Southern Hauntings

by Amy Boyles

  Cordelia blanched. “Like when they’re going to die?”

  Amelia shook her head. “No, more like it’ll tell you that next week you’re going to get a pimple that won’t come to a head or you’re going to stub your toe on a chair in the next room. Stupid things like that.”

  I laughed. “Seems like a silly object.”

  “It is, but it also likes to be mischievous, like I said.”

  “It’s funny that all the other objects help it out,” Cordelia said. “Why is that?”

  Amelia shrugged. “I have no idea. Our resident wizard may be able to tell us.”

  Axel pushed the roast beef around on his plate. “Sometimes objects work together if their enchantment is strong enough.”

  “Oh, I love that word—enchanted.” Amelia took a bite of roast beef. “It reminds me of a fairy tale.”

  “Not that sort of enchanted,” Betty said. “You’re thinking of a princess in a castle where people were turned into clocks and dressers. This sort of enchanted are objects that won’t turn into people.”

  “I know they won’t turn into people.” Amelia rolled her eyes. “I’m not a moron.”

  Betty said nothing, which made me think she did in fact believe Amelia to be just one inch shy of being a moron.

  To break the tension, I tapped the butt of my knife on the table. “So, Betty, have you received any more gifts from your secret admirer?”

  “Not today.” Betty chewed on her food for a moment. “But I’m expecting a marriage proposal any day now.”

  I choked on okra. Like, really choked. Air wouldn’t flow into my lungs, and I made sort of gargled sound. Axel hit me between the shoulder blades, and the okra dislodged.

  I leaned back in my chair. Axel hovered over me. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.” He handed me a glass of tea, and I took a long sip. I grimaced. Not sweet enough. I dropped a handful of jelly beans from my pocket into the glass and stirred it up. I took another sip, and the tangy taste of cherry hit my tongue.

  “I’m better.” I smiled brightly and patted his hand. The look of concern slowly faded from Axel’s face. He tugged me to him and brushed his lips across my forehead.

  “You made Pepper choke.” Amelia pointed her accusation at Betty.

  “Yeah,” Cordelia added. “Has he written anything that makes you think he’s going to be proposing?”

  “You don’t even know who he is,” Amelia said. “How can you be thinking of marriage?”

  Betty stared wistfully at the ceiling. “It’s just a feeling I have. Like he knows me better than I know myself.”

  Amelia and Cordelia exchanged a look. Amelia fought not to laugh. Cordelia’s gaze flickered to her plate.

  No one wanted to say anything, and it seemed that’s the way the dinner conversation would end up until Betty turned to Axel.

  “Speaking of marriage, when are you two tying the knot?”

  My face immediately burned. Heat flushed my skin from the pit of my throat to my forehead.

  Suddenly my food was incredibly interesting. Wow. I could move roast beef around on a plate like a pro.

  Axel swooped in and saved me. “We’ve only just started talking about it.”

  Betty scraped the edge of her fork through roast gravy. “Pepper told us you mate for life.”

  “Oh no,” I muttered. I shielded my eyes with my hand, effectively creating blinders so I couldn’t see anyone and they couldn’t see me.

  Axel cleared his throat. The discomfort was real for him too, y’all.

  “Well,” he started, “that’s true. I’ll mate for life.”

  “Life means marriage.” I could almost hear Betty gloating. Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to look up to make sure. I was perfectly happy starting at a few okras as they drowned in gravy.

  “It does,” Axel agreed. “As the natural progression of any relationship, first two people must agree that they don’t want to be with anyone else, and then they devote their lives to one another.”

  “And then they mate,” Betty said.

  “Good night,” I whispered. Could I just disappear from the table? Reappear in another place, maybe? Perhaps another time? Yes, a different time would be great. One where no one remembers anything about this conversation.

  “I’ve explained to Pepper that when I mate for life, our connection will change. Become stronger.”

  Amelia’s voice filled with fascination. “Do you think she’ll be able to ride you when you’re a werewolf?”

  “Um. Maybe,” he said noncommittally.

  “Sounds like you two are headed in the right direction,” Betty said. “Just remember I’m a justice of the peace. I can perform wedding ceremonies. And Pepper?”

  There was no choice but to look at her. I dragged my gaze from the okra I’d purposely allowed to drown in the gravy moat I’d created.

  “Yes?”

  “I know a while back you were afraid of the mating, but think of it as something special. A connection no one can take away from you. Your bond with Axel will be unbreakable.” She shrugged. “Of course, you won’t find that out until you marry.” Her gaze flashed to Axel. “Is that right? You’re waiting to marry to seal your bond, right?”

  Okay. That was too much. Too much private stuff out in the open.

  “Betty, can you please stop talking about this?”

  Betty’s eyes filled with hurt. “But if we don’t talk about it, who will? Pepper, you angst over what socks to wear in the morning.”

  I scoffed. “No, I don’t.”

  “Sometimes you do,” Amelia chirped. “Not all the time but sometimes.”

  “Whose side are you one?” I snapped.

  “Yours,” she said quickly. “Yours.”

  Fury filled me from head to foot. It was not okay to accost Axel and me about our relationship in the middle of dinner. Betty should know that.

  But it seemed she didn’t. Time to school her.

  I clapped my palms on the table. “All right. Are we finished discussing things that embarrass Pepper and Axel? This was supposed to be a friendly dinner, not a come-to-Jesus moment.”

  “Get your panties out of your crack. No one’s saying you have to get married today.” Betty wiggled her fingers, and a ladle of peach cobbler floated from the cauldron to her plate.

  She inhaled the aroma and grinned. “Pepper. Axel. I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable.”

  “Thank you—” I blurted out.

  “You didn’t,” Axel said.

  My jaw fell. “You’re kidding, right? You’re not uncomfortable?”

  Axel grabbed my plate and ladled peach cobbler on top of it. “No, I’m not. Am I supposed to be?”

  “Yes, you are. This entire conversation is supposed to frustrate you.”

  He laid the plate in front of me. “It doesn’t. Cordelia? Amelia? Cobbler?”

  “Yes, please,” Amelia said.

  As Axel spooned dessert up for Amelia and Cordelia, Betty started up the conversation again, but this time she pivoted.

  “I guess the whole secret admirer of mine has me thinking about marriage. Sorry, Pepper, if I made you feel uncomfortable.”

  “It’s okay,” I mumbled. But I didn’t really mean it. It wasn’t okay to talk about marriage in front of people who were dating. End of story.

  “I guess since I’ve figured out who it is, it’s making me all whimsical.”

  “Wait a minute,” Amelia said. “I just asked if you knew who your secret admirer is.”

  Betty waved the spoon. “No, you didn’t. You said something along the lines of since I don’t know who it is. You assumed, granddaughter. Never assume.”

  Cordelia pulled her long blonde hair over one shoulder. “Since you know who it is, are you going to share it?”

  Betty finished her cobbler, pulled out her pipe and lit it. She blew smoke hearts to the ceiling.

  “Give me a break,” Amelia murmured. “If you’re not going to tell us, we’ll figure it out on our o
wn, won’t we, Cordelia?”

  Cordelia shrugged. “I don’t really care.”

  “Well?” My chest buzzed with anticipation. Finally, the focus was off me. “Who is it? Who’s your secret admirer?”

  A spark filled Betty’s eyes. “Girls, my secret admirer is…Neville Mabury.”

  My gaze slashed to Axel’s. Neville Mabury was the man who’d found Frederick Albod’s body. Neville Mabury might be a kidnapper.

  Oh boy, this didn’t look good for Betty.

  SIXTEEN

  Seeing as how I did not want to continue this silly marriage conversation, I kept my goodbye to Axel short and sweet.

  “See you tomorrow.” My lips quickly brushed his cheek, and I waved before disappearing back into the house. I didn’t know if he was going to mention anything more about that silly half proposal while we were both naked in his house, but if he was, I didn’t want to talk about it right now.

  No thanks. I had enough on my plate with a missing person and a talking ghost-cat.

  When I got back inside, I fixed my gaze on Betty. I could practically feel the flames shooting from my eyes.

  “What,” I said sharply, “was that about?”

  “That,” Betty mimicked my sharp tone, “was about making sure you two are headed down the right path.”

  I slapped my thigh. “Ever heard of letting things progress naturally?”

  “Nope.” Cordelia shot me a sympathetic smile. “She’s never heard of that. Trust me.”

  Amelia snorted with laughter. “Ain’t that the truth? Betty likes to take things into her own hands. Even if it’s someone else’s life.”

  “Betty, just so you know, Axel jokingly mentioned something about marrying him today.”

  Amelia tossed her hands in the air. “What?”

  The shock on Cordelia’s face was priceless. “You’re kidding.”

  “I’m not kidding.” I flared out my arms. “Now, before anyone gets excited and thinks he was being serious, I want to set the record straight. It was an on-the-fly conversation.”

  “I would agree with that.” Peaches jumped onto the couch. “To be honest, I don’t even think that man knew what he was saying.”

  I glared at him. “He knew what he was saying, but he was only joking.”

  Amelia clapped her hands. “Of course this is where your relationship is headed. He told you about the mating to see how you’d react. Since you didn’t dump him, he’s going to start thinking about marriage.”

  I flashed my hand in a stop gesture. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Betty—” I swiveled my head in her direction. “Then you come along and push that button even more.”

  Cordelia dragged herself from the couch. “I wouldn’t sweat it, Pepper. Axel’s not going to let Betty change his mind about anything. Even if she starts asking about great-grandchildren.”

  A wave of nausea overcame me. I placed a hand on my stomach. “I might faint.” I stumbled over to the recliner on wobbly knees and sat. “Can we please stop talking about all this nonsense? If anyone’s in trouble, it’s Betty. She might be in love with a kidnapper.”

  “What?” Cordelia stopped her trajectory toward the staircase. “A kidnapper? Don’t you have that the other way around?”

  “How’s that?” Amelia said.

  “The way I see it, Betty’s more likely to kidnap her secret admirer than she is to be dating a kidnapper.”

  Betty glowered at Cordelia. Amelia cocked her head toward Betty. “She’s got a point. A really solid one, in fact.”

  Betty snarled at me. “What’s all this about Neville being a kidnapper?”

  I leaned on my knees. “Jerome Puryear told Axel and me that Neville was the person who found Frederick Albod’s body. By the way, Frederick is alive. Or at least he’s not in the urn in his daughter’s house.”

  Amelia’s eyes widened with curiosity. “So he was kidnapped.”

  “It looks like it. Axel and I are going over to Neville’s tomorrow to talk to him.”

  “I hate to say this”—Cordelia leaned on the banister—“but shouldn’t you let the police handle this?”

  I dismissed her with a wave. “Po-lice, shmo-lice.”

  “That’s not funny.”

  “We’ve told Garrick everything we know. Axel and I just want to talk to Neville. See if there’s anything he knows.”

  Betty rubbed her hands with glee. “That settles it. I’m coming with you. To talk to Neville.”

  My eyes nearly fell from my head. “What? You’re what?”

  “I’m coming with you.”

  I stamped my foot. “No, you’re not.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Why not?”

  “Because you’ll go in there and start snooping to see if he’s your secret admirer.”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  I wanted to tear my hair out strand by strand. “What’s wrong with that? Are you kidding? What’s wrong with that is you’ll mess things up. Axel and I need to speak to Neville about Frederick. You’ll go in there and start sniffing around. It’ll distract Neville. But more importantly, it will distract me.”

  Betty folded her arms and studied me. Her face pinched up like she’d just sipped lemon juice without bothering to turn it into lemonade.

  Betty drummed her fingers on the armchair. “How about we strike a deal?”

  I tipped my head to the ceiling. “Why me?”

  “What do you mean, why you? You’re the one keeping me and my love apart.”

  “I’m not keeping anyone apart.”

  Mischief sparked in her eyes. “Yes, you are. All I want to do is tag along. If I’m there and Neville is my secret admirer, which I believe to be true, he’ll gladly tell you whatever he can about Frederick Albod’s supposed death.”

  “Hmph.” I still wasn’t buying it. I didn’t want Betty interfering. Willow Dean Gar’s murder case needed to be solved, and Frederick Albod, if he was indeed out there, had to be found.

  There was no other way about it.

  Betty stroked her chin, her eyes glittering. I swore a hint of mania lurked in her gaze. It just might be best to go along with whatever she said; otherwise I’d probably end up with pink hair or a rash or something.

  “If you let me go,” Betty said, “I’ll make your favorite dessert.”

  “Which is?”

  “Mississippi Mud Cake.”

  My fingers twitched as if they wanted to grab a fork and start eating. Goodness, I could already taste the marshmallowy goodness. Drool filled my mouth.

  It appeared we were at a standoff.

  “You can’t resist.” Betty fisted her hands in triumph. Her small figure made her seem like a miniature statue—one gleefully enjoying watching me squirm with indecision.

  “Fine.” I exhaled a breath of air, relenting.

  Betty clapped her hands and shot from the chair. “I knew it! I knew I’d win! You girls are such suckers for dessert.” She tapped her belly. “When you get to be my age, you stop caring about sweets as much.”

  Amelia clicked her tongue. “I thought you were going to say you don’t care how big your belly gets.”

  Betty glared at our cousin. “I wasn’t going to say that.”

  “Oh, I thought you stopped caring about that. You know, because yours is kinda round.”

  Betty’s face crimsoned.

  I rushed over to Amelia, pinched her shoulders and said, “Okay, we’re going off to bed now. Thanks, Betty, for offering to make the cake. I can’t wait to have it.”

  My grandmother responded with a low growl.

  “Boy, you really ticked her off,” I whispered to Amelia. “Let’s get you out of the line of fire, quick.”

  Amelia chuckled. “It was worth it, though. To see the look on her face. I should’ve taken a picture.”

  We were halfway up the stairs when Betty shouted, “I can still hear y’all. Y’all couldn’t whisper if your lives depended on it.”

  “Good thing it doesn’t,” I said be
fore releasing Amelia to her room. “Good thing it doesn’t.”

  The next day at work I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about that Mississippi Mud Cake. Just call me addicted to desserts, would you?

  That didn’t bother me. My tongue danced in my mouth all day in anticipation of the wonderful creamy goodness.

  I hoped Betty had it ready for dinner—my dinner. I’d skip the entire meal just to have room for dessert.

  We were reaching closing time when Idie Claire Hawker entered the store. My cousins lovingly referred to Idie Claire as I-Declare-All-Your-Business.

  Meaning she was the town gossip and hairstylist. I’d yet to have her cut my locks, and every time we met, she always mentioned it.

  My stomach sank as I felt the weight of Idie Claire’s impending guilt trip.

  “Hey, Pepper.” She glided inside. Her gaze swept around the room before settling on the back where I kept the food supplies. “I just needed to pick up a bag of dog food for my mother. I won’t be but just a minute since I know you’re closing.”

  I waved the air dismissively. “It’s fine, Idie. You take as long as you need.”

  I studied Idie’s foot of hair teased up on her crown. How did she do that? Get her hair so high?

  Duh, idiot. Magic.

  I laughed a little at myself as Idie laid the bag on the counter.

  “How’ve you been?” Idie leaned forward as if waiting for a scoop of info to spread across town.

  Don’t get me wrong. I liked Idie very much, but I never knew how much to tell her since I was afraid she’d relay what I said to her clients.

  “I’ve been fine.”

  She smiled brightly. Her white teeth glinted in the light. “And how’re your powers doing?”

  I shrugged. “Fine, I guess.”

  “You’re a head witch, right?”

  “Yep.” I took her money and returned her change. “That’s right. A boring old head witch who doesn’t use her powers as much as she should.” I gestured to my chest. “When I say ‘she,’ I mean me. I don’t use my powers as often as I should, and except for a few basic spells, I don’t have that much command of them.”