A Reunion to Remember

  “A Reunion to Remember”

  A Supernatural Witch Cozy Mystery

  Lainswich Witches Series Book 16

  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 v1.0 (2018.01.25)

  http://www.ravensnowauthor.com

  Special thanks to the following volunteer readers who helped with proofreading: Renee Arthur, Michele Beschen, Jim T., Beverlee Smith 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

  Authors Note

  Books by Raven Snow

  Chapter One

  “I changed my mind,” said Rowen, folding her hands in her lap. It was dark both inside the car and out now that Eric had turned off the engine.

  “You can’t change your mind now,” said Eric. Rowen didn’t have to look at him to know he was frowning.

  “It’s a free country,” Rowen raised her shoulders in a shrug. “I can change my mind whenever I want to. Now, let’s go back home.”

  Eric shook his head and shoved the keys in the pocket of his black, bespoke trousers. “Let me rephrase then. It would be rude to back out now. Your cousins are all waiting in there for you. They think you’re coming. They’re counting on you being there, because they don’t want to be there just as much as you. That’s the impression I got, anyway. Now, you’re welcome to go home, but I won’t be a part of it. You’ll have to call a cab or something.” He opened the door.

  Rowen groaned long and loud. Eric was right, and she hated that. She hated that going in felt like the right thing to do. It took every ounce of will inside her to open the passenger’s side door and get out. Standing on the asphalt, she looked out across the crowded parking lot before her. In the distance loomed Lainswich High School. It looked every bit as miserable as she remembered it. She had been here on cases before, yes, but this felt different. She was going in as a student, as an alumna. Rowen was going back in this miserable building to celebrate some of the worst years of her life.

  “Welcome Back!” declared a big, white banner over the door. Groups of folks loitered outside. There was a lot of chatter floating across the parking lot and to Rowen’s ears. She couldn’t hear exactly what they were saying, but she heard the tone of it. They sounded excited, happy to be there. Rowen was anything but.

  “Come on,” Eric elbowed his wife before offering her his arm. “Let’s go in. You can show me off.”

  Rowen knew he was joking, but she smiled anyway. She would be lying if she said she wouldn’t find some joy in doing just that. Eric was quite handsome. Tall and broad-shouldered, he made her think of a glowing Adonis. Coming from money, he also had a good eye for fashion. The suit he wore was one he had used on business excursions before they had met. Even one of his old suits was miles ahead of the off the rack business casual ones a lot of the men looked to be wearing.

  Of course, Rowen’s dress wasn’t anything special. It hadn’t even come from a rack. She had found it on a table at a thrift store that dealt in warehouse surplus. It was a little black dress that hugged her generous curves nicely. Eric liked it. That should have been all that mattered, but it really wasn’t. She wanted to turn the heads of her former classmates too. The closer they got, the more under dressed she felt.

  It looked like every female attending wanted to look their best. No huge surprise there, though a lot of them had quite clearly gone above and beyond. It was like prom all over again, Rowen noted. She remembered that night well. Everyone had been wearing expensive dresses from the mall or a boutique. Rowen had been stuck wearing a pink, princess sleeve nightmare that clashed horribly with her auburn hair. She had picked the dress out herself from a local thrift store and her Grammy had worked all night on alterations. She had felt so pretty after Aunt Lydia did her makeup and Aunt Nadine did her hair. Not old enough to have an eye for fashion or subtlety, she hadn’t noticed that she was wearing an inordinate amount of blue eyeshadow. Instead, she had been all smiles when pictures were taken at home. She had been all smiles right up until she was halfway into the night. Someone complimented her dress. Rowen had smiled, thanked them, and then been left puzzled for a few moments when they burst into laughter. It wasn’t long after that that she realized she was just the butt of a joke… again.

  High school had not been the happiest time for Rowen. She couldn’t imagine how anyone could have found it fun. Clearly, some of her peers had. Even outdoors, people were pairing up, shrieking about how nice it was to see an old friend. Rowen couldn’t imagine many of these people had gone all that time without seeing each other even once. It wasn’t like Lainswich was a very large town, and it wasn’t like people moved away very often.

  Rowen ignored the crowd outside of the auditorium and made her way inside. It was even more crowded indoors. Rowen clung a little tighter to her husband’s arm as they waded into the thick of the crowd. Several graduating classes were all jammed in for the celebrations. The typical graduating class would have been too small to warrant its own anniversary. Of course, having several years of classes instead made things more than a little cramped. Rowen felt fairly certain they were breaking a fire code or something.

  “There you are,” Rose hurried up to Rowen through the crowd. How she had spotted her so quickly was a mystery. “I wasn’t sure you were going to show up.”

  Rowen rolled her eyes at her cousin. “Seriously?” she asked. It wasn’t like she was even late. “I told you I was coming, didn’t I?”

  “Yes, but you didn’t exactly sound excited about it.”

  “I don’t have to be excited about it. I’m here, aren’t I?”

  “I guess,” said Rose. No doubt she had gotten
here before all the crowds, back when people were still setting up. As the head of the Lainswich Inquirer she was here for a story. “Come on. I’ve got us a table.”

  Finding the table was rather perilous business. It meant picking your way past the buffet and bar and across the dance floor. At least folks hadn’t visited the aforementioned bar enough to venture out onto the dance floor quite yet. Not that the overeager DJ wasn’t doing his best to crank out overplayed hits from the 90s. Rowen wondered if he could even see the playlist through the shades he was wearing, probably not. Before she had even made it to the table, Rowen heard the song that had been playing when she entered start over.

  “Here.” There was only one other person sitting at Rose’s table. It was Ben, Rose’s husband.

  “Hey,” said Ben, giving Eric what looked like a commiserating nod, as if he was the one who had been dragged here.

  Eric nodded back. “How’s the leg?” he asked, pulling a seat out for Rowen before sitting down himself.

  It hadn’t been all that long ago that Ben had been shot in the leg. It had been an accident. Some idiot hunter had misfired. The whole thing could have gone a lot worse. Ben was finally allowed back at work at least. As the chief of police, it was never a good thing when he was off the job for any extended period of time. Not that he was out in the field as much as he would like to be. He still walked with a rather pronounced limp and was forced to attend physical therapy. The cane he used was propped against a seat now. He removed it and leaned it back against his own chair when his wife took a seat. “It’s fine,” Ben said. That was what he always said. He wasn’t the kind of guy who would easily admit that something, anything, was wrong.

  “I don’t suppose you saw anyone else on your way in, did you?” asked Rose, changing the subject. She didn’t like talking about Ben’s leg in front of him. Understandably, she found it frustrating.

  Rowen didn’t have to ask who Rose meant by “anyone.” She knew she was talking about their cousins. Willow, Peony, and Margo were all supposed to show up as well. “It’s still early,” Rowen pointed out. “People are still showing up.”

  “They might be having trouble finding a place to park,” Eric offered.

  Rowen nodded in agreement. “That and, well, you know Margo. She’s going to be fashionably late. That’s just how it is.”

  “Fashionably late,” Rose repeated, face crinkling up like it had left a bad taste in her mouth. “I don’t see why that should matter. We’re here for work, not…” Rose motioned around them emphatically. “I don’t understand how people can enjoy this sort of thing.”

  “We didn’t have to come.” Ben spoke like he had put forward the idea of not coming more than once. He looked like he would just as soon leave right now if his wife would allow it. Rowen would join him in a heartbeat.

  Rose sat up a little straighter. “No. No, it’s news. Just because we… didn’t particularly… enjoy high school doesn’t mean others didn’t. I mean, just look how many people are here.”

  “It’s a fire hazard,” said Ben. “I want to close it down.”

  “Shh,” Rose hissed. “At least wait until I have enough material for an article.”

  “Closing this down would be a story,” Ben muttered.

  Rowen found herself nodding in agreement. “I like that story. I would read that story.”

  “Hush. Both of you,” Rose warned. She scanned their surroundings like she was nervous someone might have overheard.

  Rowen watched her cousin. She wondered if she was feeling self-conscious, if she was worried about the opinions of others even now. It sure looked like it. As a general rule, it was a good idea to keep the folks of Lainswich on their side. The town wasn’t overly fond of the Greensmiths. Even so, this felt a little different. It was like that need not to make the town angry was paired with that need to be liked from high school—and it paired poorly.

  Rose hadn’t had the easiest time in high school. She had struggled to even graduate. She was intelligent, though she had never done particularly well with classes. Rose had always brought her own books to study. They were usually large tomes, family spell books passed down through the generations. She would pore over grimoires the way some kids prepped for their SATs. She had been the most interested in witchcraft of any of her cousins. Unfortunately, she had also been born without any innate ability to perform it. Though as much a Greensmith as any of them, magic simply wasn’t in her blood. She had been adopted. It had never been a secret, and she and Lydia had never had anything but a wonderful relationship. All the same, it clearly bothered her. She was too different to fit in at high school and still not as unusual as she would have liked. She never really talked about it, but Rowen also suspected being one of only, like, three Asian Americans living in Lainswich contributed to some of that otherness.

  “Well, if we’re going to be here a while, I want a drink,” Rowen announced. She scanned the others at their table. “Does anyone else want a drink?”

  Ben shook his head.

  “We’re here for work,” Rose said, giving her cousin a scandalized look.

  “Just me then? Okay.” Rowen pushed her chair back and stood. “You want anything, Honey?”

  Eric looked up. “No, I’m all right. Thanks.”

  “All right. I’ll be right back.” It wasn’t like Eric was leaving her much choice. She knew what he was doing. He was staying put because that meant she would have to come back ASAP. All Rowen wanted to do tonight was stay close to her handsome husband and stick to the shadows. She didn’t want to have to interview anyone. Interviews were looking to be more and more unavoidable, though. Rowen needed some liquid courage now more than ever.

  In the mere handful of minutes Rowen had spent with Rose, the auditorium had grown more crowded. There was a line at the bar—or rather some bastardized semblance of a line. A couple dozen people were all sidled up to it, pressed to it like extreme proximity meant one of the bartenders would take their order faster. Rowen didn’t want to wade into that, so she just stood back and waited her turn.

  “Rowen!” the voice of Willow exclaimed. Rowen looked up to see her cousin approaching, juggling three clear, plastic martini glasses. She was looking as cute as usual. It wasn’t really black suit attire, but Willow wasn’t the elegant sort. Her flower-print blouse and pleated skirt suited her. “When did you get here?”

  “Just now,” said Rowen, eying the martini glasses. “Rose already has a table. Who else came with you?”

  Willow opened her mouth to answer, but that appeared to be unnecessary. She pointed over Rowen’s shoulder instead. Rowen turned to see three people coming their way.

  Benji was there. He was Willow’s boyfriend. They lived together, so it was no surprise to see him here and in the company of her family. He cleaned up nice. Unlike Willow, he had worn a suit. It was clearly a suit bought on a budget. It was too big at the shoulders and draped awkwardly on his skinny frame. Even so, it made him look smart. He pushed his glasses up along the bridge of his nose before giving Rowen a friendly wave.

  Peony was just behind him. Peony had re-dyed her hair purple for the occasion, though her roots were very grown out, leaving her hair a dirty blond near the scalp. She looked like her older sister, cute but not elegant. She was chatting to Tina as they all approached. Tina was another story altogether. She looked stunning in a red evening gown. Her hair had been done, dyed a sultry red and put up into an impressive mass of interwoven braids. She and Peony looked a little odd standing together, but that was to be expected. Back in high school, Tina had been one of many bullies. She had only changed her tune after Rowen and company had helped her out by solving a mystery. Peony had even taken a bullet for her, an act that had apparently endeared Tina to her for the foreseeable future.

  “You guys want me to lead you to the table?” asked Rowen.

  Peony looked up from Tina, startled. “Oh! Hey, Rowen. Naw, we’re going to get a drink first. We’ll come find you after.”

  Rowe
n looked to the three drinks Willow was holding. “What?” asked Willow, “These are all for me.”

  Rowen really should have guessed Willow, of all people, wouldn’t be doing anyone any favors. “Can you grab me something?”

  “Sure,” said Peony. “What?”

  “Anything that’s strong.” Rowen left the bar and led Willow and Benji back to the table. Rose had already left, no doubt snagging people for interviews. Eric and Ben had been left to their own devices. They were sitting in awkward silence when Rowen reached the table once more.

  Ben eyed the drinks as Willow placed them on the table. “No, thank you,” he said.

  “That’s fine,” grumbled Willow. “They’re not for you anyway. They’re mine.”

  Eric raised his eyebrows but didn’t actually say anything. “Did you bring your camera?” Rowen asked, looking Willow up and down for a sign of it.

  “Of course I did.” Willow patted her purse. “I’ll take some pictures after I’m done with these.” She started on the first martini glass. Rowen wasn’t sure what exactly was in the glass. It was an amber colored liquid, so it probably wasn’t actually a martini.

  “I didn’t miss this place,” said Benji, looking around. He gave a small shiver like a bad memory had just gripped him.

  “None of us did,” Rowen assured him.

  Ben shrugged, expression an impassive one. “I dunno. I didn’t really hate school or anything.”

  “You weren’t teased,” said Benji.

  “I wasn’t popular,” Ben said, his gaze turning distant and thoughtful. “I know people stopped sitting with me at lunch and inviting me along to movies when I started dating Rowen.” He nodded in Rowen’s direction. “Not that I really cared. Never been one to really worry about a social life, myself. Better to just put your head down and get through things like that.”