Cursed Romance Read online

  “Cursed Romance”

  A Supernatural Witch Cozy Mystery

  Lainswich Witches Series Book 15

  Raven Snow

  © 2017

  Raven Snow

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner & are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Products or brand names mentioned are trademarks of their respective holders or companies. The cover uses licensed images & are shown for illustrative purposes only. Any person(s) that may be depicted on the cover are simply models.

  Edition v1.02 (2018.01.12)

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  Special thanks to the following volunteer readers who helped with proofreading: Dick B, Renee Arthur, Jim T., Michele Beschen and those who assisted but wished to be anonymous. Thank you so much for your support.

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  Table of Contents

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Authors Note

  Books by Raven Snow

  Chapter One

  Double dates weren’t the sort of thing you were supposed to go on with your parents. Dinner with your husband and your parents was supposed to be just that, dinner. This wasn’t just dinner, though. This was definitely a date. You could tell from the way Tiffany, Rowen’s mother, and her new husband, Rory, kept laughing quietly and whispering things to one another. Rowen had the sneaking suspicion that something was going on under the table as well, but she didn’t want to look and see. She certainly wasn’t going to say anything. Instead, she kept her eyes fixed on the menu even though she already knew what she wanted. Lainswich didn’t have many restaurants. She ordered the same Tex-Mex taco salad she got just about every time they came here.

  Eric seemed less troubled. He was eating chips and dip and looking out the window to his right. The sun was going down outside, making the dark restaurant darker. The dwindling sunlight made an angelic halo of her husband’s hair. It was a bit mussed today. He’d been busy lately, working long nights and longer days. There was a girl missing. The police were looking into it but so was Eric. He was a private investigator, a gig Rowen helped him with when she wasn’t working with her cousins at the Lainswich Inquirer.

  It was the server who startled everyone out of what they were doing. “Everyone know what they want?” she asked, transporting the full glasses from tray to table.

  Everyone at the table exchanged looks until they reached the shared conclusion that, yeah, they did. Orders placed, Rory reached out and took a chip. “So,” he began between bites. “How’s business?”

  Rowen wasn’t sure who the question was meant for. Both she and her husband, probably. “Things are normal at the Inquirer. Pretty normal with Eric too, I guess. I mean, busy but normal… ish?”

  “Ish?” Rory repeated that last part, obviously picking up on the fact that there was a story there.

  “We’re helping the police in the search for Andrea Halifax,” said Eric, “The missing girl. Maybe you saw her on TV.”

  “I don’t actually watch TV,” said Rory, like that was something to be proud of.

  “Well, she’s been on it,” said Eric, his tone flat. Rowen didn’t think he meant to be rude. She didn’t think he had any strong feelings about Rory one way or the other. He was just tired. It had taken considerable effort on Rowen’s part to convince him to come to dinner with her. She hadn’t wanted to go alone. Besides, Eric needed a break. Not that this was much of one.

  “Any luck?” asked Rory.

  “None yet,” said Eric.

  “How old is she?” asked Rory, pressing the subject like he’d found a good jumping off point for starting a conversation.

  Eric took a deep breath. “Eighteen,” he said, looking back out the window like that was part of his job too, like he might spot the missing woman wandering through the parking lot.

  “Well,” Rory laughed. He leaned back against the cushion of the booth. “There you have it, right? She’s eighteen.” He elbowed his wife. “You remember what it was like to be eighteen.”

  Tiffany smiled a tight-lipped smile. “Those years are a bit of a blur,” she admitted, earning a laugh from her husband.

  Rowen didn’t find any humor in that. A lot of her mother’s life had probably been a blur— even the years when she was supposed to be taking care of her daughter. “Well, times are different now,” Rowen said her tone a little more bitter than she had intended. “She’s not answering her cell phone, and there hasn’t been any activity on her debit card. That sort of thing generally indicates something bad has happened to a person in this day and age.”

  Rory still didn’t back down. “Not necessarily,” he said. “When I was that age, I went out on a road trip with just the cash in my pocket. Got paid under the table while I was on the road. And ended up backpacking in Europe before the year was out. Those were some of the best years of my life. I really learned a lot about myself.”

  “Well, that’s great, but it’s harder to accomplish that sort of thing now. I seriously doubt she could have left the country without anyone noticing. So, thanks for the theory, but I think we’re going to keep on looking.” Rowen took a chip and tried not to eat it too angrily. She wasn’t sure if one could eat a chip angrily, but she had a feeling she might be doing it based on Rory’s expression.

  “Right,” said Rory, his smile growing strained. “Well, you two would know better than me. This is your area of expertise after all.”

  “Has anyone spoken to the girl’s friends?” asked Tiffany.

  “Of course they have,” said Rowen, a little too loud. She flew off the handle too easily when it came to her mother. She always had. She couldn’t help it. Tiffany Greensmith made a wealth of bad decisions on a daily basis. One of them was sitting beside her right now as far as Rowen was concerned.

  “What did her friends say?” asked Rory.

  “We can’t talk about that,” said Rowen.

  Eric looked away from the window. He put on what looke
d to be an earnest smile as he snapped back into pleasant conversation mode. “You have to sign a lot of papers when you work with the police,” Eric explained. “There’s some stuff we just can’t talk about. Obviously, you guys aren’t going to run off and gossip to anyone, but if we told you the rest of the family would get jealous, so…”

  Tiffany nodded, knowingly. “My sister couldn’t keep a secret to save her life.” She was almost certainly talking about Lydia and not Nadine. Lydia loved to gossip, though Rowen would sooner trust Lydia with a secret than her own mother and Rory, still a relative stranger.

  “How have you two been getting along?” asked Eric, steering the conversation in a new direction. Bless him. He knew Rowen struggled with stuff like this. He had always been good at leading a conversation. He’d been a businessman once and still had plenty of charm to show for it. “Is Lainswich all you remember it to be, Rory?”

  “More or less,” said Rory with a smile. He had lived in Lainswich as a young boy, before his parents had moved them all to the neighboring town of Tarricville, and before setting off on that part-road, part-backpacking trip of his. “Tiffany has introduced me to some cool people, and I like the vibe of this place. It’s like we’re in a bubble, you know?”

  They were in a bubble, in a manner of speaking. Lainswich had been founded, in part, by two separate families of witches. Things that happened in Lainswich tended to, quite literally, stay in Lainswich. It was normally a good thing. Though, news like the disappearance of Andrea Halifax tending to not make it outside of the town’s borders was a decidedly bad thing.

  “It took some getting used to for me,” said Eric with a nod in agreement. “I mostly lived from major city to major city up until I came here. It’s grown on me, even if the locals can be a little… judgmental.”

  Rory nodded right back at Eric, like he knew exactly what he meant by that. “Judgmental people are the worst. You really can’t know another person until you’ve walked a mile in their shoes, you know? That’s what I always say.”

  Rowen diverted all her energy away from trying not to angrily eat chips to trying not to roll her eyes. Rory was a font of generic truisms. “How long do the two of you plan on staying here?” she asked. That was probably a bit of a controversial question. Tiffany had a real habit of not staying in one place for very long. For most of Rowen’s childhood and her entire adult life, Tiffany had been out gallivanting across the globe. Rowen had been raised by her aunts and grandmother. Rowen still harbored a lot of negative feelings toward her mother, though she tried not to pay them too much mind these days. It wasn’t like she needed her mother around. Besides, Tiffany was an adult. She could do what she wanted… Even if what she wanted to do was marry a guy like Rory after having only known him for less than a month, at most.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” said Tiffany. “It’s been nice helping out at the shop. It’s nice checking up on old clients, you know? Seeing how they’ve been and if my advice helped them.” She was talking about reading Tarot cards. It was what she was best at and what she did for a living when she was in Lainswich. Rowen’s aunts and Uncle Norman ran a New Age shop called Odds & Ends. The place offered Tarot readings when Tiffany happened to be in town, which wasn’t often.

  “Not a whole lot for me to do around the shop, unfortunately,” said Rory. “Gotta find ways to entertain myself around here.” The way he said it suggested he wouldn’t be averse to moving on. From the way Tiffany purposely didn’t comment or look at him, Rowen got the impression that they had argued about this more than once. Tiffany definitely wasn’t one to be told when and where to go. “Don’t suppose you need some help with that private eye stuff?”

  Eric chuckled, though Rowen wasn’t so sure Rory had been joking. “That’s all right,” he said. “Rowen and I do just fine on our own.” That was the truth of it too, and something Rowen wished she could impress upon Tiffany as well. She didn’t like these little get togethers where everyone acted like they had always been close, not in the least bit estranged. “You two have anything planned for Valentine’s Day?” asked Eric, changing the subject again. He must have sensed things were quickly shifting back to awkward.

  “No,” said Rory, glancing at his wife. “We don’t believe in it.”

  Tiffany nodded. “It’s just another holiday made by corporate America to trick you into spending more money.”

  “Consumerism,” said Rory with distaste. “Why? Do you have plans?”

  “Depends,” said Eric. “If we’re still busy with this case by the time it rolls around, we won’t exactly have time for a romantic evening at home.”

  “You could have one of those anytime,” said Tiffany, speaking mildly to her daughter, like she wasn’t already aware of that fact. “You don’t have to be a slave to silly greeting card holidays. I’m sure I taught you better than that.”

  “I like the chocolates.” Rowen left it at that, not willing to waste any more time on such an inane subject.

  ***

  Dinner got a little less awkward once the food was on the table. Everyone could eat then. Conversation wasn’t required. Rory insisted on paying afterward, despite protests from both Rowen and Eric. He was determined to have his new stepdaughter like him. Rowen didn’t have the heart to tell him he was doing a terrible job at it. He was too much like her mother. He bothered her. He also wasn’t related by blood, so she didn’t feel any obligation to like him.

  For weeks, Eric had been stressing that Rory was a nice guy. He’d begged her to give him a chance. Eric was probably right. Tiffany had a long history of dating men who turned out to be evil or murderous. Rowen didn’t think Rory was one of them, which made disliking him even more of a shame. Maybe she just wasn’t capable of liking anyone her mother dated. That seemed like it could be likely.

  “We’ll have to do this again sometime soon,” said Rory as they all walked out into the parking lot together. He was tall and lanky, at least a head taller than Eric—and Eric was tall, six feet at least.

  “You’ll have to let us pay next time,” said Eric, taking Rory’s hand into his own and giving it a friendly shake.

  “We’ll see about that.” Rory shook Eric’s hand and turned to Rowen. “It was good to finally sit down and have a proper meal with you.”

  Rowen wasn’t quite sure what he was talking about. They had had plenty of proper meals together back at the home Rowen’s aunts and uncles shared. Maybe he meant a proper meal in the sense that they had never had a “double date” before now. Rowen still hated that term. More than that, she hated the fact that Rory was now coming in for a hug. She tried not to outwardly cringe as his arms wrapped around her. Unsolicited hugs were not her idea of a good time. She hugged him back anyway, briefly, giving his back an awkward pat. “It was nice,” she agreed, though she didn’t agree that they should do it again soon. It had not, in fact, been nice.

  Tiffany stood a few feet away, beaming. She looked quite pleased that her husband and daughter were getting along with one another. As soon as Rory was finished, she went in for a hug of her own. “You need to swing by the shop more. I should read your cards.”

  “Maybe,” Rowen issued out another awkward set of back pats. “If I have time, I’ll swing by.”

  Tiffany gave Eric a hug before turning and heading for their RV. Rowen got in her own car in time to watch it trundle away. “Well, that was like pulling teeth.”

  “It wasn’t that bad,” said Eric, rolling his eyes.

  “That guy is the worst.”

  “You’re overreacting,” said Eric, watching as the RV pulled out onto the road. “He’s fine. He’s probably the best guy your mother has ever brought home. Don’t you remember the others?”

  Rowen winced. He had her there. “All the more reason for me not to trust him.”

  “Give the guy a break. Sure, he’s kind of annoying but, hey, so is your mom.”

  That got a laugh from Rowen. “Yeah, I guess.” She pulled out of their parking space and onto the road.
“You want to see if the Halifaxes are in?” she asked, changing the subject. They had tried to see the Halifax family four or five times now. They’d been out every time, looking for their daughter even though police told them to stay put. Rowen couldn’t really blame them. If it was one of her cousins out there missing, no one in the world could convince her to sit at home and wait.

  “I guess we should give it another go.” Eric pulled the cell phone from his pocket and scrolled through his contacts until he found the number. He called. “Hey,” he began after a few seconds. “This is Eric Greensmith. We spoke on the phone before? …Right… Yeah… Well, actually, I was wondering if now would be a good time for my partner and I to swing by and ask you a few questions. We won’t take up much of your time. There’s just some stuff we want to clarify. It could help us a lot.” He paused then, listening to someone on the other end speak. “Great. Thanks. We’ll be over in a few.” Eric hung up.

  “We good to go?” Rowen asked, though the answer was obvious. She wasn’t used to calling ahead in order to go question someone. Of course, given the circumstances here, it was probably the correct, sympathetic thing to do. The fact still remained that people didn’t permit them over often.

  “We’re good to go,” Eric confirmed, plugging the address into the phone.

  ***

  The Halifax family lived in the nicer part of town. The houses were all two or three stories. Each lawn was a uniform bright green. There were white picket fences everywhere. “Which one is it?” asked Rowen, the GPS not providing much help aside from the fact that their “destination is on the right.”

  “Right there,” Eric pointed.

  Rowen turned into a driveway. The house looked a lot like the others. There were quite a few newspapers piled up at the end of the driveway, and two garbage cans near the house were overflowing with trash like they hadn’t been taken to the end of the drive for the last garbage day or two. Nice as it was, this was definitely the home of folks who had other matters on their mind.