by K. M. Waller
Jeez, thanks for the vote of confidence, Mom.
Dad tossed me the tiniest of bags. “You’ll have one dose of enchantment dust. You can use it however necessary or to return to the portal before the time allotted. I imagine you’ll use it before the hour is up, but if you don’t, know that you’ll only have five days to clean up your mess before Amaranth will be sent to retrieve you. As the sole heir to the fairy godparent kingdom, your duty will be to return in five days’ time and take your place in the throne room without hesitation. No more pining away at the fountain or having Iris sneak you books.”
Seems Dad knew more about my interest in the human world than I gave him credit for. I crossed my arms. “I accept.”
“Done,” Dad said with his shoulders squared and jaw set firm.
Amaranth huffed out a held breath, but as a good soldier, he didn’t argue with his king. I appeared to be the only one crazy enough to do that.
Dad expected me to change my mind or wilt or beg him not to leave. I’d show them all I was meant for more than sitting pretty on a throne.
“See you in five days.” I turned my back to them and held my breath until my chest burned. The pent up breath came out in a whoosh. I can do this.
Chapter Five
My feet crunched the leaves and other foliage scattered across the ground. Ouch. Was that a stinging nettle? Prickles much like sharp stings blasted the length of the bottom of my right foot. Dratted weeds. I straightened my spine and kept my chin high. I wouldn’t let Mom or Dad see me hopping on one foot and grunting in pain.
“Juniper.” My mother called to me, but I didn’t turn around. She poofed in front of me and pulled me into a quick hug. “Take this,” she said, and slipped a small piece of rectangular paper into my hand. Her eyes silently pleaded with me as if to say stay safe before she tapped her head with her wand and simply said, “Home.”
I turned to find my father and Amaranth no longer behind me. At least now I could scratch at my foot without total embarrassment. After a few scratches that didn’t ease the stinging, I lifted the card into the moonlight to read the embossed writing. It had the name and address of a flower shop—Fairyland Flowers, the loveliest flowers in Lilac Cove. How could a flower shop help?
The asphalt of the road saw a welcome relief to my bare feet. I needed shoes, and soon. I glanced down at the sparkly dress I’d borrowed from Iris. Dad could have at least put me back in the human bedtime clothes. The lights from the police cars reflected off of the silver sequins. Pip had left my shoulder and now hung on to the fabric near my rear end. Fitting in would be difficult.
The cluster of people had thinned to less than ten onlookers, and an ambulance started a slow descent down the street. I knew enough to know that it contained John Bleaker’s body. Why would anyone want to hurt a man who didn’t have much of social life, according to his pet?
In my world, the fairies often squabbled over their land boundaries and who received the most prestigious fairy errands, but never in all my years had one killed another. Humans seem to do it all the time over the simplest of quarrels.
“I wish you still had the ability to speak,” I turned my head and addressed Pip.
“Ma’am, are you okay?” A gruff man with a jagged scar across his cheek approached me. He glanced from my bare feet to the squirrel to my barely-hanging-on wig. “Do you need a hospital?”
“No, I’m fine.” I took a deep steadying breath. “What I need is to speak to one of those police officers about John Bleaker’s death.”
“You know what happened?” he asked and moved closer to me. His unkempt hair fell over his forehead with a jerk of his head.
I took a tentative half-step backward. “Not exactly, but I think I have some information that could be very useful.”
He cupped my arm above my elbow. “Listen, those police officers are very busy with other witnesses and securing the scene. Why don’t you come with me?”
His question came out on a low grumble and my instincts told me he meant it in a way that I wouldn’t be able to refuse. I jerked my arm twice to pull away, but his fingers tightened into my flesh.
“Let go,” I said. Five minutes on my own and I was already being man-handled by a creep.
He yanked me close to his side. “My car’s right over here. I’ll take you where you need to go.”
Panic shot through my body, mirroring the sting the nettles had caused. This man wasn’t listening to me. “Please, let go.”
The whimper in my voice must have alerted Pip and he leapt from my back thigh onto the scarred man’s arm, biting him on his hand.
“What the heck!” The man swung his arm hard and flipped Pip into the air toward a police officer getting into the driver’s side of his vehicle. The squirrel landed on all fours but didn’t move.
I rushed to Pip and scooped him up in my arms. “My little hero. Are you hurt?”
“What’s going on?” the police officer asked. A name tag on his shirt identified him as Officer Foster.
“That man,” I pointed behind me.
“What man?” The officer asked, reaching out a hand to pull me to my feet.
I swiveled my head in every direction, but the creep had already hidden himself among the shadows. “He’s gone.”
Pip clung to the front of my dress while Officer Foster gave me the same once over as the guy with the scar. He started at my bare feet, then the squirrel, and finally his gaze landed and stayed on the wig. “Do you live around here, ma’am?”
I pulled at the wig until the pins freed it from my head. My real hair fell in a heap around my shoulders. “No.”
His mouth pinched into a frown. “Can I escort you home?”
“I need to speak to someone in charge.”
“In charge of what, exactly?” he asked.
“The murder. I can help you solve it.”
Officer Foster cocked his head to the side much the same as Pip had done before we’d been able to communicate for the first time. “Did you witness what happened here tonight?”
If I had only stayed instead of poofing back home in a panic. My shoulders dropped with the heaviness of letting John down. “No.”
“Did you by chance commit the crime that occurred here tonight?”
“I most certainly did not.” I couldn’t keep the indignation out of my voice.
“Then what information do you have?”
“I have Pip,” I nodded at my chest, “and I’ve been inside the house before.” I gestured toward John’s house. “I know things.” I tapped the side of my head like Iris had done earlier.
“What’s that in your hand?” Officer Foster pointed to the card my mother had given me.
I turned it around to face him. “It’s for a place called Fairyland Flowers.”
Officer Foster’s eyebrows rose and he nodded as if what I’d said finally put the pieces of a puzzle together. He waved his hand in a motion that captured me from head to toe. “Now, all of this makes sense. I thought her little get-together wasn’t until next month. She always draws in all the weirdos.”
“Excuse me?”
He opened the rear passenger door of the patrol car. “Get in. I’ll give you a ride down to the station and we’ll call Mrs. M for you.”
I didn’t know a Mrs. M or what he meant by little get-together but I did need a ride to their headquarters. Someone in charge would take me more seriously, if I could figure out how to share my information without giving away the fact that I was a fairy godparent.
Once inside the car, Pip nestled into my lap and closed his eyes. I could only imagine his exhaustion. He’d lost his owner and had protected a fairy all in one day. When my five days were up, I’d make sure he had a safe and happy home to return to. It’d be the least I could do for him.
The ride to the police station didn’t take long and only after we arrived did I realize I’d had my first ever ride in a car. Not as fun as I’d thought car rides would be.
Officer Foster parked in fro
nt of a one-story red brick building. For it to be the middle of the night, the place was a bustle of activity. An older man and a younger woman walked in while Officer Foster let me out of the back seat. I followed him through the glass double doors and into a main waiting area. Three plastic chairs lined the wall.
He pointed to the one by a bulletin board with various posters tacked to it. One had a bright yellow headline that said Five Most Wanted. Pictures of five men who appeared to have done some nefarious deeds were lined up side-by-side.
I sat in the chair and waited. A man with close-clipped blonde hair spoke to the woman from the other side of the counter. He held an air of authority that made me think he was in charge. “Tell the mayor she should get her updates directly from Chief Rayburn, Brianna.”
The blonde woman flicked her hair over her shoulder and leaned her elbows on the counter. I’d seen Iris do this when she wanted something from a male fairy. A flirting technique, she’d called it.
The woman he’d called Brianna pursed her lips and tapped long fingernails on the counter. “Mayor Caldwell and I have been working in the late hours of the evening and into early morning on the details for the May Day Festival. She’s so upset, she had to go home and take a sleep aid.”
Officer Foster sidled up next to the woman. “Tell the mayor I’m happy to keep her apprised of the situation.”
“Thank you so much, Officer Quick.” The woman poked him with a finger and waltzed out of the police station.
“They can wait for the chief,” the man behind the counter said again. His gaze flickered in my direction. “Who is that?”
Officer Foster straightened. “Found her at the crime scene trying to get attention. Someone needs to call Mrs. M to pick her up.”
“Did you transport her without calling it in?” the other man asked.
“Relax, Callan. This isn’t Atlanta.” Foster cut his eyes at me before rolling them at the other man. “She’s crazy, but all she’s armed with is that squirrel.”
The man squinted at me, taking in my appearance and the squirrel still asleep in my lap. “Wild animals aren’t allowed in here.”
I lifted my chin a notch. “Pip is a witness. Not a wild animal.”
Officer Foster burst into a round of laughter. “See what I mean? Crazy.” He disappeared behind the counter and sauntered to the back and out of sight.
So the man, Callan, not wearing a uniform or nametag wasn’t in charge. He shook his head and lifted a finger for the older man waiting patiently to the side. When Callan disappeared from sight, the man sat down in a chair next to me.
He wore a three-piece suit and gray hair peeked out from his fedora-style hat. Perspiration settled around his forehead. Because of the fountain’s ability to show us the human world, I knew that his style was both formal and outdated. He pointed to my lap. “That’s a nice-looking squirrel you have there. Did you say his name was Pip?”
“Yes.” I stroked Pip’s back. “His owner called him Mr. Squeakers, but he prefers Pip.”
The man removed his hat and placed it in his lap. “I had a pet skunk when I was a kid. Best little critter a farm boy could ask for.” The man’s voice was soft and his accent a light southern drawl.
“That’s a nice story,” I said. Pip rolled over onto his back and used his hind leg to scratch under his chin. We chuckled at the cuteness. “What are you doing at the police station so late?”
“I’m in Lilac Cove for a bit of pier fishing. The police chief has the keys to my Airbnb.”
Before I could ask what an Airbnb was Callan came from behind the counter. “Sorry the chief couldn’t be here to welcome you himself, but we seem to have a lot going on in our little town tonight. Here are the keys. Enjoy the cabin.”
The older man placed his hat on his head and took the keys. He stood and smiled down at me. “Nice to meet you, Miss…?”
“Juniper. And you are?”
“You can call me Vinnie.”
With that, he exited, and I was left as the sole focus of Callan. He wore a wrinkled button up shirt over a pair of dark jeans. His eyes were a soft blue color set against a deep tan, but the distrust in them made his gaze harsh, which matched his stern frown. “Do you have a last name, Juniper?”
“No.”
He pressed his lips together and studied my face. “You don’t have a last name, or you’re not going to tell me?”
The doors swung open and a teenaged girl rushed into the lobby. “Ms. Emory woke me and gave me the news. Lilac Cove’s very first murder! Did you get to see the body, Uncle Callan?”
Callan paled at the sight of her. He glanced at his watch and back at her. “It is two a.m., Olivia. You should be in bed. How did you get here?”
She shrugged off a backpack and set it on the floor. “I rode my bike.”
He pointed to the chair beside me, his finger shaking. “Sit. Now.”
Olivia slumped into the chair and poked her lips into a full pout. “I never get to be a part of anything cool.”
“Story of my life,” I said before I could stop the words from escaping.
She glanced at me and her gaze settled on Pip. Her expression changed from sullen to excitement within a millisecond. “Is that a real squirrel?”
“It is. His name is Pip.”
She reached over and gave him a scratch on his furry belly. “Is he the reason you’ve been arrested?”
“I haven’t been arrested.” At least I didn’t think that’s what had happened. “I’m trying to help solve a crime, but Officer Foster won’t listen to me.”
Olivia nodded, giving me a once over. “It’s hard to take you seriously dressed you are. Plus, you aren’t wearing any shoes.”
Shoes. No wonder everyone stared at my feet. How had I missed that that one clothing item gave a person leverage in the human world?
“How do I get shoes?” I asked. “A pair that will make everyone take me seriously.”
She stood and shouted over the counter. “Hey, Uncle Callan? Can I show this lady to the lost and found? She needs shoes.”
He leaned over the counter, and from his pensive expression, I could see him assessing if I was a danger to his niece. I didn’t blame him. In fact, it made him all the more attractive as a human male.
“It’s fine,” he said gesturing to a hallway. “But don’t close the door behind you.”
I cradled Pip and followed Olivia down the hallway. We came to a door labeled Janitorial. “My name’s Juniper, by the way.”
Olivia opened the door and flipped the light switch. “Nice to meet you, Juniper. Olivia.”
“Lovely name. How old are you?” We walked into a small square room with a deep sink on the wall near the far corner. Mops and well-worn brooms had been propped against another corner.
The girl pushed her glasses up her nose and smiled. “Turned fourteen last month.” She pushed aside more cleaning supplies and pulled forward a large plastic container. She gasped and threw her body over the top of the container, grabbing something on the other side. “I thought I’d lost you.”
“What did you find?” I asked.
“My collection of Sherlock Holmes. He’s only the greatest detective ever.” She hugged the book to her chest. Then she pushed the lid off of the container and revealed a various assortment of clothing.
“I haven’t read that one.” I dug through the shirts and pants, coming up with a flannel shirt, workman coveralls, and a pair of boots. “How did someone lose all these clothes?”
“My uncle says it’s best not to ask those questions.” She settled on another box nearby. “He used to be a detective in Atlanta. Now he works dispatch. That’s why I have to stay the nights with Ms. Emory. But I don’t need a babysitter.”
Pip awoke from his nap and I set him down on a cardboard box with “Christmas Decorations” written on the side. He stared at Olivia with either curiousness or a tinge of fear. I couldn’t be certain which, but he didn’t run and hide.
I shrugged into the lo
ng-sleeved shirt and pulled the coveralls over my dress. They would have to do for now. Iris was more the fashion maven when it came to keeping up with the human and fairy world of clothes and trends. I usually wore whatever was set out for me by my mother.
The boots were large and my feet slid around in them. “I don’t think these are the right size.”
Olivia took in my appearance and wrestled to keep a smile off of her face. “You do look less ridiculous than before.”
That was something.
I trudged behind her back to the front area and once again the man she’d called Uncle Callan was occupied with a visitor. This one was a woman who had kinky gray curls that hung down her back almost to her waist. She wore a bright purple top with bold green pants. Her shoes were white canvas with pictures of butterflies.
Callan pointed to me. “That’s her.”
The woman turned and when our eyes met, my breath caught in my throat. My pulse picked up to an abnormally quick pace. I stumbled toward her but any reservations I had about her identity lifted as she smiled. I’d only ever seen a portrait, but I’d studied it long and hard, always wondering about her.
I found my voice as I reached out to her. “Aunt Mossandra?”
Chapter Six
Olivia danced around us in a circle. “Mrs. M is your aunt? How lucky are you! She’s the coolest. Everyone loves her.”
Callan came around the counter and pulled his precocious niece to the side. “Come on. Let’s see if Officer Foster can give you a ride back to Emory’s house. I’m sure she’s worried sick, if she’s even noticed you’ve escaped again.”
Aunt Mossandra’s smile dropped as the tiniest bit of sadness worked its way into her eyes. She reached out and pulled both of my hands into hers. “If you’re here like this, then that means your father is throwing his weight around again.”
I glanced at Olivia and Callan, who tried to look as if they weren’t listening to every word we spoke. It didn’t matter how well my aunt fit in or if she’d even told humans about her true nature, I wouldn’t betray my kind. “Let’s just say Dad is a little upset with me. It’ll pass.”
