Chapter 3 Two Months Ago
It had been a task finding the chief's address, and not simply because he had only moved to Salem a few months prior. No, he had gone to great lengths to keep his home private. But working in radio offered her a few background privileges she rarely used.
She put her car in park and peered through the windshield down the long gravel drive, which was grown over in places by tall bull thistle and patches of fuzzy grass. She took in what looked like a miniature stone castle, mouth open and eyes wide.
It looked like someone had taken one portion of a large medieval structure, whisked it away to this northeastern sea town, and then placed it lovingly here in a thick patch of woods for safekeeping.
There was one turret connected to a tall rectangular, light grey stone structure with three windows across its face.
The porch, not what she would consider welcoming, was a large, dark cavern.
No lights were on, save for a flickering yellow glow in the top window of the rounded turret with iron bars.
The lanterns mounted on either side of the porch looked like they would burn real fire, but were empty.
She gave herself a moment, then nodded and grabbed the wooden basket, making her way up the gravel drive to the porch.
She paused in front of the stone steps and drew in a deep breath. The doors were French, large, and heavy wood with one small window that showed the dark foyer beyond it. There was a stone bat standing sentry to her right, and she almost laughed.
Almost.
She took a moment as she gathered her courage.
The sun had started its descent, and the spring-thin tree branches scraped along its light as the night creatures stirred.
The smell of the woods waking from winter filled her senses, the reminder of life giving her the courage she needed.
She couldn't explain it to anyone, least of all herself, but there was something about the chief that had drawn her.
Since Bess's bonfire confession about that night, the night she had left this world and was then brought back to it by her account, and what she thought she had seen as if in a fever dream as the chief had gently carried her to the couch and watched over her, Tilly hadn't been able to keep thoughts of him at bay.
She took the four steps up onto the wide, cool porch and lifted her hand to knock.
Then she waited.
The index and middle fingers of her right hand tapped against her thigh.
The front door opened. Her heart pounded.
The chief stood there, a look she could almost identify as shock on his austere face, and he kept his hand on the antiquated door handle in the shape of a bird's head.
He reminded her of a statue, the way he held himself, the way he only moved exactly how he needed.
"Miss Nguyen," he said, his voice coming out gruff.
"Chief," she responded. She swallowed nervously.
She watched him look around. When he looked back at her, his dark eyes calculating, she wondered if this had been a grave mistake. She was alone. No one knew she had come here. And she knew what he was, or she thought she did. It still seemed outlandish, and yet...
"Can I help you?"
She held up the basket. "I brought you some of my honey wine and Kelsea's magical chocolate cake."
He looked at the basket. Then to her. "You brought me wine and cake," he said.
"Mhmm," she smiled brightly. She was a bright person, and she thought that maybe it would annoy him, but he tilted his head the slightest in piqued interest.
"Why?"
"Because you saved Bess's life. And you believed us about Cassidy." She shrugged her petite shoulders. "And you're new in town, and I wasn't sure if anyone had properly welcomed you yet."
A gust of almost-summer wind wound around her, the smell bright and hopeful. She watched him clench his strong jaw.
"Well, it's my job. Happy that Bess is alright," he drawled.
"You're from Texas, right?"
He stared at her. Nothing on his face gave him away. And perhaps he had, over years. He would use it as a tactic to deter people from intruding. Or pull out a shadowed confession. It was a warning, but just short of angry and dangerous. She knew angry and dangerous.
And for some odd reason, she might need to internally deconstruct at some point, she liked poking at that stone front of his.
So she smiled. "Well, I won't take up more of your time.
Hope to see you around, Chief." She stepped forward, handed him the basket, her soft hand brushing his, her breath catching as he stiffened.
A tingle sparked inside of her. She blinked behind her green glasses as he took on that statuesque form.
That was enough playing with the large, mysterious man. She stepped back and waved as she walked down the steps and to her car. She counted to eight.
And then she drove home, wondering why she had gone there, why she had gone to all the trouble. But the moment his dark eyes had hit hers, the waning light gracing his sharp cheekbones, and the way that his lips had looked like they'd been stained just the slightest, she knew she'd needed to.
Chief Theo Landry was exactly what Bess had suspected.
"Tilly?" Ursula's voice, soft and curious, brought Tilly back to the sunny kitchen where her three friends and a raccoon stared at her with concern.
"I haven't seen him in a couple of months," she said, feigning indifference with a shrug.
What she didn't tell them was that it had been purposeful.
She hadn't been sure what to do with her new certainty of the chief, and even more confusing was her attraction to him.
Which had not waned by any measure and was concerning.
"So, solstice," she changed the subject with bright charm.
Eloise eyed her suspiciously, but she brightened her smile. "Thinking the graveyard?"
"Ursula, will you help me gather herbs and plants from your garden for the evening of the solstice?" Crystal asked.
"Absolutely.""We can meet as the sun begins its golden ownership over the night."
"I swear, she's from a different time," Eloise whispered to Ursula, who nodded in agreement.
"Farewell, my darlings!" she sang with a flourish of her hand, leaving the kitchen and women behind. "Remember, good food, strength, and ecstasy!" Before she was fully down the hallway, she called for Tilly, shouting in her sing-song voice to look in her pocket for something that she might need.
Tilly gave Eloise and Ursula a look, and in sync, they shrugged their shoulders. She frowned as she reached into her front jeans pockets, coming up empty. Then she slid her hands down her backside into those thin pockets, her right hand catching on something smooth.
She pulled out a familiar black and gold card, holding it up to surprised faces. Even Lady Macbeth sat on the island at attention, one of her small kits snuggling into Lady's side.
"Is she getting more..." Tilly bit her lip, trying to find words.
"Spooky?" Eloise provided.
"Yeah." Tilly's head nodded.
"Well, what does it say?" Ursula urged, taking a sip of her coffee, her green eyes curious over the rim.
"Wheel of Fortune," she read. The card had what looked like a compass but with symbols instead of cardinal directions.
There were rough depictions of an ancient Egyptian pharaoh, an open book, and gold clouds.
There was writing on each end of the card, only one side legible depending on how you held it, and she instinctively knew that, how she had pulled it out, the writing on the bottom was meant to be.
"And?" Eloise leaned over the island, resting her arms there as they waited.
"Misfortune, out of control, bad luck, unexpected setback, disruption, and unwelcome change.
" Tilly looked back up, a feeling of foreboding coming over all of them.
They could feel it settle over their shoulders, a kind of darkness that ate at the lamps and sunlight.
Eloise smelled something sharp, and then they watched in awe as the black irises started drooping, as though time had sped up and they were watching a fast-forward vision of the flowers losing their life.
"Well, that's one way to start the day," Eloise said.