A Killer Retreat Read online

  “A Killer Retreat”

  A Supernatural Witch Cozy Mystery

  Lainswich Witches Series Book 20

  Raven Snow

  © 2018

  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 v1.01 (2018.11.02)

  http://www.ravensnowauthor.com

  Special thanks to the following volunteer readers who helped with proofreading: Richard Bryant, Sue Fay, Renee Arthur, VMH, Claire Boland and those who assisted but wished to be anonymous. Thank you so much for your support.

  Chapter One

  “Who names their kid Crystal Tree?” asked Eric. He was helping Rowen pack, albeit reluctantly. She had waited until the last minute in the hopes that something would come up and she wouldn’t really have to go.

  “No one names their kid Crystal Tree,” said Rowen as she dug through the plastic tub of clothing that should have been dumped into a donation bin a long time ago. “At least I hope they don’t.” She found the worn out sneakers she had been looking for. There was no sense in trudging around the woods in her good shoes. She wasn’t even willing to waste her workout sneakers on it. Besides, knowing what kind of retreat it was, they probably wouldn’t be wearing shoes much. “Her name is Crystal Spruce, and she legally changed it to that after her first couple of books really took off.”

  “What was it before?” asked Eric.

  Rowen shrugged, though her back was to him and she wasn’t sure if he could see her. “I don’t remember. I’m sure Aunt Lydia knows. Why don’t you ask her? She’ll love that you’re taking an interest. Hey! I’ve got an idea! Why don’t you tell her you want to go? I’m sure she’d love to take you.”

  “Nice try.” Eric intercepted his wife in a big bear hug as she turned and stepped out of the closet. She grumbled but let his arms cradle her, leaning into his chest and closing her eyes. He smelled nice. His shirt was freshly laundered, and he’d gotten out of the shower less than thirty minutes before. This was probably the last time she would smell someone so clean for, at least, a week. If there was any sort of shower where she was going, it was one of those public ones where the water was lukewarm, and you either wore flip-flops or contracted some form of foot fungus. Speaking of which…

  “I need shower shoes.” Rowen reluctantly pulled herself from her husband’s arms and headed back into the closet. “I’m not even sure I own any.”

  “Then buy some on the way,” Eric suggested.

  “What time is it?”

  “Too early.”

  “Seriously.”

  “About fifteen ’til.”

  “Until seven?” Rowen’s heart sped up in her chest. They would be here any moment, and she hadn’t finished packing.

  “Until seven,” Eric confirmed with a yawn. “I told you that you should have packed last night.”

  “Yeah, well…” Rowen didn’t really have anything to say beyond that. Hindsight was twenty-twenty. Besides, she had been feeling sorry for herself and lazy, a dangerous combination. She’d ended up marathoning cheesy romance movies while eating a carton of ice-cream. Soon, she would be stuck in the woods without entertainment or comfort foods. “Why did I say yes to this?” she groaned.

  “Because you love your family,” Eric said, which was right on the nose. Rowen was going as a favor to her aunt Lydia specifically. The retreat with Crystal Spruce was her idea. She had been excited since she’d heard Spruce was coming to Lainswich.

  Crystal Spruce. Rowen had met her before, though it had been a while. She had just been a little girl at the time, too young to go on one of the retreats but plenty old enough to stand in line at a book signing. The line in question hadn’t been very long. They had spent what felt like hours at the bookstore anyway. Rowen remembered it in vivid and excruciating detail. She had been dragged along with her cousins, Rose, Willow, and Peony. Margo had been lucky. She had been dropped off with a friend at the movies. The younger girls hadn’t been so fortunate. They were forced to mull around the bookstore while Lydia and Nadine shelled out too much money to have their books signed. Aunt Lydia had talked Spruce’s ear off, and the woman had smiled and nodded and chimed in occasionally. After it was all said and done, they had even had their picture taken together. It still hung in the hallway of the Greensmith family home. Wide, wild-haired Aunt Lydia and slim-boned, willowy Aunt Nadine stood on either side of a woman with bleached-blonde hair and spray-tan skin.

  When Rowen had gotten a little older, she had read one of Crystal Spruce’s books. Aunt Lydia owned all of them. They had their own shelf in the den. The signed one was always on display, signed inner cover propped open with a plastic divider.

  Spruce was a joke. That was what Rowen thought. She had tried to discuss the matter with her cousins, but they didn’t seem to have much of an opinion on the matter. Margo, Willow, and Peony plain didn’t care. Rose wouldn’t commit to much more than a shrug. “I don’t know,” she’d say. “I’m not a witch. I really wouldn’t know a fake from the real thing.”

  She was adopted, so Rose couldn’t do magic like the rest of the Greensmith family. The idea that she couldn’t tell whether Crystal Spruce was a fake or not was nonsense. She could tell. She was just too nice to say anything. Not that Rowen was much better. She was only stuck in the situation she was in because she was trying to be nice, after all. She’d even done Rose one better. It was Rose who was Aunt Lydia’s daughter. Lydia had wanted her to go to the retreat, but she had refused, citing again that it was for witches and she wasn’t a witch. So Lydia had asked Rowen and then Rose had asked Rowen and, well, it was hard not to cave. Plus, Rose had offered to pay her even though she wasn’t at work. Not that going to a Crystal Spruce retreat seemed more enjoyable than showing up for work every day at the Lainswich Inquirer. At least it didn’t feel preferable now that she was second guessing everything and trying to get all her packing done at the last minute.

  ***

  There was honking from down in the driveway. “Are you kidding me?” Rowen groaned to no one in particular.

  “I think they’re here,” said Eric, stating the obvious. Rowen turned to find him suppressing a yawn as he leaned against the window frame. He waved down in the direction of the driveway a story below.

  “Why are they honking?” It was more complaint than question. “They’re going to wake up the neighbors.”

  “I think she’s just excited.”

  “No doubt.” Rowen could already picture Aunt Lydia bouncing up and down, waving excitedly. “Will you go down and let them in, Sweetie?”

  “Do you want me to stall?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.” Eric didn’t sound too optimistic. He left the room and she heard him on the stairs. Muffled, high-pitched voices came up through the floors a few seconds later.

  Rowen made peace with the fact that she was probably missing half her camping essentials and zipped her duffel. She slung it o
ver her shoulder and made it to the top of the stairs just in time to catch Aunt Lydia on the landing.

  Aunt Lydia was wearing an over-sized t-shirt with a tacky fairy tale scene of toadstools and gnomes on it. Rowen recognized it even though it was mostly obscured, tucked into the old denim overalls she used for gardening. “So you are packed.” Lydia looked her niece up and down with an approving smile. “I was going to go up there and give you a hand. I half expected you to be sleeping.”

  “Who can sleep? I’m too excited.” Rowen said without an ounce of enthusiasm, a fact that Lydia missed entirely.

  “I know!” Aunt Lydia squealed and clapped her hands together in excitement. It was rare to see her so giddy. “This is going to be so much fun.” She stood in Rowen’s way as she came down the stairs, intercepting her and taking her hands firmly in her own. “I’m so happy you agreed to come with me. We’re going to have such a good time.”

  Rowen felt a stab of guilt for the reality of the situation, that she was dreading this week-long retreat of theirs. She cleared her throat and forced a smile. “Yeah, of course. Thanks for inviting me.”

  “If I’d known you wanted to go, I would have asked you from the beginning.” Lydia turned and headed back down the stairs. “Rose just wouldn’t cave, and the kids are too young. Besides, Reginald took them on his business trip. They’re in New York right now, if you can believe it. I don’t want those kids falling in love with the city or anything. I’m trying to raise them to appreciate nature, but it’s so cute seeing them in Times Square dressed up like little tourists. I’ll have to show you the pictures in the car.”

  Rowen had already seen the pictures. Reginald had sent them to the whole family in a group text, not just to his wife. She didn’t point that out either.

  ***

  Aunt Nadine was downstairs smiling and talking with Eric. He was trying to foist a carton of cookies on her. “For the trip.”

  Nadine was holding her hands up and shaking her head. “Oh, thank you, thank you. No. No, they’re yours. We couldn’t. You keep them.”

  “Nadine!” Aunt Lydia hurried over and snatched the cookies from Eric. “Don’t you listen to her. We absolutely can.” She swatted her sister on the arm. “We need snacks for the road.”

  Nadine rolled her eyes but waited until Lydia was heading back outside and out of earshot before speaking. “For the road,” she repeated, shaking her head. “It’s not like we’re going that far.”

  That was true. They weren’t even leaving Lainswich. They were just heading deeper into a more rural part of it. “Do you think we’ll get cell reception out there?” asked Rowen. It was something she had been wondering for a couple of days.

  “I don’t know,” Nadine admitted. “But I’m sure someone will have a satellite phone handy just in case. This is an organized event, after all.” She patted Eric on the arm with her long, thin hands. “Don’t you worry about a thing. We’ll keep her safe.”

  “I’m sure you will.” Eric followed them all out into the driveway. He took Rowen’s bag from her, shouldering it instead. “Have fun,” he said, quietly, once only she was close enough to hear.

  Rowen leaned against her husband’s side. She was short and leaning into him always felt oddly comforting. He was so much bigger and more solid than she was. If dependable could be a physical sensation, Eric was what it felt like. “Fat chance of that.”

  “Hey.” Eric chaffed Rowen’s arm and leaned down to plant a kiss on the top of her head. “I think you’ll have fun. Don’t be so negative. Your cousins will be with you.”

  Two of them would at any rate. They looked like they were enjoying themselves already. Rowen could see Willow’s face all smooshed against the back window of Lydia’s station wagon. She was clearly asleep. Peony looked like she was trying to accomplish the same. She was doubled over next to her sister, her forehead pressed to the back of the driver’s seat. “It looks like they want to be here less than I do.”

  “Yeah right. They probably jumped at the chance for some time off work.”

  “You’re probably right.” Rowen hadn’t bothered to ask, but she did know that everyone but Rose and herself really loved shirking work whenever the opportunity presented itself.

  “Come on. Forget about this chick you don’t like, and just try to have some fun with your family. You love camping.”

  Eric had said all that to Rowen before, and it still rang true. She nodded and stood up on her toes to press a proper goodbye kiss to his lips. “I wish you could come along.”

  “Yeah, well, we’ll have to have a camping trip of our own one of these days. Just the two of us.”

  “Hmm,” Rowen hummed, intrigued by the idea. “We’ll come back to that idea when I get home. Of course, that’s assuming I haven’t sworn off camping for the next millennium by then.”

  “Come on!” Lydia called. She was standing next to the open driver’s side door of her station wagon. “Get in. We don’t want to run late.”

  “Running late would be the worst,” Rowen muttered, a comment meant for Eric’s ears alone. They hugged one last time before she piled into the back seat. “Move over,” she told Peony.

  Peony raised her head and stared blearily at Rowen. She frowned. “That’s not fair. I was here first. I shouldn’t have to sit in the middle.”

  “I’m not going to climb over you. Just move over.”

  “No!”

  “Peony, move over,” Aunt Nadine said firmly.

  “I’m not a child,” Peony grumbled, reminding her mother of the fact and moving over anyway.

  Rowen got in and buckled her seatbelt. She waved to Eric as they pulled out. Regret kicked into double time as she watched her house fade into the distance. In the woods there would be no Eric or Chester, their dog. There would be no ordering pizza and vegging out to movies on the couch. Sure, she liked camping under the right conditions, but she wasn’t going to like this. She could feel that in her bones already.

  Chapter Two

  It shouldn’t have taken as long to get to the campgrounds as it did. Rowen had lived in Lainswich for most of her life. If anyone asked, she would feel confident in telling them she had seen just about every inch of it. Yet, it felt like they kept driving deeper and deeper into the woods. Maybe it was because they were in Lainswich’s only mountainous area. The roads were inefficient, going up and around and down. How was anyone even supposed to find the retreat? Rowen didn’t have signal on her phone anymore, so it wasn’t like they could use a GPS if they got lost.

  Aunt Lydia drove with confidence. She hummed along with the radio, taking left and right turns without so much as consulting a map. Rowen was tempted to ask how much further, but as she opened her mouth she realized she really didn’t care. The next week would probably be more enjoyable if they did get lost in the woods. She wasn’t in any hurry to actually arrive at their destination.

  Unfortunately, Rowen’s suspicions were true. Lydia had known exactly where she was going. She made a final turn onto a dirt road. They drove through a camping ground, past cabins that made Willow perk up. “We’re going to be sleeping in beds?”

  Lydia laughed. “Don’t worry. We didn’t bring the sleeping bags for nothing. We’ll be sleeping under the stars all week.” She had misread Willow’s excitement over beds as concern.

  “Oh,” Willow responded flatly, staring wistfully out her window as they passed the last of the big brown cabins.

  There were cars parked beyond the cabins. Rowen spotted them as they crested over the next hill. Quite a few skinny white women in tank tops were milling around there. Most of them had luggage in hand, rolling bags and duffels. Lydia pulled up beside them and threw the car into park.

  Everyone piled out of the car. “Oh, it’s so lovely out here,” Lydia sang out to no one in particular. She appeared to be oblivious to the sideways glances she was getting from the other attendees. The women all reminded Rowen a bit of Crystal Spruce herself. They all had dark tans that couldn’t be healthy f
or the skin and physiques like they had been subsisting on powdered super-foods for the last few decades. Witchcraft wasn’t a lifestyle to them. They hadn’t been born into it. They had never studied the occult. They read cheesy New Age books like the ones Spruce wrote and spent too much money on gemstones and essential oils.

  A hand settled on Rowen’s shoulder. “Don’t be so judgmental.” Aunt Nadine’s voice was soft so as not to be heard by anyone else. She offered Rowen a warm smile when she looked her way. “Go in all determined not to have fun, and you won’t.”

  Was she being that obvious? Rowen did her best to smile at her aunt and be earnest about it. If Nadine knew what she was really thinking, there was a good chance Lydia did too. “I’m not being judgmental,” she lied. All Nadine had to do was raise one dark eyebrow. “Fine,” Rowen grumbled. “I just… I mean you know we’re the only real witches here, right?”

  When Nadine replied, it was in the same soft voice she had used before. “You don’t know that. Being a witch can mean a lot of different things to different people. You can learn something from everyone, you know. It’s dangerous to think you have all the answers. Keep an open mind.”

  Rowen wasn’t sure she actually believed there was any knowledge she was going to glean from this particular trip. She nodded anyway. “I’ll do my best.” She was afraid that Nadine would see through anything else. Besides, Lydia was coming closer. She didn’t want her to be a part of this conversation. It was mostly Lydia she was doing this for, after all.

  “Everyone grab your bags.” Aunt Lydia opened up the back of the station wagon. She smiled brightly as Willow and Peony trudged forward, still groggy and yawning. They wrestled their things from the back, which was an armful. Willow in particular looked weighed down. She had in her arms a huge, plush sleeping bag and no less than three pillows. Her duffel bag was slung over her shoulder, weighing her down more and causing her to tip to one side.