around a picnic bench and watched as I got out of the van. A familiar face would have been a welcoming sight, but Dy and Aurora weren’t with them. I felt like I’d just entered enemy territory without a squad of Marines to back me up.
Instead of joining the others, Lucinda led me to one of the large tents and ducked in. Just to be on the safe side, I silently threw another bit of information up to the universe. “I’m going into Lucinda Lighthouse’s tent. Should I go inside or run the other way?”
“What are you waiting for?” Lucinda called out.
An answer to my question didn’t present itself, so I ducked through the flap and found myself inside a room at least the size of my bedroom. And furnished just as well (or nearly). These women knew something about outdoor living in comfort. If the world as we know it ever ended, they would be the survivors.
“Sit down,” Lucinda said, taking one of two chairs at a small square table.
I sat, wondering where Rosina had met her maker. Hunter already told me it had happened at the farm. But was it here, in the coven’s campground? In one of the tents?
“About this favor,” I began with some nervous chatter. “I sure do owe you one, no question about that.” I gave her some suggestions, the ones I’d thought about on the way over—honey, garlic, whatever.
When I ran out of ideas, Lucinda said, “The local authorities are forcing us to stay here longer than we had anticipated. Until they are satisfied that none of us were involved in Rosina’s tragic death, we can’t go home, and that is inconvenient at best.”
“I’m so sorry about your troubles and about Rosina,” I said again.
“Nothing could be worse,” she agreed. “Tabitha found her in the corn maze, you know, and it was a horribly shocking experience for the young woman.”
Tabitha! Which witch was she?
So Rosina had been killed in the corn maze, stabbed with a jagged-edged knife. Yikes. Lucinda continued, “The lead investigator wants the actual scene of her murder to remain confidential information.” She studied me intensely before continuing, “If word got out that it happened in the corn maze, Al’s financial future could be at stake.”
Stake? The burning kind popped into my head. “You mean he’d lose customers if they found out the maze was the scene of a murder.” That would not be good for any of us. What hurt one local business impacted all.
“Families come to play in the maze. A situation like this could significantly harm his business. Or, since Halloween is right around the corner, it might bring out the worst kind of imitators.”
That was a nasty thought. “Copycats.”
Lucinda nodded. “It’s important that Rosina’s murder is solved as quickly as possible for many reasons. Detective Wallace hopes to wrap this up quickly, but who knows if he actually will.”
So the witches didn’t know about my relationship with Hunter. That was good to know. Lucinda went on, “We intend to invoke the presence of the high priestess, who will give us the name of the person Rosina went to meet right before her death, the one who did this awful thing.”
“Uh, um, okay,” I said, because I didn’t know what to say, and I didn’t want to alienate Lucinda with a snide remark or by laughing out loud. Instead I just had to ask, since the question had been on my mind since Dy’s first wand sighting, “Are you Wiccans?”
Lucinda snorted derisively. “Wicca is a religion like any other. We believe in a higher power, but we leave religion to the insecure.”
Okay then. By higher power did she mean God? Or the devil? Or was there some deity in between, in the gray zone? This time I was afraid to ask.
“How did you know Rosina was meeting someone?” I asked instead.
“She told Tabitha, her tent mate, but Tabitha didn’t think to ask her for a name, and Rosina didn’t offer one. When she didn’t come back, Tabitha went to find her and discovered her body.”
“But
Instead of joining the others, Lucinda led me to one of the large tents and ducked in. Just to be on the safe side, I silently threw another bit of information up to the universe. “I’m going into Lucinda Lighthouse’s tent. Should I go inside or run the other way?”
“What are you waiting for?” Lucinda called out.
An answer to my question didn’t present itself, so I ducked through the flap and found myself inside a room at least the size of my bedroom. And furnished just as well (or nearly). These women knew something about outdoor living in comfort. If the world as we know it ever ended, they would be the survivors.
“Sit down,” Lucinda said, taking one of two chairs at a small square table.
I sat, wondering where Rosina had met her maker. Hunter already told me it had happened at the farm. But was it here, in the coven’s campground? In one of the tents?
“About this favor,” I began with some nervous chatter. “I sure do owe you one, no question about that.” I gave her some suggestions, the ones I’d thought about on the way over—honey, garlic, whatever.
When I ran out of ideas, Lucinda said, “The local authorities are forcing us to stay here longer than we had anticipated. Until they are satisfied that none of us were involved in Rosina’s tragic death, we can’t go home, and that is inconvenient at best.”
“I’m so sorry about your troubles and about Rosina,” I said again.
“Nothing could be worse,” she agreed. “Tabitha found her in the corn maze, you know, and it was a horribly shocking experience for the young woman.”
Tabitha! Which witch was she?
So Rosina had been killed in the corn maze, stabbed with a jagged-edged knife. Yikes. Lucinda continued, “The lead investigator wants the actual scene of her murder to remain confidential information.” She studied me intensely before continuing, “If word got out that it happened in the corn maze, Al’s financial future could be at stake.”
Stake? The burning kind popped into my head. “You mean he’d lose customers if they found out the maze was the scene of a murder.” That would not be good for any of us. What hurt one local business impacted all.
“Families come to play in the maze. A situation like this could significantly harm his business. Or, since Halloween is right around the corner, it might bring out the worst kind of imitators.”
That was a nasty thought. “Copycats.”
Lucinda nodded. “It’s important that Rosina’s murder is solved as quickly as possible for many reasons. Detective Wallace hopes to wrap this up quickly, but who knows if he actually will.”
So the witches didn’t know about my relationship with Hunter. That was good to know. Lucinda went on, “We intend to invoke the presence of the high priestess, who will give us the name of the person Rosina went to meet right before her death, the one who did this awful thing.”
“Uh, um, okay,” I said, because I didn’t know what to say, and I didn’t want to alienate Lucinda with a snide remark or by laughing out loud. Instead I just had to ask, since the question had been on my mind since Dy’s first wand sighting, “Are you Wiccans?”
Lucinda snorted derisively. “Wicca is a religion like any other. We believe in a higher power, but we leave religion to the insecure.”
Okay then. By higher power did she mean God? Or the devil? Or was there some deity in between, in the gray zone? This time I was afraid to ask.
“How did you know Rosina was meeting someone?” I asked instead.
“She told Tabitha, her tent mate, but Tabitha didn’t think to ask her for a name, and Rosina didn’t offer one. When she didn’t come back, Tabitha went to find her and discovered her body.”
“But
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