Spellbinding Blend

by Kennedy Layne

  Look, Columbo. All these lovely theories are nothing but sheer conjecture. Let the good ol’ sheriff and that oaf of a state police detective deal with these criminals. We took our best shot, we failed, and now we can enjoy the rest of our evening in the fashion which we’ve grown accustomed. Time for my evening pipe.

  I disagreed with Leo. After all the effort we’d put into finding out who murdered Kevin Paul, it was going to be all for naught. I had a hard time accepting defeat, though.

  Really? I find it relatively easy to let go, except when it comes to Skippy and his clan of ninja squirrels. I could be working on my next great plan to snatch the acorn from his paw, but your little escapades have been eating up my creative time. Can we please be done now?

  It was highly doubtful that Liam would believe me if I suddenly had an epiphany that I’d seen the face of the murderer. I highly doubted that his unfailing belief in me stretched quite that far. A sketch artist would have come in handy right about now.

  Then there was another problem—I hadn’t been able to see the killer’s shirt clearly. If it had been a grey set of overalls, thus indicating that he’d been a carnival worker, I’d be able to pick him out from the other employees on staff. Not knowing either way, this exercise could be like finding a needle in a haystack.

  What if the murderer had already left town? Then I would never be able to find justice for the man whose body I’d stumbled over.

  “It’s only eight o’clock on a Saturday evening,” my mother pointed out, standing from her seat in the overstuffed chair as if she were on a mission. She set her hands on her hips as if she’d come to a major decision. A wave of unease rolled over my stomach, because my mother’s plans usually had me doing something I didn’t want to do. In this case, she might very well propose that I break my promise to Liam. “You swore to Liam that you’d stay away from the carnival tonight, but I did no such thing.”

  Your mother has never watched a horror flick, has she? I’m fairly sure we still have “The Texas Chainsaw Massacre” on DVD. There are definitely some lessons to be learned from that classic, not the first of which is not to marry your sister. Lesson number one—the first person who separates from the group is usually the first victim…or the killer. It really depends on the director. Hmmmm. Perhaps I’ve stumbled upon—

  “Do you think I don’t know about your annual conflict with Skippy and the other poor squirrels living in this small town?” my mother asked with that infamous arched eyebrow. Leo’s whiskers twitched at the underlying threat she’d just given. “Now, where were we? Ah, yes! I’ll give Beetle a call and see if he would like to join me for a funnel cake for two. I’ve had a hankering ever since I set foot in town knowing I’d be here during the Spring Festival.”

  Raven, I don’t know about you, but I’m getting numerous disturbing visions of the kind of trouble your mother can get Beetle into…and it’s not very pretty. May I remind you how I get when I don’t have my catnip? Beetle is my sole supplier of premium organic catnip in the county. He gives me edibles every morning. Should something happen to him, I cannot be held responsible for what actions I might take in response.

  “You’re getting on my very last nerve, Leo,” my mother warned, crossing over to where her purse was located on the entry table beside mine. She reached into her bag and pulled out her cell phone, a little too eager to place a call to my part-time employee. “Oh, look at that! Beetle had the very same thought. He already texted me. Isn’t that convenient?”

  I’ll admit to being a bit unnerved. Mother’s sleight of hand was unmatched. The radiant smile that lit up my mother’s pretty features was unlike any delight I’ve seen on her before. In the shop earlier this morning, I’d been pretty sure she’d put on an air about flirting with Beetle. She’d even admitted to it, but this? This woman standing before me? She was…happy.

  It’s a scary look on her, isn’t it? A lot like Mad Cow disease.

  Had I been closer to the couch, I would have knocked Leo on the head with the wine bottle. I found my mother’s newfound joy rather refreshing. She’d grown more sarcastic over the years, and it didn’t help that I’d all but thrown everything she’d tried to mold me into right out the window for the one thing she’d never wanted for me—life as a witch.

  “Mom, I’m not so sure attending the carnival this evening is the right thing to do,” I said cautiously, not wanting to be the one to wipe the smile from her face. “Liam wouldn’t have asked us to stay home if he didn’t believe that was the safest choice.”

  I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I once again agree with the good ol’ sheriff. We should all stay here, although your mother is free to go visit with Ted and mend the rift that has materialized between them. I’m sure that shed could hold the two of them quite comfortably. He has a space heater, right?

  “Raven has a point, Mrs. M,” Heidi said supportively, tucking her legs underneath her on the couch as she turned around to address my mom. “Jack texted me a bit ago, making sure that Raven and I were here at home. Whatever sting they are hoping to bring off tonight, it sounds pretty dangerous.”

  That means that Skippy and his fellow band of scoundrels will be hiding in the trees tonight. They’re vulnerable to stray gunfire, you know. At least one good thing has come from this murder mystery, and that’s keeping those squirrels from wreaking havoc and overrunning this town.

  “It couldn’t be that dangerous if Liam is allowing all the other residents of Paramour Bay to attend the festivities this evening,” my mother reasoned, her long red nails not getting in the way of her fingers rapidly flying over the display of her phone. Her smile somehow brightened even more with a sly twist. “Did you know that there are fireworks scheduled for ten o’clock?”

  Do you think this is all Rosemary’s doing? Maybe she found out about the time I tried to melt Ted with a match after he stepped on my tail. In my defense, having a six and a half-foot giant stand on my tail might have caused me to experience temporary insanity.

  “Mom, you’re missing Liam’s point.” I did agree that he wouldn’t have allowed the festivities to go on as planned if he thought being at the carnival would jeopardize anyone’s life, but I wasn’t just another pretty face. Having come to that conclusion produced a bright smile of my own. “I get that you enjoyed spending time with Beetle today, but we promised Liam we’d stay home tonight.”

  “You promised him, dear. Not me, nor Beetle.” My mother finally stopped texting and dropped the phone into her purse as if that was the final word on the subject. A shot of fear went through me when my mother plucked my car keys from the wooden bowl I’d replaced after Leo had broken the previous porcelain one. “Seeing as you and Heidi are going to drink wine all evening, you won’t be needing your car. I’ll call you should I spot a man with a combover of greasy hair. What color did you say it was?”

  Don’t answer her, Raven! This is nothing more than a trap to get us to follow her, and we’re not going to do it. We’re standing our ground, right? Keeping our word to the good ol’ sheriff?

  “Blackish,” I replied, quickly handing off the bottle of wine to Heidi as I continued toward the front door. “Mom, don’t you dare do anything foolish. Stay in crowds, remain by Beetle’s side, and call me immediately if anything out of the ordinary happens.”

  And just what do you think you’ll do then, genius? Fly over to the carnival on the broom your mother obviously used to get here?

  “Leo will be there in a flash to help should you need him.” My response was mostly meant for my mother, but Leo got the gist. “And I’ll call Liam to the rescue, if necessary.”

  I’m…flabbergasted. You just threw me under the bus, Raven. All six tires, including the back duals. I’m not even sure Skippy would have done such a thing. We share a code of honor. That really hurt, Raven.

  “Stop being overly dramatic,” I replied before turning back to face my mother. “I’m serious, Mom. Stay safe.”

  “You know very well I can defend myse
lf against a mere human killer.” My mother slung the strap of her purse over her shoulder as if I’d just insulted her. “Don’t wait up for me. If plans go accordingly, I’ll be quite late. Ta-ta!”

  Thank the sweet angel of mercy, she’s finally gone. Where’s my pipe?

  And just like that, my mother walked out the front door as if Paramour Bay didn’t have a killer on the loose. The only sound was the slightest swish of pouring wine. My best friend knew me so well.

  Me, too. I’ll take a saucer.

  Heidi didn’t have to be a witch to know that Leo had all but demanded his catnip, his pipe, and a saucer of wine. Now that the rest of the evening was going to pass by very, very slowly.

  “I should probably warn Liam.” I slowly made my way back to the overstuffed chair my mother had vacated, sinking into the comfortable cushion after I’d snagged my wine glass from Heidi. I did have to grimace when I saw that Heidi had poured Leo’s catnip in a small mound on the coffee table. Leo was already rolling on top of the minty herb, quickly spreading the green tasty bits all over the surface. It would no doubt get stuck in the hand-carved crevices and drive him crazy for months. “It’s too bad I can’t give him a description of the killer.”

  “What if you could?” Heidi had a hint of glimmer in her blue eyes. That alone told me she’d come up with one of her wild and crazy plans. “What if I figured out a way for you to give Liam and Jack the information without them suspecting a thing?”

  Leo had stopped wiggling and laid perfectly still on the coffee table, staring up at the ceiling without blinking.

  I couldn’t have just one night of peace, now could I?

  “I’m game,” I replied with enthusiasm, taking a fortifying sip of my wine. Was it so wrong to want to take a ride on the Ferris wheel with Liam so that we could sneak that notorious kiss at the top? “What do you have in mind?”

  Chapter Twelve

  I’m having déjà vu again…this is like the hundredth time in the past six months I’ve known about something before it happened. That’s a low estimate, by the way. Have I mentioned recently that this is a bad idea?

  Leo didn’t have to convey his mantra concerning the past six months, because I was in full agreement. Heidi’s plans were usually chock full of really, really bad ideas.

  “I can’t do it.”

  Has the supernatural realm frozen over? Are you actually taking my advice?

  “Raven, it’s the only way you can make sure that Liam has a description of the killer. How else are Liam and Jack going to make an arrest?”

  “The old-fashioned way. Hard and persistent work following up leads.”

  We need to mark this date on a calendar. It could replace my birthday as the best day ever. So this is what pride in my accomplishments feel like. I should get some kind of ribbon or maybe even a trophy. It’s not as effective as a bag of catnip, but it’s a close second. That would be good. I might actually be on a roll here. Skippy better batten the hatches, because I’m gunning for him the next time he starts chucking acorns.

  “Heidi, I’ve done nothing but lie to Liam about who and what I am,” I explained, holding the cell phone tightly in my hand after I couldn’t make the call she’d suggested. “I’ve done my best to be truthful about everything else in my life. My family’s legacy is the only thing I’ve left out, but it’s a major part of my life that I can’t share with the man who I’m falling in love with. Do you know how that feels? How it tears me apart? I actually thought of your plan myself earlier today, but I can’t do it. I can’t.”

  That’s my girl. I’ll just hop on the net and order that trophy we talked about. What’s your PayPal password again?

  Heidi and I had been talking about her plan for the last hour, going over the pros and cons. She’d suggested that I call Liam and tell him that I saw someone standing outside of my cottage, thereby giving him the exact description of the killer. Yes, it was a way to communicate important details of the murder without disclosing how I’d come by the information, but I’d be telling another lie. It would be just one more knife in the back, and it would just make me feel worse about myself than I already did.

  Eh, you get used to the weight of it all after a while. Not that I want you to change your outlook on this particular subject.

  “Liam and Jack are conducting the drug sting tonight. It’s not right to distract him, causing him to go on a wild goose chase looking for some intruder I made up, pulling his concentration off what could be a very dangerous assignment.” I set down my cell phone and leaned forward enough to reach into one of the secret drawers of the coffee table that held my family’s grimoire. “Leo, do you know if there’s a spell where I can project a thought into someone else? Like when Mother caused Heidi to call me that one time, because she thought something might be wrong?”

  There’s a spell for practically everything, but isn’t that the same as lying? You’re going to have to be clearer with your intentions, because I’m not seeing the difference between what you’re suggesting and what Heidi asked you to do, with the exception of the method of notification. Raven, don’t make this euphoric feeling disappear. Do the right thing here.

  “You’re right,” I conceded, sharing with Heidi the reason Leo was concerned. “I’d also be messing with Liam’s thoughts, and I can’t bring myself to cast a spell on him. We’ve found ourselves in quite the pickle, haven’t we?”

  I hate pickles. Not nearly as much as my aversion to a Connecticut genus fox squirrel named Skippy, but I’d say pickles are at the bottom of my list of adversaries.

  “You needed an object that was owned by Kevin Paul to see his last thoughts, right?” Heidi pointed out, clearly having another idea form in that brilliant head of hers. “Jack didn’t mention to me what was used to hit Mr. Paul on the back of the head, but did you see anything in the combover guy’s hand that suggested what could have been used as the murder weapon? Maybe it’s still at the scene of the crime.”

  Heidi dearest is a little too smart for her own good. I do appreciate brilliance in every form, but hers is liable to land us both in a boiling cauldron of witch hazel oil I have reserved for Skippy.

  “No, I couldn’t make out anything like that. I saw Kevin Paul’s last few seconds, and he had his back to the killer when he was struck from behind.” I did like the fact that Heidi was thinking outside the box and with magic. Witchcraft was my sole weapon, and I needed to use my supernatural abilities to my advantage. “What did Bulldog look like?”

  “At least three or four inches over six feet, a buzz cut, and biceps larger than my thighs.”

  This Bulldog sounds like a potential special forces recruit I could use for my anti-rodent army I’m forming to deal with the likes of Skippy.

  “What about Seymour?”

  Heidi’s eyebrow rose with a tilt of her head. She even pursed her lips as if we might have hit the nail on the head.

  You’d have to be swinging the hammer right, and we all know that your natural sense of aim is off by a mile.

  “I don’t recall seeing Seymour. Leo did say that Olive and George were talking about hiding evidence, and she was the one to bring up Seymour’s name,” Heidi pointed out, excitement getting the both of us. “Maybe we can call your mother and have her seek him out to see if he has a combover.”

  My cell phone vibrated on the coffee table. Heidi and I exchanged quick glances, figuring it was my mother calling to tell us she’d located a carnival worker with a greasy combover. Only it was Liam’s name that showed on the display.

  The good ol’ sheriff does have excellent timing.

  “Hi,” I replied softly after I’d accepted the call. It was easy to tell that he was at the carnival. Shouts, laughter, and all the familiar rings of the different rides could be heard in the background. I raised my voice a bit louder so that I would be easier to hear. “Is everything okay?”

  “Better than okay. How does a ride on the Ferris wheel sound?”

  By this time, Heidi had scooted to
the end of the couch and was leaning forward in an attempt to find out why Liam was calling. Leo was still splayed out across the coffee table, his entire focus on me.

  “A ride on the Ferris wheel?” I reiterated so that Heidi and Leo could follow along with the conversation. “Does that mean everything went okay with the sting?”

  “Jack and his men did a fantastic job rounding up those involved in the drug ring,” Liam prided, giving credit where credit was due. “Three arrests were made, one was taken in for questioning concerning another lead, and Jack is escorting them to the county jail to be processed through the system as we speak. Jack wanted me to tell Heidi that he’ll be in touch after he’s finished the initial paperwork tonight.”

  There were so many questions I wanted to ask, but the wrong one would clue Liam in that I knew more about the case than I should. I technically shouldn’t know George Mertes, Olive, or Clara. I wasn’t even sure Clara was one of the people involved, but I could safely assume that George and Olive were part of the four in custody.

  Although if George Mertes had been arrested, why was the carnival still operating? Was there an alternate individual in the management chain when it came to the traveling business? I wasn’t quite sure how carnivals worked nowadays.

  You had to have been a reporter in your past life. Questions, questions, and more questions. Let it go, Raven. Like the song says…let it go.

  “I’ll relay the message to Heidi.” I slowly closed the family grimoire and set it on the coffee table beside Leo. It appeared that there was no need for me to cast another spell, yet the palm of my hand still held that tingling sensation that forewarned me that not all the danger had passed. “Were the three individuals arrested all part of Kevin Paul’s murder? That poor man.”

  That was a legitimate question, right?

  It’s still a question, Raven. Still another question.

  Leo had been hanging out with Beetle too long. He was beginning to repeat phrases too many times for my liking, but I ignored his new annoying habit to concentrate on Liam’s answer.