Chapter Five
Melinda
“Did you hear? That fancy car drove by here earlier. Looks like the Hardgraves might be looking at selling their land,” an elderly woman gossiped to another.
Their conversation was transpiring while sitting next door to the apothecary, disregarding if anyone would overhear.
Someone like one of the two Hardgraves in town. I gritted my teeth to keep silent.
Isadora and Ambrose had also been quiet before we arrived, the silence only breaking when Isadora had decided to create a conversation of small talk topics. She would comment on the weather, the quaintness, the animals and even the gravel roads which she was unaccustomed to.
Most would have taken insult to her comments, but I knew she truly was out of her element in this small-town. Yet, as I instinctually reacted to their gossip nearby, Isadora finally spoke of something other than the weather.
“Hardgraves? Are they talking about you?” she whispered to me. I nodded, struggling to focus on the lockbox code, their conversation and Isadora breathing down my neck. “Are you really thinking of selling?”
I wanted to abandon them, but I knew my father was a grown man and could handle one of them alone. He had managed it many times before. So, why was my stomach still twisting in worry knots?
“Seems their visits are becoming more and more frequent,” the other lady was saying as I continued to listen in on the conversation. “Haven’t seen Gene for some time now. Seems his daughter is the only member of that household that makes any appearances.”
The first lady gasped, as if hearing something shocking, “Did you hear? Apparently, she was the one to find Agatha’s body. Poor dear. That must have been hard to see.”
“Well, this is the store,” I finally said as I shut the entry door behind us. Those women were still yapping, but I wasn’t any more curious in their conversation than I was with the two inside the store before me.
Ambrose walked down the rows of herbs while Isadora scanned the bookshelf that held medicinal self-help books as well as some recipe books that leaned towards a healthier diet.
No one in town cared enough to grab those.
They were accustomed to a hearty diet filled with red meats and a plethora of sides that many would deem unhealthy.
“Your dad told us you worked with her,” Ambrose spoke up, his accented voice coming from the incense area towards the furthest wall from me.
“What exactly did she have you doing? You’re no pharmacist or trained with the proper tools to acquire such herbs.
Many of these are not local. It’s hard to fathom you being capable enough to make the medicine from these herbs.
So, Miss Hardgrave, what did you do for our grandmother? ”
Is this child interrogating me?
“I proved my worth through hard work. Agatha was someone who made you work for her trust. From greeting to taking stock, I eventually got there,” I answered with an attitude that matched the one he was giving me.
It felt like conversing with the know-it-alls in school that always thought everyone was inferior to them.
“I’ve also run the store on multiple occasions without her presence.
So, it would seem your grandmother deemed me very capable to do these things.
I guess for someone as young as yourself, this would seem like complicated work. ”
“I’m not as young as you—.”
Isadora chose that moment to interject, cutting off whatever nonsense that Ambrose was about to say. She grabbed my arm with a friendly smile and pointed to the back room, “What’s back there?”
“Storage, but that’s the only place that Agatha refused me access too.
I think she might’ve set up a small room back there to rest because there were many times she stayed overnight for an order or issues with her home," I replied while mentally recounting the times I had been spooked from her appearing from that very room while I was trying to open the store.
She was an extremely soft walker, which made it nearly impossible to hear her approach.
“Do you have the key to it?” Ambrose asked.
“I do, but only for Isadora and not you,” I responded before handing said keys to the eldest here.
Ambrose seemed to bristle at my words, but neither of us had time to enter the argument he was gearing for.
Bryon, the bartender for the Saddleback and son of its owner, came bursting into the apothecary with an air of urgency.
“Mel, good you are here. There're some gunshots coming from your place. Rick heard it as he passed by. He also said there’s a fancy car outside as well.”
“Shit!” I cursed before flying out the door with a shout that I’d be back later. The ladies outside watched me with keen interest, no doubt coming up with scenarios and more to tell at their bridge game later.
The truck flew to my house as I cared nothing for speed or caution.
I wasn’t worried the men had brought in the literal big guns, but that my father had finally snapped and decided to handle them himself.
My father would not do well in prison or last very long at that.
He was older, weaker, and more prone to sickness.
Scenarios ran through my head as I pictured myself finding a dead body again or finding the cops had beat me home.
There was also no way I could run this entire farm by myself and if dad had shot at them then they could really take this land from us.
When I arrived, I saw neither a body or the cops. Instead, my father was there with his shotgun pointed at the face of the sharply dressed man. The man’s hands were in the air with the contract papers still held firmly in his grasp. I jumped from the truck and called out to my dad.
They told us we had three months so why was there another suited man here? Why give us a deadline but send these people?
“Mel, you should’ve stayed in town.”
I approached with caution. “Well, there are people that heard gunshots over here. Bryon told me what he heard from Rick. Why don’t we put down the gun before you make a big mistake? Let the guy leave, dad, I’m sure that you’ve scared him plenty.”
“Look, I didn’t know that would strike a nerve. I was only looking out for—.” The businessman’s words were silenced as dad pumped the shotgun.
“You know nothing of what’s best or not for my family.
If you did, then your little group wouldn’t be trespassing every week with different terms. This land belongs to my family.
We protect it, we nourish it, and it gives us what we need.
I won’t sell it to you to ruin that,” Dad snarled with a look that I had never seen in his eyes before.
He was furious. He was ready to kill this man and might’ve if I hadn’t shown up. How did some city stick manage to get under his skin so badly that he would entertain murder?
“You,” I addressed the man. “Get in your car and leave. You’ve overstayed your welcome.”
I didn’t need to tell him twice as he quickly backed away until he was back in his car. Once he was out of sight, dad disarmed the gun and rested it against the swinging porch chair that he slumped onto. With the situation handled, I finally let out a relieved sigh.
“You should return to those city people. I’m sure they need you.”
I took a step in his direction, frowning. “Dad, you went off the handle. You had a literal gun pointed at a man,” I mentioned. “I don’t think I can leave you alone.”
“I’m fine, Mel. You know your old man couldn’t hurt a fly. I was just upset because he tried telling me what the money could do for your future. He spoke like he was more of a salesman than a person. I overreacted, but it won’t happen again.”
An excuse that was tinged with lies. I couldn’t pinpoint what those lies were, but I knew well enough that dad wanted space so I agreed to go back. The ride back into town was not as rushed as before, but I felt as though I missed something crucial with the events that had transpired with my dad.
My thoughts tore at me until I arrived at the shop to find the two missing.
Nothing had been disturbed beyond a random jar and the books.
However, the storage door no longer sported the padlock that had kept it sealed off to unwanted guests.
They could either be in there or had been.
Crossing over towards the door to investigate, I opened it more suddenly than I intended and walked inside to an unexpected sight.
Blood bags.
I stared at the one in Isadora’s mouth, almost empty. As well as the already empty one that Ambrose held over the trash can. Blood. They were drinking blood. Forming a cross with my fingers, I backed up a few steps.
“What the hell are you? Don’t even try to say it’s not what I think because I know well enough that drinking blood is not normal. Demons? No? Are you vampires?”
Ambrose let out a frustrated grunt before slamming the empty blood bag into the trash can. “Yes, we’re vampires. So, is this the part where you round up these townies to go after us with pitchforks and torches?” he asked with a tone as dark as the emerald magic swirling around his hands.
My hand lowered slightly as I saw the magic he wielded. Green light pulsing with life that swirled between his fingers. It was mimicking a serpent.
Magic was real. Vampires were real.
It suddenly became too much for me and my knees gave out, crashing onto the floor as I lost the strength to stand. Isadora finished her bag before discarding it to appear by my side. Her speed startled me, causing a flinch. This only increased her nervousness over the situation.
“Vampires. Vampires are real and now there’s two in my town,” I spoke without a clear train of thought. I needed the words said aloud so that it would instill the realness of the discovery I made. “That’s so–.”
“Weird? I know,” Isadora interrupted. “But we don’t–.”