Fiona pulled out the Bailey’s and poured a shot into a coffee mug.
“I don’t believe in coincidences. If I learned anything in this house, it was that. So what was it, hmm?” I leaned against the counter and crossed my arms. “Basil in his boots? An incantation the full moon before last? Did you tie our yearbook pictures together with a rose vine and bury them in the woods? What?”
“Don’t be silly. I would never do any of those things.”
The rich aroma of the coffee filled the kitchen and I helped myself to a cup. Fiona poured some in the mug with the Irish cream liquor and handed it to Lolly.
Clearly my point had been made, whether she was going to admit to playing puppet master or not.
“If that’s the story you’re sticking to, just know that I do not practice magic anymore.”
It wasn't that I didn't buy into the principles of my family's nature-centered philosophy; it's just that I didn't see the point. Whether you prayed to the Holy Trinity or the Triple Goddess made no difference to me because when it came down to it, all the magic in the world couldn't save my father. And when I needed my mother most, no matter how many herbs I enchanted, how many spells I cast, she did what I knew in my heart she would.
Disappear.
Fiona cocked her head and cleared her throat.
“Except for last night, I mean. That was a one-time deal for Gramps.”
“Humph,” she said. She ran some apples and pears under the faucet. “We’ll see what your grandmother has to say about that.”
Crap. Between Chance, the mirror, and Ed, I forgot all about Birdie.
“About that, Fiona. There’s something I need to tell you.”
“What’s that, dear?” She was peeling the fruit with a knife, the skins falling in long ribbons into a glazed blue bowl.
Didn’t they notice she wasn’t home?
“You see, the reason Birdie didn’t come home last night is because, um, because--”
“Because she was at the police station.” Lolly belted back the spiked coffee and burped.
“You knew?” It hadn’t occurred to me that Birdie would have called.
“Certainly,” said Fiona. She quartered the fruit and tossed it with lemon juice.
That was a relief. One less thing to deal with. Lolly seemed to be holding it together and Fiona was busy putting together a fruit crisp.
“It’s all settled.” Fiona bent to turn the oven to 350 degrees.
She was being released? “Really? She’s coming home? When?”
Fiona and Lolly chuckled. “That depends on you,” they said in unison.
Uh-oh. Now, what were they up to?
Lolly kissed my cheek and said, “We aren’t up to anything.”
Did I say that out loud?
“Now, why don’t you run along so we can prepare for the afternoon arrivals?” She topped the apples and pears with butter, brown sugar, and oats and popped it into the oven.
“Fine. I can take a hint.” I stood up and put on my wool jacket. “I just have one question. When was the last time someone stayed in the cottage?”
Fiona tapped her chin. “Not since the renovation. Why do you ask?”
“No reason.”
I followed the brick walkway that coiled to the front of the house and exited through the iron gate. It was almost time to meet my cousin, but it was a warm morning, so I decided to walk.
I didn't hear the car behind me until it was too late.
Chapter 10
A black, souped-up muscle car coasted next to me like Jaws stalking his lunch. The windows were tinted just dark enough not to be illegal. All I could see were sunglasses shaped like the ones highway patrolmen wear.
The window oozed down. "Get in," he said.
I stopped walking, slid my own shades down the bridge of my nose.
"No freaking way.”
"Come on. I’ll take you for a ride."
He rolled the window all the way down.
"I need the exercise, Tony. Besides, I'm headed to meet Cin and she would kill me if she saw me with you."
"I'll take you down to the corner and drop you off. I need to talk to you, Stacy. Pleeeeeeze."
Geez, I hated to watch a man beg. I let a cry of frustration and waved my fist to the sky.
Tony took that as a sign of acquiescence. He swung the car door open and I reluctantly climbed in.
"Where you headed?" he asked.
"Muddy Waters."
Tony sat there for a minute staring at his shoes, the engine idling. I never noticed before, but he could have passed for Cin's brother. Same dark complexion, same thick, wavy hair. Since she was half Sicilian and he was all Italian I guess it made sense. I stared at him, waiting for him to say something. This was not a conversation I wanted to have, but the man was a member of my family at one time and I felt a little sorry for him.
Finally, he spoke. "I miss her, Stacy.” His voice was broken, which matched his heart I supposed but it was his own damn fault. He was lucky he walked away with only a torched car and a broken heart because Cin could have busted up a lot more. In fact, her restraint surprised me. Very unlike Cin to let someone off so easy who crossed her.
"You screwed up, Tony," I said.
"I know. I know. I'm a bastard," he slammed his hands against the steering wheel. "I know it isn't an excuse, but I was so drunk, I don't even remember that night.”
"You're right, that's no excuse," I agreed, but something was knocking in the back of my mind when he said those words. I don’t remember.
"You gotta help me out here, Stacy." His eyes were all misty, giving me a teddy bear stare.
"Forget it. I value my life." Cin did not take kindly to uninvited advice.
"I'm begging you." His voice was all squeaky.
"What am I going to say?" I threw up my hands. "You cheated on her with the person she despises most in this world. I just don't see how you can mend that fence, Tony.”
"Look, she's the one who walked out. I was out of my mind with worry. I thought she left me or ran away or worse. No one knew where she was for days."
He had a very tiny point.
"This is not the time to bring all that up," I said.
Tony gave me an apologetic look. "Aw, hey, I'm sorry. How is Gramps?"
“I honestly don’t know.”
“I should be there for her,” he said as if he were thinking out loud.
Tony loved my cousin. There was no question he would take a bullet for her. In fact, he had already taken his fair share of right hooks for her. Cinnamon’s mouth got her in more trouble than a political candidate with Tourette’s Syndrome and Tony had tried to interfere in many a battle.
This was an impossible situation.
I sighed. "I'll do what I can.”
"Thank you." He hugged my neck.
I shook my head, feeling as if I just agreed to arm-wrestle an alligator. "Drive."
Cinnamon texted me as Tony crested the hill and I felt a pang of guilt. She wanted to know if we could just go straight to the hospital and skip the coffee shop. Her distributor had changed the time of his delivery so she had to make the visit quick. I texted back that I’d meet her there.
A few minutes later, after promising Tony I would try to get my cousin to at least speak with him, I was standing in front of the hospital when my cousin rushed toward me apologizing for the change in plans. I waved it off and we walked through the automatic doors.
Lynn Bernstein, an old classmate, sat behind the reception desk. She was finishing up a call and hung up the phone before greeting us. Cin explained we were there for Gramps and Lynn gave us the room number and directions.
Gramps was a few floors up, so we headed toward the elevator just as the door slid open revealing Ed and Roy Entwhistle.
"Dad, calm down," Ed was saying, a hand on his father's back.
Roy hunched slightly, his face pinched tight as if he was constipated. "That jackass," he mumbled.
I cleared my throat a
nd Ed looked up, his face red.
"Hey, Stacy," Ed said.
"Hello," I said.
Roy marched down the hall still mumbling something about no-good jackasses.
Ed said, "Stacy, we have to get together and catch up. How about dinner later?"
"Thanks, Ed, but I don't have the time right now." Or ever.
Ed nodded and smiled and Cin and I slipped into the elevator.
“What was that about?” I asked, punching the floor number.
Cin shrugged as the doors closed. “Who knows? He’s a cranky old coot and his son is three kinds of creepy.”
I stared at the worn carpeted floor as the car crept up the shaft.
Was Roy holding a grudge on that old real estate deal? Did he still harbor resentment toward Gramps?
There was a ding as the elevator came to a stop and the steel door slid into the wall. We stepped out into the hall where a doctor was having a tight-lipped conversation with an attractive older woman in a red suit. She was holding a plastic cup and the doctor quickly handed her something and walked away.
Pearl came out of the room then, her eyes wide and happy to see me. “Sugar.” She hugged me close, her bangle bracelets clinking in my ear. She was a dozen years younger than Gramps with golden straight hair, heart-shaped lips, and a behind that proved she made the best cheesecake in town.
Pearl turned to the woman with the cup. “Gretchen, dear, this is Stacy. Oscar’s granddaughter.”
“A pleasure.”
I smiled at her and Pearl said, “Gretchen is my niece. She’s staying with us for a bit. Helping out at the restaurant.” She smiled at me and then Gretchen for an uncomfortably long time. Then she said, “Is that Oscar’s hot chocolate?”
“Yes.” Gretchen handed Pearl the cup and she went into Gramps’ room.
Cinnamon was hanging back, speaking to someone on her phone.
“I didn’t know Pearl had a niece,” I said. Funny that she never mentioned it. From what I understood, Pearl didn’t have any family. No children, just an ex-husband from many moons ago.
“We lost touch for a while.”
Cin walked up then and said, “Stacy, I gotta go, if I don’t meet the distributor right now, he said he won’t be back until Monday and I’ll be out of Coors Light.” She greeted Gretchen with, “Hello again.” As if they had met once or twice before.
“Don’t worry about it. I can catch a ride. It’s no big deal.”
She gave me a funny look and I remembered that she didn’t know Tony dropped me off. “Fiona dropped me here,” I lied.
“Oh. Okay. Well, I’ll say a quick hello to Gramps first.”
“He isn’t in his room right now. They’re running tests,” Gretchen said.
“Oh.” Cin frowned. “Well, tell him I love him, Stacy. I’ll see you later.” She rushed down the hall and into an open elevator.
I turned back to Gretchen. “Was the doctor speaking to you about my grandfather?”
She was zipping up her purse, stuffing papers inside. “Oh, no, no. He was just recommending a good chiropractor. I have a terrible ache in my neck and I’m a big believer in holistic medicine.”
I nodded, tempted to send her to the Geraghty Girls. Then again, what had she ever done to me?
“Have you heard anything more about his condition?” I asked.
“Not a word. Probably by this afternoon they’ll know more. I was just about to take off. See if I can get any work done at the diner.”
“Oh?” I asked.
“Paperwork mostly. Help with the schedule, that sort of thing.” She checked her watch. “It was nice meeting you.” She followed the same path Cinnamon took.
There was a mental knocking on my brain as I watched Gretchen rush off, but before I could figure out what it meant, two arms like rump roasts wound around me and swung me into the air.
I kicked my legs out and screamed.
The deep laugh came like waves in my ear and the nerves in my body automatically relaxed, recognizing the tone.
He released me and spun me around. “How ya doing there, Kitten?”
Wildcat may have been an older man, but he could probably kick the ass of any guy half his age. He reminded me of Clint Eastwood in that way. Although he was built more like The Rock.
“Hey, Wildcat. It’s great to see you again.”
“Well, you know I can’t stay away from my old buddy too long.”
I smiled. “Has it been that long?”
“Give or take a decade.” He peered into the room and thumbed a calloused hand that way. “So, is he awake, or what?”
“Actually, he’s getting some tests done.”
Wildcat shook his long hair. “More tests, huh?” He shifted nervously. “Hope he’s okay.”
“He will be.” I patted his biker jacket.
His eyes flicked to the open doorway, a cloud washing the blue away for a brief moment. Then he clapped his hands and said. “How about a Bloody Mary?”
“It’s ten in the morning.”
“Scotch it is.”
Geez, the guy was a grizzly bear. “I think I should wait here for Gramps.”
“You can’t let an old man drink alone. It ain't safe. I’ll bring you back later.” He dragged me to the elevator.
Cinnamon was wiping down the bar of the Black Opal when we roared up on Wildcat’s Harley. I looked like a cashmere sweater set on spin dry for two long when we walked in. She shot me a raised eyebrow and I gave her a ‘don’t ask’ look. She wasn’t even open yet.
We sat near the curve in the bar that faced the doorway and Wildcat ordered shots of Jack Daniels.
“To your old Gramps,” he said.
Thankfully, mine was soda.
Cin went to stock the cooler and I asked Wildcat what brought him to town this time.
“Me and Oscar used to have big dreams you know, back in the Army. I thought maybe it was time to settle down and live out those dreams.”
“Do tell,” I said. This had to be burning Birdie up. Wildcat moving to Amethyst? It was bad enough her ex-husband was still floating around. Wonder why she hadn’t mentioned it?
Wildcat was shaking his head. “Well, it’s like this.” He waved a meaty arm in front of me. “War Games.”
I raised my eyebrow.
“You know, like laser tag, paintball, only we’ll have more of a military element. Combat. That plaza would be the perfect setting.”
Could that be what Roy was mad about? Did Gramps tell him he couldn’t rent the space anymore?
“Course, now, who knows?” Wildcat said.
His eyes were on the bar, but his mind was somewhere else.
Chapter 11
Wildcat didn’t stick around long and Cinnamon received her delivery so we decided to head out for sustenance.
I wondered if I should bring up the subject of Tony. Maybe I could write her a note and slip it under her coffee cup.
“This is on me,” she said. “Why don't you grab a table?"
I ordered a non-fat latte and a banana bran muffin and scooted away from the line.
There was a round table near the front window I was just about to claim when Iris Merriweather pounced on me.
"Well, looky here," she said, wiping the stools with a dry cloth. "When did you blow into town, honey?"
Iris owned the coffee house and she was a close friend to Pearl. She was in her sixties, with frizzy blonde hair better suited for a loofah. She was wearing elastic blue jeans and a white polo shirt with a canvas apron tied around her waist.
"Hey, Iris, thought you would've heard by now." I draped my jacket over the stool.
Iris was the biggest gossip in town, which came in handy since she was the gossip columnist for the local newspaper. She was also the last one to know anything because nobody trusted her and therefore told her squat.
"Well, I've been trying to phone Pearl all morning and she won't pick up over at the Palace. I'm sure she would've told me," Iris said, trying to convince me that
she was well suited for her job. She got no argument from me. And not much else, for that matter.
"I'm sure she would have." Let Pearl tell her that Gramps was sick. I wasn’t in the mood to field questions.
"Wait 'til I tell Shea you're back. He'll be thrilled." She tapped my shoulder with the back of her hand. "We knew you'd get tired of that big city life sooner or later." Iris scrunched up her nose and made a face.
"Oh, I'm just here for a visit."
"Well isn't that a shame," she said. More faces.
Shea Parker published the Amethyst Globe. The paper was founded by my father. Dad handled the news end of things, plus copy and other print work while Parker was the marketing, sales, and distribution arm. It was a small town paper that grew rapidly, eventually taking in several awards, but that changed when Dad died. Parker continued on with the paper but it lost its spark, because when it came to reporting, he was like a blind man driving a car. He could fire up the engine, but it was only a matter of time before he ran it off the road.
Cin walked up then and handed me my coffee. She and Iris exchanged greetings.
"Well, I'll leave you to it." Iris headed off to check on the young girl behind the counter filling orders.
I thanked my cousin for the breakfast and tore into my muffin. I told her about my encounter with Chance and how I was sure Fiona was up to something as well as missing out on visiting Gramps. I left out the message on the mirror and my ride with Tony.
“So are we going to see Gramps after this? I know he wants to see you, he—” she glanced over her shoulder at the clock and stopped mid-sentence. "Like I haven't had a hard enough week," she grumbled.
I spiraled around to see what Cin was looking at and there she was in all her tricked-out glory.
Monique Fontaine.
She had been a thorn in Cin's side most of her life, but she crossed the line when she slept with Tony. Now it was war. Monique wasn't French. Her folks hailed from Michigan, but she wore French perfume, smoked thin cigarettes, and called herself Monique even though her real name was Monica.
I was willing to bet the mutual loathing came from the fact that both my cousin and Monique craved unbridled attention.
Witch Way To Amethyst: The Prequel (A Stacy Justice Mystery Book 0) Page 6
