Page 88 of The Hearth Witch’s Guide to Spite & Spellwork

Saga and Avery exchanged a look. Something like John Hingley’s staged suicide?

“Terry had a lot of unresolved anger. Ultimately, that was one of the reasons our marriage fell apart. She never wanted to deal with it, just…” Unable to find a better term to describe it, Carson Abernathy yielded to making the pun. “Buried it.”

“Thank you, Mr. Abernathy, you’ve been very helpful.” Avery shoved her hands into her pockets. “If you will forgive a routine question, protocol, you understand, where were you last night?”

“With my children,” he answered simply. “Wallace was in bed at nine, but Chloe and I stayed up watching this abominable TV movie. Well, she was watching, I was going over paperwork. It was some sort of romantic comedy—she’d be better at describing it. I think that went to midnight?”

“You are certain about that time frame?”

“Chloe’s to be in bed by midnight, she fought me on letting her watch the last five minutes, so I’m fairly sure.”

“Thank you,” said Avery. She would have to check when the rain began in Putney to be certain he was truly in the clear. “And, lastly, who would you say your ex-wife hated the most in this neighborhood?”

Abernathy flinched at the crassness of the question yet had no difficulty providing an immediate answer. “Probably Katherine?”

“Katherine Sweeney is a gossipy bitch!” Wallace cried out almost gleefully. It was the only thing the child had uttered the entire time, and it sounded like he was reciting something he’d heard repeated over and over again. It took all of them, including Abernathy, by surprise.

The man looked so tired in that moment. “Katherine Sweeney, lives in number four with all the begonias and the hedge. She and Terry did not particularly connect well. Too similar. They’d snark about each other, and there was a time even when they were sabotaging each other’s front gardens, but I really don’t think Katherine would resort to anything like…” He couldn’t bring himself to say “murder” and gestured awkwardly toward his wife’s residence. “What happened.”

Men like Carson Abernathy, despite their line of employment, would be deeply uncomfortable to find the majority of what they thought someone would resort to was often wrong. “You have been most helpful, Mr. Abernathy. If you would not mind waiting just a little longer, an officer will collect your contact information and will follow up with you.” Avery smiled thinly and turned to leave.

Saga followed at first but turned quickly to ask one last question. “So sorry, just one more thing, when you moved into the house, was it before or after you had children?”

“Before?” There was his bewildered face again. How did a man who looked so easily confused make partner in anything, let alone a law firm?

“And had you always intended to have children?”

“Y-yes. When we got married, Terry and I both wanted to be parents. She was pregnant with Chloe when we moved in.”

Saga nodded, made a note, and followed Avery out onto the street again.

Avery eyed her companion expectantly. “You’ve got that look about you. What are you thinking?”

“It’s the thyme,” answered Saga.

“The concept or the plant?”

Saga pursed her lips, fighting between amusement and irritation. “Creeping thyme is a groundcover plant, and it’s not uncommon to use it in yards as an alternative to grass and such. While it can be stepped on, it’s not meant for heavy foot traffic. My grandmother considered planting some when I was growing up, but she wanted me to be able to play in the yard. Why would someone so intent on becoming a mother make it the first thing she did when she moved into a new home?”

“I…do not know.” Avery arched an eyebrow as a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Do you?”

“I might,” Saga answered. There was a lilt of excitement to her tone. “Thyme has been used for banishing, healing, purification, protection…”

“But the daughter said Theresa was against anything occult.”

“She did. She also said she wasn’t religious.” Saga’s eyes gleamed. “And there could be many reasons behind that, which should not be discounted. But, if that extreme response to the book was not because she thought it was devil worship, is it because of a past bad experience with some form of magic?”

It was a compelling piece to the puzzle, even if it was supposition at best. Avery lowered her voice as they crossed the car park and drew closer to number four. “You think Theresa Abernathy used to practice?”

“I think it’s an awful interesting coincidence that our killer is on the hunt for something each of our victims seem to be hiding, and Theresa buried it under a carpet of a plant known for its protection properties.”

“It is,” Avery conceded. “But you know how I feel about coincidences.”

“I’m adding possible explanations to our board,” Saga defended. “Not twisting what we have to fit a narrative.”

“That is all I ask,” smiled Avery.

Chapter 23 Saga