by Amy Boyles
She picked her teeth with a fingernail. “I do have a cure, but I don’t think you’ll be getting it.”
“Why?” I pushed the fog from my brain as hard as I could. “Why’re you doing this?”
“Me? Oh, haven’t you guessed?”
“Because you want the Tipples to be more than they are?”
“Hmm hmm.” She raised her hands like a hallelujah choir. “For too long the Tipples have been a second family, never regarded for the powerful witches we are. It was easy, really. I made sure you never shut that book, so once you left my office, I swept in and wrote my own history.”
“Beverly discovered your little plan, didn’t she? Have you rewritten more books than the one by Ernestine Craple?”
Deidre tossed her head back in laughter. “Of course she discovered it. Beverly was going to out my achievements before I even presented them. So I did what any good witch would’ve done.” Her expression soured. “I poisoned her divination powder that day, yes. When no one was looking. I did it and thought the whole thing was over.”
I shook my head sadly. “You would let your friend go to jail for a murder he didn’t commit?”
She shrugged as if it was no big deal. “We can’t all be winners, now can we?”
She clasped her hands. “And if you hadn’t sent your little kitty to find the book, I would’ve let you live, Pepper. But you sent the cat and now both of you have to go.” She tsked. “Shame, too. I did so like you. Plus, you helped me. If it hadn’t been for you, I never would’ve been able to read the Craple book.”
Deidre took a menacing step forward. “Now you and kitty will disappear and no one will ever find you.”
Think, Pepper.
I had it.
“Beverly divined that she would die. Did you know that?”
Deidre stopped. “What did you say?”
“I said she knew you wanted to kill her.”
Deidre laughed nervously. “You can’t prove that.”
I hitched a brow in superiority. “Oh, can’t I? I’ve seen the divination. I know where it is. And do you know how I recognized it?”
I paused, waiting for her to chomp my bait.
She sniffed. “How did you know it?”
“Because of that little loop you make on your M’s. It’s on the divination paper, and I saw the same loop on a slip at Burt’s house.” I licked my lips and glared at her. “So all anyone has to do is match the handwriting and you’ll be found guilty of murder, Deidre.”
She folded her hands. “That’s preposterous. If it’s true, why didn’t Beverly turn in the paper?”
I laughed. “Are you kidding? You’re talking about the most overconfident witch around. Beverly thought she was invincible. But she wasn’t.”
“Tell me,” she snapped. “Where is it? Where’s the paper?”
“You have to release me and I’ll show you.”
“How about I just kill you and bury your body?”
Okay, Pepper. Must come up with a reason not to kill me. “If you do that, Axel will go to the police with it.”
He was going to the police today, but Deidre didn’t know that.
“Can you get the paper?”
“If you let me go, I will. I can command it here with my mind.”
Her eyes narrowed. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”
I smiled brightly. “I’m a head witch, don’t you know? I can do a lot of magic.”
Deidre chewed her bottom lip and studied me. She wafted on the brink. She needed a reason to tip over to my side.
“What have you got to lose?”
Then I saw it. The split decision to release me from the spell she’d put me under.
Immediately the heaviness dissolved. I was free.
I launched myself at Deidre. She fell to the ground, knocking her head against the floor. She groaned and rolled to the side.
I pulled myself off her and reached in my pocket. Deidre’s gaze snapped to me. She flung out her hand, and a spear of magic shot into my shoulder.
Pain like fire radiated throughout my body. My breath caught. My stomach clenched. I couldn’t think as my shoulder throbbed in agony.
My back slammed against the wall, and I realized I was pinned. I hiccupped from the pain and watched as Deidre peeled herself from the floor.
Her mouth twisted into a snarl. “You thought you’d be able to win this? You stupid girl. You can’t win. Now I’ll finish you and bury your body so far under the ground no one will ever find it.”
I blinked away tears and dug deep, needing to recover the last bit of strength I had.
My free hand touched my pocket. Something bulged inside. Oh my gosh. I’d forgotten all about that. I slid my fingers into my pocket and pulled out a bag.
“What’s that?” Deidre said. She raced forward, her arm high to whack the pouch from my palm.
I needed to be way faster than her.
I worked it opened, dipped my fingers inside and tossed a wad of tobacco in my mouth. Ugh. It tasted horrible. Like sawdust and brine. I swallowed. Magic swirled around me. It licked my skin, leaving traces of energy everywhere it touched. Fingers of power reached for Deidre. They wound around her and pulled the witch to me.
“What is this?” She struggled against the ghostly tendrils. “Get me out of this!”
“Deidre Tipple, you want to release me and my cat from your hold. Then I want you to call the police and turn yourself in.”
Deidre blinked rapidly. Slowly she raised her hand. I cringed, hoping the secret spell worked.
The magical spear disappeared from my shoulder. I fell to my knees. Mattie scampered over as Deidre picked up a phone.
“Sheriff Young? This is Deidre Tipple. There’s something I must confess.”
TWENTY-FOUR
So that’s pretty much how it went down. Deidre called Garrick Young, who appeared in like three seconds to arrest her and set me free.
Thank goodness because I almost became Deidre’s next victim. As I’d theorized, Beverly had been on to Deidre’s attempts to make the Tipple name more than it was. Apparently Beverly had proof—the book I’d discovered in the divination room—that would once and for all put Deidre’s aspirations that the Tipples were Southern witch aristocracy to bed.
Deidre couldn’t let that happen, now could she? So she killed Beverly in an attempt to silence her.
Murder for the sake of a little fame but definitely not fortune. I suppose it wouldn’t be the first time in history that’s happened.
I stood outside Deidre’s house. A throng of police officers swarmed around, jostling me in their attempts to get inside.
“Watch where you’re going there, sucker,” Mattie said from the relative safety of my arms.
“Sorry,” the officer replied.
Axel broke through the crowd and swept me into his arms. “Are you okay?” His warm fingers stroked my cheek while his worried eyes searched me for damage.
The panic he felt for me made my heart split in two. I swept his hand from my cheek and squeezed it against my chest.
“I’m fine.”
“Hey, y’all are squeezin’ me.” Mattie struggled against my arms.
“Sorry.” I released the cat, and she sprinted forward.
“I’ll see y’all back at the house.”
Mattie scampered off, and I rested my head on Axel’s bicep. An overwhelming sense of calm floated over me. I was home. Axel was my home.
“Betty’s secret spell saved me.”
His eyebrow arched in question.
A soft laugh escaped my lips. “It’s a spell that can only be cast once a year and makes a person change their mind about something.”
“Fascinating. I’ll have to learn it.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m sure you know spells a thousand times better than that one.”
His lip curled into a wicked smile. “Maybe you can teach me.”
I tipped my head forward. “I thought we had all the time in the world.
”
He howled with laughter as I threw his words back at him. “We do. We most certainly do.” He kissed me tenderly and hugged me to him. “Thank goodness you’re safe.”
“Yep. You were right. Deidre was hiding the book all along. She’d written all over it in order to prove the Tipples were an old, important family.”
“Ah. Some people get caught up in that sort of thing.” He swung an arm around my shoulder and tugged me close enough to brush his lips against my forehead.
I sighed.
He brushed a strand of hair from my face. “What is it?”
“It’s silly.”
“Nothing you say is ever silly.”
I shot him a dark look. “You’re being too kind.”
He kissed the back of my hand. “Never. I’m being honest.” He nudged me. “What is it?”
I curled my arm around his bicep. “I was just thinking that I was home. That you are my home.”
He tugged me close and whispered in my ear. “Finally you’re catching up.”
I elbowed his ribs. “What’re you saying?”
The corners of his blue eyes crinkled as his face melted into a look of pure tenderness. “My love, I’ve known for a long time that I was home with you. I just had to admit it to myself.”
My gaze darted to the ground. “I guess it took me a little while to catch up.”
Axel tipped my face until I couldn’t help but look at him. “Hey. Better late than never.”
“You’re right.”
We walked away, arm in arm, and like I said, I knew I was home.
The night of the big reveal arrived. The entire town gathered in the park, waiting patiently for the two mayoral candidates to speak.
Betty stood in one corner and Gilda in the other. They looked like geriatric WWF wrestlers readying to rumble. Mayor Battle introduced them, and Gilda wasted no time.
“Betty Craple, honey, I know you promised that tonight you would give Magnolia Cove the truth about the scroll that’s been in your family for generations—knowledge that’s supposed to teach witches how to remain unnoticed by humans.”
Triumph filled Betty’s eyes. “Yes, I did promise.”
“Are you ready to prove it?”
Betty waddled to the front of the platform. She pulled Ernestine’s book from behind her back and held it high. “Within these pages is the secret all of y’all have been waiting for. The problem is, only someone with Craple blood can see it.”
“Phooey,” someone catcalled.
I gripped Axel’s hand. He pulled me close. I prayed to the heavens this worked.
Betty thumbed the book to the correct page and turned to Gilda Goldenheart. Luckily Betty had been able to work a spell that dissolved all of Deidre’s black pen marks, leaving the manuscript as it had been originally, blank to anyone lacking Craple DNA.
“It is a little-known fact that three generations ago, two Craple sisters split into two different families. One family became mine.” Betty stood solidly in front of the crowd. “The other sister lost the Craple name when she married into the Goldenhearts. It was quite the scandal at the time, for a Craple witch to give up her last name.”
Gilda gasped. “Honey, what are you saying?”
“I’m saying,” Betty said, “that way back yonder in our bloodlines, you are a Craple and should be able to read this page. Say it loud so everyone can hear.”
Gilda fumbled with her glasses, which dangled from a chain around her neck. Her hands trembled as she opened them and slid the frame up her nose.
And then she read. The crowd stood silently as Gilda Goldenheart relayed the passage that Ernestine Craple had written, putting to rest once and for all any controversy about a secret scroll.
The crowd audibly exhaled as they learned there wasn’t a scroll, the Craples weren’t keeping secrets and we were all friends once again in Magnolia Cove.
Well, at least that’s what I hoped.
“That turned out well.” Amelia sauntered up and grinned like a cat.
“Best thing ever,” Cordelia chimed, stalking up behind Amelia.
“I agree. Whew.” I waved my hand across my forehead. “Glad that’s over. Now no one will try to break into our house.”
Cordelia exhaled a sigh of relief. “Who knew Gilda was related to us?”
“I knew,” Betty barked, waddling up. “I knew it, and that’s how we got out of this mess.”
Amelia shot her a wide grin. “So how’s it going, Madam Mayor?”
Betty rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to be mayor.”
“Why not?” I frowned. “You’d be great.”
She thumbed toward Barnaby Battle. “Looks like Barnaby’s decided to withdraw his resignation. He’s staying on.”
“Bummer,” Amelia said. “I really wanted you to be mayor so I could call in favors.”
“What favors?” Betty said.
Amelia shrugged. “I don’t know. Favors.”
We laughed. Axel’s phone rang, and he excused himself to take it.
“I’m glad that whole mess with the Beverly murder is over.” Cordelia jutted her chin toward the audience. “Looks like Burt is happy, too.”
Burt and I locked gazes, and he smiled. I gave him a little wave, and he winked.
“I’m glad,” I admitted. “But to be safe, I’m going to stay away from the school for a while.”
Amelia nudged my elbow. “That sounds good. Too many bad things happen there.”
“I agree.”
Our conversation waned, and my cousins yawned, obviously ready to head home.
“You coming?” Betty said. “I’ll make a pie with magic. That way no one has to wait to eat their grief.”
I laughed and threw an arm over her shoulder. “Your grief? You must’ve been pretty set on being mayor.”
Betty hitched a shoulder. “I thought I’d be good for this town.”
I kissed her temple. The smell of baby powder wafted up my nose. “You’re great for this town. You don’t need to be mayor to prove that.”
She squeezed me tight and then drifted off while I waited for Axel to finish up his phone call.
After a few more seconds he thumbed the screen, disconnecting. His blue eyes darkened as he watched the crowd.
“What is it?”
He dragged his gaze from the crowd. When it landed on me, a jolt of desire snaked down my spine. Axel looked absolutely fierce and ready to tackle an army. Why?
“What was the call?” I pressed him.
“That was about a haunted house.”
I narrowed my gaze. “A haunted house?”
He nodded. “Yep. One in a town called Haunted Hollow, Alabama. That was a woman named Blissful. Said she needs a private investigator.”
I quirked a brow. “Does she know you’re a wizard?”
Axel slid his phone into his pocket. “Not sure. Want to come with me and find out?”
I glanced around Magnolia Cove and decided that for a few days, I could leave. I could pretend to be human again and do my best not to attract attention.
Axel zipped up his leather coat. “What do you say?” His lips coiled into a seductive smile.
I slid my hand into his. “Watch out, Haunted Hollow. Here we come.”
* * *
<<<<>>>>
Thank Y’all!
Pepper and Axel’s adventures continue in THE GHOST WHO ATE GRITS, a Southern Ghost Wrangler Mystery. Enter Haunted Hollow, Alabama, where spirits walk. Join one woman and two grannies as they work to keep the spirits among the dead.
You can order it HERE.
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If you haven’t started the series, be sure to pick up SOUL FOOD SPIRITS, Blissful’s first book. You can order it HERE.
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I love to hear from you! Please feel free to drop me a line anytime. You can email me [email protected].
Also by Amy Boyles
SWEET TEA WITCH MYSTERIES
SOUTHERN MA
GIC
SOUTHERN SPELLS
SOUTHERN MYTHS
SOUTHERN SORCERY
SOUTHERN CURSES
SOUTHERN KARMA
SOUTHERN MAGIC THANKSGIVING
SOUTHERN MAGIC CHRISTMAS
SOUTHERN POTIONS
SOUTHERN FORTUNES
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SOUTHERN GHOST WRANGLER MYSTERIES
SOUL FOOD SPIRITS
HONEYSUCKLE HAUNTING
THE GHOST WHO ATE GRITS
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BLESS YOUR WITCH SERIES
SCARED WITCHLESS
KISS MY WITCH
QUEEN WITCH
QUIT YOUR WITCHIN'
FOR WITCH'S SAKE
DON'T GIVE A WITCH
WITCH MY GRITS
FRIED GREEN WITCH
SOUTHERN WITCHING
Y’ALL WITCHES
HOLD YOUR WITCHES
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SOUTHERN SINGLE MOM PARANORMAL MYSTERIES
The Witch’s Handbook to Hunting Vampires
The Witch’s Handbook to Catching Werewolves
The Witch’s Handbook to Trapping Demons
About the Author
Amy Boyles grew up reading Judy Blume and Christopher Pike. Somehow, the combination of coming of age books and teenage murder mysteries made her want to be a writer. After graduating college at DePauw University, she spent some time living in Chicago, Louisville, and New York before settling back in the South. Now, she spends her time chasing two preschoolers while trying to stir up trouble in Silver Springs, Alabama, the fictional town where Dylan Apel and her sisters are trying to master witchcraft, tame their crazy relatives, and juggle their love lives. She loves to hear from readers! You can email her at [email protected].
