The Witches Ladder: Witches of Palmetto Point Book 4
The Witch’s Ladder
Witches of Palmetto Point Series
Wendy Wang
Copyright © 2018 by Wendy Wang
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Author’s Note
Chapter 1
The metal shopping buggy rattled and shook on the uneven asphalt of the Piggly Wiggly parking lot on the south end of Palmetto Point. Charlie Payne pulled her keys from her purse and put her finger on the unlock button to unload her groceries. As a psychic, she hated coming here, because being the only grocery store in a town this size meant that no matter when she came there was always a crowd. Her chance encounters with people and the ghosts still attached to them went up exponentially and it only got worse the closer they go to the summer, when tourists would flood the town and the nearby beaches. The tourists could always drive the forty-minutes up highway 17 to West Ashley, one of the suburbs of Charleston, South Carolina. But if they didn't stop to get their groceries on the way to the beach, The Pig, as it was known locally, was the best and only choice once they had in Palmetto Point.
Her last visit was over two weeks ago when she had accidentally brushed against a man, and the apparition of his screaming dead mother appeared. The woman followed Charlie around the store nagging her to tell him what an idiot he was for giving that woman he married her engagement ring because the man's new bride had taken the ring and sold the diamond. After pocketing the cash she replaced the stone with cubic zirconia. Charlie's head had begun to pound by the time she made it to the dairy section and when she could take it no more, she turned to the woman and told her there was no way she was going to ruin the man's new marriage because of a ghost with a grudge. She abandoned her buggy in the middle of the store, ignoring the stares of the people around her. For the next two weeks she ended up eating at her cousin Jen's restaurant, The Kitchen Witch Cafe for almost every meal.
Thankfully not one person had touched her today but as she approached the row and parked her car, the hair on the back of her neck pricked up and she glanced around looking for the culprit. The afternoon sky had clouded over when she arrived at The Pig and was darker now. Thunder rumbled in the distance. She slowed down to watch a man peering into the windows of the car next to hers. He cursed under his breath and moved on to her car.
He was tall and brawny and wore faded jeans, work boots, and a T-shirt with the arms cut out. He had two tattoos on his left arm. A skull with a snake threading through one eye socket on his upper arm and a snake coiled around the handle of a dagger on his left forearm. He started to bend over and peer inside her blue Honda Civic. He shielded his eyes from the sun with his hands.
Charlie looked around the parking lot to see if anyone else was nearby. A mother was wrangling her two-year-old into her minivan and some teenagers were hanging around the back of a pickup truck a row over. A man and his teenage son walked past her. If she got in trouble she could scream and hopefully somebody would at least turn their heads.
“Excuse me?” Charlie said using a firm voice she reserved mainly for her son. “Is there something I can help you with?”
The man stopped mid-bend and stood up straight. He looked her up and down in a way that made her feel naked. “I'm sure I could think of something.”
“That's my car,” she said in a tone that clearly meant she was not having it. “Would you like to explain why you're looking in my car?”
He chuckled but there was something condescending about it that made her bristle. “Well if you must know my stepdaughter snuck out to be with her friends. I saw her take off across the parking lot toward these cars. I'm just checking to make sure she's not hiding in somebody's backseat.”
“Well, my car is locked so ...” she said.
His lips twisted a smirk. Charlie pulled her phone from her purse.
“Now I need to get in my car,” she said.
The man held his arms up in surrender to step backwards away from her car. “Go right ahead.”
She popped the trunk with her key and watched him cautiously as she loaded her groceries into the trunk of her car.
When she finally got into the driver seat, she immediately locked the doors and watched him from her rearview mirror. After a few minutes he stood in the middle of the parking lot lane and screamed, “Ryan Whisnant you better pray I don't find you here!” He stalked off and got into a big black pickup truck with silver flames painted on the side.
Charlie rolled her eyes. She put her key in the ignition and turned the engine over.
“Wait,” a small voice said from behind her seat.
Charlie quickly turned her head and found a teenage girl wedged between the seats. She had her arms wrapped around her knees and her face hidden in the crook of her elbow.
“It's okay,” Charlie said using her most soothing mother voice. The one she used when Evan had a nightmare. “He's gone.”
The girl lifted her head. Her wide brown eyes flitted from Charlie to the window and back.
“How did you get in here?” Charlie asked. “I was sure I locked the door.”
“I tried all the handles and yours was the only one that opened.”
“Well I guess I'll need to be more careful from now on, don't I?” Charlie said. “Do you want me to drive you home? Or maybe you'd rather go to a friend's house? Someplace safe. He's your stepfather?”
“Yeah, I just have to wait until he cools off. I don't know if you could tell or not but he was drunk.”
“Is he like that often?” Charlie asked.
The girl looked away and lifted herself out of the cramped space, sitting on the edge of the back seat. “I don't live far from here. I can walk.”
“You know I have a friend that can help you. I work with the police sometimes.”
The girl's long thin face shifted from scared to terrified. “No. Please don't tell the police.”
“Has he hurt you?”
The girl swallowed hard and shook her head before answering, “No.”
Charlie immediately knew it was a lie but she also knew that things like this were complicated and not always easily solved with meddling. She reached into her purse and pulled out a black plastic card case, opened it and pulled out one of her cards.
“My name is Charlie Payne. This is my cell phone number.” She pointed to the embossed telephone number on the front of her card. “I want you to call me if you're in trouble. Okay? And I'll come get you and we'll figure it out together okay?”
“Why would you help me?” The girl glanced down at the card, reading it carefully.
“I used to have a husband who could be loud and scary. I know what that feels like.”
“Was he a drunk too?”
“No, he didn't drink. But he was very controlling. And he made my life hard.”
r /> “But you left him, right?”
“Yeah, I did. It was the hardest thing ever had to do but I did it.”
Ryan let out a sigh. “My mom will never leave my stepfather.”
“How old are you?”
“Sixteen and a half. I'll be seventeen in September.”
“When you turn eighteen you become an adult. You can leave.”
The girl nodded. “This says you're a psychic. Is that true?”
“Yes.”
“You help the police?”
“Sometimes.”
“Can you tell the future?”
“Sometimes. Sometimes I can tell the past and sometimes I can talk to spirits.”
“You talk to ghosts?”
“I do,” Charlie said matter-of-factly. “A lot of times, people come to me to help them connect with a dead loved one or to figure out the direction of their life.”
The girl turned the card over and saw the embossed pentacle on the back. “Are you a devil worshipper?”
“No,” Charlie chuckled. “Of course not. That's not a symbol of the devil. It's used by witches for protection. It's a good thing. Not evil.”
“So, are you like a witch?”
Charlie took a deep breath and nodded. “I am.”
“You can do spells and stuff?” The girl leaned forward, mesmerized by the conversation.
“I can, when it's needed,” Charlie said.
“So ... are there any spells that could kill somebody?” Her voice lowered on the word kill.
Charlie frowned. She knew where this was going. “Yeah, there are, but they're forbidden.”
“Forbidden by who?”
“By any witch that adheres to the principles of light,” Charlie said. “A curse or killing spell is dark magic. It's destructive and causes imbalance in the world. Witches who practice white magic seek balance. So we take an oath to harm no one.”
The girl made a noise in her throat and seemed to be thinking over Charlie's explanation. She muttered softly to herself, “Do no harm.”
“What's your name?”
“Ryan.”
“I can't give you a curse Ryan, but I can give you a blessing. Would you like that?”
The girl tilted her head and a slight smile curved her lips. “A blessing. I like that.”
Charlie reached around her neck and unfastened the silver necklace she always wore. “Here, put this on.” Charlie gestured for the girl to lean forward further and she slipped it around the girl's neck. “This necklace was given to me to protect me. And I'm giving it to you to protect you. The pendant is a pentacle and the two gemstones are black tourmalines.”
“Wow,” the girl whispered touching the pendant.
Charlie placed her hand on the girl's shoulder and closed her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she focused her energy as she spoke. “Protect this child with light that is pure. Protect her day and night, from those who would do her harm. May this shield remain unbroken. So mote it be.”
“That was amazing,” the girl said softly, sounding a little drunk. “I totally felt that.”
“Good. Keep hold of that feeling when you're scared.”
Ryan smiled and nodded. “I will. Thank you. I really should go now.”
“You sure I can't drop you off?”
“Yeah, I'm sure.”
“Okay, be careful out there.”
“I will.”
Charlie watched as Ryan got out of her car and walked back over to the teenagers standing around a truck. Ryan said something to one of the other girls then waved and started walking away towards the road that ran along The Piggly Wiggly toward the housing development behind the large shopping center. Her hand drifted to the bare skin where her pendant used to hang and an uneasy feeling settled over her. She hoped the blessing would hold and that the girl would be all right.
Charlie held the paper bag with four muffins in one hand and a large fresh coffee in the other as she approached the apartment of Deputy Jason Tate. She pressed the button for the doorbell with her index finger. Inside she could hear the loud ding dong ding dong. She put her ear to the door and waited. Then it occurred to her he might not be home. She knew he wasn't working but maybe ... maybe he wasn't home. Maybe he was spending the night with that social worker. Was he even still seeing her? Charlie took a step back away from the door. She should've called first. She turned and started down the hall heading for the staircase. Behind her the door opened.
“Charlie?” Jason said. He stepped out into the hallway wearing only a pair of khaki shorts. His short, sandy brown hair tousled as if he had just gotten out of bed. Charlie winced at her name and turned around.
“Hey --” she said her voice going up half an octave at the end. “I woke you up.”
Jason rubbed his eyes and shook his head. “No, I've been up for a while. I just haven't gotten out of bed yet. What's going on?”
“I --” she held out the bag of muffins and coffee. “I brought you breakfast. I called the station and they said you weren't working today. I probably should've called first.” Why was she talking so fast? She glanced away from his defined muscular chest looking down at her feet.
“Thanks.” He took the bag of muffins and the coffee. He glanced at the door and then at Charlie again. A soft redness filled his cheeks. “So why are you really here?”
Charlie sighed. “I had this strange experience yesterday and I wanted to talk to you about it.”
“Now?”
“Yeah -- if that's okay?”
His eyes darted back to the doorway again and he pulled the door shut.
Charlie narrowed her eyes and gave him an accusatory grin. “You do have somebody here,” she teased. “Anybody I know?”
Jason's eyes widened, and he cleared his throat and shook his head. “Uh ... no.”
“No you're alone or no I don't know her?”
“No you don't know her.”
Charlie cocked her head.
“You do know that I can tell when you're lying? Right?”
He frowned and sighed. “I'm not ready to share with you yet, how about that?”
Charlie snickered. “Fine,” she said. “Maybe we can meet up later.”
“Is somebody in trouble?”
“Maybe,” Charlie said. “I don't know for sure.”
“Where does this fall on a scale of 1 to 911?”
“It's not an emergency if that's what you're asking. At least I don't think it is. I had a stowaway in my car yesterday. A teenage girl hiding from her stepfather.”
“Was she hurt?”
“Not that I could tell. She was just really scared.”
“I don't know what I could do about that. It doesn't sound like a crime's been committed. Did you see any signs of abuse?”
“No. Not physical abuse anyway.”
“Okay. So she didn't really make a complaint or anything then.”
“Not exactly. But she said something to me ... and I had this dream last night. I'm just worried, that's all.”
“What did she say?”
“I gave her my card and told her to call me if she needed help. She asked about the pentacle on the back of the card.”
“So?”
“I told her what it meant and that I was a witch. She asked if I could do a curse.”
“I'm not following you. She wanted you to curse somebody? Last time I checked cursing someone isn't a crime, unless fraud is involved then maybe --”
“Jason,” Charlie snapped. “You don't go to a shrink unless you want to be shrunk and you don't ask a witch for a curse unless you want to curse someone, which usually entails pain, suffering or death.”
“Okay. What is it you want me to do exactly?”
“I don't know ... I guess I just wanted to talk to you about it.”
Jason's face softened. “Why? You didn't give her a curse right?”
“No, of course not.”
Charlie looked around the apartment complex, gathering her thoughts. She knew
Jason wanted to get back to his “friend,” but she wasn't ready to leave. “Sometimes talking to you helps me make sense of things. You told me it's not a crime ... so ... I'm sorry I bothered you.”
“Charlie,” he sighed. “You're not bothering me, and I do appreciate the breakfast I really do. I --”
“I know. I can't stop thinking about her.” Charlie said stepping forward, feeling a little desperate. “I think something bad is going happen to her but I can't stop that from happening.”
Jason's face softened. “You don't even know this girl. Why do you care so much?”
“Because I'm a human being? Does there have to be a reason to care? I just do,” she snapped.
“All right.” Jason held his paper bag and coffee up in surrender. “I didn't mean to get your dander up. I --” he cleared his throat. “Why don't I meet you later today and we can talk about it more.”
“No. It's fine. I'm fine. You and your company enjoy the muffins. I'll talk to you later.”
“Why don't I meet you for lunch at the café?” He took a step closing the gap between them. “I really do want to hear about it.”
“You're sweet.” Charlie shrugged. “But that won't be necessary.” She brushed her hand across his forearm. An image popped into her head of a woman with strawberry blond hair sitting up in his bed with the sheet wrapped around her naked body. A worry frown etched a deep line in her freckled, make-up free forehead, a line Charlie was very familiar with. Charlie's eyes widened, and her jaw slackened. Lisa, her cousin, was the woman.
“You okay?” Jason asked, concern washing over his handsome features.
Charlie cleared her throat, shaking it off. She forced a smile. “Yeah, I'm fine.”
Jason's eyes tightened. “You sure?”
“Oh yeah, I'm good.” Charlie glanced down at the watch on her left arm. “I should go.”