8. Chapter 8
My hair was still wet from the hour-long shower I took to burn off the urine, cop questions, and memories away. I was pretty sure the only thing it helped with was the pee.
“Did you know Mr. Hightower?”
“Were you having an affair with him?”
“Did you know what he planned to do?”
To the point the wife stepped in and defended me.
He’d just sold his company and decided to prioritize his family, traveling in an RV to show his daughter the experiences of the world.
He didn’t want to lose his daughter’s precious childhood sitting at a desk.
He was the happiest he’d been in years. They weren’t even from here, just passing through, and he knew his wife would be home in minutes.
He’d even set the fake wood table with plates and plastic ware so they could still pretend to be civilized. That detail made his wife smile for a brief second before another round of sobs took over her again.
This wasn’t the behavior of a man preparing to kill himself.
He had everything in front of him. Depression came in all colors, but this didn’t track.
I needed to eat. Chills kept rolling over me, making me tremble. But when I scanned this downtown strip of restaurants the thought of eating made my stomach turn sour. I’d failed that man, and he’d never eat his lunch.
A small mom-and-pop diner came up beside me that wasn’t too full from the dinner rush, but had enough people sitting and eating it probably wouldn’t kill me.
My bright blue eyes were tired in the reflection of the window. My red curly hair was in a lazy bun on top of my head, and there was a frown plastered on my face.
I let out a steadying breath and forced a smirk into place. That way I could pretend I felt like myself.
A small movement behind me in the glass grabbed my attention. The shadow of a man stood over my shoulder. His head down as if he was going to kiss my shoulder.
I whirled around, but found the space behind me empty. My eyes scanned the street, looking for where he went off to.
I shivered as a gust of cold air blew across me. The feeling of eyes searing into me rolled over me like it had yesterday. I found a guy leaning against his car a few feet away, smiling at me.
The invisible gaze narrowed on the side of my face, as if daring me to give that man any attention. My heart pounded in my chest. Fingers on my chin dragged me to focus on him, even though there was nothing there.
But I could feel him.
A sick flutter tickled low in my stomach. Had my husband ever looked at me so hard I could sense him? No. Not once. My face grew hot.
Wait.
I shook the traitorous thought out of my head.
I didn’t comply with the demands of monsters. I killed them.
On principle, I should have walked up to the man, just to prove a point. I moved a foot to do just that, but shame sent my heart into overdrive. Like my aunt was watching me put my hand in the cookie jar after she told me, twice, no.
The kind of feeling that made me halt in my tracks to think twice about my actions. I wasn’t sure what he wanted from me or even what he was.
Best not to play chicken with a force that I knew could squash me.
So instead, I opened the door for the diner, picked a booth, and sat down. The small space felt too narrow, like there wasn’t enough room. Until I scooted all the way against the wall. Maybe I should have chosen a table. It felt like I was trapped.
Nothing on the menu sitting on the worn table, popped out as special or delicious enough to try forcing something down my gullet.
“What can I get for you, miss?” A kind older waitress with a name tag that said Myrtle smiled at me.
But that wasn’t what I focused on, it was her eyes.
The sky blue that bordered on inhuman yet still drew people in. The same ones I’d seen in my reflection. The same ones every Rinah witch was born with.
I hummed to myself considering whether to make myself known or not. It was possible she just happened to have blue eyes.
It happened.
Yet it had that captivating edge, a lure that called to the darkness.
But a Rinah witch would have recognition in her eyes. This woman was looking at me like I was just another customer.
“Just coffee. Please,” I finally answered.
She walked away, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I sighed, turning my phone back on, knowing Willow would be looking for me soon, if she wasn’t already.
I tapped my fingers on the table to the rhythm of the song playing softly on the speaker system. Cool air poured over my side.
Damn it. I would choose the seat under a vent.
My eyes went up to confirm my assumption only to find an overhead light. My fingers froze, and black scorch marks burned into the wood as the rhythm continued beside me. The light flickered for one quick moment that I could pretend didn’t even happen.
What did he want from me?
Myrtle came back, putting coffee and a generous amount of cream in front of me. “Are you ready to order dinner?”
I pushed the menu over to her. “I’m okay with this. Thank you.”
“Dear, I don’t want to overstep, but you look like you could use a good meal.” Her eyes were so genuine and kind I couldn’t scrounge up enough umph to be offended.
“I’m sure I do.” I ran my finger along the rim of my mug. “This will keep my sugar from completely crashing.”
Her mouth twisted with disapproval. She put up a finger and walked away. The next thing I knew she put a plate in front of me with a sandwich and fries on it. Then she sat across from me.
“Try that.” Her smile grew.
“You’re like a pushy grandma.” I rolled my eyes at her.
“I am a pushy grandma, dear.”
I chuckled and tossed a fry in my mouth. “If you’re going to make me eat, it’s gonna cost you.”
That made her laugh. “How much?”
“Information. I’m writing a book, and I’m gathering local lore.”
“Dudleytown,” she answered knowingly.
“You’ve done this before,” I teased.
“You don’t intend to go there do you?” Her eyes landed on the scorch marks on the table knowingly.
I clicked my tongue like the idea was inconceivable and casually moved my plate to cover the obvious burn marks. “Of course not.”
“Right.” The word dragged, but I knew she didn’t believe me in the slightest.
“One answer equals one bite of food.”
“You drive a hard bargain.” She smiled.
I put my hand out to shake on it, and she put her soft wrinkly hand in mine. Then I made a show of eating another fry. “What’s there?”
“Some ruins of a settlement.” She shrugged. “A little bad blood and misfortune. Like everywhere else.”
“Fair enough.” Some places were tainted more than others though. “But what’s the story that’s whispered to the children every night to warn them.”
She chuckled at my assessment. “Once upon a time, in England, A Dudley betrayed a king.”
“Shame on him.”
“He was punished for treason, but his family fled here and bought the land.” She hesitated. “Furious, the king hired a witch to curse the entire family.”
“The king of England hired a witch.” I lifted an eyebrow. “During the height of the Church of England?”
Wouldn’t be the first king to hide his true beliefs, but it didn’t sit right with me. Especially since I knew the kings of that time weren’t fans of my family.
I took a bite of the sandwich and chewed slowly as I considered it. Perhaps that bad blood was deeper than I knew. It wouldn’t be unlike my family to burn royalty. “Did the witch have a name?”
The Rinah family didn’t come into existence or power until the Ruin of Roanoke, so we didn’t have many strings in Europe. But we’d had our share of witches that went back to the old world to stick their fingers in a king or two's tea.
She shook her head.
Boo.
I took a giant bite of sandwich while I considered what to ask next. “Most villages or cities have methods of keeping their monsters at bay. Anything like that? It’s usually hidden in a nursery rhyme or children’s song.”
That was usually one of the best ways to find the cracks in a monster’s immortality. The locals survived these things for generations. They were always the best equipped to expose weaknesses even if they didn’t fully understand the meaning of their traditions anymore.
“My grandma always said to never go into the Dark Entry Woods, because it’s an entrance not an exit.” She shrugged. “She lived on the outskirts.”
“Perfect.” That’s exactly what I was looking for. “Did grandma do anything you thought was weird, but she was weirdly anal about doing?”
She made a face like I surprised her, then laughed. “You know. She put bundles of dandelions outside the forest.”
Dandelions?
Fingers caressed my cheek, making his words echo in my mind. You are a lovely Dandelion.
This was the information that mattered. “Did she say why?”
She shook her head. “Her mother would make her take them every day whenever they were in bloom, and because of it the curse never affected them.”
“So she used it as a ward?”
“No. It was a gift for favor.” She shook her head, smacking it. “I must be remembering wrong. You can’t get favor from a curse. That doesn’t make sense.”
Unless it wasn’t a curse at all.
Cold air ran over me again, but I knew it wasn’t just me because Myrtle ran her hands over her arms to warm herself up.
Nothing fit the situation right. I was going to have to do my research on this one. “Do you believe something lives out there?”
“I know they do.” She nodded. “I hear them whisper when I leave the dandelions.”
I paused as her words sank in. “You inherited your grandmother’s house?”
She smiled. “I still leave dandelions every day of the blooming season.”
“Anything else?”
“Nope.”
I looked down at my plate surprised to find it empty. Sneaky woman. She’s made me forget about the knot in my stomach.
I put a hundred down on the table. Enough to cover the bill and leave a generous tip. “Never change, Myrtle.”
We needed more Myrtles in the world.