Midlife in Glimmerspell

by Addison Moore

  I get right to scooping, rolling, and forming them into rods then crescents.

  I glance up and that blonde that asked to take roll for Griffin earlier, Jenny, catches my eye as she whispers something directly into his ear. Most likely a proposition. I’m not sure why I think everyone came here today well-equipped with lewd intent—sans Harper, Morgan, and me, and maybe Teddy Roosevelt, too.

  Griffin glares at the girl a moment, and my blood runs cold just watching. There’s something sinister in his eyes, and I can’t pinpoint what exactly.

  That’s strange.

  I didn’t get any weird vibes about him earlier while he was plying me with the promises of coffee and a proverbial tour of his bedroom.

  A dry laugh pumps from Jenny’s chest as she says something that looks awfully snippy to him and causes him to glare at her that much harder as she stalks off.

  Good for her.

  Wait a minute. She was the one out of line in that scenario. Not sure why I was so quick to side with the hussy. But I’m still raw from my own rejection, and the men of the world are getting the brunt of my fury at the moment.

  Morgan goes on in detail about Carol Taylor’s abduction while I finish getting the last of the crescents onto the cookie sheet.

  “Go ahead and pop those into the oven,” she instructs. “We’re about to get to the good part.”

  I pick up the cookie sheet and glance to my left where my eyes snag on Mr. Tall, Dark, and Brooding. His lids hood a notch, but he looks more annoyed by my presence than he does ready to give me a tour of his bedroom, and I frown over at him without meaning to.

  Those eyes, though. I can feel them watching me long after I look away. My entire body heats to unsafe levels as I take the cookie sheet past the fun zone, deeper into the kitchen before landing them into their heated, albeit temporary home.

  No sooner do I shut the oven door than my entire upper torso feels as if it’s catching fire, and my face flushes in an instant.

  Wow. Mr. Tall, Dark, and Brooding might be as mean as he is lean, but he sure has an effect on the ladies, me being at the front of the heated line.

  That bite of heat continues to escalate to unsafe levels, and I take a quick breath as I touch my hand to the stainless refrigerator just to cool myself for a moment.

  I’m half-moved to kick off my boots, strip off my sweater, and run right out into the snow just to stop the heated madness that’s currently taking over like a wildfire.

  The floor beneath me gives a soft wobble, and my vision grows bleary, and suddenly it feels as if I’m falling, spinning through space and time, right out of the kitchen and right out of my mind.

  “What the—” Before I can finish my sentence, an entirely new scene forms around me. The air grows increasingly chilled, and I find myself standing in a snowy field of some sort. I glance up at the dark sky and gasp. “What the hell?” My voice floats around me in an odd echo as if I were lost in a fishbowl. “Am I dead?” I call out, but there’s no response. I take a good look around at the somewhat blurry realm I seem to have landed in. “Oh my goodness. I have a feeling I was hit on the head a lot harder than I thought.”

  “You don’t ever tell me what I can and can’t do.” A voice comes from my left and I spot two blurry figures that slowly come into focus.

  It’s Griffin! And that redhead with the miniskirt is with him.

  I give a quick glance around, and by the looks of the environment, I think we’re right outside of the Haunted Book Barn.

  “I can tell you anything I want,” she snips. “I own you. So be careful. I know what you’ve done. I’m going to make sure the world finds out about it sooner than later.”

  “Oh my word,” I hiss. “What’s he done? And why the hell am I here? I should be back in that bakery. I’ve got cookies to eat, and Harper to raise, and one serious grudge toward mankind in the literal gender-based sense that I haven’t even begun to nurse properly. And why the heck am I talking to myself?”

  The ground gives a soft bounce, that disorienting feeling comes over me once more, and I’m falling again, this time with much more vigor.

  In a blink I’m right back in the kitchen just as Morgan runs in with her sweet dog, Acorn, on her heels.

  “What are you doing?” she hisses. “I told you to take the cookies out ten minutes ago. Geez, if I knew you had stage fright this bad, I would have had Harper help.” She quickly pulls the cookies out of the oven and they’re burned to a crisp.

  “I’m so sorry,” I say, following her right back to the makeshift studio where the audience gives a little titter at the horrific sight.

  “Bad news, good news.” Morgan tosses the cookies down with a bang. “The cookies, much like Carol Taylor, met an ill-timed fate. But good news for those in my studio because I just so happen to have whipped up six batches of these wonders last night. I hope you enjoyed this edition of Murder, Mayhem, and Baking. We’ll see you next week when we discuss the butchering of a couple from Crystal Lake.”

  “And cut!” someone shouts, and the room explodes with spontaneous applause.

  Teddy and I help Morgan distribute the cookies, and they’re snatched up furtively as if they were bars of gold.

  “Well done.” Griffin Barker is the first to take a cookie off my plate. There’s a small bead of sweat along his upper lip and his hair looks mussed at the temples. I guess those harsh studio lights weren’t just melting me, they were melting the audience, too.

  “Thank you,” I say as he indulges in a bite just as Mr. Tall, Dark, and Brooding steps up. I quickly move my plate in his direction and glower at him for inciting such a nuclear event in my body a few minutes ago. Technically, it’s his fault the cookies are burned to a crisp.

  He looks as if he’s about to reach for one when Griffin doubles over and slaps the entire plate right out of my hand. The plate breaks with a crash as it lands on the floor, and all heads turn this way as Griffin staggers toward the brooding one among us before pivoting on his feet and latching his full weight onto me instead.

  “Oh my goodness,” I pant as I begin to fall backward and Tall, Dark, and Brooding catches me as he does his best to pluck his buddy off of me.

  Griffin’s lips open as he looks up at the man, but not a single word escapes him. His face turns purple as the crowd begins to gasp. His body twitches, he foams at the mouth, and without warning he falls to the floor.

  Mr. Brooding quickly swoops down and checks the man’s pulse before looking up my way and shaking his head.

  It looks as if that coffee date is over before it began, and as it stands I’m not getting a tour of his bedroom either.

  Griffin Barker is dead.

  Chapter 3

  “He’s dead?” my voice sails from my lips without my permission as the room breaks out into screams and cries of terror.

  Morgan’s face goes white. “I’ll call for help.” She takes off and Acorn jumps in a circle while giving a few quick barks.

  “Come here, boy.” I pat my knee until he’s next to me and I give his curly cinnamon-colored fur a quick scratch.

  “You did this,” the girl with the chestnut hair calls out as she steps this way, the exact girl who’s been glowering at me ever since I stepped in—and now I know why. She has extremely keen klutz radar and knew this broken glass fiasco was on the horizon. Oh, wait. I think she’s accusing me of this deadly disaster instead. “You killed him, didn’t you?”

  Thought so.

  “No.” I shake my head her way. “I swear I didn’t.” But it’s too late. Half the crowd is turning a shoulder up at me as if I’ve got the plague—as if I am the plague.

  And who knows? At this point, I just might be.

  “Yes.” The woman doubles down on her lunacy. “I saw you slip him something, and the next thing I knew, he was twitching.”

  “That’s not true,” I bellow at the blooming crowd, all of whom are suddenly glaring at me. “I didn’t slip him anything. I mean, I slipped him a cookie but—”
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  “Ah-ha!” The woman jabs a finger my way and Tall, Dark, and Brooding holds her back as if staving off an attack.

  “All right, enough, Iona,” he growls. “I’ll take it from here.” He shoots her a look before flashing a badge my way. “Elliot Greenly, Winchester County Homicide Division.” He steps in close, just enough for the scent of his cologne to warm me before facing the crowd. “I need everyone to step back about ten feet. Put your phones away. I don’t want to see a single picture taken. Professor Barker suffered an unfortunate event, and I want to make sure we give him the respect that’s due to him.”

  The blonde I met earlier, Jenny, teacher’s pet—although I feel petty even thinking about that now all things considered—winnows her way forward and clings to Detective Greenly’s side.

  “I can call his wife,” she offers.

  Wife?

  I shoot the corpse a dirty look without meaning to.

  No wonder Charlene was quick to glom onto that whole let’s-have-coffee-then-hit-the-bedroom routine—it was taught as a part of the curriculum at that dicey university.

  The room quickly floods with sheriff’s deputies, and Teddy Roosevelt waddles her way over to me like a hot pink storm on the horizon with that furry black cat tucked in her arms.

  “Did you see that?” she howls as if I were hard of hearing. “He’s dead as a doornail, and it happened right here on your first day in town. What do you think it means?” She glances to the cat, and for a moment I’m not sure which one of us she’s talking to.

  Harper runs up, breathless, with an open-mouthed smile.

  Good Lord, if Teddy’s comment didn’t spur the townspeople to tar and feather me as they run me out of town, Harper and her newfound glee will.

  “Mom!” she booms as she shakes me by the shoulders. “There’s a freaking dead person in the room. I knew something was wrong with this jacked up town. Do you think a vampire did it?”

  “What?” I shake my head just as her phone chirps. “No, there are no vampires in Glimmerspell.”

  An unusual hush falls over the room and all eyes are on me for less than a nanosecond before everything stirs right back up again.

  “I gotta go.” Harper dances backward while immersed in her phone. “I’ve already told everyone back in Mulberry and they’re like totally jealous.” She zips off before I can stop her.

  Teddy gives a wistful tick of the head. “The kid’s gonna be a hit.”

  Morgan pops up before I can contest the idea of Harper’s newfound popularity, although I have an inkling Teddy might be onto something.

  “Billie”—Morgan frowns out at the swarm of bodies surrounding us—“help me get this crowd under control.”

  “You mean kick them out?”

  “Only the ones not willing to make a purchase. Dead man or not, I’ve got a living to make.”

  She takes off in an effort to herd the crowd, and a woman standing in the kitchen catches my eye.

  That long dark hair, pale skin, and eyes that glow like twin amethysts.

  “Oh wow, Teddy, look.” I motion toward the café. “That woman standing behind the island looks exactly like Morgan. I saw her earlier, and I thought I was losing my mind.”

  “What woman?” Teddy squints hard just as the woman in question stalks off to the back of the kitchen and disappears out of sight.

  “Never mind,” I say. “I’m starting to get the feeling I hit my head harder than I think. You wouldn’t happen to know the name of a good shrink, would you?”

  She shoves the furry little feline cutie my way. “Meet Grizzy. She’s not only a good listener, she’s free.”

  “That’s about all I can afford.” I give my new shrink a scratch between the ears. “Nice to meet you, Griz.”

  Teddy pulls her lips to the side as she inspects my forehead. “I didn’t want to say anything, but you got a real goose egg brewing.”

  “That would explain why I passed out.” I glance in the direction of the café once again. “I had this weird dream while I was out, too. I was in the snow and there were people arguing.” I don’t dare tell her that one of those people was the very man that lies dead on the floor not ten feet away. “The weird thing is, I could have sworn on my life I actually left the kitchen and appeared right there in the woods with those people.”

  Teddy sucks in a quick breath. “You know what that means, don’t you? You’re a time bandit!”

  “A time what?”

  “A time twister, a time glider, a time tamer”—she snaps her fingers three times fast—“time traveler.”

  I avert my eyes at the thought. “Believe me, I bet what’s happening in my brain is a lot less exciting. Think subdermal hematoma—the life-threatening variety. That’s probably why I’m hallucinating the fact I see Morgan every which way, too. I’d probably best get my affairs in order.” My chest heaves. “Charlene, the ditz, will become a second mother to Harper and undo all the good I’ve done over the years. They’ll probably wear matching ripped jeans and buy way too many three-wick candles down at the Bath and Body Scents—at full price no less. And believe me, both of those scenarios are completely unreasonable. Harold will be living his best life with his shiny new trophy wife, and all I’ll have to keep me company is a cold, dark casket.”

  “Sorry, kid,” Teddy says as both she and Grizzy shake their heads. “But from what little I’ve heard of Harold, you’re not getting a cushy casket. You’re getting the coffee can.”

  “Ugh.” My entire body rattles with frustration. “You’re so right.”

  Morgan cups her hands around her mouth and lets out an obnoxious yet highly effective whistle, and the thunder of voices around us quiets down once again.

  “If you have any purchases to make, please form a single line!” She motions toward the café and about a dozen bodies sail that way.

  Grizzy yowls as if she were shouting out instructions, too, and I offer a forlorn smile her way.

  Why couldn’t I be a cat? Sleeping, eating, telling people what to do, and I’d get nine lives to boot. Not a bad deal, especially when you consider she works at a bookstore.

  Teddy grunts, “I’d better help Iona at the register. She gets cranky any day of the week that ends in Y. Don’t worry, Slick Willie Billie, no one expects much out of you.”

  “Gee, thanks,” I say just as Tall, Dark, and Brooding swoops over once again.

  “Word of warning, Elliot”—Teddy points a gnarled finger his way—“Billie the Kid here has garnered the ability to break time zones like nobody’s business. And sadly, she’s about to be your second corpse of the day. The girl blacked out in the kitchen right before she burned your cookies.” She turns my way. “If you drop dead while I’m gone, just know Grizzy and I are gonna miss you. It’s not every day a sassy, trashy, little tramp like yourself saunters into town, travels through time and space just to kill a man with a hard, cold look in her eyes. I aspire to be you.” She takes off and my mouth is left hanging open in her wake.

  A choking sound emits from me as I look in her direction. “I don’t know what to say to that.”

  Elliot Greenly steps in front of my line of vision—Detective Elliot Greenly—and my insides purr like a hypersexual kitten.

  How do you like that? Turns out, I’m part cat after all.

  I suck in a quick breath at the newfound low I’ve sunk to. For Pete’s sake, there’s a corpse in the room. And Teddy is most likely right. I’m gunning for second place in the casket races.

  I’ve never won at anything, and this wouldn’t be the best time for my luck to change in that department.

  Elliot leans in and stares deep into my eyes, looking from one to another. “No signs of a concussion, but we should probably get you checked out.”

  “No, I’m fine, really.” And highly uninsured.

  His brows hike a notch. “Aside from the fact you blacked out and ‘garnered the ability to break time zones like nobody’s business’?” His lips flicker with devious intent as he quotes Te
ddy.

  “Very funny,” I say. “And a little bit true.” I wince as Jenny, teacher’s pet extraordinaire, crops up and suddenly I’m drowning in her sugary perfume as she swoons up at the ornery detective among us.

  “Professor Greenly”—her lips pout his way, her chest does an odd little wiggle as if she were trying to seduce him, and I have no doubt she is—“I guess he’s dead.” She bites down on a smile as if she weren’t sorry at all. “Does this mean you’ll be taking over our perfect crime class?”

  “Professor?” I marvel with a note of sarcasm, and I’m not sure why. And what’s with that smile of hers? A man just lost his life—her professor no less, and yet there’s nary a tear in her horny eyes.

  Elliot shoots me a quick look before nodding her way. “I’m still on as a guest speaker for the next two weeks, but I’ll have to check with the university to see what happens next. Don’t worry. The school won’t drop the class. If anything, you’ll be assigned a new professor.”

  “Good.” Her teeth graze over her lip as a lusty gleam takes over her entire countenance. “I was just getting used to seeing your handsome face every day. I wouldn’t want to miss it.” She gives a playful shrug. “Just know I’ll be available to help you with whatever your needs might be.” Her fingers walk up his tie, and it’s about all I can take.

  “Oh, for goodness’ sake.” I groan at the sight, but Man-hungry Jenny pays me no mind—not shockingly, neither does Detective Greenly. I’m guessing he’s getting ready to investigate her motives underneath the sheets.

  “You’ve got my number.” She nods as she steps away. “Don’t be afraid to use it.” She takes off, and I scoff in her wake.

  “You’re staring at the wrong body in the room, Detective,” I say and the words come out a little snippier than intended. “The corpse is that way.” I point in the opposite direction, but he’s not following my directive.