by Amy Boyles
“Got caught in the rain,” I said, flinging water off my hands.
Concern lined his face. “Hold on right there and I’ll get you a towel.”
Rufus took Lady gently from his shoulders and placed her on the floor. The dog glanced up at him, her big brown eyes seeming to ask why she’d been removed from her spot of privilege.
A side door opened, and Willard stood with three towels. “What in the world were you doing out in this rain?”
I wiped at my arms, but the towel only appeared to be spreading the water instead of mopping it up. “We got stuck. My truck broke down and my phone died, so we couldn’t call a tow.”
“Where’s the truck?” Willard asked.
“Back at the new Dooley place, the barn I’m working on.”
Willard’s face filled with sorrow. “I’m sorry about Sadie, Clem. I hated to hear it.”
I wrung out my hair and handed Willard the towel. “I hated to hear it, too, especially after what I’ve been discovering today.”
Willard extended his hand to Rufus. “Name’s Willard Gandy, this is my pharmacy and you must be John, the man suffering from amnesia.”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
Willard crossed his arms and appraised Rufus. “Have you been to a doctor?”
Rufus shook his head. “No, I’m afraid my malady can only be treated a different way.”
Willard cocked his eye at Rufus, studying him. Then a second later he wagged his finger. “Y’all two sit, and I’ll get some burgers and fries made up for you. Oh, and I’ll call a tow and get your truck in, Clem.”
“Willard, you are a lifesaver.”
He pressed a finger to his mouth to shush me. “Don’t go telling Malene. The knowledge might give her a heart attack.”
I laughed as Willard moved to the front door. He locked it and put the Out to Lunch sign up. “I was just about to take a break anyway. My techs are out, and it seems I can spare a few minutes to chat with the two of y’all.”
Rufus and I sat at the counter while Lady lay at my feet. Willard brought her a bowl of water and started chatting with us from the rectangular cutout that joined the kitchen with the shop.
“Where’s all your help? I mean the cooks.”
“I had the feeling that I was about to be needed, so I sent them all to lunch.”
A sizzling sound came from the kitchen, and the smell of cooking meat drifted over the counter and flew straight up my nose. My stomach growled.
Rufus cocked a brow, and I hugged my belly, wishing my stomach would remain silent.
“You sent all of them,” Rufus asked, his lips tugging into a sly grin. “Because you had a feeling?”
I rolled my eyes, knowing exactly what Rufus was hinting at. His words and tone suggested that Willard had some sort of magic hidden up his sleeve. I shook my head, silently telling Rufus that he was wrong, absolutely wrong.
“Sometimes I have feelings,” Willard said between flipping burgers, “like today. I knew that a wizard would be stopping by. What I didn’t know was that Clem would bring him with her.”
My blood turned to stone. Had I heard him correctly? No, Willard couldn’t have said what I thought.
Rufus leaned back in his stool. Water dripped from his dark hair, splashing onto his shoulders. He leveled his gaze on mine, his dark eyes laughing at me.
“I’ve been telling Clementine that there is magic all around her in this town, but she refuses to believe me,” Rufus said.
Willard came around the partition with two plates in his hand. Cheeseburgers sat surrounded by a moat of French fries.
“Here you go.” Willard wiped his fingers on a towel tossed over his shoulder. “In a place like Peachwood, we often only see what we want to see.”
My jaw dropped. “Willard, what is going on? Peachwood doesn’t have magic. There’s nothing here. The people aren’t magical. Okay,” I said, rethinking that, “I may have met some sort of wizard mafia today, and now you’re talking about wizards, but that’s it, right?”
“Gotta stay away from the wizard mafia. They aren’t any good,” Willard murmured.
“You’re telling me.”
Willard smiled and wiped down the counter. “We see what we want to. When you came to Peachwood, did you want to have anything to do with magic?”
I picked at my fries, which were too hot to eat. “No,” I admitted. “I’d just been attacked magically.”
“By whom?” Rufus asked.
I ignored his question. “I needed peace and quiet, so I came here, looking for solace.”
“And that’s what you got, wasn’t it?” Willard asked.
“It was, but now I’m discovering that everything I thought about this place is wrong. I didn’t want to live in a world with magic, and yet here it is.”
The pharmacist thought about that. “Not everything or everyone is magical. A lot of the folks who came to Peachwood did so for the same reasons as you—they wanted a refuge, a place where they could live normally. Heck, I’m one of those. So are plenty of others.”
I stared up at Willard as if seeing him for the very first time. His gray hair just brushed the tops of his ears and his sage-green eyes held kindness and compassion. The lines that signaled his age looked as if he had earned every one—their etching on his skin making Willard look wise instead of haggard.
“Clem, the truth is, until you were ready to talk about magic and have something to do with it again, the power in this town was shut off from you. You didn’t want it, and your desire was honored.”
That made sense, but I wasn’t sure I liked it. “What about Sadie? She was my best friend. Did she know? Was she a witch?”
Willard shook his head. “That would have been Sadie’s business, not mine. But as for you,” he said to Rufus, “what do you think happened?”
Way to not answer my question, Willard.
“I don’t know,” Rufus said. “I awoke on the outskirts of town. Maybe you can help me; I’m looking for a memory spell. Do you know where I can find one?”
Willard thought about it. “All the spells around here were gathered and made impossible to find.” Willard brushed a hand down his stubbled chin. “However, it’s rumored that old Dooley’s place has some spells, but I’ve never seen them—none of us can.”
I shot Rufus a knowing look. He quirked a brow in reply. We were thinking the same thing. He had seen spells, and so had I. But no one else could?
“You’ll have to be careful. Dooley catches you and he’s likely to fill your backside with shotgun pellets.”
“One could ask,” Rufus suggested.
“You could,” Willard said, rubbing his chin, “but Dooley doesn’t like folks poking around out there. It’s rumored he’s got something big buried in the ground. No one knows what it is, and no one’s brave enough to investigate, I imagine.”
“Hmm, that makes this awkward,” Rufus said.
“Why don’t you try other means? Much of the magic in this town is tied to those spells, but if you got enough witches together, they might be able to conjure up a memory spell so that you don’t have to look for a single glowing ball.”
“It’s tempting,” Rufus said, “but the problem with that is, the other spells hold a lot of power. I don’t know much, and some of my magic is returning, but the ones I’m searching through don’t have lingering thoughts or feelings of the creator. If someone worked a memory spell on me right now, I’m afraid that their own feelings could come into play and either make my memory problem worse…”
“…or ruin it altogether,” I murmured.
Rufus’s gaze cut to me. “Exactly. No, I need a different spell.”
“Well, I wish you luck,” Willard said. “If I had a bottle of pills behind the counter that could help you out, I’d give ’em to you, but I don’t.” He wiped down the counter absentmindedly. “It’s funny about Peachwood—power here always seems to come with a price.”
I thought of the hammer and couldn’t agree with
Willard more.
Willard tossed the towel over his shoulder. “Now, I’ll leave you two kids alone so that you can eat in peace.”
As soon as he was gone, I turned to Rufus. Y’all, I did not know what made me say it, but I suddenly said, “If you go out there, Dooley will fill your rear end with buckshot.”
Goodness, wasn’t that what I wanted? But this Rufus, the one sitting beside me, had been nothing but helpful.
“Don’t tell me that you’re worried about me.” He gave a fry to Lady, who quickly gobbled it up. It almost annoyed me that he was feeding my dog, but if he hadn’t, I would have.
“I’m not worried about you. I just don’t want you to go out there and make a big mess of magic or, like I said originally, shine a light on things that some of us would rather stay buried.”
“You didn’t bury your hammer today,” he said.
I glanced down at the tool on my belt, which now sat on the floor, drying. “That’s about the extent of what I’ll do.”
“That and knock people down.”
“You frightened me when we met.”
Rufus glanced at his food, and I noticed that his eyelashes nearly brushed his cheeks. Like, why would anyone bestow a man with lashes that long? It wasn’t fair.
They should have been mine.
“I don’t know who I am and I don’t know what I’m really like, but I hope when I do find that out, I’m not ashamed of my past.”
Boy, are you in for a world of hurt.
But his words seemed sincere. Who would Rufus be when his memory returned? Would he embrace his evil past, or would the man sitting before me win out?
“What if…” I started to ask and faltered. Rufus’s gaze leveled on mine, and his dark eyes held worry.
“What if what?” he asked. “I discover something that I don’t like?”
“Yes.”
He shrugged. “I suppose things go on, don’t they? What if I discover that I have a wife and kids? What if I discover that I own a zoo but now I could care less about it?”
“Well, if I had a zoo, I would care about it,” I teased.
He laughed and it was a pleasant sound. Rufus possessed a level of charm that some women might find attractive.
Some women, not me.
“If I discover that I own a zoo, you can have it.” He pressed his hands to his heart. “It will be my gift.”
I shook my head. “No thanks, it’s your zoo.”
“But I insist. You see,” he said dramatically, “I’ve realized that I no longer care for such things and think it would be better in your capable hands. Just don’t go trying to use that golden hammer on anything. You do that and you might end up with a dilapidated zoo and tick off all the animals. See? I’ve already established that I can not only be nice, but I can be generous as well.”
“So generous,” I said with a roll of my eyes.
“Now”—he settled back, studying me—“you know my greatest fear.”
“Oh?” I said lightly. “Is that really your greatest fear?” I didn’t believe it, but I was willing to play along.
“Yes.” He sobered, picking at his fries. “Now you know what sits in the hollow of the stomach of John, the man who can’t remember his own real name. But there’s one thing I know.”
“What’s that?”
He wiped grease from his fingers and crumpled his napkin. “My name most certainly isn’t something as pedantic as John. I’m sure whatever my real name is, it has flare.”
“Hmmm. Maybe so.”
“Now,” he murmured, “I wonder what makes you tick.”
Steel barriers sprang into my eyes. “What do you mean?”
“If I had a wound, Clementine Cooke, I would tell you. What’s your wound? Why did you attack me when we met?”
His gaze searched mine, and I inhaled deeply, sucking as much air as I could before continuing on.
Chapter 15
Images of that night, of his smile, of our time together rocked me. I brushed crumbs from my fingers and shoved the plate away.
“I don’t have any wounds,” I said tightly. “I explained why I did that. You were out at night, it was late and I was surprised. That’s all. A girl has to stay safe.”
He nodded but didn’t buy my story. Rufus wouldn’t press me, and that was fine. Press me too hard and not only would I bite, but I also punched.
The sound of a bolt unlocking grabbed my attention. Willard opened the front door with a flourish. The rain had stopped, and out front sat my truck behind a towing vehicle.
“Look what’s back,” he said with a wink. “I’m guessing that if you try it now, your old truck’ll start right up.”
I grabbed my purse. “What do we owe you for lunch?”
He shook his hand. “Don’t worry about it. It’s on me. Just take care of yourselves.”
Rufus thanked Willard, and we stepped outside. The driver unhooked my truck, and sure enough, as soon as I cranked her, she started right up. I gave the driver the last of what was left in my wallet and sighed.
Rufus stood on the sidewalk. The rain had stopped, but both of us were still wet.
“Need a ride?” I asked.
Rufus shook his head. “No. I’m perfectly capable of walking, thank you.”
Was he angry with me? “I can give you a ride to the bed and breakfast.”
“It’s just down the street.”
Lady sat by Rufus’s feet as if she didn’t want to leave him. I patted my thigh, and she padded over and scrambled onto my lap.
“You’re not going to Dooley’s tonight, are you?”
He shook his head. “I don’t want to involve you in my activities. You’ve been kind enough to help me, but some things I must do alone.”
I frowned. “Why won’t you just say it?”
“Why does it matter to you what I do? You don’t know me.”
My lips parted and I nearly blurted out, but I do, yet I kept my lips shut. “Because I like helping people.”
His eyes narrowed. Rufus closed the distance between us in a flash. I sucked air at how close he was. The fresh scent of rainwater from his skin wafted up my nose while those long eyelashes framed dark eyes and his marble-like flesh nearly glowed.
He spoke, his words biting. “The next time you decide to lie to someone, make sure that they can’t see through the thin veil of your words.”
As I sat there, mouth gaping, engine running, Rufus backed away from the truck and stalked off down the street. He left me wondering why it was me who suddenly felt so bad when it should have been him.
Though it was tempting to chase him down and force him to bend to my will, I left Rufus alone. He wouldn’t be going out to Dooley’s farm anytime soon, at least not before changing his clothes.
Speaking of, since I was still drenched, I decided to head home myself to shower and change. While driving, I mulled over the events of the day. My mind zipped back to Sadie. Fact—she had received phone calls that bothered her on the day of her death. Another fact, her phone was missing.
I wondered if it would ring. Keeping my eyes on the wheel, I fished around in my purse until I located my phone. Miraculously it had power once again. Sadie’s number sat at the top of my favorites. My heart tightened.
“Oh Sadie, why didn’t you tell me about the money? We could have worked through it together.”
I had figured that my best friend took money from the mobsters and put that back into the bank so that we’d have something until we received payments from whatever job we were working on. Once the dough rolled in, that money went to me and Liam, so that we were none the wiser, and then the cycle began again.
Still, I was angry as much with myself as I was her. Sadie had relied on my lack of interest in our bank account to take advantage of me. What friend did that?
If I had to guess how long the theft had been occurring, I would say years. From the line of withdrawals that I had seen on the account, they spanned back months and months.
Y
’all, I’d been hoodwinked by my own friend.
I pressed the button for her number, but the call went straight to voice mail. Looked like I wouldn’t be tracking down her killer that way.
The house was a welcome sight when we arrived. “Come on, Lady. Let’s get cleaned up.”
She wagged her tail as I scooped her into my arms and exited the truck. After setting her down, I grabbed the tool belt and headed inside.
Twenty minutes later and I was showered, warm and drinking a cup of hot coffee with chocolate syrup in it. The bag of Sadie’s things called to me, and I went through her purse again, finding her keys.
Hmm, I wondered if she had any money or anything at her house? What if Sadie had stashed loot there? It would be rightfully mine. Deciding it wouldn’t be a bad idea to investigate her home, I dropped the keys in my purse.
My phone buzzed, and I glanced at it to find a text from Shane. I know we said we’d get together soon. How does tomorrow night sound?
It sounded amazeballs.
It sounds great, I replied.
Great. Pick you up at six. The town’s antisocial social will be happening. Maybe we can stop by.
Every year Peachwood put on a party called the Anti-Social Social. Essentially it was an ice cream social, but instead of being social, you were supposed to be anti-social and not speak to anyone.
Yes, y’all, I know that Peachwood had some weird quirks about it.
I was just putting the phone down when it rang and Liam’s name popped up on the screen.
Then I remembered—I was supposed to be at the funeral home. Jumping Jehoshaphat!
“Liam, I’m on my way,” I said, shouldering my bag. “I’m so sorry. I had Dooley to deal with and today’s just been a mess.”
“It’s okay, Clem,” Liam said, lifeless. “We were just about to leave.”
“No, don’t leave!” I ran out my door and slammed it behind me, locking it quickly. This was my chance to meet Sadie’s mom and talk to her, find out if she knew anything about her daughter’s spending habits.
Liam agreed to stay, and luckily, since Peachwood was only about the size of a postage stamp, it only took about eight minutes to reach the funeral home.
