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“Plenty of those in the first aisle. Be sure to buy one of these before you leave.” She used her cane to point to a wreath of dried flowers hanging on an end unit.
“Those are pretty.”
“Sambucus nigra,” Jessie said. “You’ll see them all over town if you pay attention.”
“Was there a sale or something? Why does everybody have the same one?”
She gave me a long look. “Do you know anything about flowers?”
“Not much.” The garden had been my grandmother’s domain. After she died, Pops and I left it to nature.
“Once upon a time, people believed this particular flower kept away witches and dark spirits.”
“Once upon a time, huh?”
“Like many things, it became a tradition in town.”
I touched the wreath. “Do you believe it?”
Jessie regarded me with those sharp blue eyes. “I don’t just believe it. I know it.”
“Have you lived here your whole life?”
“Born and raised.” She relaxed her grip on the cane. “We’ve got a long history of strange happenings in Fairhaven. I think most folks here are used to it by now. Comes with the territory.”
It hadn’t occurred to me that Fairhaven could be some kind of magnet for supernatural activity. I wondered whether that was the reason I’d been drawn here, until I remembered I found the Castle online when I was still in London. Was it possible to sense supernatural energy through the interwebs, as Pops used to call the Internet?
“Do people talk openly about these strange happenings?”
“Not everybody. Some don’t believe, of course. They refuse to see what’s right in front of them.” She used her cane to liberate the wreath from the nail and delivered it to me. “Take it. You’ll thank me later.”
I didn’t know how to tell her the wreath was useless, so I simply carried it to the register, along with a hose.
Once I paid, Clark glanced at my purchases on the counter. “You need help carrying all this? It’s a hike to the Castle from here.”
“My truck is parked outside.”
“Well, that makes things easier. I can help you carry everything to your truck.” He didn’t wait for me to accept; he simply filled a box with the paint cans and the hose and carried it toward the exit.
I hurried behind him, carrying the bag with the other supplies.
“I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again soon,” Clark said, placing the box in the flatbed.
“What makes you say that?”
He smiled. “Have you seen your house?”
I opened the driver’s side door. “I’m taking my time. It’s just me, and I don’t mind the condition.”
“That’s a great attitude to have. Most folks these days want instant gratification. They expect a fairy godmother to fix up their money pit with the wave of a wand.” His cheeks colored when he realized the insult to my house. “I’ll stop rambling now. Have a good one, Miss Clay.” Clark returned to the store, no doubt to chat with the remaining customers about the new owner of Bluebeard’s Castle.
On the drive home, I replayed my conversation with the geriatric Jessie Talbot. I knew better than to think she was simply an elderly woman with eccentric ideas. It seemed that a deep dive into the history of Fairhaven was in order. If the town was harboring a dark and magical secret, it was one I needed to learn.
CHAPTER2
Ipassed through the open gate of the Castle carrying my purchases, and noticed a large blackbird perched on the finial of the iron fence. It looked like a feathery gargoyle, warning visitors away.
“That’s a big one,” the pink robed ghost observed, appearing on the bridge ahead of me. “Might need a scarecrow for the cemetery.”
