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 Merry Midlife
Sweet Mountain Witches
Paranormal Women’s Fiction Mystery
Book Nine

Cindy Stark

www.cindystark.com

Merry Midlife © 2022 C. Nielsen

All rights reserved

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 License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This

ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you
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transmitted, downloaded, or stored in or introduced into an
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This ebook is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places,
and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been
used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any
resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or
organizations is entirely coincidental.

DISCLAIMER:

All spells in this book are purely fictional and for fun.

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 Table of Contents
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Epilogue
Excerpt from Murder & Moonstones
Book List
About the Author

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 One

Halfway through the midmorning rush at my cat café Meowkins,

my bestie Aeri nudged me before she began filling a large cup with
our house blend coffee. “One week until you become Mrs. Daisy
McKay,” she teased.
Excitement and a hefty case of nerves raced through me with a
shiver. Everything for Gideon’s and my wedding had been planned
down to the detail, including the venue, the flowers, and my coven’s
high priestess Jocelyn who would be officiating. The only thing left
for me to do was to stop in at my mom’s house for a final fitting on
the gorgeous wedding dress she’d created for me.
Even though everything was in place, I frowned at Aeri. “Every
time you say that I feel like I can’t breathe.”
Aeri grinned, her dark eyes sparkling with mischief. “It’s been
twenty-three years since I married Brad, and I still remember feeling
exactly like you right before my wedding.”
I fitted a lid on the cup of coffee Aeri had poured and passed it
to our customer who gave me an odd look before he walked away. I
waited until I’d taken the next order before I turned to Aeri and
released a deep exhale. “So, you’re telling me feeling like this is
normal? I keep wondering if I’m making a mistake, or if I’m
forgetting something.”
She shook her head, her shoulder-length dark hair swinging as
she did. “It’s perfectly normal. You have everything under control,
and I know how much you and Gideon love each other, so wipe
those worries from your mind.”
Her words did help me feel better. At least for the moment.
As the next man stepped up to the counter, I glanced at the line
of people waiting for their morning fix. The line wasn’t crazy long
like it had been when the coffee shop down the street had closed
temporarily, but there still seemed to be more people than usual
considering the time of day.
I nodded at the tall, thin man waiting to order and noticed the
dark hollows beneath his eyes. He certainly looked like he could use
a shot of caffeine. “Good morning. Welcome to Meowkins. What can
I get for you?”
His gaze penetrated mine for a long moment before he tilted his
head upward to read our menu. It wasn’t until he spoke in a deep,
rich voice that I sensed the power emanating from him. “I’ll take a
Meowka Latte.”
I smiled. “Of course. Is there anything else I can get you?”
The level of his energy had lowered to a simmer, and he shook
his head.
As I entered his purchase into the computer, I pondered over
how well he kept his power hidden. Except when he’d opened his
mouth to speak. I’d never heard of anyone being able to conceal
magic that way, but I had led a mostly sheltered life.
And what was he? Vampire? Werewolf?
His black overcoat magnified the dark circles beneath his eyes,
but that along with the black shirt and tie that he wore gave him a
mystifying, elusive air. I finished with the sale and handed his credit
card back to him. “It’ll be just one moment. If you’d like to wait at
one of those stools near the front window, we’ll call your name when
it’s ready.”
He studied me for a second and nodded. Odd, I thought, as he
strode away.
It wasn’t as if I’d never had other magical beings come through
my coffee shop. But he seemed weirder than normal.
I took the next order and then leaned close to Aeri as she
crafted the latte. “There was something about that man that’s…”
I wasn’t sure how to put my feelings into words.
She gave me a quick nod. “Strange? I felt it, too.”
“Witch?” I whispered.
She shrugged. “I was thinking vampire.”
We grinned at each other, and I was reminded once again how
lucky I was to work with her and Nicole, another of my best friends.
 Aeri placed the lid on his order. “I’m going to take it out to him
and see what I sense.”
I gave her a conspiratorial nod and turned toward the large
picture window that looked out onto Main Street in my smalltown
Sweet Mountain Meadows. I expected to find the black-clad stranger
waiting there, but he wasn’t. I quickly scanned the room and spotted
him gazing through another large window into the Purry Parlor
where we housed our foster cats.
“He’s watching Nicole and the kitties,” I whispered.
Aeri nodded and headed toward him.
I wanted to study the man more, but unfortunately, I had
customers waiting.
After helping two more people with their orders, I encountered
another strange person. A woman this time. Her rich auburn hair,
shot with a few strands of silver, hung over her shoulders that were
covered by a deep gray cloak. A hint of interest burned in her eyes
that were as green as the mountains in springtime.
As opposed to the earlier man, she had no problem whatsoever
radiating her magic for anyone to notice. In fact, I bet she
purposefully flaunted it.
I gave her a smile like I did with all my customers. “Good
morning.”
Her vibrant coral-stained lips curved into a smile that seemed
friendly, but my instincts left me with a twinge of distrust. “Merry
meet, dear sister. I shall have a large cup of your darkest roast.”
Sister? If she was a witch, which I highly doubted, her darker
powers were unlike any I’d encountered in the past. “Of course.”
As the woman dug in her purse for her wallet, Aeri returned to
the counter and glanced at me with wide eyes.
I turned away enough that my customer couldn’t see me and
made a face to let Aeri know we had another strange one. “A large
dark,” I said to my friend.
Aeri drew her brows inward and began to fill the order.
After completing the sale, I checked the woman’s name before
handing her credit card back to her. Lenora Maldonado. “Your order’s
almost ready if you want to wait here.”
 Lenora dipped her head in acknowledgement. “It seems
congratulations are in order.”
Her comment startled me. “Excuse me?”
Lenora’s smile seemed cryptic. “Your wedding.”
I frowned, wondering how she knew about my upcoming
marriage.
The well-dressed woman chuckled and nodded toward Aeri. “I
overheard you talking with your friend there.”
I released a soft snort and smiled, even though I knew Lenora
must have been barely inside my shop’s door when Aeri had
reminded me that I had only days until I exchanged vows with
Gideon. “Oh, thank you,” I said to the nosey woman.
Lenora scanned as much as she could see of me before she
smiled again. “Pre-wedding nerves?”
I silently chided Aeri for not moving faster. “Just the normal.
Nothing to worry about.”
She tilted her head. “Contrary to what your friend said, I think it
doesn’t hurt to spend some time reflecting on your choices before
you take your vows.”
I gave her a puzzled frown, wondering why she was butting into
my life. “It’s all good.”
Aeri bumped my elbow and slid the coffee to me, which I quickly
passed to the woman. “Thanks for coming in. Have a nice day.”
I sensed that Lenora wanted to say more, but I’d closed that
door of conversation and there was a fair number of people waiting
behind her. She dipped her head in thanks, took her coffee, and
strolled out the door into the frosty December day.
Aeri quietly huffed. “What was her problem?”
I shot her a quick glance. “I don’t know, but we’ve sure had
some odd people in here today.”
She scrunched her features. “No kidding.”
For the next little while, a few more customers that exuded
peculiar energies passed through my shop, but I politely ignored
their magic and served them like I would anyone else.
That was until a handsome younger man with short dark hair, a
hint of scruff on his chin, and deep green eyes that demanded
attention approached the counter. I’d sensed the other paranormals
probing my powers, but this man’s intense gaze and dark energy
was hard to ignore. I had no doubt that he had an agenda, and I
wished it had nothing to do with me.
But somehow, I feared it did.

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 Two

I stood at the counter, staring into the depths of the demon’s

green eyes, and forced a smile, hoping to keep things pleasant.
“What can we make for you?”
“Hmm…” he said as he lifted his gaze and studied the menu on
the wall behind me. “Coffee. Your medium blend. Large mug. To
stay.”
My energy buzzed in response to him, but I kept a straight face.
“Perfect. Anything else?”
“No, that’s all.” He turned and pointed toward a table near the
Purry Parlor. “Could you bring it out to me? I’ll be sitting over there.”
It wasn’t like other customers hadn’t asked for the same from
time to time. I just wished this man hadn’t. “We’d be happy to.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Not we. You.” He paused for a moment
before he gave me a hint of a smile. “Please?”
I swallowed my uneasiness. “Sure. Not a problem.”
His gaze remained intense while he paid and I gave him his
change, but once he walked away, he seemed more interested in my
café than me. I watched him until he stopped next to the Parlor’s
window and peeked inside.
“I’ll make it. You take it,” Aeri said in a quiet voice. “I’ll keep an
eye on you, too, while you take his order to the table.”
I turned to my friend with a puzzled look. “Something seems off
with him, right?”
Aeri dipped her head in agreement. “I can’t say what exactly,
though. Other than I’m sure he’s a demon.”
Neither one of us would likely have been able to recognize that
kind of energy before Gideon had come to town and stolen my
heart. But with him around, we’d all learned a lot about dark energy.
 I considered the number of odd people who’d entered my café
that morning and sighed. “What’s up with today? Is there a full
moon? A paranormal association that opted for a ski vacation?
What?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. But something seems to be. I’ll let
you know if I hear anything. You do the same.”
I helped the next customer in line while Aeri retrieved an
oversized ceramic mug from the back, filled it with coffee, and
placed it on a small tray. As we switched places, with her moving to
the register, she gave me a worried smile. “Try not to bring down the
house, okay?”
I laughed. “No worries. I’m totally cool. If this guy thinks a
demon is going to ruffle my feathers, he can think again.”
I remained on high alert as I approached the table, watching for
clues of the man’s intentions. Halfway there, he turned toward me,
and I wondered if he’d sensed me coming. I gave him a friendly
smile as I placed the tray on the table. “Here you go. I hope you
enjoy it.”
As I started to turn away, he lifted a hand, stopping me. “Do you
have a minute?”
I glanced toward the two customers waiting in line, knowing Aeri
could more than handle them. “For a minute, I suppose.” I slid into
the seat opposite him. “What’s this regarding?”
He lifted a casual shoulder and let it drop. “I’m curious about
Sweet Mountain Meadows. Your coffee shop has a nice vibe. Clever
idea to foster cats here.”
I decided he couldn’t be all bad if he appreciated my work, could
he? I smiled. “Kitties hold a special place in my heart, and I’m willing
to do just about anything to help them.”
He nodded in appreciation. “You seem like a kind person. Pretty,
too.”
I smiled, wondering if the man, who was likely a good twenty
years younger than me, was hitting on me. I casually placed my left
hand on the table, making sure Gideon’s ring was in full view.
“Thanks. I try to treat others with respect, including the four-legged
kind.”
 He chuckled. “Not the eight-legged ones?”
I was sure he meant spiders, and I scrunched my nose in
response. “I know the Goddess wants us to value all life, and I’m
happy to do it. But when it comes to sharing space with spiders,
that’s not happening. If I can remove them I will.”
His smile grew bigger, and I could tell he was enjoying our
conversation. “What if you can’t?”
I shrugged. “Squish.”
He lifted his coffee for a sip and made a gesture that said he
approved of the flavor. “I know there’s a coven of witches here, and
people seem okay with that. I’m curious how they treat other
paranormal beings.”
I studied his eyes, not seeing a trace of black flickering around
the edges of his incredibly green irises. If he had nefarious
intentions, I’d likely notice the signs there. I arched my brow. “Are
you asking about all paranormal beings or demons specifically?”
He leaned back in surprise and folded his arms. “Does that mean
you can sense me?”
Something in his expression made me think he didn’t necessarily
want me to know he was a demon. I leaned forward and whispered.
“It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone.”
He nodded, studying me. “Not many can pinpoint our energy
right away. I’m impressed.”
I snorted. “I have advanced training. I’m engaged to one. In a
week, we’ll be married.”
The look on his face didn’t turn to disappointment, so I decided
maybe he was just a friendly fellow. “What’s he like?” he asked.
“This demon of yours.”
I couldn’t help the wide smile that broke on my face. “Amazing.
Brilliant. Handsome. Kind. I can’t imagine loving anyone more. It
might seem corny to say, but he’s the love of my life.”
Happiness radiated from him. “I feel the same about my
girlfriend. I sometimes wonder why she loves me.”
I tilted my head, giving him a perplexed look. “That seems like
an odd thing to say. From where I’m sitting, you seem like a great
guy.”
 He scoffed and gazed into his coffee cup. “But, you know…
demon. It takes a special person to love one.”
I shook my head multiple times. “You sound a lot like my fiancé,
and I think you’re both delusional when it comes to what makes me
and your girlfriend fall in love with you guys.”
He didn’t seem convinced. “Luckily, I’m only half. Maybe that’s
why she tolerates me.”
Half? I leaned back and studied the man, his nose, chiseled
jawline, and sensuous lips, and then gasped. “You’re Lucas.”
He widened his eyes in surprise. “How did you know?”
An embarrassed laugh slipped from me. “The resemblance
between you and Gideon is strong. I should have noticed the
moment I sat down. I guess I was too caught up in wondering why
a strange guy wanted to talk to me to recognize that you were his
nephew.”
Lucas gave me a sheepish grin. “I probably should have
introduced myself right away. But I wanted to get a feel for the
woman my uncle is about to marry before I did.”
I chuckled. “And?”
He gave me a firm nod. “I like you. I think you’ll be good for
him, too.”
It was nice to have his approval. “Why’s that?”
He laughed. “Well, for one, ever since you came into his life, he’s
butted out of mine. He’s too preoccupied with you, so thanks for
that.”
I recalled Gideon telling me that his relationship with his nephew
had been tumultuous at times, and I sent Lucas a happy smile. “My
pleasure. To be honest, with his charisma, my heart didn’t stand a
chance.”
Lucas smiled and shook his head. “Persistence is his middle
name. He hounded me forever to embrace the demon side of me
and wouldn’t give up. Relentless also describes him.”
I stared into Lucas’s bright green eyes, sensing a warm flow of
energy between us. For only being half-demon, Lucas’s powers
seemed strong. “Does that mean you’ve embraced your heritage?”
 He released a long exhale. “Yes and no. Sometimes there’s
nothing I can do to contain that beast, and I don’t like it. But it
seems the more willing I am to work in tandem with it, the better.”
I nodded, fully understanding. “I was a lot like you up until
recently and only used my magic for mundane things. Even then, I
avoided it if I could help it. But circumstances forced me to change,
and I’m happy they did. I’m a better person now.”
“Really? From the way my uncle talked about you, I was
concerned that you were this incredibly formidable witch who’d
somehow managed to trap the man who swore he’d never marry.”
I could never imagine being described that way. “Formidable?
Me against your uncle’s powers? I wouldn’t stand a chance.”
I glanced toward the door of my café as though I might catch
Gideon strolling in. “Where is he, by the way? And Opal? I thought
you were coming together in a couple of days.”
He finished a sip of his coffee and set the oversized mug back
on the table. “Gideon can’t meet until later. Something to do with his
work. Opal and I were supposed to fly together, but she had trouble
at her inn and was delayed. Since I already had the time off, I
decided to drive down by myself. Spend some time with my uncle.
Opal will fly down in a couple of days, and we’ll drive back together.”
The Oregon Coast was more than a half a day away, but he
didn’t seem exhausted from driving. “Did you just get here?”
“Nah, I got here last night and checked into the hotel.”
I frowned. “I’m sorry, but you’re not staying in a hotel while
you’re here. Even if Gideon hasn’t yet, I insist that you stay with us
at the cottage. We’re expecting you to.”
Lucas chuckled. “Yeah, he told me the same thing. But I got in
late last night and didn’t want to bother you.”
I shook my head in admonishment. “You would never be a
bother. You know you’re like a son to him.”
A thoughtful smile curved his lips. “I know. Hasn’t been the
easiest for us to navigate, but I can see that he’s done what he
thought was best.”
I found Lucas to be an impressive guy, and I understood why
Gideon was so proud of him. “Well, since your uncle can’t play for a
while, how about we do? I can show you around town, and we can
have lunch.”
He glanced toward the counter. “You can just leave?”
I shrugged. “Why not? I’m the boss. I can do what I want.
Mostly, anyway,” I added with a laugh. “My part-time help will be
here soon, and I can pull Nicole from the Purry Parlor to help Aeri in
the meantime.”
Lucas finished his coffee while I informed my staff of my plans
and grabbed my purse. The morning had been a bit odd, but the
afternoon was shaping up to be great. Since I knew how important
Lucas was to Gideon, I relished the idea of getting to know him
better.
I slipped into my coat as I returned from the backroom and
found Lucas staring into the Parlor again. “Any time you want to stop
in and play with the kitties, you’re more than welcome to.”
His eyes brightened. “I plan to as soon as Opal gets here. I
know she’d love it, too.”
I tilted my head toward Meowkins’ door. “Let’s go. Do you want
to drive, or should I?”
He snorted. “I will. Being a police officer has left me with control
issues.”
I chuckled, thinking he was an awful lot like his uncle.
The first thing I noticed when I stepped outside was that the
sun coming in through my café’s window had made it seem a lot
warmer than it was. A chilly breeze wrapped around me, and I
shoved my hands into my pockets.
A second later, I spotted three police vehicles parked in random
places near my shop. In some cities, that might not seem odd, but in
the Meadows, it usually meant something bad had happened.
Lucas followed me outside and spotted them, too. “Something
going on?”
An eerie feeling fell over me. “I’m not sure. I don’t see anything.
Maybe the officers are all having lunch somewhere nearby.”
He pointed toward a sleek black Infiniti Q60. “I’m parked right
there.”
 As we headed in that direction, I searched the area and
squinted, trying to see inside the storefront windows across the
street, looking for signs of the officers. I didn’t want to worry Lucas,
but I was concerned.
The moment Lucas reached for the passenger door handle of his
car, a rush of movement caught me unaware. Five officers raced
toward us with guns drawn until they had us surrounded, causing
me to choke on a quick inhalation.
Balding and muscular Officer Kemp focused a fierce gaze on
Lucas. “Hold it right there.”

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 Three

After hearing Officer Kemp’s chilling command to halt, I shot my

hands into the air. My pulse spiked as I shifted my gaze to the tall,
blond-haired Officer Sofia Doyle and exhaled my surprise. “What’s
going on?”
She didn’t respond. Instead, she shifted her focus to Lucas
who’d also raised his hands, watching him as if he was a dangerous
criminal.
Officer Kemp gestured with his head toward the black Infinity.
“Is this your car?”
Lucas stared at him, his gaze heavy with suspicion. “It is. What’s
the problem?”
Officer Kemp twirled his finger in the air. “Keep your hands
where I can see them and turn around. Daisy step away.”
Lucas exhaled an impatient breath but did as he was told. I, on
the other hand, didn’t move.
Officer Kemp kept his gun trained on Lucas and nodded to
Officer Doyle. She removed the cuffs from her belt as she strode
forward. Once Sofia had reached Lucas, she grasped one of his
arms, swung it downward, and slapped a cuff on his wrist.
“What’s this about?” Lucas asked.
She cuffed his other hand. “You’ll need to come with us to
answer some questions.”
Lucas nodded, taking it all in stride, but I needed answers. “Wait
a minute. I don’t know what’s happened and why you think my
future nephew-in-law might be involved, but you can’t just cuff him
and take him away. I can assure you that he hasn’t done anything,
and you’ve obviously confused him with someone else.”
Officer Kemp, who I normally liked, shifted a sideways warning
glance toward me. “Don’t cause trouble, Daisy.”
 If they thought I was trouble, I feared what would happen when
Gideon found out. “At least tell me what’s going on.”
“Daisy,” Lucas cautioned. “Let them do their job. We can sort out
the misunderstanding at the station.”
I inhaled a deep breath and remembered Gideon’s words of
caution when I’d been hauled in for questioning. I focused on Lucas.
“You’re not sorting out anything without a lawyer. I’ll call Gideon and
have him contact Mr. Bianchi. In the meantime, don’t say anything.”
Now that Lucas was fully cuffed, he turned to face me, seeming
more annoyed than upset. “There’s no need to make this a big deal.
I have nothing to hide. Once we’re at the station, they’ll see that I’m
also in law enforcement, and we can quickly sort things out.”
I dropped my jaw, surprised that he seemed so calm. “Oh, you
can count on the fact that I’m going to make a big deal out of this.”
I shifted my gaze to Officer Kemp. “This is a huge mistake. Why
won’t you listen to me?”
Officer Kemp dipped his head. “Sorry, Daisy. Feel free to take it
up with my supervisor. In the meantime, he’s coming with us.”
I watched with growing concern as they walked Lucas toward a
police cruiser and placed him in the backseat. My hands shook as I
dug in my purse for my phone to call Gideon. If I was upset, he was
going to be… Well, I didn’t want to think about what he’d be.
Two officers remained behind, and I stared at them as I held the
phone to my ear waiting for Gideon to answer. After five rings, it
switched to voicemail, and I growled. “Gideon, call me as soon as
you get this message.”
I ended the call just as a truck from Dave’s Towing stopped in
the middle of the street next to Lucas’s car. The truck’s yellow
caution lights flashed, and the burly driver jumped down from
behind the steering wheel. He strode to the waiting officers with a
clipboard in hand.
Horrified that they were going to tow Lucas’s beautiful Infinity, I
hurried forward. “You’re taking his car, too? Why do you need it? Let
me drive it and park it at my house.”
Sofia shot me a warning look before she returned her gaze to
the tow truck driver. He held out the clipboard, and she quickly filled
out information while I stood there staring with hot blood coursing
through my veins. She handed the clipboard back to the driver. “Haul
it to our compound.”
He lifted his head in acknowledgement. “Will do.”
I watched as the driver maneuvered his vehicle until it was
parked in front of Lucas’s Infinity. He lowered the lift and exited the
truck. When he unrolled the hook and cable from his vehicle and
strode toward Lucas’s car, I pointed an accusing finger at him. “Look
here.” I briefly dropped my gaze to the name patch on his shirt.
“Steven. You’d better make sure you handle this car carefully. If
there’s even one scratch, things will not end well.”
The officer with Sofia cleared his throat. “It’s not a good idea to
be making threats, especially in front of police officers.”
I huffed my disgust. Before I could speak, I spotted Nicole
approaching. She must have seen the commotion and stepped out
to investigate. With a calming expression, she wrapped her hand
around my elbow and tugged. “Come on. You’re not going to solve
anything standing here.”
She was right, but I glared once more at the officers. “This isn’t
over.”
Nicole jerked on my arm and leaned close to my ear. “That’s also
a threat. You’d better come with me now.”
I gave in to her request and followed her back inside Meowkins,
heading straight for the backroom. Once there, Nicole grabbed my
hands and stared firmly into my eyes. “Take a breath. Several in
fact.”
I filled my lungs and blew the air out in a rush. “This can’t be
happening, Nicole. Gideon’s nephew just arrived and now he’s been
arrested?” My voice rose with each word and left me shaking.
She patted my elbow. “Calm down. We both know it’s a
misunderstanding. Call Gideon. He can help.”
I shook my head repeatedly. “I did. He’s on a job, and he’s not
answering.”
Nicole nodded slowly. “Okay, then what would be a good next
step?”
 Her serenity seeped into me, and I released a shaky breath.
“Lucas needs a lawyer.”
She smiled. “I know someone you can call.”
I shook my head. “No. I need to call their family attorney. He’ll
know what to do.”
“Perfect. Do you have his number?”
I drew a hand over my face, trying to gather my wits. I did have
Mr. Bianchi’s number. He’d given it to me when he’d helped me out
before. But, to be honest, the older demon with slicked-back white
hair, who reminded me of a member of the Mafia, intimidated me.
Unfortunately, I had no choice. I was still clutching my phone in
my hand from my failed attempt to reach Gideon, so I opened my
contact list and scrolled for the lawyer’s number. Mr. Giuseppe
Bianchi answered after the first ring, his voice sounding smooth and
powerful. “Hello, Daisy. How may I assist you?”
The fact that he knew I was the one calling him increased my
anxiety. Although I was certain he’d have caller I.D., the same as
me. “The police just carted off Gideon’s nephew for questioning.”
“Ah, yes. Lucas.”
My voice shook as I spoke. “I don’t know why they took him.
But they also towed his car.”
“I see. Sweet Mountain Meadows police station?”
How did the man always seem so calm? “Yes.”
“I’ll be there shortly. Don’t worry, Ms. Daisy. I’ll handle
everything.”
We ended the call, and I blew out a breath full of frustration and
fear.
Nicole gave me a kind smile. “Feel better?”
Did I? I wasn’t sure. “A little. But that Mr. Bianchi. He scares me.
I’m glad he’s on our side and not the other way around.”
She chuckled. “He seems very competent, though. He had the
police release you in no time.”
Indeed, he had. The notion reassured me. “I hope he can do the
same for Lucas. It would be especially nice if he could do so before
Gideon calls me back. In the meantime, Officer Kemp invited me to
speak to his supervisor, and I intend to do exactly that.”
Nicole grinned, her deep brown eyes sparkling. “You go, girl.”

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 Four

The frosty air nipped at my nose and cheeks as I hurried from

my car to the front door of the police station. Inside the building was
warmer, but a chill still rested in my heart. I knew it wasn’t my fault
that Lucas had been arrested, but it felt like it was because he was
in my care when it had happened. Worse, I worried that Lucas
would never want to come to our town again after this, and that
would break Gideon’s heart.
A beautiful pine decorated with white lights and deep blue bows
and ornaments graced the reception area, reminding me that my
wedding was only a week away and Christmas only days after that.
Lucas’s arrest literally had the potential to ruin everything.
I shook my head, chasing away the negative thoughts. I couldn’t
wallow there, or it would make everything worse. Instead, I strode
toward the younger man who sat behind the thick glass separating
his workstation from the reception area. Most of the time, he
greeted me with friendliness, but there was once when things had
grown awkward because my friend Sergeant Corey Shelton had
refused to see me.
I hoped that wouldn’t be the case this time.
I smiled at the young man. “Is Sergeant Shelton available? I
have something important to discuss with him.”
A twinkle lit the dispatcher’s eyes. “He is. He let me know that
you’d likely come in this morning and told me to send you back to
his office once you arrived.”
The lock on the entrance door clicked, and I let a slow exhale of
relief slide from me. “Thank you.”
I stepped into the interior of the police station and hurried
toward Corey’s office. If he was willing to see me, that had to be
good news. Maybe they’d already realized that Lucas was innocent.
Maybe the two of them were in Corey’s office having a chat about
law enforcement things, and Lucas would be ready to go once I
arrived.
When I reached Corey’s door and peeked inside, I was
disappointed to find that wasn’t the case. I knocked on the
doorframe, and the blond-haired, blue-eyed man who had a crush
on me lifted his gaze. “Come in, Daisy.”
I wasn’t positive, but the tone of his voice sounded dire, and my
nerves tightened in response. I stepped inside, and he motioned for
me to close the door. I did so and claimed a seat across the desk
from him.
The police sergeant closed the folder on his desk, met my gaze,
and exhaled. “I expect you’re here about Lucas Keller.”
I folded my arms. “You know I am. Where is he, and when can
he be released?”
Corey gave me a small smile, but his pretty blue eyes held no
warmth. “I’m afraid that’s not going to happen any time soon.”
My stomach clenched. “What do you mean? You can’t hold an
innocent person for longer than twenty-four hours, and if you wait
that long, I might not ever speak to you again.”
He raked his fingers over his short hair and shook his head. “You
might want to hear me out before you say that.”
I pulled my folded arms tighter against my stomach, finding it
difficult to believe there was anything he could say to convince me
otherwise, but also fearful that he would. “Fine. Tell me. Why are
you holding Gideon’s nephew?”
Corey studied me, and I realized his features were as worried as
I felt. Then he nodded as though he’d decided what to tell me.
“Early this morning a jogger found a young woman near the
outskirts of town. Initial indications are that she’d been strangled.”
I dropped my jaw, my heart aching for the poor girl and her
family. “Dear Goddess. That’s awful. But I don’t see what that has to
do with Lucas?”
Corey exhaled. “How well do you know him, Daisy?”
Fear crept inside me with icy fingers as I struggled with what to
say. “Personally, I just met him this morning. But I’ve heard about
him many times from Gideon. Lucas is an upstanding man. He’s the
chief of police in Crystal Cove, Oregon. Have you called them to ask
about his personal and employment history?”
He tapped the folder in front of him. “We have. His boss, the
mayor, has nothing but good things to say about him. Lucas has his
full confidence.”
I opened my hands wide. “Well, there you go. What else needs
to be said? Just because he’s not a resident here, doesn’t mean he
killed that woman.”
Corey snorted and shook his head in disbelief. “You should know
me well enough to understand that we base our actions and
conclusions on facts alone.”
I swallowed against the hard lump in my throat. “Okay, then.
What evidence do you have?”
“I can’t give you specifics regarding the victim, but I can tell you
a car matching the description of Lucas’s, including an Oregon plate,
was seen pulled over at the side of the road a few miles outside of
town. The witness spotted the victim getting into a shiny black
Infinity. This witness knows the victim personally, and how many
other shiny black cars that fit that description do you think come
through our small town? In a week? In a month? In a year?”
The fingers of despair tightened around my neck. “Very few, I
would guess.”
“If any,” he responded.
I shook my head. “That still doesn’t mean Lucas hurt her. He
could have given her a ride, dropped her off, and someone else
came along afterward.”
Corey nodded slowly. “It’s a possibility. But is it a probability?”
Unwanted emotions swelled inside me, mixing with my thoughts,
and churned up distress. “It doesn’t matter if it’s a probability if it’s
not true.”
He stared at me for a long moment. “But you don’t know that
it’s not true. You said yourself only minutes ago that today was the
first time you’d met him.”
I shook my head repeatedly. “If he was a murderer, I would
have sensed it.”
 “How?” he challenged.
I lifted my shoulders and let them drop. “Dark energy. Or
negative thoughts.”
He tilted his head. “And what kind of energy did you sense?”
Cold dread, icier than a stream of melting snow, doused me. “All
demons have dark energy.”
Corey pointed a finger at me. “Exactly.”
I gasped. “You can’t say that because someone is a demon that
they’re also a murderer.”
He shrugged. “They take lives, don’t they?”
I scoffed in disbelief. “That’s not the same thing, and you know
it.”
I stared at him for a long moment, wondering what was behind
his words. Because something was. “Does this have anything to do
with the fact that I’m getting married in a week? Did you have
Gideon’s nephew arrested to stop or ruin my wedding?”
It was his turn to huff in disbelief. His lips curved into a
disappointed smirk. “Are you serious? Yes, Daisy, we both know that
I’m attracted to you. That’s a given, but we’ve managed to maintain
a friendship even though you’re marrying another man. Do you think
so little of me that you believe I would wreck your life just to get
another chance with you?”
No. Corey was a good man, and I shouldn’t let my fears color
my thoughts. Shame heated my cheeks, and I shook my head. “I’m
sorry. No, I don’t really think that. But it’s the only plausible story
that my mind could create despite how absurd it is.”
He exhaled, and the emotional temperature in the room dropped
several degrees. “Thank you.”
I rubbed my thumb over my temple, trying to force another
solution to come to fruition. “Maybe someone else wants to wreck
my life then. There are a few people in town who don’t like me.”
His brows rose toward his hairline. “Enough to commit murder to
stop your marriage?”
I dropped my shoulders as the rest of my fire fizzled away. “No.
But there has to be another explanation for why this is happening.”
 A knock sounded on the door before it opened, and Officer
Doyle poked her head inside. Her gaze briefly landed on me before
shifting to Corey. “Keller’s attorney has just arrived.”
Corey nodded in response, and Sofia closed the door, leaving us
alone once again. He stood. “I need to go.”
I jumped to my feet and hurried to block the doorway. “Please,
can’t you give me something? I know Lucas didn’t do it. Help me
know where to look for information.”
He approached me and stared down into my eyes. “There isn’t
much to tell right now, Daisy, other than what I told you about the
eyewitness account. We’ve obtained Lucas’s car, and our forensic
experts are processing it as we speak. I’m about to question Lucas,
and I may know more after that. We haven’t released the name of
the victim yet, so there’s nothing else I can say.”
He took hold of my shoulders and gently pushed me back. “I’ll
let you know what I can when I can. But you need to understand.
You’re related to the suspect, or soon will be, so the information I
can share might be significantly limited.”
I nodded my head quickly. I’d take anything he could give me at
that point. “Thank you.”
He dipped his head, opened the door, and stepped out. I
glanced at his desk, tempted to open the file that lay on top, certain
that it contained information about the murder. I could likely learn
the victim’s identity from it.
But that seemed like a huge breach of trust, and I couldn’t do it.
If the woman lived in the Meadows, which it sounded like she did,
I’d hear about her death soon enough.
I stepped out the door and missed colliding with the front
dispatcher by less than an inch. “There’s a very angry man—”
He stopped suddenly. “You’re not Sergeant Shelton.”
I shook my head. “He just left to interrogate someone.”
Someone, meaning my future nephew-in-law. Worse, I had a
sinking feeling that the very angry man he was about to report to
Corey was my future husband.
I gave him a brief smile and stepped around him. “Excuse me.”
 I didn’t look back as I rushed toward the front of the police
station, feeling an urgent need to calm the so-called angry man
before he released his full demon powers on everyone.

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 Five

Gideon’s explosive energy hit me the second I left the inner

sanctum of the police station and exited into the lobby. The polished
man that I’d fallen in love with was gone. He’d been replaced by a
crazed demon.
His dark hair looked like he’d just climbed out of bed, though I
knew it was likely tousled by him running his hands through it like
he did when he was upset. Black consumed his irises, leaving no
trace of his mesmerizing blue eyes behind. But the worst was the
look of anger that contorted his handsome face.
In another life, I would have been terrified by the dark energy
vibrating from him. But Gideon was the love of my life, and I knew
his heart.
I hurried forward and wrapped my arms around his waist,
soaking up as much of the powerful energy as I could without
becoming overly nauseous. “I’m so sorry that I couldn’t protect
Lucas better. The police showing up caught me completely off
guard.”
He leaned back but didn’t entirely push me away. His midnight
eyes searched my face while he clenched his jaw. When he spoke,
his voice echoed through the room. “Why didn’t you answer your
phone? You told me to call you immediately, but you didn’t answer.”
I glanced through the glass toward the dispatcher and found
him on his feet watching us intently. I knew if Gideon got any
angrier, he’d call for assistance. I lifted a hand to let him know
everything was fine.
When I shifted my gaze back to Gideon, his fury tugged at my
heart, and I knew I had to help him regain control. “I’m sorry. I
didn’t hear it ring. I guess I was too caught up in what happened.”
 He pressed his lips into a thin line and blew a frustrated breath
out his nose, causing his nostrils to flare. “What exactly did happen,
Daisy?”
I tugged on his arm, but moving him was like trying to push a
mountain. “Come on. We can talk about this outside.”
He snorted. “I’m not leaving without my nephew.”
I shot another glance toward the dispatcher who still watched us
but now held a phone in his hand. I knew our time was up, and the
last thing I needed was to have my fiancé cited for disorderly
conduct. I gathered my heated frustration and used the powerful
emotion to fuel me. I clamped my hands on both sides of his face
and stared into his demon eyes. “We’re leaving. Now,” I growled.
My fierce disposition seemed to pull him out of his anger
somewhat, and he blinked.
“Now,” I repeated. I wrapped tight fingers around his wrist and
jerked him forward. When he complied with my demand and let me
lead him toward the exit, I breathed a little easier.
The bright sunlight blinded me as the air outside surrounded us
with an icy embrace, and I was grateful for the clarity it brought.
Gideon, too, seemed to cool down, and I could now see bits of blue
amongst the black. From that point on, I knew I would have to be
the calm one where Lucas was concerned.
I took Gideon’s face in my hands once again, but this time I held
him softly. “Listen to me. I know this is upsetting.”
His ire flared. “I could bring down that whole building if I
wanted to. Destroy them all.”
His breath froze in puffs as he spoke, and a shiver raced through
me. “I know. But you’re not that kind of person, remember? We
need to give Mr. Bianchi time to work his magic.”
Gideon blinked several times and shook his head as though what
I’d suggested was unacceptable.
I stroked his cheek, hoping it would calm him. “I’m not saying
we’re not going to fight with everything we have, okay? I feel the
same way you do.”
He clenched his jaw. “You don’t know or love Lucas like I do.
You can’t feel the same.”
 Of course, he was right. “Okay. Maybe not, but I share your
anger.”
He shook his head repeatedly. “What in Hades happened?” he
finally asked, his voice exceptionally calm, which I knew was only a
façade. At least it would keep him from being arrested.
I released his face and took his hand. “Mr. Bianchi is inside
handling things for now. Let’s walk to Meowkins and talk on the way.
You need time to cool off before you try to deal with the police
again, and the cold air will do us both good.”
He didn’t argue, so I started walking, holding his hand as I did.
The distance between the station and my shop was several blocks,
but it would help us burn off some of our exasperation. “Your
nephew’s girlfriend Opal couldn’t fly here tomorrow. Something with
her work. So, Lucas came down early to spend time with you.”
He shook his head in disappointment. “So much for that.”
I gave him a commiserating smile. “Let’s have faith that
everyone will be okay.”
Two women on the sidewalk ahead of us stepped to the side
even though there was plenty of room, watching us intently as we
passed. I didn’t recognize them, but I offered them a smile anyway
because the Meadows was that kind of town. They nodded in return,
and I heard them whispering as we walked away. If my mind hadn’t
been consumed by Lucas’s detainment, I would have given their
behavior more attention.
Instead, I explained to Gideon how things had happened and
that I’d visited Corey at the station for more information. Then I
paused on the sidewalk, forcing him to stop, too, and faced him. “He
told me a young woman was murdered last night. Before she was,
someone saw a black car matching the description of Lucas’s Infinity
pull over just outside of town, and the woman got in.”
Gideon drew a hand over the whiskers on his chin and exhaled a
deep breath. “Not good. I hope it wasn’t Lucas pulling over to give
her a ride. If so, he’s too kind for his own good.”
I nodded and started to walk again. “I can see that. He has a
good soul.”
“What else did Corey say?”
 I released a deep breath. “Not much. He hadn’t interviewed
Lucas yet, and his people were barely beginning to process his car.”
Gideon growled. “I can’t believe this, Daisy. It’s unimaginable. If
he did give her a ride, you know they’ll find her DNA inside his car.”
“I know,” I said softly. “But I think they’ll need more than that to
charge him.” At least, I hoped so.
We reached Meowkins, and I noticed that the black in Gideon’s
eyes had faded. I was grateful because a calm, calculating demon
was much more helpful than a crazy one. We entered, and several
customers turned in our direction and stared. I wasn’t surprised
because my man often had that effect on people. But still, their
overt attention seemed rude.
I ignored them and pointed Gideon toward the Purry Parlor. “Go
hang out with the kitties for a bit. I’ll bring you a coffee, and we can
wait together to hear from Mr. Bianchi.”
Thankfully, he was agreeable to my suggestion.
My mind raced with possible outcomes while I filled our cups
and updated Aeri and Nicole on what had happened. Their
commiseration and assurance helped greatly, and I was in a better
place when I headed back to the Parlor.
I found Gideon on the couch with all our foster cats surrounding
him. Some were on the top of the couch, while others were on the
cushion next to him. One of our newest kitties, a salt and peppered
tabby with a white belly and delicate white mittens had claimed his
lap for her own.
He managed a smile when I walked in. “This is exactly what I
needed. Thank you.”
I snorted. “I’m just glad the police didn’t arrest you.”
I handed him a cup and sat next to him, as close as I could get
without pushing my furry friends out of the way. I needed the calm
of the sanctuary, too.
I’d just taken the first sip of my coffee, when my phone rang. It
startled me, and then I panicked that it might be Mr. Bianchi calling
with an update. I shoved my coffee toward Gideon. “Hold this.”
With nervous fingers, I fished the phone from my pocket.
Needless to say, I was disappointed that my wedding florist was the
one calling. I answered, thinking it was a last-minute confirmation.
“I’m so sorry,” the florist said. “We’ve encountered a problem at
our shop and won’t be able to provide flowers for your wedding.”
My exclamation was enough to send kitties flying from the
couch. “What do you mean? It’s only seven days away.”
She apologized again. “I’ve contacted Maisy’s Floral and sent her
the designs we came up with. She thinks she can accommodate you
with some minor adjustments. Please give her a call, and again, I’m
so, so sorry.”
I hung up feeling stunned.
Gideon wrapped his warm fingers around my hand. “What
happened?”
I shook my head in disbelief. “The florist canceled. Told me to
call another lady.”
I blinked back tears of frustration. “I don’t want to deal with this
today, but I’m afraid if I don’t, we won’t have any flowers.” I
struggled to fill my lungs. “What am I saying? I don’t even know if
there will be a wedding at this point. Not if things get worse with
Lucas.”
Gideon wrapped an arm around me, tugging me close. “I’ll take
care of Lucas.”
“And end up in jail yourself because you can’t control your
emotions?”
My question seemed to stun him. He paused, and when he
spoke again, his voice was much calmer. “It’ll be okay. Just call the
new florist and go from there.”
I offered him an unhappy frown. “You make it sound easy.”
He squeezed me against him. “Maybe it will be. One way or the
other, we’ll have flowers, and Lucas will be free from this mess, too.
I’ll make sure that happens, so try not to worry too much, my
lovely.”
I was sure his words were meant to comfort me, but they did
exactly the opposite. “Without you ending up in trouble, too?” I
pressed.
A sly grin curved his mouth. “I won’t give the police any reason
to come after me, okay?”
 I pressed my lips together, but nodded, hoping I could hold him
to his word. “I’m going to head to my office for a few minutes to
make that florist call, just in case I need access to my wedding
notes.”
He gave me an encouraging nod, and I sent a prayer to the
Goddess asking for help as I walked away.
An hour later, Gideon emerged from the Purry Parlor with a dark
look on his face and strode to where I stood behind the counter.
“Giuseppe just called. They intend to hold Lucas for the full twenty-
four hours to give them time to finish processing his car. They may
or may not file charges after that.”
I clutched my stomach in despair. “Oh, Gideon. I’m so sorry.
There must be something we can do.”
He gave me a pointed look.
“Besides that.”
He blew out an angry breath. “I guess we wait.”
I didn’t really believe Gideon would do something drastic. At
least not yet. And I didn’t want to find out if he would later.

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 Six

The following morning, I was at my desk again talking to my

new florist, and we finally settled matters. She’d had to substitute
my white anemones with white lisianthus, but once everything was
said and done, I found that I preferred the rose-like flowers with
flaring petals. The delicate lisianthus was often connected with
gratitude and life-long happiness, which seemed like the perfect
choice to me for a wedding.
I was grateful that had been solved because Lucas still hadn’t
been released, and I needed something to go my way. The
atmosphere at my house had been tense before I’d left for work,
and I worried that Gideon would forget his promise and do
something stupid.
Luckily, work would be a good distraction while I waited. With
one thing settled, I stepped out of my tiny office and headed down
the hall to the café. Aeri was working the counter, and my part-time
help Sailor had come in early because she was on winter break.
Thankfully, we had no customers, paranormal or otherwise, currently
waiting to order. My dear friend glanced up at me with a hopeful
expression. “Everything good with the flowers?”
I sagged my shoulders in relief, wanting to cry after the
emotional turmoil of the previous day. “Yes, thank the Goddess.”
Aeri’s face brightened with a happy smile. “When your life’s in an
uproar, it’s hard to trust in the Goddess that everything will turn out
okay.”
She nailed my thoughts exactly. “That’s so true. I wish I could
believe that would be the case with Lucas, too.”
Sailor moved closer, taking up space on the opposite side of me.
The pretty college student who’d become something of a daughter
to me placed a hand on my forearm, and I felt a spark of magic from
her touch. I met her deep brown-eyed gaze with a smile.
She gave me a solid, confident nod. “You should listen to Aeri
because she’s right. She told me the same thing after my mom died,
and it really helped.”
Emotion sprang to the surface, and I covered a small gasp with
my hand. “You’re right. Both of you. People survive much worse
every day. I can manage this.”
Sailor hugged me tight. “Don’t forget. You have us, too.”
When Gideon appeared in the doorway of my shop, we all
turned in surprise. He jerked his head toward the street. “Giuseppe
arranged it so I could talk to Lucas. I’m heading there now.”
My pulse spiked. “I want to come, too.”
He nodded and seemed relieved that I’d be with him.
Truth be told, there was no way I’d let him go back to the police
station alone at this point. “Give me a second to grab my coat.”
I hurried to gather my things, and soon, we were in Gideon’s
car, headed toward the police station. Mr. Bianchi with his
intimidatingly powerful aura was waiting for us in the lobby when we
arrived. He stood, using his cane to steady himself as he greeted us.
Afterward, he turned to the dispatcher behind the glass and gave
him a nod.
A few moments later, the door to the interior of the station
opened, and Corey peeked out. He held the door open for us. “Come
on in.”
None of us spoke as he led us down several hallways to an area
I’d never been before. We stopped at a solid door with a tiny
window, and Corey scanned his badge. The lock clicked, and I soon
found myself in a utilitarian waiting room with another man sitting
behind thick glass.
Corey strode forward. “They’re here to see Lucas Keller.”
The small, balding man nodded. “I’ll notify the guard. Go ahead
and go back.”
The lock on a door next to the reception area clicked, and Corey
moved forward to open it. But instead of leading us in, he blocked
the way. “Only two of you, please.”
 I glanced at Gideon, silently asking if he’d like me to wait
outside. Before he could answer, Mr. Bianchi tapped Gideon’s leg
with his cane. “You two go ahead.”
I sent the older man a grateful smile. “Thank you.”
Corey gestured with his head that Gideon and I should follow
him to the visitation room. Inside, two empty chairs with white
plastic seats and silver legs waited in front of a thick glass window.
Gideon opened his hand to indicate that I should sit first, but I didn’t
want to. I didn’t want to be there at all.
Fear and sadness echoed from the walls, causing a sick feeling
to roll over me. I gathered my courage, wanting to be strong for
Gideon as I stepped inside the bleak room and claimed a chair. He
sat next to me, seeming as solid and cold as a stone and took my
hand. When his unusually chilly fingers wrapped around mine, it
reminded me once again of the seriousness of our situation.
“When you’re finished, you can use the public exit across the
way,” Corey said and then disappeared.
A tense silence crowded around Gideon and me while we
waited, leaving me with shallow, nervous breaths. A few moments
later, I heard noises, and Lucas appeared with his hands cuffed in
front of him. I inhaled at the sight and sensed Gideon’s anger
churning.
I knew I needed to calm my emotions so that I didn’t fuel
Gideon’s ire with them, but it wasn’t easy. I squeezed his hand to
show my support, knowing it was the least I could do.
The officer accompanying Lucas helped him into the chair on the
opposite side and walked away, though I was certain he wouldn’t go
far.
I spoke in a loud voice, hoping the officer could hear me. “Are
the cuffs really necessary?”
Lucas shook his head at me and smiled. “It’s best to never
antagonize the police. He’s only doing his job.”
Gideon’s eyes grew darker. “They’re treating you like a cursed
criminal.”
Lucas glanced between us and shrugged. “They’re holding me
for homicide. I would do the same at my station. For all they know,
I’m a killer. It would be negligent to not keep me restrained.”
I snorted in disbelief. “How can you act so casual about all of
this? It’s a nightmare.”
Lucas dipped his head in agreement. “I’ll admit it’s the last thing
I expected when coming here. But I’ll be out soon. They won’t have
enough to charge me, though I might remain a suspect until they
find the real killer.”
He focused on Gideon with a stern look. “Promise me right now
that you’re not going to do anything rash. Doing so will only hurt
me.”
Gideon gripped my fingers tight enough that it hurt, and I
wondered if he realized that he still held my hand. He exhaled a
deep breath. “I’m not promising anything, but you can rest assured
that I don’t have any current plans.”
Lucas rolled his eyes. “Current plans? How about no plans? This
is my life, and my issue to deal with.”
Gideon frowned but didn’t respond.
Lucas clenched his jaw for several moments. “When have you
ever listened to me?”
I could sense their heightened emotions would send things
spiraling fast if I didn’t intervene. I squeezed Gideon’s hand as
tightly as I could and focused on Lucas. “That discussion can wait
for another time. Right now, I want to know what happened. They
said they have a witness who claims to have seen the victim getting
into your car.”
He nodded. “It’s true. I did give her a ride.”
“Why?” Gideon asked, the word sounding like an explosion.
Lucas turned an irritated gaze to his uncle. “Because she was
walking alone on a deserted highway. I didn’t want anything to
happen to her.”
And yet, it still had. That poor woman and her family. “Do you
know who she was? Her name?”
Lucas nodded again. “Jenny Casperson.”
I inhaled sharply before I could stop myself and covered my
mouth. An image of the teenager popped center screen in my mind.
Wispy thin. Blond hair. A bubbly personality and dimples. Wiped from
the face of the earth by a monster.
Gideon turned to me. “Did you know her?”
I swallowed the despair that thickened my throat. “Not really.
Her mother is one of my regular customers, and Jenny came into
Meowkins with her every once in a while. Her mom must be
devastated.”
Gideon lifted his brows, looking concerned, and I wondered if
that was the first moment that he’d stopped to consider this tragedy
had affected others besides us. “If you visit her, please give her my
condolences. If she needs anything, help with burial expenses or
whatever, let me know.”
His words reminded me once again why I loved him so much. “I
will.”
Gideon turned to look at Lucas. “What happened after you
picked her up? Where did you go?”
Lucas’s gaze grew sadder. “When she got into my car, she looked
like she’d been crying. I asked if she was okay, and she told me
she’d just had a fight with her boyfriend, and he’d forced her out of
the car on the side of the road.”
I drew my brows in disgust. “So, he just left her there? In the
dark? In freezing cold weather?”
Lucas shrugged. “Sounds like a great guy, doesn’t he? Anyway,
she was happy that I’d given her a ride so that she could get home
before midnight. She didn’t want to call her mom to pick her up, but
she also said her mom would kill her if she was out later than that. I
didn’t press her because I didn’t want to further upset her, but in
hindsight, I should have asked more questions. Should’ve insisted on
dropping her off at her house instead of a block away.”
I couldn’t help but wonder how often tiny decisions affected the
outcomes of our lives. Or our deaths. “Did she mention her
boyfriend’s name?”
He shook his head. “No.”
I bit my bottom lip, trying to remember what Nola Casperson
had told me about her daughter. “I think it might be Patrick Warren.
It hasn’t been that long ago that her mom Nola talked about them
being together. She didn’t like Jenny dating him, and I can see why
if he’s the type of guy who obviously didn’t care about Jenny’s
welfare.”
Lucas released a deep exhale. “That girl was in my car for less
than ten minutes. Another minute or two, and she would still be
alive.”
I silently cursed at the injustice of it all.
Lucas straightened in his seat. “Could one of you call Opal? I
forgot to ask Giuseppe, and I’m sure she’s wondering why she hasn’t
heard from me.”
Gideon nodded. “I will as soon as I leave.”
Lucas had given us some good information, but I had an inkling
that Corey knew more by now. I slipped my hand from Gideon’s and
stood. “I’m going to let you two have some time alone. I have a
friend who works here who might be able to shed more light on the
situation.”
Lucas glanced up at me. “Is that Sergeant Shelton?”
I stilled, wondering how he knew. “It is.”
A grin lifted one side of Lucas’s mouth. “We talked about you.”
I sensed Gideon stiffen beside me, but played off my uneasiness
with a chuckle. “Hopefully, it was all good.”
“It was.” He glanced at his uncle. “I’d say he likes Daisy a lot.”
I leaned down and kissed Gideon’s cheek before he could
respond. “I’ll wait for you in the lobby.”
With that I scurried out the door and down the short hallway. I
had no idea what he’d say to Lucas about Corey’s crush on me, and
I didn’t want to know, either.

OceanofPDF.com
 Seven

I didn’t leave the jail visitation area by the door that the public
used or wait for an escort, but instead, I headed for the hallway
hoping the person in charge of jail visits didn’t see me or out me
before I reached Corey’s office.
Once I entered the business area of the police department, I
strode down the hall, nodding at people as I passed, acting as if I
had every right to be there. Luckily, no one questioned me.
It took me a few minutes to navigate the maze and reach
Corey’s office since I usually came into the station from a different
direction. But I found it and was glad to see Corey sitting behind his
desk, focused on whatever was in front of him.
I knocked on the doorframe to get his attention and walked in
without waiting for an invitation. Without him prompting me, I
closed the door like I usually did when we discussed sensitive things,
and I claimed a chair opposite him.
He lifted his brows as though surprised to see me. “Finished
with your visit?”
Now that I was safely in his office, I tried to relax my stress-
stiffened muscles. “I am. Gideon’s still there. Thank you for allowing
us to see Lucas.”
Corey shrugged. “I would have done the same for others.”
He might say that, but I was sure he rarely personally escorted
family members to see their loved ones. “Either way, thank you.”
He leaned back in his chair and regarded me with a look that
gave away the fact that he was pleased to see me. “I’m sorry we
had to hold him longer. I hope you understand.”
I did, but it had been hard. “I think I would have accepted it
more easily if it was someone else’s family member. But knowing
there’s no way Lucas would have killed that girl, and then trying to
manage Gideon’s outrage, made it difficult.”
Corey dipped his head in acknowledgment. “Of course, you’d
both be upset, but I hope Gideon’s smart enough not to cause
trouble.”
I reassured him with a nod even though I didn’t quite believe it.
“You need to understand, too. Lucas might as well be Gideon’s son.
He raised him from a young age.”
Corey sighed. “That’s gotta be tough.”
My heart ached for them both. “It is, and that’s why I’m here to
plead for help. Is there anything new you can tell me? A direction
you can give me to look?”
He shook his head. “No, not right now.”
I folded my arms, certain that was not entirely true. “Can you
tell me who Jenny’s boyfriend was? Lucas said she’d told him they’d
had a fight.”
Corey tilted his head, hesitating.
I snorted at his reluctance. “I’m guessing it’s Patrick Warren, and
it’s not like I can’t ask anyone around town to confirm. Plus, Jenny’s
mom Nola is a regular customer of mine, so if you don’t tell me, I’m
sure she will. The only thing is that having to ask others will take me
more time.”
A hint of amusement sparkled in his eyes. “You’re persistent, if
nothing else.”
I gave him a reassuring nod. “That I am. So, you might as well
cooperate with me.”
He chuckled. “Maybe you should be the one questioning people
around here.”
He was beating around the bush, and I knew it. “Stop stalling,
and tell me already.”
Corey lifted his brows in warning. “Okay, but you didn’t hear this
from me.”
I shook my head. “Your name will not enter any conversations I
might have.”
“Yeah, I’ve been told Patrick Warren was her boyfriend.”
 An image of a slightly younger version of Patrick filtered into my
thoughts. He was a slender guy with wild dark red curls. If I recalled
correctly, he was a few years older than Jenny, too. Also, I was
pretty sure I’d heard someone say he’d won the state title for debate
in high school. “I know who he is, but I’ve never talked to him.
What’s he like?”
Corey hesitated for a moment as though gathering his thoughts.
“Junior attorney. He just joined the Miller and Shaw law firm. About
three months ago, I’d say. Top of his class in high school. Wouldn’t
surprise me if he’d excelled in college, too. Wealthy family. Parents
still married. One brother. Never been in any kind of trouble.”
I narrowed my gaze, though I was relieved that the police had
someone else to focus on besides Lucas. “Have you talked to him
yet? Did he say what he and Jenny were fighting about?”
Corey straightened in his chair. “Yeah, I briefly spoke with him
and his lawyer, but he denied being with Jenny. Said they’d broken
up some time ago. His lawyer advised him not to answer when I
asked for a specific date.”
I sucked in a suspicious breath. “Really? If that doesn’t seem
suspicious, I don’t know what does. Could you tell if he was lying?”
He shrugged. “Patrick seemed on the up and up, but in my line
of work, you learn to trust facts more than people. He refused to
provide a DNA sample without a warrant. But we’ll get one if we find
evidence on her.”
This was definitely an angle I could sink my teeth into. “Does he
have an alibi?”
Corey shook his head. “He was alone at his apartment.”
I scoffed. “Seems guilty to me.”
“Could be,” he countered. “But do you know any lawyers who
would allow you to give a sample without a warrant? I know I don’t.
Anyway, he said they’d broken up after she’d started ranting about
his mom.”
I lifted my brows. “His mom, huh? Why?”
“I asked him the same. He said Jenny and his mother had never
gotten along. Jenny was upset because his mom had called her,
unhappy that Jenny had shown up at the social club looking for
him.”
I narrowed my gaze. “I take it his mom didn’t approve of their
relationship.”
Corey chuckled. “I take it you’ve never met Whitney Warren.”
I couldn’t say that I had. “The name sounds familiar, but I can’t
place her.”
He nodded. “I’m not surprised. I don’t see her in town often.
She prefers to shop at the higher end stores in Salt Lake, and you
wouldn’t have seen her at the grocery store because her
housekeeper buys everything for her family. She runs the town’s
ladies club for skiing and golfing. Hosts a charity tournament at the
social club each year to benefit abused women.”
None of those were negative things, so I wondered what he
hadn’t said yet. “She sounds like a decent enough person, but I
know Jenny’s mom is your average white-collar worker. I’d wager
that Whitney thinks Jenny’s not good enough for her son?”
Corey lifted one shoulder and let it drop. “Patrick didn’t say that,
but it’s where my thoughts went first, too. Early days in the
investigation, though. Someone on my team will be interviewing
Whitney shortly.”
I gave him a thoughtful nod. “I guess that isn’t much to go on,
like you said, but at least it’s something.”
Corey scratched above his eyebrow as he studied me. “There is
one other avenue that’s popped up.”
I straightened in my seat, anxious for any tidbit. “Tell me. Any
information is good information.”
An awkward look crossed his face as he pressed his lips
together. “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but…is there
some sort of underground paranormal event going on? I don’t have
the same intuitive sense that you, my mom, and sister do. But I’m
pretty sure we have an unusual number of magical people in town.”
I drew my brows together. “I haven’t heard of anything, but I’ve
been wondering the same thing since yesterday. Lots of unusual
characters coming into Meowkins, too. I suppose I could ask Jocelyn
about it. If anyone would know, my coven’s high priestess would.”
 He exhaled, seeming relieved that I’d offered. “I’d appreciate
that. I don’t want to step on toes or insult anyone with my
assumptions that the murderer could be an outsider. But I’m sure
you want Lucas out as soon as possible. So, if that’s a direction we
should be investigating, it would be good to know.”
Corey might be reluctant to question those with enhanced
abilities, but I wasn’t. “Of course. I’ll call Jocelyn right away and let
you know.”
He grinned. “Thanks, Daisy. I’m glad I can count on you.”
I smiled, thinking the same, but I didn’t want to gush too much
for fear he’d take it as more than a friendly interest in him. Instead,
I stood, smiled, and headed for the door. “Talk soon.”

OceanofPDF.com
 Eight

I planted myself in a cushioned chair near the police station’s

front door to wait for Gideon to finish his visit with Lucas. As
promised, I called my coven’s high priestess Jocelyn to ask her
opinion on the town’s increased number of powerful visitors.
Unfortunately, I could only talk to a recorded version of her telling
me to leave a message. I left a brief, somewhat vague one and
asked her to call me.
I was still holding my phone, about to send Gideon a message
telling him where I was, when a tall, blond-haired young man with
red cheeks came through the front door and strode to the reception
window with an anxious look on his face. “Excuse me,” he said
loudly as though the dispatcher had no way to hear him through the
thick glass. “Can I talk to whoever is in charge of Jenny Casperson’s
murder?”
A jolt of interest shot through me, and I straightened in my seat.
Immediately, I focused all my senses in the newcomer’s direction.
The dispatcher informed him that Sergeant Shelton was
currently busy.
The guy shifted his stance. “Well, can I wait? It’s important.”
Behind the protective glass, the man’s expression changed to
one of interest, and he nodded. “What’s your name?”
“Brett Rogers. I worked with Jenny.”
The dispatcher gestured toward the waiting area. “Have a seat.
I’ll see if one of the other investigators is available to talk to you
now.”
Brett seemed relieved. “Thanks.”
He scrubbed the unshaved stubble on his chin and took a seat
near me. I quietly studied his profile hoping to sense more about
Another random document with
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a very little while before my unqualified disdain will bring them all
again to her matronly feet.”
“Myself among the number.”
“Oh, Mr. Brander, I didn’t count you.”
“But in mercy you must. I am rather grey behind the ears, and rather
lean about the jaws; but let me still think myself as eligible a bachelor
as the place boasts.”
He spoke playfully, but something, either in his tone or in the
knowledge she had of his life, touched her, and made her voice very
kind, as she answered—
“I did not mean that I thought you too old. I meant that I could not
think of classing you with a creature like Frederick Williams.”
“He would take that as a compliment.”
“I don’t think he would if he saw me look at him and then at you while
I said so.”
Mr. Brander pulled up his clerical collar, and affected to give his hat a
jaunty cock.
“It’s so long since I’ve been ‘buttered up,’ and it’s so nice,” said he.
“Why, you have a great following among the ladies of the village.”
“I am afraid I look upon them—though without so much reason—
much as you do upon their counterparts of the opposite sex.”
“And Mrs. Brander, doesn’t she, in return for your services at
marketing and nailing pictures, ‘butter you up’ too?”
The gaiety, which had sat so pleasantly on the usually grave man,
suddenly evaporated. He answered, very quietly—
“She calls me a good fellow, and—yes, I think she means it.”
They had slackened their steps a little as they drew near the bottom
of the hill where The Chequers hid the entrance to Rishton Hall
Farm. They had stopped altogether at the bottom to exchange these
last few sentences before saying farewell. As his last words were
succeeded by a moment’s pause, Mr. Brander glanced up the hill he
had to climb to the Vicarage, and became aware of his brother’s
portly figure descending the slope with measured steps toward them.
His cheeks grew pale; the last gleam of vivacity died out of his face.
The change caused Olivia to look in the same direction, and to note
that there was something judicial in the handsome vicar’s gait—
something mildly apprehensive in the expression of his face. She felt
an impulse of indignation against both husband and wife for their
inexplicably rigorous attitude towards Vernon Brander and herself. At
sight of his brother, Vernon, who seemed at once to grow cold and
formal, raised his hat, and would have left her with a few words of
farewell. But she held out her hand, and, as he took it with a flushing
face, she retained his with a warm clasp, while she said—
“I am going to get papa to waylay you, Mr. Brander, as you come
back from the Vicarage. You have never been inside the house since
the day you played fairy godmother to me and poor Lucy. I want you
to see the old house now we have made it again a home.”
“I shall be delighted, Miss Denison,” faltered poor Vernon, with one
ear for her kindly words and the other for his brother’s deliberately
approaching footsteps. “You are very kind to me,” he added, in a
hasty undertone. Then in his usual voice, “Good-night,” said he, as
she released his hand, and, with a bow to the vicar, turned to the
farmyard gate.
With a few steps on either side—dignified in the one, hurried and
nervous in the other—the brothers met. The elder passed his arm
affectionately within that of the younger, and turned to walk up the
hill with him.
“Evelyn began to be afraid you had forgotten us and our dinner in
pleasanter society than ours,” said Meredith, in his genial voice.
If Vernon, as his nervous manner suggested, was afraid of his
brother, the fault lay in his own conscience, and not in any coldness
or harshness on the part of the Vicar of Rishton.
“No,” said Vernon, hastily; “I had not forgotten. Of course not. Miss
Denison was annoyed by a rough as she was crossing the fields; I
came up just in time—by the merest accident—and I could do no
less than see her home.”
“Of course not. Not a very great penance either. What an extremely
pleasant-looking girl!”
It was characteristic of the vicar’s warm, expansive nature that he
found enjoyment in all goodly things; and he never attempted to hide
the pleasure the sight of a beautiful woman gave him, although, as in
the present instance, he remembered his cloth in the expression of
it.
“She is very handsome,” said Vernon, whose candor went a step
further than his brother’s.
“And amiable?”
“By that one means sympathetic to oneself, I suppose. Yes, I find her
amiable,” said the younger man, with a sort of dogged defiance in his
tone.
“Then you are pretty intimate already?”
The vicar spoke without the least harshness, but the answer came in
an almost sullen tone, as if Vernon’s own conscience were
reproaching him.
“Not very. This is the fourth time I have met her.”
“But, dear me, with these sweet-faced girls, one gets over the
ground so fast!” suggested the elder more genially than ever.
“That depends. There’s not much about me to fascinate a beautiful
woman.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean that: I certainly did not mean that. But we had
looked upon you—you had taught us to look upon you—as a
confirmed bachelor; almost a misogynist.”
“No, not that,” interrupted the younger, abruptly. “I have always
admired women; in my way, at least, as much as you have in yours
—unluckily for me,” he added in a bitter, mocking tone.
“And now your admiration is to take shape in a definite preference
for one?” said the vicar, rather diffidently.
Vernon was restless and uneasy; he snapped twigs off the hedge as
he walked along, and seemed unable to look his brother in the face.
“What does my preference matter?” he asked, at last, almost fiercely.
“What did it matter before, except to bring upon me the shame and
shadow of my whole life?”
His brother looked shocked and alarmed at this outburst. He put his
arm, which Vernon had thrown off, again most persuasively through
that of the younger man.
“Come, come,” he said, very earnestly, very affectionately; “you must
not talk like that. You lead a life—voluntarily, mind, else there would
be no grandeur, no dignity, in it—so full of austerity and self-sacrifice
that you are winning yourself almost the reputation of a saint. You
have shown an example of courage and endurance such as few men
would have the steadfastness to follow—not I, for one, I admit. You
are loved by your parishioners. And it is scarcely too much to say
that by your own family—Evelyn, myself, and the little ones—you are
adored.”
The Vicar of Rishton watched his brother’s face closely as he
pronounced these words in full tones of deep feeling. They took
effect at once. The thin, sensitive face relaxed, and a faint smile
hovered on Vernon’s lips as he answered—
“You are all very good to me, and I love you for it; but you don’t need
to be told that now. As for all that about my being a saint and a
martyr, it is nonsense, and only a kind way of putting the fact that ten
years ago——”
“Now why trouble yourself about what happened ten years ago?”
interrupted the vicar in grave but most gentle tones. “The evil
wrought then has been bitterly repented of, and atoned for in a
manner so noble that I can scarcely speak of it without tears.”
“Noble? Nonsense! There was nothing in what I have done but the
outcome of a most commonplace human feeling. I don’t wish to
deceive you about that, or get more credit than is due to me.”
“Well, I will say no more on the point. It is not for me to contradict
you. For, whatever may have been our relative positions ten years
ago, your life since then has made you a better man than I, and I
bow to you as to my superior.”
It was very gracefully said, with a warmth and sincerity of tone which
made it no empty compliment from the handsome, much-revered
vicar to the hermit-parson of ruinous St. Cuthbert’s. The latter
received it with a restive, deprecatory, impatient wave of the hand;
but yet a keen observer, who had looked from the one face to the
other at that moment, would almost have been inclined to say that
the elder, whether or not he quite meant what he said, had spoken
the truth, and that the worn features and keen grey eyes of the
younger man revealed higher capacities for good than the bland,
benevolent, and good-humored countenance of his brother. Ten
years ago, before the tragic event which had been the turning point
of Vernon’s life, the reverse of this would have been true.
Passionate, reckless, and hot tempered, he would have looked,
beside his open-faced brother, like the evil angel beside the good.
But a decade of unruffled prosperity on the one hand, and the same
period of austere self-sacrifice on the other, had told their tale; and
the man over whom there hung the shadow of a fearful crime now
threatened, by long humility and devotion, to oust from the first place
in the esteem of the rough mining population the irreproachable and
kindly Vicar of Rishton himself.
Meredith had spoken the last words in a decisive tone, as if he
considered the discussion at an end. But from the expression of his
brother’s face, it was clear that he had yet something to say—
something of more import than anything that had yet passed
between them.
“You have tried me long enough to trust my discretion a little,
Meredith; but I don’t know how you will take what I am going to tell
you.” He hurried on in an agitated voice, without looking his brother
in the face. “I have never been a misogynist; perhaps I shall not
always be a bachelor. Mind, I only say perhaps.”
There was a long pause. They tramped up the hill side by side
without exchanging so much as a look, until the pretty gables of the
Vicarage were in sight, peeping out behind the massive evergreens
and the yet bare lilac branches of the vicar’s garden. Then Meredith
spoke, in the most subdued and gentlest of voices—
“You are the best, indeed, the only possible judge of your own
conduct, Vernon; but I fear that, to a nature like yours, the thought of
having caused suffering to a woman you love will some day be very
bitter.”
His voice seemed to fade away on the last words, as it did at the
pathetic points of his sermons. His eloquence again took effect on
the sensitive Vernon.
“My wife—if, indeed, I ever had a wife—should never know the
truth,” said he, in a low and husky voice.
“Oh, but she will!” said Meredith, with energy. “Do not deceive
yourself on that point; you cannot deceive me. No one can prevent
your marrying; I, for one, shall never utter another word against such
a step; but, if you do take it, your ten years’ silence, as far as the
feelings of others are concerned, will have been in vain.”
There was another pause—a short one, this time. Then Vernon
spoke, in a harsh and broken voice—
“Be satisfied. No woman shall ever suffer through me—again. I will
bear it to the end—alone.”
“Spoken bravely—spoken like yourself,” began the vicar of Rishton,
in his usual firm and cheerful tones. He was about to say more,
when his speech was checked by the sight of a man’s face peering
over the wall of a small, neglected garden, which adjoined the vicar’s
own premises on a lower level of the hill.
The face was that of a stranger, but of a stranger who apparently
took a deep interest in his surroundings. Meredith Brander examined
his features with frank and rather puzzled interest, while Vernon
scanned the face with an intentness which almost savored of dread.
The stranger, on his side, gave them a nod of free-and-easy
greeting, which they returned by a more conventional salute, as they
proceeded up the hill.
“Who is that man?” asked Meredith, as if trying to recall some
memory connected with the features he had just seen.
“I don’t know,” answered the brother, in a troubled voice. His brother
looked inquiringly.
“Have you seen him before? I can’t quite make up my mind whether
he is a stranger to me or not.”
“He is a stranger,” said Vernon; “probably the man who has taken the
cottage. I heard this morning that it was let at last.”
“You don’t know his name then?”
“Mat Oldshaw, who told me, did not mention his name.”
No more was said on the subject of the stranger by either of the
brothers, both of whom remained apparently in deep thought for the
few remaining steps of their walk.
The gravity of both faces lightened when, on reaching the Vicarage,
the sounds of childish voices broke upon their ears. Mrs. Meredith
Brander prided herself on nothing so much as on being a “sensible
woman;” and, as there is no sign of want of sense in a woman so
marked as the spoiling of children, the event went a little way in the
opposite direction, and kept her little daughter of ten and small son
of six in somewhat rigorous subjection. Not only did she honor the
old-fashioned saying that “children should be seen and not heard,”
but she even went so far as to think that the less seen of them the
better. Her husband, who was an affectionate and even
demonstrative father, would have had them much more about the
house; but he yielded in all domestic matters implicitly to his wife’s
ruling, and, as she had decreed that the proper place for children
was the nursery, in the nursery they for the most part remained.
Therefore, the children had come back in a cab with the luggage,
instead of with papa and mamma, in the pony carriage, and they
were on their way up the stairs towards their own domain when their
father and uncle came in and caught them.
Vernon Brander’s haggard face lighted up with an expression of
deep tenderness as the little girl turned on hearing the gentlemen’s
footsteps, and, with a shrill cry of childish delight, ran down a few
steps, and flung her little arms tempestuously round his neck.
“Uncle Vernie! Uncle Vernie!” she cooed breathlessly into his ear.
“Oh, I have such a lot to tell you, and I’ve such a heap of shells for
you, and some seaweed for you to dry; and, oh! I have so wanted to
see you, and have you with us there by the sea. It would have been
lovely if only you’d been there!”
“Come, come, you carneying, blarneying, little sixpenn’orth of
halfpence,” said Uncle Vernon, seating himself on the stairs and
putting his arm affectionately around her little waist, “don’t pretend it
wasn’t lovely without me, or that you’re glad the holiday’s over so
that you can see your old uncle again.”
“But I am though, whether you believe it or not,” said the child,
gravely, looking into the wrinkles of the clergyman’s face with
affectionate solicitude. “The sea was beautiful, and it was nice to
have no lessons, and to see the pretty people, and to have new
walks instead of the old ones we’re so tired of. But there was no one
to tell what one thought, no one to look at me like you look, Uncle
Vernie—no one to hug like this.”
And, suiting the action to the word, she crushed up his head and
face in a stifling embrace.
At that moment the drawing-room door opened, and Mrs. Brander,
handsome, erect, and neat as a statue, came upon the scene.
“Kate, you are forgetting yourself, my dear,” she said, in a tone of
gentle but decided reproof. “Your uncle does not mind a kiss, but a
bear’s hug is neither lady-like nor welcome.”
The child withdrew her arms at once, and relapsed into the unnatural
demeanor of a sensitive child snubbed. Vernon grew red, and
passed his hand over the little girl’s fair head with more than paternal
tenderness.
“Don’t be hard upon the child, Evelyn,” he said in a low voice. “You
who have children of your own don’t know what pleasure that ‘bear’s
hug’ can give to a childless man.”
Meredith Brander, who had been playing with his little boy, looked
uneasily towards his brother at this speech.
“What a fuss you make about that child!” said Mrs. Brander, lightly,
as if anxious to turn the conversation.
And, coming to the staircase, she picked up the little girl’s hat, which
had fallen off in the course of her excited greetings, and telling her to
run upstairs and get her face washed, Mrs. Brander invited her
brother-in-law, with a welcoming gesture, to come with her into the
drawing-room.
Vernon followed her with scarcely disguised reluctance, which the
lady did not fail to perceive.
“What is the matter with you, Vernon?” she asked, as she seated
herself by an open work-basket, and immediately began operations
upon an embroidered pinafore. “There is a change in you since we
went away; you have either grown less sociable, or else you have
found some society more congenial than ours. Sit down; that pacing
to and fro fidgets me.”
Vernon stopped in front of her, but did not seat himself.
“Do you know,” he began, abruptly, “that I have gone through a
lengthy catechism of this sort at the hands of your husband? I have
given the fullest answers to all his questions, and he can pass on to
you any information you may require.”
In spite of the peremptoriness of his words, his tone was almost
pleading; and in his face, as he looked down upon her, there was an
expression of chivalrous kindliness which took all harshness out of
his speech.
Mrs. Brander, glancing up at him, drew a breath of relief.
“I was almost beginning to fear, Vernon, that you had formed, or
were on the point of forming, new ties which would make you forget
the old ones.”
Mrs. Brander’s voice was not capable of expressing much deep
emotion; but she lowered it, as she said these words, to the softest
pitch it could reach.
“Forget!” he echoed. “That is a process my mind is incapable of. I
think you know that, Evelyn.”
She gave him a straightforwardly, affectionate look out of her
handsome eyes.
“Perhaps I do, Vernon,” she said, gently. “Perhaps I think your mind
incapable of any process by which you could bring suffering upon
another person.”
Vernon looked down into her beautiful face critically. There was
genuine anxiety in her expression, but it did not touch him as much
as a similar expression on those comely features had been wont to
do. For the last few weeks he had been haunted by another
woman’s face, one which betrayed most ingenuously every thought
of the owner’s mind, every impulse of a warm young heart. Mrs.
Brander was intelligent enough to have an idea of the truth; and
when she saw that her soft speech left him comparatively cold, she
did not waste another on him, but rose from her seat with a sigh, and
bent over her table in such a way that he could not see her face. The
sensitive Vernon instantly began to imagine tears in her eyes, drawn
forth by his own hardness. He was seeking words to comfort her
when the door opened, and Meredith came in. His genial presence
seemed on the instant to relieve the embarrassment of the other two.
“It seems to me, my dear,” he began to his wife, “that Kitty is not
looking any the better for her stay at Bournemouth. I went upstairs
with the children just now, and I was quite struck with the paleness of
the child’s cheeks.”
As the vicar uttered these words, a change came rapidly over his
brother’s face. He glanced from father to mother with an expression
of the deepest anxiety, which Mrs. Brander, while answering her
husband in calm and measured tones, did not fail to note.
“I think you worry yourself unnecessarily about the child. She’s tired
now after her journey; she will probably look all right again to-
morrow.”
The vicar allowed himself to be pacified by his wife’s assurances,
and, leading his brother away to the fireplace, they occupied
themselves, until the announcement of dinner, in discussing the
trifling events which had happened in the parish during the vicar’s
absence. Mrs. Brander listened with an especially attentive ear while
her brother-in-law gave a somewhat detailed account of the arrival of
the new occupants of Rishton Hall Farm, including, as it necessarily
did, the story of his own assistance at their installation.
Mrs. Brander did not attempt to deceive herself as to the strong
measure of interest which the beautiful young farmer’s daughter had
excited in Vernon. Neither did she disguise from herself the anxiety
and annoyance which this discovery caused her. Instead, however,
of indulging in any feelings of feminine jealousy, she set herself to try
to devise a way of ousting this rival. A ray of light broke suddenly
over her handsome face.
“When I spoke of my own suffering, he was certainly not so much
touched as he used to be,” she reflected. “On the other hand,
anything connected with Kitty seems to move him more than ever. I
must play Kitty against this Miss Denison.”
And, without any of the pangs of a jealous woman, Mrs. Brander,
with a glance at her innocent brother-in-law, made a calm resolution
as to the part she should play in what she perceived to be an
incipient love affair.
 CHAPTER XII.
Vernon Brander left his brother’s house that evening in a frenzy of
doubt and uncertainty, such as his passionate, self-torturing nature
was liable to. He had so long been bound in a dutiful and chivalrous
vassalage to his sister-in-law, seeing her faults without being
repelled by them, and in all things doing her reverent homage as to
his early ideal, that it came upon him with a shock to discover
suddenly, as he had done this evening, that she had fallen from that
high place in her imagination. He tried in vain to hide from himself
the fact that this change in his feelings was due to the appearance
on the scene of a rival who was carrying away all before her. Mrs.
Brander had, on previous occasions, scoffed at his adoration of
children; she had often shown clearly how little she cared for his
feelings; but never before to-night had she seemed to him cold, and
hard, and selfish; never before had it occurred to him to think how
lacking she was in feminine softness and charm.
Following on this discovery came the inevitable consciousness who
it was that had brought about this knowledge. If he had not looked
lately into a softer pair of eyes, if he had not felt the touch of a
warmer hand, if, in short, he had never met Olivia Denison, he would
have gone on comfortably in his platonic worship of the only woman
of his acquaintance who had any of those elements of beauty and
grace which were necessary to his somewhat fastidious standard.
But the advent of the beautiful, warm-hearted, impulsive young girl
had changed all that; and Vernon, as he remembered the promises
he had made to his brother and his brother’s wife, and recognized
clearly enough that by the circumstances of his life he was bound to
remain in bachelor loneliness, felt that the burden of a bygone sin
was heavier upon him than he could bear.
He was going gloomily down the hill, and had nearly reached the foot
of it, when a rather rough voice, with an inflection which was un-
English and strange, addressed him quite close to his ear.
“Could you oblige me with a light?”
Vernon, who had his pipe between his lips, stopped, and offered the
stranger his matchbox. The night was dark, but he was able to
recognize in this abrupt-mannered person the man he and Meredith
had seen that evening leaning on the garden wall of the cottage
adjoining the Vicarage. There had been something suspicious about
the stranger’s manner then; there was something more now. He took
the proffered matchbox, struck a light, and, instead of applying it to
the cigar he had ready in his mouth, held it close enough to Vernon’s
face to get a good view of every feature.
The clergyman, returning his gaze, grew deadly pale. He did not
flinch, however, but settling his face with the hard determination of a
man accustomed to bear pain, submitted to the scrutiny in dogged
silence.
“Thank you,” said the stranger slowly, as he threw away the match,
which had burnt down, and struck another, with which he proceeded
to light his cigar. “You are the first person about here who has shown
what in other parts we should call common civility. A rough lot, these
Yorkshiremen!”
“And they don’t always improve much in manners by going abroad,”
said Vernon, quietly.
The other remained silent for a moment, peering at him in the
darkness. Then he spoke again, more courteously than before.
“You take me for a Yorkshireman, then?”
“Yes; I can hear the Yorkshire burr through some accent you have
picked up since.”
“Well, you’re a smart chap for a parson,” said the other, approvingly.
“You’ll excuse my frankness; but I’m a plain man, and I dare say my
manners are none the more polished for fifteen years spent among
cattle-drovers. They’re not the sort of company to make one fit for
Buckingham Palace.”
“I suppose not,” said Vernon. “And you have said good-bye to them,
and come back to settle down in your native county?”
“For a little while—a year, or maybe two,” answered the stranger with
great deliberateness. “I haven’t come over here to sit still and twiddle
my thumbs for the rest of my life.”
“Why, there’s plenty of work to be done here in the old country.”
“Yes, it’s work brings me over here, and hard work too, by what I
hear,” said the other, looking penetratingly at the clergyman through
shrewd, half-shut eyes.
He gave the impression of being able to see in the dark as well as
any owl, and Vernon felt that he himself was still being subjected to
the same keen inspection which had been begun by the light of the
match. He, on his side, could see enough of the stranger’s
appearance to feel curiously interested in him. This abrupt and
somewhat uncouth person was a man whose age was difficult to
guess. That he was still in the vigor and prime of life was evident, but
it was not so certain whether the rugged furrows in his face, and a
certain deliberateness of speech and action, were signs of
approaching middle age, or the result of heavy responsibilities and
hard work begun early in life. The lower part of his face was covered
and much concealed by a short beard of a fashion long grown
obsolete in England; he was dressed with that sort of solid
respectability which disregards expense and also the fashion of the
moment, while a huge gold watch chain, to which was attached a
bunch of heavy and handsome seals, gave the final touch to a get-
up which was nothing if not confidence-inspiring. The man looked
both shrewd and honest, particularly the former; Vernon felt every
moment more and more eagerly interested as to the reason of his
presence in the village.
“You know that we parsons are privileged impertinents?” began
Vernon, after a short pause.
“Yes,” answered the stranger promptly.
“Perhaps you know too that I have been until to-day ‘deputy
shepherd’ here at Rishton?”
“I know that too,” admitted the other.
“Then perhaps you will let me ask if you are the new tenant of
Church Cottage?”
“Well, there’s nothing gained or lost by admitting that I am; and
further, I don’t mind telling you that I’d as soon the cottage were a
little further off the church. One can’t expect to live in the odor of
sanctity for nothing, and with a parson living next door, and religious
consolation therefore always turned on, I shall feel, so to speak,
always under the tap.”
“You needn’t be afraid of that with my brother,” said Vernon, smiling.
“I suppose there never was a man with less professional cant about
him. He’ll talk to a neighbor about his fruit trees, his pigs, his poultry,
and everything that is his, but never a word of religion, unless the
subject is introduced by somebody else.”
“I see; won’t give professional advice for nothing? Well, I respect him
for it; there’s no good in making your wares too cheap. Guess your
brother and me’ll get along.”
What could the work be which brought this keen-eyed, prosperous-
looking colonist—for a colonist it was not difficult to guess that he
must be—to a sleepy little hole like Rishton, where the commerce
was restricted to the weekly buying and selling in Matherham
market, and to the still humbler traffic in the small wares of half a
dozen puny village shops? Vernon was shy of asking him point-blank
the nature of his work; indeed, something in the stranger’s manner
intimated pretty plainly that he would not have given the required
information. And no hints sufficed to draw him out. The vicar of St.
Cuthbert’s made one such attempt, which failed most signally.
“You will find also,” said he, “that my brother is a practical man, and
any help that he can give you in the work you speak of he will offer
most willingly, I know.”
But to this speech the first reply of the colonist was a sardonic laugh.
“I daresay he will,” said he, drily, when his hard merriment had
suddenly ceased. “For the matter of that, a man with a serious object
before him, who has his head screwed on the right way, can get help
of some sort from everybody he comes nigh to. And so, Mr. Brander,
I make no doubt I shall get assistance in my work, not only from your
brother, but from yourself.”
And with these words, uttered in a tone of some significance, he
turned on his heel with an abrupt nod, and made his way with
characteristically heavy and deliberate steps towards the gate of the
cottage.
Vernon Brander watched the solidly-built figure disappearing in the
dusk, and then proceeded on his way down the hill in some agitation
of spirit. The shadow of the old crime was creeping up again; the
tragedy which ten years had not lived down was reappearing with a
new and ghastly vividness in the presence of that matter-of-fact
stranger. Who he might be Vernon could scarcely guess; what the
nature of his work was in a quiet village flashed upon him with an
intuition which left no room for doubt. The feelings produced by this
thought were not all gloomy; a certain hungry look, which betokened
perhaps that even open shame would be welcome after ten years of
silent ignominy, burned in the clergyman’s dark eyes as he lifted his
head and gazed into the blue-black night sky above him with a
piercing intentness which seemed to be trying to fathom the
mysteries of the future.
On reaching the bottom of the hill, he was startled out of his reverie
by a bright girl’s voice and a gentle touch on his arm. He stopped
short and lowered his head dreamily, almost inclined to think, in the
high state of excitement to which he had been worked, that the
sweet voice, the kindly touch, were a prophecy of happiness rather
than the commonplace incident of an every-day greeting. The next
moment, however, he came fully to himself, and found that he was in
the presence, not only of Olivia Denison, but of her father.
“Mr. Brander, come down from the clouds if you please, and leave
your next Sunday’s sermon to take care of itself for a little while. I
want to introduce you to my father.”
Mr. Denison, a tall, strikingly handsome man of about fifty years of
age, with a gentle, kindly face entirely destitute of any trace of his
daughter’s energy and impulsive frankness, held out his hand with a
very willing smile.
“I am very happy to make your acquaintance, Mr. Brander, and to be
able to thank you for your great kindness to my little daughter here.”
He patted Olivia’s shoulder affectionately, but it seemed to the
clergyman, as he looked from the one face to the other, that the
action was scarcely typical of the mutual relations between gentle,
vacillating father and quick-witted, active daughter.
“Miss Denison is so much more valiant and self-helpful than most
young ladies that she spurs one up to do more for her than one
would for others,” said Vernon.
“Yet this afternoon you would not allow that I could help papa,” put in
Olivia, reproachfully.
“Didn’t I rather suggest that the help you really gave was of a
different kind from what you imagined?”
“She gives me help of all kinds,” said her father affectionately.
“She’s my clerk and my comforter; and I think if the farm-hands
struck work, she’d take to the plough as naturally as she’s taken to
the poultry.”
“Well, I’d certainly try my hand at it,” said the girl laughing. “I
suppose the chief qualifications are a steady hand and a correct eye,
and both those I’ve acquired at billiards.”
“My dear Olivia, you mustn’t own to playing billiards before a
clergyman!”
“And why not, Mr. Denison?” asked Vernon. “I love a good game of
billiards myself; and the strongest reasons that keep me out of old
Williams’s billiard-room up at the Manor Hall are old Williams’
inability to play a decent game, and his son’s inability to make a
decent remark.”
Olivia gave an exclamation of disgust at this passing allusion to her
importunate admirer: Mr. Denison seemed relieved by the
clergyman’s admission.
“I’ve not come much in contact with gentlemen of your calling,” said
he; “and I have rather a feeling that I must be on my best behavior
before them.”
“A very proper feeling, and one that I wish you could communicate to
some of the gentlemen engaged in mining occupations among my
parishioners. It’s a much healthier symptom than throwing bricks.”
“Do they throw bricks at you?” asked Olivia, indignantly.
“Not so many as they used to do,” said Vernon, with a twinkle in his
eye, which was, however, not discernible in the increasing darkness.
“I found a way to cure them of that.”
“What was that?”
“I threw them back.”
Mr. Denison did not attempt to disguise the fact that his respect for
and appreciation of the Church were rising rapidly. It was with a
cordiality very different from the formal gratitude he had shown at the
outset that he presently begged the clergyman to do himself and his
wife the pleasure of lunching with them on the following or an early
day.
“I am very anxious to introduce you to my wife,” said he. “She used
to try hard to get me to receive what I irreverently called her ‘pet
parsons;’ but I had heard them preach, and that was enough for me.
Now you see I can bring forward a candidate of my own.”
“That’s unfortunate, because I can’t come to-morrow; and next day is
Sunday. And perhaps, if you hear me preach, you may want to
retract your invitation.”
“Well, we must chance that,” said Mr. Denison, smiling. “But I can
trust a par—no, I mean a clergyman, who knows something about
the tables of slate as well as the tables of stone. Remember, we are
only poor farmer folk now; the glory of Streatham has departed. But
we shall make you heartily welcome; and you must forgive the
absence of champagne. Now, what day will you come?”
“May I say this day week?” said Vernon, after considering a moment.
“For the next few days I have work to do a long way off which will
make any sort of meal an impossibility. I shall live upon bread and
coaldust; and you must not be surprised if I turn up with a
complexion of Othello, and with a little of his savagery, after a week’s
intercourse with the blackest and roughest race in Yorkshire.”
The following Friday was, therefore, fixed upon as the day on which
the Rev. Vernon Brander was to make formal acquaintance with
Rishton Hall Farm and its new masters. And, with a mutual liking
which opened a pleasant prospect of future acquaintance, the two
gentlemen bade each other good-night, and separated.
But, if they had only known it, there was a very strong woman’s will
working against any such happy consummation. Mrs. Meredith
Brander, for reasons of her own, had conceived the intention of
doing what she could to form an impassable bridge between her
brother-in-law and the household at Rishton Hall Farm. She
shrewdly guessed that her best chance lay through the step-mother;
but for a day or two she took no active steps, contenting herself with
gleaning all the information she could concerning the character and
habits of each member of the Denison family. Mr. Denison, she
decided, was not of much account; Mrs. Denison, a vain, half-
educated woman, exalted above her natural station, ought, with
judicious treatment, to be easy to deal with. It was with the
handsome, high-spirited Olivia herself that the difficulty lay, and Mrs.
Brander felt that she must proceed with caution.
In the meantime, the new inmate of the cottage was exciting much
general interest, and some suspicion. He lived entirely by himself,
but for such companionship as was afforded him by Mrs. Wall, during
the two or three hours a day when she jogged slowly through his
apartments with a broom and a pail, and generally “did for” him. He
drove such a hard bargain with this lady, and lived so simply, that the
belief soon spread among the villagers that he was very poor, that
his big watch chain was brass, and that his solid manner and
imperative speech were mere empty “swagger.”
The Reverend Meredith Brander was shrewd enough to think
differently. There was a weight and solidity about the speech and
manner of the new comer which it is not given to the mere waifs and
strays of the earth to acquire. When he passed an opinion, which
was seldom, for he was apparently of reticent disposition, it was with
the evident belief, not only that it was worth listening to, but that it
would be listened to. The vicar tried hard, in every decent and
graceful way, to win from him some information as to who he was
and what he did there; but his geniality and his personal charm had
no perceptible effect on the stranger, who kept even his name a
secret, and steadily declined Mr. Brander’s invitations to him to dine
at the Vicarage, or to play a game of chess with him in the evenings.
“I’m sure you must find it dull alone in the cottage at night,” the vicar
would say to him cheerily; “for one can see with half an eye that
you’ve been used to an active life, with lots of movement and all
sorts of society. Why don’t you let yourself be persuaded into sitting
by a warm hearth instead of a cold one, with a woman and children
about you? All globe-trotters love the atmosphere of women and
children.”
“I can bear with ’em, but I’m not excited about either species,” the
stranger answered one day to his neighbor’s persuasions. “I’ve had
a wife and children myself; but I’m bound to say I get on quite as
comfortably without them.”
If this unorthodox speech was meant to shock the vicar, it failed of its
effect; for Meredith Brander had no Puritanical horror of human
frailties and eccentricities, but a cheery belief that they gave a
healthy outlet to the dangerous humors of the world.
He discussed the new comer with his wife, who, however, took
scarcely enough interest in the subject to set her feminine wits to
work towards solving the mystery which hung about him.
“I don’t know why you make so much fuss about him,” she said
rather contemptuously one day, when her husband had been
recounting his fruitless efforts to induce the stranger to dine with
them. “And I am sure I am thankful that he had the sense not to
come. To judge by his manners he has been a navvy, who went
gold-digging and picked up a nugget; and to judge by his coming
here and the way he lives, the nugget was somebody else’s, and he
has to live perdu until the little affair has blown over.”