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Josie set her purse down on the counter — probably so she’d have full use of both hands. That theory was proved in the next instant, as she waved them in excitement, saying, “I just heard from Mavis Jones — she’s the one who owns the Airbnb Lucien Dumond once rented — that Lilith Black has rented the house for all of next week!”
That announcement came from out of the blue. Of course, I hadn’t checked Lilith’s Instagram feed before I went to sleep, figuring it wasn’t as though I could have missed much. Earlier that day, she’d done a live Tarot spread and a small video on writing petitions to the universe…fairly generic stuff.
But it seemed I’d missed some big developments.
“She’s coming to Globe?” I asked.
“Yes, for the solstice. She said she wants to tap into the energies here for her ceremony.”
Talk about your blatant copycatting. I’d said pretty much the same thing on my own Instagram story. Obviously, she was one of my hundred and fifty-odd thousand followers…or she knew someone who counted themselves among my followers.
I was still very small potatoes compared to Lilith Black, though, and so I couldn’t quite understand why she’d be trying to steal some of my thunder.
Unless she was running out of ideas and needed to piggyback off someone else’s work.
Apparently nonplussed by my lack of response, Josie went on, “Oh, and I also heard from Leland Price, the manager of the Best Western here in town. He says almost all of his available rooms are booked next week!”
More of my doing? One would have to assume so, since I doubted there was any other reason for there to be a run on hotel rooms in our little town at a time of year that didn’t have much to offer otherwise. It was far too soon for the Fourth of July parade — not that the event held much interest for anyone who wasn’t a local — and the Festival of Lights, which apparently did attract its fair share of tourists, was more than six months off.
“Did people say why they were coming?” I asked, trying to fight back the sour taste of anxiety that rose in my mouth.
“Why, for your solstice celebration, of course!” she exclaimed. “What else?”
Uh-oh. It seemed like I needed to talk to Willis Dale, the fire chief, sooner rather than later.
* * *
“It’s tinder-dry around here, ma’am,” Willis said, disapproval heavy in his voice. He was a tall, thin man in his late forties, with a receding hairline and a prominent Adam’s apple that bobbed in his throat as he spoke. If Josie ever decided to mount a production ofThe Legend of Sleepy Hollow,he’d be a shoe-in to play Ichabod Crane. “Do you really think having a bonfire is a good idea?”
“Maybe it’ll rain before then,” I replied, the desperation in my voice clear even to me. With Lilith Black and a bunch of other witchy followers about to descend on the town, I needed to have a spectacle to give them. Otherwise, it’d be the Fyre Festival all over again, only without the Caribbean setting…and, I hoped, the lawsuits.
Willis’s thin, drooping lips quirked slightly. “It’s Arizona in June, ma’am. The monsoons hardly ever start before the Fourth of July weekend.”
Since he was a native, he should know. Still, I couldn’t allow myself to admit defeat.
“I’ll make sure the area is swept clear, that it’s only bare dirt — ”I began, but he cut me off before I could go any further.
“Sparks can travel miles on the wind, Miss Marx. We can’t take that kind of risk.” He paused there, and something that might have been a flicker of pity moved in his pale blue eyes. “But maybe you should go ask the Apaches if you can do it over by the river. That’s all their land, and so you’d need to get their permission. If you have to have a bonfire, best to do it with a water source nearby.”
Oh, sure. I’d just head on over to the complex that housed the tribal government and the tribal police, and ask pretty please if I could borrow a patch of land for a bonfire for a big pagan festival. That would go over really well.
And that was leaving aside the very real possibility of bumping into Calvin Standingbear. So far, we’d been able to avoid each other pretty well, just because we both had stuck to our respective territories. Unfortunately, I doubted my luck would hold if I showed up on his land.
Would he think I’d cooked up the whole plot just as a way to put myself in his path? I wanted to think he wouldn’t be that self-centered, but I knew it was a possibility.
Talk about embarrassing.
“I’ll think of something,” I told Willis. It seemed clear enough to me that he wouldn’t budge, and I couldn’t even blame him. If our situations had been reversed, I doubted I would have agreed to such a scheme, either.
I left the fire station — and collided with something large and solid blocking my path.
Chuck Langdon, to be precise.
He stared down at me as I stammered an apology, then said, “It’s no problem, Selena. But if you don’t mind my saying so, you seem a little upset.”
I waved a hand, although I had a feeling the gesture didn’t appear quite as airy and unconcerned as when Josie did the same thing. “Oh, it’s nothing,” I told him. “I was just trying to get a permit from Fire Chief Dale for a bonfire next week, and he shot me down.”
“That’s too bad,” Chuck said. His eyes — a fierce, bright blue, nearly the color of the cloudless skies overhead — narrowed slightly. “What did you need a bonfire for?”
