Cryptic Blend

by Kennedy Layne

  Sure enough, Heidi was brought up short.

  Are we being pranked? That’s it, isn’t it? Your mother came to town thinking she’d have a bit of fun and set up the talking raccoon gig, brought Rye in on the joke, and then desecrated a coffin. It is a bit overboard, but I’ll admit that it was well played. Regina Lattice Marigold, you show yourself right this minute!

  We were all as still as the two stone coffins, secretly hoping that Leo was right and that this was all some sort of distasteful hoax. Unfortunately, not even my mother would take things this far to prove a point. That didn’t stop us from giving her time to show herself, but we all finally had to admit that we were in real, real trouble.

  You see, Caroline Abigail Whitley’s ring was not in the coffin…but neither were her remains.

  “Now might be a good time for me confess,” Rye said reluctantly while he shifted with unease. He reclaimed his flashlight. “You see, I—”

  I knew it! Where is she? Regina Lattice Marigold, show yourself, you miscreant!

  “Regina isn’t here, Leo,” Rye replied, tilting his head back as if he were reluctant to acknowledge whatever it was he was trying to confess. “This one is all on me.”

  Confess?

  That’s what he said. Let him do it, Raven. Confess your sins, you evil doer!

  Had he been the one to desecrate a founding member’s burial chambers?

  I couldn’t bring myself to believe something so horrendous, so I braced myself for whatever I was about to hear. I was still in somewhat shock that we were dealing with an empty coffin, so it was rather easy to allow Leo to take the lead.

  This is Rowena’s doing, isn’t it? She’s trying to build a ghoul army to take down the other faction of the coven, and she’s having you dig up the remains of the dead to—

  “I might have allowed Leo to consume a bit too much catnip before we started out here tonight,” I grudgingly affirmed, shooting Leo a look that told him his flair for the dramatic wasn’t helping the situation. “Rye, what did you do?”

  “I made an attempt to contact one of my ancestors last night.”

  I did not see that one coming.

  “I set up a séance and tried to open up a channel of communication between the living and the dead. I don’t think it was your hex bag that was responsible for the missing remains of Caroline Abigail Whitley. I’m pretty sure that consequence lies solely at my feet, but I want you to know that I’ll do whatever it takes to rectify this situation. Go on home. Pretend you didn’t see a thing, and I’ll make sure that things are set right before the next sunrise.”

  Did you hear that, Raven? Did you?

  Leo seemed somewhat on the verge of an anxiety attack and had begun pacing back and forth on top of the stone lid, which only seemed to unnerve him further. Heidi might have muttered oh dear, but I couldn’t hear her muted whisper over the pounding of blood in my ears. Also, I was doing my very best to make sure I didn’t hyperventilate.

  I’m pretty sure I heard the resident warlock say he opened up the door between the living and the dead, Raven. I’m going to be sick. Here it comes…the biggest hairball I’ve ever regurgitated. Is it a bad thing if I hack it up into the coffin? I mean, who would actually say to themselves—other than one of your relatives—that it would be a good idea to open communication between the living and the dead? This bumbling warlock did, that’s who—all by himself. In a town of three hundred and fifty-six people…three hundred and fifty-four of them being regular everyday humans. Wasn’t that so smart of him?

  “Leo, I made sure to take precautions,” Rye said in defense of himself. Had he taken the proper precautions? I’d also finished casting a protection ward against evil, so I’d say it was a fifty-fifty chance as to which one of us was responsible for…well, I wasn’t exactly sure what we were dealing with here. Was it possible that our spells interfered with one another? With that said, opening up a door for any and all spirits to walk through hadn’t been the best of ideas. “If something or someone did slip through, I can contain it.”

  I’ll tell you what we’re dealing with, you two bumbling spell-flubbers—a zombie apocalypse. But you two couldn’t just stick with regular zombies, could you? You had to go include talking raccoons, and now those garbage scroungers plan to take over the world! Hack…hack…and here comes the hairball. I’m going to be cursed for desecrating a coffin.

  Chapter Five

  “Please tell me that I have a hangover from drinking too much wine last night and that my raging headache is the sole reason I had a horrible nightmare about an empty crypt, a missing ring, and—”

  Go ahead and say it.

  Leo sat immobile in his favorite lounging spot by the front window. He was still sulking because I didn’t believe him about last night’s talking raccoon encounter, though his intense gaze was glued to the front yard as if we were about to be invaded by a horde of zombies.

  Talking raccoons. Yes, a raccoon tried to start a conversation with me. It happened. Now, please tell my beloved Heidi that I’ll watch for the herd of zombie garbage scrappers and give her fair warning so that she can make a run for it. Skippy will finally be able to witness my heroic death.

  “Leo, stop being so dramatic,” I chided him with a yawn, pouring coffee into two mugs for both me and Heidi. We were going to need some sort of fuel to come up with a plan to rectify the small problem we’d encountered in the graveyard last night. I had a revelation as I combed back over the spell I’d cast into Heidi’s hex bag, and I’m nearly certain that I’d done everything to perfection. “Heidi, you aren’t hungover. Come to think of it, you didn’t even have a sip of wine after we got home from the cemetery. But I do have good news, because I got to thinking that maybe we’re not dealing with simple witchcraft, after all.”

  Thinking before your first sip of coffee is never wise, my dear Raven. Haven’t we learned anything in these past few months?

  Heidi was currently sitting on one of the stools at the kitchen island slumped over the counter with her forehead pressed against her forearms. It was my overly optimistic statement that had her lifting her head, but at least she gave Leo a quick glance over her shoulder.

  “Leo, give her a chance to tell us what she came up with, because I’m not quite ready for a zombie apocalypse this morning.” Heidi leaned forward in desperation even more, wiggling her fingers at me to signal that she was in dire need of some caffeine. “What do you mean that you don’t think it was simple witchcraft? I hate to break this to you, but skeletal remains just don’t open the lid to their own burial chamber and walk off through the graveyard rattling their bones as they take a stroll.”

  That was the exact point I was trying to make.

  I joined Heidi at the island after sliding a mug into her grabby little hands. It was best I start from the beginning, but I was going to have to make this quick. I’d already given Liam a call to meet us at the cemetery around lunchtime.

  You did what? No, don’t answer that question. I’ll just hear random facts that aren’t related in the least, leaving me no choice but to blame that necromancy spell your grandmother used to prevent me from crossing into the afterlife. It’s more of a catchall catastrophe, really. More damage was done than we’d thought…I’m actually brain dead, aren’t I?

  “Leo, just hear me out for a minute,” I requested, holding up a hand while I took a fortifying sip of my coffee. I had to close my eyes as the delicious rich beverage warmed my tattered soul. There was a reason for that, too. “Listen, you two. I don’t believe Caroline Abigail Whitley was turned into a ghoul, a zombie, or anything else like that. I think her skeletal remains were stolen from the Whitley family crypt, along with all the valuable jewelry she was laid to rest with so many years ago.”

  Heidi had used my slippers that she’d confiscated to shift the stool so that she was facing me, but she didn’t say a word at my announcement. As a matter of fact, she blinked those baby blue eyes of hers quite a few times while attempting to digest my new the
ory along with its implications. She even took another sip of her coffee as if she was ready to hear more. It wasn’t long after I failed to continue that she shared an odd look with Leo that told me neither one of them was buying what I was selling.

  You’ve got nothing more to say?

  “Think about it,” I said, setting my mug on the granite counter so that I could get my point across. “I created the hex bag two nights ago, the same evening that Rye attempted to do a séance. Twenty-four hours later, we walked into a crypt to find that Caroline Abigail Whitley’s remains were no longer in her final resting place. If either one of us were responsible for the rising of the dead, something dire would have occurred within that same twenty-four hours. Black magic has consequences for the caster. Nothing has happened.”

  If you hadn’t moved for centuries, don’t you think it might take you longer than a day to get your joints working again? Have you considered that the consequences are pending?

  “Whatever he said,” Heidi murmured in agreement from behind her coffee cup.

  It’s wishful thinking, which is the one activity you shouldn’t be doing without having finished your first cup of coffee. We’ve talked about this on numerous occasions, Raven.

  “I’m serious.” How could Leo and Heidi not connect the dots? “I just spoke with Liam not even fifteen minutes ago. Don’t you think if there was an animated undead creature of some sort roaming around Paramour Bay that he wouldn’t have been the first one to catch an earful about it? Nothing happens in this town without Liam hearing something first.”

  Considering there’s at least one novice witch, a practicing warlock, a rather brilliant familiar, and a giant walking Crayola roaming around the streets of this coastal town without the good ol’ sheriff connecting the dots, I would have to disagree with that not-so-obvious assessment. And that’s not even mentioning the witch’s coven he stumbled into, the insane war brewing between the factions of said coven, and the fact that there’s an entire supernatural realm that exists right under the good ol’ sheriff’s nose. It’s quite astonishing, really. He doesn’t have the slightest idea what goes on in his town.

  “That’s not fair, Leo, and you know it.”

  “Raven has a point,” Heidi said, finally backing me up. “I mean, no one has gone missing. Liam would have immediately warned Raven. On top of that, what type of respectable poltergeist leaves a genuine sapphire ring in a half-dollar basket at a garage sale?”

  I see Heidi’s point, but the same could be said for a human. Who in their right mind would leave jewelry worth tens of thousands of dollars in a cheap basket with a sign that read fifty cents apiece? No one, that’s who.

  “Leo, are there any descendants of the Whitley family who are still alive and reside in or around Paramour Bay?” I reached for my coffee now that we were finally getting somewhere. “I understand that anyone could have gone inside the crypt and stole…well, everything inside, but doesn’t it stand to reason that it would be a Whitley wanting to gain access to the family jewels? Who else would know the jewels were buried with them?”

  Everyone, that’s who. It’s not like it was kept a secret. As for the Whitleys, there are a few remaining households near the waterfront properties, but those descendants favor the city over a small coastal town that doesn’t offer them the entertainment and access. I hate to pop your balloon, but they’re worth several thousand times more than that one sapphire ring. They would have no reason to rob the grave of their great-great-great-great grandmother, let alone steal her skeletal remains and a few trinkets.

  “I might love me some diamonds, rubies, and sapphires, but I have to say that desecrating the grave of an old ancestor is pretty morbid,” Heidi interjected with a roll of her eyes before taking her mug over to the couch in the living room. She settled into the oversized cushions with a sigh, very content to be in the safety of the cottage. “Personally, I like the idea that we’re dealing with human greed over some soul-eating ghoul. So, what’s the plan?”

  You two seem to be conveniently forgetting about the talking raccoon. We have a real problem on our hands, and you two seem to have your heads in the garbage can right along with them.

  That talking raccoon was the only snag in my theory. I’d have to do a little research about that stash of premium organic catnip Leo had shipped here from Honduras. Maybe there was some online forum where pet owners went to talk about side effects from such an exotic intoxicating herb.

  Really? You’ve sunk so low that you don’t believe your most trusted advisor? That is—

  I’d joined Heidi in the living room to finish our conversation, plus to enjoy the rest of my coffee before getting ready for the day. I hadn’t even made it to my favorite oversized red velvet pillow in front of the fireplace when Leo had all but fallen out of his cat bed backing up from something he’d seen outside.

  Look, Raven!

  Leo had managed to bark his order out right before he lost his footing and all but fell to the floor with an unceremonious thud. He certainly wasn’t quick on his feet, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen him vanish from one spot and reappear in another so fast. By the time my focus had landed on him back on top of his cat bed, he had his nose pressed tightly against the window.

  The talking raccoon is gone! Vanished. Vamoosed. Raven, you have to be quicker than that if you wish to uncover the supernatural.

  “Are you saying you saw the talking raccoon again?” I made my way over to the window overlooking the front lawn, quickly scanning the black wrought iron fence that surrounded the property. The only thing I spotted was rather hard to miss, and that was Ted as he walked by the window without even a sideways glance. “We’ll ask Ted if he saw anything when he came around the side of the house.”

  Ted is probably the reason the garbage eater scampered away.

  Leo plopped back onto his cat bed with a disappointing sigh.

  I did not imagine that talking raccoon, Raven. And only flubbed-up spells can lead to talking garbage disposals.

  “I’m not saying you completely imagined the raccoon, but you’ve also never tried that Honduras premium organic catnip before,” I pointed out, not wanting to rule anything out. “If Rye and I had nothing to do with the empty crypt, then we’d have to come up with a reasonable explanation as to why you had a literal conversation with a raccoon.”

  “Is it possible that the raccoon is a familiar?” Heidi asked right when Ted knocked on the door. He never used the doorbell. I wasn’t sure what his aversion was to the white button. “Or maybe Nan cursed a door-to-door salesman who used to be an annoying human. That could have happened, right?”

  And you thought I had a flair for the dramatic.

  “Good morning,” Ted announced after I’d swung open the door.

  I’d mentioned this before, but Ted had come with the house. He lived in the small dwelling on the back of the property near the water’s edge, and he was very succinct in the way he spoke.

  Dwelling? It’s a shed, Raven. Most people put lawnmowers in them, not their henchmen.

  “Oh, you’re just cranky because no one else has seen the talking raccoon with our own eyes. And to answer your question, Heidi, I haven’t yet found a spell in the family grimoire that can turn a human into an animal of any sort.”

  “Do I want to know why you were looking for one?” Heidi asked with a laugh, sitting up a little straighter and saying hello to Ted. “Ted, my man. How’s it hanging?”

  “It’s going fine, Ms. Heidi.”

  You should let Heidi know that we don’t have some sort of bat signal that lets us know when another of our kind is around, and no one in their right mind would choose a rabid garbage disposal as a familiar.

  Ted had a basket in his extremely large hand, which I knew contained material components for spells I usually liked to dabble in on Saturdays. Now that I had part-time help at the tea shop, I could stay at home and work on creating the holistic blends needed for those local residents in need of some herbal remedies…w
ith an added touch of magic, of course.

  “Did you, by chance, see a raccoon in the front yard?” I asked, sliding back a bit on the hardwood floor with my fuzzy socks. It certainly wasn’t the time of year to be wearing them, but they were so cozy that I couldn’t bring myself to store them away for the summer quite yet.

  “Raccoons are nocturnal, Ms. Raven.”

  For being made of congealed wax, Ted certainly is a walking encyclopedia of useless facts. You tell that oversized grey crayon that—

  “Yes, raccoons are nocturnal,” I replied with a smile, closing the door now that Ted had ducked underneath the doorway and made his way inside. “Leo had a…well, a run-in with a rather verbose raccoon last night. He thought he saw the same one outside a few moments ago.”

  I thought I saw? Your choice of words leaves a lot to be desired.

  “I did not see a raccoon.” Ted slowly made his way over to the coffee table, setting the white wicker basket down on the polished surface in the precise manner and placement that had almost become obsessive. He literally shifted the basket three times in quick succession until the side was in perfect alignment with one of the hand carved grooves. “I will be heading into town now.”

  Ted had what one might call an odd crush on a mannequin in the boutique a couple of storefronts down from the teashop. None of the townsfolk really talked about it much, very kindly accepting that Ted was a bit different from the norm. His kind heart for all things was hard to miss, and he always had a crooked smile for everyone who said hello.

  “Should I see a raccoon, I will ask if it knows Leo.”

  Sweet angel of mercy, I’m surrounded by—

  “Ted, do you know the Whitley family?” Heidi asked, having no idea she’d just saved Ted from a mouthful of meows. She shifted to her side and propped herself up with her right elbow. “They were one of the founding families of the town.”