A Wishing Moon Read Free Page B

for Lea and they are still in the closet waiting to be wrapped—I checked. I knew if Kathy had gone with someone willingly, she would not have left Lea’s Christmas presents behind.” Rachel looked defeated, as if her head was too heavy to hold up. She slumped over and buried her face in the palms of her hands. “Is there anything else you can do, any more you can tell me?”
    Arabella thought for a moment about what would be best. “I can use my pendulum and check a map of the area to see if I can tell which way they were taken.”
    “ Yes, yes.” Rachel grasped on to any glimmer of hope. “Look at the map!” she urged.
    Arabella got up and found her quartz pendulum, which hung on a simple silver chain. In a desk drawer, she found a map of the Texas Hill country and spread the paper out on the coffee table. Then, she sat down in front of it and held the pendulum over the area as near to the Townsend home as she possibly could. She could clearly see Cypress Creek and Ranch Road 12, and so she centered the pendulum near their current location. Usually, the pointed piece of crystal would slowly begin to move and gradually swing more and more toward the area in question. This time, however, the pendulum refused to move an iota. Rather, the mysterious clear jewel stood stock still except for a peculiar downward pulling sensation. A thought entered Arabella’s mind. “Rachel, I don’t think Kathy and Lea ever left your property. Is there some place they could be hiding?”

Chapter Two

    The winter solstice had arrived in New Orleans, bringing a slightly cooler temperature of fifty-two degrees. Nanette Beaureguarde shuffled around the dining room table gathering the tools she would need to peer into the future. Each December 21 st , she filled a cauldron with water strictly for the purpose of gazing into its inky depths to see what she could see. The murky water came from an old well dug by slaves who had once lived on a plantation in New Iberia parish.
    The plantation had been built on the spooky green waters of Bayou Teche. Many had been the time girls would gaze down into the dark waters on the night of a full moon to see if they would behold the face of their future husband. One bright moonlit night in 1956, Nanette Robicheaux had clearly seen the face of Alcee Beaureguarde.
    “ Angelique! Angelique!” She called her companion of twenty-five years. “I’m ready to scry!”
    The two women were inseparable. Angelique didn’t just work for the family, she was family. She also shared Nanette’s magical way of life. The two ladies practiced witchcraft, or their version of the ancient art. In New Orleans, traditional witchcraft is a combination of the Celtic craft, voodoo, hoodoo, with a little Appalachian Granny Magic thrown in for good measure. If you asked them what religion they practiced, they would tell you Catholic. Their everyday life, however, was filled with mojo bags, spells, charms and a constant awareness of the supernatural.
    Angelique came into the room. A few years younger than Nanette and quite a few pounds lighter, her skin tone was the color of coffee sweetened by a few dollops of rich cream. “I have the mugwort and the sea salt,” she announced to Nanette. “The black cord, the crystals and the candles are in the bottom of the buffet cabinet.”
    Nanette opened a drawer, withdrew the contents she needed and sat down heavily in one of the straight back chairs. Angelique placed the cauldron in front of her and filled the black cast iron pot with the fresh water. She arranged the black cord in a circle around the cauldron, and sprinkled the mugwort within the enclosed space. “Mugwort will power the spell.” Nanette held her hands, palms upward, and closed her eyes. Angelique sat beside her and watched her work.
    Even though Angelique’s background was Santeria, she deferred to Nanette who came from a long line of powerful women. Nanette began by calling the quarters,

“ Guardians of the