Witch's Wheel Read online

  “Do I know you?” Olivia said and walked up to him, Gustov close on her heels.

  Teagan looked at her face, then over at Gustov’s. “Perhaps, we could speak in private,” Teagan said, leaning into her, trying to clear the distance between them and make his words heard. He reached out to touch her. To feel her soft skin again. He took in a breath and smelled the familiar scent of her favorite perfume.

  “Excuse me?” she said, and then went still. Her eyes narrowed briefly, regarding him carefully, and then recognition.

  And then someone was tugging on his arms again. Not holding him up, but reigning him in. Pulling him from the conversation he was trying to have. He tried to pull his arm away without taking his eyes off of his grandmother.

  “Teagan,” he heard the voice call him, speaking as if through water.

  Ignoring it, he reached out toward his grandmother.

  “Teagan,” the voice said again.

  “What!” he answered rather loudly, which seemed to jolt him into lucidity. Looking to his right he saw Calayiah, the woman from the watch shop. She was dressed in a yellow strapless halter gown, with ruby jewelry that complimented her red hair.

  And looking to his left, he saw Lybbestre. She’d wrapped her arm tighter around his and pulled herself close to him. She wore a black evening dress.

  “Olivia!” Lybbestre said. Mrs. Bales looked startled at the commotion in front of her. “Olivia Grafton Bales.” She extended her hand towards Olivia, who glanced down at it and back up at the three of them.

  “Do I know you?” Olivia asked, looking through pinched eyebrows, etiquette forced her to stick out her hand, although hesitantly, to meet Lybbestre’s.

  “Of course you do,” Lybbestre said and clasped her hand around Olivia’s outstretched one. She held onto it and smiled at Olivia. And with that, the earlier glimmer of recognition that she’d shown Teagan, dissolved and her attention went to the women.

  Olivia’s eyebrows relaxed and a smile crept across her face. “Oh my word. It’s the Frazier Sisters. Libby! Layah! I am so glad you were able to come.” Olivia stepped toward Calayiah. “Come give me a hug. It’s so good to see you.”

  As soon as they embraced, Olivia sneezed. “Achoo!” she exclaimed. She turned her head and covered her nose with her hand.

  “Bless you!” Everyone said.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Olivia said.

  “And who do you have with you?” Olivia asked and sniffed.

  “This is Frank.” Lybbestre pointed to Teagan. “You know, Frank,” Lybbestre said.

  Achoo! Achoo!” Olivia sneezed again.

  “May the Goddess bless you,” Calayiah said and handed Olivia a tissue.

  “Thank you,” Olivia said taking the tissue, and dabbing at her nose. “I don’t’ know what’s gotten into me,” Olivia said. “You’d think a cat was in here.”

  “Achoo!” she sneezed again. Excuse me!” she said.

  “Well we can’t have our host sneezing all night, now can we?” Lybbestre said.

  “No we can’t,” Olivia said. “I’ll have to find something to take. I do have some medication my doctor prescribed for me up in my room.” She pointed up the stairs. “I’ll have to go and get it.”

  “Or maybe I can help,” Lybbestre said under her breath.

  “Don’t do anything to my grandmother, Libby,” Teagan said between clenched teeth. His thoughts of them being quirky was starting to turn to perhaps them being sinister.

  “I’m only going to help,” she said in the same tone. She moved closer to Olivia and placed her hand on her shoulder. “Now you’ll be fine,” she whispered close to her ear.

  “What?” Olivia said.

  “Bottle of wine,” Lybbestre said, her voice a little louder. “Is what I said.” She pointed to her sister. “Layah, didn’t we bring a gift for our host?”

  “Of course we did.” And from behind her back Calayiah produced a bottle of Chardonnay.

  “Oh my!” Olivia said. “My favorite.”

  “We remembered,” Calayiah said and smiled.

  “I vill vait for further instructions,” Gustov said, his Russian accent stronger than Teagan remembered. “In zee kitchen.” He pointed toward the back of the house.

  “Yes, Gustov. That’ll be fine.” Olivia nodded her approval. “We can continue our talk there.”

  “How is your sneezing, Mrs. Bales?” Teagan asked.

  “My sneezing?” She had a questioning look on her face.

  “Yes, the sneezing your doctor prescribed medicine for?”

  “Yes, I only take it when I’m snee . . . How did you know about that?” she asked.

  “Olivia,” a voice came from the front door. “I’m here. Am I late?”

  Olivia chuckled. “Teddy! Of course you aren’t. I’ve never known you to be late for anything.” She held out her arms in a greeting. “I’d never known you to want to come to my fundraiser, either. So I guess there’s a first time for everything.”

  “Well, I thought you’d be excessively busy, fluttering around like a bee in one of your flower gardens.” Reaching the small group at the bottom of the staircase, he air kissed Olivia on each cheek. “Why is everyone standing here?”

  “Teddy,” Olivia grabbed the arm of a man that just walked up. “It’s Libby and Layah. You remember them?”

  “No,” Teddy smiled. “Can’t say that I do. But it’s nice to meet you.” He took the hand Calayiah offered.

  “Thank you,” Calayiah said. “Nice to meet you, as well. And this is my sister.”

  “Hello,” Teddy said and looked as if he was trying to remember her name.”

  “Libby,” she offered.

  “Libby,” Teddy said and nodded.

  “Oh, I thought you knew them,” Olivia said. “No matter. Libby. Layah. This is an old, and dear family friend.” She linked her arm around Teddy’s and pulled him close.

  Teagan smiled at the younger version of the man he referred to as “Uncle Teddy.” Dressed in a white dinner jacket, black pants and shiny black shoes, he was just as dapper as ever.

  “He’s more like a son to me, though, than just a friend,” Olivia continued. “Isn’t that right, Teddy?” She patted Teddy’s shoulder. “We even named my grandson after him. Ladies, this is Teagan Abrams, but known affectionately by the Bales family as ‘Teddy.’”

  “Hello again,” Calayiah giggled.

  “And who is this young man,” Teddy said. “Now he does look familiar to me, but I can’t place him.”

  “No?” Olivia said and furrowed her brow. “He’s a friend of the sisters, right?”

  “Right,” Lybbestre said. “And yours.”

  “Right.” Olivia nodded and pointed at Tegan. “Teddy this is Mr . . .”

  “Frank,” Calayiah said.

  Olivia looked at Libby, then back at Teagan. “Your first and last name is Frank?” Her voice up an octave.

  Teagan shook his head. She doesn’t remember her sneezing fit, yet she remembers the name the sisters gave me?

  “Uh-” Teagan started to speak but Calayiah beat him to it.

  “Yes,” she said, she reached out and touched Olivia’s hand. “Isn’t that brutal?

  “I think it’s opportune.” She smiled. “You remember one name, and you’ve got both.”

  “Well, Mr. Frank Frank,” his grandmother said emphasizing the word the second time she said it. “Why don’t you help Teddy here with a couple cases of wine I need to have brought up from the wine cellar?”

  “I just walk in the door and you put me to work?” Teddy said. “How cruel.”

  “Sure, Gra . . . uhm, Mrs. Bales. I don’t mind.” Teagan shook his head. “You wouldn’t mind me going down to your wine cellar?”

  “Of course not, why would I mind?”

  “No reason,” Teagan said and smile. The reincarnation of his grandmother was much less stricter than the one he remembered.

  Unless the sisters had something to do with that, too.

  “N
ow Teddy,” Olivia said. “I don’t want to hear a word from you. You’re the only one other than my Teagan that knows their way around since the remodel. I’m counting on you.” She nodded her head. “Now make sure you get the right crates, I have them marked. And there’s a courier coming to pick it up in just a little bit, so just put them in the parlor, there.” She pointed. “That way the courier won’t have to disrupt the party walking through the house.”

  “Why not have it picked up by the kitchen door?” Teddy asked.

  “Too much confusion going on back there with food deliveries and service. Just, please, do as I ask.” She looked at Teagan. “I’d usually take my grandson down and we’d do it. I don’t just let anyone go into my wine cellar.”

  “I know,” Teagan said, and nodded.

  “You do?” she said, her eyebrow arched.

  “Uhm . . . I meant, I understand. I’m happy to help.”

  “Of course.” She gave a curt nod of her head. “I trust Teddy,” she looked at Teagan, “and for some reason I can’t quite put my finger on, Mr. Frank, I trust you too.”

  “I’ll be very careful,” Teagan said.

  “I hope you will.” She turned back to Teddy. “It’s the 1969 Chateau Margaux. That’s French, Teddy in case you’ve forgotten. And that’s the section it’ll be in.”

  “From Chateau Margaux,” Teagan said, announcing his knowledge of the wine. “A Bordeaux blend. Savory. Classic.”

  “You know your wines.” An amused look crept over Olivia’s face. “I’m impressed.”

  “Thank you,” Teagan said, he bowed his head slightly.

  “Okay, you two men go, and I’ll catch up with Libby and Layah, here.” Olivia smiled at the sisters. “Maybe we can find a corkscrew and try a little sample of the gift you gave me.” She took the bottle from Calayiah and held it up.

  As Teagan passed Olivia, he leaned in and whispered. “I’d like to talk to you. If that’s alright. After I bring the wine up.”

  “Of course,” she said lowering her voice to match his.

  Teagan narrowed his eyes looking back at the sister, a warning not to interfere.

  “Come along, Olivia,” Calayiah said, and locking her arms with her host, gave Teagan the same look. “Maybe we could also sample a few of your chef’s hors d’oeuvres he has for this afternoon to go along with the wine we brought. I’m starving!”

  Chapter Seven

  Teagan turned and walked briskly down the narrow hallway that ran next to the grand staircase. He wanted to hurry and get back to his grandmother. He needed to talk to her. Warn her. He didn’t know why he was there, or if he was really in that house with her, but he wasn’t going to chance not taking the opportunity.

  Could this really be a dream?

  It was nothing like the nightmares he’d been experiencing, but real or not, he was determined, even if it was the last thing he ever did, he was going to stop that accident from happening.

  The prospect of it gave him chills, and he picked up his pace even more. He passed the half bath, and headed toward the kitchen where Gustov had gone. He knew that on the other side of the kitchen, off the short hallway, right past the kitchen office, was the door to the wine cellar. The quicker he got there, the quicker he could get back to his grandmother.

  “Hey, old chap,” Teddy said and laughed. “Have you been here before?”

  “What? Have I been here before?” Teagan repeated as if processing the question. He turned to look at his Uncle Teddy lagging behind him.

  “Yeah,” Teddy said, eyes wide. “You seem to know exactly where you’re going. I thought I’d lead the way.” He fanned his head toward the back of the house. “But either way, you might just want to slow down. It’s not a fire we’re getting to.”

  “Oh,” Teagan said and slackened his pace.

  Uncle Teddy was flashy. By looking at him, one might think that he was in the Italian mafia. Forty-ish and fit, Teagan remembered how he’d always dressed in a suit, round-neck sweater and expensive loafers back then, and worn his dark hair slicked back. Often seen with a toothpick in his mouth, and glitzy jewelry around his neck, wrist, and fingers, the Uncle Teddy of Teagan’s current world was much more low-key.

  But then, like Teagan’s now, when speaking to Teddy, it was easy to mistake him for being British sans accent. He had a certain air about him that made it appear that his station in life was higher than anyone else around, that Teagan noticed, hadn’t changed.

  He’d grown up in Florida, Teagan learned. In a trailer park to be exact, and had turned himself around. He’d pulled himself up by his bootstraps as people say, and made something of himself. But Teagan never had an inkling of an idea what his Uncle Teddy did for a living, or how he got money to maintain his lifestyle. Or, who, other than him, his family was.

  Teddy was a loner, never having any friends that stayed around for long. His grandmother had met him on one of her trips abroad to wine country, she’d brought him home and everyone took a liking to him. His grandmother had said it right, he was just like family.

  And with him being the only pseudo-family he had left, his Uncle Teddy meant the world to him.

  “Sorry about that,” Teagan said and stepped aside, standing with his back against the wall. “Lead the way.”

  “Have you been here before?” Teddy asked again passing him.

  “No. I mean, yes. It was a long time ago though.”

  “Well, if you know anything about Olivia Bales, you’d know she’s very particular about who she lets into her basement.”

  “Wine cellar,” Teagan corrected.

  Teddy glanced at him. “Yes. Wine cellar. She doesn’t just let anyone down there,” he said.

  “Yes. So she told me.”

  “Who are you?” Teddy asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean this is a fundraiser for orphaned children. You look too old to need help, and too well-to-do,” he pointed at Teagan’s tux, “to be wanting to offer any handouts.”

  “Aren’t rich people the ones that donate?”

  “Yes. But the ones that typically attend this function come only because they want something in return,” Teddy said.

  “I’m not looking for anything,” Teagan said. “I’m here because it’s a good cause.”

  “Really?” Teddy said.

  “Yes, really,” Teagan said. “Why do you say it like that?”

  “You just don’t appear to be the philanthropic type.”

  Before Teagan could respond, they arrived at the cellar door and Teddy pulled it open. He made a sweeping gesture. “After you,” he said.

  But Teagan couldn’t move. His feet suddenly felt heavy as if they were stuck in cement. He looked at Teddy, eyes wide as that same knot began to rise in his throat again. Teagan realized that he was afraid to go down into the cellar.

  “What’s wrong with you, old chap?” Teddy said. “Gotta fear of basements?”

  “No,” Teagan was able to get the one word out around the lump in his throat.

  “Are you going?” Teddy asked and gave him a pat on the back that sent him forward. He grabbed the wall to keep from tumbling down the stairs, looking down at his feet, he realized they had moved. He wasn’t quite sure how, though, or if he could do it again.

  Nonetheless, “I’m okay,” came out of his mouth.

  “Then let’s go,” Teddy said. “All that energy you had earlier, I’d think you’d be bolting down the steps. Stop slow poking around.”

  “Okay.” Teagan tried lifting one foot and felt his fear ease up, so he picked up the other and took one step down. He looked at his Uncle Teddy. “Sorry about that. I don’t know what happened.”

  “Momentary fear, seemed like to me,” Teddy said and reached around Teagan and flipped the light switch. “It’s okay, though. It happens to all of us. A lot of people have fears of basements.”

  “Cellar,” Teagan said and headed down the stairs. It had been such a long time since he’d seen the cellar. Right b
efore his father died, it had been dismantled in preparation to put the property on the market. Some of the more expensive bottles and the ones that had sentimental value, had been stored at a nearby wine storage facility, but most of it was sold at auction, or given as a gift to people who his father had business dealings with.

  Teagan hadn’t complained about it. He wasn’t ready at the time to deal with the memories. He hadn’t ever seen his grandmother down in the cellar at the time of her accident, not even knowing where in the vast wine storage facility it happened. But his nightmares soon after her death, had conjured up all kinds of images. And that had been what stopped him. He could see her blood mingled with the red wine, and the look of pain he knew had been on her face.

  He slowed his pace, closed his eyes and counted to ten.

  When he opened them he saw Teddy headed in the wrong direction. “Over here, Unc . . . uhm, Teddy.” Teagan beckoned him. “Where are you going? The French wine is this way.”

  Teddy turned to Teagan and then looked back toward the direction he’d been heading. “I think it’s down this way,” he said.

  Teagan pointed at the sign up one the wall. His grandmother had put up placards that looked like street signs, a fancy addition seeing that no one saw them. “Nope, the sign says it’s this way,” Teagan said. He shook his head. “Now who’s slow poking around?”

  Teddy came down the hall toward Teagan. “You’re a bossy sort,” he said. “Especially to be new around here. I’m beginning to suspect you know a little more than you let on.”

  “I just want to get back up to the party.” Teagan raised his eyes upward. “Don’t mind helping out Mrs. Bales, but I am here to enjoy my evening,” he said.

  “Right,” Teddy said. “So let’s get to it.” Teddy walked past Teagan and right into the French room. “There,” he said and pointed to wooden crates pushed up into a corner. He walked over to them. “Here, they’re even marked.”

  “‘For Pick-up by Courier’.” Teagan read the note written in his grandmother’s handwriting. “I wonder who helped you with this that night.” Teagan mumbled.

  “What did you say?” Teddy asked.