Be Careful What You Witch For by Dawn Eastman
To my son, Jake, who inspired all the best parts of Seth.
Acknowledgments
Writing is a solitary pursuit, but the production of a novel is a group effort.
Thank you to the team at Berkley Prime Crime. I am fortunate to work with such a fantastic group. Special thanks to my editor, Andie Avila, whose attention to detail and love for the characters make each book better.
My agent, Sharon Bowers, will always have my deep gratitude for making a dream reality.
I would like to thank DP Lyle, MD, for sharing his medical expertise. And thanks to Ramona Valencia for (gleefully) helping to plot a murder and donating old EpiPens to the cause of research.
I’m grateful to my amazing writer’s group, Wendy Delsol, Kali VanBaale, Murl Pace, and Kim Stuart. Their support and encouragement are priceless.
Thank you to family members Ann and Bob Eastman, Jim and Alyce Mooradian, Barb Laughlin, Kristin Morton, and Barbara Morton who have tirelessly spread the word about the Family Fortune Mysteries.
To my webmaster brother, Brent Eastman, for help with all the technology.
And finally, to Steve, Jake, and Ellie, who make my life a hilarious adventure.
1
Black-robed figures circled the bonfire. Their chanting sent a shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with the cold. Hooded and lit only by the flickering flames and silver moonlight filtering through the naked branches overhead, they were nameless except for their leader, my best friend Diana.
I felt a sharp jab in my ribs.
“When’s the good stuff start?” Aunt Vi said, too loudly. Though a skeptic about Wicca she’d insisted on coming to the ceremony when she heard there would be fire and a cauldron. Her silver braid peeked out from under her borrowed robes and she gawked around the circle.
“Shhh!” I hissed. I felt uneasy anyway, but now several of the hooded figures had turned in our direction.
Deep in Greer’s Woods on Halloween, we were a good fifteen-minute hike from the road. Diana had trekked her supplies to this spot during the afternoon. Wiccans called this day “Samhain” and she planned to summon the spirits of the dead and the Goddess of Shadows to join us for the Wiccan New Year celebration. Putting a Wiccan in charge of the Fall Fun Fest meant the usual lineup of kids’ costume parade and applesauce-eating contest was joined by a midnight ceremony in the woods.
Vi tugged on my robe.
“Clytemnestra, you said we were going to see our future in the fire. I don’t see anything.”
“She just started—give her a minute,” I said through clenched teeth. Vi was purposely using my full name to irk me.
Nearing seventy, Vi had retained what might be politely called a “childlike enthusiasm” for all things paranormal.
Diana lit the black candles on the makeshift altar and called on the four elements to join the circle. I felt the heavy brown bread we’d shared earlier settle uncomfortably in my stomach. When she reached the part about the God of Darkness and Goddess of Shadows, I moved a little closer to Aunt Vi. Diana doesn’t scare me, but sometimes her ceremonies and spells do.
Until six months ago, I had been a police officer. I felt guns, criminals, and drunken idiots were business as usual. Magick, ghosts, and séances were another matter. We lived in Crystal Haven, a town known for its psychics and fortune-tellers, so I should have been used to it. But, hosting the Fall Fun Fest that included a Wiccan ceremony was new. In the midst of this spooky group with only a crescent moon and a bonfire for illumination, standing closer to Vi was only slightly reassuring. The flames cast dancing shadows on the trees, accentuating their gnarled branches. Sparks lifted up and disappeared in the darkness.
Another jab to the ribs. “Nothing’s happening. What about the cauldron?” Vi said, more quietly.
Just then Diana dropped a match into her cauldron and blue flames leaped out and glowed in the center of the circle.
“Oooh,” Vi breathed.
A burning stick of sage was passed around the circle. “Burn and blaze! Into the future we now gaze!” The group chanted, asking to see their future in the fire. Vi joined in with gusto. I thought longingly about séances and tarot cards. Those seemed tame and soothing compared to this.
Mesmerized by the flames, my mind wandered. Without meaning to, I stared deeply into the fire. I saw a vision of a house. The cottage was covered in vines and set back in a dense forest. I felt myself drawn to it, as if I’d been there before. The atmosphere of the ceremony and the chanting of the circle had breached my wall of protection. I habitually guarded against any messages from other realms. I shook my head to clear it of the smoky fog that had settled over me.