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

by Bella Falls

  “I didn't want to come anyway,” I yelled.

  “Then leave,” she demanded.

  Before I could reply, Dash pulled me by my arm until we stood a few feet away. I kept my eyes on Damien, who comforted Blythe with his arms around her.

  “What is wrong with you? Dash repeated with a bit of a snarl in his tone.

  Fed up with trying to ignore my gut, I bellowed the truth. “I don't like him.”

  The shifter didn’t let me off that easy. “What don't you like?”

  “There's something about him.” No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't shake that nagging feeling inside. “He makes me uneasy.”

  A shadow crossed Dash’s face. “Because he's hogging your friend’s attention? Or because he's not like you guys?”

  I pointed at Damien. “But he's not. Look at him. The guy is wearing a suit on a picnic. Clearly, he's used to being around others, and doesn't quite fit in here.”

  “You mean like I didn’t,” Dash said in a lower voice.

  My eyes snapped away from Blythe and landed on him. “I didn't say that.”

  “But you are implying that,” he challenged. “Just because he doesn't fit in your witch world doesn't mean he should be discounted.”

  “So now you're coming to his defense? I thought wolves and vampires didn't get along.” My bratty statement landed the blow I desired.

  Dash winced. “That's werewolves, and that’s only in fiction.”

  I sucked in a breath, knowing I’d crossed a line. “Dash, I didn't mean it.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  My head spun with everything going on. The bit of lunch I'd eaten threatened to come back up. “I’ve got to go.” Hopping on my bike, I ran away from yet another problem, wondering what was wrong with me?

  Chapter Fourteen

  I must have circled the streets surrounding the warden station more than ten times, unable to decide whether or not to go in or go home. After another circuit around, Zeke stood in front of my path, blocking me from riding past the station. I braked hard to avoid hitting him.

  He held onto my handlebars. “Miss Charli, your brother sent me out here to find out why you keep passing by. He suggested that you either come in or go home. Except…he didn't say it in such a nice way.” He looked away.

  “Let me guess. He said something about using the bathroom or not, right?”

  Zeke avoided my devious glance. “Something like that, miss.”

  I put the young warden out of his misery. “Tell my brother I'll check in on him in a few.” Parking my bike in the lot, I followed Zeke inside.

  Mason stood by the front desk. “And how was your lunch date?” he mocked.

  “Don't ask,” I warned.

  The detective acted interested. “That good?”

  “Or that bad.” He didn't need the specifics, but he could wipe that smug smile off his face anytime now.

  “Come to my office,” he requested.

  Once inside, Mason closed the door behind me. He pointed to a box on his desk. “I’ve brought in some of her things that seemed more personal to her.”

  I stood on my tiptoes to try and catch a glimpse of what things he’d chosen. “Why?”

  “I thought that's how it worked. If you couldn't hold the person's hand, you could use something of value to them to help find whatever it is your searching for.” The detective proved his skills in observation, knowing my exact methods.

  My hands trembled, and I squeezed them into fists. Twice now, I’d tried and failed. If I attempted to help Mason and nothing happened, I didn't think I could face his disappointment in me.

  “I don't know if now is a good time. Maybe we should try later,” I managed. With fast feet, I moved to the door, turning the knob.

  Mason took long strides to catch up and slammed the door shut with his hand, trapping me inside. “Charli, I don't get it. You made it clear that you wanted to help me, but as soon as I ask for your help, you refuse? Then I don't know what it is you want from me.”

  I started to tell him that the reason I needed to leave had more to do with me than him, but he didn't give me a chance to respond.

  He leaned against the door, trapping me with his body. “I don't know what you want me to say. I guess I felt like you see me differently after that thing with Skeeter. I know that my actions weren’t exactly honorable.” He cast his eyes to the floor, swallowing hard.

  Nana was right, not that she didn’t have a gold medal in that. Still, my heart melted a bit at his embarrassment. “Mason, everyone in there was under the influence. Remember how no one was arrested? That's because my grandmother was right when she said that none of you could be held responsible for their actions. All this time you avoided me because you thought I would think less of you?”

  He stepped closer to me, and I could detect a slight whiff of soap and cologne from his skin. “No. I was afraid you would see too much.” Mason stood in front of me stripped bare of any pretense. The truth radiated off of him, raw and rare. Instead of keeping me at arm’s length, he was drawing me in as close as I'd ever been. His trust and vulnerability shattered me, and I couldn't stop the tears from streaming down my cheek.

  The detective's face softened. “I didn't mean to make you cry.”

  I waved my hand in front in protest, unable to speak for fear that a sob would rack my body.

  He didn't hesitate or leave. “Instead, he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me in tight. There was no demand from his touch other than for me to take the comfort that he gave freely. I soaked it all up, snotting into his shoulder until my body stopped shaking and the flood of emotions evened out.

  His whispers of assurances ceased, and he rubbed my back in slower circles. The heat from his body penetrated mine, and I became intensely aware of his touch. With a sniff, I extracted myself from his embrace. Like a true gentleman, he offered me a tissue from a box on his desk. It took a few deep breaths for me to compose myself before I could give a full explanation.

  “My magic isn't working,” I admitted in shame.

  My effort to cut to the chase caught him off guard. “I don't understand.”

  “That night with Raif’s dog, when you brought me to him to help. When I tried to use my magic to find his pug, nothing happened.”

  Mason shook his head. “You mean you were interrupted. I remember that you tried, but your brother brought Mrs. K before anything happened.”

  The detective's point of view was a little skewed. I wished it were true, but I needed him to hear the truth. “No. I took Raif’s hand, and when I focused my magic, nothing appeared for me. Literally, nothing. Normally, I can connect to whatever it is I'm searching for at least a little. But with Raif, it was all one big blank.”

  Mason rubbed his chin, scratching his stubble. “Maybe that's his fault. He wasn't exactly enthusiastic to have you help in the first place.”

  “Yeah, but I think his desire to find his beloved dog would overrule any personal feelings he has for me.” I took a deep breath and steadied myself to continue. “But that's not the only time.”

  I described my experience with Ben and Ms. Alma’s ring. “Again, I've never had it go so wrong. I've worked with a loose connection before, and have managed to make it work. Frosted fairy wings, searching for things like that is child's play for me. I mean, when I was a child, I could do better. I have no idea why I can't wield my magic, and if I can't anymore, then I'll be nothing.” The tears started all over again, and I grabbed more tissues from the box.

  Mason leaned on the edge of his desk, giving me the space to cry. When the sniffles stopped, he spoke in a gentle voice, “You're being ridiculous.”

  “No, I'm not.” I sounded like a petulant child.

  “You are. You've grown up in a world that hammered into you that your talents made you special. Either you were bullied because you were different or you were told how rare you really were. You've gotten used to the attention that your magic brings to you.” He touched my arm. “But
you have no idea what it is that makes you special.”

  He ran his hand down my skin and grasped both of my hands in his. “You, Charlotte Goodwin, have more strength and backbone than one hundred people I've known. You stand up for what you believe in without a care for the consequences. You are loyal to a fault, and you love hard.”

  Unable to bear the weight of his words, I glanced down. He let go of one of my hands and cupped my chin, lifting my head to face him. “The biggest magic you wield is how, even though you can be infuriatingly stubborn at times, you make those around you care about you. More than maybe they should.” His thumb brushed my cheek. “It's a spell that's hard to break,” he said in almost a whisper.

  A knock on the door broke the heated bubble around us, and Zeke entered the office without waiting for a response. I squeaked and jumped away from Mason, allowing him to deal with warden business. When he finished, he shut the door again but kept his distance for me.

  “Have you told anybody about your problem? Seen the doc?” he asked.

  Disappointment seeped into my spirit at the return of the professional warden. “It's not something I want to get around.”

  “Especially to your family, I would bet.”

  I snapped to attention. “You aren't going to tell my brother, are you?”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “I don't know yet. I reserve the right if I think you're at the point where you can't handle things yourself. But Charli, you're talking about only two instances. Any others?”

  “No,” I admitted. “I’ve been too afraid to try.”

  He looked at the box on his desk and back at me. “Listen, I want to help, and I will. But I’m not going to push you. If you want to take a day to decide, then I guess that will be fine. But if you change your mind, and I can’t lie, I hope you do, then call me.” Mason pulled out a spell phone from his jacket and showed it to me.

  “Where did you get that?” I asked.

  “Lee gave it to Big Willie, but the sheriff didn’t want to take the time to mess with it.” He flipped the phone open, and with a press of a button, the one in my pocket buzzed and emitted that annoyingly loud ring I hadn’t taken the time to change yet. “And now you have my number. Use it,” he insisted.

  “I will.” I glanced at him with suspicion. “Why are you letting me off so easy?”

  He put his spell phone back in his pocket. “Because you don’t need me pushing you. And I’m pretty sure you’ll call me.”

  His satisfied grin amused me. “You’re sure of yourself.”

  Opening the door, he ushered me out. “No. I’m certain of your inability to stay away. Talk to you later.” He huffed out a breath when I smacked him in his stomach as I passed.

  I almost made it out of the station when Matt caught me. “Hey, Birdy. Everything good?”

  For some reason, my short time with the detective had been a salve to my emotional wounds. “Don’t call me that. And yeah, I think it will be.”

  “Good.” My brother ruffled my hair. “Then maybe you’ll stop acting nuts, circling the station and making everyone question your sanity. By the way, Nana’s looking for you. She wants you to stop by her house before you go home.”

  “Thanks.” Checking to see if anyone was watching, I punched him in the arm.

  “Ow, what was that for?” He rubbed at the spot.

  “For being my concerned big brother.”

  “You know I could put you in a holding cell for assaulting a warden,” Matt warned.

  I bounced my way to the door. “You could, but you won’t,” I sang out to him, waving.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Nana waited for me on her porch. I would never figure out how that woman always knew things.

  “I have something for you,” she said when I joined her.

  “Is it more food that you've cooked?” I followed her inside, almost tripping over a furry orange and gray mass in the middle of the floor. Peaches liked to go between the two houses, somehow needing to visit her friend Loki almost as much as wanting to live with me. Since she was almost out of kittenhood, I didn't mind that she had her own life.

  Nana called out to me, and I found her in the kitchen. Instead of something yummy, she handed me a glass with dirty gray sludge in it. “Drink it down,” she ordered.

  I'd had my fill of her concoction when she was trying to save me from Uncle Tipper’s death curse. Enough for three lifetimes. “Why do I have to drink that?” I asked.

  Nana didn’t give me a reason. “I don't have time to argue, Charli. I've got to get ready to go in and help set up for the night's debate at the town hall. So why don't we jump from you whining about it to you drinking it.”

  “But there's nothing wrong with me,” I protested.

  My grandmother placed her hands on her hips. “You’ve got exactly ten seconds, young lady.”

  The adult in me wanted to slam the glass down and refuse, but the child in me remembered what happened when she ran out of numbers. Pinching my nose, I lifted the glass to my lips and swallowed as fast as possible. It still tasted like mud and dirt or exactly what I imagined unicorn manure would. In other words, the exact opposite of sweet tea. I got halfway finished and stopped to take a gulp of air.

  “Finish it all up.” Nana tapped the watch on her wrist.

  With a moan, I obeyed, finishing the entire contents in record time. I wiped my lips with the back of my hand and shuddered. “How did you know?” I asked.

  “You know better than to ask me that. Have you seen my lucky necklace anywhere?” she asked, pushing past me and rushing up the stairs.

  I followed behind, puzzled. “No, but I haven't been here that much.”

  I spotted Moss coming out of my old bedroom and greeted her. My presence surprised the small fairy, and her wings quivered, gray-green dust falling on the floor.

  With a sour face, she floated down and cleaned up her mess. “I left a pile of papers for you to go through on the coffee table in your parlor, Miss Charli,” she said while cleaning.

  “Thank you, Moss.” I listened to my grandmother rattling around in her room. She emerged looking harrowed and anxious.

  “Well, I can't find it anywhere. She stomped down the stairs, and I followed in her wake.

  “Nana, slow down.”

  My grandmother stopped in her tracks. Turning around, she gripped both my hands. “The debate tonight has to go well. Everything about the election is hanging by a thread. If anything else goes wrong, who knows how the town will react? Big Willie tells me they’re no closer to solving Mrs. K's death.”

  I hugged my grandmother tight. “That's a lot of weight on your shoulders. There are a lot more people in this town that you can rely on. You don't have to take on the problems all by yourself.”

  For once, I provided the stable foundation for my grandmother to lean on. Wrapping my arms around her, I forced her to take a timeout. She slumped into my embrace and gave in.

  “You have grown wise in your old age,” she joked, patting my back and letting me go.

  “I had a good role model,” I said, smoothing out a strand of her hair. “I don't think a hug will be seen as the solution to world peace, but it's about all I can offer you.”

  “I don't know,” chortled my grandmother. “We have to get all the world leaders, both human and magical, in the same room and try it before we could test that statement.” She cupped my cheek and gazed at me with love. “I’m sorry I haven't been that available to you. You know you can tell me anything, right?”

  I nodded. “There's nothing to tell,” I assured her, wanting to keep my troubles away from her.

  She kissed my forehead. “Good. So then it doesn't matter whether or not you drank my stuff or whether you’re telling me the truth. It won’t hurt you, and if you need it, it’ll help.”

  I rubbed my stomach and wrinkled my nose. “My taste buds disagree. I'll see you at the debates tonight. Do you want me to luck at the house when I leave?”

  “No,” Na
na said through the screen door. “Juniper’s here with her crew. She’ll finish up and fix everything. Oh, and there’s a pineapple upside down cake in the refrigerator if you want to take it home with you.”

  “Still cooking away your troubles?” I called out to her.

  My grandmother waved at me as she left. “It's medicine for the soul.”

  “Better than gray sludge,” I teased. Picking up my sassy little orange cat, who stretched in front of me and wrapped herself around my ankles, I listened to her incessant meows. “What’s that? You want to go home with me?”

  She purred in my hands, and I placed her little body next to my ear, listening to the rolling sound. “Okay, we’ll go home in a second. I want to go check something in my room,” I told Peaches, setting her down.

  Bounding up the stairs and skipping the noisy ones, I made my way to my old room. Standing in the doorway, I caught a glimpse of something shiny dangling from Juniper’s hand. “Good luck tonight at the debate,” I said, startling the fairy.

  Whatever she held clattered to the floor. She zipped down and picked it up. “I-I f-f-found this,” she defended, holding it out to me.

  I opened up my hand and received what I identified as Nana's lucky necklace. “Thanks.”

  Juniper’s eyes widened, and her wings trembled. “You're w-w-welcome,” she stammered.

  A heavy weight anchored my heart. Why had she been holding my grandmother's necklace? More importantly, why did she look like a cornered animal? “Is everything okay?” I asked.

  “Y-y-yes,” she stuttered. “It's just nerves.” She coughed. “And now that Horatio is no longer running, I will be representing both of our issues. It's a lot to take on.” She dipped in the air as if her worries physically weighed her down.

  “If it's too much, I'm sure Horatio would support you if you wanted to drop out,” I said.

  “Oh no,” she gasped in her tiny voice. “I could never do that to him. I would do anything to keep him from being disappointed.” Juniper frowned in determination when she said that last sentence.