Welcome to Ravenwood

Leaving the police station brought me a slight sense of relief. I drove by the station at the town's edge, where a cheerful sign declared, "Welcome to Ravenwood, Washington: The Town That's Just Magical."

Yeah magical, magically steals all your stuff and accuses you of murder without any evidence. I can't believe that I'm going to be stuck in this town for who knows how long. I drove past quaint cobblestone streets with a surprising number of sun tarps with streets lined with mint. The air smelled refreshing and like a fruit basket. the buildings were made of stone and looked like they belonged in a historical community article. Driving through town, I found myself regretting the absence of my cell phone. It would have made finding a place to stay in Ravenwood, Washington, a lot easier.

Miniature fruit trees lined every street—an apple here, a plum there, followed by pear, cherry, and peach trees, creating a picturesque scene, but it wasn't the right time of year for all of them, I wonder how they did it. The air was sweetly fragrant, and the streets were named after the types of fruit trees that grew along them. I would have loved to spend a vacation here under different circumstances. While driving, I noticed a pale woman with black hair carrying a parasol, accompanied by a large man with a dark tan and hairy arms, who was dressed in a t-shirt and shorts. There were a strange number of ravens around town.

 I arrived at a charming Cape Cod-style house, painted white with lavender shutters, surrounded by a vibrant array of flowers. The entrance featured a dark purple, rounded door, and a spacious wraparound porch complemented by a back patio adorned with several round tables and umbrellas. In the front yard, a sign read "June's Spoon, Bed and Breakfast." I maneuvered around to a small parking lot where a few other vehicles were parked. As I stepped inside the bed and breakfast, I was greeted by a cozy reception area, where an elderly woman, wearing reading glasses, was engrossed in a novel titled Death at Sleepy Hollow.

 With periwinkle walls and a light gray floor, the room exuded a serene atmosphere. A hallway led past the reception area, where a staircase featured a wooden raven perched on the railing. A grand grandfather clock stood prominently by the reception desk, which housed cubbies filled with packages. A board with hooks displayed the room keys, enhancing the functional decor. Above, a large stained glass lamp with intricate flower designs illuminated the space. To the side, double glass doors provided access to the inviting back patio.

The elderly woman had short curly gray hair was wearing a creamy yellow sundress and had a large gray and yellow purse with flower print. she put a bookmark made of lace and set her book down. 

"Is there something I can get for you, hun?"

"I was wondering if you had any available rooms and if it would be possible to use the phone."

"Every room comes with a phone, just dial three to get out, there are a list of numbers by the phone."

"How much for a single bed room?"

"One room with a single bed is one thirty or one-hundred a night with breakfast if you stay for a week or more. "

"Is it possible to extend my stay?"

"yes, but you won't get the same deal and you might have to change your room if someone orders the room you want to extend your stay in." 

"I'll take a room for a week I said while handing her my card."

"Name of your reservation?"

"Ophelia O'Dare"

She charged my card for the room and then handed me a key and a ring with a tag that was bright yellow with a black 13 on it. "Upstairs furthest door to the left, ah by the way I'm Juneiper Micenzie, but people call me June, feel free."

"Thank you, I think I will. Are there any other rooms available?"

"Oh dear, I'm afraid that's the only one we have at the moment! You see, Ravenwood really goes all out for Samhain, starting from October thirteenth and running all the way to November first! It's just delightful! We get so many visitors from far and wide who come to enjoy the various festivities and concerts. Isn't that just splendid?"

"I see," well that would make searching for the real killer more difficult. "Do you know of any good places to eat in town?"

"Oh, darling, have I got a treat for you! There's this pub that serves the most delightful cheese curds, mouthwatering burgers, and the chocolate malts? Simply heavenly! But if you're feeling a bit fancy, there's a lovely French restaurant that you simply must try! They have the most exquisite freshly baked baguettes and those French dips are just fabulous! And the soups they serve daily? Oh, my stars, they're like a warm hug in a bowl! And let me tell you, their homemade ice cream is a real game-changer! Once you indulge in just one scoop, you'll be hooked and keep returning for all those tempting flavors!"

"You seem to know a lot about Ravenwood, have you lived here long?"

"All my life. It seems like you've got a few burning questions swirling around in that lovely head of yours! Don't be shy now, spill the beans! I'm all ears and ready for a good old natter!"

"Could we put a pin in that conversation, I need to go make a couple of phone calls real quick but I'll be back in a little bit."

"Sure thing sugar, you take your time, I'll be sitting here, reading my book."

Ascending the staircase, I held the room key tightly in my hand. The railing, crafted from deep brown wood, gleamed with a careful polish and featured nonslip guards for safety. Adorning the walls were reprints of Salvador Dali's masterpieces, each encased in ornate gilded frames. Upon reaching the top, I was greeted by a striking portrait of an elderly gentleman, his short gray hair and distinctive handlebar mustache capturing attention. A nameplate beneath the painting identified him as Sir Salizar Pinbrooke, one of Ravenwood's founding fathers and a warlock of the third class.

After reading it, I chuckled. "That's cute. I need to be able to take pictures."

 I turned the handle of the door labeled thirteen and entered the room. It was a comfortably sized space, featuring a full bed and sliding glass doors that led to a quaint balcony facing the back patio. On the balcony, a small round table was set with two slender metal chairs. Inside, the bed was accompanied by a nightstand that held a phone and a sheet filled with numbers. Opposite the bed, a petite wooden desk and chair were positioned, displaying the Wi-Fi password. A small countertop along the wall was equipped with a microwave, a coffee maker, and an assortment of complimentary coffee, tea, and creamer, with a mini-fridge tucked underneath. A small television hung on the wall in front of the bed, and a single recliner chair was placed beside it. The bathroom was conveniently located near the entrance. After I closed the front door, I locked and bolted it, feeling a slight unease settle in. There was something about this town that felt charged, as if the atmosphere was brimming with anticipation.

I hurried to the corded handheld phone, a relic I hadn't encountered in years. I made the decision to place a call, ensuring I wouldn't be pressed for time or have that bothersome Officer Donnivan prematurely dispatch a patrol for me. Without my phone, it was challenging to monitor the passing minutes.

I dialed the number on the card he had given me, pressing the keys three times before the call connected. After three rings, he finally answered, and I felt a wave of relief wash over me as his familiar, sardonic voice came through the line.

"State your business quickly, I'm a busy man."

"Hello Officer Donnivan, this is Ophelia O'Dare. I'm checking in to let you know that I'm staying at June's Spoon, bed and breakfast."

 "Listen up, she's just a nice old lady, so don't mess with her, got it? Her husband kicked the bucket, leaving her all by herself, and now that bed and breakfast is all she's got. I'll be watching you, so check in daily for the foreseeable future."

"How long will I have to stay in town?"

 "For however long it takes."

"I don't have a never-ending pile of cash that I can pull from."

"I didn't think you would, by running a trashy blog. Well if you run out, you can always stay in lock up."

"I'll think I'll pass on that, but thanks for the offer."

"Keep in touch," he said and hung up.

With a sigh, I set the receiver down and redialed three to call Megan. Miraculously, she answered the phone right away this time.

"Hello? Ophy?"

"What gave it away?"

"Where have you been, I've been so worried."

"It's a long story, but I'm currently in Ravenwood. Do you know how to reach this place? I can't get out of town right now, but I need two weeks' worth of clothes, a couple of pairs of shoes, my recording equipment, some soaps, a toothbrush, and other bathroom necessities like lotion and face wash. Plus, I need my laptop, a disposable phone, and my warm weather pop-up tent along with some camping gear, just in case."

"Woah! You must have found some juicy intel if you're going all out in siege mode. Do you need some company?"

 "It's a bit of a mess, and honestly, I'd prefer not to drag you into it if I can avoid it. Just bringing my stuff would be a huge help. Check back with me in a few days once I've settled in here, and I'll give you the full scoop."

"I'll be there in a jiffy."

"Alright, thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me."

"It's no trouble, I'm happy to help."

~~~~~~~~~~

 A little over an hour later, I was startled by a knock at my door. Frowning in curiosity, I made my way to the peephole. There, I spotted a short woman whose curves belied her height, with dark auburn hair framing her face and vibrant sage green eyes that sparkled with energy. She waved at me, her fingers dancing in greeting, while a luggage cart overflowing with belongings stood beside her. Surprised, I blinked and promptly unlatched the bolt.

"Megan? How on earth did you manage to get here so quickly?"

"You know me, driving, flying it's the same thing."

"It took me three hours to get here," I said.

"This clock is definitely on the fritz—must be broken," Megan said while pulling the cart into the room.