Her mouth opens wide as her head lunges down, and I tuck and roll to the left as she misses by a mile. The long handle of the flashlight catches my eye, and I clasp onto it and come back with herculean strength of my own and wallop her over the temple with it, leaving a nasty mark in its wake.
A hard groan comes from her and her hand rises to meet the pain. I pull back my arm and wallop her again, this time initiating a satisfying thud as the metal meets her skull.
Acorn gives an approving bark as he dances around us in the snow.
I land Vera onto her back and dig my knee between her shoulder blades, raising the flashlight once again in a cheap attempt to finish her off. I’m pretty sure a vampire isn’t going to meet its demise by way of a flashlight, but that won’t stop me from trying to make it happen.
“Billie,” a deep voice thunders and I look up to see Elliot running this way with his gun drawn. “Freeze!” he shouts and I raise my hands, inadvertently dropping the flashlight right over Vera’s head with a thud.
She grunts hard as she struggles to look my way. “Oh, for Pete’s sake,” she groans while sinking her face into the snow, and Acorn barks over her as if he were reprimanding her.
“She did it!” I shout as Elliot speeds over. “She killed Griffin,” I pant. “She confessed. She’s a vampire, Elliot. She’s the one that ran the Chatham House, not Griffin. He caught on, and he was selling blood to the vampires himself.”
Elliot pulls me off her, and soon he’s on her back, yanking a pair of silver bracelets from his pocket as he cuffs her.
His eyes meet with mine. “Good work. Don’t ever do that again,” he growls before his affect softens just a notch. “You could have gotten yourself killed.” He calls it in, and soon the grounds are crawling with sheriff’s deputies.
Sheriff Cash Archer comes up to me amidst the melee and shakes his head as he inspects me.
“Elliot says you put it all together yourself. Billie, what were you thinking confronting that woman out here on your own? You don’t know the things she was capable of.”
“I do,” I tell him. “But you’re right. I shouldn’t have confronted her on my own. Thankfully, I won’t ever have to do that again because I’ve cleared my good name.”
“Get inside, Billie.” Cash shakes his head as he examines me. “Your teeth are chattering, and I’d hate for you to catch your death. Morgan has a show to shoot. She’s looking everywhere for you.” He takes a moment to glare at someone over my shoulder before stalking off for the bookstore once again.
Before I can turn around, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Brooding appears in front of me.
His lips curve as he washes those clear green eyes over mine.
“That was quite the introduction to Glimmerspell,” he says. “I do hope you’ll stay.”
“Do you?” I ask, amused.
“Yes.” His chest depresses as he lets out a breath. “It’s time for the show to begin. And after that, there’s someone here I’d love to introduce you to.”
“Let me guess. You have a sibling who’s a shrink?”
“No, but I have a mother who runs a dairy farm,” he counters.
A breath hitches in my throat. “Marceline? The one who gifted Morgan that hourglass that bonked me straight into yesterday?”
He gives a slight bow. “That’s the one.”
“I can’t wait to meet your mother.”
His eyes latch over mine and it jolts me just the way it did that first day. His features harden once again and he’s right back to scowling.
“And then I’d like to have a word with you myself.”
Elliot would like to have a word with me.
Why does it feel as if I’m about to be sent to the principal’s office?
Elliot’s lips curve just a notch as if maybe I am.
Chapter 17
Murder, Mayhem, and Baking goes off without a hitch.
Morgan regales us with the story of the Nelson family from Crystal Lake. The kids were grown. Mrs. Nancy Nelson was once the principal of a private school, K through twelve. Mr. Duff Nelson worked as a foreman at an oilrig. Both were brutally slaughtered in their home one dark October night.
Nancy was nearly decapitated, her head found in the toilet. Mr. Nelson was splattered over the walls of three different rooms. Rumors ran rampant, from a wild bear breaking in through the shattered living room window to a psychotic hopped up on drugs, wielding a knife. Nobody knew for certain.
The case was cold for ten years. Unsolved. Until a year ago when detectives discovered that they had overlooked something simple right from the beginning. The window was broken from the inside with the glass shards shooting out onto the patio.
A few strands of short dark hair were found at the scene, and the Nelsons were both gray. Genetic testing pointed to their son as the owner of those stray tresses right from the beginning. But that wasn’t odd at first because he lived there. He claimed he was at his girlfriend’s the night of the attack and she attested to the fact. It turned out, the son was an addict. The Nelsons cut off his funds in an effort to help him, thus cutting off his ability to get more of what his body craved.
He went rogue—got ahold of some mind-altering cheap stuff, and a temporary psychosis was induced. The day after the murder he slept it off at his girlfriend’s house, which aided in his alibi. In the beginning, he played the role of the concerned son and continued to do so right up until he was caught.
The murders were brutal. It makes it clear that monsters can be fully human, too, and that a chemically-induced psychosis could sometimes bring those monsters out.
“The bumbleberry pie is delicious!” Teddy holds it up to Sunny and me while Acorn barks and jumps, struggling to get a bite for himself, so I accidentally on purpose drop a piece of crust for him.
Sunny moans, “We need to get some bumbleberry trees stat, Teddy.”
“You won’t find any.” Morgan shakes her head. “It’s a trio of raspberries, blueberries, and cherries. And even though the fruit was frozen, it’s still pretty good.” She looks out at the crowd as they each enjoy a slice of the bumbleberry pie. Morgan whipped up enough this morning to feed the entire state of Maine. “We made it in Elliot’s honor since he was bumbling his way through the case.” She tweaks her brows his way. “But as it turns out, Elliot wasn’t needed.” She raises the slice of pie in her hand. “To my Aunt Billie! May everyone in Glimmerspell take note—nobody messes with Billie Buttonwood.”
“Hear, hear,” Sunny and Teddy shout in unison.
The film crew is still clearing out. The students from Dexter are still here in number and growing more boisterous by the minute.
From the corner of my eye I see Harold and Charlene pinning Harper between a couple of the book tables, and I suddenly lose my appetite because I have no choice but to intervene.
I take a step in that direction and Sunny appears in front of me.
“So we never got a chance to talk about the things Elliot went over with you.” She looks intently into my eyes as if she were trying to pry into my mind. “What do you think?”
I glance back at Harper and she seems to be holding her own for the moment.
“I think the things Elliott told me were terrifying.” I look to Morgan, Teddy, and Sunny. “He let me know that the three of you are very well aware of the things he was saying.” I nod. “And today, outside with Vera, I discovered they were true. I believe in them. Do you?”
Teddy leans in. “Oh hon, I’ve seen it all and believe it all—and I’m neither transmundane, vampire, were, or fae. But I’m no bore.” She winks my way. “I’ve been known to bite, howl at the moon, and flirt with the best of them. Don’t worry, kid. I’ll help you navigate the waters.”
“Thanks, Teddy. I appreciate that.”
Sunny nods. “And now that you know about us, I’ll make sure to give you a proper introduction to Glimmerspell.” For the briefest of moments, her skin shimmers in the light and takes on a blue cast that I can’t deny, and I
gasp at the sight.
“Sunny! Are you—a fae?”
“Darn right, I am. And don’t you worry about Elliot Greenly giving you the cold shoulder. I’ll make sure you’re plenty entertained in Glimmerspell. The second half of your life is going to be far more interesting than the first. It’s going to be one big party from here on out.”
“Spoken like a true fairy.” Morgan makes a face as she pulls me to the side. “Billie, are you okay? You’ve had one heck of a time since you’ve been in town. First with the corpse giving you a hug on day one, that knock to the head that sent you flopping through time like a fish out of water, and your ghostly niece. Elliot Greenly’s lips—not to mention the words that came out of them. How are you holding up?”
“I’m okay,” I say slowly, but I mean it.
Mabel floats over, glowing from the inside out like a jack-o’-lantern.
“Marceline is speaking with Iona,” she says, glancing back toward the registers. “I think you’re next on her hit list.”
“Hit list?” I look to my nieces. “Why do I get the feeling there’s something else you’re not telling me?”
A pan crashes to the floor and we look over to see Acorn quickly gobbling down a pie that just splattered over a three-foot radius.
“We’ll talk,” Morgan says as she zips that way.
Mabel sheds a wry smile. “Don’t worry, Billie. I have a feeling there’s a very good reason the universe sent you in our direction. We all have a purpose in this life.” She shrugs. “And we’ve got a purpose in the afterlife, too.” She begins to dissipate before my eyes. “There’s a cute ghost pushing through town and I told him I’d meet him at Wolfgang’s. I’ve got a date. And believe me, I’m well aware it gives ghosting a whole other meaning.”
Just like that, she’s gone, and I don’t waste any time making a beeline for poor Harper.
I step past Harold and Charlene and stand staunch by my daughter’s side.
“What’s going on?” I ask as I look to the two of them.
Harper sighs. “I guess we’re being civil.” She rolls her eyes. “But it’s a hard no to the babysitting gig come next September. I’ll be trying out for cheer, not teen mom.” Her body rocks back and forth as she looks to Harold, the way she’s prone to do when fighting back her emotions. “And yes, I’ll talk to you at least once a week on the phone.”
“Good,” he says as he holds out his arms. “How about a hug for your old man?”
Harper offers him a firm embrace and her back shudders as she sheds a few silent tears. She misses him. I know she does. He’s her dad. She probably should.
She wipes down her face. “I guess it was nice seeing you.” She shrugs to Charlene. “Not so much you, but I’m just being honest. Bye.” She waves to them both before taking off toward the back where her friends are currently congregating.
Harold hitches his head toward the kitchen. “It was kind of nice seeing you do your thing. I’m proud of you, Billie.”
“It was great,” Charlene gushes while petting her curls. “Oh, I want to do it, too. Do you think I could maybe help out with the dessert in an upcoming episode? I just know I’m destined for fame. I can feel it in my bones.”
“Probably not.” To both helping out and her delusions of fame. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t do your own show.” I take a moment to glare at Harold. “And don’t let anyone tell you that you don’t have the skills to make it in this world. You might just surprise yourself yet.”
Harold averts his eyes as if he had never said those words to me. “About the house. I’m taking out a loan to buy you out for half the sales price we were asking. I’ll pick up any fees. I don’t want to see the old place go. We had a lot of memories there. Harper’s growth chart is still on the door to her room. That place is like family to me.”
I shrug over at him. “Well, at least you’re loyal to something. Let me know when you’re ready to deposit the funds into my account.”
“Will do.” Harold looks me in the eyes for a moment too long and I can see a smidge of sadness in them, and more than a dash of regret. “Goodbye, Billie.”
“Bye!” Charlene gives a chipper wave before attempting to embrace me, and I hold up a hand.
“I’m good.”
She touches her hand to her mouth and giggles before stopping abruptly. “Oh, I almost forgot. One of my favorite authors had a new release this week and that’s one steamy read I’m not leaving without. I’ll just be a second,” she says as she makes a mad dash for the romance section.
“So Harold”—I stretch a tight smile his way—“I spoke to Dr. Goldman a week ago.”
“He told you?” His eyes bug out as he channels his newfound rage at me. He glances over my shoulder before pulling me in a notch. “Listen, Billie. This is humiliating. I’m sure you’re getting a good laugh over it, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say anything to Charlene.” His shoulders sag a moment. “If she knew my motility was so slow, she might figure out I’m probably not the father and take off. Now that you’re gone, she’s all I got.”
“Your motility? As in your little swimmers?” I glance down at his crotch without meaning to. “Hey? You’re probably the reason we never had any more kids. I mean, we tried for years and I thought it was all my fault.” I inch back, stunned at this revelation. All those years I was angry at my body for not pulling its weight—while ironically putting on weight—and here it was most likely Harold all along. Figures. I’ve always been quick to blame myself, even when the misgiving was Harold’s. “So you’re essentially sterile.”
“Essentially.” He sighs. “But I’m expecting a baby in a few months and I won’t lie, I was just getting used to the idea. I’ll let you know how the paternity test turns out when it’s time.”
“I’ll be holding my breath.”
Charlene reappears and they take off toward the registers momentarily before sailing out the door. And just like that, my worst nightmare is over.
“Billie?” Elliot’s voice strums my way from behind and I turn to see him with a petite woman, caramel-colored hair that coils just past her shoulders, her skin is glowing and ruddy, her eyes shine the color of a pale sky. There’s a sharpness to her beauty that I find intimidating, high cheekbones and ample lips set in an affable smile. She’s dressed in a flowing purple cardigan and a navy jumpsuit underneath. There’s something breathtaking about her, ethereal even, as if we were in the presence of a celestial being. It’s safe to say Elliot’s mother is a stunning woman. “This is my mother, Marceline Greenly. Mom, meet Billie.”
“Charmed.” She holds out her hand, her icy eyes never leaving mine.
“So very nice to meet you,” I say. “We enjoy all of your products from the dairy, right here at the café.” I take up her hand and a jolt strums through me—not the hormonal jolt that Elliot gives off, but a horrible shaking, a lethal charge that threatens to stop my beating heart. The room goes white, my ears clot up, and a scene emerges in my mind’s eye—a barren room, concrete floors with a couple of steer butchered and bleeding, strung up by their hind legs as the floor pools crimson. Another scene appears, a large stone set in a clearing in the woods, a girl writhing over the granite expanse with her arms and legs splayed out. Another scene emerges, a dark room—I’m sensing it’s underground—torches are lit up within it as a group of men and women clad in black stand at a round table. A golden chalice is passed between them. One of the men looks my way, and I recognize those pressing blue eyes. It’s Cash. One more scene bounces through my mind. It’s me, running through the woods. I’m screaming at the top of my lungs. Something terrifying is about to happen, and it’s happening to me.
She lets go and the room blinks back to life with bodies swirling all around me. The volume of the people in the room and the eighties music blaring from the speakers are both a touch too loud.
“What was that?” I pant as I look her way.
An amused laugh bounces through her chest. “I hear you had an accide
nt with that old hourglass I gifted to the bookstore. My apologies.” Her lips expand as if she wasn’t the least bit sorry. “I promise, I will find a way to make it up to you.”
Buried deep in my mind I could have sworn I heard her say a different set of words. You will find a way to make it up to me.
I swallow hard as I examine this woman before me and nod.
“I look forward to getting to know you better,” I hear myself say the words, but I’m not sure I believe them, nor does she.
Elliot’s mother knows things—is capable of things. And I have a feeling we’ll be spending lots of time together. And not one part of me is convinced I’m going to like it.
“Please excuse me, Billie. I must say hello to Morgan.” She searches my features one last time. “Yes. You will do, indeed.” She gives a quick blink. “I can’t wait to show you around the dairy farm.” She glides off as if her feet weren’t even touching the ground.
Elliot rocks back on his heels as he presses out a short-lived smile. “You did great today, Billie. The pie looked delicious.”
“It was,” I snip without meaning to. A part of me wants to dive into the deep end of what just happened when I shook his mother’s hand, and another part of me wants to take a much-needed breather for a moment. Besides, Elliot isn’t exactly someone I want to confide in, not anymore at least. I still feel the stinging rejection of that second kiss that never was.
Midlife in Glimmerspell Page 20
