Fried Chicken & Fangs (A Southern Charms Cozy Mystery Book 2)

by Bella Falls

  I swiveled around to stare at the shifter. “What are you doing?”

  “Making plans with your friend. Being social and taking an interest in the people of my town.” He ate another fry, holding it in his teeth to show off his smug smile.

  Relief swept through me when Damien stood up to leave.

  “It was nice getting to know a little more about you, Charli.” He took my hand in his and kissed it again.

  “Good. Then it's settled. I look forward to our double date.” Damien pointed at the door. “Blythe, my dear, would you mind speaking with me outside?”

  My friend weaved her way around the counter, ignoring all of the other hungry customers. I watched her through the glass door as she giggled and touched him. He kissed the back of her hand as well, but instead of yanking it away like I had, she pressed the skin to her lips. She floated back inside in a daze.

  When she returned to the counter, I snapped my fingers in front of her face. “Who are you and what have you done with my friend?”

  She tittered and clapped her hands. “I know, right? He’s s-o-o-o cute. Whenever he's around, I can't seem to concentrate on anything else,” she gushed.

  “Frosted fairy wings, B, what happened to the girl who said she would never be turned into a fool?” Hungry and annoyed, my last nerve threatened to walk out the door.

  Blythe cupped my chin and looked at me with pity. “Maybe it took finding the right person to change my mind. If you had the courage to make a choice, you, too, might find happiness.” She let me go and went to pick up some lucky customer’s order.

  Out of spite, I pulled the plate of fries in front of me and ate the rest of them without letting the shifter have another one. Blythe returned with a full plate of food for me, but I still wasn’t sure I could forgive her.

  “When can we schedule our double date?” she asked.

  “It's not a date,” I complained.

  “I’m counting it as one.” Dash swiped a fresh fry from my plate.

  I pointed a finger in his face. “You're already in enough trouble as it is, mister.”

  He ignored me and spoke to my friend. “I can take care of the main dish if one of you can do sides and the other brings dessert.”

  “I’ll get Steve to let me bring the sides from here,” volunteered Blythe.

  “That leaves the dessert to you, Charli. I'll see you later.” He waved at both of us. “Can’t wait for our date,” he called out as he left.

  “It's not a date,” I yelled, causing the rest of the patrons in the cafe to stop talking and eating to stare at me.

  “Yes, it is,” Dash said through the glass door with a wave and a wink.

  I groaned loud and long. “You people are infuriating.”

  Blythe patted my head. “But you love us just the same.” She walked away, humming out of key.

  I didn’t know who the us included, but at the moment, it did not include a certain stubborn furry-behinded shifter.

  Chapter Eleven

  Lee talked my ears off for the next half hour at the cafe, barely giving me any chance to finish my long-awaited lunch. He asked me every question under the sun about my experience with cell phones while I was away from Honeysuckle.

  “Now, explain to me how they used to message each other,” he said, holding up his phone.

  “See the letters underneath the numbers?” I pointed. “If you hit those buttons enough times, the letters will show up on the screen, and you can spell out words. Using that method, you could create a message to send without calling.”

  “Fascinating, but what a waste of time. I think I can do something with that. What else?” he pushed.

  Not having had a phone myself, my knowledge was limited. But I remembered one handy function when the tracker I was working with found a young boy hurt but still alive. “There is an emergency function on the phones that would put the person in touch with services that could come help.” I did a bad job of explaining the emergency function.

  “An emergency button. Cool,” he exclaimed. “I’ll have to play with that. I wonder if I could hook the system up to the warden station. Or maybe find a way to turn the phone into a beacon of some sort.”

  “Like a homing signal?” I asked.

  He nodded. “Something that would make it easy to locate whoever was in distress. Maybe that could save lives.”

  “It's a worthy project at least,” I agreed. I didn't complain when Lee took off like a rocket to start tinkering and working through the many plans already formulated in his brain.

  After finishing lunch and giving Blythe more grief about the upcoming picnic thing, I walked back out into the afternoon sun, full and satisfied.

  Ben stopped me on my way to my bike. “Charli, I'm glad I caught you. Would you mind stopping by the office for a moment?”

  I followed my friend to the advocates’ office, greeting Jed Farnsworth at his desk. Ben brought me to a lady sitting in a chair in front of the second desk.

  “Hey, Ms. Alma. How are you doing?” I gave her a warm hug.

  “I could be better, if I'm being honest.” She patted my arm. “Did young Bennett fill you in on my dilemma?”

  Ben took a seat behind his desk. “I did not, Ms. Lewis.”

  “I’m afraid that I am missing some items of great worth from my possession. There's one item in particular that leaves me in great distress. I was wondering if I could hire your services to help me find it.” She opened the purse on her lap and dug through it, pulling out her wallet.

  “You don't have to pay me, Ms. Alma. I'd be happy to help,” I replied in confusion.

  “Oh, but I overheard you talking with that good looking gentleman at the cafe that you could make money. I don’t want to think that I don't value your talents. I can at least pay you a fee if you can locate the item,” she offered.

  I didn't want to argue in Ben and Jed's place of business. “When would you like me to try?”

  Ben stood up. “I thought that maybe I would accompany you back to Ms. Lewis's house. As the missing items are a part of her will, I would like to be present, if you don't mind.”

  “Of course not,” I assured my friend. Jed wished us luck, and the three of us headed out together.

  When we got to her house, Ms. Alma relaxed a bit. “I didn't want to give any details while out and about. The one piece I am mainly concerned with is an emerald ring that my dear late husband gave me on the night of our honeymoon. It's a family heirloom on his side, and there has been more than a little drama about me having it. I intended to bequeath it to one of his sisters’ children, but when I looked for it, I couldn't find it.”

  An easy task, I looked forward to giving her some peace of mind. I walked her through the steps to focus her. Taking her hand in mine, I closed my eyes. An image of the sparkling green stone formed in my head. “I see it resting at the bottom of a jewelry box,” I said.

  “That's where I always keep it,” admitted Ms. Alma.

  I waited for the image to change places, but it disappeared entirely like smoke on the wind. I blinked my eyes open. “Strange.”

  “What is?” Ben asked.

  Unnerved, I attempted to shake it off. “Nothing. I'd like to try something else. Let's start from where you keep the jewelry box.”

  Ms. Alma escorted us up the stairs to a closet in her room. She took down a box, opened it, and took out another smaller box from inside like a Russian nesting doll. When we got to the jewelry box, she took it out and gave it to me.

  I opened it and took stock of her other pieces. Simpler gems and metals had their place in the red velvet interior. A string of luminescent pearls rested in the back. She lifted up the first tray and pointed at an empty slot. “This is where I kept it all these years.”

  “And when was the last time you saw it?” I asked.

  “Why, last week at least. I wore it with my best dress to the dance at the retirement center. Maybe someone who saw it on me wanted it,” she suggested.

  “You
think it's been stolen, not lost?” clarified Ben.

  She brushed her fingers over her other jewelry. “I can't think of another explanation. I took it off that night and placed it right back in here.” She pointed at the box.

  I squeezed her hand in reassurance. “Let's try another method. Ben, will you act as my guide and make sure I don't run into anything?”

  With my friend’s assurance, I picked up the jewelry box and gripped it tight. Closing my eyes, I summoned my magic into my core. “Clear the fog so I can see, help me find this jewelry. The precious green so sparkling bright, from hidden dark bring to the light.”

  Calling on my old tried and true ways, I waited for a glowing thread to appear. One shimmered to life and flickered with weak energy. In haste, I bound it to me and let it pull me forward.

  “Where is she going?” asked Ms. Alma.

  Ben shushed her, not wanting to interrupt me. I felt his hand guide me a couple of times, hopefully keeping me from bruising my head or other body parts. I took careful blind steps downstairs, still clinging to the last of the thread. It cut off and died with a suddenness that startled me. Opening my eyes, I found myself in the middle of the pantry room.

  Ms. Alma stared at me with a puzzled look from the doorway. “Do you think it's in there?”

  “No.” I wiped the sweat from my brow. “It's not here.” The chill of fear settled over me.

  “You mean, it’s not this room.” Ben stepped inside to inspect the pantry contents.

  I shook my head. “What rooms did I go into?”

  “That's the thing,” he exclaimed. “You went into every single room. I thought your talents were more specific.”

  I turned my head to glance at him. “They usually are.” I clutched my stomach from the void of energy as much as the pit of despair that widened inside it.

  “What should I do now?” asked Ms. Alma.

  Ben placed a sympathetic hand on my shoulder and squeezed. Turning to his client, he advised her, “I think we should go down to the warden station and file a report.”

  I couldn't turn and face them yet. Tears stung the corner of my eyes. “I’m sorry I couldn't help you,” I croaked out.

  If this had been my job, I would be a pauper. Twice now, I’d tried to work my magic and failed. Something was wrong with me, and if I couldn't fix it, then I would lose the biggest part of what gave me my identity. For all my complaints over the years, I regretted not having what I once wished away.

  “Come on, Charli.” Ben tugged on me. “I’ll take you back to your bicycle. Call me later to let me know you're okay.”

  I grabbed his hand before he left. “Don't tell anybody about this,” I pleaded.

  “I won’t.” The concern in his eyes told me that he wouldn't wait long before he made that statement untrue. I had limited time to work out my issues.

  I found Matt rocking on my porch when I got home. The sight of my brother gave me relief. Growing up, he had been the one to help me develop my magic as much as possible. Perhaps he'd have an idea of how I could fix it now. And since I knew him better than most people, I had good blackmail material to keep him quiet about it.

  “Why so glum, chum?” I asked him.

  “TJ won't let me help. She says I spook the horses, but I think that's just an excuse to keep me away,” my brother complained.

  The fact that he wouldn’t look at me clued me in. “What did you say or do?”

  “Nothing that wasn't true.”

  “Like what?” I pressed.

  He threw his hands in the air. “I told her that she shouldn't be riding the horses.”

  “That isn't new, and the doc lay down that rule not too long ago. Why would your repeating it upset her?”

  My brother grimaced. “I might have said it in a different way.”

  Tired of his avoidance, I smacked the back of his head. “Just spit it out.”

  He sighed. “I told her she was getting too big to ride.”

  I sucked my breath through my teeth. “Whoa, that's bad. I'm surprised you can sit down.”

  “I’m lucky that she doesn't use the same hex you used to on me with too much of a free hand.” He slapped my arm in retaliation. “She prefers the silent treatment, and I have to admit, her not talking to me hurts even more.”

  “You think you'll ever learn to keep your mouth shut?” I asked.

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “I hope so, or I'm going to be a dead man with two women in the house.”

  My loud squeal echoed through the air. “You're having a baby girl?” I jumped up and down.

  My brother’s cheeks reddened. “I am. It's my luck in life to be surrounded by girls.”

  I smothered him with kisses and hugs until he couldn't take it anymore. He fought back and captured my head in his arm, rubbing a noogie into my scalp. “Cut it out,” I cried.

  “Never.” He rubbed with more ferocity until I pushed away from him.

  I let a sparkle of energy form at my fingertips.

  He held up his hands. “Hey, don't hurt the father of your future niece.”

  Reminded that I was going to be an aunty to a little girl, I giggled in glee, forgetting for a second about my own worries. I sat down in the chair next to him, rocking away and marveling at the twists and turns life had brought the two of us.

  “How am I going to do it?” asked Matt after a few quiet moments.

  “Do what?”

  “Raise a daughter. I'm a boy, I know about boy things. What if I fail her?” The fear in his voice cut through me.

  “You won’t. I promise.” I patted his hand.

  “How do you know?” he asked in a quiet tone.

  “Because you were a fantastic brother to me. You took my differences in stride, and instead of making me feel like a freak and an outsider, you made me stronger. And that's all you have to do.” I squeezed his hand three times, my lit trembling as I reassured my brother. Blood didn't bond us, but love sure did.

  “Thanks,” Matt choked out. He cleared his throat. “I needed that.”

  My concerns could wait. Tonight, I needed to help my brother locate his courage instead of fixing my magic. “No problem. Although I'll deny saying anything nice to you to anyone else. Especially to little Charlotte, Junior.”

  “In your dreams, Birdy.” My brother’s mischievous smile returned to his face.

  “Don't call me that,” I insisted out of habit. “Now, go apologize to your pregnant wife.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Nana always said that ignoring a problem means it never gets solved. I decided to prove her wrong by joining Moss and the other pixies in cleaning up one of the upstairs rooms instead of dealing with my fears about my magic. A little bit of the fairy’s gray-green dust settled over me whenever she checked on my progress.

  “I can do that for you, Miss Charli,” she insisted.

  I picked up a new pile of stuff to go through. “No, no. It's all right.”

  More dust spread over the papers in front of me. “If you're unhappy with our work—”

  I interrupted her. “It's not that. I like cleaning,” I lied. What I liked was not dwelling on my failures and having something else to focus on.

  Both of us perked up at the sound of someone knocking on my door. When I left the room, high-pitched squeals erupted. I bet that the pixies were lodging their complaint with Moss about my presence. My roommate had been smart enough to stay out of their way when he was around.

  Leaving them behind, I bounced downstairs and opened the door. “Mason,” I exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

  A storm of emotions brewed inside of me. I'd wanted nothing more than to have him want me to work with him. At the same time, with my talents on the fritz, what help could I give?

  “Can I help you with something?”

  He looked past me. “Charli, I'm actually here to see—”

  “Where are my manners,” I interrupted. “Please come in. May I get you a glass of iced tea?” I rambled nonsense
, realizing how hungry I was to hear more about the case or to have an excuse to spend any time with him.

  “No, thank you. I’m fine.” He followed me inside, taking the time to examine my house. “It looks like things are coming together. It looks…nice. More like you.”

  “If you mean slightly dirty, a little disheveled, and barely passing, then I might agree with you. At least it's starting to feel like my home. Although I'm not sure that my idea of home ever included a vampire roommate.” I held back the cringe at my poor attempt at a joke.

  “That's why I'm here,” Mason said.

  “Because you want a vampire for a roommate?”

  “No. I need to question him. If you could just direct me to where he is.”

  “Beau,” I screamed at the top of my lungs.

  “What?” A muffled yell replied.

  “Poof your bat behind down here. We've got company,” I shouted.

  Mason winced at our loud volume. “Sounds like every home I've ever known,” he commented.

  The wooden stairs creaked under Beau’s feet as he marched down to meet us. “Detective, are you here to take Miss Charli out? I heard her muttering something about date earlier.”

  My hand flew up to cover the vampire’s mouth. “I never said anything like that.” I lowered my voice and narrowed my eyes at Beau. “You, shush.”

  Mason shifted in uncomfortable silence, waiting. “If you don't mind, I have some questions for you.”

  “For me?” asked my roommate and me at the same time.

  Mason shook his head. “For you,” he clarified, pointing at Beau. “Is there somewhere we can go that's more private?”

  Beau scratched his almost-bald head. “Anything that needs to be said can be said in front of her. I don't require privacy in my own home.”

  “Then, shall we?” Mason gestured to my parlor. His formality stung, but he was on the job. Unable to help myself, I zipped to the kitchen and fixed three glasses of iced tea. Handing them around, I sat down next to Beau on the stiff couch.

  Mason took out his pad and pencil. “It's my understanding that you visit the retirement home quite often. Is that true?”