Cornbread & Crossroads

by Bella Falls

  My darling Charli, you’re number one

  Don’t stop the search until you’ve won

  You’ll charm the hurt and harm away

  Those out to cheat, you’ll keep at bay

  I leave to you a stolen key

  To ensure your future remains free

  And in the end, you will succeed

  And justify my every deed

  I’ve always believed in who you are

  You’re like your mother, a shooting star

  You’re a rare find, a precious gem

  More valuable than all of them

  Forgive an old man and his tricks

  And how he gets his little kicks

  He knows that you will see this through

  Because he’s always believed in you

  It took me reading the verses out loud three times for my annoyance to bloom into anger. “What in the world does all of this mean? And why would he be so cryptic?”

  My two companions in the room stayed silent, puzzled by my uncle’s motives. Ben asked to hold the parchment and check it over while Dash peered over his shoulder, his mouth moving while he read through the words.

  “Honestly, I think Tipper knew that only you would find it,” Mason said through the compact. “And maybe he wrote it in verse because that’s how you spellcast.”

  “That’s cute and all, but it doesn’t tell us what to do with this.” Bending down, I picked up the small key. “Or what it goes to? I mean, if he stole it, then whatever it opens might not even be here.”

  Ben held up a finger. “Or, there could be two meanings to the word key. Yes, it could refer to the item itself. But the term stolen key makes me think that Lady Eveline was right. That Tipper stole something that could be the key to something else.”

  “There’s a lot of vague guessing going on.” I rubbed the bridge of my nose. “Probably the best thing for me to do would be to see if I can connect the key to what it opens.”

  Unsure if my magic would work while holding the key and the compact, I handed the tiny mirror to Ben. Curling my fingers around the metal item, I attempted to spellcast one more time.

  “Ol’ Tipper was a crafty man, so help me better understand. Find the object where ‘ere it be and open it with this key. With his permission, he cannot hide the many secrets from inside.”

  The golden thread stretched out from me and zoomed past the two men. No longer struggling to maintain it, I shooed everyone out of the bathroom and followed its path downstairs and through the informal living room. The strong connection tugged at me through a closed wooden door. Behind it lay Tipper’s private study.

  Out of all the rooms in the house, the study had been the one place I didn’t feel comfortable in. Not because it housed anything disturbing, but because it felt like an extension of Tipper himself—a little chaotic, a whole lot discombobulated, and meaningful to only him.

  With my free hand, I raised it in front of the lock. “Open says me.” Tipper and I used to giggle at his joke when he let me in when I would visit as a child.

  Two walls contained built-in bookshelves, unusual for an old farmhouse. Cabinets lined the bottom half underneath the stacks of unorganized tomes and scrolls. In the middle of the room sat the behemoth of a desk with a rolling chair pushed up underneath it. My great-uncle used to let me play in the cavern underneath the massive desk while he shuffled through papers and spoke to himself.

  Juniper’s cleaning team had bundled a lot of stray papers together and stacked them up against the far wall. It could take years to go through everything. I’d thought it better to lock it all away and ignore it.

  “I can’t see anything,” Mason’s voice rang out from the small mirror.

  Dash flipped on the light switch. “Whoa, that’s a lot.”

  The thread of connection glowed between me and the painting hanging on the wall behind the desk. Tipper had commissioned an artist to capture the Founders’ Tree in all her glory. It struck me as odd when I was a little girl that the painting didn’t hold a place of honor over one of the mantles where others could see it.

  A specific memory popped up, and I heard Tipper speaking to me. “Remember, Charli Bird, no matter how bad things get, the tree will always be there for you. Come and seek it out when you need help.”

  “I think that painting is significant,” I said to the others. “Whatever we’re looking for, it has something to do with it.”

  “Or maybe the tree itself?” Ben questioned, handing the compact back to me.

  Mason frowned. “Maybe check to see if there’s something behind it.”

  Dash placed a hand on my arm and nudged me out of his way. “I’m on it.”

  He rolled the chair from under the desk and pressed it against the back wall. Being careful not to tip it over, the shifter stepped up on it, holding his arms out to the side to keep his balance. Dash took the painting off its hook and turned it over.

  “Nothing significant on the back.” He passed the artwork off to Ben who examined it for a second time.

  I pointed at the wall. “No, but I’m pretty sure there’s a safe there.”

  Dash inspected the spot I indicated. “I don’t see anything, and I’ve got shifter eyesight.”

  “It’s there,” I reassured him. “Here, switch places with me.” Setting the compact down on the desk and aiming it as best I could in the right direction, I waited for Dash to jump down from the chair before climbing up on it. It tipped under my weight, and I lost my balance.

  “Whoa there,” Dash called out, placing two hands on my behind to keep me from falling.

  “Watch yourself,” Mason yelled out.

  Unwilling to find out if he was speaking to me or Dash, I gripped the key in my left hand and waved my right over the surface of the wall. Slight tingles crawled over my skin as I detected the spell.

  “I think all of us underestimated Uncle Tipper,” I exhaled in awe. “If his magic is still active even all this time after his death, then his spellcasting abilities were stronger than anyone’s in town.”

  I passed my fingertips over the surface until I felt a hole. “There. Gotcha.” Switching the key into my right hand, I palpated for the spot. “Here goes.”

  It took a couple of tries for the key to fit, but as soon as I pushed it into place, the spell broke.

  “Oh, you mean that safe,” Dash teased.

  With great care, I turned the key until it clicked and the door popped open a little bit. Finding the edge with my fingers, I pulled on it. The hinges creaked as I got my first look inside.

  “There’s a bunch of stuff in here.” I pulled out a few scrolls and handed them to Ben. “See if these are anything important.”

  When I turned to pull out more from the safe, I jerked my body a little too far to the left and the chair wobbled underneath me. “Frosted fairy—”

  “I gotcha.” Dash rushed to my aid and caught me in his strong arms, holding me up as if I weighed nothing. The shifter eased me onto the floor after Mason cleared his throat. “Let me empty the contents.”

  It took us a few minutes to spread out whatever my great-uncle had hidden inside. I picked up the tiny mirror and held it up for Mason to see it all.

  Ben unfurled a scroll and shouted, “I think this is what we’re looking for.” He pushed books and papers out of the way on the desk and grabbed a couple of books to place on the curled edges to hold them down.

  Dash leaned over and took a big whiff. “Smells old.”

  Ben’s fingers flew over the handwriting. “It’ll take me a while to transcribe all the words, but if you look at the bottom, you can see the three signatures of the founders.”

  The rest of the scribbles looked like gibberish, but I took special notice of the names. “That one must be Norberta Walker. And there’s the P for Prentice Goodwin. That leaves the first Hollis Hawthorne as the last one. And of course, he signed it larger than the other two.”

  Dash pointed at the other things we’d unloaded. “What do you wa
nt me to do with all of this?”

  No doubt Tipper had his reasons for saving all the other things, but it felt a little like taking advantage of the situation. “Technically, I guess it all belongs to me, but at this point, we’ve found what we need. Right, Ben?”

  It took three more attempts at goading my advocate friend for him to acknowledge me. “Hmm, what? Oh, I think this has everything in it to clarify the rules of the council. I just need a little time.” He glanced at his watch. “Would you mind if I took this home with me? I’ve got some things there to help me examine old manuscripts.”

  I chuckled at my friend and his love for history. “Of course you do. As long as you don’t share it with anyone else, then I see no problem with you taking it.”

  Dash gathered up the other items and placed them back into the safe. “Hmm,” he uttered, pausing to stare at one particular piece.

  “Did you find something else?” I asked, moving to get a closer look.

  His body jerked as if he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, but he placed whatever caught his attention in with the other stuff. “No. It’s nothing.”

  I handed him the key so he could lock the safe. “Do you think I should hide it again with a spell?” Nothing I could conjure would match the strength of Tipper’s magic. That would require a much stronger witch, and the only one I knew who possessed that kind of power lay asleep in her bed and out of commission.

  Dash placed the painting back on the wall, adjusting it left and right until I deemed it straight. “Since no one else knew it was there, I think it’ll be fine for now. I’ll take Ben out and make sure he gets home safe. We’ll leave you two to talk.”

  Dash and Ben left in short order, and I heard the front door close with a light bang, leaving me alone to talk to Mason.

  “Well, tonight was eventful,” I admitted, closing the door to Tipper’s study. With a little magic, I spellcast the lock into place for good measure.

  “I saw that.” Mason raised an eyebrow. “Want to catch me up?”

  It took a good half an hour to get in all the details from the last day, including my rising suspicions and the meeting. I yawned as I concluded the recap, relaxing on my bed.

  “Well, there’s one thing I can say after hearing all that,” Mason said.

  I turned on my side, holding the compact close to me while I tried to read his expression. “What’s that?”

  “I think it’s time I head home.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Detective, I don’t think your superiors understand how things work down here.” Big Willie held Nana’s silver mirror in his hairy hand, fussing at Mason. “You belong to my department now, and if I say I need you back here, then you come back.”

  The distant voice of Detective Clarkson rang through the other side. “We are on the cusp of catching our man, Sheriff, and I don’t think—”

  “That’s the problem with you city boys. You don’t use the brains that were given to you.” Willie raised the mirror like he wanted to smash it into smithereens.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. No one needs seven years of bad luck with everything that’s going on,” I cautioned.

  The Sasquatch sighed, counted to ten, and lifted the reflective surface back into place. Mason’s frustrated scowl made me want to reach through to the other side and pull him back with me.

  “My decision’s been made,” Big Willie insisted. “I want Detective Clairmont off the case there and on his way back to Honeysuckle faster than a hot knife through butter.”

  Detective Clarkson pushed my boyfriend out of the way, shoving his way into view. “Listen, we are so close to catching the animal, Sheriff. If you’ll let us keep Mason for a few more days, then I’m sure we’ll take down that wolf. If I had my way, we’d get rid of all of their kind.”

  I jerked at the deep growl reverberating behind me. “All wolves? Or just the ones you can’t manage?” Dash challenged, moving in behind the sheriff so he could be seen.

  Clarkson smirked. “Nice company you keep, Sheriff. I wouldn’t trust a werewolf as far as I could shoot a silver bullet in him.”

  “That’s enough, Jack. And for your information, Mr. Channing is a wolf shifter. It would do you well to learn the difference,” Mason corrected.

  My heart was torn between pride in my boyfriend for how far he’d come since the first time he’d met Dash and worry for his situation. I didn’t want him to lose the respect of someone he’d admired enough to take his advice to become a detective. At the same time, I needed him to return home and help me figure out how to fix things back to normal.

  “Whatever you say, Clairmont. If you love wolves so much, maybe you should return home.” Mason’s colleague did nothing to hide his contempt.

  “And maybe I should call some of the pack leaders in your area and create an even bigger wolf problem than you’re dealing with now,” Dash warned, his eyes flashing golden yellow. “Or I could contact them and see if they could help you flush out the werewolf you’re looking for.”

  Clarkson’s scowl morphed into surprise. “Well, I don’t know if that’s necessary. Our team has been making great progress…”

  “Frosted fairy wings, Jack. Take the man up on his offer,” Mason insisted. The image from the other side knocked back and forth as he wrestled to regain control of the mirror. “Now, give me some privacy to talk to my friends.”

  After the other detective left in a huff, Mason ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know what happened to him. He used to be a stand-up guy, but I think his obsession with this case has changed him over time.”

  “Do you want me to contact the packs up there? I can’t promise it would do any good, though,” Dash admitted. “I just wanted to give your friend a hard time.”

  “He deserved it.” Mason nodded at the wolf shifter. “But yeah, if you can find a way, I can stay here to help facilitate their help with the wardens.”

  Big Willie cursed under his breath. “How much longer would you need to be there?”

  “Only long enough to make sure that the right people are working together,” the detective said. “We don’t want someone like Jack trying to order shifters around. No good could come of that. So, the quicker you make your calls, Dash, the sooner I can return.”

  “I’m on it,” the wolf shifter grunted, waving at the mirror.

  “You have Charli get in touch with me if your colleague gives you any more guff,” Big Willie insisted. “Y’all ain’t the only ones with connections up there. I might have to flex my own friendships and teach him a lesson.”

  The sheriff handed me the mirror, wishing me luck with Nana and giving me a little privacy to end the call.

  “I wish you were already here,” I whined. “Maybe things would have gone faster if I’d stayed.”

  Mason shook his head. “It would have been too dangerous. Some wardens have already been hurt, and yet Jack keeps pushing. If he’s not careful, he’ll find himself the only one left.” He breathed out a long breath. “Tell Dash I appreciate any help he can give. I’ll see you soon.”

  “I love you, Mason.” My throat tightened with the threat of tears.

  He kissed his two fingers and pressed them against the reflective surface. “Love you, too.” With a wave, his face disappeared from view.

  Needing a quick moment to recharge before going back upstairs to Nana’s bedroom, I stepped outside onto the porch and found Dash pacing in frustration.

  “Did what the other detective’s prejudice bother you?” I asked.

  He scoffed. “I’ve heard much worse.” Dash did his best to hide his emotions, but the slight inhuman gleam in his eyes gave him away.

  “I don’t know why you stopped by my grandmother’s house today, but I’m really glad you did,” I said, trying to calm him down.

  The wolf shifter sighed. “I wanted to see if you’d heard anything from Ben. If what we’d found was worth anything. And I came by here because you weren’t at home and this w
as the most likely place you’d be.”

  Of course Dash would want to know about the town covenant. He’d been integral in helping to retrieve it in the first place.

  “Ben woke me up this morning,” I started.

  Dash’s eyebrows raised. “He did, did he?”

  I hit his arm. “Not like that. He was just so excited, and I’d been so knocked out after my magical efforts that I didn’t hear him knocking on my door. Anyway, he said that from his first cursory inspection, any change in town council positions forces a vote by all citizens. So, it looks like we might have found a very nice counterclaim to anything my aunt tries to pull.”

  “Which means your Uncle Tipper was shrewder than people gave him credit for.” Dash tapped the side of his head and winked.

  I chuckled. “He had his moments. So, what’s the plan? How are you going to contact the pack leaders up North?”

  The shifter pointed at his motorcycle parked nearby. In all my worry for Mason, I’d never heard him approach on his noisy vehicle.

  “Lee says we can still use our phones outside of Honeysuckle. I’ll drive out and see how far I need to get away before I can make a call. That will also give him some useful data,” Dash explained.

  I leaned against the doorframe. “You’re such a good guy.”

  “Don’t say that,” he growled, bounding down the stairs and trudging toward his bike.

  “Why not?” I asked, confused at his vehement response.

  He stopped in his tracks and said in a low voice, “Because there’s a part of me that doesn’t want to hurry.” Turning his head to the side so I could hear him, he pointed to his ear. “Shifter hearing.”

  It took a second for his meaning to sink in. Not only did he take Mason at his word that the quicker things got going, the faster he could come home but he’d also heard our goodbye declarations to each other.

  A deeper realization hit my heart, and I held my hand over it. “Oh, Dash.”