Page 14 of Thunder Road

“Gotcha. It’s been quiet here, so if there are things you need to do, I’ll hold down the fort,” Pete told him.

“Thanks—I think I’m going to take you up on that. See you in the morning.” Simon ended the call and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he drove, trying to decide what to do next.

He called Father Anne Burgett and smiled when she picked up on the second ring. “Simon! Great to hear from you. Please tell me this is social and that the world isn’t in impending peril.”

He laughed. “Well, I’m always glad to talk with you, but I can’t promise about the peril. I need to pick your brain or get your St. Expeditus folks to do some research.”

“Spill. We’re always up for a good challenge.” Father Anne was an Episcopalian priest and a member of the St. Expeditus Society, an order of clerics who researched and fought supernatural threats. Even though she was based in Charleston, she had helped on other cases.

Simon told her about the motorcycle club deaths first, including the disappearance of the most recent victim.

“You sure know how to have fun,” Father Anne replied. “That’s…wow. Definitely not something I’ve heard before, but there’s a thread to it that does seem familiar. I can have someone do some digging in the archives. What next?”

“Is there such a thing as lighthouse magic? Especially on the Carolina coast?” Simon filled her in on Mrs. Brighton’s mysterious comments and the upcoming séance.

“Interesting question. I’m not sure, but it wouldn’t surprise me. The lighthouse keepers fit the traditional role of guardian, which pops up in folklore as a very important, almost sacred, trust. In the olden days, the keeper position was hereditary, and there were families who approached it like a priesthood.”

“I can see that. After all, they were saving lives,” Simon responded.

“Saving lives, sending light into the darkness, protecting the coast from threats—human and not. And before modern weather equipment, the first to warn about incoming storms,” Father Anne pointed out. “Lighthouse keepers also lived a somewhat monastic life. Some had families, but many were single people who didn’t mind being isolated. They had to be sturdy to maintain the lighthouse and its grounds and fearless because they weathered fierce storms. I’ve never researched it, but I wouldn’t be surprised if some, if not all, of them had protective magic.”

“That’s what I’d like to know. If so, did they work alone, or did they cooperate to provide stronger protection?” Simon hesitated. “And were they just concerned with keeping people safe from bad weather or other kinds of threats?”

“Ooh, I like where this is going.” Excitement was clear in Father Anne’s voice. “I can’t wait to see what we find out. Do you think the lighthouse issue ties together with the motorcycle deaths?”

Her question caught Simon by surprise until he remembered that he had mentioned the biker situation in an email looking for insights. “I hadn’t until you brought it up. I guess it depends on what kind of creature is behind the curse on the club and whether the keepers protected against that sort of thing.”

“I’ll get the researchers working right away,” Father Anne promised. “I’ll let you know when I’ve got something.”

Simon thanked her and promised to get together the next time he was in Charleston. Their conversation raised more questions in his mind than he expected and opened up possibilities he hadn’t considered.

His next call went to Miss Eppie, a powerful root worker who had helped him on many occasions and knew the area’s lore.

“Sebastian, it’s been a while. What have you gotten up to now?” Miss Eppie was about the same age as Simon’s mother and one of the few people who used his real first name.

“It’s…complicated. We should probably get Gabriella in on this too. How soon can we get together at the Botanica?”

Miss Eppie laughed. “I just happen to be there right now with Gabriella having a cup of tea. You come this way, and we’ll fix one for you.”

“Thank you.” Simon felt better just knowing his friends had his back. “I’ll be there shortly.”

Botanica Hernandez, Gabriella’s shop, took up an unpretentious older building on one of Myrtle Beach’s side streets. A bell rang as Simon opened the door, and he felt a frisson of magic when he stepped inside.

The air smelled of candles, plants, fragrant woods, and herbal products. Bunches of dried herbs hung from hooks on the walls. In the back of the shop, a beaded curtain separated the break room.

“Simon! So good to see you. Please, come in. We have coffee as well as tea.” Gabriella stretched out the last word like it was a bribe. She knew Simon liked that hers was often extra strong, brewed the Latin American way.

“Great to see you! Sorry I haven’t been by since the honeymoon. You know what the last weeks of the season are like,” Simon said. “And I will never turn down your tea.”

“Hello, Sebastian!” Miss Eppie called from behind the curtain.

Gabriella turned to her assistant, whom Simon guessed was a grandchild or niece. “Call if you need me,” she told the young woman. “But if anyone asks, I’m in a meeting.”

Both women hugged Simon, and Gabriella fixed his tea, something she insisted on because, according to her, no one else could make it just right. Gabriella brought out a plate of cookies and set it in the middle of the table. Simon accepted the cup gratefully and closed his eyes with the first few sips, enjoying the smell and taste.

They waited patiently until he sighed and opened his eyes. “We’ve got a situation. There’s a powerful entity that might be immortal doing death curses, and I suspect that there’s magic involved with the lighthouses along the coast.”

Neither Gabriella nor Eppie looked surprised. “Tell us what you know,” Gabriella urged.

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