Southern Belles and Spells Matchmaker Mysteries

by Amy Boyles

  “I ran into Rots Smythe,” I said candidly, “and happened to ask him about Corley.”

  “And how do y’all know her name?” Thorne said.

  “Oh, I thought that was common knowledge now,” I said.

  Thorne scowled. Obviously it was true. “Anyway, Rots and Corley argued on the platform, so I asked him about it.”

  Thorne scratched the stubble on his cheek. “I find it intriguing that a man who’s holed himself up for his research is now out wandering about.”

  “Me too.” I added in my most shocked voice, just to up the ante, “But I ran into him in Water Town.”

  My mother’s brows shot to peaks. “Oh, really?”

  “Yes, and my hair went haywire while I was there.”

  Mama shot me a look that suggested that needed to be investigated, which is exactly what I thought as well.

  “Well, your hair looks great now,” Thorne murmured.

  He saved me from dying via pot roast, brought flowers and then complimented my hair. What the heck was wrong with him?

  I shoved my food around on my plate while Mama flashed me a look that said if I didn’t thank Thorne, I would get a spanking.

  “Thanks,” I murmured, glancing over at him.

  “So this spell on Reese,” Thorne started, “you’re saying that Corley may have specifically tailored it to her.”

  “Right,” Mama said. “But unless we know what they spoke about or even more about Corley, then I’m afraid we’re shooting in the dark, so to speak.”

  Rose hand-fed Pig a green bean. “Well, what else would a future bride have spoken about but the man she hoped to marry?”

  Mama’s gaze locked on mine. “That’s exactly right. She would’ve spoken about Jamison.”

  “Which is how Corley knew about Jamison in the first place. She obviously took up with him to get away from someone.”

  Thorne made a stop gesture. “Can the three of you please calm down and let me and my team do the investigating?”

  “But we’re so good at it.” I flashed him a genuine smile, and Thorne smiled back.

  Ugh. For the second time I’d caught myself being nice to the vampire. I think I needed a lobotomy to set me straight.

  “But really, I’d appreciate it if y’all left the detective work to me.”

  “Of course,” I lied. “Just after we figure this out.”

  “Maybe Corley, like you suggested, didn’t plan on staying in town very long. Perhaps all she needed was a means to escape,” Mama mused.

  “But then that backfired with the welcome party,” I added. “So if she didn’t plan on staying around forever, as we think, and since Reese wasn’t murdered, simply put in a coma, that means either there’s a timer on the spell or something needs to happen to break it.”

  The doorbell rang.

  I rose. “It’s probably Jamison. I asked him to stop by and see Reese.”

  Then it hit me like a thousand tons of bricks cascading from the sky and pulverizing my body. I realized exactly what Corley had done.

  “A Sleeping Beauty spell,” Mama and I said at the same time.

  “Oh my gosh,” I exclaimed.

  “That’s it!” Mama rose. “Let’s get that boy in here.”

  I beat her to the door and flung it open. Jamison stood looking sheepish, his hand rubbing the back of his neck.

  “Hey, Miss Calhoun. Is this a good time?”

  I yanked him inside. “This is a great time. Jamison, we need you to do us a huge favor.”

  My mother nodded enthusiastically. “It’s very simple, really.”

  “Won’t take but a minute,” I said.

  Jamison nodded. “Sure. What do you need?”

  I licked my lips and girdled my courage. “We need you to kiss Reese.”

  Jamison’s gaze lingered on me before dragging to my mother. He opened his mouth and then slipped to the floor in a dead faint.

  Rose stepped over to us. “Well, that’s one way to ask him.”

  Chapter 10

  Thorne pulled me aside after he’d moved an unconscious Jamison to the couch. “You can’t have a man kiss a woman without her permission.”

  Frustration churned inside me. “What are you talking about?”

  His brow wrinkled, and a scowl crossed his face. “I’m talking about women’s rights. If you let Jamison kiss an unconscious woman and certain people find out, this could be disastrous. Not only for the investigation but for you and your company. It would be a media storm.”

  I nibbled the tip of my fingernail. Oh my gosh, I hadn’t thought about that, but Thorne was right. Allowing Jamison to kiss an unconscious woman without her consent, since we obviously couldn’t get it, could cause all sorts of problems.

  “But if it’s a Sleeping Beauty curse, that’s the only way to break it.” Thorne turned away, but I grabbed his arm. Heat from his skin radiated through his shirt. The intensity of the warmth startled me, and I released my grip.

  “This isn’t about me or about you and your interfering family,” he said briskly. “It’s about the sleeping woman in this house. Find another way.”

  My gut twisted in anguish. “What if there isn’t another way? You need her awake, Thorne.”

  His name on my lips tasted like sweet nectar. Our gazes snagged on one another, and I swear emotion flashed across his face before it vanished back into the stony expression I was used to.

  “Find another way,” he growled. “There has to be one. I can’t allow an unconscious woman to be kissed by a strange man.”

  I fisted my hands. “He’s her soul mate. He’s not a stranger.”

  Thorne dropped his voice. “Yes, and Jamison thought Corley was his soul mate, didn’t he? You saw how he swooned over her. To him, she was Reese, and now we’re asking him to jump over to another woman—the real one—and kiss her so that they can live happily ever after and we can figure out who murdered the fake Reese.”

  He paused, letting his words sink in. “Do you hear how insane that sounds?”

  “It doesn’t sound insane,” I squeaked.

  It did sound loony.

  He threw back his head and laughed. When he glanced at me, I was shooting him such a fiery look that Thorne yanked me by the elbow out the door and onto the porch.

  “It does sound insane. There’s absolutely nothing coherent about having him kiss Reese. What if you were in the same situation, would you want a man who’d just professed his love for one woman to suddenly want to kiss you?”

  I folded my arms and jutted out my chin. “Did you ever stop to think that maybe Corley spelled Jamison? Perhaps he wasn’t acting on his own, but she was using him. Did that enter that thick vampire skull of yours?”

  “Oh, so we’re back to that, are we? I’m a big bad vampire and you’re a perfect witch.”

  “I never said I was perfect.”

  “You don’t have to,” he spat. “The way you prance around this town like you own the place says it all.”

  “I’ve been hired to help Witch’s Forge,” I screamed. “At least I’m not imprisoned here because I ticked off my daddy.”

  Every word that spewed from me felt good. It felt great to get all my pent-up frustration out. Plus, what I’d said about Thorne was true. He was imprisoned here because he’d turned a dying woman his father loved into a vampire.

  Please don’t focus too hard on the romantic part of that. Thorne was a brute—plain and simple.

  “Why did I bring you those roses?” he said quietly.

  Of all the things he’d said, that struck me the hardest. Did he regret them? Well, I wasn’t going to let him regret it.

  I rushed back inside and snatched the flowers from the vase. When I returned, the shock on his face as I shoved the flowers into his chest almost undid me.

  “If you’re so sorry you gave them to me, here. Take them back. I don’t want them. Thank you for your company,” I spat. “I hope your steak was bloody enough. I’ll be sure to tell my mother you said goodby
e.”

  I stalked off toward the house. As I opened the door, I could swear I heard Thorne chuckle.

  I slammed it behind me.

  “Thorne says we can’t have Jamison kiss Reese.”

  Jamison was still out, and I’d gathered my family in the dining room.

  “Well, I suppose you ran him off,” Mama chirped.

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means,” Rose started to explain, “that your mother thinks you showed Thorne a bit of that bad attitude and temper you sometimes show off.”

  I crossed my arms. “I did not lose my temper.”

  Mama and Rose exchanged a look. “Dear,” Mama said soothingly, “why don’t you go ahead and admit you like the vampire? The world won’t suddenly explode if you say that. It’s obvious he likes you.”

  I choked on a gob of saliva that slid down my throat. Luckily I didn’t need the vampire to save me this time. After the way I’d acted, he was probably never coming back.

  “He doesn’t like me,” I argued.

  Mama fluffed out her hair, which was still holding up well, I had to say. “Oh no? He asked you to dance at the party, and then tonight he brought you flowers. The last I checked those were signs that a man had intentions about a woman.”

  “Your mother’s right,” Rose said. “Just be glad the mating rituals between vampires and witches are similar. What if a werewolf liked you? I think they bring their love interests dead birds. Wouldn’t that be awful? Open your door and there’s a bluebird with a broken neck on the porch?”

  I raked my fingers down my face. “That’s cats, Rose. Cats take their owners dead mice and birds. They do it in thanks. Not werewolves.”

  Rose frowned. “What do werewolves bring then?”

  “Gold slippers,” Mama said smartly. “Who knows? We’re talking about Charming and how she’s pushing Thorne away like she pushes away every man who shows the slightest bit of interest in her.”

  I scoffed. “That’s absolutely not true. I don’t push men away.”

  Mama gestured toward the door. “Then what do you call that? You shoved your roses in his chest and told him to take a hike. You’re only lucky he thought it was cute.”

  My cheeks flamed red. “What are you talking about?”

  She hiked a shoulder. “He thought your anger and rage were cute. Most large men think smaller women are adorable. No doubt he admires the spitfire in you.” She sniffed. “Something you get from me, obviously.”

  “Obviously.” I rolled my eyes. “But I take offense that I push men away.”

  “You do,” Mama said. “Anytime in the past when I suggested you spend more time with a boy, you always said they weren’t your type.”

  “That’s because they weren’t,” I fumed. “In high school you wanted me to go out with Gary Funkerdink. He ate chocolate and squeezed his pimples in class. It was disgusting.”

  Rose grinned widely. “This Gary sounds like an intriguing fellow. Where is he now? I’m sure he’s not popping his pimples.”

  “Who cares? He wasn’t my type.”

  Mama dismissed me with a wave of her hand. “You can’t argue with Charming, Rose. Anyway. We’ll drop the subject. All we’re trying to tell you is that the vampire likes you and it wouldn’t hurt for you to be a little nice back. After all, your job is to bring together people in love.”

  “I’m not in love and neither is he.” I raked my fingers through my hair and let my hand drop. “Can we please get back to the important conversation? We need Jamison to kiss Reese, but Thorne said it can’t happen.”

  Rose wrung her hands. “What are we supposed to do now? It’s not as if we can put lipstick on Pig and have her pretend to be Reese’s true love.”

  Mother studied me. “What are you thinking, Charming?”

  I exhaled a shot of air. “As much as I hate to say it, and I really do—but I think we should go behind Thorne on this one.”

  “But we always go behind Thorne,” Rose said. “I didn’t think you hated saying it then. Do you now?”

  I scoffed. “No. I just meant—” I flexed my fingers in frustration. “I just meant I feel bad doing it because Thorne warned it could cause real problems if it got out.”

  “If what got out?”

  Jamison had entered the room. My gaze dashed to Mama. I’ll be honest, I didn’t want to have to tell him our plan, especially now that Thorne had butted his head into the situation.

  But I supposed there was no choice. “Jamison—”

  Mama cut me off. “Did you want to see Reese?”

  Jamison scratched his head. “I thought you said something crazy like I needed to kiss her. Dudette, that would be totally weird as I don’t even know this woman.”

  Mama pinned Jamison by the arms and steered him toward her potion room. “I’m afraid that was Charming’s idea of a joke, Jamison. Don’t mind her. Come. Let’s see Reese. That’s what you wanted to do, isn’t it?”

  “I guess so.”

  Rose and I followed them to the room. “There she is,” Mama said. “Don’t you want to meet her?”

  She gently shoved Jamison forward. His knees locked as if he couldn’t walk any farther. The look of surprise on his face confused me.

  I couldn’t tell if he was excited or terrified. He reached a trembling hand toward her and paused midair.

  “She’s so different,” he whispered. “I thought that woman Corley was my soul mate, and Reese looks like an angel.”

  Agony washed over his face. I wanted to rush over to Jamison and throw my arms around his shoulders, but one look from Mother said to leave him alone.

  This was his moment.

  He leaned forward, and my breath hinged. It seemed that Jamison would kiss Reese, that he would break the spell. But when he stumbled back, I knew that dream was no more than smoke.

  “My mind is, like, blown,” Jamison said. Sorrow filled his eyes. “I’m sorry, dudette,” he said to me. “But I can’t do this right now.”

  With that, Jamison stumbled from the house and sprinted out the door. The three of us made it to the hallway to see him running, arms flailing, down the street.

  “Well, I suppose that was one way to get rid of him,” Rose said. “I guess we’ll be putting lipstick on Pig and seeing what she can do.”

  I shook my head. “We most definitely won’t. We’ll just have to cure Reese the old-fashioned way.”

  My mother folded her arms. “How’s that?”

  “Rots Smythe is hiding something. He contradicted himself when I spoke to him about Corley. And then there was a crash in his house and my hair got all screwed up. What if the answers lie inside the place he’s staying?”

  Mama tapped her lips as she considered it. “Seeing as we don’t have any other leads in how to help Reese, I say we go there.”

  “Let me grab my bag,” Rose said.

  I clutched her arm. “Rose. We’re not going during the day. We’ll go tonight. When it’s dark.”

  Mama frowned. “There’s only one problem. How do we get him out?”

  Rose glanced at Pig. “Leave that to me.”

  I smiled. “Great. Then it’s a date.”

  Chapter 11

  “I don’t know if my hair will ever recover from this,” Mama said. “At first I thought it was the humidity, but now it’s taking everything I’ve got to keep it in place.”

  Rose shook her head. “Look at me! I look like I shoved my finger in a light socket.”

  I touched my own wiry tresses before parting the bushes the three of us were huddled behind. “If we can figure out what he’s doing in there and stop it, maybe our hair will go back to normal.”

  “It had better,” Rose said. “I think it’s sucking out my brain.”

  Mama shook her head. “It’s not sucking out your brain.” She glanced down at Pig, who was nibbling the hedge. “Are you ready, Rose?”

  “Oh yes, I’m ready. Pig, are you?”

  Pig snorted a yes.

  “Come on.
” Rose gently pulled the leash, and Pig followed her through the shrub to the front of the house. Rose shoved back her shoulders and strolled across the sidewalk as if it was an everyday occurrence to be walking a pig on a leash.

  She rang the doorbell. A moment later Rots answered.

  I exhaled a sigh of relief that he was home. For once, Rots wasn’t wearing his coat. Which was great for us.

  Rose said something to him, and then Pig darted into the house, leash and all. Rots whirled around and disappeared back inside, yelling for Pig to leave.

  Next thing I knew, Pig darted back out the front door, the fur coat in her mouth. The fur trailed down Pig’s back, away from her feet.

  Thank goodness. I didn’t want the little piggy to trip.

  Rots reappeared and chased Pig down the street. Rose motioned for us.

  Mama and I fired out from the bush and headed toward her.

  “I told Pig to keep the fur for ten minutes,” Rose said. “So that’s what you’ve got.”

  I frowned. “What if Rots uses magic on her?”

  Rose smiled mischievously. “I’ve got that covered. Any spell he casts on her will dissolve.” She pushed us toward the door. “Now go.”

  We didn’t have long, and we had to be quick. I gritted my teeth, ignored how my stomach clenched in fear and went inside.

  The first thing I noticed about the house was that it was perfectly normal. Perfectly.

  Like, vanilla-colored walls, leather furniture and dark wooden tables and chairs.

  “Who lives here?” I murmured.

  This did not look like the type of place I expected Rots Smythe to inhabit. I was expecting to see more along the lines of black walls, maybe rats scurrying about and, oh, a skeleton. Like, just a skeleton hanging around.

  You know, because he was a killer and liked dead bodies.

  Okay, so my imagination was getting the best of me. It happened sometimes.

  “To the back,” Mama said.

  Her hair rose stiff and high. I grimaced. It was only going to get worse, I knew that.

  We wove through the house until we found it—a room with a black door.

  “Aha! I knew he had to have something black in here.”