We entered through the trellis-arched gate. A white picket fence cordoned off the yard. A tall maple shaded the right side of the house, and a couple of small firs stood guard to the left, but the overall impression was one of genteel poverty.
The Williamses kept their house looking neat—it was freshly painted—and the yard was manicured, but they probably had lived through some lean times. Usually magical families were fairly well off, gathering centuries of accumulated wealth. But nowadays, that wasn’t quite so true. While there were magical ways to summon up wealth, prosperity spells didn’t guarantee wealth beyond measure, and given the high cost of living of the current days, fewer witches found themselves in the filthy-rich category.
I stomped my feet on the top step to shake off the snow as Sandy knocked at the door. I really had no idea what to expect. The Williamses were nice people, but their daughter had been murdered at my house. I wasn’t sure how I’d feel about it if the situation was reversed.
The door opened. Mrs. Williams stood there, looking older than I remembered. Her hair was graying and her shoulders sloped, as if she were wearing the weight of the world on them.
“Maudlin, Sandy…won’t you come in?” Her voice cracked as she took a step back, opening the door so we could enter.
The house was as tidy inside as it was out, although everything had a threadbare look to it. I had met too many families in this predicament. Everybody would be friendly and helpful, but when they insisted you stay for dinner, you knew it would come at a dear price for them.
“Thank you,” I said uncertainly. “We wanted to come by and pay our respects. I’m so sorry, Mrs. Williams.”
She led us into a parlor barely big enough for the love seat, sofa, and upright piano that it contained. The walls were papered in a faded hydrangea print, and the fireplace mantel looked like it could use refinishing. But there wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere. Framed pictures lined the mantel, several of them I recognized as of Rose. Two were current, but in one, she had to have been four or five. She was standing knee-deep at the shore, laughing as she held up a starfish. There were pictures of another girl on the mantel too. She looked a lot like Rose, only she was a little older. In one photo, the girls were hugging.
“Rose always loved the water,” Mrs. Williams said. “My girl, she was in tune with the Ocean Mother. If she’d been born one of the Fae, she would have been a siren, or an undine perhaps. She spent every moment she could near the water and loved living on an island.”
“She was smart and talented, that’s for sure.” I glanced over at Sandy.
“We’ll be sending out service notifications soon,” her mother said. “When it’s time for the actual Cord Cutting, we’ll be in touch with your coven. We would like to ask if you would plan it for us, since she was a member.”
“Of course.” The service would be the first of three steps in our death rituals. It was a farewell to Rose, a look at her life—a tearful good-bye. The second step—the Cord Cutting—would be where we magically let her go and wished her well on her transition. That usually happened a year after the service. And shortly after the Cord Cutting would be the wake—the party to celebrate Rose’s life and to close the cycle.
“I want to thank you for being her friend. Can we ask what she was doing at your house? The sheriff didn’t really go into that. But whatever we can find out about our daughter’s last hours, we’d like to know.” Rose’s mother fished a handkerchief out of her pocket and lowered herself to the love seat. “I’m sorry. I’m so tired, it seems.”
As Sandy and I sat on the sofa, I realized there was something I needed to do. “Rose asked me for a Finding spell. To help locate her sister. I gather she’s still missing?”
The expression on Mrs. Williams’s face was painful. “Yes. Lavender vanished a couple weeks back. We know she’s in danger.”
“If you like, I’ll come by in a few days, after you’re over the worst of the shock. I can cast the spell I gave to Rose for you.” I crossed the room and sat beside her on the love seat, taking her hand in mine. “Rose wanted so badly to help find her sister. I couldn’t stop what happened to Rose, but maybe I can help you find Lavender, Mrs. Williams.”
“Please call me Primrose.” Rose’s mother burst into tears as she squeezed my hand. “Thank you. Thank you. We’re kitchen witches. We just don’t have the knack for spells like that. My husband’s been so angry. He thinks Lavender walked away from the family, but I know in my heart that she would never vanish on her own. Not without telling us. You’ll have to work with me—he wouldn’t like it, especially now with Rose…now that she’s gone. But I know my daughters. Lavender loved her family.”
I nodded, impulsively gathering her in my arms. She rested her head on my shoulder, weeping, and the sound of her crying was the sound of her heart breaking.
Sandy motioned for me to stay where I was and headed out into the hall.
A few minutes later, she was back, carrying a cup of steaming tea as Primrose’s tears slowed. Primrose sat back and wiped her eyes with the handkerchief, then blew her nose. Sandy handed her the tea, cadging a grateful smile out of her.
“I can’t thank you enough for your visit. My Oak, he’s hurting so bad that he won’t talk about it. So I’ve spent the past twenty-four hours keeping my mouth shut, but it’s so hard. I felt like I was about to explode.” She dabbed her eyes again, then took a sip of the tea. “Thank you. I feel so lost. I’m not sure what to do next.”
Sandy scooched in on the other side. She picked up a shawl that was draped over the back of the love seat and draped it around Primrose’s shoulders. “I’m going to send my assistant over. His name is Alex and he can help you sort out what to do next. He’ll help you make arrangements for the service and so forth. Will that be all right?”
Primrose nodded, her eyes welling up again. “I can’t thank you enough. Oak will come around. I think he feels he failed them both. If we can only find Lavender and make sure she’s all right, that will help.”
“I’ll call you later this week and we’ll talk over a time for the spell.” I took down her number, storing it in my phone. Then Sandy and I left, after a round of hugs. Primrose waved at us from the door, a wistful look on her face.
As we slid back into the car, I gave one last look at the house. “I know what losing Tom was like for me. I can’t imagine losing a child. Two, actually. I hope to hell we find Lavender alive and well, or the pain is going to be too much for that woman.”
“I suspect Primrose is more resilient than you think. She just needs to be able to express her grief. It’s keeping it bottled inside that does the damage. I hope for her sake, her husband comes around to facing his loss. Grief can turn into a mean bitterness when ignored.” Sandy glanced at me. “We’ve done all we can here today, and I suspect we helped a lot more than you might think. Now, let’s talk about Rachel. I told you I had an idea.”
“Yeah, of finding her and staking her. If what Delia told me is true, then that would make Essie mighty happy.”
“It would make you happy too, don’t deny it.”
I grinned. Then, sobering, I said, “How can I, though? What do you think? You’ve lived on Bedlam a lot longer than I have. Why do you think Linda wouldn’t talk to Delia? Do you really think Essie might be looking at staging a coup and overthrowing the coven’s rule? And, by the way, where are we going next?”
“Why don’t we drive through the Bouncing Goats Espresso Shack and get a mocha while we talk?” She grinned at me. “Don’t tell me you’re going to pass up free caffeine?”
I snickered. “Of course not. Bouncing Goats it is.”