Hemlocked and Loaded

by Annabel Chase

  “I’ll check our schedules,” I said. “It’s so busy right now, you know. The big day is weeks away and still so much to do.”

  “If you need any help, I can recommend a wedding muse,” Hayley said.

  I waved her off. “I’ll be fine, thanks. If you know a muse who can add a few more hours to the day, though, that would be perfect.”

  Hayley laughed. “I think we can all use one of those.”

  I tapped an imaginary watch on my wrist. “And no surprise that my time here is up. Sorry, Begonia, but I’ve got to run to meet Daniel to look at wedding venues, then I’m off to the casino.”

  “That sounds fun,” Begonia said.

  “It would be, if Astrid and I weren’t going to interview a suspect. The autopsy report showed that Seamus died from hemlock poisoning, so it’s officially a murder investigation.” Astrid’s owl had delivered the message this morning on my way to the academy. To say I was surprised was an understatement.

  Demetrius wore a grim expression. “Is that the pixie over in the Enchanted Woods? I heard he choked on a carrot.”

  “Apparently not.” I gave Begonia a quick peck on the cheek. “I’ll let you know about dinner.”

  I left the building and began to run, not wanting to be late for Daniel. For once, I actually wished I had my broom.

  That night Astrid and I met at Shamrock Casino to talk to Maxwell, the leprechaun who’d loaned money to Seamus. No surprise that Maxwell worked at the casino. It seemed that every leprechaun in town had a stake in the gambling business the same way all the vampires seemed to own a stake in the Blood Bank cooperative.

  We located Maxwell at a card table in the back of the room. It was the middle of a shift and he was busy dealing to five customers.

  Astrid cracked her knuckles. "I'm so anxious to play, but I know I can't right now.”

  "Yes," I agreed. "Probably not the best time to lose money when you're on official duty."

  She shot me a horrified glance. "Who says I would lose money? You seem to forget how often I kick your butt at poker."

  I smiled. "Not as often as Lucy."

  Astrid rolled her eyes. "You got me there. That fairy has a gambling gene. I can't compete with her skills.”

  “I think it’s more her competitive nature. She’d gather more souls than you on the battlefield even though she’s not the Valkyrie,” I said.

  “I’m not so sure about that,” Astrid said.

  The sheriff flashed her badge and signaled to get Maxwell's attention. A replacement dealer was quickly brought in so he could take a break. In his green waistcoat and tiny black hat, he was the quintessential leprechaun.

  “With that shiny badge, I take it you're not here to play, ladies,” he said, approaching us.

  "Unfortunately not," Astrid said. "Official business only. Is there somewhere private we can talk?"

  Maxwell beckoned us to the employee break room. It was nearly as loud and busy in there as in the casino itself. The leprechauns were a lively bunch, each one telling a story with more animation and humor than the last. We sat at a bistro table in the back corner of the room for as much privacy as possible.

  "This is about dearly departed Seamus, isn't it?" he said, his expression somber. "I heard the news from a customer."

  "Seamus was a friend of yours, wasn't he?" Astrid asked.

  Maxwell nodded somberly. "Good friends. We go back years. We were both the wee lads in our class at school. We looked ridiculous sitting between these hulking werewolves and trolls. Seemed only natural to become friends."

  The pixie and the leprechaun. It sounded like a good fable. Or a bar joke. "We understand you had a falling-out with your good friend, Seamus,” I said.

  Maxwell appeared contrite. "It all seems silly now. I was so angry about the money. Who cares about money, right? You can’t take it with you.” His face soured. “Can’t take anything with you except your dignity, and even that fails sometimes.”

  "Can you tell us more about the dispute?" Astrid asked. “We were told he owed you money?"

  Maxwell blew out a breath. "Yeah. I loaned him a bag of coins last year, after his girlfriend left him. He needed money to pay her half of the living expenses those first few months. Their budget had been tight with him between jobs and her leaving put him in a bad spot financially."

  "Did he ask you for money or did you offer?" I asked.

  "I offered," Maxwell replied. “It never would have occurred to Seamus to ask.”

  "So what happened?" Astrid asked. "He decided not to pay you back?"

  Maxwell covered his pink cheeks with his hands. "That's probably how I made it seem to him, that he decided not to pay me back. He was trying to find a decent job—a job that paid enough so that he could afford to stay. He was desperate not to move, and I didn't blame him. It had been his mother’s house before she died and he was very attached to it. His life was turned upside down when Leanne left him. I didn't want to make it worse by demanding the money back."

  I frowned. "If you were sympathetic, why were you upset about his failure to pay you back?”

  Maxwell flicked a bit of lint from his sleeve. “Part of me felt like it was tough love," he said. “That I was being the friend he needed. He’d been wallowing in self-pity for months. I wanted him to snap out of it. I began to think the only way I could do that successfully was to force his hand. I figured if I took drastic action, it might motivate him to make the changes he needed to make."

  I began to feel sorry for Maxwell. It did seem like he was trying to be a good friend, even though it wasn’t exactly the way I would’ve gone about it. He clearly regretted it now.

  "Did you ever confront him about the loan?" Astrid asked.

  "We had one argument about the money,” Maxwell said. "It was here, actually. I even got in trouble for it because customers overheard us. I was feeling worked up that night because Leanne had come in with her husband and Seamus had seen them. I was upset for him. I worried that he’d go further down the shame spiral. I guess I overreacted." He closed his eyes, full of regret. "I should have been more supportive. It was dumb to think I could make him heal faster by withdrawing my friendship. He was down and I kicked him. Hard."

  “I’m sorry, Maxwell,” I said. “Your heart was in the right place.”

  "Do you know why we’re talking to you about this?" Astrid asked.

  Maxwell rubbed his ear. "Now that you mention it, I don't. You don't normally go around asking questions about someone unless the death is suspicious, right?"

  Sheriff Astrid nodded sagely. "That's right. It’s an active murder investigation.”

  Maxwell blinked. "But I heard he choked on a carrot or something. How is that murder?"

  "It's murder when the victim ingests hemlock," I said. "Seamus didn't choke, Maxwell. He was poisoned."

  Maxwell sank deeper into his chair. Either he had the best poker face I’d ever seen or he was truly shocked by the revelation. "Hemlock? Why on earth would anyone poison a pixie like Seamus? He was harmless, a bit sad even."

  I offered him a sympathetic smile. "That's what we’re here to find out, Maxwell. Is there anything you can think of that would be helpful for the investigation? Anyone else he may have been at odds with?"

  Maxwell shrugged his tiny shoulders. "The only name that springs to mind is Leanne, but I don't see why she would have an axe to grind with him. She was the one who left him to rot."

  "What about Leanne's husband?" Astrid asked. "Is there any reason to think that he’d wish Seamus harm?"

  Maxwell’s brow wrinkled. "Now that you say that, Seamus and Leanne did have a moment together the night I saw them here. I thought she was just being nice, but maybe there was more to it than that and her husband didn't like it."

  "When you say they had a moment," I began, "what do you mean by that?"

  Maxwell rubbed his ear again. I recognized it as his thinking gesture. How about that? Even dealers had a tell. "They talked in private over by the slot machine.
I saw her hug him and kiss him on the cheek. I assumed she was only trying to cheer him up because he’d been such a sad sack, but who knows?"

  "And Leanne's husband saw them, too?” Astrid asked.

  Maxwell nodded. “Oh, yeah. It was very awkward for us when we saw them come in. The guy’s so different from Seamus. Uptight and dull as a dwarf.”

  “Maybe that’s exactly what attracted Leanne to him,” I said.

  Maxwell adjusted his crooked vest. “Could be. Wouldn’t surprise me that Seamus was too laid-back for her.” He heaved a sigh. “I say that like it didn’t bother me, of course, but I’m the one that decided to go the tough love route and lost my best friend." He paused and closed his eyes. "Forever."

  I gave his hand a gentle pat. "I'm sure deep down Seamus knew what you were up to and that your intentions were good. I know it’s hard, but try not to beat yourself up."

  "We should all get to roll the dice one more time," he said. "It's the least we deserve."

  I didn't disagree.

  Chapter 6

  Ready-to-Were was my favorite clothing boutique in Spellbound and there was no one I trusted more to make me look good on my wedding day than Ricardo. The wereferret had a magical sense of fashion that nobody could duplicate. Lucy was the only one that came close and she had the excuse of being a fairy.

  “It is my most favorite bride in Spellbound. Come in! Come in!” Ricardo pounced on us before we had a chance to fully enter the shop. He was decked out today in skinny lemon-yellow trousers, a black T-shirt, and a colorful striped scarf. Only a beret and a baguette were missing from the ensemble.

  “Thank you for spending the afternoon with us,” I said. “I know it’s going to be a lot of work.”

  “Ah, but it is the best kind of work.” He gave me a kiss on each cheek before he moved on to Lucy and my coterie of bridesmaids. “I see you brought your fashion sergeant with you.”

  “Fashion mayor,” Lucy corrected him. “And I’m here for moral support. I’ll only step in if I truly believe a fashion crime is being committed.”

  “Sounds reasonable to me,” Ricardo said. He ushered us further into the shop so we could fan out. “I’ve taken the liberty of pulling a selection of dresses I think you will adore. Bridal on the left. Bridesmaids on the right. Enjoy!”

  I directed the remedial witches to the right, while Lucy and I dug through the dresses on the left. To my surprise, they weren’t all white. He’d tossed in peach, cream, and even a salmon pink.

  “That one is in case you are feeling sassy,” he said, when he noticed my gaze pinned on the salmon pink.

  “I love it,” Lucy screeched, fluttering over to investigate. “I’d definitely go for this one.”

  “Given that Elsa was a pink freak, I think it’s best that I steer clear,” I said.

  Lucy’s lips puckered. “Good point.”

  “I have segmented them by color and levels of fancy,” Ricardo said. “Most of the options here are lower on the fancy scale because…well, it’s you, Emma.”

  “I don’t consider it an insult,” I said, smiling at him. “I’m not a fancy pants. Never have been.” Never had the opportunity to be fancy back in Lemon Grove. Shopping here was still a real luxury as far as I was concerned and I appreciated every second of it.

  “What about this one?” Lucy asked, lifting a hanger off the rack. The white dress was plain at the top with lace sleeves and lace trim at the bottom.

  “It’s pretty, but I’m not a lace person,” I said. “It reminds me of my grandmother’s doilies.”

  “What’s a doily?” Lucy asked.

  “She used them on tabletops to keep the wood from getting scratched, I think,” I said. “Anyway, they were made of white lace, so that’s what I think of.”

  “Are you thinking floor-length or shorter?” Ricardo asked. “Personally, if I had your legs, I would be showing them off on my wedding day.”

  “Thanks, but a micro-mini bridal dress isn’t my style,” I said. “Daniel might think I’m under a spell.”

  “We need a dress that screams ‘happiness,’” Lucy said. “Show us happiness, Ricardo.”

  He raised a finger. “That I can do.” He plucked a hanger from the far end and displayed a long white dress. It reminded me of a dress Elizabeth Bennet from Pride and Prejudice would wear. It was high-waisted in the Empire style with capped sleeves and a long, straight skirt.

  Lucy drew in a breath. “Great glitter balls. It’s perfect for you. That low, square neckline will be lovely with your long neck.”

  “And it has a narrow waist like you,” Ricardo said. He thrust the dress into my hands. “Try it on. Let us all marvel at your beauty.”

  I wasn’t sure about the marveling part, but I went into the fitting room to get changed. I never tired of the magic involved in Ricardo’s clothing. It didn’t matter what size dress I brought in with me. Once I slid it over my head, the dress changed shape to match mine. That was the great thing about using pixies and fairies as seamstresses. I’d still need fittings to make sure my shape didn’t change between now and the wedding (fingers crossed), but weight loss or gain was a much easier fix with magic.

  My breathing hitched when I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked like a real bride. All that was missing was a floral wreath on my head. I wasn’t a fan of veils and had already decided on the headdress. Begonia had tried to talk me into a twisted antler headdress like Lady Weatherby’s, but the last thing I needed was for the head of the coven to think that I was mocking her on my wedding day. She’d probably hex me with a giant zit on the end of my nose and blame Agnes.

  I stepped out of the dressing room and heard a collective gasp.

  “Emma, there’s no question. This one is made for you,” Lucy said.

  “Daniel is going to die,” Sophie said dreamily.

  “I certainly hope not,” I said. “I want us to live a long and happy life together.”

  I looked at the admiring faces and suddenly felt Gareth’s absence. As much as I loved the dress, I wanted his stamp of approval. He’d been getting better with manifesting in random places. I wondered whether he could manage the boutique.

  “What do you think of this one?” Begonia asked, twirling around in a cornflower-blue tea-length dress.

  “It matches your eyes perfectly,” Sophie said. She wore a tangerine dress with a wrap-style bodice.

  Lucy cast an appreciative glance at Sophie’s choice. “That color really pops,” she said.

  Millie stepped out of the dressing room in a yellow strapless dress. She fidgeted with the top of her dress. “I think strapless might not be the best option.”

  “Agreed,” Laurel said. “I’d rather be comfortable.”

  I laughed. “I’ve said it before, Laurel, but you truly are wise beyond your years.”

  Laurel’s red dress was simple in the front with a huge bow on the back. “They’re all so nice. How will you decide?”

  My gaze swept across the choices. “Majority rules, I guess.”

  “Don’t even consider mine,” Millie said. “I’m taking it off now.”

  “I will speak to Leanne about the strapless one,” Ricardo said. “See if she can build in magic to make it more comfortable.”

  My ears perked up at the name. “Leanne?”

  Ricardo nodded. “Yes, yes. My excellent pixie seamstress.”

  “Is she here now?” I asked.

  Lucy elbowed me gently. “Emma, you’re wearing a wedding dress. You can’t possibly go and question someone now.”

  “I’ll be right back.” I hiked up my wedding dress and headed to the private rooms at the back of the shop.

  A pixie with curly blonde hair fluttered in front of a sequined black dress, scrutinizing the cut. She reminded me of an old-fashioned doll, except for her visibly pregnant belly.

  "You must be Leanne," I said. "Ricardo speaks very highly of you."

  Leanne flashed a friendly smile. “Judging from your dress, you must be Emma. Ricardo
was so happy when he found out you were engaged. You should've seen the way he danced around the shop."

  I laughed. “I can only imagine. It looks like congratulations are in order to you, too.”

  Pink colored her cheeks. "Thank you. My husband and I have been trying for a while now, so this is a real blessing."

  "Your husband is…?"

  "Richard," she replied. "He works at the Spellbound Bank. He's the night manager there. It’s actually where we met.”

  "Well, congratulations to both of you," I said. "If all goes well for you, you may not be doing the final tweaks on my wedding gown."

  Her hands rested on her slightly swollen belly. "I promised Ricardo I would work as long as possible. I love my job." She glanced down at her future progeny. "But I will love my baby more. No question.“

  "Have you always wanted a family?" I asked.

  Leanne nodded enthusiastically. "From the time I was a little girl, I pictured myself as a mother. Every game I played became a version of motherhood. In the woods behind my house, I used to tuck pinecones into little stick cribs." She smiled at the memory. "My mother says I was always destined for motherhood."

  "I understand you used to be in a relationship with Seamus,” I said. “I’m sorry for your loss."

  Her expression clouded over. "Yes, I'm still trying to wrap my head around that one. I don’t know why anyone would want to hurt him. Hemlock, was it?”

  As usual, word spread rapidly in Spellbound. “That’s what the report says.”

  Her sigh was full of regret. “Seamus was a wonderful pixie."

  "But not wonderful enough to marry him," I remarked.

  She shot me a curious look. "I would have married him in a heartbeat. He was the one with cold feet. I couldn't get him to commit to anything—a job, his favorite color, marriage…He knew how desperately I wanted children. Finally, I decided enough was enough."

  "You broke things off?"

  She couldn't meet my gaze. "I probably could have handled it better in retrospect. Like I said, I met Richard at the bank. He showed an interest in me right away and I could tell he was willing to settle down." She shrugged. "In the end, I decided he was a better option. I wasn't getting any younger and Seamus wasn’t moving any faster."