Southern Hauntings

by Amy Boyles

  “She’s becoming obsessed,” I said. “I mean, she wants to hit the witch senior center ASAP to find out who it is.”

  Amelia crossed to the recliner and slumped down, resting her head in her hands. “I never meant for this to get so out of control. I thought I’d send one gift. She’d snark a little bit at it, and that would be the end.” Amelia’s voice filled with amazement. “But she didn’t. She became fixated.”

  “I know. I thought she would throw herself off a bridge after discovering that Neville Mabury has a girlfriend.”

  Amelia’s lower lip trembled. She bit down, quelling it. “I keep thinking at some point she’ll give up or get tired of it.”

  I laughed. “We’re beyond that now, cousin. Our grandmother will rip apart anyone who stands in the way of her secret admirer.”

  Amelia raked her hands through her short pixie cut. “I know. I’m a terrible person.”

  I sighed and crossed to her, placing a hand on Amelia’s shoulder. “You’re not a terrible person.” I sat on the recliner’s arm. “You were only trying to help.”

  It was typical Amelia. Kindhearted to death. But also typical Amelia was the fact that her plan faltered in the most obvious of ways.

  When Betty discovered there was no secret admirer, she would be crushed. But to keep dragging it out was worse. My grandmother didn’t need to be hooked on an imaginary man.

  “We have to tell her,” I said.

  “No.” Amelia bolted up, throwing the recliner back and knocking me off.

  “Hey!”

  “Sorry.” She grabbed my arm and steadied me. “But we can’t tell her. There’s no way. She’ll kill me.” Amelia jabbed her finger at me. “She’ll kill you for knowing about it and not coming forward.”

  I scoffed. “No, she won’t.”

  Amelia lifted her chin and gazed down her nose at me. “Are you sure about that? Because I’m pretty convinced that our grandmother will have a serious problem with the fact that you had the inside scoop and didn’t share it with her.”

  My brow furrowed. Amelia might be right. If Betty realized I had known her beau was fake, what would she do to me?

  I had the feeling keeping me from eating Mississippi Mud Cake was only the tip of the iceberg when it came to revenge.

  I folded my arms and studied Amelia. “Then what do you suggest we do?” I gestured with the paperweight. “You can’t keep lying to her.”

  “I don’t know,” Amelia whined. “That’s the other problem. I don’t know what to do. How to fix this.” She suddenly clutched my shirt, digging her fingers into it. “I’m in too deep, Pepper. This is like a bad mob movie where the main character is really an undercover FBI agent. At first the agent knows who he is, but after years of being with the mob, he starts to forget. He doesn’t know where he ends and the mob begins. He doesn’t even know if he’s with the FBI anymore.

  “I don’t know how to fix this, Pepper. You have to help me!”

  I leaned back and gently unhooked Amelia’s fingers from my shirt. Whoa. She was on the brink of a breakdown. I had to come up with something, and it had to be good.

  “Let’s think, Amelia. What are our options?”

  My cousin paused. She slid a finger under her eye, wiping away what I could only describe as a tear of insanity.

  “I could keep giving her gifts.”

  “No,” I said quickly. “We’re not going to keep doing that. That’s the last thing we need to do.”

  “I could move away, deny I ever had anything to do with this.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Would you be serious?”

  “I am serious.”

  I shook my head. “You abandoning us would not help. Let’s keep it together. Okay. Betty is seriously hooked on this guy, and we need to get her unhooked.”

  Amelia hummed to herself as she thought. Her gaze snapped to me. “I know! We can pretend to know who it is and say he’s a real douchebag.”

  “Does she even know what that word means?”

  Amelia smiled brightly. “We can teach her.”

  “Probably not the best circumstances to do that.” I shifted the paperweight from one palm to the next, trying to figure out a plan that would be the best of all worlds. As I thought, I stared at the crystal in my hand.

  “What would Betty want?” I said.

  “To meet him,” Amelia replied.

  I shot her a dark look. “That’s not happening. There’s no way. He doesn’t exist.”

  “So what do we do?”

  I clicked my tongue in thought. Suddenly brilliance flashed in my brain. Okay, maybe it wasn’t brilliance, but it felt pretty darn close.

  My gaze landed on Amelia. She studied me closely. Her lips curled into a thin smile. “What are you thinking?”

  I grinned like a cat who’d just eaten a canary. “I think I’ve got the perfect plan.”

  Amelia leaned forward. “I’m all ears.”

  TWENTY

  After Amelia and I came up with a plan, I spent the rest of the afternoon working out the strategics—was that a word?—with Amelia beside me.

  Once we were confident in what we had laid out, I gathered Peaches and readied myself to meet Axel.

  “Want to come on a stakeout, cat?”

  Peaches stretched his back legs and said in his oh so bored voice, “I would love to.”

  The ghost-cat and I headed outside. Peaches vanished like he had before.

  I have to admit, it was unnerving walking with a cat I couldn’t see or hear. He had to be beside me, or at least close by, but I had no idea exactly where he was.

  Shirking off my discomfort, I headed down the street. CJ’s house was close enough to walk, and let me tell you, after all the Mississippi Mud Cake, I needed the exercise.

  Axel had offered to pick me up, but I’d declined.

  I’d just made the first turn when an image made me stop dead. Well, not really. I was very much alive. My heart beat, but my mind spun.

  Walking toward me was a robed woman. Images from the trees flashed in my head.

  The figure leading someone through the forest. Someone unwilling. The figure cloaked in black.

  The rush of the thought made my head swim. It was like a thousand bolts of electricity were buzzing in my brain. I swayed on my feet, and the figure surged forward.

  “Pepper? Pepper, are you okay?”

  The figure had me by the shoulders. My vision blurred. It wouldn’t sharpen. Wouldn’t focus.

  “Pepper!” the figure demanded.

  I shook the cobwebs from my head. I staggered back. Finally what I saw registered in my brain.

  I squinted. A woman with skin the color of creamy vanilla and dark brown eyes greeted me. I blinked. “Ingrid Puryear?”

  She reached for me. “Yes. Pepper, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  I rubbed my temples. “No. No, I’m okay. I haven’t seen a ghost. I’m sorry. I just had the strangest thing happen. It was almost like a vision.”

  Ingrid pointed toward the sidewalk, and a park bench sprouted from the ground.

  “Neat trick,” I said.

  She pulled me toward it. “Come and sit.”

  I sank onto the cast-iron seat. “Thank you. I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

  She shook her head. “What with the whole Willow Dean murder, I’m not surprised you’re shaken up.”

  “Yeah.” I pulled the familiar holder from my purse. “Not to mention this little guy here seems to be a problem. Apparently the power residing in it can allow a witch or wizard to jump into a familiar’s body. Did you know that?”

  Ingrid glanced away. “No, I didn’t. But I never really cared about any of that. It was Mr. Albod I cared about.” Her gaze flickered to the critterling. “But I’m not surprised. It’s funny the thing went missing after his death.”

  “Yeah,” I mused, still unable to cast off the looming sense of dread the vision had brought.

  I decided it would be best to
focus on other things. “I hear you left Mr. Albod in the care of Neville Mabury when he died.”

  Ingrid wiped a tear from her cheek. “I should’ve stayed. Should’ve made sure Mr. Albod was okay.”

  I rubbed her shoulder. “It wouldn’t have changed anything.”

  “Maybe not.”

  I slid my tongue over my teeth. My mouth tasted like metal. I really wasn’t feeling good. “Did you ever hear Mr. Albod mention that he was afraid of CJ?”

  “Who? CJ Hix?”

  I nodded.

  Ingrid threw her head of curly black hair back and laughed. It was a deep, throaty sound. Almost sexy for an older woman.

  She stopped laughing. “No, I never heard that.”

  “So there’s no truth to it?”

  Ingrid grimaced. “Well, there may be a ring of some truth.” She leaned over. “See, Mr. Albod thought CJ and his daughter were going to sell the house from under him.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.” She shot me a pointed look. “That was one thing Mr. Albod was afraid of—that someone would take that house away from him.” Ingrid stared at me. “You sure you’re feeling okay?”

  I nodded. “Yes, I’m fine. Just the effect of some sort of weird vision I had.”

  Ingrid smiled warmly. “You know, Pepper. You remind me a lot of me when I was your age.”

  I quirked a brow. “How’s that?”

  “You’re out here helping people. Worried about what happened to Mr. Albod. It was a shame he died, but he was an old man. I was with Mr. Albod day and most nights for a long time. His own daughter didn’t even help him. She wouldn’t come to the house.”

  I frowned. “Della said she didn’t feel comfortable. She felt like she was interrupting.”

  “That’s what she said.” Ingrid stared into the distance. “But I don’t know if that’s true. Seems to me a daughter should want to take care of her father.”

  There was truth in that. “All I know is what she told me.”

  Ingrid smirked. “What people say and who they are tend to be two different things.” Ingrid rose. “Take care of that familiar vessel. It’s like Willow Dean thought—people will want to come after you for it. People always want something they can’t have.”

  I rose and the bench disappeared. I thanked Ingrid for sitting with me.

  “Anytime, Pepper, anytime.”

  Ingrid strode away, disappearing from sight. Peaches appeared beside me.

  “Are you ready? We’re going to be late.”

  The sun burned down the sky. I kicked my foot through Peaches. “Nothing’s going to happen until it gets dark anyway.”

  “You never know.” Peaches sniffed. “It’s better to be safe than sorry.”

  As we continued on our path, I realized the wave of nausea was gone and I wondered how much of it had to do with the vision finally receding or if Ingrid Puryear’s absence had something to do with it.

  “So what are we looking for?”

  I sat in Axel’s Land Rover. Peaches hovered on my lap, which was strange. The cat wasn’t exactly the most cuddly, so the fact that he had kneaded my legs with his paws and then curled into a tight ball to watch CJ’s house had me somewhat perplexed.

  Axel draped a hand over the bucket seat. “We are looking to see what CJ does. He’s been stewing on what we said all day.”

  I frowned. “How do you know?”

  Axel’s gaze snapped to me. “You can’t tell?”

  “Can’t tell what?”

  “That he’s a stewer.”

  I giggled. “You made that up.”

  He lifted his palms in surrender. “I swear I did not. I took one look at him and saw he’s a stewer. As soon as we seeded in CJ’s head that he might’ve harmed Albod, it got him thinking. Worrying. He needs to worry because we’re trying to figure out this case.”

  I smiled broadly at him. My heart swelled. Axel made my spirit buoy with happiness.

  He caught me grinning at him and pulled me in for a quick kiss. “You know,” he said in his husky voice, “ever since I was a kid, I had a thing for redheads.”

  I laughed. “You moved to the right town. Lots of redheads here.”

  “But none of them are you.” He threaded his fingers through mine, and for a moment I forgot we were on a stakeout, that there was anyone else in the world except for us and the ghost-cat, Peaches, who purred softly.

  He’d fallen asleep. What a good stakeout cat he turned out to be, I thought sarcastically.

  Axel stroked my hair as we watched CJ’s house from a distance. “There might be lots of redheads in this town, but there’s only one of you.”

  “You’re just saying that.”

  “No, I’m not,” he growled.

  I tipped my head back to look at him. “I know. I was kidding.”

  “You’d better be.”

  We sat in silence for a moment. Axel sighed. “I could stay like this forever. Everything about you and me is so peaceful. People might still have some reservations about me since I change into a werewolf, but here with you, I can forget all of that.”

  I curled my fingers in his shirt. “What was it like when you were growing up?”

  “Hard,” he said quickly. “It’s hard to make friends when witches don’t know what to do with you and wizards aren’t sure either. My parents tried to keep folks from knowing about me and my brother, but secrets like that can’t stay hidden for long. Witches have a way of sniffing out werewolves. My father’s identity was discovered, and from then on my brother and I were teased. Not by everyone but by some.”

  His voice didn’t harbor any pain, but I knew some had to exist. I’d known Axel long enough to sense when something disturbed him. Sometimes the lack of emotion in someone proved that deep pain flowed like a river beneath a calm exterior.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  His lips brushed the top of my head. “Don’t be. It wasn’t your challenge, though it would be if we ever left Magnolia Cove.”

  I lifted my head from his chest and frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Magnolia Cove tolerates me because I’m a wizard. Other folks wouldn’t be so kind.”

  I remembered a story Rufus Mayes had told me about a young girl named Georgia and how she was born half werewolf like Axel. Her mother had kept the girl’s bloodline a secret until a tragic event occurred.

  The way the citizens of Magnolia Cove had treated that young girl had been horrible.

  Even the most idyllic towns hide dark secrets.

  I shivered. “What do you mean, other people wouldn’t be so kind?”

  “This may come as a surprise, but a lot of witches don’t like werewolves. Some dislike me even more because I’m both.”

  “Why?”

  “They think I can work magic as the beast. Wield more power than they do.”

  I smirked. “You are a pretty powerful wizard.”

  Axel’s thumb grazed over my cheek. His blue eyes bored into me, sending a shudder running down my spine. “I’m nothing compared to you.”

  I shrugged. “Yeah, yeah.”

  I didn’t exactly feel like discussing my powers. Not with all the talk of the Head Witch Order going on. Instead I wanted to focus on me and Axel.

  I snuggled against his chest. “I agree with you; I could stay like this forever. Maybe on a couch though. It would be more comfortable. Oh, and can there be a roaring fire in front of us?”

  “You’d rather that than a burning Yule log on the TV?”

  I laughed. “Yes, I’d much rather that than a fake fire.” We quieted, and then I said, “Those folks didn’t know what they were missing.”

  He squeezed me against him. “Oh no?”

  “You’re the best guy I’ve ever known, along with my father, I mean. You care about people. You’ll drop anything to help someone in need. You don’t burden others with your problems.”

  “That’s because I don’t have any problems.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You know w
hat I mean.”

  “And you, Pepper.” Axel raised me until we sat staring at one another. He cupped my face in his hands. “You fill my days with light and love. You make living an adventure. Your joy gives me joy.” He pressed his forehead to mine. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “Let’s hope you never have to find out,” I murmured.

  We kissed, and at the same moment a door banged shut. Our lips broke apart, and my gaze darted toward CJ’s house.

  Sure enough, the wizard stomped down his front steps, hopped on his flying cast-iron skillet and took off.

  “Now, to see where you’re going,” Axel said.

  “How are we going to follow him? He’s flying and we’re in a truck.”

  Axel retrieved his cast-iron skillet from the back seat. “Come on.”

  I awoke Peaches, who mumbled something about beauty sleep even though he was dead, and we ambled from the car.

  “Your skillet only seats one,” I pointed out.

  Axel smirked. “Oh ye of little faith.” He curled one hand around the stem of the skillet and slid his hand down beyond the tip.

  Power sparked from his fingers. Symbols and circles of magic filled the air around the skillet.

  And miraculously the cast-iron skillet grew until it was long enough to hold two people.

  “Wow. Pretty impressive.”

  Axel shot me a devilish wink. “Get on. We’ll cloak ourselves to follow him.”

  I hiked one leg over and tied my hands around Axel’s waist. One of his hands covered mine. “Hold on.”

  The skillet lifted into the air, rising over the houses and trees. Once we’d cleared the structures, Axel zipped the skillet forward.

  Wind lashed my hair. I buried my face in Axel’s shoulder, and I will freely admit I inhaled his scent.

  Axel leaned forward, and a surge of power exploded from the skillet, pushing us faster. I tightened my thighs around the stem and held tightly to Axel.

  CJ appeared in the distance, perhaps a hundred feet away or so.

  “He can’t see us,” Axel called to me.

  “He can’t hear us either, right?”

  Axel’s mouth curled into a delicious smirk. “That goes without saying.”