Page 21 of A Charming Touch of Tarot (The Gin & Tarot Club #2)

21

The Moon…Reversed

I wake up in a cold sweat, the remnants of the dream I just had still clinging to my mind like cobwebs. It felt so vivid, so real. Mrs. Fields, my quirky neighbor, was wandering through the night, peering into windows and snatching ornaments off neighbors’ yards while they slept.

Eventually, she returned to her house, almost in a trancelike state, depositing her stolen treasures in her garage like some sort of shrine to her nocturnal thievery.

It was unsettling, to say the least.

Shaking off the icky feeling, I leave the bed and head to the kitchen, craving the comfort of a cup of coffee.

I shoot off a quick text to Ava, checking in on her. I’ve spoken to her every day since she left, but the past couple of days it’s all been via text. She’s got her head down, diligently working on her piece for the spring showcase. She still has two months, but I’m told the project is massive.

It’s all she’ll give me. The whole thing is meant to be a huge surprise to everyone outside of the school, and Ava’s done her part in keeping her lips zipped.

“Whatcha thinking about?” Isla says, catching me off guard.

I whip my head over my shoulder and heave a breath. “Where have you been?”

She snickers. “Around. Mostly just watching like a creep. Not much else to do since you keep wandering off and leaving me here.”

“I’m sorry. I’ve had some important stuff going on with a friend, and I had to concentrate on her. Having…”

“A ghost around isn’t conducive to life?” she says, smiling to show she’s playing with me. “I get it. I’m just ready to be somewhere else.”

I run both hands down my face, feeling terrible that Isla is stuck sitting around while the rest of us go about life. It’s not fair that she wants to move on and can’t.

“I’ll talk to Nick,” I vow. “I’m not sure how it’ll go, but I’ll do what I can to get him on board with helping you.”

Her face lights up, and she wiggles in place. “He’s home now. No better time to send the spirit home.” Her hands are lifted into the air, and she shimmies her hips.

I chuckle at her antics. “I said I’ll discuss it with him, but I can’t promise it’ll happen today.” I hold her stare. “Please be patient with me.”

She sucks her teeth, rolling her eyes heavenward. “Fine. I’ll calm myself down and prepare to be stuck looking at these walls a bit longer.”

I glance out the window and find that she’s right; Nick’s car is in the driveway. It’s a sight I haven’t seen since returning from Florida. He’s been stuck in Falls Haven, working closely with the local detective and FBI.

Now that there’s a double homicide in the small town, both too similar to ignore, they’ve brought in the feds.

I quickly shoot him a text, suggesting lunch at Milly’s Diner.

Nick

Good morning, beautiful.

A smile spreads across my face as I lift my arms into the air, stretching out the kinks.

“What did he say?” she asks, clapping her hands, looking far too giddy.

I wave her off with my hand, watching the bubbles on the screen that tell he’s typing.

Nick

You’re speaking my language. Milly’s it is.

What time?

Me

Eleven?

He agrees to eleven, saying he’ll meet me there because he has to head back to Falls Haven afterward. It’s just as well, because I need to stop into Marmalade and Rye to check on Mrs. Hampson. The last time I ran into her, she alluded to needing my specific set of skills for a private matter, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious about that.

“Wanna join Nick and I at Milly’s?” I ask, thinking it can’t hurt to have her tag along for a public date.

She bobs her head animatedly. “Heck yeah. Let’s go.”

At exactly eleven on the dot, I step into Milly’s, greeted by the familiar chime of the bell announcing my arrival. Scanning the room, I spot Nick seated in a booth at the back. He acknowledges me with a lifted chin and a grin, causing a flutter in my chest. It’s surreal to think that he’s here just for me.

“Aww look at that. He’s got it bad,” Isla says, with no amount of bitterness evident. “He looks good. Happy,” she says, a smile in her voice.

She isn’t wrong. He does look good.

Nick is my dream. His salt-and-pepper hair adds a touch of sophistication to his rugged allure. With a strong jawline, straight nose, and impeccably sculpted features, he’s effortlessly captivating.

He exudes an undeniable confidence that leaves me speechless every time I’m in his presence. But it’s his dimples—oh, those dimples—that could melt even the coldest of hearts. They make my knees weak and my belly flop like a teenager’s.

He possesses a presence that commands attention, yet there’s a softness in his gaze that belies his tough exterior, making him all the more irresistible. It’s as if he stepped right off the pages of a magazine, bringing my ideal man to life.

“Hi, Alyssa,” Christine calls from her computer. “You can sit anywhere.”

“She’s with me.” Nick’s husky voice rings through the small space, drawing the attention of every local in Milly’s.

They all share curious glances, and I know without a doubt the rumor mill will be going strong later today.

“Uh-oh…you just went Knox Harbor official. That’s about to be front page,” Isla teases.

Christine, ever the romantic, flashes me a wide grin before playfully winking and giving a thumbs-up. Suppressing a laugh, I return her smile and stride over to join Nick.

“Have you been here long?” I ask, removing my coat and taking a seat across from him.

He shakes his head. “Nah. Just got here.”

Isla takes a seat next to him, and I see his shoulders shake a bit.

“It’s cold in here,” he says, but I don’t comment.

It’s not cold; it was his reaction to Isla. He just doesn’t know it.

“What can I get you to drink?” Christine says, placing a cup of coffee in front of Nick.

“I’ll have one of those.” I motion toward the mug. “Maybe bring a whole carafe. I could use it today.”

“God, do I miss coffee,” Isla groans. “Nothing better.”

Christine nods, her ponytail bobbing as she turns away. “Coffee coming right up,” she chirps, disappearing behind the counter.

“Didn’t sleep well?” Nick’s concern is evident as he studies my face.

“I had a bizarre dream. That’s all,” I reply, shrugging my shoulders nonchalantly. “Mrs. Fields was wandering around at night, snatching things from people’s yards and putting the stuff in her garage.”

Nick lifts an eyebrow, his interest piqued as he takes a sip of his coffee.

“It was strange,” I continue, my brow furrowing in concentration. “Garden gnomes, angels, a wreath…” I trail off, trying to recall the details. “And a Christmas sleigh.”

Nick’s eyes widen as he splutters slightly. “A sleigh?”

I nod firmly. “Yes, a sleigh. I told you—it was strange.”

“What did the sleigh look like?” Nick leans forward.

I pause, my mind replaying the dream. “It was red, with gold stenciling along the sides,” I say, my voice trailing off uncertainly.

Nick’s head shakes and he whistles. “That’s the exact description Patty Phillips gave me of her missing Christmas sleigh. What’re the odds?”

I purse my lips, considering the possibility that this dream could be like the last.

“A sleigh’s a sleigh,” I say, shrugging my shoulders.

“Yet, a dream is never just a dream with you,” he says playfully, but I hear the hint of truth in his voice.

“Oh my god. I have butterflies,” Isla says dreamily. “Can ghosts have those?” She purses her lips and taps her chin.

I ignore her, focused in on what Nick’s just said.

“You don’t think…” I allow my words to trail off, not wanting to embarrass myself by assuming Nick truly thinks the missing items in the neighborhood could’ve been Mrs. Fields’s doing.

“Never say never,” he says. “I’ll check in on her. Doesn’t hurt to stop by.”

“There’s a lot going on these days around here,” he says, placing his cup down and intertwining his fingers. “Break-ins, theft…murder.” He shakes his head on a huff. “Chelsea and Sierra may have been killed in Falls Haven, but they’re both from Knox Harbor. That can’t be a coincidence.”

I offer a sad, tight-lipped smile. “No, I don’t suppose it is,” I admit. I lean forward, not wanting to be overheard. “I think they’re involved with a group called the Order of Providence.”

His eyes narrow, and he bites the bottom corner of his lip, appearing to mull that over.

“What gives you that impression?” he finally asks.

I have to think about that for a moment, compiling all that’s happened leading me down that path.

“The combination of what Chelsea’s ghost showed me, mixed with my dream about Sierra. That’s when I first saw the symbol. I wouldn’t have thought about that again, but it’s likely not happenstance that it popped up again at Montgomery Estate.”

He nods. “Then there’s the fact that Sierra had that tattoo behind her ear too.”

My head jerks back. “What? She did?”

He sucks on his teeth, nodding his head.

“What about Chelsea?”

“She didn’t. But they were friends. Whatever Sierra was into, she likely roped Chelsea in too.”

I exhale heavily, feeling a pang of sadness for the girls. They were too young to be caught up in something dangerous enough to lead to their deaths.

“Wow,” Isla states. “There was truth to these secret societies after all.”

My eyes narrow in on Isla, and I want to ask her what she’s talking about, but refrain because of where we are. Thankfully, she gets the hint that I’m curious and continues.

“My brother always said that the people running drugs through Knox Harbor were part of a much bigger organization. Something like Illuminati.” She shrugs. “I always thought he was just talking nonsense. Maybe not.”

Interesting.

So this society might have roots here. If they do, Nick will uncover them.

The conversation shifts to Nick’s family, and my heart warms as he shares stories about them. His niece just turned one, and he recounts the celebration they had over the weekend. I met his sister only briefly, but I know without a doubt we’ll get along well. I can sense the love he holds for his family. It’s evident in the way his smile never fades when he speaks of them, and in the sparkle in his eyes as he talks about his niece, Zoey. The entire time he talks, Isla is focused on his words, smiling so wide.

You can tell she cared deeply for all of them too. Even if she didn’t know Zoey, she looks like a proud aunt.

We’ve just cashed out and are heading toward the exit when Nick grabs my hand. There’s a collective sigh behind me, signaling that Milly’s patrons have all been watching us. No doubt they’re preparing their stories to spread far and wide the moment they leave the restaurant. Just as Isla said.

That’s Knox Harbor for you. Small towns thrive on gossip, but they live for romance.

Nick’s grip on my hand tightens, and he looks down at me, a smirk playing on his lips. “I guess I made a statement today.”

“Yeah ya did,” Isla says from behind us, sounding like our own little cheer squad, but I don’t turn around, wanting to capture this moment with Nick.

Those dimples pop, and my breath hitches. I inhale, pulling myself together so that when I speak, my voice remains steady despite the effect this man has on me.

I grin, and nod once. “It’s official, West. You’re off the market and likely walking down the aisle this afternoon.”

He throws his head back and laughs, knowing that I’m only teasing. I think we’re both on the same page about where we are in our relationship.

I come to a stop in front of Marmalade and Rye, ready to part ways.

“I’m going to head in and see Matilda,” I say, nodding my head toward the store. “She needs my help with something.”

“I have some time. I’ll come with you,” he says, pulling us toward the door.

My feet dig in, and Nick turns to me with a blank look.

“You really don’t have to come with me. It’ll be boring for you.”

Nick lifts an eyebrow. “Are you trying to ditch me, Lyss?”

I take a deep breath, feeling my cheeks puff out slightly, then exhale slowly, biting my lower lip in contemplation. “Maybe?”

He chuckles. “What are you and Tilda up to exactly?”

I heave a heavy sigh, recognizing that if I’m going to tell him what’s happening, he might as well come with me.

“Let’s go,” I say, pulling him into the shop.

Matilda Hampson is decked out in her typical blue pantsuit, silver hair pinned up in a tight French twist.

“Man, these people never change, do they?” Isla says, taking Matilda in.

“Alyssa,” Matilda calls, flouncing toward us. “And Nicholas. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

He looks down at me and shrugs. “I’m here with her.”

She tilts her head, her expression thoughtful. “With her…interesting,” she muses aloud, then turns to me. “Can I speak freely?”

I glance up at Nick, moistening my lips nervously, waiting for some sign that he won’t bolt out of here.

“Pretend I’m not even here,” he says, flashing me a reassuring smile.

I turn back to Matilda. “What can I help you with?”

She nods eagerly, holding up a hand and hurrying toward the back.

“Should we follow her?” Nick asks, and I shrug uncertainly.

Less than a minute later, she’s scurrying toward us with what looks like a wand of sage gripped in her hand.

“What the hell is that?” Nick whispers.

“Sage,” Matilda says, having heard him. “For cleansing the area.”

“Do you think that could move me along too?” Isla asks, hope lacing every word.

I grimace, shaking my head just enough that nobody else should notice.

Isla’s smile disappears and she harrumphs, placing her hands over her chest.

Nick grunts, and I look up in time to see his eyes close in a pained expression.

“I know I said to pretend I wasn’t here, but I really have to suggest you not light that in here,” Nick says. “It’s a fire hazard and a code violation. You’re in town, and the whole of Main Street could light up like a torch if this goes wrong.”

Matilda brushes off his concerns with a wave of her hand. “You don’t need to be crazy to be smart, but you need to be a little smart to be crazy.”

“What does that have to do with this situation?” Nick asks, looking between Matilda and me.

“Eccentric ways are called for in this situation, Nicholas. We’ll be fine.” She turns to me. “Do you know what to do with this?”

“Yes,” I say, tilting my head to the side. “But I can sense that you do too. So why call on me?”

Matilda straightens, placing one hand on her hip. “One hand is not enough to catch a flea,” she says, gritting her teeth and lifting both eyebrows skyward. It’s clear she’s trying to relay that the flea is in fact a ghost, without using those words.

“Got it,” I say, holding my hand out for her to pass over the sage. “Nick, since you are law enforcement, would you be willing to wield the sage for us?”

He rubs at his full bottom lip, inspecting the sage like it’s a weapon of mass destruction, eventually reaching out to take the bundle.

From Matilda’s back pocket she pulls a grill lighter, large enough to get the sage burning hot.

“Follow us and wave the sage in the air, making sure to cleanse all the items,” Matilda instructs Nick. “I’m unsure what brought the unruly spirit into my space.”

I can’t help but stifle a laugh as Nick reluctantly waves the sage bundle in the air, his eyes bugged out like a startled rabbit. Matilda stands beside him, chanting in a language that sounds like a mix of ancient incantations and gibberish, while Isla, unbeknownst to anyone but me, dances in and out of the smoke, holding onto hope that the sage will send her on.

“To the window, to the wall,” I say under my breath, drawing a deep chuckle from Nick and a look of confusion from Isla.

“What was that?” Matilda asks, looking over her shoulder.

“Never mind,” I say, smothering my laughter. “Please continue.”

She purses her lips. “I need you to repeat after me, Alyssa. Otherwise, this won’t work.”

I bob my head in understanding.

“ Spiritus qui intra haec parietes habitant, non gratus estis ,” she calls out.

I join in with the chanting as best as I can, trying to keep a straight face, because I have to admit I’m not entirely sure what I’m saying.

Nick’s dimples are on display as he bites his lower lip. He’s getting too much enjoyment out of this.

We continue to move around the room, periodically speaking in what I now recognize as Latin.

Nick’s discomfort is unmistakable, his movements awkward and stiff as he follows Matilda’s lead. He shoots me a pleading glance, silently begging me to end this bizarre ritual. But I can’t help but enjoy the absurdity of the situation, especially seeing Nick, the epitome of stoicism, being dragged into the world of spiritual cleansing.

She stops in the middle of the store, head tilted toward the ceiling, hands raised out to the sides. “Spirits who dwell within these walls, you are not welcome.” She turns to me. “It is done.”

“What? Nothing happened,” Isla says, irritation clear in her tone. “Nothing was even here. The kook has lost it.”

Nick and I breathe a collective sigh of relief that it’s over, watching as Matilda lifts a vintage tin canister up toward Nick. He drops the sage bundle like it’s a hot potato, his expression a mixture of relief and humor. She quickly moves to the back with the tin and sage, leaving Nick and I alone in the shop.

I can’t help but burst into laughter, the tension of the moment dissipating in the ridiculousness of it all.

Nick shakes his head, a wry smile playing on his lips as he looks at me. “Remind me never to let you drag me into anything like this again.”

I grin, feeling a sense of camaraderie between us. “I gave you an out.” I shrug one shoulder, pursing my lips.

“Alyssa,” he drawls, grinning as he moves toward me.

He pulls me into his chest, and I look up into his eyes, sighing contentedly.

“Deal. But admit it—you secretly loved every minute.”

Nick rolls his eyes, but there’s a twinkle of amusement in them. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s just hope we haven’t invited something to attach to us.”

I feign shock, lightly swatting at his chest. “Nick West, are you turning into a believer in the supernatural? Embracing the unexplainable?”

He smirks, pulling me in closer and placing a kiss on my forehead. “I believe in you.”

I melt into him, basking in his words and the warmth of his body.

His earlier words soak in.

Let’s just hope we haven’t invited something to attach to us.

Nothing out of the ordinary happened during the cleansing. But his former fiancée is here and well and truly attached. I know I need to broach that topic, for her, but I also don’t want to ruin the moment.

I step out of Nick’s embrace, glancing around the room. Isla is nowhere to be seen, but Matilda materializes, holding something in her hand. She seems visibly relieved, which should soothe my unease, but it doesn’t.

“In gratitude,” she says, presenting me with a Turkish bowl. It matches the set I bought earlier in the year. It’s now back with Gloria Craft.

“Thank you, Mrs. Hampson.”

“Matilda,” she corrects. “And thank you. The space feels lighter.”

“This isn’t necessary,” I say, holding up the bowl. “I’m concerned it didn’t work. Nothing happened…”

She lets out a breath. “You don’t feel that?”

I make a face, shaking my head. “Feel what exactly?”

“The heaviness is gone. Whatever entity it was, it left.” She takes a step toward me, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Not every cleanse will result in a show. Most ghosts aren’t trying to fight to stay.”

I narrow my eyes at the woman. “You seem to know an awful lot about this stuff, Matilda…”

She harrumphs. “I watch a lot of movies.”

It’s evident that’s a cover story for her knowledge of spiritual occurrences, but I don’t call her out on it. I’ve heard the rumors of the Red Hats dabbling in rituals.

“Let’s get that packaged up and you two on your way,” she says, moving us toward the back room.

Her office is a chaotic assortment of antiques waiting to be cataloged and shelved. The air is thick with the scent of age-old leather and the faint aroma of dried flowers. Layers of dust coat the surface of every space, apart from her desk.

Matilda moves among her prized possessions with the grace of a connoisseur, her eyes gleaming with appreciation for the historical significance of each piece in her collection as she searches for something out of view.

My eyes roam the space, landing on an old photograph pinned to the wall above her desk. It’s a black-and-white picture of five men standing in a line, dressed in T-shirts and jeans. They look like greasers from the fifties.

I move a little closer, inspecting the image. I’ve always been obsessed with the past. It’s strange to think that mere decades ago, life was so different.

I’m about to turn away when I notice the triangle symbol tattooed on one man’s arm. My eyes move quickly from one guy to the next, finding that all of them have the same tattoo, located exactly where Harlan’s was placed.

The Order of Providence.

“Who are these men?” I ask, drawing the attention of Matilda.

“That’s my Joseph and his brothers,” she says, smiling sadly.

“Five boys? His mother had her hands full,” I say, continuing to inspect the photo.

“Not biological brothers,” she titters. “Only Carl was biological. The rest were his brothers by choice.”

Fraternal.

The Order of Providence.

“What is this tattoo they all have?” I ask, pretending that I’m seeing it for the first time.

“Something Carl drew up that they all decided to ink their arms with,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I never liked the thing.”

“Do you know what the meaning behind it is?” I press, hoping to get something from her about the Order.

“No clue. I never cared much about what those boys got up to. Their business.”

It’s clear I won’t get anything more from her on the subject, so I drop it.

She packages up my bowl and walks us to the door, thanking me once more for my help. I can’t get out of Marmalade and Rye fast enough.

Outside, I take a deep breath, soaking in the fresh air, the scent of sage clinging to me and Nick.

“Let’s hope that worked. Otherwise, I might wake up with a Billy Garet replacement at the end of my bed,” I say, half jokingly. “You’re safe. You reek of sage. No spirit is going to come within a mile of you.”

Nick chuckles, but there’s a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. “Maybe we should bathe you in sage,” he says, his tone suddenly more serious. “I’m worried about what could attach itself to you.”

I bite my lip, a nervous laugh escaping me. “I can’t avoid spirits. And besides, I have one back at my house that you and I need to discuss soon.”

Nick’s demeanor shifts, his expression growing guarded. “Yeah, we probably should,” he agrees, his tone clipped.

“I’m sorry, Nick. I didn’t mean to—”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Don’t apologize. I didn’t mean to come off like an ass.” He rocks back on his feet, looking wholly uncomfortable. “It’s just awkward to discuss Isla like this. I haven’t come to terms with it all.”

I bite my cheek, uncertain what to say.

“I know we have to help her move on. I’m just…”

“Not ready,” I say, and he nods. “I’m letting you call the shots here.”

“Thank you,” he says, and I offer a tight-lipped smile.

“I don’t want you to be angry with me, but she’s ready, Nick. She said so today.”

“Soon.” It’s all he says, so I take it that it’s time to change the subject.

“What do you make of Carl and Joseph Hampson?” I whisper the names, not wanting anyone to overhear.

“I’ll look into them. See if I can find any connections to the Order of Providence,” Nick offers, glancing down at his phone. “I gotta get going.”

He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to my lips. He feels distant. Reserved. I can’t help but think it’s because of our conversation about Isla.

It’s completely understandable.

The situation is undoubtedly tough for him to wrap his mind around.

The woman he once loved is lingering, unable to find peace in the afterlife.

If I were in his shoes, I’d be torn between wanting Garrett to stay and knowing that he needs to move on.

The time will come when he’s prepared to let her go again, and until then, I’ll respect his need for space to process everything.

What else can I do?