Page 10 of Air Of Mystery (Witches On The Hill #4)

After drying off and getting dressed in walking shorts and a sleeveless summer black and white top, I still felt woozy. So, I sat down at my vanity table to do my hair and makeup. Typically, I did that standing over the bathroom sink, but that day I made an effort to move slower. More deliberately.

Scowling at my own reflection, I gave myself a silent lecture.

I didn’t have time to be under the weather.

My to-do list is a mile long…a trip to the local library, and then the Alton Genealogy and from what I could make out of the old Victorian, it had once been painted in different colors.

As the photo was obviously black and white, it was anybody’s guess what those would have been, but the trim had been done in different shades from what was there since I’d known of the house, certainly.

I made copies of everything, took photos with my cell phone as a back-up and kept digging. From my previous research I already was aware of the succession of families that had owned the property over the years. And they were unremarkable—from a paranormal point of view.

The most exciting thing to happen at the location was that it had once been used as a convalescent home for soldiers in the 1860s.

After spending three hours researching, I had to go and do the interview in East Alton. Gathering up my things, I headed out. At least I was meeting them in public at a local restaurant. That way, I could eat lunch and safely conduct the interview all at the same time.

I arrived a half hour early, ordered a sandwich and fries, and managed to eat my first meal of the day before the prospective client arrived.

It soon became clear that they were simply looking for attention. I knew I was in trouble when they proceeded to tell me how intelligent they were, not to mention how well read on the subject of hauntings...and how big of a fan they were of my show.

The food must have made me a bit mellow, because I found myself being uncharacteristically gentle with them.

I soothed, I listened, and I didn’t promise them a thing.

After paying for my meal, I wished them well, excused myself, and headed for my car to make the drive down the Great River Road to the village of Ames Crossing.

Fortunately for me Camilla’s shop, Lotions & Potions, was right down the street from Amanda’s library. Looking forward to doing more research and working with Amanda, I parked in the first open spot I found on the street, snagged the envelope, and walked down the sidewalk, enjoying the sunny day.

I’ll pop in, drop this off to Camilla and be on my way, I told myself.

Camilla’s shop had a huge front display window.

Inside, a vintage claw foot tub was arranged with plastic spheres—Christmas ornaments I suspected—that appeared as if they were bubbles spilling over the top of the tub.

There were stacks of soaps and trays of various bottles of lotions and oils set around the tub at different heights.

The overall effect was feminine, luxurious, and subtly witchy.

I reached for the wooden door, passing two large urns filled to the brim with pink geraniums, ivy, and white verbena, and let myself in. The scent of herbs hit me immediately. I caught a mixture of lavender, rose, and mint. My shoulders dropped and I suddenly felt lighter.

Rolling my shoulders I pulled in a deeper breath and felt myself begin to smile.

This shop had been enchanted—and in the best possible way.

The atmosphere was cozy, inviting, and relaxing.

The décor was fabulous, and her products and samples were arranged in a way that made you want to explore, touch and smell simply everything.

Out of the back room, Camilla Midnight-Ames emerged. Her blonde hair was highlighted with a broad streak of hot pink. Crystal points dangled from her ears, and she had a tiny diamond in her pierced nose. I spotted a triple moon tattoo on the inside of one of her wrists and smiled over it.

Camilla was the witchiest looking of all the Midnight sisters. Today she wore a casual black skater style dress with a hot pink bib apron tied over it. She took one look at me and grinned. “Hey, Skye!”

“Hi, Camilla.” I held up the padded envelope. “Delivery for you from Brynn.”

She rushed forward, but instead of taking the envelope she grabbed me up in a big hug.

“Oh.” I patted her shoulder with my free hand. “Nice to see you too.”

The last time I’d spent any decent amount of time with her had been a couple of years ago when we’d formed a Grand Coven to banish the spirit of Bridgette Marquette from the grounds of the mansion.

Since then, I’d seen her casually, typically at the annual Halloween Masquerade Ball, but nowhere else.

So I was surprised at her enthusiastic greeting.

Before I knew it, Camilla had looped her arm through mine and was steering me toward the back of the shop. “Let me get you a cup of tea.”

I was ushered to a chair at a small café table. Initially I had planned to refuse the offer, but then I spotted a plate of shortbread cookies…and those I simply couldn’t resist.

“Trade you,” I said, and after passing her the envelope, I picked up a couple of cookies.

“I’ve been waiting for these herbs.” Camilla patted the envelope and set it aside.

Camilla and I sat at the table, sipping mint tea and eating cookies.

We chatted casually and to my surprise, I found that I enjoyed myself.

Soon enough I was looking at photos of her kids.

Jaime, her stepson, was growing like a weed.

Jasmine, her preschool age daughter, was as blonde as her mother, and her youngest son, Cameron, was also a blonde-haired cutie and toddling now.

Checking the time, I reluctantly stood. “Thanks for the tea, the cookies and the visit,” I told her. “But I have to pop over to your Ames Crossing library. Research for a project.”

Camilla rose to her feet. “Before you go, I want to give you something.” She walked over to a shelf and pulled down a few bars of her hand made soaps. “You need these.”

“I promise.” I held a hand over my heart. “I did take a shower this morning.” I waited a beat and added, “Used deodorant too.”

Camilla smirked. “This is my special sandalwood-rose blend. It’s protective and energetically cleansing. I was thinking this would come in handy for you, since you tend to be exposed to lots of negativity while you do your paranormal investigations.”

“That’s true.”

“Your aura is worn thin, and a bit cloudy too,” Camilla said next.

Cloudy, I thought. That’s two different people to tell me that.

“You need to work on strengthening your personal shields. The sandalwood and rose can help with that.”

I accepted the bars and recognized the scent immediately. It was the same soap Amanda had me use at her house. “I’m happy to have them,” I began, “but I’m paying for the soap.”

“Fine,” she said easily. “Come over to the counter and I’ll ring you up.”

While I paid, Camilla surprised me by telling me that back when she’d been in college, she had been a part of a paranormal investigative team.

“Really?” I blinked at that information. “I had no idea.”

Camilla tucked the soaps in a small hot-pink paper craft bag. She’d made it pretty by adding black and white striped tissue paper to it. “Tell Amanda I said hello, and be sure and thank Brynn for the nightshade.”

Now my eyebrows rose. Nightshade flowers were used in herbal spells to banish negative energy, in bindings, and to break hexes and curses. They were also toxic. Why would Camilla need those ?

“Nightshade is in that envelope?” I asked carefully

Camilla passed me the pink bag with a wink. “Don’t worry, Skye. It’s not for use in any of my bath products.”

“Good to know.” I accepted the soaps. “See you around, Camilla.”

Behind me, the bell on the door jingled as a few people walked in. “Enjoy your afternoon at the library. Blessed be,” Camilla said, turning her attention to her customers.

Slipping out the door, I headed down the sidewalk and towards the library. I found myself slightly bemused from my visit to Lotions & Potions . Camilla had been so open and friendly...which I hadn’t expected. She was nothing like her sister Estella.

Half-sister, I corrected myself. While Estella was suspicious, more private and protective by nature, Camilla was a very public Witch, with an outgoing bohemian personality. Or as my mother would say: freewheeling.

Starting up the old concrete steps to the library, I automatically moved to one side as a few patrons were coming up and going down. Keeping my eye on the stairs, I jumped in surprise when a large, warm, male hand lighted on my arm.

I glanced up and into the face of Charlie Smythe.

“Hello, Skye,” he said.