by Bella Falls
The four of us sat down. I gripped the table to steady my shaking nerves.
The sheriff continued. “Each of you will have a helper, who will tie your hands behind your backs. They will also be responsible for replacing your consumed pies and keeping track of the emptied tins. Helpers, please take your places.”
“Good luck, Charli,” Gossamer offered through her giggles.
“Goss, do me a favor and try not to dust my pies. If I sneeze in the middle of this, it ain’t gonna be pretty.” No way did I want to make a bigger fool out of myself in front of everyone. Definitely not in front of the guys. Or my ex.
“I’ll do my best,” she promised.
Lily, Lavender, and Alison Kate gave me thumbs up and whooped my name. Lee crossed his arms and focused on Dash with a disapproving scowl. Huh. Since when were those two acquaintances?
“Care to make this interesting?” Dash growled.
“I don’t have anything to pay with,” I whispered back. The helpers placed the first pies in front of us.
“If I win, you can pay me with a date.” He eyed the pie and smirked as if it were a tiny morsel.
My, what big fangs he might have behind that smile. “A d-date?” I stuttered.
“And what if I win?” Mason leaned forward and stared down the other guy. “Do I get a date?”
“Deal. If either of you wins, you can go on a date with each other,” I nodded with mock bravery.
Before either of the guys could protest or my ex could throw his hat in the ring, Big Willie raised his hand. “On your mark. Get set. Go!”
I slammed my face into the pie tin, strawberry goo and whipped cream going up my nostrils as my mouth worked its best to devour the first pie.
“Done,” grunted Dash.
Mason followed next before Tucker asked for another pie. No matter how fast I swallowed, my first tin never seemed to be finished.
When the three men moved to their third pies, Gossamer finally replaced my first empty one with a new pie. Through the haze of whipped cream, I glimpsed at my Mt. Everest of strawberries. Knowing that I didn’t have a unicorn’s chance at winning, I decided to play the game my way.
Scooping up bits of pie in my hand, I added content first to Mason’s tin and then to Dash’s. The crowd erupted in laughter and cheers. I wiped off the mess from my face and licked my fingers in delight.
Big Willie roared with laughter. “By my count, Dash holds the lead with Detective Mason hot on his heels and Tucker Hawthorne bringing up the rear. Our dear Charli has decided to maintain her reputation as a troublemaker, adding an additional obstacle to the contest.”
In cahoots with Gossamer, we took my remaining pies and added to the other tins so that none of the boys truly held the lead. When Dash doubled his efforts to pull ahead, I plopped a larger amount of pie in his tin. Sassy hovered with her arms crossed in annoyance, her green head practically steaming at our disrespect to her masterpieces.
“And we’re coming to the end in three. Two. One. Stop eating,” called out Big Willie. “Time to count tins.”
All three guys lifted their faces covered in strawberries and whipped cream. Tucker seemed less than pleased, but Mason’s shoulders shook from snickering. He wiped a massive glob off his face and chucked it at me. It missed and hit Dash upside his head.
The wolf shifter growled, wiped both hands down his face, and flung even more pie fragments in Mason’s direction. It never made it that far, splattering on my face. I took the remains of the tin in front of me in both fists and shoved my hands in each of the guy’s faces, smearing the red and white glop around. By now, Tucker had removed himself from the carnage.
Big Willie stared us down. “Pull yourselves together.” He turned to the crowd. “Well, this may go down as the most memorable pie eating contest in Honeysuckle history. What do you say, folks?”
Cheers rose from the crowd until someone yelled out, “Who won? I’ve got a fiver ridin’ on this.”
Sassy pouted. “Isn’t Charli disqualified?” Every party needed a pooper.
“Yes, I would agree that Miss Charli cannot be the winner, although she is the most entertaining.” The sheriff pointed at me.
I stood up and took a bow, pie fodder falling off my face and onto the table.
“So that leaves us with Detective Clairmont and Dashiel Channing. And by my calculations, this one turned out to be much closer. Again, because of our girl, Charli, here. But if I had to call this one…” he paused, looking back and forth at the two men who stared each other down. “I’d have to call it a tie between the two.”
Boos floated up from the crowd, and Big Willie held up his hands. “However, since I am judge and jury in this competition, I have to say that due to Charli’s interference, I must disqualify the tie. Which means we have a winner in Mr. Tucker Hawthorne. Let’s give the man a big hand.”
Tucker walked back on stage, his face already clean and shining. He waved at the crowd. “On behalf of my family, my business with my partner, Ashton, and my soon-to-be wife, I thank y’all for the support.”
Before he left the stage, he came over to shake hands with the losers. He left me for last and pulled me into him. “So what do I win, Charli Bird?”
Since the sea of nosy townsfolk could see us, I slapped a polite smile on my face. “How about a big bag of nothing?”
“At least give me a chance to talk to you,” he pleaded.
“I think the lady made herself clear.” Dash approached with his hands closed in fists.
Tucker let me go and backed away. “At least think about it, Charli.” He turned and gave another wave to the crowd and left.
“You cheated,” accused Mason, bumping into me again.
“Did not.” This time, I kept my hip to myself. “And think about it this way. Since neither of you won, you don’t have to go out on a date with each other. So it’s a win-win-win, if you ask me.”
Unwilling to let them argue with me, I bolted from the stage, ready to never see another pie or strawberry for the rest of my life. However long that might be.
Chapter Thirteen
Crickets chirped their echoing chorus in the night air accompanied by croaking frogs. After parking on the side of a back road on the border of Tipper’s land, our little gang walked through the woods to our old hideout.
“There better not be any snakes out here.” Lily held up a lantern to light the way. She shrieked when Lee snuck up behind and grabbed her by her shoulders. “I’ll hex you seven ways to Sunday, Leland Chalmers, Jr.”
A strand of Spanish moss hit my face, and I spluttered. Peaches squirmed against me, but I held her close. I should have taken her to Nana’s, but no way would I introduce her to her new nemesis, Loki, without being there to referee. For the time being, she’d have to be a witness to tonight’s purpose.
The woods gave way to a field, and our destination came into view. The old dilapidated hut defied its age and definite tilt in its structure. Nearby, a shed of similar age sat like a faithful companion to the bigger wooden structure. Growing up, our perfect place to meet had been the lean-to that the local ‘shiners stayed in when they made their moonshine. For tonight, it needed to keep even more secrets.
“I can’t believe we decided to come here.” Lily ran her fingers across a filthy tabletop and placed the glowing lantern on it. Shadows danced on the walls surrounding us.
“Wow, this place hasn’t changed a bit.” Alison Kate stepped carefully into the one-room structure. “We should have gone to Lucky’s.”
“I can’t believe that the younger Honeysuckle generation wouldn’t want to hang out in our palace,” added Lavender. “And ask Lily why we couldn’t go to The End.”
I sniffed the air around her. “You know, you smell like peppermint.” The cloying scent fought the dank smell of must and dust in the hut.
Lavender grinned. “I took Ashton’s advice before we came here. The oil seems to have done the trick since my head no longer hurts. Ick, is that a nest of s
piders?” She flinched away from the corner.
I set my new orange kitty down on the wooden floors, and she proceeded to stalk around the place, inspecting every inch with no fear. Only her occasional sneezes marked her location.
Footsteps pounded on the creaky steps. “So what’s tonight’s password? I solemnly swear I am up to—”
“Don’t finish that,” I warned. “And get your behind over here, Bennett.”
Our other friend entered the hut and caught me up in his arms. “How ya doin’, pal?”
I’d forgotten how tall Ben had grown. “I think the bigger question is, what the blazes are you doing back in Honeysuckle? Last I’d heard, you took your foo foo law degree from the College of Charleston and headed up north to some fancy schmancy place to gain your advocate’s license.”
“Yeah, out of all of us, you’re supposed to be the success story.” Lee clapped him on the back.
After Ben had completed his law degree from the College of Charleston, he’d pursued his dream to obtain extra qualifications to defend and represent the magical community. Ever since he was young, he’d been the first to defend anyone who suffered injustice. He’d honed his argumentative skills convincing all of our parents at some point and time how the trouble we were in was worth a lesser punishment.
Using his height as an advantage, Ben curled my head in the crook of his arm and gave me a head noogie. “I did. I’m certified a Class One Advocate.”
“Don’t you mean Class A unicorn’s behind?” Lee smacked him, and Ben let me go so that the two boys could embrace in a manly hug.
Lily stayed quiet and out of the way, watching Ben with wide eyes, her old torch for him still burning steady. Alison Kate held a close second in the crush department, mooning over Lee.
Lavender watched her cousin and friend with barely contained amusement. Catching my attention, she shook from holding in her giggles and mouthed at me, “Pink. So-o-o pink.”
It took us long minutes to properly greet Ben and settle down. Blythe stormed the door in a huff, her conjured ball of light popping like a soap bubble. She pointed at me in between hard breaths. “What did you do to tick off Sassy?”
Holding up my hands, I widened my eyes in faux innocence. “Nothing, I swear.”
Alison Kate chimed in, “She ruined the pie eating contest.”
“Did not,” I countered. “What was there to ruin? And the town’s golden boy walked away with the win in the end.”
“I didn’t see you complaining about being caught in the middle of those two yummy guys.” Another giggle escaped Lavender.
“What guys?” Ben asked. “I’ve been gone too long.”
“The new detective. Mason Something. He came from a warden’s department somewhere up north, too. And Dash Channing.” Lee stopped his explanation and stared at the floor.
“Who’s this Dash person?” Ben lifted his eyebrows.
Lily snickered. “Some brooding bad boy that our Charli here is crushing on.”
“You know, I’m not sure which one she likes.” Lavender tapped her lip. “The glow about her didn’t dim no matter which one she talked to.”
I searched for my new kitten, desperate not to be the subject of this particular henpecking. Catching Peaches mid-pounce in attacking an unknown mass of something in the corner, I pulled her in to nuzzle. “The only crush I have is on Miss Peach Cobbler Yum Yum Fuzzy Pants here. Isn’t that right, Peachy Poo,” I cooed at my new best friend, who outranked every single person in the room at the moment.
Everyone exploded in guffaws and disbelief at my turn from cat hater to kitty mama. Peaches purred in great satisfaction at gaining the room’s attention. When I sat down cross-legged on the floor, she happily plopped down in my lap and proceeded to lick her body parts with no shame. The kitten had more bravery in her swishy stubby tail than I possessed in my entire body. If I wanted a chance at beating my odds, I needed all the help I could get.
“Sit your behinds down. We’ve got things to discuss.” I patted the floor and waited for the rest to obey.
Lily plunked herself down next to Ben and failed at attempting not to glance at him every two seconds. Her cousin narrowed her eyes as she watched me and missed Alison Kate sitting as close as possible next to Lee.
With a nervous sigh and bolstering myself by scratching the orange fur ball with my fingers, I poured out the long tale of everything that had happened since my return. When I got to Tipper and the death curse, more than one swear word exploded into the dingy room.
“So that explains it.” Lavender dashed a tear away from the corner of her eye. “There’s been a dark smokiness hovering around you. It fights with your other colors. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Her lower lip trembled, and her cousin reached over to rub her back.
“What can we do?” Lily couldn’t manage a glance my way.
“Not a lot,” Ben answered faster than me. “When I worked for the High Advocate’s office, we dealt with a high profile case of something like this. Although in that instance, it was the person who’d caused the death that had the curse on him. The only thing we could do was to help him get his affairs in order.” He pushed himself off the floor and paced to the window. “That blasted old fool.”
Unable to stomach much more discussion, I scratched Peaches and worried. The mood in the room plummeted, and silence filled the vacuum.
“Well. I think we all need a little something to help. Be back in a sec.” Lee moved too fast for us to ask him where he was going.
What had I thought I could accomplish by revealing the curse to them? All I’d managed to do was upset my friends and burden them with the knowledge of a tragedy they couldn’t change.
Blythe slapped her legs. “Well, the first thing we’re going to do is to stop calling it a death curse. Talk about a serious downer.” She crawled across the space in the middle and cupped my cheek for a second. Out of all my friends, I needed her to be strong. For all of us. Patting Peaches on the head, she knelt on her knees in front of me. “Let’s call it…Bob.”
“That’s the worst idea ever,” Lily muttered between a few hiccupped chuckles. “Besides, we have an Uncle Bob, and I don’t want to have to associate a curse with a family member.”
Alison Kate raised her hand. “What about something cute? Like Daisy. Or Pinky.”
“We could call it…Tim?” Ben offered.
“How about Tucker? Then every time I got mad at it, I could say, ‘Stupid Tucker.’” My amusement didn’t alleviate the heaviness around my heart.
Lee returned, shaking a mason jar of liquid in the lantern light. “Here, this ought to take the sting off the news of the curse.”
I sniffed. “We’ve decided to name it something else. Like that will help.” The wet blanket of depression dampened my mood.
“It might,” Lily insisted. She listed off the possibilities so far, and Lee dismissed each one.
He added in a couple of well-known villain’s names, but none of them worked. Peaches turned three times in my lap after her self-inflicted bath and settled down into a curled ball. Her general sweetness gave me the only glimmer of hope for good in the world. See, names were important, so we couldn’t waste the opportunity. Either we could give the curse our fear and make it stronger, or we could take that away.
I snapped my fingers. “Let’s call it Doozy.”
“Wait. Why?” Lee asked.
“Because who can be afraid of something called Doozy? Plus, I get to say things like, “Ooh, she’s a Doozy,’ or, ‘Be careful of that last curse. She’s a Doozy.’” My friends stared at me slack-jawed. “Okay, fine. At least you could carve on my tombstone Here lies Charli, Her curse was a Doozy, So let’s celebrate her life, By getting all boozy.”
“That’s not funny,” Blythe uttered through hysterical cackles.
“Not at all.” Lily wiped tears of laughter from her eyes.
“Speaking of boozy.” Lee unscrewed the lid on the mason jar. “I say we christen Doozy with a li
ttle of this special batch of moonshine.”
“Where did you get that?” Something about the liquor nagged at me.
Lee jerked his thumb behind him. “From Pappy’s still next door in the shed.” Lee’s family had a long line of moonshiners in it. But when his grandfather passed, so did the spirits production. Or so I thought.
“You’re making it again?” Ben took the jar and unscrewed it, sniffing the contents and coughing.
Lee puffed up his chest. “Yep. Back in business with a new partner. He works the process, and I add the old magic touch. This particular batch is specially made. We distilled it using the phases of the moon to give it a little kick. According to Tipper, it’s the best we’ve done yet.”
An all-too-familiar zing of ice flashed down my right arm. “What did you just say?”
Lee’s face dropped. “I know. The old guy always demanded first taste as his payment for the still being hidden on his land.”
A thought took root in my head as the ache in my arm throbbed again. Since being inebriated was like breathing for Uncle Tipper, I’d dismissed such an important detail of our last time together. “Lee, what do you mean that Tipper tasted the moonshine? Did he just sip from the jar?”
“Well, yeah. More than sip. If we left him to it, we’d have nothing left.”
“Have you had any yourself?”
He shook his head. “No. There wasn’t much to the batch, and what we had has already been promised.”
“And Uncle Tipper didn’t take any jars with him?” I pressed.
“No.” Lee crossed his arms. “Why the third degree?”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “Good.” And yet, frustration settled on my brow.
“Except…he did take his usual payment,” added Lee.
I swallowed hard in anticipation. “And how did you pay him?”
“He filled a flask to the brim. Look, let’s stop talkin’ about the stuff and get to drinkin’ it.” Lee took the jar back from Ben and raised it in the air. “To good ol’ Tip. And to gettin’ rid of Doozy.”
“Don’t,” I yelled, and smacked the jar from his hand. It shattered on the floor, its liquid contents draining through the cracks in the floorboards. Peaches jumped in my lap, her tail fluffing out in fuzzy fear.
