and rich. As part of the rebranding, the town had refurbished the wrought-iron gate and adorned the surrounding cement fence with several gargoyles in various states of menacing protection. I loved the little cemetery. Yeah, I loved it.

When I was a kid, I would spend hours in the cemetery talking to my “imaginary friends.” The townspeople thought I was weird. They had no idea about my gift. As I got older, I learned to hide my ability out of fear. Everything you’ve heard about small towns is true. They’re gossip factories. And, even as I got older, I still heard the whispers. Everyone in town thought the Winchester women were weird but Bay, well, she was weird even by Winchester standards.

Clove and especially Thistle had gotten in many a fight to protect my honor when we were kids. Thistle was still spoiling for a fight whenever someone was mean to me as adults – but I had learned to ignore it, or at least I tried to fool myself that I had.

I let myself into the cemetery through the gate and looked around. It didn’t look like the town beautification committee had been by yet – but that wasn’t surprising. They had a lot to clean up after the harsh winter and the cemetery wouldn’t be a focus for at least another few weeks. The town itself – the streets and gardens – were the main priority right now.

I meandered through the cemetery a few minutes, lost in thought. Could Sam Cornell see ghosts? If he could, why didn’t he acknowledge Edith? Maybe he was like me and hid his gift. He probably didn’t realize that I could see Edith, too. Or, maybe I was imagining the whole thing. Maybe he had seen a shadow of Edith – which many people were capable of, even if they didn’t know it – and he was just reacting to that shadow?

Maybe I was going to drive myself crazy with all of this.

I made my way over to my Uncle Calvin’s grave, stopping to clean off some winter debris before moving on to my grandmother’s tombstone. We usually came out to clean up the family plots together in the spring. The truth was, I didn’t come to the cemetery alone very often anymore – mostly out of fear that someone would see me talking to myself and the whole rumor mill would start up again.

As if on cue, I caught a hint of movement out of the corner of my eye and turned. The cemetery had a few regular visitors – most of whom I remembered from my childhood – but the figure standing to the left of Uncle Calvin’s tombstone was one I recognized from earlier this week – not my childhood.

It was the little girl from the inn. The one I had seen hiding amongst the trees.

“Hi.” I greeted the child calmly. I didn’t want to scare her away again.

The little girl’s eyes widened in surprise. She glanced behind her and then back to me. I couldn’t figure out what she was doing.

“Are you lost?”

The little girl continued to stare at me. I took a step towards her, causing her to move backwards a step. When I got a closer look, I grimaced. I realized now what I hadn’t seen – but should have – from the beginning. She wasn’t a lost little girl; she was a dead little girl. She was a ghost.

Crap.

I glanced around the cemetery, hoping no one was in earshot. When I didn’t see anyone, I turned back to the little girl. “Are you from around here?”

The little girl still wasn’t speaking. She watched me, every move, every gesture, but she didn’t open her mouth and try to speak. I figured she was stunned someone had actually been able to see her. I was hopeful, when that wore off, she would try to communicate with me.

I took the chance to look her over. Her skin wasn’t just
black, it was ebony – which was why I hadn’t realized she was a ghost right away. She was dressed in a plain white dress, one that looked like it had seen better days even when it was real. Her black hair was wild – despite the braids – and her dark eyes were bright and inquisitive, although filled with fear.

“Well, you’re not a big talker, huh?” I was going for levity.

Still nothing.

“How about we play a game?” I suggested. “Hide and go seek? How about that?”

The little girl continued to stare at me, her hollow dark eyes searching for some answer she wasn’t getting.

“I’ll hide and you come find me,” I suggested, looking towards the larger tombstones a few rows away. “How does that sound?”

When I turned back, she was gone again.

“Or, maybe you can hide,” I muttered.

I glanced around the cemetery, giving it a cursory search, but I couldn’t find her. I figured, now that she knew I could see her, she would find me again. After about a half an hour of waiting, I gave up and headed towards Hypnotic.

When I entered the store, I found Clove and Thistle bagging herbs at the little craft table in the corner. “I just saw a ghost,” I announced.

“Edith?” Thistle didn’t bother looking up.

“No, not Edith. It was a little girl. The little girl I saw out at the inn. It turns out she’s a ghost.”

Clove looked up in surprise. “The little black girl is a ghost?”

“Yep.”

“How do you know?”

“I saw her at the cemetery.”

“Just because she was at the cemetery, that doesn’t mean she’s dead,” Thistle scoffed.

“She was floating and had no feet.”

“Oh,” Thistle shrugged. “Then she’s a ghost.”

“Did she tell you what she wants?” Clove asked.

“No, she didn’t speak,” I admitted. “I think she’s scared.”

“I bet,” Thistle said blithely. “There’s a weird woman talking to ghosts in the cemetery. Who wouldn’t be afraid? What were you doing in the cemetery anyway?”

I told them about Sam Cornell – including the fact that I was sure he had seen Edith – and waited for them to respond. I expected histrionics from Clove and a string of curses from Thistle. I got neither.

“That’s weird,” Thistle said finally. “Does he really think that this area can sustain a paper three times a week?”

“That’s what you find surprising? Not the fact that he could see Edith?”

“It was bound to happen eventually,” Thistle replied nonchalantly. “You’re not the only one with that gift. Odds are that he does what you do and just pretends he doesn’t see them when he’s around other people.”

“It doesn’t bother you that he’s suddenly in town?”

“Should it?” Thistle looked confused. “He’s just a numbers cruncher from the city. He’ll realize soon enough that this isn’t going to work and leave. I don’t see any reason to freak out.”

“I hope so,” I grumbled.

“What’s he look like?” Clove asked suddenly.

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I was just wondering.”

“She wants to know if he’s hot,” Thistle laughed.

“I do not!” Clove looked scandalized, but her cheeks colored all the same.

Thistle was right. Clove was always on the lookout for new men in the area. The pickings in Hemlock Cove were mighty slim – especially in our age group. Unfortunately, the last one she was interested in turned out to be a drug dealer from Canada. The one before him had been Brian Kelly – and no one wanted that – although I had a feeling there was still a little interest there.

“He’s attractive,” I said finally. “High cheekbones. Brown hair and eyes. Looks like he has a decent body.”

“Hmm,” Clove looked interested. Great.

“He’s also a danger to us,” I reminded her. “If he finds out I can see ghosts then he could tell someone.”

“Landon knows,” Clove pointed out. “That turned out to be fine.”

“Yeah, but it could have gone either way,” Thistle said sagely.

She had a point.

“Fine,” Clove pouted. “I’ll stay away from the hot new visitor and remain a lonely spinster while you two are happy with your hot boyfriends.”

Thistle smirked, but I felt a small tug of pity for Clove. She had been left to her own devices a lot more lately since Thistle and I were so often engaged with Landon and Marcus.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “If you want to meet him, I’m sure that will be fine.”

“Pushover,” Thistle teased. “So much for protecting the family secret. One look at her crestfallen face and you fold.”

Clove shot Thistle a dark look. “I don’t have a crestfallen face.”

This was getting us nowhere. “So, we’re all just ignoring my worry about the new guy in town?”

“Pretty much,” Thistle said. “It’s not like we can do anything about it.”

“I think you’re overreacting,” Clove said honestly. “It’s not like the big family secret is that much of a secret. Everyone in town knows.”

“They suspect, they don’t know,” I countered.

“Oh,” Thistle groaned. “Not this argument again. I can’t take it. Get over it. You were worried about Landon, and look how well he took it.”

“He didn’t at first,” I bit my lower lip. They were making me feel ridiculous.

“Well, let’s just wait to see if this guy actually starts acting all squirrely before we start stalking him,” Thistle said. “I think that would be best for everyone. Let’s refrain from gathering pitchforks until we have an actual reason to burn him at the stake.”

“Fine.”

“Fine,” Thistle nodded, turning to Clove for affirmation.

Clove, however, was busy staring out the front window of the store. “Who is that?”

I turned to follow her gaze and frowned. “Sam Cornell.”

Sam was standing outside of the store and peering in through the window. When he caught sight of me, he waved enthusiastically and moved towards the front door in an obvious effort to enter the store.

“Why is he here?”

“I guess we’ll find out,” Thistle said. I couldn’t help but notice that she didn’t look as sure about his harmless nature as before, though.

“It’s weird that he just showed up here, right?”

“Really weird,” Thistle agreed.

We both watched the front door with trepidation as Sam stepped into our world – bright smile and mysterious intentions completely intact.