Chapter 10 Caroline

Chapter 10

Caroline

Gert Wilton dropped her cell phone on the kitchen counter, narrowly missing the sink where Mina and Caroline were de-funking walk-in racks that probably hadn't been washed in years—which wasn't surprising, really, given Will's kitchen management.

"Well, for Pete's sake," her mother sighed.

"Which one was it now?" Caroline asked carefully. Mina picked up the racks and excused herself, carrying them to the supply closet to dry. Caroline smiled at her.

"Your cousin Gus fell off a ladder," her mother said, frowning. "The man's been a roofer here for fifteen years, and he fell off a ladder changing his porch light bulb. Gave himself a concussion. Your father says he's lucky he didn't fracture his skull."

One would think that Caroline would blame the upheaval on the magical landscape of Shaddow House. But no, over the last week, her great-aunt Myrtle had slipped on a freshly mopped floor, dislocating her hip. One of her uncles tripped down the stairs in front of his house and landed face-first in a birdbath. And now, cousin Gus nearly got taken out by a light bulb. All while they remained on Starfall Point.

Was the curse escalating because the coven had been trying to communicate with the ghost at Vixen's Fall? If anything, the purple lady ghost here at the Rose had gone quiet. Not so quiet that they felt comfortable with Mina working at the bar without Caroline around, but not trying to directly communicate with either of them. She just lurked in the shadows, glaring. If Mina tried to approach, she disappeared. It was sort of passive-aggressive, as far as ghosts went, but still effectively creepy. And if Caroline tried to approach, to talk about her unresolved business or whatever was making her creep around the bar, she just faded into the darkness.

Gert sank against the counter. "It just feels…wrong, all these accidents, on top of your moped incident. The island is supposed to be safe for us. I couldn't bear it if something happened to one of you."

Caroline wished she could tell her mother about what the coven was trying to do, looking into the curse, trying to resolve what had plagued their family for so long. But they'd already expanded their little circle of trust beyond what Caroline had ever imagined, thanks to Plover's impulsive decision-making skills. The idea of including her parents in that circle, which would include her brothers, because they were incapable of keeping secrets—that was just a bad idea.

"I don't know," Caroline said. "But none of them have suffered fatal injuries, right? And in terms of clumsiness, our family has always been a little above average."

Gert's smile was thin. "That's true."

"But I'm almost healed up," Caroline said, even as she winced at the soreness in her middle. "I'll be back on my foot, the other one, at least, before you know it."

"Good, because I really need the help around here," Gert sighed. "I can't believe how grimy we let the place get over the years. Will's gonna need to do a deep clean before we reopen."

Caroline decided that progress was the better part of valor and chose not to mention that Will was going to pitch an absolute fit when presented with the word "deep" combined with the word "clean." She pulled the last rack out of the sink, wincing at the pain in her ribs. Mina rushed out to grab it and take it from her.

"You all right?" Gert asked. Caroline nodded, even if it was a lie, and carried several racks into the storage closet at the back of the kitchen. It was right next to the office, or at least, the little cubby where they'd managed to shove a desk. She noticed as she passed that the box of memorabilia was on her mother's shelf, shoved between messy stacks of paperwork and bottles of whiskey. Caroline had decided to bring the canvas back here after they'd experimented at Shaddow House. They weren't sure if it was haunted and if it was, she didn't want to take a chance of somehow dragging the ghost into the house with Riley. But she'd left it sticking up out of the box, among the trophies and picture frames. It was gone, and so was the landscape that had been nailed over it.

"Did you move the painting of the purple-dress lady?" Caroline whispered.

Mina shook her head emphatically, glancing around, as if the ghost was listening. "No, that thing…gives me upsetting feelings. And Josh won't go near it…because I told him not to. It's really the first time he's actually jumped at the chance to do what I've asked."

Caroline snickered. "Mom, what happened to the painting?"

"What painting?" her mom asked. "The sad little landscape your father has always refused to throw away? I don't know."

Caroline walked through the kitchen to the barroom. Cole was finished with the upstairs repairs to the second level and bolstering the patio outside, which didn't require much beyond bracing with proper lumber. He had moved on to patching the hole in the ceiling. It was sort of nice, not being able to see through the floor upstairs.

"Hey, Cole?"

Cole turned on the ladder, plaster trowel in hand—and woo, a few months ago, she would have taken full advantage of the delectable derrière at her eye level. Cole was a treat that she would have gladly added to her no-guilt rotation. Well, maybe she would have waited until the renovation was done because she knew better than to mess around where she ate.

But now Ben was in the picture. Bright, beautiful Ben, who knew what could make her laugh and cry and scream with pleasure. Suddenly, the idea of taking Cole home for some enthusiastic and aerobically effective sex seemed a little hollow and sad. Dammit. She had gone and made progress to being a fully emotionally evolved adult.

In the corner, she saw the purple-lady ghost materialize. She was smirking, as if she was enjoying Caroline's butt-based bewilderment.

"Everything OK?" Cole asked.

"Yeah, that canvas, the one you offered to reframe?" Caroline said, jerking her thumb toward the kitchen. "Have you seen it?"

Cole grimaced. "Not since the day I broke the frame, like a jackass."

"It's fine," she assured him. "It's not like we found out it was an heirloom or anything. I just can't find it in the junk box."

"Huh." Cole climbed down from the ladder, wiping his hands on a bandana in his back pocket. "I haven't seen it."

While this was weird, Caroline wasn't sure that panic was in order just yet. The painting being missing didn't necessarily mean someone stole it. The purple-lady ghost could have moved it through sheer evil determination. Or hell, it was equally possible one of her brothers could have used it as scrap paper. She was frowning in the direction of the basement entrance when Cole spoke. "So I was thinking, there are other bars in this town, besides yours. And maybe we could go to one of them and have a drink? Consider it market research."

His smile was so warm and friendly. It was clear and definite, while everything with Ben was so murky and uncertain.

Caroline told him, "I appreciate the invitation, Cole, but I'm…"

She didn't know how to define it. Hopeful elsewhere? Desperately seeking closure? Horny and nostalgic? None of those sounded good. She had feelings for Ben, deep, resounding, complicated, messy feelings. And even that wasn't enough to scare her off.

"It's Ben, huh?" Cole asked kindly.

"Yes," she said, sounding more sure than she felt. "At least, I hope so?"

Cole shrugged. "Well, everybody talks about the two of you like you're the Romeo and Juliet of Starfall Point, with a slightly less tragic ending."

"Only slightly," Caroline said.

Cole's grin was one of good-natured disappointment, sending a little thrill of relief through her belly. "Well, good luck then. But if he messes up, give me a call."

She laughed. "Thanks."

"I can't even hate him because he's so nice," Cole huffed.

"He really is, isn't he?" she said, throwing her hands up.

"It's the worst," Cole said, laughing as Mina and Gert walked out of the kitchen. Gert's hand was on Mina's shoulder, a rare gesture from someone who didn't hand out affection easily.

"I think we've done all we can today," Gert announced. "Cole, you about done for the day?"

Cole glanced up at the drying ceiling. "Sure."

"I'm making olive burgers for dinner, if any of you are hungry," Gert said.

Cole seemed pleased by Gert's offer. "Oh, that's nice, thanks!"

"What the heck is an olive burger?" Mina asked, shuddering.

"You take ground beef, mix it with chopped olives, brine, and mayo. And then make burgers," Gert told her. "You don't have that back in Arizona?"

"No, why would you do that to an innocent hamburger?" Mina gasped, making Gert cackle.

"Thanks," Caroline told her. "But Mina and I have plans with Riley."

"You're heading up to Shaddow House?" Gert asked, frowning. "Again? What do you do up there?"

Caroline smirked. "Oh, play albums backward, try to summon the spirit of Jim Morrison."

Best to lean into the worst expectations and play them off like a joke, rather than make some lame excuse about board games and movie nights.

"Wait, who's Jim Morrison?" Mina asked, frowning at her.

"Your father has failed you," Caroline informed her.

"Well, there's no reason to be a smart-ass," Gert shot back.

"I hope that's not true," Caroline said, kissing her cheek. "I'll see you later. Bye, Cole!"

Cole waved them off while Gert helped him lock up. Mina helped Caroline walk toward home. "Your ankle is killing you, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," Caroline admitted.

"And yet, you stood on it for hours, helping your mom clean. Has anyone every told you that you have a little bit of a martyr complex?"

Caroline nodded grimly. "Yes, they have."

"Also, we have plans with Riley?" Mina asked.

"Do you want to eat olive burgers?" Caroline asked.

Mina made a gagging face. "No, I do not."

They walked along, Caroline gritting her teeth with every step. She distracted herself, saying, "So you're taking this whole magic thing in stride, all things considered."

"When I touched your hand, that first time, in the clinic," Mina said. "I felt that weird electric zap. It was the same thing I felt when I stepped onto the island for the first time. Well, when we moved here. I don't know what it felt like when we visited when we were babies. You know, before, when my grandparents were alive? My mom hated it. Didn't like visiting when we couldn't even enjoy ourselves like tourists. Anyway, I guess that was magic, from the start. Weird."

"And you just accept it?" Caroline asked.

Mina gave her a look that was almost pitying. "My generation has dealt with the existence of the internet and the dwindling polar ice caps since birth. Why would magic be so out of the question?"

"Good point," Caroline conceded.

"It's different for Josh, and I'm worried about him," Mina said. "I don't think he likes being left behind. He likes being able to hear the ghosts, but it's hard for him, seeing me doing more. I don't want him to feel like he's alone, you know?"

"Well, that's what the coven is good for," Caroline told her. "You never feel alone."

"Have you heard anything from the purple-lady ghost lately?" Mina asked suddenly.

"No, she's just lurking in corners. It feels like she's sulking a little bit," Caroline said.

"Me, too. Weird," Mina mused.

"Most things are when it comes to ghosts," Caroline told her.

When they reached Shaddow House, Josh burst out of the front door and bounded down the stairs to help Caroline up.

"I'm all right. I'm all right," Caroline assured Josh as he hustled her up by her elbows.

"Yeah, but Dad's inside and if he sees you limping like that and walking up the steps, you're in for a forcible ice pack and a lecture," Josh replied.

Caroline nodded quickly. "Good call."

Ben was waiting inside, talking with Riley. While Riley seemed content, Plover was standing nearby, giving Ben a decided stink eye. Ben, however, seemed distracted, and a little agitated.

"Hi, Riley!" Mina called, coming into the house. She curtsied to the butler. "Mr. Plover."

Plover bowed. "Miss Mina."

"Everything OK?" Caroline asked.

"I was just explaining to Plover that while I respect the need for privacy and secrecy at Shaddow House, I am pretty firm on my plans to have a security camera pointing at your backyard," Ben told her.

"I'm actually pretty excited about this plan. It would have been super helpful last year," Riley said.

"I am still…unenthusiastic," Plover said, frowning.

"And I understand that," Ben replied. "But I have to put the needs of the living people I care about over the demands of the dead."

Plover pinched his lips closed, though he was staring at Mina, Caroline, and Riley. "All right, then."

"Good, then it's settled." Ben reached out to shake Plover's hand. Realizing that was corporeally impossible, he frowned. "Sorry."

"And while Mr. Plover and Dad were negotiating, I was just studying ‘ghostly communication skills' with Riley," Josh said, slinging a backpack over his shoulder.

"No fair!" Mina huffed.

"Well, I didn't run a human being down with a small personal motor vehicle," Josh countered. "So, my work schedule is a little more flexible."

"Fiiiiine," she sighed, rolling her eyes. "Can I come over tomorrow, Riley? I have the day off."

Riley nodded. "Um, sure."

"And I better get these two home and fed, otherwise, people in authority start making calls." Ben kissed Caroline quickly, with a casual air that made her heart quiver. Had they arrived there so quickly? These thoughtless gestures of affection?

And then he followed it up with a deeper, longer kiss that made her knees do this weird wobbly jelly thing. When she finally came up for air and managed to focus both eyes, she saw Mina and Josh exchange meaningful looks. But they didn't seem upset. Caroline chose to see that as a positive sign.

"Elevate that ankle and stay off of it," Ben told her as he hustled the kids out the door. "I saw you limping."

"Told you!" Josh crowed as he walked out.

"Spirited, but very polite young people," Plover announced with approval, smiling after them.

"Hi, everybody! I came as soon as I could close the shop." Alice came through the front door, all smiles until she took in Riley's unsettled expression. "Riley, are you OK?"

Riley's eyes were wide, and she was sinking onto the bottom step. "I don't know what to do. The kids are always at the house. They don't ever seem to want to leave. They're just here . All the time."

Alice looked to Plover, who shook his head. "Well, if they're annoying you, just send them back home to Ben. I'm sure he would understand. He's a loving father, but he's not one of those ‘smiles beatifically while his children damage valuable items' fathers."

"Speaking from shop experience?" Caroline asked. Alice arched a brow and nodded.

Riley threw her hands up. "They're not being annoying. That's the thing. They're actually delightful company. They're smart. They're helpful. They clean up after themselves, which I never expected. It's just…that they want to spend time with me."

Caroline gasped, all fake indignation. "Those little bastards." Plover's gasp was real, so she added, "Sorry, Plover. Just a joke. Look, this is normal, developmentally speaking. They're seeking you out as a cool older person."

"And that alone, I find suspect. I don't know how to handle it!" Riley exclaimed. "I was summarily rejected by pretty much every member of my family, including my mom and…in some instances, my dad, though that was more of a matter of indirect convenience because my half siblings refused to see him if I was around. I don't know how to handle people who seek my company intentionally. People who aren't you, Alice, Edison, or a bunch of dead people."

Caroline tilted her head, staring at Riley, prompting her to exclaim, "They're calling me ‘Aunt Riley'!"

"I think that's very sweet," Caroline told her.

"OK, but what do I do? Everything I learned about intergenerational relationships comes from my extremely unhealthy repressed family dynamic or after-school specials!" Riley exclaimed.

"Riley, they're just people," Caroline told her. "Just talk to them like they're people. Terrifying and incredibly smart people, who will outlive us by about ten, twenty years. I mean, between the two of us, I should probably be more afraid of them. If things progress with Ben, they could just decide they don't want me around, which is a valid choice. Then, I lose the relationship with Ben and with them. And worse, if they do want me around, I could end up being a stepmom. Oh…oh, wait." Caroline swallowed heavily and suddenly, giving Riley an imploring look. "That's terrifying. What if I'm a bad one? Like in one of the fairy tales? I don't want to end up wearing red-hot iron shoes and dancing at Mina's wedding."

"It's possible you're getting ahead of yourself," Alice told her.

"You could also choose not to be an asshole to two innocent children," Riley added. "That is always an option."

"I don't know if people go into those relationships planning to be an asshole, and that's what so scary about it! What if my intentions are good and I still end up hurting them?" Caroline asked.

"Well, I'm still…undecided about the kids issue," Riley said. "And I feel unqualified to give you advice, but I guess the best thing I can tell you is that you're one of the most thoughtful, deliberate people I know. If you approach this relationship, reminding yourself of how much you love Ben and how much you don't want to hurt them, I think you'll manage it."

"It's not a bad thing, to gather people who like you, especially if you like them in return," Alice told them both. "Some people might even call that a family ."

"Point taken." Riley's lips tilted, and she put her chin on Caroline's shoulder. Alice patted their shoulders. "Thanks, you two."

"It's what we do," Alice said.

"So, on to less fraught matters. What are our plans for the evening?" Alice asked.

"I think we should break into Clark Graves's office," Riley said, reaching into a nearby credenza and pulling out three gray woolen ski masks.

"Oh, sure, I don't have anything to do tonight," Caroline said, nodding. "Wait, what?"

***

They decided to be a little more methodical about their breaking and entering this time. They waited until dark, wore dark clothes, and carried gloves in their pockets. They had drinks at a McPartin's, a tourist-oriented Irish pub across the street from Clark's, watching the lights blink out of the windows one by one.

"Why are we doing this again?" Alice asked, sipping her bubbly water. She was pale and a little twitchy, but that seemed normal before one committed burglary for a second time in a few months. Fortunately, the locals had learned to accept slightly odd behavior from the three of them since they started spending time together. Caroline's heart was warmed, knowing that people seemed happy that Alice had found friends, but she found she didn't particularly like being written off as one of the town's many eccentrics.

Riley took a long drink from her cider. "Because Clark's been too quiet lately. And I don't trust that. I've thought about doing this for a while, plus there was something Ben said, when he was at the house earlier. About Clark approaching him to move out of Gray Fern and find some newer, fancier house on the island so the property management company can rent out Ben's place for the season. Why would he push that so hard, unless he was planning something, using Gray Fern as a base?"

"He's hassling Ben and the kids?" Caroline frowned. "Yep, gloves are coming off."

"Were the gloves ever on?" Alice asked. Caroline snorted.

"So you and Ben, huh?" Riley grinned.

"I wouldn't have thought it would happen again in a million years, but somehow… Maybe?" Caroline said, staring at the motion of the staff behind the bar—fluid and unhurried.

"It's driving you nuts, drinking at someone else's bar, isn't it?" Riley asked.

"Yeah, because it's better-run than ours," Caroline griped, watching the easy way the waitresses moved between tables, handing off much-needed items and cooperating in a way that the Wiltons never quite managed.

"Shouldn't we tell somebody?" Caroline asked. "Warn people that one of the few lawyers on the island is a criminal mastermind?"

"We've talked about this. What are we going to do?" Riley asked. "Go to the police and complain that Clark used his position as my lawyer to orchestrate a break-in at my house to steal my haunted tchotchkes?"

"I wouldn't lead with that," Alice murmured. "Also, your hypothetical calls to the authorities are becoming pointedly sarcastic."

Caroline asked, "Is there some sort of magic we can do to, I don't know, bind his actions? His intentions? Track his location like a magical ‘Find My Friends'?"

"I think we're treading some pretty precarious magical waters here," Riley said. "We have to keep our intentions pure or they're going to bounce back on us times three."

"So. No giving him a magical rash, got it," Caroline grumbled.

***

The hours passed and the lights winked off across the street at Tanner, Moscovitz, and Graves. The ladies turned their heads away from the window as Clark stepped out of the front door and locked it behind him. They waited another hour to make sure that Clark wasn't going to come back for a forgotten file or something and then one by one left the table, taking different routes to end up behind the law office, at the back door. They each had already pulled on their ski masks, just in case Clark had security cameras they hadn't spotted so far.

Riley's "rich and colorful work history" career had led to a diverse array of skills, including lock picking. The back door offered her little challenge, which honestly made Caroline worry for Clark's clients. They listened for any noise in response to their entering, but nothing. They moved through the darkness, careful to stay away from the windows as they passed through the door marked Clark Graves, Esq.

There were a few "ghost pings" hitting Caroline's system from around the perfectly nice, if boring office done in navy and cream. They seemed to be attached to a few antiques on the desk, and the brass clothes horse in the corner. But the ghosts were distant, and sort of sad—as if they, too, were bored by hanging around Clark's office.

Alice hung back as Caroline and Riley quietly rifled through the contents of his desk. Riley knelt in front of the locked right-hand drawer, tools at the ready.

"This looks familiar," Caroline whispered, holding up a notepad with the firm's griffin logo on it. A piece of that logo had been included on a fragment of a note Kyle had left behind at Shaddow House after he'd broken in.

"Bingo," Riley whispered as the drawer gave way. Riley's fingers danced across the top of the files. She pulled one marked, "Gray Fern." Instead of boring paperwork involving rental agreements, Riley pulled out printed photos of Shaddow House clearly taken from the upper floors of Gray Fern Cottage. None of the photos included anything terribly interesting. Riley walking into the house. Edison walking out in the morning. Strange shadowy figures in the windows, but nothing exciting enough to post on the internet as proof of the afterlife !

"Why the hell is he printing copies?" Caroline scoffed. "What is he, seventy?"

"Digital fingerprints are harder to destroy?" Riley guessed.

"Well, the fact that he's surveilling Shaddow House shows this is about more than just a property management dispute over Gray Fern," said Alice, her ski mask still in place.

"He's got to be working for the Wellings," Riley wondered aloud. "I mean, why else would he be so interested in Shaddow House?"

Behind them, the light switch flicked on. Caroline froze.

Shit.

Clark was standing in the doorway, smirking. "Oh, girls, this is not going to look good when I call Celia at the precinct to report that the three of you broke into my office."

"Really? You're going to tell on us?" Riley pulled her mask up. She sat in Clark's desk chair, fluffing her mussed hair, as if this wasn't a terrifying turn of events. "We've been worrying about you potentially being this big bad supervillain, and your response is to tattle ? I'm almost disappointed."

Caroline took her own mask off, because what was the point? Poor Alice stood frozen, her uncovered neck gone ghastly pale.

And yet, Riley still seemed bored with the whole thing. Caroline supposed this was what came with living with dead people; Clark didn't seem like much of a threat.

"No, wait, scratch that," Riley said. "I'm glad I have this opportunity because I want to tell you what an absolute dick you are—lying to my aunt like you did, trying to trick her, take advantage of her. And the only consolation I get from the whole thing is that she was smarter than you. She knew something was off about you. She never let you in the house. She never trusted you completely, so all your smarmy bullshit maneuvering didn't work. You were outwitted by a septuagenarian. Congratulations. You suck at life and being a supervillain."

"Oh, Riley." Clark's grin was sharp and smarmy. "I'm flattered you see me as that much of a hazard, but I'm just a small part of the bigger battle. I'm a contractor, the help. Oh, no, don't frown like that. I've never been too proud to admit it. I don't care about the living or the dead. I care about getting paid. You need to worry about that big picture because it's coming into focus, faster than you can even imagine. And I have a feeling you're not going to like what you see."

"Oh my god, this metaphor is getting labored," Riley muttered, managing to sound bored.

"You don't need to worry about me," Clark said. "You need to worry about that big picture. You need to worry about the inside threat, the rat in the silo, gnawing away at you. You're not going to know what hit you, and it's going to hurt."

Caroline swallowed heavily. What could Clark mean? Who could hurt them like that from the inside? One of their own family members? Her mother? One of her brothers? She couldn't think of anything they could know or do that would damage their efforts at Shaddow House. Though Caroline guessed that was the whole point of "not going to know what hit you."

Riley, though, didn't show a moment's doubt on her face, simply smiling at him. Which seemed to piss Clark off.

"Go ahead and grin," he hissed at her, pulling his phone out of his pocket. "You fucking witches, thinking you're all so smart. Your bitch aunt, lording it over me, thinking that I had to dance to her tune."

"Easy there, speaking ill of the dead," Riley told him blithely. "You say I should look at the big picture? You're missing a couple of things yourself."

She pointed upward, and Clark followed her hand motion, finally realizing that the letter opener—a pretty little pewter piece with a mother of pearl handle—was floating near his face. He blanched as he backed away. He didn't dare reach up to grab it as the point was aimed directly at his eye. He retreated until he fell back against a nearby chair, tumbling into the seat.

Riley rounded the desk and leaned closer. "For one thing, we're not the only ones who have something to lose here. We have proof, concrete proof, that you paid Kyle to break into my house for the sole purpose of stealing from me. Not like this little late-night visit that could be misconstrued as us having an urgent legal matter and not understanding your business hours."

"I thought the office had a public back entrance," Caroline said, her eyes wide and intentionally guileless. "How were we to know Clark wasn't here?"

"What?" Clark scoffed. "Kyle would never think to keep—what do you have?"

"Why would I tell you that?" Riley laughed. "I have enough to at the very least, get you disbarred."

"Oh, now Riley, play fair!" Clark exclaimed.

Riley brought her arm down, and the letter opener plummeted toward his chair. Clark's legs parted just in time for the blade to dig into the wood between his thighs. "The time for fair play and worrying about feelings is at an end. Am I clear?"

Clark swallowed thickly and nodded. "Crystal."

"We'll leave out the front," Riley said, smiling at him. She stopped to pull Alice gently toward the door.

"Did you really just reverse-Uno-card blackmail him?" Caroline said.

Riley frowned. "Not really sure. It was my first time blackmailing someone."

"Well, you did great," Caroline told her.

Alice was pale, her hands trembling as they pushed the door open.

"Hey, are you OK?" Caroline asked. "Clark was probably just talking out of his ass, trying to sow discord."

"It just got a little scary for a minute there, more physical than I expected. Good thing that letter opener was haunted," Alice whispered.

"We probably could have used some warning you were going to stab his chair," Caroline noted. "You scared the hell out of me."

Riley pouted slightly, muttering, "I wasn't aiming for his chair."