Whispers of Fate: The Mistresses of Fate, Book Two by Deirdre Dore Page B

been the smell of lemony cleaner and oil soap. His uncle’s cabin had smelled of dust, cigarettes, and fried food for as long as he could remember.
    “Hey, Investigator Downs,” the girl who was sweeping the floor greeted him. He thought it was Ro or Red or something. She was the one that usually spoke while the other two remained silent.
    “Hey . . . Ro?”
    She smiled. “Yep.” She pointed at her neck, just below her right ear, at a heart-shaped birthmark. “Short for Yarrow.”
    “Got it.” Tyler stared at her and waited, hoping some explanation as to why she was cleaning his uncle’s kitchen would be forthcoming.
    “How are you today?” She set her broom against the counter and linked her fingers together in front of her, tilting her head curiously.
    Tyler flattened his eyebrows at her and gave her his best don’t-play-stupid stare.
    She smiled mildly, unperturbed by the stare, which was weird for a teenager, but then all three of the girls were fairly strange, even for teenagers.
    Tyler caved. “Girls, it’s not that I don’t appreciate your efforts, but what are you doing here?”
    The girl cleaning the window set aside the wad of paper towels she was holding. Her birthmark looked like a bird in flight. He thought they called her Tira or something, but that wasn’t her real name.
    “We heard Mr. Abraham was dying, so we came to help.”
    Tyler glanced at his uncle, who was scowling for all he was worth. “You call the papers, son?”
    “You know I didn’t.” Tyler shook his head and looked back at the girls. “Just how did you girls hear that?”
    Yarrow smirked at him. “Haven’t you heard? We’re witches . . . whoooo.” She waved all ten of her fingers at him as if she was casting a spell.
    Now she was acting like a teenager. “Don’t be a smart-ass. How did you hear?”
    “Whispers. You know how town is. We overheard his doctor talking to Mrs. Cooley.”
    “There’s no privacy anymore in this damn town,” Abraham muttered. “Man can’t even die in peace.”
    Tyler didn’t even bother getting annoyed at the idea that his uncle’s doctor had been sharing privileged information with the librarian. Mrs. Cooley had been his uncle’s girlfriend before he’d gone off to Vietnam. Tyler thought the woman had never gotten over losing him to what Tyler considered PTSD, though he’d never been diagnosed.
    “All right. Well, thanks, I guess, but I need to have a private chat with my uncle.”
    “Okay,” they agreed in unison, making the hair stand up on his forearms. The girls were weird—no doubt. “We’ll go see Tavey and come back later.” They moved as if to put away the supplies.
    “Tavey?” Tyler growled and they froze. “Why are you going over there?”
    Three identical sets of blue eyes stared owlishly at him, but after a moment Yarrow shrugged and explained. “We’re going to ask her if we can have one of the dogs she’s rescued and if she’ll help us train it to search.”
    Tyler didn’t believe in coincidence. Why this sudden interest in search-and-rescue dogs? First his stepdaughter and now these three?
    “Why?”
    “We think it’s pretty cool. She came to our school a few weeks ago and did a demonstration.”
    “Did she?” He wondered if she’d ventured over to Canton High School as well.
    “Yep.”
    Tyler folded his arms over his chest. “She’s probably in church,” he tossed out. Tavey was always in church on Sunday mornings. He didn’t see how these girls could know that she was home this particular Sunday.
    Yarrow smirked again and mimicked him, folding her arms over her chest. “Then I guess we’ll leave a message with Atohi.”
    Tyler had a discomfiting feeling, like he was trying to shoot a target in the dark. The girl knew Tavey was home, all right, but she wasn’t going to tell him how she knew. Figured.
    “Don’t bother coming back,” his uncle chimed in. “I don’t want ya here.”
    The girls gave the old man equally mulish