Dark Moon Magic Page 3

  “I had to call. I got a bad feeling. Are you all right?”

  Relief washed over her as Regina shifted her balance from one foot to the other. “Yes, but something odd happened today.”

  “Odd?”

  “A flock of dead ravens were found next to my place.”

  On the other end, she heard a gasp. Clearly Regina hadn’t exaggerated the significance of the birds. It meant trouble. What kind, though, she wasn’t sure.

  “I don’t like this, Regina. Let me come stay with you for a while. Just until we know what’s going on.”

  Regina inhaled, then let out a shaky breath. “I don’t think that’d be wise. Rod is probably watching you. I can’t chance him finding me.”

  “I’m worried, Reggie. With me there, we could at least perform a protection spell.”

  “Let me think about it. Right now I’m trying to get my business off the ground, and I wish this hadn’t happened. What if they find out I’m Wiccan and think I killed those birds with some kind of dark magic? It’d be Salem all over again.”

  “You know how I felt about you choosing such a small town to move to. Everyone is so close-minded. They think Wiccan and assume something bad. Most don’t understand the difference between white and black magic.”

  A loud crash had Regina whirling around just in time to see a rock skid across the hardwood floor. She looked up and found a gaping hole in the picture window and glass scattered all over everything. “I have to go, Tiah. I’ll call you as soon as I can.” She tossed her phone onto the table, wondering what to do.

  Her focus fell on the large stone. Something was written on it … in red paint.

  She moved closer, and the words she made out stopped her heart.

  You’re next.

  Regina trembled uncontrollably. This was a nightmare.

  Dazed and on the verge of tears, she stumbled into the kitchen and tore through a pile of clutter on the counter to find the phone book. When she laid her hands on the big yellow book, she opened it and ran her trembling fingers down the pages until she found Trace Langston’s number. She punched it into her land line, holding her breath as it rang on the other end. On the sixth ring, he picked up. “Hello.” His voice sounded different to her.

  “Sheriff?”she asked

  “Yes. Who’s this?”

  “Regina Moon. Someone just threw a rock through my window.”

  “A rock?”

  Why was he repeating what she said? Was he having a hard time understanding her? Did they have a bad connection?

  “Yes. A rock,” she said louder.

  “Okay. I’ll come by and take a look around.”

  Regina hung up and went back to the living room. She started toward the window, then thought better of it and instead, stepped away, a chill of apprehension causing goose bumps to erupt on her arms. She ran her shaky hands over them as tears slid down her cheeks.

  Angry with herself, she swiped them away. Crying was not going to help. But how was she going to voice her concerns to the sheriff without telling him what she was worried about? No way was she ready to come out and confess to anyone she was Wiccan and dead ravens were a warning sign for her. They’d either have her run out of town or burn her at the stake like they’d done in Salem all those years ago. Neither sounded especially appealing since she had her whole life savings tied up in Healthy Glow, and she was way too young to die.

  A loud knock sent her heart racing again. No way could he be here already. Unless he lived a block away.

  Regina walked to the door, her knees knocking against each other. She pulled the shade away from the side window and peeked out, surprised to see it was, indeed, the sheriff. Quickly, she unlocked and opened it to him.

  He stepped forward and frowned. “You okay?”

  She nodded, taking a step back to let him into the house. “How did you get here so fast?”

  “I was at a friend’s just across the street. Your call was forwarded to his line. So, where’s this rock?”

  “It’s over there.” She pointed to the stone on the floor. “I didn’t touch it.”

  Trace walked past, and Regina caught a subtle hint of alcohol. She hated drinkers. Her father was an alcoholic and a bad drunk at that. But then, just because Trace smelled of liquor, didn’t mean he’d had too much to drink. He could have had one beer, for all she knew.

  As she closed the door, he squatted next to the rock, then turned back to her, his blue eyes now a shade darker. “Why didn’t you tell me it had something written on it?”

  Regina crossed her arms over her chest, trying to keep them from shaking. “I didn’t want to tell you over the phone.”

  “Do you have any idea why someone would write this?”

  “No … no idea.” She took in a shuddering breath. “I’ve only met a few people in town.”

  He rose and made his way to the window, glass crunching under his feet. He examined the hole where the rock had come through. “I’m going to take a walk around outside. See if I can’t find some footprints. Stay here.”

  He didn’t have to ask her twice. Regina had no intention of going outside. She was too frightened. If someone wanted to scare the bejesus out of her, they’d succeeded.

  * * *

  Trace exited the back door of Regina’s home and unclipped the flashlight from his belt. He shined the beam on the ground and searched the gravel driveway.

  Nothing.

  Next, he lined himself up to the spot that looked to be at the angle of the rock’s trajectory and slanted the beam down again. A mark caught his attention.

  He walked toward it and found a tread impression. He’d guess it was from a tennis shoe. A bit smaller than his size thirteen. So it had to be a man. He didn’t know any woman with a foot that big. He glanced around the print and found three cigarette butts smashed into the pebbles. How long had this guy hung around before throwing the rock?

  Trace didn’t like this. Not one bit.

  He headed back to the house. He found Regina pacing the living room floor. “You wouldn’t happen to have a digital camera with a flash?” he asked.

  “Yeah. Did you find something?”

  “A shoe print.”

  She raced off to another room—he assumed it was her bedroom—and returned a few seconds later. “Here,” she said, handing him the camera. “I turned on the flash. All you have to do is press this button.” She leaned in to show him, and Trace got a whiff of sweet honeysuckle. He glanced at her face and was riveted on a smudge of paint on her cheek—a light green that highlighted the speckling of freckles across the bridge of her nose. Damned if she wasn’t the cutest thing he’d ever seen. Tonight, her hair was pulled away from her face in a ponytail, and somehow, it made her look younger and more vulnerable.

  Inadvertently, his gaze made a beeline for her mouth, her sumptuous lips tempting him to make a move. Trace seriously wanted to kiss her. See if her lips were as soft as they looked. But he couldn’t. He wasn’t in control. Not with three beers in his system.

  “Thanks,” he said before turning and leaving the house … and her presence. Regina Moon was too tempting for her own good.

  Trace went to work, taking a few shots of the print, the cigarettes, and the window before bagging the butts, and shoving them into his pocket as he headed back inside. Regina didn’t need to know this guy had been watching her for a while. “I’ll take a picture of the rock, bag it, and be done. Could I borrow your camera until morning? I need to transfer these pictures onto the station’s computer. I’ll bring it back tomorrow.”

  She nodded, then looked away.

  “You’ll be all right,” he said, noticing the worry lines on her forehead. “Make sure you keep your doors locked. This whole thing could be as simple as a teenage prank. You’re new to town. That could be why they chose you.”

  She huffed. “Do you really believe that?”

  He didn’t, but the last thing he wanted was to scare her even more. She looked nervous enough. Again, nothin
g like this had ever happened in Groves. Like the bird thing. Regina had to be at the heart of it all. The search he’d done on her that day had garnered a restraining order against a Rod Stevenson. Maybe he was involved in this somehow. That was one of the first things Trace planned to check. But he’d need to be careful. Regina could have moved to Groves to get away from this man, and he didn’t want this Rod character to learn her whereabouts if she was trying to hide from him. But if he were in town, terrorizing her, then he planned to send the guy packing. No resident of Groves was going to be harmed on his watch. He’d make sure of that.

  “Is that a hard question?” Her words drew him back to her.

  “I don’t know, Regina. Is there someone you think could have done this?” Would she tell him about the order of protection?

  She shrugged again. “Not that I know of.”

  Why was she hiding that from him?

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” she snapped. “I don’t have a clue who’d throw a rock through my window.”

  Trace knew the sharp tone was because she was scared. “Okay, then. I’ll come by in the morning and return your camera. Have a good evening.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “I’ll find out who did this, okay?”

  “O-okay.” Her bottom lip trembled. She walked to the door and opened it.

  Trace didn’t know what to think of this whole mess. He followed her. “I’ll call someone in the morning to come out and fix your window. Goodnight, Regina.”

  “Thanks. Goodbye.” She held onto the door handle, her hand visibly shaking.

  Trace stepped outside. When he heard the chain rattle on the other side of the door, he released a pent up breath. Regina Moon was definitely scared, but she didn’t want him to know, and that alone made him determined to find who had done this and why.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Regina rubbed her eyes. She was too tired to care if it ruined her mascara since she’d gotten less than an hour of sleep last night.

  Once the sheriff left, her mind had raced a mile a minute—picturing one scenario after another of what could happen next. Someone wanted her out of Groves, and at this point, Becky Riverside was the only person who seemed to dislike her. But to go this far? Regina wasn’t sure.

  One good thing resulted from her bout of insomnia. She’d finished painting the living room. Now all she had left was to get her bedroom walls done and she’d be all settled in.

  The jingling doorbell had her looking up.

  Sheriff Langston walked in, her camera tucked in one of his hands—a very big hand. Her gaze dropped to his feet on the scuffed hardwood floor. Large hands and feet meant big … She fought the urge to look for herself.

  Her gaze flew to his face.

  “I didn’t track anything in,” he said, clearly having seen her staring at his boots.

  Intense heat raced through her body. What if she’d glanced at his junk? He’d think she wanted him. How devastating would that be?

  He held out her camera.

  Regina stared at the equipment, trying to shake the strange feeling that came over her. She had sworn off men for good reason, but the sheriff need only walk into a room to make her forget that.

  “Do you want it or not?” he asked.

  Want it? Oh, yeah.

  Angry with herself and with him for being so darn sexy with his lean, yet toned body and rugged good looks, she snatched the camera out of his hand and tucked it under the counter. “I’m busy. So …”

  He glanced around the shop and frowned.

  Okay, so she wasn’t busy, but he distracted her beyond reason, and she needed him to leave.

  “Do you have a problem with me, Regina?”

  “Problem?” Regina swallowed a lump forming in her throat.

  “I get the feeling I make you nervous. Are you wanted or something?”

  Regina snorted. Not wanted, but she sure as hell wanted something at that moment. What that was, he’d never know. “No, I’m not.” She smiled weakly and turned away.

  “I knew that.”

  Her attention flew back to him. “What?”

  “I did a background check on you. Nothing out of the ordinary came up. Except for a restraining order you have on some guy named Rod. Care to tell me about that?”

  Warmth raced across Regina’s face again. She should have known she couldn’t keep anything secret in a town this size.

  “What’s to tell? He wouldn’t leave me alone, and frankly, the order didn’t help. That’s why I’m here.”

  “So you’re hiding from him?”

  “You could say that.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me this last night? I asked if you knew of anyone who could have thrown that rock through your window.”

  “It couldn’t have been him. He doesn’t know I’m here.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes,” she snapped. He had some nerve questioning her. He acted as if she’d done something wrong.

  “I’m just trying to help you, Regina," he said in a calm voice.

  “I don’t need your help. I learned the hard way how much law enforcement help. The police in Little Rock as much as told me they couldn’t do anything unless he hurt me. Even after he did, nothing happened. I can take care of myself as long as he doesn’t find out where I am. I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t let that happen.”

  “Why would …”

  The jingling doorbell had them both turning.

  Sylvia was rushing toward Regina, a huge smile on her face, a face that seemed to have more of a pinkish glow today. “I need some more of those supplements you gave me. I feel so much better since I started taking them.”

  Regina smiled and noted a slight yellowish glow around her—her aura. “I’m glad to hear that. Let me get those for you.” Regina glanced at Trace, then walked to the back where she kept the vitamins. She located the ones she’d given Sylvia the day before and returned to the counter. The older woman and Trace were talking. Regina was hoping he’d left. Clearly, no such luck.

  Sylvia smiled at Regina again. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you giving me those vitamins. I called everyone I could think of. Don’t be surprised if business picks up considerably.”

  Regina’s spirits lifted. Everything wasn’t as bleak as it seemed. “Thank you so much, Sylvia. I do appreciate this.”

  “Don’t thank me, yet. They might run you ragged.”

  “That’d be fine.”

  The woman grinned. “How much do I owe you?”

  “Eleven dollars plus tax.” Regina quickly rang up the sale and gave Sylvia her change from the crisp twenty the woman handed her.

  “I have to run. Thank you so much.”

  “Have a nice day.” Regina hoped Trace would leave, too.

  Again, no such luck.

  “I just wanted to say, Regina,” Trace said once Sylvia had gone, “I would never put you in a dangerous situation. I have no intention of letting this Rod character find you. If you know he didn’t throw that rock through your window, then I believe you. I will, however, find out who did and make them pay for threatening you.”

  Regina wasn’t sure what to say. He seemed truly intent on catching this person, and that’s all she could ask for. “Thank you, Sheriff. I appreciate that.”

  “Please, call me Trace.” He gave her a smile that showed off his wonderful white teeth.

  Regina’s jaw dropped, unsure of why he’d ask for such informality. “All right,” she agreed, almost afraid to do so since there’d be no turning back once she did. All her promises to herself about never allowing another man into her life would fly right out the window, and she’d find herself yet again open to getting hurt.

  * * *

  Trace had no idea what possessed him to ask her to call him by his first name. It went against everything he’d done for the past eight years: no giving any woman the wrong idea.

  Regina changed that. He was attracted to her. There was no denying tha
t. Yet, this went beyond a physical thing. She evoked a protectiveness deep inside him no one had before. Not even his ex-wife.

  Without thinking, he placed his hand on her wrist. A jolt of raw energy charged up his arm, then down his back. He gazed into her eyes and could tell his touch had affected her as well by the way they darkened in color.

  Trace leaned toward her, intent on kissing her senseless, when the bell over the door jingled again. He pulled back and looked away, blowing out a breath to get control of his libido.

  “Can I help you?” Regina asked.

  Trace’s attention was diverted to the person who entered the store. Rayland Grimes. Why the hell would he come into a place like this? The man was one of those close-minded people who didn’t take to different.

  “Sheriff,” Rayland said when he reached the counter.

  “Rayland.” Trace tried but failed to keep a civil tone. There was no love between him and the other man. Never had been; never would be.

  “I wanted to come by and welcome you to Groves.” Rayland shoved his hand forward for Regina to shake.

  Regina smiled and took it in hers. “Thank you.”

  Trace watched their exchange with growing suspicion. This wasn’t like Rayland. What was he up to?

  “We have a dance Friday night at the VFW. We’d love to have you come.”

  Trace’s jaw tightened, his gaze flying to Rayland’s face. This was not the man he knew. Something was, indeed, going on. But what?

  “I’d love to,” she responded.

  Regina’s answer drew Trace back to her. He wished she’d have said she was busy. Now he was going to have to go and make sure nothing happened. The thought made him cringe. Up until now, he’d avoided town dances, since he had two left feet and not an ounce of rhythm.

  “Great. It starts around eight. I’ll see you then. Oh, my wife will be in sometime at the beginning of the week to get some of those vitamins Sylvia’s spouting about. She said they made her feel ten years younger. We all could use that; couldn’t we, sheriff?” He glanced at Trace, his green eyes shooting hatred his way.

  “Of course.” Trace smiled. He turned to Regina. “I’ll try a bottle.”