Witchcraft

Cavenaugh's household discovered that she was there for an unspecified duration. Before she could think of anything else to say to the pretty woman who was Scott's mother, Kimberly became aware of yet another person standing at the top of the steps. ', Starke," Cavenaugh said calmly as he nodded at the newcomer. "I'd like you to meet Kimberly Sawyer. We'll be looking after her for a while."
    Kimberly managed a polite smile as the man came slowly down the steps.
    It wasn't the easiest task she had ever set herself. The man they called Starke suited his name. A forbidding face that Kimberly guessed rarely knew the tug of a smile was outlined in awesomely blunt planes and angles. There was a sense of restrained menace about the man, as if the layer of civilization was rather thin. Kimberly could see a raw, potentially violent intelligence deep in the dark pools of the brooding gaze under which he pinned her. She hid a shudder and wondered where on earth Cavenaugh had found him. "It's about time you got here, Miss. Sawyer," Starke said in a graveled riverbed voice as he inclined his iron-gray head austerely. " Cavenaugh needs you." Before Kim could find a response to the outrageous remark, Starke had already turned and stalked back into the house. "Don't mind Starke," Julia Emery exclaimed cheerfully as she urged Kimberly up the steps. "He's a little weird but he's nice."
    "And no one will ever get past him to get at Scott again," Cavenaugh observed softly as he carried Kimberly's suitcase inside the house. "You can say that again," Julia whispered confidentially to Kimberly. "Poor Starke took it very hard when Scott got kidnapped. I think he felt it was his fault, which of course it wasn't. Whoever took Scott got him on the way home from school. We used to let him ride his bike, you see. Not any more, naturally. Starke drives him back and forth now."
    "I see," Kimberly said, glad that everyone was going to let Starke's nutty remark about Cavenaugh needing her slide by without comment. To make certain nothing more was said on the subject she hurried to exclaim over the beautiful interior of the house. "What a lovely home, Julia. It looks like an elegant old chateau."
    "But fortunately has all the modern conveniences," Julia said, chuckling.
    "Including plenty of room. I'll take you upstairs to the bedroom you'll be using. We had it prepared just in case Dare succeeded in getting you to agree to stay with us for a while." Another figure bustled forward as Julia guided Kimberly through the wide hall toward a large, curving staircase. "This is Mrs. Lawson. She takes care of us. Don't know what we'd do without her. The house would probably fall apart. Mrs. Lawson, this is Kimberly Sawyer." The plump housekeeper held out her hand with a cheerful smile and a crinkle of genuine humor in her gray eyes. She was probably in her late fifti es , Kimberly estimated, as she greeted the woman. Privately she wondered how many other people there were in the household. The sense of being surrounded grew. She and Julia had reached the second floor of the house and were halfway down the hall toward the bedroom Kimberly was to use when two other figures popped out of a sunny sitting room with loud exclamations of pleasure. "Ah, this must be Kim," the first declared. "So glad you could come, dear! I'm Dare's aunt, Milly Cavenaugh ." Kimberly smiled at the charmingly stately woman in her mid-sixties who swept up to her. Milly Cavenaugh had the now-familiar green eyes of the family but her once black hair had silvered quite elegantly. She wore it in a regal bun at the back of her head. The queenly style suited the woman. Milly was tall and proudly built. Her eyes sparkled with animation and an unquenchable curiosity.
    Cavenaugh had mentioned his aunt had lost her husband years ago and now divided her time between whatever projects happened to take her fancy.
    Kimberly knew she was going to like the older woman, but she also knew she was going to thoroughly enjoy the creature in the purple turban and lime green dress who stood behind her. For an instant she just stared at the brightly dressed woman. The robust, vividly attired lady was about the same age as Milly , but where Cavenaugh's aunt had an air of elegance about her, her companion appeared wonderfully eccentric and not a little scatterbrained. A good character for a book, Kimberly found herself thinking. "Kim, this is my aunt's friend, Ariel Llewellyn," Julia said, making the