by Rose Pressey
“Everything always looks better in the morning. I’ll follow you home to make sure you get there safely.”
An escort home hadn’t been needed before I’d come back to town. People could have walked down the street at any time without worrying about crime. Now apparently no one was safe.
If only I could reach Grandma Imelda, she could tell me more about Mr. Wibble. Normally I looked forward to talking with her, but this wouldn’t be a pleasant call. She would be upset when I broke the news about Mr. Wibble.
“Have you tried to call her?” He squeezed my hand.
“I’ve tried her number, but she hasn’t answered. I’ve even emailed several times. When she does get my messages, she’ll freak out. Heck, she’ll probably think I’ve burned the café down.”
“She has more faith in you than that.” He held the door open and we stepped out onto the sidewalk.
I sighed. “The town being gone for good is much worse news. Information like that is something she’ll never be prepared for.”
As we walked out to Rory’s truck and I climbed in, I noticed a bag in the seat. “What’s all this?”
“Well, it was going to be a surprise, but as you can see, I didn’t hide it well. I thought it was about time that you took a break for a while and let someone else do the cooking for a change. I just hope you can handle my cooking.” Rory gestured at the bag full of food.
“You did all that for me?” I asked while fastening my seatbelt.
“You sound surprised.” He turned the engine.
I laughed. “I’m not surprised that you can cook, just that you took the time to do something so sweet for me.”
“You shouldn’t be so surprised. I’m a nice guy.” The corners of his lips turned up, revealing his sexy dimples.
“You’re better than nice.” I smiled as I grabbed one of the bags and peeked inside. “It smells delicious.”
We pulled up in front my cottage and Rory hopped out. My house was a little cottage tucked back from the road with a long gravel driveway leading to the front door. It had been part of another property with a larger home, but they’d split the parcel up and sold it a long time ago. My grandmother had bought the place, and then when I took over the café, she had left me the cottage, too.
I loved the little place. It was kind of like being on vacation every time I came home. And after a long day at work, I needed all the relaxation I could get. The house had a little stone path that led up to the front door with a small covered porch. My favorite part was the window boxes with flowers spilling out over the sides, although when it came time to replace the flowers, I might not enjoy them quite so much. I’d always had a brown thumb.
“I’ll get the food,” he said after helping me down.
“Here, let me carry a bag. We’ll take this into the kitchen.” I grabbed the bag and headed for the front door.
Magic circled the cottage again. It had been an almost nightly occurrence as of late. I’d meant to ask Tom where it could be coming from, but with the chaos, it had slipped my mind.
I brushed off the feeling because I was looking forward to a romantic evening with Rory. He had a way of melting the stress away, taking my mind off the problems of the day.
After we stepped inside, I made my way to the kitchen. “I’ll get the plates while you take the food out and show me what you got.”
“Be prepared to be impressed,” he called from the living room.
“Maybe I should be worried. Do you have any plans to open your own café?” I asked when I returned from the kitchen.
“Not likely.” He chuckled. “I think your career is safe with me.”
“We could have a little picnic in front of the fireplace?”
That sounded even more romantic. The night air had turned unusually chilly, so Rory started a fire, then spread a blanket out in front of the fireplace. My heart beat a little faster when I thought about skipping the dessert and going straight for Rory’s delicious kisses. The urgency in his touch always made my stomach dance. He may be tough on the outside, but he knew how to be gentle at exactly the right moments.
I grabbed the plates and wine glasses and followed him to the blanket that he’d spread out across the floor. I sat on the blanket and watched as he finished up the fire. The light from the fire cast a glow across his gorgeous face. He turned to me and smiled. Rory had brought baked chicken and rice. He was so sweet. He’d even thought to bring dessert, whipped cream with raspberries.
“I love raspberries. You remembered.” I touched his hand.
He beamed. It was the little things that meant the most.
We’d taken a couple of bites of chicken with a loud crash rang out from somewhere at the back of the house. Rory jumped up, rushing across the floor.
“What was that?” I asked, panic setting in. He shook his head.
We’d dimmed the lights in the house, but I was sure someone knew we were inside.
“Maybe it was an animal,” I said.
“I’ll check it out. You stay here. I don’t want you wandering around with a killer possibly out there.” He gestured for me to stay back.
I swallowed hard. “It couldn’t be the killer, could it?”
Had they come to my home to finish me off? Maybe they’d been looking for me all along and Mr. Wibble had just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. I didn’t want Rory to go out into the darkness, possibly into the trap of a killer.
I followed along behind him as he rushed over to the kitchen door. He grabbed a knife from the counter and hurried over to the door. My heart rate increased at the thought of Rory having to use that thing. What if someone used it on him? I couldn’t even handle the thought.
Rory eased the door open and I watched as he stepped out into the darkness.
“Turn off that light and lock yourself in,” he whispered.
I flicked the light and instantly the blackness blanketed the area. Shoving the door closed and locking it, I peered out but couldn’t make out anything. Finally, my eyes adjusted and I spotted Rory moving along the side of the house. I ran to the living room to watch from the front window. It was probably just an animal, I reminded myself. We were overreacting because of the recent murder. I grabbed my cell phone from the end table in case I needed to call for help. I moved along to every room in the house until I couldn’t see Rory any longer. What had happened to him? No other noises sounded from outside. The only thing I heard was the thumping of my pulse in my ears.
I needed to go outside and find him. What if he’d tripped over one of the many holes in my yard? I pushed the thought of a killer out of my mind. No, I wouldn’t think about it. I hurried back to the kitchen and opened the drawer to retrieve another knife when, after what seemed like an eternity, a knock sounded against the door. Please let it be Rory. I peered out and saw his face. Relief washed over me.
“I was worried about you,” I said as I placed my knife on the table.
“I didn’t see anything. But I have to say, it was creepy out there. And I’m not easily creeped out. I’ve camped out a thousand times, but it felt as if someone or something was watching me.”
Rory set the knife down and moved toward me. Suddenly, I’d forgotten about the dinner. All I wanted was to be near Rory. He knew I needed him to hold me without me saying a word.
“The stress has been too much for you,” he said as he reached for my hands and gently pulled me toward him.
Rory moved close and wrapped his strong arms around me. He pulled me close and brought me to the safety of his embrace. His lips were so close I could almost taste them. I blew a long breath and he pressed his mouth onto mine. As his tongue traced my lips, he pressed his warm body against mine. He leaned over and whispered in my ear, “I want to kiss every inch of your body.” His face touched mine, his cheek against mine as he continued to breathe, his sweet breath against my ear, sending shivers down my spine.
In one big swoop, he lifted me into his arms and carried me toward the bed
room. He kicked the door open with his foot, then stepped inside, remembering to step around the rug by the bed. He had learned the hard way that it had a tendency to trip anyone who moved too quickly when passing over it.
He lowered me on top of my down comforter, pressing his body against mine again, and I melted into him. His mouth brushed my ear.
“I can never get enough of you,” he whispered.
I let out a soft moan. Rory’s hands moved softly over my body, until finally he lifted my shirt over my head, then helped me slip out of my pants. He stood next to the bed, peeling over his shirt, revealing tan skin with hard muscles. He lowered back on top of me.
I lifted my hands to his chest, tracing every inch of him. There was no way I could have stopped. My fingers moved with equal parts urgency and gentleness. Rory’s mouth covered mine again. His lips moved with ease and my body turned to jelly. His earthy scent consumed my senses and I wanted him in every way. Rory’s fingers caressed every curve of my body. As his hands moved, his kiss deepened. He groaned as his tongue mingled with mine. Heat radiated from our bodies as we twisted beneath the sheets. My desire for him seemed unquenchable as I wrapped my legs around his waist.
After an unbelievable night with Rory, I had forgotten for a brief time about the chaos in Mystic Hollow. We had drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms, but I woke with the same magic sensation that had been circling my house earlier in the evening. It was becoming more intense. Rory lay sleeping next to me, and I eased back next to him forcing the worry from my mind until I finally drifted off again.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The next morning when I arrived at Mystic Café, there was a note from Sydney Whitman waiting for me. She’d taped a bright yellow piece of paper to the door stating that she needed to see me right away. My guess was she’d found out about Tom and me snooping around town. Hey, the way I saw it was if you wanted something done right, then you had to do it yourself. And I needed this case solved right away.
After a short time of wondering around the café alone, Mary Jane bounced through the door. She did seem slightly more cheery than the rest of Mystic Hollow. Maybe that had something to do with Sheriff Jasper.
“How did it go last night after the meeting?” she asked, placing her purse on the counter.
“Something strange is going on, as we already know, but I sure can’t figure out where it’s coming from.”
“Do you think Tom had anything to do with this?” Mary Jane asked.
I frowned. “What do you think?”
She met my gaze and shook her head. “No, not really, but I had to ask.”
I absentmindedly rearranged the sugar packets on the counter. “I suppose the Organization has to look at all the possibilities, and he’s definitely a possibility… at least in their eyes. We know that I had nothing to do with it, but I guess the police will investigate me, too.”
“We all know you didn’t do it, but we don’t know that one hundred percent without a doubt about Tom.”
Technically, we were all suspects, but I didn’t mention that to Mary Jane. No need to worry her even more. She’d figure it out on her own soon enough.
“I’ve been trying to figure out who would want to harm Mr. Wibble, and Mystic Hollow for that matter, and I can’t think of anyone. Everyone in town liked his grumpy demeanor, at least I think they did. I don’t think he had any bad dealings with anyone in town.” I straightened the menus for the six time in the past two minutes. “He used to have to visit my grandmother some, early on of course, then his last visit to me. Other than that, I don’t know of anyone who’s messed up magic here in Mystic Hollow.”
“Until Tom came back to town.” She looked at me with a frown.
I blew a shallow breath through my teeth, then said, “I know it’s really suspicious that he came back just when this happened, but I can’t think that Tom would ever do anything like that. It’s not his character.”
“We don’t know him that well.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest.
“Apparently you thought you knew him well enough to ask him to work for us,” I said.
She looked down at her shoes. “In hindsight, maybe I should have asked you first.”
“Oh, who am I kidding? If you hadn’t asked him, I would have.”
She grinned. “You would have.”
I laughed. “Yeah… I would.”
“So, if it wasn’t Tom then who?” Mary Jane grabbed a glass and poured water from the pitcher.
“That’s what I intend to find out. As angry as I am with Sydney for wanting to shut down Mystic Hollow, the poor woman has been thrust into this mess and now her boss has been murdered. Technically, I guess she’s just doing her job. It’s the Organization’s fault, not hers.”
“Do you think they’ll send someone to help her now that Mr. Wibble’s gone?” Mary Jane handed me the glass of water.
I shrugged my shoulders and took the glass. “I would think so, but I doubt I’ll ever understand how this Organization works. They like to remain mysterious.”
“So other than her wanting to shut the place down, do you like this new investigator? She seems distant and a little icy.”
I took a gulp of water. “I don’t know. I understand that she feels very awkward with having to investigate her boss. She’s only been on the job for a few months. Now she’s in charge. Not only is she involved in the magic gone wrong, but she is right in the middle of this murder investigation.”
“The note says she wants to see you. Maybe we should go visit her? See how she’s doing. It’s not like we have any customers here.” She gestured with a wave her hand around the empty café. “We could take her a piece of pie or cake? It would be a peace offering of sorts. You never know, maybe she wouldn’t shut down the whole town.”
“You think I can win her over with a piece of pie? It’s good, but it’s not that good.” I shrugged and took another drink. “As long as she doesn’t think I’m trying to bribe her with baked goods, then that doesn’t sound like a bad idea.”
“Maybe she has some new leads on who cast the magic spell. Maybe the Organization has changed their mind about closing Mystic Hollow.”
“That’s a lot of maybes. I’m one of her suspects, but she can’t really think I’d do something to hurt Mystic Hollow, can she?”
“There’s one way to get to the bottom of all of this.” Mary Jane pointed at the dessert display case.
“We’ll lock up the café and drive over right now. I just need to get a couple things from the back.”
“I’ll wrap up a piece of your red velvet cake while you do that.”
“Make sure to get a slice of the one without the spell. Without the spell,” I repeated slowly.
She gave a short salute. “Yes, ma’am.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
After a short drive, we pulled up to the hotel. This was the only decent hotel in town. Luckily, the owner had put Tom at one end and had given Sydney a room at the other end. It would be awkward for them to run into each other all the time. The building looked like it hadn’t changed since the 1950s. All that was missing was poodle skirts and a hot rod parked in front.
“Have you talked to Sydney since Mr. Wibble was murdered?” Mary Jane asked as she unfastened her seatbelt.
“No. I guess she’s needed time to compose herself. Who knows, maybe the killer is looking for her, too.” I stared at the building with my hands still clutched around the steering wheel.
“I bet there’s been chaos at the Organization since this happened,” Mary Jane said.
“I imagine so, yeah. Anyway, like I said, I bet Sydney feels really weird for having to investigate her ex-boss. I know I would.”
“What’s her next step, do you know? Has she said anything? Given you any idea of what might happen next? Other than having to shut the whole town down?” Mary Jane asked.
“No idea.” I shook my head as I hopped out from behind the wheel, threw my purse over my shoulder, then gr
abbed the bag with the red velvet cake. “The more I think about it, the more I think she’ll be convinced this is bribery. Can they arrest me for that?”
Mary Jane furrowed her brow in thought. “I don’t think so, but what do I know? I don’t know this magic business.”
We made our way across the parking lot to room number fourteen. Only a few cars dotted the lot. “You know, I think this is the exact room that Tom stayed in when he was here before.”
Mary Jane’s mouth fell open. “What?” she asked sharply. “You didn’t tell me you were in his room. What the heck is going on? I thought I was your best friend. You certainly don’t have to tell me everything, but I think there’s an unwritten rule somewhere that you have to tell me when you’re in a good-looking man’s hotel room. It’s best friend code or something. I’m hurt.” She folded her arms in front of her chest.
“Calm down. Nothing happened. I went to ask him to quit playing games and really help me reverse the spell on Rory. He said he was doing all that he could and I left. End of story.” I knocked on the door again, wishing that Sydney would answer before Mary Jane threw a hissy fit right there in the parking lot.
“There’s a whole lot in between that I think you’re leaving out,” she huffed.
Finally, the sound of movement came from the other side of the door.
“Who is it?” Sydney called. Anxiety sounded in her voice.
I’d be nervous about answering the door too with a killer wandering around. What if the killer wanted Sydney as his next victim? Someone could have a vendetta against the Organization. The lock rattled and Sydney inched the door open, revealing a sliver of her face.
“Sydney, how are you?” I asked.
Her hair was frazzled as if she’d just woken. We were probably responsible for ruining her nap.
“I, um, brought you some of my red velvet cake.” I thrust the cake toward her.
A sly smile slid across her face. “Bribery. I like it.” She slid the chain from the lock and opened the door, but didn’t invite us in. “Thank you.” She reached out and took the cake from my hand.
