“Right here.” She stood in the open door. “I thought I’ll ask you first if I can bring Mrs. Miniver and Mr. Chips inside.”
“Of course, that is, could you take off your cape first?”
Ange appeared taken aback.
“I want to touch your mehndi. If Skye’s been here, I should be able to feel it.”
“Right. The personal touch.” She flung her cape onto the bed.
I traced the henna design on her skin with the tip of my finger until it tingled. I stopped and covered the mehndi with my palm. As with Candice, I saw Skye, wielding her henna brush. I let my senses roam. No; Skye hadn’t been here either.
My broomstick rolled a few inches as Ange rose to fetch the dogs. I stopped her. “That yarrow plant. Does it grow here?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if there are patches of it in the woods behind us.”
My skin prickled. “Is it possible for us to go and find it?”
“Tonight?” Ange asked.
“Yes.”
“We’ve got flashlights enough for all of us,” Harper said. “The moonlight should also help, if Ange can identify the plant in the dark?”
“I’m not Bex but any half decent Wiccan can sniff out yarrow like a truffle hound.” Ange wrinkled her nose.
Chapter 25
With the dogs on a leash and flashlights in our hands we set out. The young receptionist was outside too, smoking a cigarette smelling like honeysuckle and clove. He gawked at us, with our pointy hats and capes which were not exactly made for a nightly excursion in the wilderness.
“Blessed be,” I called out to him.
“Thank you, good sister. Where are you heading? Not that it’s my business, I, like, just want to make sure I can send help if you get lost.”
“Aren’t you sweet?” Ange thoroughly enjoyed herself. “We’re off to pick a few flowers, bathed in moonlight, for our spells.”
He gave us a thumbs up. “Cool. Just knock on my door when you’re back, or I’ll head out for you if you’re not back in an hour or so.”
“Is your reception open that late?” I filed away that information. Maybe he could shed a light on Tim’s movements during his stay at the motel. According to their bookings, he’d spent his last night on earth in room 7.
“It depends if we have guests arriving late. I live here, and so does my pa, which makes it easy to take care of the business.”
“It must be nice to live and work with your family.”
“I guess so. He’s on vacation this month, so it’s only me. I’m in number 2, alright?”
“We’ll knock,” Reina said, and off we danced, with our hats bobbing, just your average middle-aged eccentric gals having fun.
Which we had. The beam of our flashlights flitted across the ground. Soft moss and lichen covered gnarly roots, and damp branches brushed against our bodies.
“Stop, before you touch the poison oak bush on our right,” Ange warned us.
We did. Or rather, Harper and Reina did.
I tripped over a tree root, fell over, and landed with my outstretched hands hitting a puddle. Mud splatter hit my face. My witch hat and wig slipped forward.
“Are you okay?” Harper pulled me upright.
I spit out a bit of mud that had landed in my opened mouth and righted my headwear. “Only dirty, that’s all.”
