Bedtime Fury

by Annabel Chase

  Clara seemed to grasp the situation. As an empath with the Sight, she was familiar with my family’s magical chicanery and how I felt about it.

  “Did you see Sean?” I asked.

  “No, where?” Sassy turned around to survey the diner.

  “He just left,” I said. “He must’ve ordered something to go.”

  “Oh, wow,” Sassy said. “He must’ve had a field day when he saw your head.”

  “I think he might be maturing,” I said. “He actually asked if I was okay.”

  Sassy appeared unconvinced. “Tanner and I saw him at the market on Sunday and he was making fart noises with his armpit.”

  “Well, he’s on duty now,” I said, knowing full well that didn’t usually make a difference.

  “I’m glad you still came to meet us,” Clara said. “It’s important to keep your chin up.”

  “She can’t,” Sassy said, completely serious. “There’s too much weight pulling it down right now.”

  The waitress stopped by to take our order. To her credit, she didn’t even blink at the sight of me.

  “Are you sure you can eat with those lips?” Sassy asked.

  “I’ll manage.” I looked at Clara. “Working on any good stories?” Clara is a fledgling reporter for The Buttermilk Bugle.

  “I’m not sure how good it is, but I interviewed Ruben Tasker the other day,” Clara said.

  “That's funny,” I said. “I met his neighbor yesterday, Stuart Riggin. I didn't even realize the Tasker farm was still there until he mentioned it.”

  “That's the story, in a nutshell,” Clara said. “Ruben feels that he’s being harassed by certain companies that want to buy his land. He’s told them unequivocally no, but they aren't giving up.”

  “It's understandable,” Sassy said. “That farm has been in the Tasker family since the first Puritans settled here.”

  “What kind of companies are expressing an interest?” I asked.

  “Basically, the kind that want to destroy the land,” Clara said. “Mary and Ruben have no interest in selling. They’re old and I think Ruben’s worried the stress is getting to the both of them.”

  “Why does he want you to write an article about it?” I asked.

  “That’s easy,” Sassy said. “He’s hoping if we give the companies bad press, that they’ll back off to avoid bad publicity.”

  “Smart,” I said.

  “That land is worth a fortune,” Clara said. “I’m surprised it’s taken this long for companies to take notice.”

  “I remember my parents had offers during their divorce,” I said. Instead of selling, however, the former Wentworth farm had been divided in half as part of the settlement. My father built a new house on ‘his’ parcel and my mother retained the original farmhouse. The barn straddled the boundary of both properties and was currently being renovated as a small house for me.

  “There’s one real estate developer that’s been driving over there once a week,” Clara said. “He started out pleasant enough, but Mary’s been getting uncomfortable with his visits.”

  The waitress approached our table with a tray of food and distributed the plates and drinks.

  “Have they spoken to Chief Fox about a restraining order?” I asked.

  “In Maryland, it’s considered a peace order because it’s not a domestic relationship,” Clara said. “She’d have to prove that he committed an act that puts her in fear for her safety.”

  “They shouldn’t have to jump through hoops like that just to stop these people from pestering them,” Sassy said. “It isn’t fair. If someone bothered my grandmother like that, they’d quickly regret it.”

  I bit back a smile. For someone without supernatural abilities, Sassy was…well, sassy.

  “Where did you meet their neighbor?” Clara asked.

  “Mr. Riggin was at Coffee with a Cop yesterday. He was talking to Chief Fox about a different issue.”

  Clara and Sassy exchanged glances. “The one in Magic Beans?” Clara asked.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Corinne called and asked for a little press on it,” Clara said. “Gasper said he’d cover it.”

  “Really?” I asked. “That’s not beneath the star reporter?”

  Clara shrugged. “He thinks Corinne is pretty.”

  “And I suppose you’re covering the Tasker farm story because Ruben Tasker is a looker,” I joked.

  “He’s about eighty, but fairly easy on the eyes,” Clara said.

  “Corinne is pretty,” Sassy began, “but I still think Chief Fox prefers you. I’m not even sure why he’s wasting his time with her when it’s clear the two of you have real chemistry.”

  I stared down at my plate. I couldn’t really explain to Sassy why I wasn’t dating the chief. She was as clueless as he was when it came to the world of supernaturals.

  “It’s your family, isn’t it?” Sassy asked. “You don’t want to subject him to their scrutiny.”

  “She doesn’t want to risk his reputation,” Clara jumped in. “Her family isn’t the most beloved in town and the chief is still new.”

  “You’re both right,” I said. “My family would eviscerate him.” Literally. “And it’s important that people like and trust him like they did Chief O’Neill. He needs to show he exercises good judgment.” And dating a Fury would not show good judgment.

  “To be fair, that hasn’t hurt your sister-in-law,” Sassy said. “She married Anton, but she still has a great reputation.”

  “True,” I said. “But she heals people. Chief Fox arrests people.”

  “He keeps the town safe,” Sassy said. “It’s not so different.”

  I wish I could explain that Verity’s druid powers were designed for healing and mine were designed for…destruction. Not the same at all.

  “Well, Eden has made up her mind,” Clara said. “I think we should respect that.”

  Sassy popped a French fry into her mouth. “Let me know if you decide you want to date. I might be able to arrange something for you.”

  I threw my head back and laughed. “What? A double date with you and Tanner?”

  “Well, not with your head in that condition, of course,” Sassy said. She scrunched her nose. “Or that outfit.”

  “Now you sound like my mother,” I told her.

  Sassy examined me. “It’s like you aggressively don’t want to attract a man’s attention.”

  “Maybe I don’t.”

  “You’re missing out,” Sassy said. “I tell Clara the same thing every week.”

  Clara stole a fry from Sassy’s plate. “More like every day.”

  “Quinn’s long gone,” Sassy said, referring to Agent Redmond. Clara and the handsome FBM trainer had fallen for each other during his brief stay in Chipping Cheddar, but, unfortunately, the Legolas lookalike had to hit the road.

  “Thanks for the reminder,” Clara said. She scowled at Sassy over the top of her glass as she drank her iced tea.

  “You two are the hottest women in Chipping Cheddar…after me, of course.” Sassy paused. “Well, maybe after Amity Dorsey, too, but she’s tainted.”

  “Tainted how?” I asked.

  “She had the affair with that minister,” Sassy said. “Oh, it was a huge scandal.”

  “I didn’t hear about that,” I said.

  “They were caught in his Chevrolet right by the big cemetery over near Davenport Park,” Sassy said. “He claimed to be helping her get closer to God.” She paused. “Amity seemed to be under the misguided belief that calling His name over and over was some kind of direct line to the Man Upstairs. I mean, really. God’s not some kind of demon that you summon. That’s blasphemy.”

  I shifted uncomfortably at the mention of demons.

  “Amity dated your brother,” Clara said. “Don’t you remember?”

  “Anton dated a lot of girls before he settled on Verity,” I said. “I didn’t keep a list.” I snatched a fry from Sassy’s plate and dipped it in Clara’s ketchup. “And I don�
��t think you’re one to talk about affairs.”

  Sassy blew a raspberry. “Oh, please. That was high school. Everybody acts stupid in high school. It’s all those raging hormones.”

  “Some raged more than others,” I said.

  “Besides, I’m still with Tanner, remember?” Sassy said. “And it’s not like you want him back.” She hesitated. “Do you?”

  I barked a short laugh. “Not even if he were the last weasel on earth.”

  Sassy’s eyes locked on me. “Why not even if Tanner were the last man on earth?”

  “I said weasel.”

  “What’s wrong with him?” Sassy asked. “He still looks as good as he did in school. Even better, if you ask me. More manly.”

  I sucked down my iced tea. “If you say so.”

  Sassy appeared indignant. “Eden Fury, what does that mean?”

  I picked at the remainder of my lunch. “It means I don’t care. His personality far outweighs his attractiveness.”

  Sassy bristled. “You’re just saying that because of how he treated you.”

  “It’s definitely part of it,” I admitted. “I think he’s a pathetic jerk who needs a personality transplant. More importantly, I think you, Sassafras Persimmons, can do much better.”

  Sassy chewed on another fry, seeming to consider my statement. “I love Tanner and I know he loves me.”

  “Okay,” I said. I wasn’t about to argue. Sassy was a big girl and had to make up her own mind.

  Clara surprised me by saying, “Sometimes love isn’t enough.”

  “Of course it is,” Sassy said.

  “Love doesn’t mean relationship compatibility,” Clara said. “If I treated you the way Tanner does, would we still be friends?” She leaned back against the booth. “I think not.”

  Sassy glanced from Clara to me. “When did this turn into an intervention? I was only trying to help the two of you. No need to turn any tables.”

  Clara’s phone vibrated on the table. “What do you know?” She clicked and brought the phone to her ear. “Hi, Mr. Tasker. Is everything okay?”

  Sassy finished the last French fry. “I bet if he was the last man on earth, you’d cave.”

  “Mr. Tasker?”

  She glowered. “You know who I mean.”

  “You really don’t want to let this drop, do you?”

  Clara set down the phone. “Mr. Tasker asked me to come back out to the farm.”

  “Did something happen with the companies that were harassing him?” I asked.

  “That's not the reason he asked me to come,” Clara said. “He claims to have discovered a new species of plant and thinks I might want to write an article about it.”

  “Maybe he’ll luck out and discover it’s a protected species,” I said. “That might help Mr. Tasker shake off the vultures.”

  “Why don’t you come with me?” Clara asked.

  “Not me,” Sassy said. “I don’t even like looking at plants at Home Depot.”

  Sassy didn’t seem to realize that Clara had directed the question to me.

  “Should I invite Neville?” I asked. “He’s much better at identifying plant life than I would be.”

  Sassy snorted. “You two work on computers all day. Why would he know anything about rare plant species?”

  “Because he’s Neville,” I said. I shot the wizard a quick text.

  “Nerdy by nature,” Sassy murmured. “And nerdy about nature.”

  Clara and I left money on the table. “We’ll catch up later,” Clara said. She nudged me out of the booth. “You grab Neville and I’ll meet you at the farm.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  Something supernatural was afoot and I couldn’t wait to find out what it was.

  Chapter Six

  I drove Neville and I out to the Tasker farm and trudged across a field where Clara awaited us.

  “Took you long enough,” she said.

  I jabbed a thumb in Neville's direction. “Somebody needed the bathroom before we left the office. Too many cups of water today.”

  “Eight ounces a day,” Neville said defensively. “That's the standard. I didn’t make the rules.”

  “Where’s Mr. Tasker?” I asked.

  “Back at the house,” Clara said. “I said we’d come and speak to him after you look at it. The plant is over there. I didn't want to stand too close to it by myself.”

  “Why?” I asked. I peered over her shoulder in the direction of the plant. “Is it some kind of supernatural Venus flytrap?”

  “You tell me,” Clara said.

  Neville clapped his hands together, practically giddy. “Ooh, I do love botany.”

  I looked at him askance. “Why does that not surprise me?”

  “I had my own greenhouse as a child,” Neville said. “I was particularly interested in hybrids.”

  “That explains your fascination with me,” I said.

  “Is that like mixing different types of roses and creating a new species?” Clara asked.

  “Yes, except I like to mix supernatural species with those native to this world,” he replied.

  “Neville, you shock me,” I said. “That’s illegal.”

  “Why do you think I got recruited for the FBM in the first place?” he asked.

  “I assumed it was the magical jewelry you're so good at making,” I said. My fingers touched the charmed locket of invisibility around my neck.

  “Not at all,” Neville said. “My uncle knew about my interests and came to inspect the greenhouse. He had a friend with the FBM, Agent Hertzog. She confiscated the contents of the greenhouse and I didn’t speak to Uncle Fred for weeks—that is, until Agent Hertzog contacted me.”

  “To rub salt in the wound?” I asked.

  “No, she was so impressed by my experiments that she offered me a spot upon graduation,” Neville said.

  “How old were you?” Clara asked.

  “I was only thirteen at the time,” Neville said.

  I whistled. “Wow. I can’t imagine what it would have been like to know that I had my dream job waiting for me when I was only thirteen.”

  “You knew you wanted to work as a federal agent for years,” Clara told me. “In fact, I don't remember you expressing an interest in much else.”

  “That's true,” I said. “I was pretty single-minded about it.” I broke into a smile. “And yet here I am.”

  Clara clapped me on the shoulder. “You're still a federal agent, just not in the division you expected.”

  If I hadn’t inadvertently siphoned a vampire’s power and then tried to suck the life out of my old FBI partner, Fergus, I’d still be an FBI agent in San Francisco now. Unfortunately, my supernatural skills didn’t involve time travel.

  We approached the suspicious plant with caution. If Clara was right and its origin was supernatural, there was no telling what it might be capable of. We had to be careful.

  “It's a very bright green, isn't it?” I said.

  “And quite complex,” Neville added.

  “The leaves are segmented,” I said. They varied in size and shape as well.

  “Technically, they’re called fronds.” Neville took a step closer to the plant. “Some of the spores are glowing.”

  It was hard to see the tiny spores with my compromised vision. “What does that mean?”

  “I’m not entirely sure,” Neville said. “It could be the climate here.”

  “If only some of the spores are glowing, does that mean it’s dying?” Clara asked.

  “I’d need to identify the species before I could postulate a theory,” Neville replied.

  “If it’s supernatural, how did it get here in the first place?” I asked. And why was there only one?

  “Mr. Tasker said it has to be recent,” Clara said. “He walks the perimeter of the farm throughout the week and he came past this spot a week ago. He said it wasn’t here then.”

  “He walks the perimeter every week?” I asked. “That’s a lot of walking for an old
guy.”

  Clara smiled. “He said it keeps him healthy and fit. He’s also paranoid about adverse possession.”

  My brow lifted. “The legal concept?”

  She nodded. “He thinks if he doesn't walk around the whole farm on a regular basis that someone will be able to claim part of his land.”

  “And what about Mrs. Tasker?” I asked. “Did she participate?” According to Aunt Thora, the couple that walks together, stays together. She used to point out that my mother always walked ahead of my father and that it was a sure sign they’d eventually split up.

  “Apparently, she usually does,” Clara said. “Not today, though. He said she didn't seem like herself again, so he left her to do the laundry while he walked. When he found this plant, he called me.”

  “So I guess he knows enough about plants to know this one doesn't belong,” I said, although the glowing spores might have been a hint.

  “He even Googled it using reverse image look up,” Clara said. “When he didn't find a match, he assumed he’d discovered a new species.”

  Neville kneeled beside the plant and took a few photos with his phone. “I don’t want to disturb it until I know more. Photos will have to do.”

  “Did Mr. Tasker mention anything unusual at the farm?” I asked. “No issues with animals getting sick, anything like that?”

  “No,” Clara replied. “His big concern has been the corporate vultures circling. I’m sure if there’d been an issue with any of the animals, he would have mentioned it, if only to blame the companies.”

  “I think I'll take a few photos and show Aunt Thora,” I said. “She's a good resource for supernatural plants. She’s convinced that lemon trees are so magical that they had to have originated in Otherworld.” I used my phone to take a couple of photos.

  “Are you sure we shouldn’t just dig it up?” Clara asked.

  “I agree with Neville. We need to know more first,” I said. “Besides, a dying plant isn't likely to do any harm, supernatural or otherwise. Thanks for looping me in, though.”

  “It takes a supernatural village,” Clara joked.

  “What will we tell Mr. Tasker?” Neville asked.

  “We have to say something,” I said. “I’d rather he not blab about it to other people. The last thing I need is this plant going viral. Once it’s online, it’s out there.”